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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

#yelena #snk yelena #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #yelena brainrot #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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rachelsteapot · 3 years

Text

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Part 3

This is it! This is the last part of Rescued! I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Diclaimer, I had a moment while writing this and managed to switch tense without noticing so if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I’ll change them as soon as I can.

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: None

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That night, Tommy reluctantly dropped Y/N back at her Battersea apartment, having practically begged her to return to his city centre townhouse. The more time Tommy spent with this woman, the more and more he wanted her in his every day. This attraction wasn’t sexual like his previous women. It was more akin to what he had felt for Grace...

No.

Tommy was not going to let her face back into his mind. Grace was gone, a ghost that tormented him in his darkest moments. Y/N was alive, living, breathing. She had hopes and dreams that could still be fulfilled. Hopes and dreams that Tommy wanted a part in. And Tommy always got what he wanted.

Y/N’s mind was also churning. In less than twenty four hours, she had become a person of interest to one of the largest criminal gangs in the midlands, if not the whole country, simply because she had caught the leader’s eye. And what striking eyes they were too. Slipping into her nightclothes, Y/N placed her kettle onto the fire that she had started moments earlier, before settling into her armchair. Slowly, Y/N drifted in and out of thought, her pensive eyes glazed over as she stared into the flames. She was faced with one of the biggest decisions of her life: Tommy Shelby or Battersea cats and dogs home.

The next day, Y/N arrived at the shelter, and was met by an odd sight. A large poster was placed on the door and read, from what Y/N could decipher, ‘Under New Management’. So, doing what every good employee would, she opened the door and stepped into the foyer. It was quiet. Too quiet for an animal shelter. Quietly, Y/N approached the door of Mr. Smith’s office, and knocked.

“Come,” came a reply.

Y/N opened the door, once again releasing a haze of smoke, and stepped inside.

“Mr. Smith,” she began, but stopped. Sat in Mr. Smith’s chair, behind Mr. Smith’s desk, was Tommy Shelby. Y/N’s words caught in her throat, and she stood, stunned, until Bruce pressed his head into her knees.

“Mr. Shelby, what are you doing here?” she queried, bending down to stroke the dog.

“Y/N, I own it.” Swinging his legs off of the desk, Tommy stood and took the gently smoking cigarette from his lips. “I thought it would make your decision easier if I bought the place.”

A look of sheer confusion engulfed Y/N’s face. She knew Tommy was rich from his nice suit and ability to pay for almost everything, but she didn’t think he was ‘buy-a-dog-shelter-because-you-want-one-of-the-workers-to-go-home-with-you’ rich.

“I’ll stay for a few days.” In that moment, Y/N saw a flicker of a smile cross Tommy’s face, and she knew he had won.

The drive back to Small Heath was dull. But, at least, Y/N had Bruce for company. Tommy had been silent since they had left London, and Y/N assumed it was because he was concentrating on the road. In reality, however, it was something entirely different that was consuming Tommy’s attention.

Tommy’s mild swirled with thoughts: some about business, some not. Every now and then, the car rocked, causing the crime boss to catch scent of his passenger’s perfume, making his head spin even more. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see her stroking Bruce and god did she look cute.

Slowly, Tommy’s hand moved from the gear stick onto Y/N’s thigh. He heard her breath hitch slightly, and waited.

Y/n turned to face him, meeting his steely blue gaze, and nodded slightly. She was okay with this. Part of her brain had been begging for Tommy to make a move, and finally, he was. She felt her stomach twist slightly as his fingers pressed into her thigh slightly, having received permission mere seconds earlier.

Tommy was one of a kind, Y/N had decided, and if his family were half as intriguing as he was, she would be in for one hell of a trip.

After what felt like forever, Y/N and her guide pulled up in Small heath. Tommy marched from the car, pushing the front door open, and striding inside, followed dutifully by Y/N and Bruce.

“Tom. You’re back early.” A thick liverpool accent wafted through the smoke, and Y/N froze.

“Yes Pol, I made the deal so there was no reason to hang around.” A chair scraped against the floor and a figure stepped towards them. Sharp, hawk like eyes glared at the two as the woman pulled a cigarette from her lips.

“And who may this be?” Tommy’s hand found the small of Y/N’s back, willing her to answer for herself.

“My name is Y/N L/N, I worked- I work at a dog shelter in London,” she squirmed slightly under Pol’s gaze, waiting for a response.

“I was talking about the dog, but nice to meet you dear.” she muttered with an exasperated sigh. “Polly Grey. I call the shots around here, despite what Tommy may have told you.”

The woman released a long stream of smoke and reached down to stroke Bruce. Y/N’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“This is Bruce.” Tommy grunted, striding between the part-demolished walls, causing his companion to look to Polly for directions.

“Well go on then!” she cried, watching the new girl scuttle after her nephew.

The betting shop, as Y/N discovered, was noisy, smokey and down right boisterous. Finally, she spied Tommy leaning over a desk, and upon noticing her discomfort, Tommy beckoned her over, sliding his hand around her waist as she arrived.

“Y/N I want you to meet my little brother, John,” the young woman nodded shyly in the direction of a man holding a thick leather bound accounting book as he winked. “Be careful of him, he's a womaniser.”

“Ah! Says you Tom!” John interjected, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Don’t listen to him, love, he's boring and old. Come for a drink down The Garrison tonight, yeah? You can meet the rest of us.”

Seeing Y/N’s confused face, Tommy sighed in frustration and shot John a glare.

“I have three brothers and a sister, You’ve met John and, if you want, you can meet Arthur, Ada and Finn tonight.” taking a last drag of his cigarette, Tommy stubbed it out and stalked away, leaving Y/N in silence with John, who was watching the happenings intently.

“He bought the dog shelter that I work at so I would come to Birmingham with him,” Y/N explained, hoping that he wouldn’t ask questions that she didn’t know the answer to.

“Ah,” John nodded, as if this was a common occurrence. “You look tired, there’s a sitting room just through there. If Tom asks, I’ll tell him where you are.”

Y/N thanked the Shelby brother and wandered in the direction that John had indicated, the sounds and smells of the betting shop making her head spin. Finally, having located the sitting room and, finding nobody else inside, she settled onto the soft armchair and closed her eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

When Y/N awoke, the sky had turned the telltale inky blue of night. Stretching gently, she sat up to find that she was not alone. Someone was sitting on the sofa adjacent to the armchair that she occupied, smoking a cigarette with Bruce at their feet. Upon noticing that she had awoken, Bruce stood and waddled over, plonking his head into her lap.

“Heya Brucie,” Y/N croaked, scratching his ears before stretching out her stiff limbs more thoroughly. She squinted into the gloom and slowly was able to distinguish the identity of your companion. In the half light, his features seemed elegant, his high cheekbones turning into mountains and his cheeks became the deep valleys below. If he wasn’t so attractive, he would have looked gaunt, almost skeletal, like the death he caused every day. But to Y/N, the features of his face were angelic.

Tommy Shelby sat on the sofa, gently smoking his cigarette while the young woman awoke. He noticed her studying his features and turned his head, locking his eyes onto hers.

“You’re staring,” he croaked, standing abruptly and rousing Y/N from her thoughts. She tilted her head to watch as he shifted his weight, as if testing the floor. “They’re all at The Garrison waiting for us.”

It was not a long walk from Tommy’s house to the pub, but in a dark unfamiliar place, it felt like miles. Hooked onto Tommy’s arm, Y/N shivered slightly as the evening breeze cut through her clothes making her wish that she had a thicker coat. As she approached The Garrison, however, her muscles relaxed, sensing the warmth and welcoming environment radiating from the glowing windows.

Tommy pushed the doors open, striding into the pub dramatically.

“At ease,” he sighed, nodding to the barman as you stepped into the pub behind him. Without so much as checking on his companion, he turned sharply to the right and stepped into a private booth, the noise inside the pub rising like a tsunami.

Y/N slid inside the booth after Tommy like an obedient puppy as a hush fell over the occupants.Looking around hopefully, Y/N searched for a familiar face and found Polly, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips.

“Y/N!” her head snapped around to find the source of the voice, finding John picking his way to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, she’s Tommy’s new flame, so keep your hands off!” His jest caused Y/Ns cheeks to flame up and she looked at the ground, attempting to avoid the eyes of the booth’s inhabitants. One by one, she was introduced to the Shelby clan by Tommy and John, and eventually found herself gravitating towards Polly and Ada, who, between them, also happened to possess most of the Shelby brain cells.

“So how did you and Tommy meet?” the younger Shelby woman sighed, sipping at her Gin.

Y/N looked up, meeting her gaze and chuckled gently, “He wanted to adopt a dog from the shelter that I worked- that I work at, so I showed him Bruce, and he decided then and there that he wanted him.” Ada nodded as she paused, and Polly let out what seemed to be a chuckle masked as a cough. Y/N furrowed her brow, clearly confused, until Ada interjected.

“Let me guess, he then bought the shelter so you’d come back here? It's very predictable Tommy behaviour is all.” her clarification caused Y/n’s heart to sink. If this was so predictable, then there was no reason to feel as special as she did.

Sensing her dejection, Ada sighed. “Don’t worry sweet, If he did it, it means he’s serious about you. Tommy likes to seem all big and hard, but really, he’s just as much of a softie as Bruce is.” As if to prove her point, Ada reached down and scratched the top of Bruce’s head. Y/N smiled softly, nodding to show her understanding.

“Men, am I right?” she giggled, causing the two other shelby women to smile.

“I’ll drink to that, my dear,” Polly smiled, raising her glass.

The next few days in Small heath were relatively uneventful. Despite having been invited to Birmingham by Tommy, Y/N had barely seen the man, except for ten minutes here and five minutes there. Largely, she had spent her time with Polly and Ada, becoming acquainted with the bustling city. The more time Y/N spent in town, or helping Lizzie with some accounting, the more at home she felt.

Birmingham, Y/N had decided, was largely like London.

Yet something was bugging her. She wanted to know exactly what was going on with Tommy. His hot and cold nature was intriguing to begin with, but now the novelty had worn off and she was stuck in an unfamiliar world without the one who had invited her there.

After a morning of shopping with Ada and mathematics with Lizzie, Y/N found herself draped across one of the armchairs in Tommy’s office while he worked on some contracts at his desk.

“Tommmmm,” she whined, causing the man to raise his eyebrows and hum in response. “Why am I here if all you’re going to do is ignore me?”

Tommy’s head snapped up, Y/N’s question had caught him like a wild right hook.

Finally, she had Tommy cornered.

Tommy gulped, fighting the urge to blurt out the whole reason, that he, Tommy Shelby, was infatuated with this girl from London who worked with dogs and rendered him speechless.

“I- I um thought you would like to see Birmingham,” Y/N raised an eyebrow as the crime boss stumbled over his words.

“We both know that’s not it, Tom. Be honest.”

Tommy glared at the woman in his armchair. She knew why, she was just taunting him. Tommy didn’t like to be taunted. Slowly, he stood from his chair and made his way towards his guest, who looked up at him from under her eyelashes. Then, coming to a stop directly in front of Y/N, he took her chin in his hand and pressed his lips to hers.

“Is that enough of an answer for you?” he muttered against her lips. As they broke away, Tommy thought he heard Y/N mutter something under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as his icy blue eyes bore into hers.

“I love you, Mr. Shelby.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders #fanfiction #shelby company limited #shelby brothers #john shelby #bbc peaky blinders

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atoledo22-blog · 4 years

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Final Writing Portfolio

Alexis Toledo

Professor Barton

Cultural Anthropology

May 11, 2020

Final Writing Collection

Throughout this course, I have learned about the culture variations among many humans. In the classroom, I have learned about other peoples life and how it differs from every person. Many people may experience life in a small bubble and are not aware of the other cultures and types of people that populate our world. This course helps students expand their knowledge on understanding peoples way of living from all over the world. In this class I have learned about social belonging, cultural variability, and diversity throughout the world. With the use of Tumblr, I was able to read about current news that was happening around me. As students, not only are able to learn more about what is happening around us, but learn about different parts the world. This epidemic has caused chaos throughout this world. However, thanks to anthropology, I have learned that despite culture differences we are all in this together.

People, religion, family, and our environment are factors that can contribute to our social belonging. Social belonging is the ability to connect with someone or a group of people that a person can create good relationships with. This sense of social belonging is dependent on whether an individual feels socially accepted. Individuals have their own interest, beliefs, and attitudes towards different things in life. People that share similar interest in the same things are undoubtedly going to gravitate toward each other. People will also present themselves a certain way if they want to fit in a particular group. People will compare themselves to other people of a specific group to determine who they are most similar to to see if they will fit in with the group. People seek to be part of a social group that will give an individual a sense of community and belonging. For example, this is prevalent among teens when they are finding out who their friend group is in school. Teens tend to gravitate towards other kids that have similar interest as them. Kids that have the same hobbies, interest, music taste, and attitude towards different things usually tend to gravitate towards each other. Teens may try and act a certain way to be perceived a certain way that will get them into a certain group. In class, we wrote a personal ethnography that demonstrated a place we consider our place where we sense the most belonging. Generally, people like to be surrounded with people that share similar interest in order to create a sense commonality and build relationships on their interests. People’s personal belonging is different for everyone. This sense of belonging is dependent on whether an individual feels happy, safe, welcomed, and most themselves. Personally, my place of personal belonging was my home. My home is a place where I feel most comfortable and confident. My home is a place that I feel welcomed and I have my family, which is my group of people where I feel most myself. A place where an individual feels belonged and their most comfortable is different for everybody. The importance of having a social belonging is for individuals not to feel alone. Social belonging is simply a fundamental needed by all humans.

Becoming part of a group in any culture always requires a beginning. Whether or not someone was born into a group or voluntarily chose to join, everyone is apart of some group. Everyone has a sense of belonging no matter what race, gender, age, or beliefs someone is. For most people, people are born with a sense of belonging and role in this world. A general example for many people can be birth, marriage, death. When a baby is born, the baby’s sense of belonging could be their mother, father, or immediate family. When a person get married, their spouse is their sense of belonging. That married individual then has to take up the roles of being in a committed relationship. After, death comes and the individuals sense of belonging is gone. Throughout life, people are given roles. Some roles may be a brother or sister, aunt or uncle, aunt or uncle, mother or father, grandma or grandpa, and many more. Each of these roles all require some type of responsibility. These type of roles, give a person a sense of belonging. Another way people can find their sense of belonging is from everyday interaction with different people, weddings, birthdays, community gatherings, and many more. Usually, when people are unfamiliar with the environment they are at, they tend to be antisocial because either they are scared or nervous of judgement. However, whenever dealing with new environments, it is important that people put themselves out there, so they can attract similar types people. By doing this, people can create relationships with others and have a sense of belonging. Everyone wants to feel welcomed and belonged somewhere, however everyone’s journey is different. My sense of belonging for example was my grandmas house when I was younger because she was my main caregiver when I was a young child. However, most of my memories that I have are of my house that I currently live in and that is why I considered my parents house to be a place where I sense most belonging. There are many ways people achieve their sense of belonging, and everyday is a new opportunity to meet new people and create new relationships that can create a sense of belonging for someone.

Moving to New York has made me aware of the many different cultures there are in this world. The diversity in New York City is a great way to learn about cultural variability. Cultural variability is the range of variations between different cultures. There are many different types of cultures, yet they all resemble each other in important ways. Each culture has their own way of living known as culture universals. Culture universals are elements, patters, traits that are common to all human cultures worldwide. Some examples of cultural universals are gender roles, taboo, religious rituals, music, dancing, and anymore that involve some fort of ritual ceremony. These cultural universals are preset in almost any culture and they are a representation of how a certain culture lives. It is important that as a society we are knowledgeable about cultural university and are able to have respect for other cultures around the world. It is important that as a society we are not ethnocentric because that leads to discrimination against cultures. Ethnocentrism is the practice of judging other peoples culture by the point of view of ones own culture. It is important to not judge other people for what type of culture they live in because that would lead to separation among many cultures. Going back to social belonging, people are part of certain groups that have cultural universals. People all over the world have their own culture and this shows diversity and individuality in our world. People identify by their culture and it is a big part of who people are.

Overall this course has taught me to have respect or other cultures. While culture customs, traditions, and beliefs are different from mine, I can still have respect for other peoples cultures from everywhere around the world. Although there are thousands of different cultures in this world, they all have similar characteristics. They all have a religion, beliefs, standards, and morals, justice every culture does. I have also learned that everyone in this world is belonged and welcomed somewhere. There are many different roles people have to take up in life and it can add responsibility and maturity. Throughout a persons life, they will find their place of belonging and be given with many different roles in life. However, persons sense of belonging can change throughout different stages in their life. Who people choose to surround themselves with is a factor on their morals, values, and beliefs. It is a persons choice where they want their sense of belonging to be. In order to understand this, as a society we must respect other cultures even if it may differ from our personal culture.

#ProfessorBartonrocks!

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houseofvans · 6 years

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ART SCHOOL | Q&A with DETH P. SUN

Influenced by the works of Richard Scarry, Charles Schultz, and the likes of Tove Jannson, artist Deth P. Sun’s interest in art and zines started early on–from drawing everything in an encyclopedia to creating his first zine in high school. From that point on, Deth has been a prolific painter, zine maker, and doodler, focused on making his art on his own terms. With his central hero– a genderless cat – Deth explores various natural and strange worlds through a subtle narrative, created by his brushwork, ambiguity, and color palettes.

Find out more about Deth’s art, his wordless storytelling, and what inspires him by taking the leap below.

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself? My name is Deth P. Sun, I’m an artist living in a tiny coastal town in Northern California, but most of my adult life was spent in the Bay Area, primarily in Oakland and Berkeley. I tell people I’m Cambodian, which is mostly true.

When did you begin having an interest in art and painting? How or why do you think you gravitated towards this profession? I’ve always enjoyed drawing, I think I kind of like getting better at it and learning about new things that are centered around that. It’s one of the cheaper hobbies to get started in as a kid. It’s not really a thing I think about too much these days. Mostly I wonder how my life was set by my 17 year old self.

How do you describe your work to people who maybe unfamiliar with it? Until I moved to this town I live in now, I kind of never had to. Mostly because I don’t meet new people outside of my circle. I just tell people I’m a graphic artist. If they want more info I just stare at them blankly because I think it’s kind of rude to ask strangers what they do for a living.

There are various aspects to your paintings from being narrative and storytelling to those that feature various painted objects and natural things. Can you tell us a little bit about the narrative elements of your works and how that came about? Yeah, I just like suggesting that there’s a narrative with my work, which isn’t that hard as long as you don’t stray too much from your pallette or reuse images to find in each painting. I kind of like seeing a whole set of paintings, that’s when you sense that there is a story.

When did you protagonist character start to take shape? How did that evolve and come-about? I’ve just always drew a character like that. Probably in high school. It’s been so long I don’t really remember. It probably came from my sketchbook. Most of my sketchbooks are kind of boring because it was just me repeatedly drawing the same stuff until I got better at it. I think I was trying to draw a cat and I drew something else that I liked.

In some of your other works, you paint collections of items from food, mushrooms, crystals to swords and old style cell phones. How did these paintings originate for you? Were you finding yourself sketching certain things that you read about or were you just obsessed with a certain object that week? My parents taught themselves English using Richard Scarry books so they were the first books I had my hands on. It’s just pages and pages of him drawing things with words describing what they were underneath. When I was younger I had this project where I’d take an encyclopedia and try drawing everything in it. I think I only got to M. Also when I was kid while drawing in my sketchbook I would just run out of stuff to draw so I’d go room to room drawing everything in each room.

It was just a thing to kill time.

How has where you live and its landscape influenced the work you create? What’s your favorite thing about residing there? I guess it does a little, but I think I drew the stuff and then when I got here, I liked it a lot, so I ended up on this tiny coastal town on the bluffs. I started drawing weird epic landscapes after watching a bunch of Swedish films a few years ago.

What was your last adventure or walk through your neighborhood that showed up in one of your work, thematically or just visually? One time a friend invited me to a barbeque. They lived near the train tracks a couple of miles from me, so I walked up the tracks passed the cemetery and over a few tressel bridges. It was really nice walk. Met a turtle. They had to come down and get me because I didn’t know the path to their house, and it was getting dark.

What IS your favorite thing to draw or paint? Do you have an UNfavorite thing to draw or paint? I like drawing pineapples. I hate when strangers ask me to draw them. I want to punch them in the face.

When did you start picking up the paint brush and taking your works to the canvas? What do you enjoy about painting vs. drawing? The first time I painted was in my high school art class, I think like most other Americans. I was using tempera, so it sucked. But I started buying acrylic soon after. I think painting and drawing is kind of the same thing, or least I just paint like I’m drawing. I don’t think it was a strange transition.

What’s a typical day like for you at home and in the studio? What’s your process like? I fill out internet orders sometimes, or a wholesale order. Sometimes I draw. Mostly I get up and look at my email and go, “I have a lot of stuff to do and this is gonna suck”. I don’t really multitask, so it’s usually me filling out orders for 8 hours and trying to get to the post office before 4:30 while watching dumb shit on the internet, or me helping a friend screen print in my garage, or if I have a show just ignoring everything else in life and painting for two months.

A few years ago I kind of got burnt out of making a living with just painting. So I was like maybe I should make more t-shirts and prints. So I ended up moving to Fort Bragg and screenprinting more stuff and making more drawings toward that. But now my days are filled with me screen printing and filling out small orders or hanging out on my computer photoshopping all day. So now I’m in some other kind of hell.

What are your go-to art tools? A Pilot Hi-Tec C (They’re called G-Tec 4s in other places) pen. I use the .4, but should probably switch to .5. You have to have a light touch with them or else they’ll jam.

Right now I enjoy using Mitsubishi pencils, but the cheap Mirado Black Warrior pencil you can get at most stationary store is just as good.

Been filling a sketchbook using Opaque markers. Posca’s are pretty good, but the color choices are limited, so I started buying Molotow. The Molotow’s can be refilled so they might end up being a better value.

Lately I’ve been painting with cheap $2 craft paints mostly because I don’t like mixing colors. Just bought a few of the Martha Stewart’s at Michaels. I still buy Golden and Liquitex, but it’s nice to mix in other stuff.

Not only do you draw and paint, you are always printing and creating zines of your works. Do you remember your very first zine you made? Are you working on a new zine? The first zine I made was pretty horrible. It was staple at the top corner, and I gave it out to my friends when I was in high school. I put everything precious in a box before I left for college and when I came back my dad had threw it out. At the time I was pretty bummed, but now I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that. I’m always working on something. Sometimes things take a really long time. I drew everything I ate while in England and Scotland several years ago and just now getting it all together. I’ve gotten rejected from a bunch of zine fairs, so there really isn’t a urgency to get it finished. I’m thinking of making one for the tiny town I’m in, and other that’s like a newspaper, but filled with just my gibberish drawing of words.

Do you have a favorite zine maker out there you’d like to share with folks? I’m pretty excited to be tabling at Comics Art Brooklyn. Last year I sat nearby Evan Cohen (http://www.evanmcohen.com) who I had just bought zines online from a few weeks before so that was kind of unexpected. He makes rad work. There was a few other artists there whose work I enjoyed. I came home with a lot of nice prints which I never really get from strangers. Stuff from Natalie Andrewson, Tiny Splendor, most everything Peow Studios publishes, and Jen Tong. I like this zine called Terror House by Sammy Harkham that I’d buy a few to give out to friends and the zines my friend, Evah Fan makes.

What are you constantly inspired by? And who are some of your early and current art influences? I think what keeps me going is random problem solving with how I paint. Or maybe the natural world. I don’t really know if I’m being totally honest. I grew up reading Peanuts. It has it’s good moments. I think I became comfortable with not always having to be in the up. I really like Tove Jannson’s work.. I’m not a fan Tintin, but I like the way Hergé uses color and lines. I was lucky enough to come to the Bay Area while the Mission School was around and Yoshitoma Nara had a few shows, so it made it okay for me to make paintings the way I do.

What do you do when you are not painting, drawing or making zines? How do you find yourself unwinding? I watch a lot of dumb shit on youtube and take long walks. Each week I go to a game night where I do board games (Catan, Ticket to Ride, Dixit, Pirates Cove are in the usual rotation). I like to cook and have people over. I actually unwind by drawing and watching a lot of basketball while listening to basketball podcasts.

What advice would you offer to an aspiring artist who might wanna follow in your footsteps? Be nice to everyone you meet ever. Always try to learn. Don’t get caught up in what people think of you or your work. Know that if you keep on doing something you’ll get better at it. Pick up different hobbies. Make friends with other artists. Be open to all opportunities. Get used to rejection.

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks? Some random wisdom you learned through your personal journey or just while making art? You know I don’t know if I’m the best person to get advice from since I sort of carved out this weird existence. When you’re young, it’s easy to get caught up in weird things and maybe a person should just get caught up in those things. I do meet old school mates who have regrets about how their time in art school was spent, but I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way of doing it. I think there really isn’t any rush, and also if you feel like you “failed” you can always just get back up because no one is really paying attention.

I think I hear a lot from folks who worry that they’re too old to try painting or doing art for a living. And I’d hear this from someone who’s like 25 or 30. But there really isn’t a deadline to any of this stuff and also no one really knows how old anyone is. I think everyone’s trying to get to some sort of finish line, but really just existing and making work is all there is.

What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist? In an alternate universe, what career would Deth find himself doing? I’d probably be working in tech if I’m being honest with myself.

What’s a question you never get asked in an interview that you wanna ask yourself and answer? There really isn’t.

What are your favorite style of VANS? My favorite Vans were the slip ons with a grey herring bone pattern on them. I had 4 or 5 pairs, but I think they switched to a smaller pattern because I couldn’t find them again.

What’s coming up for you the rest of the year or into the next? Comic Arts Brooklyn (http://comicartsbrooklyn.com), a solo show in January at Spoke Art (https://spoke-art.com) in San Francisco. I’ll have stuff at a print fair in Oakland (https://www.oaklandprintfair.com), and an art book fair in Berlin (http://www.friendswithbooks.org/content/about) through Vanilla Studios (http://vanillastud.io).

FOLLOW DETH | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE | SHOP

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Deth P. Sun #Art School #interview #painting #drawing

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years

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Heard About Us: One

A/N: Maya and CoCo are finally meeting. I won’t say too much until the last part is posted but, I would like to say (type) a huge thank you to @brianabreeze for creating such an iconic character and agreeing to work with me on this. If you want to be added of removed from the tag list, let one of us know. Enjoy.

Friendly conversation pinged from table to table as women from all walks of life settled into the Ritz Carlton ballroom for the scheduled event. Spearheaded by a Los Angeles based support group, the weekend was reserved to celebrate and encourage women that have endured miscarriages. Ladies from all walks of life were invited to share their stories of pain and triumph in a safe and uplifting environment.

Tasha Boseman stood in the near the door, assisting with check-in to distract her brain from the nervous energy surging through her body.

“T, why are you over here,” her best friend and event planner, Yvonne, asked walking up to the table. “I appreciate the help but, I think I got it from here.”

“Damn! Excuse me for wanting to help my girl.”

“Don’t start, heffa. I know you well enough to know that you don’t want to go in there and talk to people.”

“You don’t know shit,” Tasha mumbled, looking around the room at the unfamiliar faces. Motherhood and being a wife had been her security blanket for five years. Now, she was forced to interact with people that weren’t her husband or daughter and she was uncharacteristically nervous. “Okay, you’re right!”

Grabbing her shoulders, Yvonne led a deep breathing exercise. “You are here to meet and bond with women that share your story. It’s okay to be scared but, you’ve gotta get out there and make new friends.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me anymore?”

“I’m saying,” Yvonne turned Tasha’s body to face the large ballroom. “Go mingle. It’s time for you to make more mommy friends. Go on!”

With a light shove, Tasha found herself shying away from the moment. Always the life of the party, she never had issues sparking conversation and meeting new people. Life managed to force her into a cocoon, making her first event since having her daughter feel like her first day of high school.

Nervously, the threaded through the see of people to reach her table. She sat alone and observed the cocktail hour, mentally complimenting outfits and eavesdropping on nearby conversations. Curiosity got the best of Tasha as she began to wonder who she was seated next to for the night.

“Serena Williams, oh thank God,” she commented, thankful that at least one familiar person would join her. “Jacquelyn, Tracy and...Maya Udaku, Queen of Wakanda.”

Her eyes bugged at the nameplate situated beside her seat. Tasha had met various women at the top of their professions from Beyonce to Soledad O’Brien but never a Queen.

Whipping her phone out, she tapped away in the Google search engine, trying to gather any information she could before the event began.

“Bachelor of Arts from Yale, songwriter, and award winning actress? Okay, sis, I see you!” Scrolling through the images, she smiled at a photo of the Queen in her sorority attire. “Uh oh, we got a ‘K’ in the house.”

As an alumnae chapter member of Delta Sigma Theta, Tasha had long pushed past the undergraduate jokes between the sororities and enjoyed spending time with other members of the Divine 9 organizations.

“Good evening, ladies,” Misha, the event’s organizer, started. “If I could get your attention for a moment, we’ll be starting in about ten minutes. Please, continue to mingle as you find your seats.”

As Tasha sent a quick text to her husband to find out more information, a regal presence settled over the room. Maya, in all her glory, came sauntering into the event space flanked by two fierce warriors on either side.

Her energy was warm despite seeming physically uncomfortable. Others would mistake her short introductions and nonchalant demeanor for snob behavior but, Tasha knew better. She was all too familiar with the defense mechanism because she frequently employed it in unfamiliar company. Maya was nervous.

“She looks familiar. Think I’ve seen her on stage before when we lived in New York.”

Chadwick sent back, not answering any of the questions that his wife had asked. Closing the message thread, Tasha focused her attention on the two guards flanking the owner of the last seat at the table.

“My Queen, your seat,” the deep brown woman informed the monarch. All eyes fell on Maya as she took her seat in silence.

“Thank you Ayo. You and Kali can stand outside the doors. I’ll call you if I need you.”

The guards eyed her curiously, remaining steadfast until they were given a reassuring nod. Turning back to the table of women in front of her, Maya gave everyone a once over, trying to decipher the various facial expressions around the table. When she stopped at Tasha, she was greeted with a warm, half smile and extended hand.

“I’m Tasha, Tasha Boseman. How you doin’, sis?” Her familiar Southern accent made Maya smile as she reached out to return the gesture.

“Maya Udaku, Queen of Wakanda. I’m good, girl. Nervous as hell.”

“Girl, you must be reading my mind!”

The new acquaintances shared a brief smile before their attention was drawn to the woman stepping to the podium at the front of the room.

“Again, good evening,” Misha waited for the responses to die down before continuing. “Welcome to our first ever women’s retreat, sponsored by my women’s support group based in LA. We’re so excited to have you here with us. To kick us off for the night, we have a few ice breaker questions in the bowls in the center of your tables. We want you to find a partner at your table and pick questions from the bowl to learn a bit more about each other. How does thirty minutes sound?” Murmurs of agreeance sounded in response. “Good! Time starts...now!”

Pairing began immediately as the women around the room began to gravitate toward those they knew best. Tasha attempted to turn to Serena, finding that her friend had already paired with Gabrielle Union. Looking to her left, she noticed Maya nervously tapping at the table, watching the commotion around her.

“Should I go first or do you want to?”

Maya snapped out of her daze, offering a small smile. “You go ahead.”

“Okay, first question! Where are you from?”

“Originally? Savannah, Georgia. But, my parents raised me in New York. What about you? I hear that twang in your voice.”

“I was born and raised in Lithonia, Georgia. We’re basically next door neighbors,” Tasha laughed. “Your turn.”

Maya reached for the bowl to pick a slip of paper to unravel. “Oh, this is a good one. Share an interesting fact that not many people know about you.”

“Damn, that’s hard. Uh...not too many people know that I have my husband’s initials tattooed on my ring finger.” Tasha removed her wedding band to show the small “CAB” inscribed on the inner portion of the digit. “Don’t judge me. In my defense, he got his first!”

“Girl, how can I judge? I have my man’s name on me too!”

“Oop,” Tasha quirked her eyebrows at Maya. “I’m gonna assume that you not showing me where it is means that you got it somewhere that only he would see.”

Maya mirrored Tasha’s expression causing the two to fall out in a bout of loud laughter.

“Okay, you caught me! What’s the next question?”

“Alright, let’s see what we got,” Tasha fished for another piece of paper. “Are or were you a member of any organizations?”

“I think the one I take the most pride in is my sorority.”

“Sorority? Let me find out you’re a soror!” Though she knew the answer to the question, Tasha decided to let Maya reveal the information on her own.

“Only if you’re part of the first and finest sorority in all the land.”

“Oh no ma’am. I prefer to identify as a woman of vision, a devastating diva!”

“A Delta! Girl, I’m so sorry.”

The ladies shared another laugh, both of them silently excited to find someone that shared their sense of humor. Had Maya attempted that shade with anyone else, it would almost always turn into a passive aggressive altercation. With Tasha, she felt comfortable enough to drop the tidbit of sass and know that it could be appreciated.

“I’ll let you have that one! So, line name and number? You look like the tre.”

“Close, I was the quad. Akatress is what they called me. What about you?”

“I’m the lovely four duck known as Legend4ry in Deltaland,” Tasha answered, flipping her twist out dramatically. “I didn’t get the undergrad, Alpha chapter experience unfortunately. I was in way too much to pledge but, I’m an alumnae chapter member back home in Los Angeles.”

“You all have time for one more question!” Misha informed the group.

Maya unraveled the last slip of paper and read the question, “This is a cute one! Do you have any kids and, if so, do you have any pictures?”

“Lord knows I love showing off my baby,” Tasha beamed, reaching for her phone to show off her only daughter. Clicking the button in the side of her phone, she revealed an adorable picture of Micah showing off the awards she received at her kindergarten graduation. “This is my little one, Micah Noelle.”

“Girl, she is gorgeous! She looks likes my baby Malaika when she was younger. Here, look!” Maya opened her phone to search for a baby picture of her oldest child.

“Wooooow! Literal twins! What does she look like now?”

It was true. Give or take a few features, Mala and Micah could’ve been mistaken as twins at that age. Swiping to the next picture, Maya came to a more recent picture.

“This is her now with her brother, Abdul.”

“She’s such a little model. And look at this handsome young man! Your kids are beautiful!” While viewing the photo, Tasha scrunched her face in curiosity at a figure in the background. “Hey, who i-”

“Times up, ladies!” Maya, oblivious to the confusion on Tasha’s face retrieved her phone before turning to focus her attention on the front of the stage. She didn’t want to seem crazy but, she couldn’t shake the familiar face in the background of the picture.

“Tomorrow is about sharing our stories but, tonight is about fun!” The women in attendance applauded, happy for the opportunity to let their hair down and enjoy themselves. “There’s food, music and enough alcohol to make sure everyone has a good time. Feel free to indulge and mingle. Remember, our panel discussion starts the day at 11 am, followed by some group therapy sessions. Now, let’s get this shit started, shall we?”

On cue, DJ Queen of Spade started the mixer with Rihanna’s “Pour it Up” to encourage women to get up and move around. The energy of the room created an open environment for all in attendance, famous and blue collar alike, to spark conversation and enjoy the festivities.

Like magnets, Tasha and Maya remained close for the remainder of the night. As Maya moved, so did Tasha and vice versa. They shared stories of motherhood during dinner, introduced each other to their respective friends and colleagues and made time to take keepsake pictures in the provided photobooth. In a short time, the two women from worlds closer than they thought, became inseparable.

By the end of the night, they were holding each other up, drunkenly engaging in a battle of compliments while they took the elevator from the hotel lobby to their respective floors.

“Oh my God, Star, your shoes are so cute.”

“No no no, Co, your hair though...it’s like, so beautiful.”

“No, your hair is fuckin’ amazing. In Wakanda do they-” Tasha paused to hiccup and laugh at herself. “What was I saying?”

“Girl, I don’t know. What was I saying?”

They laughed together, missing the soft ‘ding’ of the elevator as it reached the19th floor. Neither of them noticed the annoyed figure that stood in front of them with his arms crossed as the doors slid open.

“Kitten, where have you been? It is time for you to come to bed. Do you know how long I sat awake waiting for you?”

Maya kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes at her husband’s pestering, “Cletus, I was having fun. Take your grumpy ass upstairs!” Turning to address Tasha, she noticed her company’s strange expression. “This is my husband, T’Challa. T’Challa, this is Tasha.”

“Good morning, Tasha. I assume you are the one that kept my wife away from me for so long?” He extended his hand to the bewildered woman, growing more agitated when she did not return the gesture.

“Ch-Chadwick?”

“I’ll give you one minute, Maya. Do not make me come and find you.” He warned, ignoring Tasha.

“Yeah, whatever, nigga. I’m grown, too!” Maya shook her head at her husband before turning to address Tasha. “He’s such an old man but, he’s so fine.”

“That’s your husband?”

“Most times. Some days I feel like trading him in for a bottle of Hennessy,” the joking tone in her voice dropped when she noticed Tasha’s expression. “Girl, you are fucked up. You sure you can get back to your room by yourself? I can have one of my guards escort you. Ayo!”

Snapping out of her haze, Tasha shook her head. “No! Don’t...I mean...I can make it on my own. I’ll be okay. I just need to get to my man so he can fix all this.”

“Oooh, same, girl! Challa is mad and I love Daddy when he’s mad! See you in the morning. You wanna meet for breakfast. I don’t know if their food is good but, we can try it out.”

“And if it’s not, I know a place where can go get some good ass biscuits!”

The two Southern women shared a moment, grasping hands while they bonded over their love of a fluffy biscuits and authentic breakfast items.

“Good night, Tasha. Thank you for helping me loosen up.” Past the thin, alcohol induced gloss over her eyes, Maya’s sincerity was on display for Tasha to observe.

“Don’t mention it. We gotta stick together out here. Even if you are an AKA.”

“Oh, girl!”

“KITTEN! I A-”

“I’m got damn coming, T’Challa! Go to bed!” Tasha watched in amusement as the King rolled his eyes and recoiled to enter their suite. Maya returned her attention to the woman in front of her, adding a small smile. “Is 9:45 a good time?”

“It’s perfect. Now, go ahead and get to your man before he comes back. I don’t want no problems.”

“Eh, he’ll get over it. He shouldn’t have followed me here if he was going to complain the whole time.”

After a brief hug, Tasha stayed put to make sure Maya got into her room safely before pushing the button to get to the next floor. The stagger in her walk prolonged the trip and, when she finally reached the door, she fumbled with the key to grant her access to her bed and husband.

On the fifth attempt, the wooden door flung open to reveal her shirtless and groggy partner.

“Somebody had a good time,” He yawned while scratching his chest.

“Are you really Aaron or is this a joke?”

“What are you-” He paused to identify the smell oozing from her pores. “CoCo, you know you can’t drink. Come in here so I can get you in the bed.”

“Aaron, I-”

Chadwick tuned her out as he pulled her inside and closed the door behind her. Her sloppy recounting of the night’s events fell on deaf ears while he undressed her and did his best to tie her scarf around the perimeter of her head. When he was done, he carefully guided her to the bedroom to tuck her in before crawling into the space beside her and pulling her body into his.

“Baby, I swear he looks just like you!”

“Mhmm, he looks just like me. I hear you, sweetheart. How about we save this conversation for the morning. Hm?”

“M’kay,” the alcohol was beginning to transform her talkative spell into drowsiness as she snuggled closer to her husband. “You don’t think I’m crazy, right?”

“Of course not, baby. I think you’re drunk,” he kissed her forehead and pulled the covers over her bare shoulders. “And crazy.”

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#CoCo x Maya #Maya x CoCo #Actress Reader #chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #t'challa imagine #black panther fics #black panther fan fiction #black panther fiction #black panther fanfiction #black panther #t'challa fan fiction

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grellaofasguard-blog · 5 years

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So you are seriously thinking about getting your first cat, and you are certain you need to get a cat in the life of yours. Splendid! You may have some preconceived notions that you would like a particular breed of cat, or perhaps that you would like a kitten rather than an adult kitty. But before that important decision, do some homework. Like life itself, you will find many issues involved in picking a cat, some of which you won't have thought about. Here's the help you will need in making the decision. On the flip side, you might end up lucky enough to be chosen by the cat of the future of yours.

Male Vs. Female

Personality-wise, there actually isn't a considerable amount of difference between the sexes, if they're neutered. Whole male cats are going to fight for territory in case outdoors, and inside your home will liberally spray the strong scent of theirs on curtains and walls, to mark the territory of theirs. Whole females will spray on occasion. Worse yet, they are going to make themselves and you miserable whenever they go into season, with loud yowls and also bizarre body gyrations.

On the other hand, as soon as spayed, their personalities will improve. I have known male cats being loving and loyal, and they're my usual preference. Other folks recommend female cats as felicity. Bottom type is that it doesn't make a lot of difference. You will wish to look for personality first, then in case you buy several nice kitties, narrow it down to sex, if that is crucial to you.

Pedigreed Cat Vs. "Moggie"

You might already have been to a pet retail store (heaven forbid!) or perhaps a cat show, where you fell in love with a specific breed, Klikk her. One important factor with pure bred cats is that, unless of course the breeders have years of experience with genetics, and thoroughly chooses their breeding stock with the cats' full pedigree background, undesirable traits will creep into the breed. Some breeds have inherent problems due to this, e.g. Persians with P.K.D.and/or nasal issues due to their foreshortened noses. Reputable breeders will screen the cats of theirs and also offer guarantees against known physical problems in their breed.

"Moggies," which I've used from the English term for household diverse breed cats, are of unfamiliar parentage. The Moggie you stick to from a protection or perhaps rescue organization will most probably be described as a genuine "orphan." Because their health and genetic heritage are unknown, it's crucial for a shelter cat to be tested against some illnesses, as well as to receive his "shots," preferably before you bring a single home.

Adult Cat Vs. Kitten

When you first go to a shelter you will be torn between appealing kittens clustered in cages, but keep in your thoughts that grown cats generally are a lot more "user-friendly", and will be ever-so-happy to find a new house. These cats typically came from a happy family setting and were given up because of illness of a proprietor, divorce, death, etc. The benefits to you in adopting an older cat are many:

Much older cats (other than ferals) are usually trained to a litter package.

Kittens are rambunctious and lively. The household of yours will never again be peaceful with a mad kitten running around. If "serenity" is the lifestyle of yours, you'll be better off with an elderly cat.

Grown cats may already have been neutered as well as had its "shots."

Older cats may make the move to a new household easier compared to kittens. Older cats are considerably more grateful!The advantage on the earlier cat is that the majority of of these cats will not find homes because individuals naturally gravitate toward the kittens.

A final concern is your own age. If you are 65 or older, it is always possible that you won't outlive the cat of yours, therefore an older cat would be a fantastic choice. You could even need to adopt a "disabled" cat, that we now consider as "special needs cats," 1 that is blind, deaf, an amputee, or normally "disabled." These cats make great companions and compensate for their "disabilities" with many devotion and love for their man savior.

For additional info, please read this particular illustrated article on the countless Reasons to Adopt an Older Cat.

If you're younger, with school age children, a cat who is one or two years old would be a terrific choice, and s/he can grow up with the children of yours.

One or more Cats?

You may well have not even entertained the thought of adopting much more than one cat, although it is typical for an individual to go to a refuge to adopt one particular kitty and come dwelling with two. You may fall in love with a gorgeous, personable cat, simply to realize that she has a littermate or "best friend" as well as can certainly only be used together with a pair. The response of mine to that scenario would be that in case you've space in the home of yours and the heart of yours and the information to care for over one, you will be compensated with much more than twice the volume of pleasure. This's very true when getting a kitten. Kittens are dozens of interesting, but for a selection of purposes, two kittens are better than one, in cases that are many.

#pets

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bunnysbloodycarnival-blog · 5 years

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So you're really thinking about getting your first cat, and you are sure you should get a cat in the life of yours. Splendid! You may have some preconceived notions that you want a certain breed of cat, or even that you want a kitten instead of an adult kitty. But before that crucial decision, do a little homework. Like life itself, there are many issues involved in choosing a cat, several of which you might never have thought about. Here is the help you need in making that decision. On the flip side, you may end up lucky enough to be picked by the cat of the future of yours.

Male Vs. Female

Personality-wise, there actually is not a considerable amount of difference between the sexes, if they're neutered. Whole male cats are going to fight for territory in case outdoors, and inside will liberally spray their strong scent on curtains and walls, to mark their territory. Whole women will spray on occasion. Worse yet, they will make themselves and you miserable each and every time they go into season, with obnoxious yowls and bizarre body gyrations.

On another hand, as soon as spayed, the personalities of theirs will improve. I have known male cats being loving and loyal, and they are my usual preference. Others recommend female cats as felicity. Bottom type is that it does not make a really big difference. You will wish to look for character first, then in case you buy a number of nice kitties, narrow it down to sex, if that's vital to you.

Pedigreed Cat Vs. "Moggie"

You may well have previously been to a pet store (heaven forbid!) or a cat show, where you fell in love with a specific breed, Klikk her. One important factor with pure bred cats is, until the breeders have years of experience with genetics, and very carefully chooses the breeding stock of theirs with the cats' full pedigree background, undesirable traits will creep into the breed. Some breeds have inherent problems due to this, e.g. Persians with P.K.D.and/or nasal issues due to their foreshortened noses. Reputable breeders are going to screen the cats of theirs as well as offer guarantees against known bodily issues in the breed of theirs.

"Moggies," that I have used in the English term for household mixed breed cats, are of unfamiliar parentage. The Moggie you follow from a shelter or rescue organization will more than likely be described as a real "orphan." Because the health of theirs and genetic history are unknown, it is crucial for a shelter cat to be able to be subjected to testing against some illnesses, and also to obtain his "shots," preferably before you bring a single home.

Adult Cat Vs. Kitten

When you first visit a shelter you'll be torn between pleasing kittens clustered in cages, but keep in your thoughts that grown cats generally are much more "user friendly", and will be ever-so-happy to find a new home. These cats often came from a happy family setting and were given up because of illness of an owner, death, divorce, etc. The advantages to you in adopting an elderly cat are many:

Older cats (other than ferals) are usually trained to a litter label.

Kittens are lively and rambunctious. Your household will never again be peaceful with a mad kitten running around. If "serenity" is your lifestyle, you will be better off with an older cat.

Grown cats might already have been neutered as well as had its "shots."

Older cats may make the change to a new home easier compared to kittens. Older cats are much more grateful!The benefit on the more mature cat is that most of these cats will not find homes because people naturally gravitate toward the kittens.

A final consideration is the own age of yours. If you are 65 or older, it's usually probable that you will not outlive the cat of yours, so an older cat would be a great choice. You might actually want to adopt a "disabled" cat, that we now reference as "special needs cats," one that is blind, deaf, an amputee, or usually "disabled." These cats make wonderful companions and compensate for their "disabilities" with a wealth of love and devotion for their man savior.

For additional info, please read this particular illustrated article on the countless Reasons to Adopt an Older Cat.

If you're younger, with school-age kids, a cat who is one or perhaps 2 years old would be a good choice, and s/he can grow up with the children of yours.

One or higher Cats?

You may haven't even entertained the idea of adopting much more than one cat, but it's not unusual for somebody to go to a shelter to embrace a single kitty and come dwelling with 2. You may fall in love with a beautiful, personable cat, only to discover that she's a littermate or perhaps "best friend" and may simply be used during a pair. The response of mine to that scenario is that in case you've space in your home and the heart of yours and the information to care for longer than one, you'll be rewarded with much more than two times the amount of joy. This is particularly true when obtaining a kitten. Kittens are scores of interesting, but for a selection of purposes, 2 kittens are better than one, in many cases.

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hogwartselementumrp · 7 years

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Dearest Caitlin, it is with much excitement and deep pleasure that I offer you the role that was supposed to be written by May first if the original plan had been followed. A few bumps and delays on all sides later, Aerwynna Howell, is yours. I would have been convinced by nothing but the enchanting words of this application that you fully grasp her character and will develop her in exciting ways and develop relationships new and old, but it’s been a pleasure talking to you this past month since you showed interest. Get her on the dash asap!

OOC Information

NAME/ALIAS: Something relating to my gleeful destruction of the romantic relationships of my characters. Go wild, surprise me.

PREFERRED PRONOUN: Oh Great and Terrible Creature of Nightmares.

AGE: I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I’M FEELING TWENTY TWOOOO.

TIMEZONE: What does it even fuckin matter my sleep schedule obeys no time zones

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I am trying REALLY HARD and lbr I’ll never be off Aerwynna once she is mine

HOW DID YOU FIND THE RP (NEW MEMBERS): Beth came to me in a dream and said ‘join this roleplay it will eat your free time and you’ll never escape’ and dream me replied ‘fuck it sure’ and here we are, over two years later.

Character Information

NAME OF THE CHARACTER: Aerwynna Howell

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS: You mean beyond the wailing noises of hysterical excitement I’ve been making over the last month while we’ve talked about her? UH. Okay. Well.

Aerwynna is the elegant, ethereal figure in the dreams of half of Mayte’s children, resting a cool palm to their foreheads to soothe fevers and counselling them on matters that range from heartbreak to their purpose in the world. She has been, for a long time, a surrogate mother to her home, a valued adviser and quiet comfort, always on the peripheral, constant in her presence but something that did not need to be acknowledged or appreciated openly. And that was fine. It was her role, carved out for herself, important in its own way and tailor made to pull on everything she excels at.

Deep down, however, she always knew that one day that would change; that it would stop being where she was meant to be, would stop being enough. She knew from the moment she clapped her eyes on the neat, dark haired little boy in church, who spouted poetry so easily and held fervent, then half-formed convictions deep in his lovely, dark eyes.

She is the gentle, comforting hand the Mayte’s need; a constant of home, come to reaffirm that their choices are right and to help talk through and soothe away doubts. But beyond that - beyond her role as the White Queen to Lawrence’s Black King, possibilities of a rekindled romantic relationship aside - this is what she wants for herself. This was her belief before it was hersandLawrence’s, is a mission she has had faith in from the beginning, even if she had no place on the front line at the beginning.

For what feels like the first time in her life, she’s not entirely certain what she should do, how she should handle a world she is entirely unfamiliar with; but she is more than determined, is destined to take control of this and help to guide this world as it falls apart and then recreates itself, and she will not show weakness.

ANY CHANGES YOU WISH TO MAKE?: God no she’s so perfect

TITLES: I’d like if she could take some kind of role assisting Neville in teaching Herbology/at least have clearance to pop into Hogwarts and tend to some of the trickier plants grown in the greenhouses. I know it would only make sense for after she’s been in Hogsmede for a while, but she would want to take any and all initiative to keep an eye on Nerissa.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lucille

Though Lucille is…difficult, for Aerwynna, a lost child, too wild and unfocused, she feels an instinctive pull toward caring for her, seeing Propera in her wildness, and so much potential to be a lot more. She doesn’t judge her for leaving - as someone who never married, she cannot think poorly of someone who decided their marriage was not right for them and left to discover her true purpose - but in her absence got very close to her children, especially little Emmett, suddenly without a mother at such a young age. There is a little coldness in her, for the sake of the child and the gentle, loving hand he should have had to raise him but has now been denied; but more than that, she sees Lucille as another errant little sister in need of her advice and assistance. How long her patience lasts with her, however, remains to be seen.

Olivier

Aerwynna would never claim to have anything close to Lawrence’s nose for young ‘talent’; but when this young man walked into the potions shop on her second day in town, she felt an interest rise in her that has yet to fade, and promises great things. Beyond the instinct, the bone deep feeling that tells her he could be a valuable asset, she finds him pleasant and slightly amusing; and she has found herself quickly growing attached to the young man. She knows the stereotypes, knows this is expected of women her age with suddenly empty nests; but she honestly believes he is special, and wants to cultivate that as best she can.

Charlie

For Aerwynna, Charlie was never a project. He was, to start, the roguish, silly boy her darling little sister had cow eyes for; and then he was a young man with potential, with hidden depths and all one needed to really become important, to change lives and help shape the future. It was excitement that drove her to mention the young man to Lawrence, and she has yet to regret making such a decision, having no idea the ways in which Lawrence has driven Charlie from the fold; but even after he left Shani - the same way Lawrence left Aewynna herself, though without Shani knowing just what he was leaving to achieve - Aerwynna remains incredibly fond of him, and eager for him to be part of the Mayte’s work in the wizarding world.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS:

Lawrence

There are no words for what Lawrence is to her. He left because their paths were splitting - temporarily, of course - but Aerwynna never ceased to be his, and in her mind he never ceased to be hers. She doesn’t know if they will pick up where they left off when they meet again, can’t even know if it’s what she really wants; but he is, and always has been, it for her. There is no other. There never will be, as far as she is concerned.

Nerissa

Though Nerissa is her niece, and sister in the eyes of everyone in Mayte, she has always been Aerwynna’s baby. Motherhood came easy to her for all her sisters, but Nerissa was always different, always needed her more, and Aerwynna has never been able to help the way she gravitates toward the younger woman. Besides the cause, Nerissa is one of the main reasons she finally left Mayte. While all her sisters grew up and found lives for themselves, the youngest member of her family was out in the world, needing guidance and comfort; and Aerwynna knows better than anything just when and where she is needed. Nerissa needs her. Whether she likes it or not.

PARA SAMPLE

It’s 1am and I’m tired pls don’t make me.

#accepted

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archivesdiveronarpg · 7 years

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Congratulations, MADZ! You’ve been accepted for the role of MACBETH (with a faceclaim change of Tom Ellis). Madz, you have no idea how happy I am to entrust Macbeth into your hands once more. You give him this darkness that drips off of him so subtly it makes me sigh a bit because I’m not entirely sure whether I want to feel bad for him or cheer him on in his duplicitous endeavors. The way that you capture his voice, his tragic spiral, and his all-too-devilish charm is something that I’ve always loved and now I have the pleasure of watching it in action again. Welcome back into the family, my dear! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Madz

Age | 20 years young, my dudes.

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I should be around a decent amount, probably about a ⅚ because… well, school.

Timezone | EST

In Character

Character | Macbeth; Mikael Falco (fc change to Tom Ellis perhaps ;-) )

What drew you to this character? | I wanna play a bad guy. Honestly it’s as simple as that for me at this point, I want to play a bad guy. Mikael Falco is what people consider a bad guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a great bad guy. Sure he walks the walk and most certainly talks the talk, but deep down, there’s something in him that restrains him from really unleashing the full extent of power that we want to see in a bad guy. That something is obedience. The trait that was ingrained in him as a child in boarding school, something he now cannot stand. It will be his downfall, the very thing that will inevitably bring him to his knees, and he knows it. Mikael’s been trying to overcome this deadly habit, but with such a strong desire for power and his willingness to prove himself to the Capulets (though not without his own power hungry agenda), his progression towards independence is slow and rather unsteady. Though his obedience at one time had been blind, he’s now beginning to use it against anyone who stands in his way. A true con man, Mikael’s ability to lie in the face of those superior to him has gotten him far. But it’s not far enough for the man who was meant for greatness. He wants the crown to rest upon his head and his alone, and he’s not afraid to do anything it takes to get it. His bad guy image isn’t helped by the fact that he’s completely whipped by his devil of a wife. He’d always dreamed of dancing with the Devil, but he hadn’t pictured the Devil stepping on his toes and getting in his way. But she has this sick, twisted power over him, one that chokes him tighter than his extremely well-tailored Armani suits, one that he initially loved but has quickly turned to despise.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

Of course I cannot wait to plot out Lucrecia and Mikael’s relationship. I think for what it is, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are one of the best duos in literature. Their relationship is complex and it’s dark and it’s dirty and all the things I love to see from killer couples. I hope that Mikael could break the chains from which he’s weighed down.

So I think a really fun plot would just be his descent into madness. I think this was probably my favorite aspect of Macbeth’s story when I originally read it, and I think it’s a central part to his character that’s going to be fun to expand on. He’s got inner demons that he battles day in and day out, and I think writing a character who is so determined to get power but is also held back his struggle with himself is going to be interesting.

And lastly I think his struggle with his position in the mob would probably be one of the main plots I’d develop while writing him, because the Devil isn’t placated unless he’s calling the shots himself and doesn’t have to answer to the so-called “Gods.” Mikael has been trying so diligently to prove himself to the Capulets, doing anything and everything they ask of him, killing anyone who could possibly get in their way in attempts to show himself worthy of a better position. And I feel like Mikael will definitely be plotting different ways to achieve this higher status, through whatever means he deems necessary. ESPECIALLY WITH THE SPADES NOW IM SURE HE’S GONNA TALK WITH THEM AND TRY TO MOVE HIS WAY UP THRU THEM IDK BUT IM EXCITED

In Depth

The following THREE questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would were you playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Mikael could all but hold back his laughter as he sat against the cool metal chair, legs spread distinctly as to exude an air of power. “You call this an interrogation?” He remarked snidely, rubbing his thumb and index finger along his sharp jawline. In all the years he’d been working for the Capulets, Mikael Falco had his fair share of visits to this all too familiar interrogation room. The walls were grey, water dripped from a corner where a dark black circle seemed to expand twice its size each time he’d returned, and there was only a metal table barricading him from the other enemy – the law. He’d spent enough time running from the Montagues that it only aggravated him more when they managed to catch onto his business affairs. And with the wound still healing from the murder of Alvise, many were pointing fingers at Mikael, who hadn’t decided if he was going to use this as an opportunity or shut the rumor mill down. “Everyone knows how I adore The Tempest,” He replied finally, after spending some time analyzing the unfamiliar face scribbling notes before him. “I hear they’ve even taken to engraving my initials into the table I frequent, which of course I said was unnecessary but completely welcome.” He ended this statement with a charming smile, one he’d been perfecting for years, one that satiated any uneasy feelings anyone might of had when interacting with him.

What does your typical day look like?

“First, I’d wake up, and reach over to my wife who I haven’t fucked in ages, hoping to spark any kind of flame that lingered from our younger years, only to be shot down with a shrug of her shoulder when I managed to touch her skin. Then, defeated, I’d get up and get ready, making sure my suit was in perfect condition and everything about my appearance was pristine. The Capulets expect an appearance of superiority, because we are superior. Then, I’d mumble some sort of goodbye to Lucrecia who’d ignore me, leaving my confidence at a low, but that’s besides the point. I’d make my way over to the cathedral, able to smell the irony of our headquarters practically miles. There are no Gods in Verona, not yet at least.” Not until I take over. “Assignments for the day are posted routinely at 8 a.m., and I’m usually less than satisfied by my orders to patrol the shipping docks we use to smuggle our weaponry, but I’d head there with whomever else I’ve been assigned to work with. We’d make all the right small talk, and I’d be lucky if I left work any type of happy. On a good day, I’d be assigned something better, something more… exhilarating. It’s the little tastes of pleasure like getting to off another Montague solider that make me rest easy at night, though I know I can do more. It’s just a matter of time until everyone will witness the extent of my power, and then they’ll either give me the power I deserve, or I’ll pry it from their limp fingers. Then I’d make my way over to The Tempest, where I’d drink my troubles away while listening to some young woman with wide eyes and naive dreams talk to me about God knows what, before returning home. Lucrecia might be there, or not. I’ve come to expect her absence. I’d climb into bed in my drunken haze, and drift off into a slumber.”

“It doesn’t look like much,” He replied, almost too easily. He wasn’t stupid enough to give him any sort of information, not even a white lie was safe in the hands of the law. “I do my job, just like you.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Mikael’s intrigue was spiked by this question, the first that pertained to the very being of who he was, and he sat up almost instinctively. From the outside, the feud between the Capulets and Montagues seemed to be about nothing more than territory and old family rivalries, fickle matters with which Mikael rarely found himself concerned with. Sure, the territory each family claimed for their own indicated a sense of power, but Mikael knew that the real power came from within, and he wasn’t one to get too involved with the affairs of the families from which he didn’t spawn.

“Someone once asked, “War, what is it good for?” and then proceeded to answer “nothing.” Mikael stopped speaking for a moment to laugh quietly before fixing his posture and returning to his calm demeanor. “I pity the fool who believes that sentiment, for war is but a necessary evil for those who desire to conquer. And I… Well I desire nothing less.”

In-Character Para Sample: From the moment he was born, Mikael gravitated towards grandeur in all things he did. The Falco insignia was adorned in gold and blood, though it had not always been this way, as those who had come before him shed blood, sweat, and tears in their efforts to build an empire from the ground up while oppressive forces tried to hold them down.

Tugging tightly on the cuffs of his tailored suit, Mikael carried himself proudly through the streets of Verona, a silk crimson handkerchief peaking out slightly from his front pocket. There was a certain determination in his step as he walked, an image of no particular significance to those who did not know the man. To the untrained eye, he looked just like any other wealthy and power hungry man, but for those who learned to fear the man’s unique tune he whistled as he walked into back alleys, this wasn’t a leisurely walk. Mikael had a destination, a target rather, that he was headed to, one that hadn’t been officially assigned to him.

His lips were pursed tightly and he begun to whistle his tune, shoving his right hand into his pocket, sliding it over the cool metal of his knife. His fingers skimmed over the serrated edges of the blade and made their way to the elegantly carved golden handle. It was his favorite weapon, the one with which he had the most practice with and the one that made a name for himself.

Mikael arrived at a corner and turned it quickly, giving himself but a fleeting moment to glance at the man who was about thirty paces behind him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been followed, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last. Mikael knew that killing him would be clumsy, and that wasn’t his business. But he wanted to send a message, something he was particularly fond of. Sparing people wasn’t something he did often, but he instilled a fear equivalent to the fear of God in those whom he chose to spare, always able to make an impression.

There was a gap between two equally beautiful buildings, and Mikael turned quickly into it while he was certain the man following him hadn’t seen him. He waited against the cool exterior of the building, hand still resting on his knife, the other one flexed open. Hearing shuffled footsteps approaching slowly, Mikael readied himself. The footsteps came closer, and began to slow, and without a moment’s notice, Mikael reached his left arm out from the alley and pulled the man into it by the collar. His grip was tight, and the man grunted as he was thrust harshly into the wall. “I understand you’ve been sent to follow me,” He said in a hauntingly calm demeanor. It took him a moment to notice the man he had in his hand wasn’t much of a man at all, and was more of a boy. Typical Montague behavior. The young boy shook his head in fear, obviously new to the job, and he squirmed underneath Mikael’s grip before he tightened it. “Stop fidgeting, boy.” He spat, looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one was able to see this interaction take place.

“I’m going to give you one try, and I want you to be honest with me, do you understand?” The boy gulped in fear, and nodded his head after a moment of deliberation. “Great. Who sent you?” His question was concise and straight to the point, games were for children and Mikael found himself relatively tired of the games people liked to play. “I’m not going to ask you again,” He threatened, raising his voice and drawing his blade from his pocket. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to have to use this on you,” He said, raising the blade to the boy’s eye level, which he noticed changed the boy’s attitude. “M-M-Matth–” “Matthias. Of course. Now, I want you to tell Matthias that I’m tired of his games, I’m tired of his tactics, and frankly I’m tired of this feud he has with me. Make it very clear to him that the next time he sends someone after me, this knife,” taking this time to slide the cool blade gently across the boy’s cheek, leaving a small nick at his jawline, “Will do more than leave a scratch.”

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here!

#accepted #accepted: macbeth

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