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overheardatthecontinental · 4 years

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The Claim, Chapter 9

After a month-long hiatus from The Claim during Kinktober, I finally managed to update. More to come soon.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26617504/chapters/67036306

Taglist: @greenmanalishi, @cynic-spirit, @fluffyfirewhiskey

There’s a soft sound of a motor when she feels herself come back to the present. Helen blinks awake, still noting the sharp smell of John. She turns her head to the side, to look at John, and she can’t help the small whine that escapes her as she catches sight of her Alpha.

John reaches over and puts a hand on her thigh and squeezes, “We’re almost home, baby. Just a few more minutes.”

Her hips roll involuntarily and she reaches for his hand, dragging it further up her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and guiding it into her ruined panties.

“Alpha, please!” She begs, grinding her pussy against his hand.

Her Alpha swears and she feels the car pick up speed as John carefully rubs her pussy.

The air conditioning is blasting but she still feels on fire, rolling her hips into his hand, desperate for some kind of relief.

“You’re doing so well.” John tells her, and the hand on the steering wheel is white-knuckled as he weaves around a car going too damn slow.

They’re almost home.

He pulls off onto the road that leads to their house and presses the gas down.

“So well, sweet Omega.”

Helen keens, thrusting forward against his fingers, leaning back into the passenger seat as she does. Her pussy clenches and she whimpers.

John pulls into the driveway and rushes towards the house, taking his hand away from her core long enough to hit the button to open the garage.

Helen doesn’t recognize the growl that escapes her as she reaches for his hand to try to tug it back.

John slams the breaks the moment they hit the garage and bursts out of the car. Shakily, Helen manages to hit the release on the seatbelt just as John gets to her door. He wrenches it open and scoops her up out of the car.

Helen rolls in his arms, managing to get her legs around his hips and she wraps the rest of her body around his torso, setting her mouth to his neck.

John rushes through the house and up the stairs but she doesn’t notice. She’s too busy licking and nipping at his gland, wondering what it would be like to bite it. If he would taste as good as he smelled.

She sucks it between her lips, rubbing her wet center on him, uncaring if she stained his suit with her slick.

And then John is kneeling, laying her in the nest she had re-created in his room-- their room just two days before. Thank god for small favors.

Helen rolls her head around the pillows, stroking her hands up her torso. Her shirt feels too heavy and she fumbles with the buttons until John takes over, ripping it open and pushing it off her.

Yes, she thinks, Alphas do have their uses.

John yanks her skirt and panties off in one go and tosses them carelessly to the side. Helen reaches for his belt and John hurries to remove his shirt.

“I had a plan.” John tells her, tossing his shirt. “When the time came, I was going to help you ease into your heat. I was going to take my time,” Helen pulls his belt loose and John kicks off his shoes. “I was going to make you come so many times before it even hit that you would be exhausted when your heat finally came.”

Helen felt her shoulders rolling into the nest as John chucked his pants off toward the bed and crawled on top of her.

“Alpha!” She moaned, spreading her legs and reaching up for him. Helen tangles her hand in his hair and brings his mouth down, forcing it to her neck.

John suckles and nips at her gland and Helen’s hips lift off the ground, even with his weight on top of her.

“Please, Alpha!’

“I’ve got you, love.” He promises, pushing himself up enough that he can easily flip her around to her hands and knees. “Three days,” John muses, his hands now trailing down her stomach and sides, “of your body craving mine. Three days of me inside you…” he leans closer to her to whisper in her ear as his hands landed on her hips, “I wonder if there will be any survivors.”

Helen whimpers and he nips at her ear.

“Are you ready for me, love? Shall I check?”

A hand dips down into her wetness and she feels herself open around two fingers. They turn inside her before she is left empty again.

She turns to look over her shoulder in time to see John bring his fingers to his own mouth. He licks at the shiny wetness and Helen closes her eyes, too overwhelmed to look at him as he contentedly cleans his fingers.

“Your heat tastes like honey.”

And god, she’s getting tired of begging as she moans, “please…”

“Sweet Omega.” He kisses her jaw. “I’m going to do everything to you. I’m going to lick and suck you, make you ride my face until you’re good and spent. And just when you think you can’t take anymore, I’m going to tie you to the bed and make you take more. Gonna fuck you till you’re raw and sore. Gonna fuck you in every room so this entire place smells like sex.”

Her breathing was growing heavy but he wasn’t done teasing her.

“You won’t be able to eat at our table without thinking about how good I feel inside you. You won’t be able to brush your hair by the mirror without thinking about how hard I fucked You while you held onto the sink. And I’m not going to stop until you feel empty without me.”

“Alpha!”

He huffs softly. She can feel his breath on her cheek.

“Okay, love.” He presses another kiss to her jaw. “I’ll give you what you want.”

He moves back and she mourns the warmth of his body, if only for a moment. Because then he is pressing into her. With a sway of his hips, she feels him slip into her slick core.

“Uhhhh.” Helen moans, tilted her head back against his shoulder.

John kisses her neck as he works up a rhythm. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, increasing his speed slightly.

The woozy feeling of her heat began to kick in. Every stroke was like she was floating, her blood seemed like it was on fire.

John’s hands begin to travel up her body, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. Every squeeze makes her feel as if she might explode and Helen buries her face into the edge of the nest.

Just that sweet pressure is enough to make her convulse around him. “Need your knot. Alpha, please.” she begs, reaching down to move John’s hand up to her chest.

She squeezes his hand with hers, forcing his fingers to dig into her swollen breasts.

John groans behind her and Helen gasps as she feels him start to grow inside her. His cock is thickening and forming the knot that her body so desperately craves. John rocks into her as it builds and a hand reaches down from her breasts, trailing her stomach, and stops at her clit.

Helen jumps at the contact and John whispers to her, “Look at you. Taking my knot so well.”

She tries to respond but words no longer can form in her mind. All that comes out is a desperate moan, a needy whimper as John continues to rock against her.

Again, he’s talking to her, whispering praises in her ears. But much like the words she seeks to tell him, she can’t force herself to concentrate hard enough to actually listen to what he’s saying.

Normally, Helen hates the way her brain dissolves like cotton candy whenever her heat comes around but she can’t bring herself to care. Not when John feels so fucking good, his knot keeping him locked around her, forcing his thrusts to become shallow.

She’s never felt so full in all her life.

John rocks his palm against her clit and she cries out. It feels so good but something is missing. Something she needs and she tries to clear her mind of the fog long enough to tell him, “Mark me, Alpha.”

John hisses in her ear.

“Please, Alpha, bite me.”

He speeds the movement of his palm as he kisses her neck. “Come for me, Omega.”

John rubs her clit just right and she floods around him, a shriek leaving her body and turning into a scream as John’s teeth sinks into her throat. Her lips are quaking, stuttering wordlessly as she feels John start to come inside of her.

She clenches around his knot, breathing heavily as she revels in the feral way that John is marking her neck. He bites down again, still rubbing his palm against her clit and her head leans back against him as she feels that delightful pressure inside of her burst.

Her head feels light and soon, the only thing keeping her from falling is John’s grip on her. He rises to his knees, pulling her along with him, still reamed with his cock. His teeth still tearing apart her mating gland.

His arms are wrapped around her and Helen feels the clouds start to part as she blinks back into reality. A long breath exhales and she looks back to John, eyes still lidded.

John moves his hand from her chest to her head, turning her towards him. He kisses her temple before carefully lowering them back to the nest.

His knot is still swollen inside her and he does his best to maneuver her to a position where he can see her face, propping slightly above her.

“Are you okay?” John asks, delicately touching her face.

Helen opens her mouth to respond and nothing comes out.

She had no regrets about John, about having him take her on her heat and marking her for the world to see but… fuck.

This was not her choice. Cavanaugh had drugged her; poisoned her. Had taken away her choices, her dignity.

And John, sweet John, is asking if she’s okay and she doesn’t know how to fucking respond to that.

"I killed Cavanaugh.”

"You saved yourself, sweetheart. You did what you had to do.”

“I killed him at the school.” Anger has turned quickly to fear. “I killed him in a public place. People are going to find the body and know that I killed him. I’m going to be found out and…”

John puts two fingers against her new mark and a wave of calm rushes over her.

“The body should already have been taken care of.” John tells her, “Nicky called Hasani to take care of it.”

“It’s at the school, John!”

“And Hasani is good at what he does. Trust me, no one is going to know what happened to Cavanaugh. Or that you were involved.”

“But we both disappeared from the school.”

“Nicky will take care of it. He’ll tell them whatever he needs to about Cavanaugh and the truth about you. Your heat came on early so you called your Alpha to come pick you up. No one will know the events are connected.”

Helen nods and a sigh escapes her. “Fuck…”

John pushes her hair back behind her ear. “You did so well, sweetheart. In more ways than one.”

She tucks her head against John’s shoulder and breathes in his scent.

“How long between waves?” John asks.

“Four hours at onset. Fifteen minutes at peak.” Helen shakes her head, “But that’s when it sets in naturally. With whatever drugs he gave me, it could be less. I’ve never had a heat hit like that before.”

“When the worst of it has passed, I want to call a doctor. Someone I know from work, just to check on you. Make sure no lasting damage was caused.”

She nods in agreement. “Okay.”

She wonders if her voice sounds as small as she feels.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She didn’t need candles or wine or crazy preparations but she was supposed to have time. Some warning to give her time to get ready.

Cavanaugh had taken that from her.

And she had taken his life.

She shivers and John holds her tighter.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” John murmurs.

Helen glances up at him. “I don’t even want to imagine what it would have been like to get through that without you.”

That was true. For years, she had gotten through heats with help from toys but had left every wave feeling like she wanted to die. And that wave was the most intense thing she had ever experienced but her body felt more relaxed than it had any right to, considering the trauma it had undergone in the span of a few hours.

“Thank you for sedating me.”

John lets out a small laugh, “Never thought I’d hear those words.”

“Never thought I’d need to be sedated to make it an hour in a car.” She shakes her head incredulously. “Un-fucking-real.”

“I know, baby.” John says, “Do you… want to talk about what happened?”

“I was stupid.” She replies, glancing up at him. “He was in the teacher’s lounge when I got there. Every instinct I had told me to leave, to go to my classroom but I told myself I was being irrational. He was making himself a coffee when I went in and offered me one. I accepted. I shouldn’t have but…”

“You couldn’t have predicted he would do that. Especially at school, the risk he took to himself was monumental.”

“He wanted to mate me before you could.” She touches the spot where John had marked her and shudders, “The details… are hazy. I don’t even remember calling you.”

“You set off the SOS.” His hand reaches to the chain that hangs between her breasts.

“Yes.” She vaguely remembers the dizziness and Cavanaugh looking smug.

“Nicky was the one to actually call me.” He smirks, almost to himself, “Whoever would have thought that I’d owe a debt to a D’Antonio?”

“Technically, he’s a Kareen.”

“Never owed a Kareen, either.” John says, “But I’ll forever be grateful for them and what they did today.”

Helen buries her head in his neck and closes her eyes. She was also grateful for what they had done for her but the humiliation still burned in the pit of her stomach. That Nicky had seen her like that… even having John see her like that was horrible.

The saving grace was that none of her students had seen her.

“I wish I could kill him again.” She murmurs.

“Me too.” John says and she feels a twitch of his lips. “The pencil was a nice touch.”

She snorts, “It was all I could find.”

“I wish I could put into words how proud I am of you.” His arm tightens around her middle. “It kills me that I wasn’t there to protect you when you needed it, but my god, am I proud of you.”

“I shouldn’t have taken the coffee. I should have listened to my instincts and…”

Her head is tilted up, forcing her to look at John, “Hey, this is not your fault. Not in any way.”

“You would have listened to your instincts.”

“I’m a paranoid bastard. Hels, you were literally poisoned and you kept your head. You saved yourself and got help. You did perfectly.”

She nods.

It really could have been worse, she thinks. Had she not acted quickly…

The idea of being forcibly mated to Cavanaugh had her nauseous and utterly disgusted. She tries not to linger too much on the possibility. That was something to process when her brain wasn’t scrambled.

She feels John start to deflate inside of her and tries not to mourn the loss. She’ll have his knot again soon enough.

John slips out of her and he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to make a call,” he says, ““See if Louis can run and pick up some protein bars and gatorade.”

He starts to sit up but her arm shoots out before she can even recognize what she is doing.

Her breathing has picked up, her heart rate spiking.

John quickly pulls her onto his lap, rubbing his thumb over her mark. “I’m sorry, love.” He whispers, an arm wrapped around her in a hug, “I should have thought…”

Helen shakes her head, “No, I’m sorry. I’m still a little on edge.”

“Of course you are.” John tightens his grip and rolls to a kneeling position and then to his feet, carrying her with him. “Between waves or not, you’re still in heat. I promise I won’t leave you.”

“You can put me down. I’m sorry, I just got a little panicky.”

“I don’t want to put you down.” He says, reaching for his pants. He grabs the cell phone from his pocket and sits down on the bed, holding Helen close to him.

“Really, John, it’s okay.” She laughs softly as she slips off his lap and goes to find John’s bathrobe. It reaches the floor when she drapes it over her shoulders but she doesn’t mind. It smells like him and it’s soft.

“Is there anything else you can think you’ll need?” John calls.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good.” She typically had protein bars and some kind of off-brand beverage with electrolytes to keep her hydrated and able to keep going.

Hell, she had never had a heat where she had the privilege of soft, new blankets and actual nesting materials. Or a cock that wasn’t synthetic and battery-operated.

Had this happened two weeks later, she would have been thrilled. As it were, it still was better than all her past heats.

Helen tilts her head, looking in the mirror. John's teeth had broken the skin around her mating gland, turning the base of her neck a delicate, soft purple. She is marked; something she never expected to see.

If someone had asked her, even a week ago, if she would ever see such a mark on herself, she would have insisted no.

She gently touches it, noting the slight raised skin.

Mated.

It seemed unreal.

All in all, it wasn’t that fast. She knew plenty of Omega/Alpha couples who had mated after a matter of hours. The idea of a three week courtship, while initially her best move when playing a complex game of chess with John Wick, was considered to be excessive. But John had agreed, because that was who he was.

But she had been alone for so long, anything less was too much.

Yet here she stood, not even a week later, mated, marked and claimed.

She swallows, idly hearing John list off things to Louis.

His voice calms her from the rush of hormones flowing through her.

She wonders if every heat with an Alpha is like this or if it’s just a side effect from whatever Cavanaugh had slipped her.

Even now, she was shaky. Her hands couldn’t seem to still and, while the rush of the heat had passed, her heart was still hammering away in her chest. Her muscles felt tense.

Helen puts her hands out on the sink, bracing herself while she tries to control her breathing.

Four seconds, breathe in. Four seconds, hold. Four seconds, breathe out.

She repeats it four times but her heart is still pounding. She still feels uneasy.

On edge.

She is mated but it isn’t that simple.

She is mated because Cavanaugh put her into this position.

And yes, she wanted to mate John. And she wasn’t upset that he had bitten her when she had asked him to but it should have been a conversation. Not a desperate moment where she felt herself spiraling out of control.

John had marked her.

But she hadn’t marked him.

Her skin feels almost like it’s crawling, with fear and frustration and a thousand other things that a part of her knew were irrational. So why did she still feel like she was losing her mind over the fact that she hadn’t marked John?

He would let her, wouldn’t he?

He loved her.

She knew he did.

Right?

Fuck, why was she doubting things that she knew to be true this morning?

Helen puts her hand to her forehead, as if it would ease the tension. It doesn’t. Her breathing is picking up again and this, she knows, isn’t normal. This isn’t the typical let down that follows a heat.

She doesn’t notice John until his arms are already wrapped around her.

He pulls her to his chest and she hears words falling from his mouth but they don’t fully register in her mind.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m here. Deep breaths, baby.”

Deep breaths? Is she not breathing?

She feels a little unstable. Is she still on her feet?

She can’t quite tell.

John puts a hand on her chin and forces her to look up at him and he breathes hard, exaggerating each breath for her to follow as his fingers run circles on her neck.

“Hey,” John says softly, “Are you here with me?”

Fuck. Helen stutters on an inhale but nods.

“I’m so sorry--”

“I walked away.” Helen shakes her head, “And it’s not the heat. At least, I don’t think so.”

“The drugs?” John asks.

“Yeah.” She can feel the tension holding her body hostage, even though her mind has cleared from the onset of panic.

“Talk to me.” John whispers, pushing her hair back from her face.

Again, she shakes her head, “Just got overwhelmed. I still feel… I don’t know. Paranoid?”

“You were drugged, against your will. I wanted to wait until your heat had pushed through but maybe I should call the doctor now.”

She didn’t want to see the doctor, or anyone, while she was under the influence of her heat but he might be right.

John made a call to a doctor and another to Hasani, calling in a favor for the other assassin to raid Cavanaugh’s office to figure out what the hell he had used on Helen.

“It’s called Caloremite. It’s a cheaper substitute for what doctor’s use to induce heats in Omega’s going through a dry spell.”

John had looked it up while they waited for the doctor to arrive and with every word he read, he seemed to get angrier.

It was no longer on the market in the United States, having been banned for severe side effects.

Loss of control.

Dizziness.

Insomnia.

Paranoia.

In several instances, suicidal ideation.

“I wanted to kill him before, but now…” John muttered, before looking over at her, “Are you feeling any of those?”

“The first is inevitable. And… I think the paranoia.”

“Oh?”

Helen shrugs, “A bit. I don’t know.”

“Hels.”

“It’s stupid.” She admits, “I just, I keep having these moments of self-doubt and fear that you’re going to change your mind.”

“Change my mind about what?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“I-- about me.”

“What about you?”

She flushes, “That, I don’t know, that you wouldn’t want me anymore.” He opens his mouth to protest but she holds up a hand, “And I know, I know, that it is stupid and irrational but I keep thinking that maybe I’m not worth all this trouble. Or that, maybe, you just wanted me because I was a challenge and now that you’ve marked me, you could just walk away and…”

“No.” There is authority in that tone and it makes her tense up again, but then his voice softens, “Sweetheart…”

“I know it’s stupid.”

“You’re, for lack of a better term, under the influence. There’s nothing stupid about the paranoia this is causing you. Even if those thoughts are dead wrong.” He tilts her face up again, “You are the only thing in my life that I give a damn about, Hels. You are everything to me.”

She nods, rubbing her face against his hand. “Yeah. Yeah.” She repeats, “I know that. Rationally.”

“But irrationally, it’s hard.” John’s free hand grips the mattress, squeezing hard. “I’m so proud of you for killing him, but I think I will always be a little pissed that it wasn’t me to end his life.”

Helen snorts and John kisses her head, adoringly.

“Yeah. And I know that, eventually, this bullshit is going to wear off. I just hate feeling like this.”

“What can I do? How can I make this better?” There’s a desperation in his tone, “I’ll do anything, Helen.”

And she is overwhelmed by just how much she adores this man. Her mate. Her partner.

Her eyes glance, of their own accord, to his neck. Possessively.

She doesn’t say anything and almost hopes that he doesn’t notice where her desires directed her. But he does.

John brings his face to hers, kissing her softly. He backs her up, back to the nest and he carefully lowers them both to the ground, with John under her.

Wordlessly, John lifts his chin, baring his neck.

Helen swallows at the silent offering. “Are you sure?”

Because, legally, all that mattered was the Alpha’s mark on the Omega. An Omega claiming back their Alpha was a divisive topic.

Half the population seemed to agree that an Omega claiming their Alpha was a sign of growing equality, bridging the gap to allow Omega’s rights of existence. Others, more traditionalists, found it to be a display of weakness in the Alpha to allow themselves to be marked as such.

While John certainly believed in Omega’s rights, he worked in a world that valued power and position.

Hasani wore no mark and he adored Nicky to death.

But here was John, the Alpha of Alphas, ready to take her mark.

“I claimed you that first day.” John says softly, “But I was yours the moment you walked into that room.”

She wastes no time, launching herself into him, her mouth automatically finding the sensitive gland.

She kisses it, open-mouthed. Licking and sucking at his neck as John pushes his bathrobe off her shoulders and to the side.

She straddles him, rocking her body into his.

His cock hardens underneath her weight as she sucks at his neck and she reaches between them. He hisses in pleasure as she wraps her hand around his length, gently dragging her hand up and down until he is like rock under her fingers.

She is still soaked with slick, even if the heat has died down, and she guides him to her warm opening. Easily, she slips him back inside her and descends her hips into his until they are met at the center.

Helen watches as John’s fists turn white at the knuckles as he struggles to keep control of himself, to let her take charge of this moment.

She rides him, rolling her hips against his as she continues to tease his neck until he is a swearing, groaning mess.

“Fuck, Hels!” He swears, “Not going to last if you keep--! Fuck!”

Helen squeezes around him, but thinks the same thought. She is still so sensitive from the first round of heat, she already feels like she might come undone at any moment.

She bounces on him, hands roaming his open chest, feeling his hard body quake with need. Helen waits, until John is on edge, before she bites down on his neck, piercing the gland with her teeth. She sucks at the spot, grazing it along her mouth, doing everything in her power to enlarge the mark that will let the world know that John Wick is not only taken, but he is hers.

He lets out the closest thing to a whine that she has ever heard from John as her teeth graze at the tender spot before she feels his cum coating her insides. The sensation is enough to make her come undone around him, her pussy clenching around him, milking him dry as she licks at his neck.

Her Alpha.

As she lets up, moving her mouth from his neck, John grabs her by her hair and forces her head back up to his, kissing her hard. Bruising her lips deliciously.

She has claimed him, entirely, and it gives her a dark, almost twisted pleasure that John Wick has been marked as hers. He will never know another the way he does her.

Her arms twist around him and she buries her face in the crook of his neck, just to the right of where she had bitten him.

She breathes in his heavy scent as John strokes her head. His cock remains buried inside of her even as it softens.

They remain like that, entirely entwined, until the doorbell rings.

“Doc.” John says, untangling them from one another. He manages to get a grip on his Omega and lifts her with him as he stands and carries her to the bed. He quickly finds himself a pair of sweatpants before disappearing into their closet to find Helen something light and airy to wear.

The tank top and cotton shorts he chooses are thin but the fabric still scratches at her skin.

“Do you want me to bring him up here or would you like to go downstairs to meet with him?”

“Down.” Helen says, glancing at the state of their bedroom. The nest in a frenzy, their clothes tossed all about. The distinct scent of sex that permiated the air.

She tries to walk but after fifteen steps, Helen finds herself braced against the wall, the dizziness hitting her again.

The Doctor is a small, elderly Asian man with kind eyes. He greets John with familiarity that Helen worries is from John’s many scars.

“Were you able to find out what it was she was drugged with?” The Doctor asks John.

“Caloremite was written on the bottle, according to Nicolo D’Antonio, but it was written by hand. No actual label..”

The Doctor hums, “Potent stuff. I don’t suppose you know when it was made?”

John shakes his head, “No.”

Doc looks over to Helen, “I know it may be hard to remember, but what can you tell me about the immediate effects?”

She’s embarrassed with how little she can recall but she tries her best. “I think I started to feel a bit warm, but I thought it was anger. I honestly didn’t realize anything was off until I tried to stand up and was hit by a wave of vertigo.”

“That was one of the main complaints with the initial release of the drug.” The Doctor tells her, “Many found that it induced heat almost too well.”

“What do you mean?”

“During and before heats, your body is adjusting. It’s preparing to be able to bear children so your hormones change. Rates of estrogen and progesterone increase. It’s the reasons so many Omega’s suffer from sickness early in pregnancies, as the hormonal levels continue to increase. Under the influence of Caloremite, they increase much faster. Almost flooding the body. Normally, this happens over a span of a week before heat even hits, letting your body naturally get used to it. Without that time, however, your body is suffering from a dramatic increase. That’s what causes the dizziness. In some cases, it can cause insomnia, nausea, paranoia…” The Doctor drones on but Helen suddenly feels lightheaded. And it wasn’t from moving.

Somehow, in the panic of being drugged and the paranoia of the aftermath, the most obvious thing of all had slipped her mind.

Her heat was the only time that she could get pregnant.

And they hadn’t used protection.

For a moment, she is frozen. Then she looks at John.

He looks shell-shocked and it's enough to almost make her laugh; knowing that he has come to the same conclusion that she has.

He blinks and looks at her, swallowing as he does.

“I didn’t even think…” He says softly.

She shakes her head, “It all happened so quickly.”

“I’m sorry?” Doc asks, looking between them.

“Uh,” Helen tucks her hair back, “We weren’t expecting my heat.”

“I gathered that.”

“So, we weren’t,” she clears her throat. He is, after all, a doctor. “We weren’t prepared. We didn’t use protection.”

“Ah.” The Doctor says, “Yes. Well, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway, even if you had used some form of protection. Caloremite was once used for increasing fertility. If you’ve already…” the Doc clears his throat, “consummated, then it’s likely that you may have already conceived.”

A thousand thoughts flew through Helen’s head, the first of which being so much for time together.

She had wanted more time with John before kids came into the picture but it seemed that was thought long gone.

Fuck.

Helen glances over at John.

He hadn’t moved since the Doc started explaining.

“I think you broke him.” Helen tells the Doctor, snapping her fingers in front of John’s face.

He blinks.

“There you are.” She says.

“Do you need a tranquilizer, Mister Wick?” The Doctor asks and Helen nearly loses it.

“No.” John says, “Sorry.”

“I understand this entire situation came as a bit of a shock.” He looks at Helen, “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still functioning at this level of awareness given the potency of Caloremite. There is a reason it was taken off the market.”

“You mentioned trying to figure out when it was made. Would that have anything to do with the strength of it?” Helen asks.

“Yes. Typically, most drugs expire after a year or so. They lose their strength and are not advised to be taken after that time. And Caloremite hasn’t been on the market in the United States in at least five years. So either your attacker bought it outside of the US or he gave you a dose of an older drug.”

“If it were an older drug,” Helen tries to piece it all together in her mind, “Would the fertility still be increased?”

“Unfortunately, I’m not an expert in this kind of medication or Omega health. I couldn’t say anything for sure, but your fertility will already be increased just from having your heat induced. And I’m reluctant to give you any hormonal-based prophylactic for the remainder without knowing, for sure, more information about the drug you were given.”

“It could harm her?” John asks sharply.

“I don’t know enough to be sure.” The Doctor says, “And, right now, we’re operating under the assumption that the drug Helen was given was pure Caloremite. It’s very possible that it could have been mixed with any number of other drugs, especially if there was no label or prescription.”

John looks at her, “I’m not taking any risks when it comes to your health.”

“Agreed.” She looks back to the Doctor. “Would there be a way to test if it was laced with anything?”

“I would like to take a blood test from you. I can drop the test off at the labs on my way back to the Continental and put a rush on the results. Unfortunately, there are many things we can’t screen for.”

John nods and the Doctor opens his medical bag, preparing a blood kit.

“Aside from the dizziness, have you experienced any other symptoms not typically associated with heat?” Doc asks as he wraps a rub strap around Helen’s bicep.

“Some paranoia.” She admits, “But nothing else. At least, not yet.”

He nods, “Hopefully, that will be it. If you do experience anything, I want you to make sure Mister Wick calls me.”

“Okay.”

“Make a fist, now.”

Helen does and ignores the sharp instant of pain as the needle sinks into her skin.

John squeezes her other hand and, she wonders, for a moment if this is harder for him than it is for her.

Doc waits as a vial fills up with blood.

“Keep her hydrated.” The Doc tells Wick, “And well-fed. Even once the heat passes, she may be weak for a few days. I’m hoping to know more once we get the results back.”

“I will.” John tells him.

When the vial is full, the Doc packs up. Offering goodbyes and pleasantries, and a promise to rush the results of her tests.

John walks him to the door and Helen curls her legs underneath her, leaning back into the arm of the couch. A hand absently goes to her belly.

Mixed feelings fly through her.

The white-hot rage, directed at Cavanaugh. The fear that had she not killed him, he would have managed to take her, forcibly mark her, and impregnate her. The thought made her want to vomit.

There was fear that, despite everything, John would panic if she were pregnant. They hadn’t planned for this. They wouldn’t have planned for this. Not yet.

Not for a long time.

But that decision now felt out of their hands.

And if she wasn’t already pregnant, there was a possibility that she soon would be. She was still at day one of her heat. And hormonal protection was the only kind that worked against an Alpha and she couldn’t risk using it with whatever cocktail of drugs was still running through her system.

“He’s gone.” John says, settling next to her on the couch.

She hadn’t even heard him come back in.

“Can I get you something to eat?”

Helen shakes her head.

“Something small?” He prompts. “Please?”

The corner of her mouth tips, “Okay.”

“What do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

At her lackluster response, John moves closer to her. “Talk to me.” He whispers.

“We’re in over our heads.”

He nods, “Probably. But I always work best when I’m in over my head.”

Again, she cracks a smile, looking over at him. “I’m scared, John.”

“Me too.” He admits.

“There’s just so much uncertainty. I could be on any sort of cocktail of drugs right now. I could be pregnant right now. We don’t know how long this poison is going to last and…” She stops, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

“I know.” John places his hand over hers, “But whatever happens, whatever comes, we’re going to face it. Together.”

#john wick #helen wick #john wick x helen wick #helen x john wick #overheard at the continental #incorrect john wick #alpha! john wick #omega! helen wick #abo #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/omega #the matrix has queue

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ashortdropandasuddenstop · 4 years

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Full hiatus back on

Since the news my move was delayed, ive been in a terrible funk and depressed, so I’ve had no muse sadly. But i got some good news today about my house and i feel like i should just wait till im done moving before coming back here. So expect more from me after ive moved which should be soon.

sorry guys and thanks for putting up with me.

#out of wig

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fumusdamnatorum · 4 years

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OC Positivity 2

((See previous post for the backstory/ground rule))

1. @hopeandharmonizing- Holy shit, Briar is probably the first muse that both mun and muse fell (and feel) hard for. We both dropped like a bag of bricks, and to be honest, we didn’t know we needed a goth mom gf till now. Seriously, the first impression was that good. Jokes aside, Rachel is awesome, and is someone who absolutely challenges me as a writer, especially with how Briar is written. I can only look forward to what would come from the threads we write.

2. @litliwolf/ @serpentinehunter - Tick is the best wooper mun this side of FNDM and no one can tell me otherwise. Skadi is amazing and equally if not infinitely more adorable. She really helped Silas develop that caring/nurturing side of the character that I’m surprised he had to begin with, to be honest. While I haven’t gotten much time with Aston, Tick is always fun to write with. Hopefully, best cinnamon roll named Skadi comes back soon! 3. @lion-of-vale- Number 2 in regards to who I ship with Kemuri (Onyx is number 1), BUT God Emperor of Vale is one of the larger than life characters (literally) that I’ve had the pleasure of reading on the dash. Mun does a great job writing him, and in turn, I appreciate how much love Oct gets. Maybe something will get me to write Silas into a thread soon, but only time will tell.

4. @strykingback- While Aeneas scares me for the sheer volume of world-building and muse-building he does, Justice scares me for the sheer speed of world-building and muse-building he does. Don’t get me wrong, it’s absolutely awe-inspring in a good way, and seeing Louvel’s shenanigans and more of his muses interact within and outside of fandom is always good fun!

5. @teamoliv- Mun came off a hiatus swinging with a full on retcon, so I’m looking forward to writing lmao. Jokes aside though, there’s a lot of care and attention to how OLIV is handled, and their interactions. Not only that, but also their interactions within the blog also puts it in the same vein as a mini RWBY spin off of sorts, and I dig it. Lapis/Blake 5ever

6. @teamvnla- Mun is also another of those few writers that also does art for their OCs. Van and Lye are probably my favorite OC siblings if not one of my favorites. Haven’t had a chance to write with them yet BUT I should probably make due on getting Silas to interact with Lye, who is a qt patootie from what i can tell. Van/Blake is second to Lapis/Blake for me unfortunately.

7. @expanding-infinity- So like, Gods amirite? I’m kidding. Mun is a cool dood. Unfortunately, I hit a roadblock with interactions cause the scale of how Arctic is versus how Silas is monumentally different. Sooner or later, something may come to me, but for now I am more than content with watching the greater powers that be deal with life/boredom.

8. @eglantinex- the first/original OC that I’ve interacted with as Silas from the “smokingsilas” days. Incidentally enough, Gen became Silas’s first teammate and first ship partner/girlfriend/wife. She became an extremely important foundation for Silas, and in turn, the mun and I are still currently dating lmao, even if she doesn’t really write all that much. It is what it is though. One day she’ll come back but who knows?

9. @celestiumsoul- Asta is one of the sweetest OCs to have welcomed Silas back, I think, right at the beginning of vol 7. I’m glad I had the pleasure of writing with Amii at a time where I kinda felt nervous/vulnerable with writing again, cause this is more or less my make or break. I hope she comes back eventually, but still an OC and writer I greatly respect.

10. @hiddenferocity- We still don’t have a thread lmao. BUT, but I think the mun seems like a pretty chill person, and I’ve had my fair share of reading Zephyr’s threads on the dash. Hell, I even gotten to take a crack at writing a prose about him. Seems like he and Silas would hit it off well, but who knows? Zephyr/Blake is number 3 on the OC/Blake ship list I personally have lol.

#ooc #munday

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valhallanrose · 4 years

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Peachy Keen

5,079 words

A letter from an old friend sends Miriyam back to Prakra and down beneath her streets, into a familiar world of burlesque and bloodshed.

Peachy Keen takes place approximately a year after the bargain struck in Court of Swords. CoS is not necessary to understand this piece, but I’m using it to establish a timeline for Miriyam’s story.

Court of Swords can be found here.

Miriyam’s burlesque routine can be found here.

CW for implications of assault and violence. Some not safe for work content ahead, but not graphic.

Parts of Prakra were illustrious, all shining marble and high towers that breached the clouds far overhead. At night, when the moon hung heavy and full overhead, its light would illuminate the mist on the canals with a sort of ethereal glow that clung to the gondolas that passed through them.

Miriyam preferred the darker underbelly, raucous in comparison to the gentle quiet of the streets overhead. She felt at home among the warm red glow of the lanterns and the scent of smoke thick in the air, blending easily among the gamblers and the drinkers and the rest of those with less savory habits.

She found herself tucked away in a corner of a bar that night, cigarette burning low between her lips and an empty flagon set before her on the table. Her mind was elsewhere as she tugged the letter from her pocket, skimming through it between glances up toward the door. The page was well worn and heavily creased, as if she’d opened and closed it a thousand times before despite the simple message.

* * * * *

Miriyam,

I know it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, but I find I’ve been reminiscing lately. I implore you, come to Prakra as soon as you can. I’ll wait for you in our favorite haunt beneath the theater. I’d love for you to buy me a bottle of Golden Goose.

Anika

* * * * *

Unassuming as it was, Miriyam had dropped everything and raced back to Prakra nearly as soon as this letter was in her hand.

Anika had been her lover, years ago, but the two had wanted different things from their relationship: one wanted to move forward, and the other was content where they were. So they split semi-amicably, and before she left, Miriyam had offered a balm for them both - should Anika ever need her, ask for a bottle of Golden Goose.

It seemed silly at the time, but Miriyam had still been working for Adelram, and she was afraid of their letter being intercepted by prying eyes - and neither of them could reasonably afford it at the time, anyway. She swore she would come as quick as she could, no matter the cost or reason, but she hadn’t heard from Anika since.

And for Anika to use that now, after all this time...it make Miriyam’s stomach clench to think she was in any sort of danger.

When Miriyam looked up again, she caught the door easing open, and an indescribable feeling crept down her spine as she caught the familiar shade of emerald green, the lilies woven into the braid that was pulled over the woman’s shoulder.

She watched those wide brown eyes flick over the patrons in the bar, the way she pulled her cloak a little tighter, and felt her heart leap up into her throat before Miriyam managed to shove herself out of her chair to wave Anika closer.

Gods, she hadn’t changed a bit.

Anika’s eyes landed on her, narrowing slightly before recognition flashed beneath her lashes. Miriyam was hardly out of her seat before Anika rushed her, throwing her arms around the taller woman and burying her face in her chest with a trembling sigh of relief.

“You really came.” Anika whispered, voice trembling as Miriyam’s arms fell around her shoulders and pulled her in close. “I thought you would have forgotten.”

“There are a lot of things wrong with me, but my memory isn’t one.” Miriyam teased gently, earning a quiet laugh from Anika before the two eventually settled back into the booth. She reached out, clasping Miriyam’s hand tightly in both of her own as the silver haired woman put out her cigarette with the other. “Tell me, Anika, what’s going on?”

Anika shrugged, stroking her thumbs over Miriyam’s gloved knuckles and refusing to meet her eye. “What if I just want to catch up? It’s been so long, after all…did you do something different with your hair?”

Miriyam sighed, reaching out and gently tipping Anika’s chin up with the side of her hand. She wasn’t surprised to see the tears welling up in Anika’s eyes, but she shifted her hand anyway, letting Anika lean her cheek against her palm as she spoke.

“Anika, there was a time I knew you better than I knew myself. I’d like to think you haven’t changed that much in six years.”

The green haired woman laughed and closed her eyes, a few tears dampening Miriyam’s palm before she wiped them away. “Yeah, you always did see through me. One of the things I loved about you, you know.” She sighed heavily before she continued, squeezing Miriyam’s hand lightly. “You...you remember my place, right?”

“Dove and Orchid? Yeah, I remember, you worked your ass off getting that thing off the ground. It’s doing alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s doing alright. Great, actually, up until recently.” Anika straightened, rolling her lip between her teeth. “I, um...Miri, someone’s hurting my girls.”

That caught Miriyam’s attention.

Dove and Orchid was a dancer’s club, built for more...promiscuous entertainment than some preferred. Anika hadn’t cared - she was the first performer at Dove and Orchid and had done everything she could to create an environment that was comfortable for patrons and dancers. As far as Miriyam understood, that was the reason for Anika’s success. She treated every dancer like her family, made sure they felt safe and secure so long as they were under her employ.

And that’s how she knew it broke Anika’s heart to think anyone would hurt any of her dancers.

“I don’t know who, but apparently it’s been happening for a few weeks - one of them came to me just a few nights ago and told me a man she didn’t recognize broke into her dressing room after her performance. He…” Tears began to fall hotly down Anika’s cheeks again as she spoke. “I tried to ask the city guard to come, post someone to keep them safe, but the one I spoke to told me they were asking for it and just laughed me off. Four of my girls have been attacked, Miri, and nobody will help us. I don’t know what to do, or who else to turn to, and I know you have every right to go back to wherever you came from - ”

Miriyam hushed her carefully, taking both of her hands and grasping them tightly as Anika tried to catch her breath. “Hey, hey, Anika - I’m not going anywhere. I told you a long time ago that if you ever needed me, I would help you, no matter what. Nothing will keep me from that now, you understand?”

Anika nodded slowly before she lowered her head, bringing Miriyam’s hands to her mouth and pressing a shaky kiss to her knuckles. There were no words needed - the gratitude cascaded off Anika in waves as the two sat in comfortable silence.

* * * * *

Several weeks had gone by since Anika’s initial approach, the pair having decided the best approach would be to bring Miriyam in as a dancer to keep her from any suspicions. Her tattoos and scars could be easily hidden - Anika was an adept illusionist - but they had to bring her up to speed on the aspect of performance.

And by the gods, Miriyam had never been more grateful for the grueling training she had undergone to gain her flexibility and endurance.

Dawn till dusk, she found herself in the rehearsal space, all while the club remained on a temporary hiatus. Anika had loosened just the right set of pipes to flood the space enough for some renovation to occur, buying them enough time to build Miriyam’s cover.

The night before the Dove and Orchid was set to reopen, Anika approached with a bottle and a pair of champagne flutes, their voices low as Miriyam let her tug and lace up parts of her costume between sips of the sparking liquid.

“So...you still need a stage name.” Anika mused, deft hands lacing up the skirt at Miriyam’s hip.

The silver haired woman snorted, arching a brow and glancing down at the other. “You were serious about that?”

“As the grave.” Anika playfully smacked Miriyam’s hip before retrieving her champagne flute. “Some of the girls have been tossing them around. They seem to like ‘Silver Fox’ for you.”

Miriyam groaned and laughed, her head falling back so she could look up at the intricately painted ceiling. “Dear gods, that’s awful. Please tell me that’s not what I’m going under, I might just leave the country.”

With a soft giggle, Anika shook her head, refilling their flutes before she answered. “Thankfully, no, but I am taking one of their other suggestions. You know how you always hunt down peaches for breakfast?”

“Breakfast without fruit is poor breakfast indeed.” Miriyam shrugged, leaning into her hip as she watched Anika drop into one of the armchairs. “What about it?”

Anika raised her glass, as if in toast, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. “Welcome to the Dove and Orchid, my dear Peachy Keen.”

Anika took a long swig of her champagne, leaving Miriyam to ponder the name for a long moment. Golden gaze fixed on the wall, one hand ran down her side, smoothing over the intricate embroidery and the pearl beading. She pulled at one of the thigh high stockings before closing her eyes, heaving a deep sigh and emitting a single word in response.

“Fuck.”

* * * * *

It took about two weeks before any real changes occurred.

When the Dove and Orchid reopened, business had been a little slow as the word spread. It took perhaps a week for all the seats to fill again, another three days for even standing room to be hard to come by.

Miriyam spent her nights rotating between dancers, one night on stage followed by another night on the floor as a waitress of sorts to get a handle on the crowd. Whenever she wasn’t on the floor, she was backstage with Anika, eagle eye watching over the dancers as they moved about the building.

But the nights on the stage…

She hadn’t ever considered burlesque as an option for herself. She didn’t believe herself to be an exhibitionist, and the idea of anyone she knew finding out was fairly mortifying, but there was a different sort of thrill she got from being up under the warm glow of the lanterns as her body moved to the thrumming music that filled the hall. It was easy to separate her nerves by viewing her body as a tool, another in her arsenal, as a means to an end - it made it easy to lose the self-consciousness that came from stripping down on stage.

Despite the fact that she was technically on a job? She had a fucking blast.

But the job always came first. Early on she’d spoken to each of the girls, getting details from each about the man they had seen, sketching face after face until she finally got one all four agreed upon. She knew who she was looking for, was always on the lookout, but that two week mark was the true beginning of the hunt.

It started small - the hair on the back of her neck rising at the feeling of someone lingering beyond her peripheral, things moved around in her dressing room, pieces of her costumes going missing. It was irritating and - though she’d never admit it - nerve-wracking, but she could do nothing until they showed themselves. Too soon, and she might scare them off completely. All she could do was wait and be wary, wait and watch for the inevitable slip of the man who cast a long shadow over the Dove and Orchid.

And slip he did.

* * * * *

About a month into Miriyam’s time performing at the Dove and Orchid, she slipped out onto a darkened stage, dressed in her personal favorite of the costumes Anika had pulled together for her. The outfit was layered with fabrics of gold and peach, the bust trimmed with freshwater pearls. There were laces at her back and her left hip, cream colored gloves pulled up above her elbows, and sheer stockings pulled up around her exposed thighs.

The music began before the lights started to warm, casting the stage in a pale pink glow and illuminating the bits of shimmer Anika had dusted on Miriyam’s collar and high cheekbones. The silence grew into wolf whistles and shouts as she cast a cheeky wink out to the crowd, dragging a hand lazily up her exposed thigh before she truly began to move.

Lip caught between her teeth, she slid down carefully from the carousel horse, hips swaying in time with the music until the backs of her thighs touched the sparkling stilettos Anika had all but forced onto her. As soon as they did, she was up and moving, body swaying as she made her way across the stage.

Hips rolled, gloved hands slid down over her breasts, down to her hips and over her thighs while a teasing smile pulled at her lips. She grasped the front of her skirt, buttons popping as she bared her thighs and pulled the split fabric up to her hips in favor of showing off her well-toned legs.

She always did like her legs.

With a flick of the wrist, the rest of the buttons popped, allowing her to cast the underlayer of the skirt aside. A playful smile over the shoulder, a roll of the hips, and she strode toward the carousel horse settled centerstage. She pushed down on it, where it tipped on its rocking base, then caught her glove between her teeth at the tip of her finger.

One of her legs lifted, the inside of her ankle skimming up her knee and high on her thigh as she worked that silken glove down her arm until her wrist. She turned, grinning as she kicked a leg up, wrapping the glove around the rod set through the wooden horse’s back and pulled it down the metal surface with a laugh.

There.

A man, light eyes and dark hair, the dim lighting of the Dove and Orchid just enough to let her see the distinct curve in his nose. The second girl had broken it - the third and fourth pointing it out in their own descriptions that led to the final image. There wasn’t a doubt about it in Miriyam’s mind.

He was here again tonight.

There you are, you motherfucker.

Steeling her nerves, she kept up that playful look, tugging on the laces of her skirt at her hip as someone near the front let out a loud whistle. She easily pulled open the wrapped fabric, briefly showing off the garter belts holding up her stockings before the skirt swung shut again. Miriyam turned her back toward the audience, lowering the skirt briefly to give them the briefest glimpse of her ass, laughing as she saw a young woman choke on her drink and repeating the motion when she saw her blush.

Despite her outward calm, Miriyam was keenly aware of the man’s eyes now that she’d seen him - and she knew as soon as the hair rose on the back of her neck that there was no chance she’d made an error.

The skirt was tossed aside, quickly followed by each of her sparkling stilettos before she eased herself up onto the wooden horse’s back. She swung her leg over, pitching her hips forward against the gold plated rod, setting the prop into motion as her legs swung with it. One hand grasping the pole, she leaned back, shooting Anika a wink when she saw her in the back before she pulled her legs beneath her.

Kneeling on its back, her hips lifted, bumping forward against the metal before her hand connected with her ass in a solid slap. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Anika snort, shaking her head as Miriyam dismounted and dragged a hand up her thigh before her hands traveled up to her back.

The corset was relatively easy to unlace - the cords were just long - and came off in moments, swung in a circle over her head before it too was tossed aside. She laughed when it slid and someone grabbed for it, knowing Anika would be a bit displeased to have to track it down, but her mind was elsewhere in the moment.

The practice had paid off - her body moved easily in time with the music, but her mind was set back into her mercenary ways. She was taking in each exit behind her playful smile, each glance cast over her shoulder ensuring her target was still there and still attentive throughout her performance. Perhaps it wasn’t the most conventional method, but...it certainly seemed to be working.

With the garter belt gone, Miriyam leapt up onto the carousel horse’s back, its base tipping dangerously before her weight settled. She stripped off her stocking, swinging her leg out in time with each beat of the music, down until the very tips of her toes before it came off and fluttered through the air.

She eyed the crowd, gesturing to the metal rod, raising a brow and grinning when the whistles grew louder. A few huffs of breath, and she playfully polished it with her balled up stocking, earning her a few goading shouts as she gestured to it again. When it grew louder, she grinned, then leaned forward and dragged the flat of her tongue up the cool metal as languidly as possible.

It fogged under her the heat of her breath, and she pulled away, laughing as she threw the first stocking down and began to pull the other off. Her hips rolled against the pole as she did, and as soon as the stocking was off, she reached for the ribbon at her hip - then shook a finger at the shouting crowd as if to scold them.

Her eyes shifted toward her target for the briefest of moments -

Good. He was still there, still watching, but...there was this look in his eye like he wanted to devour her where she was. And not like the other looks she got when she did this - something behind his eyes, behind that ravenous gaze, set her on the razor’s edge as she reached to unhook her brassiere.

As her routine drew to a slow close - her chest rolling, her hips swaying as she pulled the last layer before the barely-there panties she wore away - her mind was already in the dressing room.

She was cataloging the knives bolted to the underside of her vanity, how much time she needed to get there and how he could get in, but she managed a smile as she leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the wooden horse’s nose in time with the last note of the music behind her.

And as the lights in the room dimmed, she saw him slip away, toward a passage that she knew led backstage and eventually to her dressing room.

And so the hunt began.

* * * * *

Wrapped in a silken robe, Miriyam quickly settled in at her borrowed vanity, taking off the heavy necklace and earrings she’d worn as she lifted her knee into the hilt of the dagger fastened to the surface. Her eyes were focused on her reflection, but her senses were cast elsewhere, searching for any disturbances in the room as she tucked the jewelry away.

Her shoulders tensed imperceptibly as a floorboard creaked just beyond the sight of the mirror, off to her left, but she simply maintained her outward focus as she reached to unfasten her hair from Anika’s careful style.

Then the hand settled on her shoulder, seconds before an arm wrapped around her throat and yanked her back off the stool at the vanity.

Legs tangling with the stool, Miriyam was thrown off balance, her assailant pinning her arms under his other as the first tightened around her neck. Her knee slammed into the bottom of the vanity as she clawed at the arm at her throat, her vision going terrifyingly spotty as she found herself unable to pull in a full breath of air as it pulled tighter and tighter.

With what strength she could muster, she thrust her elbow back into the man’s stomach, catching him low enough to make him shout and loosen his grip on her arms.

She tried to step out of his grasp to make a grab for the knife, but he grappled for her, hand shredding her robe before her right elbow flew back into his jaw. She let out a shout as his hand fisted in her loose hair, but she quickly threw back her left elbow, his hand ripping free as she turned over her shoulder and grabbed the back of his neck. Her knee slammed into his pelvis, and he dropped, giving her time to reach for the vanity before he grabbed her ankle and tried to pull her back.

But it was enough. She pulled the mirror free, hefting it over her head and slamming the silver-backed object down over his head.

Glass splintered and showered around the pair, but the weight of the mirror was enough to knock him down for the count and give Miriyam the chance to catch her breath.

Slowly, carefully, she picked her way around the broken glass and unstrapped her dagger from the underside of the vanity. With an eye on his prone figure, Miriyam slowly opened the door, calling out to Anika from within the dressing room.

Unfortunately, in a place like this, restraints were not quite an immediate find.

Anika was there in moments, a few of the other girls whispering behind her as Miriyam held her shredded robe shut over her breasts.

“Careful, Anika, there’s glass everywhere.” Miriyam murmured, gesturing loosely to the remnants of the mirror all over the floor. “I’ll reimburse you for the mirror.”

The emerald haired woman waved a hand, eyes fixed on the unconscious man hardly ten feet beyond the doorway. “Don’t worry about it, I always thought that mirror was ugly. But...this is him?”

A silent nod, and Anika stepped into the room, shutting it behind her to leave herself and Miriyam alone inside.

“What are you going to do?” She murmured, and Miriyam shrugged, lifting the dagger held in her left hand in a wordless answer. Anika nodded, heaving a deep breath before she locked the door behind her and folded her arms over her chest. “Good…good. What can I do?”

Miriyam picked her way through the glass, her hands passing over the thick fabric hung on the wall before she dragged her knife through it. When she had four thick strips in her hand, she nodded to the man, then one of the chairs tucked away in the corner. “Help me get him into that. You want answers, don’t you?”

Anika nodded, the pair making quick work of his wrists and ankles with a bit of effort to actually get him to sit upright in the chair. The emerald haired woman dusted her hands off and shot Miriyam an amused look, then tugged on one of the knots she’d tied at his wrist. “Well, this is familiar. Last I remember, though, I was the one tied down.”

The silver haired woman choked on a laugh, shaking her head as Anika started to kick the broken shards of glass under the vanity. “Different circumstances, I’d think.”

“I hope. I have pleasant memories of that time.” Anika sighed dramatically, turning the stool over so it sat upright as Miriyam rolled her eyes. She leaned back against the vanity, lip caught between her teeth as Miriyam checked each of the knots, mulling over something before a raised brow prompted her to speak.

“Are you going to make it quick?”

With a feline smile, Miriyam stepped forward, carefully making her way toward the man and stroking a hand through his hair as he started to stir. After a moment her hand tightened into a fist, yanking his head back and exposing his throat to them both. “Not if you ask otherwise.”

Anika’s gaze was of matching intensity, and Miriyam’s eyes flashed an unearthly gold in the darkened room. “Make him answer for my girls, Miri. They’ll sleep soundly knowing they’re safe again.”

With a predatory grin spreading across her lips, Miriyam rounded on the waking man, the sounds of screams and the scent of blood thick in the air when she descended on her prey.

It would be hours before the final spray of blood splattered against the wall and her blade split his throat in two.

* * * * *

Anika’s girls were exceptional at body cleanup, Miriyam soon learned. They were all too eager to help dispose of him, removing all traces from the place that had been their sanctuary long before his presence tainted the boundaries of the Dove’s walls.

The silver haired woman had chosen to lay low after the fact, but a few days later, she found herself in Anika’s office with a glass of wine in hand. They sun hung low in the sky beyond the stained glass window, casting their faces in a rainbow of warm color as they spoke quietly between themselves.

There had been a long silence before Anika spoke up again, her words making Miriyam tense behind the glass raised to her lips.

��Miri...I know things didn’t end well between us…” She started, staring down into the ruby liquid. “There are so many things I didn’t get to say back then or that I didn’t say right. And seeing you all these years later...I think you made the right choice, as much as it felt like you didn’t at the time.”

Miriyam sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair and letting the heel of her boot fall onto the heavy mahogany of Anika’s desk. “Oh, so we’re going there? Thought I might be able to dodge that…”

She set the glass aside and folded her hands over her abdomen, closing her eyes in thought.

“I’ve had a lot of time to reflect recently. Mostly on my life and how I lived it, if I’m honest, and I’ve been thinking about us long before I got your letter.” She waved a hand loosely before it fell back against her stomach. “I loved you, Anika, and I think a part of me somewhere still does. But I don’t think I ever could be the woman you wanted, and I would have been an awful wife back then. We were just a couple of stupid kids caught up in each other whenever the room was dark enough to get our hands down each other’s blouses.”

Anika laughed softly, standing and circling the desk to perch on the edge of the armchair Miriyam was seated in. “As much as I wanted you to say yes back then, I know you’re right. But by the gods, you were this passionate little thing, and I think I was so worried about losing you that I drove you away on my own.”

Miriyam felt her lip tug up at that, huffing a laugh through her nose. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re too kind. I was a disaster, you can tell me that. Nineteen year old Miriyam needed a swift kick in the ass and I’m shocked nobody gave it to her. It would have been well deserved.”

With a laugh, Anika leaned down, kissing the top of Miriyam’s head. The gesture was laden with unspoken affection, but not the romantic affection they’d once had. Slowly, Miriyam opened her eyes, golden eyes meeting warm brown as Anika smoothed away a few pieces of silver hair from her face.

“You’re a good woman, Miri, even if you were a hellion as a kid.” Anika teased, folding her arms over her chest. “And if I know anything about you, it’s how quick you are to depreciate your own value. I just hope that one day you can understand what you’re truly worth.”

Miriyam was quiet before she surged out of her seat, reaching for her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She kissed Anika’s forehead before giving her a raucous grin, one hand shoved into her pocket.

“Maybe. We’ll see what plan the gods have laid out for me.” She mused, striding over to the globe Anika had perched on her desk. She tapped a point on its surface, the gold leaf lettering bright in the setting sun. “I’ve got a contract. Ship leaves tonight, bound for Vesuvia. I’ll be there for about six months before the contract ends and I move elsewhere. I’d like you to write to me sometime, preferably before another six years goes by.”

Anika nodded, wrapping her arms around Miriyam in a loose embrace until the taller woman returned it.

“I’ll try.” She whispered, then leaned up and pressed a kiss to Miriyam’s cheek. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? You can always stay in Prakra a bit longer.”

Miriyam couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips, shrugging her shoulders as she slipped from Anika’s arms and toward the door of her office.

“While such an offer warms my cold, dead heart...I think it would be good for me to move on.” Miriyam laughed as Anika punched her in the side, grumbling to herself about idiot women as she continued. “Don’t worry, Anika. I’ll be...how shall I put it? I believe the term is ‘Peachy Keen’?

Anika slammed her glass down, shoving at Miriyam’s back with a sound of disgust. “That’s it, get the hell out of my building. I don’t know why I thought I missed you, I hate your puns, I hate your face, get out - !”

Miriyam grabbed the doorframe as Anika tried to force her through it, grinning over her shoulder when she saw the smile pulling across Anika’s face. “You love me.” She crooned, then stumbled when Anika’s knee planted itself against her ass and knocked her hands free of the doorframe. She just laughed and turned, walking backwards and giving Anika a two fingered salute as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “See you around, Ani!”

“Never will be too fucking soon!”

Miriyam’s laughter would echo back to her, a fond smile on the woman’s lips and her heart lighter than when she had arrived, leaving the Dove and Orchid behind for the very last time.

#miriyam #miriyam von helvig #arcana oc miriyam #writing #the arcana game #the arcana #it's ten am and I'm making it spicy on main

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lovelytemptationsforyou-blog · 5 years

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psa

I have been struggling a long time with this, but I think I need to put this blog on a semi-hiatus and be more selective with threads and replies. I don’t know why but I just feel burnout and in a weird headspace for a couple of weeks now and it leads to me feeling stressed out & makes all kinds of anxiety I have, flare up for me whenever I look at this blog or my plotting messages or the replies I owe. This not only applies to indie but also to my group rps as well. So it’s NOT ON anyone but solely on me.

Thus, I have decided to put threads on hold for a while till I have enough muse for all of them again. :( And I will most likely be doing new things to get my inspo., spirit and writing mojo up again. ( But it will most likely be threads where either of us make starters that involves our characters jumping into things with assumed connections or something, and then only after replying will we discuss further about that connection if necessary. Because my anxiety is just making it difficult for me to do thorough plotting before finally starting threads. ) I deeply apologize AND I AM SO SO TERRIBLY SORRY FOR DISAPPOINTING MOST OF YOU GUYS WHO ARE EAGERLY WAITING ON REPLIES AND/OR STARTERS FROM ME ESP FOR THOSE OF YOU WHOM I WAS IN THE MIDST OF PLOTTING SOMETHING EXCITING WITH AND NOW IT LOOKS LIKE IT WON’T MATERIALIZE ANYTIME SOON. YOU GUYS ARE ALL AMAZING WRITERS AND I FEEL SO AWFUL ABOUT LETTING Y’ALL DOWN, BUT IF I DON’T MAKE THIS DECISION FINALLY NOW, I MAY SLOWLY JUST SILENTLY LEAVE DUE TO MY INCREASING CRIPPLING ANXIETY AND NOT COME BACK TO THIS BLOG EVER AGAIN. AND i DON’T WANT TO DO THAT, COS I REALLY LOVE ALL OF YOU AMAZING PEOPLE WHOM I’VE GOTTEN TO KNOW/ WRITE WITH THROUGH THIS BLOG. THUS, I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE AGAIN & I HOPE Y’ALL CAN UNDERSTAND, THOUGH I COMPLETELY GET IT IF Y’ALL ARE UPSET AND WANT TO UNFOLLOW/BLOCK ME. NO HARD FEELINGS & I JUST WISH YOU ALL THE BEST . xoxo!

#psa

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satyrykal · 5 years

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Departure Chapter 2 - Back from Hiatus!

Title: Departure

Author: Satyrykal

Pairing: Natsu x Lucy

Genre: Romance/Fantasy

Rating: M

Spoiler Warning: Not in the canon-verse, but pays homage to ideas in the Alvarez arc.

Summary: Natsu has been by her side for years - her faithful guard and the man she was never supposed to fall in love with. Lucy is bound by duty and custom, promised to another - yearning for freedom outside the confines of her grandfather’s court. So when the drums of war throw the kingdom into disarray, they make their move – consequences be damned.

Read the story here, or preview the excerpt below!

Running Chapter Timeline:

1 - 2nd July, X494: Lucy 23, Natsu 25

2 - 2nd July, X484: Lucy 13, Natsu 15

CHAPTER 2 Excerpt – The Beginning

"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering." – Nicole Krauss, 2005

2nd July, X484

Once upon a time – not yours or mine – lived a girl spun from stars and sunshine.

This is her story.

The sun beat down from overhead as she raced across the field, wind pulling her hair free from its braid in strands of gold. Meadows of summer daisies and lupines passed by, shaded by the thick canopy above as the King's Wood gave way the high grass of the garden green. Her hands were tight and sweaty against the reins as she leaned forward, fingers digging into the fine leather as she urged the gray spotted mare onward.

"Come on Nikora, it's you and me now. Till the end." She whispered, her thighs straddling the horse, savoring the familiar burn in her quads as they galloped faster. She was answered by a thunder of hoofbeats as clots of dirt flew behind them as they tore through the tree line.

Lucy gave a whoop of laughter and charged past the crop of ancient oaks that hid the castle from view. Her eyes flashed amber as she took in the grand turrets, the palace's marbled façade imposing as it loomed ahead.

The gates grew closer as she sped through its arch, giggling at the calls of the sentries that greeted her as her pace slowed to a canter – still fast enough that some raised their voices in warning. Still, it wasn't until the stables were in sight that she reared the mare.

"Slow girl, gentle." She coaxed, lightening her hold until Nikora had geared to a trot, a gentle double beat as she wove her way past the other evening riders.

Smiling softly at the passersby, Lucy kissed her horse's mane – brushing the coarse white strands through her gloved fingers. She breathed deeply, taking in the earthen scent of grain feed and wood before wrinkling her nose at hint of manure that hit her last.

As they came up the walkway, a handler met her to lead her to the mount's stall.

"I've got it Igneel, I can get her ready and comb her down on my own." She told the older man, trying and failing to keep the reins away from him when he reached them.

Igneel cut a tall figure, with broad shoulders that stretched the leather of his jerkin. His hair was pulled sharply back, cascading down his back like liquid wildfire. Lucy had always thought the older man was handsome, though the long scar through his right eye and cheek below it gave him a menacing aura. It had taken some time for her to warm up to the former warrior.

She'd met him shortly after he'd taken over as the royal beastmaster half a decade ago, gaining his attention when the young royal continuously snuck out to the stables when she should have been minding her lessons. However, instead of returning her to her governess as was expected, he'd simply boom with laughter – allowing her to bob between the various stalls as she played hide-and-seek with some poor, harried palace guard on her protection detail.

He'd always had a soft spot for the princess, indulging her love for riding and the measure of freedom it afforded her.

When she continued to whine and fight his grip on the horse's lead, he just grinned shaking his head at her, a piece of hay anchored between his teeth.

"Off you go then Princess, not worth my time to convince you otherwise." He chuckled, patting her leg as he went back to his tack, wiping dirty hands on his stained smock. It wasn't his job to act as a common stable hand, but he'd always doted on the girl.

She beamed at his idle dismissal; teeth white and lips pulled wide as she dismounted – directing her horse back to the corner stall. Grabbing a bucket, she placed it by Nikora who dipped her muzzle into the water immediately, long tongue slurping as she drank greedily.

A few minutes later, Lucy heard a rattle on the path outside as another couple of mounts came into view.

In front was a young girl of about thirteen with a head of smooth blue locks, tied back neatly though a few wisps brushed her pale cheeks. Her legs were looped through the horn of her side saddle, covered by the folds of her sapphire skirts. The newcomer frowned, scanning the space until her gaze landed on a pair of guilty brown eyes peeking out above the corner booth.

"Lucy you promised you would stay with us this time!" The blunette called out, glaring at her friend.

The blonde smiled sheepishly when she was caught, gesturing to her mare.

"I meant to, but Nikora wanted to go faster, and I couldn't tell her no. She's wind-blown." Lucy answered, placing a sugar cube under the horse's mouth. The mare licked it up unhurriedly, tickling the girl's palm.

"Don't yell Juvia, we're already here." The third rider scolded as she too, came to a stop – expression exasperated.

The girls blushed slightly at reproach in the older woman's voice, her own aqua locks held back by a laurel braid that started at her temples, nostrils flared slightly as she peered down at her errant charges.

"Sorry Aquarius, I will keep that in mind." Juvia apologized bobbing her chin down once in respect before dismounting with a nearby page's help. Unlike her friend, she followed decorum as befit her station. She thanked the boy absently, not noticing his stuttered reply as she walked over to the young royal, lifting her skirts up so they did not drag across the mud.

"We saw you riding astride, you know your father would be upset if he found out." Juvia told the princess quietly when she reached her, resting her chin on the wooden divider of the stall as she watched her. Lucy shrugged, still brushing her horse down in broad strokes.

She found the action calming, loving the warmth radiating under her palms.

"Then don't tell him. Beside, I only ever do it on castle grounds – never when it really counts. I just love being able to fly over the hills. The whole world just blurs into colours." She breathed softly, dreamily. She fumbled with her gloves monetarily before yanking them off so she could feel Nikora's coat beneath her fingers.

Juvia nodded once, shoulders slumping.

She had expected as much. Like Igneel, she knew little changed the blonde's mind when it was set.

"You know I never do. I'm going to go back to my rooms to clean up. The representatives of the Mermaid Heel Corps will be arriving by supper. The king says we're to join them at the table." The blunette trailed off, hoping to entice the other girl to come with her.

Her words had the intended effect.

Lucy's ears perked up; her dark irises bright in the light streaming in through the rafters.

The Corps were warrior priestesses of the faith. They had guarded the Temple of Nirvana – deep within the Woodsea – for millennia. Though women were scarcely allowed to join in battle ranks within the borders of her own nation, sacred rights kept them outside the scope of the king's jurisdiction.

"I'll finish up quickly too then." Lucy promised, her cedar eyes shining as her hands indeed flew through Nikora's fur with renewed vigor.

Growing up, she adored hearing about the holy maidens – their exploits transcending fact to legend. They were named for the Nirvana of the Sea who had sent her daughters above on land, changeling sprites who created the first temple order.

Lady Aquarius, her governess, had grown up north of the great Eastern Forest in a township marking where the Clover River spilled into the ocean. When her village had been slaughtered in a raid, the priestesses had taken the older woman in until reinforcements arrived from the capital.

A childhood friend of the late duchess, the stoic blunette had shifted to the palace a decade prior, quickly settling into the role of guardian for the motherless princess. Sometimes when her charge begged, she would display some of the fighting forms she had learned whilst living in the Grand Temple for the little girl.

Lucy was torn from her musings when Juvia waved a manicured hand in front of her face, catching her attention. Eyes crinkling in laughter, the blunette twiddled her fingers in farewell before turning, petticoats still lifted carefully to keep them from the dirt. She sped up the hill to the main castle, Aquarius following at a more sedate pace.

Across the stable, some groomsmen were feeding their horses and putting away the ladies' gear – they movements practiced. Lucy preferred to do it herself, she liked the smell of the hay and the shine of her mare's coat when she was properly brushed down. She liked how this corner of the palace ground made it seem as if she were beyond its towering walls.

As she finished, she wiped her hands on a washcloth a squire had offered her, smoothing flyaways on her head the best she could – her appearance bedraggled. Still, she wasn't too worried, knowing she would be required to change her clothing once she returned to her chambers prior to dinner.

She was latching the mare's gate when she heard neighing coming from a stall near the exit.

Until recently it had been empty.

Curious, she patted Nikora's velvet nose before making her way to the noise. Inside was a tall, beautiful creature with a rick black hide, a single white stripe dabbed its nose and pooled at its feet. Sensing her, the stallion snorted jerking its muzzle in a circle.

Lucy paced back. She pressed her lips together, rocking on the soles of her boots before shifting closer step by step.

"What a gorgeous fellow you are." She breathed, stretching out her palm so he could sniff her. He whinnied loudly in response, as if unsure whether to trust the stranger in front of him. When he didn't bite however, the girl tried to reach further, stepping up on an old crate in order to lean over the railing.

His reaction was immediate.

The stallion reared its head and pawed the ground at her approach, gnashing its teeth. Startled, she lost her footing slightly, catching her riding gear on the lumber and throwing her balance. She grabbed for the side wall, only to miss, her palms grazing the splintering wood in vain.

For a moment, it was as if time stopped.

End of Excerpt

Read the rest at Fanfiction.net!

Chapter 1, 2

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hollywoodfamerp · 5 years

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can you put jesy and niall on hiatus till wednesday? i'm an bit busy with college and so my muses for them are low this week :( thank you!

Of course, honey! I’ll go add them to the hiatus list for you now. We hope that things get less busy for you and your muse comes back in strong force!

#absence #hiatus #jesy nelson #niall horan #wcngschloe

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whzbang · 5 years

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trigger warning: negativity, anxiety

i’m going to be putting both this blog & my multi on an indefinite semi-hiatus until i can figure out what i want to do! it’s mainly for my mental health, but below the cut is a more thorough explanation. but the gist of it is, i need a little time off due to a lot that has been happening over the past few days both in my personal life & online. i’ll definitely pop on and off to do replies when i feel that i can, but i may also disappear for days if not weeks on end.

below is a much more explained reasoning, but it deals a lot with anxiety & a few negative topics! i try to keep my blog as far from negativity and mentioning things like this, but this has been building up for months now, and i feel that i just need to let it all out. so feel free to read, feel free to just scroll past! ( it does include what i will probably end up doing with carol’s blog as in possibly moving her again and just starting fresh )

i do feel that i needed to explain this a bit, at least to those i feel that would want an explanation. but this mainly revolves around how my summer classes are going, plus i am in the midst of moving in between states ( just packing right now, i won’t officially be moving till the end of july ) but in this sense, my anxiety has heavily been coming from that, but also online.

for some reason, tumblr has began to feel more like a chore rather than enjoyable. i’m constantly worried about my portrayal of carol, which i know we all go through, but i haven’t really felt this way before now. and it’s really been riding me for the last few weeks much more continuously rather than before. don’t get me wrong, i’ve had my doubts about my portrayal before, but for some reason, life just really hit me hard and really cranked up my anxiety every time i log onto this account. it has NOTHING to do with anyone other than myself.

i’ve already revamped and moved accounts for carol, and she’s really my only escape from real life. i really have a heavy dependency on writing her and yet for some reason, i really feel that no one wants to write with me ( which again, it’s probably just the anxiety speaking ). and with how much of a mess my real life is right now between juggling summer courses and prepping to move, i thought carol + my new multi would be a good way to escape, and yet i find myself even more overwhelmed than before.

i feel with carol it’s mainly due to how much i burden myself with her. i want to give my absolute best in writing her and developing her because not just carol as a character, but brie larson herself, are just HUGE inspirations to me. and i really plague myself with ambitions and expectations that sometimes i really just judge myself too harshly with.

and i really don’t want to go on a semi-hiatus for carol considering how much i just ADORE writing her. i never lose muse for her, and i get excited every time i log on. but with how much anxiety is weighing over me + the feeling that no one really wants to write with me or finds me annoying ( because again, i’m putting this all in my head lbr ) i just need to clear my head for a few days and i will probably still be around, but i won’t post.

i just need the time to figure out if i want to stick around in the fandom or if it’s time for me to back off for a little while.

#✶‘ﾟ‣ ( ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀ ! ) — ➤ o o c #negativity //#anxiety //

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supersoldierfreak · 6 years

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Devotee

Slowly making my way through requests after a long writing hiatus......

Request: Hi Phee!! I’ve read all your fics and they’re so goooddddd! I was wondering if you could do a con-artist!reader x bucky where he knows her before joining with the avengers and he calls her (unbeknownst to the Avengers) and she turns up and stuff??

Whoop, so here we go I’ll be trying to make my way through the list over the next couple of days and I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long and this has taken so long to get written :( xx

Masterlist

“The painting ‘Starry Night Over The Rhone’ has been stolen in transit from the Musee d’Orsay in Paris to The Metropolitan Museum of Art here in New York.”

Stark scoffed. “We’re the Avengers; why are you coming to us over art theft?”

“Because it’s not the first theft. There have been several other high-level thefts of a similar nature and we believe they’re all related.” Fury stared him down with his one eye.

Steve looked up from the file in front of him. “And by similar nature you mean?”

Fury leaned off the table. “All of them have been art thefts or valuable items. Moreover, they’ve all had the same signature left at the scene.” He pulled out an item and placed it on the table before flicking his coat and walking out the door.

On the table laid an origami swan.

A man who had been silent all the way through the meeting made eye-contact with femme fatale sat opposite him before walking out the room alongside everyone else.

Later that day, Bucky Barnes sat on the bed of the room Stark had given him spinning the burner phone in his hand. Coming to a conclusion he dialed a number and waited with baited breath.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

You slipped past a businessman, sliding his wallet from his suit pocket and smirked before extracting the notes from the wallet, putting them into your own bag before doubling back and slipping the wallet back into the man’s pocket and continued down Fifth Avenue, no one any the wiser. You had barely moved when your phone began to ring causing you to raise it to an ear, only barely glancing at the Caller ID.

“Hey Barnes, it’s been a long time since you’ve decided to show face.” Your tone was light, showing nothing was meant by the comment.

“What can I say? It’s been rather busy.” The man replied with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes. “Somehow, through magic obviously, I don’t think this is just a social call.”

“Damn doll, how could you have known; it must be the magic.”

You laughed into the phone at his sarcasm as you moved south. “How can I help?”

“Heard of the collectibles thefts going on at the moment? Well we’ve been assigned the case by Fury.”

“Wait Nick Fury as in the dead but now apparently not dead SHIELD director?”

“Yeah, but that’s not common intel so mind out. Thought the case may be of some interest to you if you wanted in, Y/N.”

“Consider my interest caught but tell them I want a 10% cut when I’m done because I already have it down to three people anyway. Are you based at the tower or some other ex-government secret base?”

Bucky laughed. “No, we’re at the tower. I’m guessing you’re on your way?”

“Make sure they’re ready for me. And tell Nat I’ve missed her.”

The line went as you ended the call, the Empire State Building and Avengers Tower coming into sight.

The doors loomed over your head as you pushed your way through the spinning door. you scanned the crowd before picking an employee. You flashed a smile onto your face bumping into the poor woman.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to! Here let me help.” You grabbed the files she had dropped on the floor with her help and as you handed them over you slid her badge off waist. “Once again miss, I’m so sorry!” Flashing an apologetic smile at her as you walked backwards to reach the gates. You scanned your new security card so the guard could buzz you through and you waited till you were out of sight in the elevator.

Scanning the card one more, the buttons became illuminated so you could choose the one you wanted. Ascending to what you knew to be the Avengers floor, you happily sipped your Starbucks drink you had acquired from reception and watched the numbers flash.

When the elevator opened with a ping you strolled out and surveyed it all. The modern design showed an open plan kitchen and living area with a large dining table to transition the two. Various things were scattered around the place: papers, files, a gun, and a few books on the kitchen island. Bucky stood there, arms crossed looking at you amused.

“Was the Starbucks necessary?”

You looked affronted. “Absolutely.”

You opened your arms and walked towards him as he did the same, his tightly wrapping around your waist and yours swung around his neck in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N.” He whispered.

“You too, James.” You pulled away and took a few steps around the kitchen, your hand just barely brushing over the gun on the side. “So now I’ve gone through weapon checks and reunions...”

The sound of a gun being cocked sounded behind you and you trailed off staring at James sending telepathic help signals.

James who was leaning forward on the island, smiled at the person and shook his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A familiar female questioned it. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes sarcastically as you turned around head down. “Well for one it would bloody hurt.”

You could see the gun lowering through your hair before the grip tightening and a loud click was audible. And again. And again. And..

“Looking for this?” You lent back on the island, armed folded, holding the missing magazine from the gun.

“Y/N?” Natasha’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped ever so slightly.

“Hey Nat.” You smiled as she zoomed to embrace you in a tight hug.

“What are you doing here? Not that I’m not loving the fact you’re here.” Natasha took steps until she was with the rest of the team again.

“Well, mon cherie,” You moved around to lean on his shoulder in mock adoration. “Our darling soldier gave me a ring.”

James shrugged you off with a chuckle.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, stepped forward. “Who are y-”

“Oh my god! You guys could have told me that there was a legend in the building. Y/N L/N, I am a huge fan of your work and your innate ability to piss off almost any figure of authority there is. I mean it’s truly incredible and-”

“ Mr Stark. Thank you.” A deep voice cut the billionaire off as a man dressed in purely black garments walked in, an eye-patch and all. “Avengers, this is Y/N L/N, the best con-artist in the world.”

“Hey! Alleged con-artist. They never actually proved I did any of my alleged work. Besides I’m touched; you think I’m the best?”

“You said it yourself: everybody knows you did your ‘alleged’ work but they can never tie it to you making you the best, Y/N.” Natasha interrupted as she clicked the gun magazine back into place.

“Prove it.” Sam Wilson aka The Falcon.

You laughed. “Okay, sure. Can I borrow your wallet a second?”

He patted around his pockets only to look up and see you smirking, holding the wallet. “What? How? You haven’t even come near me?”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me, Wilson, it’s rather provocative.” You raised an eyebrow and twirled the wallet in my hand before tossing it back to him.

He opened it only to see brown leather.

“Missing these?” Your hand held his card and $65 in bills

“Yeah give ‘em back. That’s mine.” You laughed at him before sliding it along the counter to him.

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.” Although as you said this you were testing the balance of one of Barton’s knives he kept on him at all times.

Clint just stared at you entirely confused but accepted the knife gingerly when you held it for him.

“So, as your new Art theft consultant I will take the liberty of narrowing down the suspect list to three people.” You threw three folders from your bag onto the counter as Bucky stood next to you. “Yeah you have him to thank for this.”

TAGLISTS:

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@nyxveracity @ariii271 @pointlesscasey @tahiti-island-dream @jayzayy @kapolisradomthoughts @curlycalscastellagreen @chipz4dayz@camibirdieboo @darkmelodies1 @saltymaddiee @lalalahgh @sammysgirl1997 @woofstar64 @marvel-lously @madamrubrum @ailynalonso15 @laqueus-ludovicus @evyiione @shawnsassymendes

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metalpiratequeen · 5 years

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Hiatus

[[This isn’t an easy decision for me to make, but I’m going on hiatus for a while. I can’t promise when I’ll come back, if I’ll even come back, but I’m hoping once July rolls round I’ll finally have some control over my life again and know what it is I really want.

I don’t want to archive this blog. I don’t even want to go on hiatus, but I feel like I’ve run out of options. I haven’t been happy with the quality of my writing for nearly three years now. I’ve been pulled in so many directions I no longer feel inspired and I don’t want to keep offering the bare minimum to the people who have put in so much work into writing threads with me and coming up with amazing plot lines.

And maybe a part of it also has to do with the fact I don’t really feel any strong attachment to Transformers anymore and the fact I only interact with other TFOC is very telling. The world of Cybertron has just become a backdrop for me for other stories. I’ve moved on from the fandom itself, but I’ve stayed because there is nothing else that captures my imagination the same way this one did, and I like the friends I made here and the stories we crafted. I like the nostalgia, and the feeling of safety this blog provides. But I’m tired of being scared of moving on and being afraid of change.

I don’t want this to be goodbye. I just want to try new things. I want to get invested in epic world building and writing outside the restraints of this sandbox I’ve spent the last several years playing in. I want to get back into writing fanfiction and complete some personal projects that have been shelved for several years now. I may come back here one day but I don’t think I’ll be the same person, and my muse won’t be the same person either.

I contemplated for the longest time about turning Lazarette into a fandomless blog and even went looking for artists who would be willing to help design a human form for her. And that might be the best way forward if I want to keep growing and challenging myself as a writer. Hell, I even contemplated bringing back a lot of archived muses under the disguise of fandomless OCs just so I can play with them again.

Please know I am so sorry I am going through with this, but know it wasn’t an easy decision to make. If anyone still wants to continue our threads, or write new threads, or just to keep in contact. I’m always on discord. Morning till night I’m available, so please drop me a note and I’ll accept your friend request.

Username: Bronze Wool#3348

Thank you to those who stayed with me since the beginning. Thank those who just recently stumbled upon my page and thought I was worth a chance. Thank you to know who knew me from past muses and continued to follow me all this time. You made me feel at home and I’ll never be able to repay your kindness.]]

#[ooc] dead men tell no tales #I love each and every one of you #hopefully this isn't the end #just a much needed break to recharge my batteries #but if it is I hope to see you in the next fandom

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scorching-queen · 6 years

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I'm done.

I never ask for money. I never ask for support. I don't break people's rules. I don't get involved in drama. I don't pester people constantly for replies. I try to the best of my ability to play my characters. But you know what? It seems like it doesn't even fucking matter. Because basically every time I get excited to RP with someone, I'm dropped. It's the same old shit, every single time. New person follows me, we get roleplaying, and then a month or two later I'm dropped with ZERO explanation (or some BS reason), and I'm ignored when I reach out to them, despite them rping with other people. I'm sick of it. It hurts. This is why I've gone on hiatus this time around.

Furthermore, I don't even feel comfortable here anymore. When I'm on Discord, I feel safe. On here, I always feel like some shithead is watching me, trying to wait till I fuck up and make my time on here hell by talking shit about me or what have you. I ended up hating one of my own muses because of this shit. So you know what? Fuck it. I now know I am not wanted here by most, despite being here for an entire year plus some more. I'll come back when I feel like it. Tumblr isn't fun anymore.

And you know, maybe some of it is my fault. I'm too shy and awkward for my own good. But honestly I feel like just about anything I do, can get me blocked and/or gossiped about. Now however, I'm putting my foot down. I've made some good lifestyle changes (working out, working more, sleeping more, etc) that leave me more confident and assertive in my life. Expect a rules revision sometime too, by the way.

If you are interested, or are one of the wonderful people who have supported me, and not dropped me or given up on me, you can reach out to me on Discord at mistausadx#4066 if you want to RP with me or just talk. I'm not giving up RP entirely, but on here I'm done with it. I'm also going to try Writscrib for RPing, maybe. Maybe I'll be back in a week, maybe in a month. For now, the hiatus continues.

#rant #ooc

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secretsbehindthenine · 6 years

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Question: what ever happened to your ninjashow fanfic, Secrets Behind the Nine? Is it on hiatus? Cancelled?

Hoo boy, I knew I was gonna get this ask eventually…

Context for my followers, if you didn’t know already. (Warning, this is gonna get pretty long, so more under the cut.)

Long time ago, I wrote a ninjashow fanfic series called “The Story of the Warrior in White”. It was basically like every other fanfic about giving Randy a female partner that would eventually become his girlfriend, except the female ninja’s history was heavily involved in the backstory of the Norisu Nine and the Sorcerer. As of now, SotWiW has been deleted and the files for the story I’ve lost while transferring my writing files to a new flash drive. I deleted the story off my FanFic account because a) I found them horrifically cringy and poorly written, b) the whole thing was just a hot mess that my middle school mind conjured up before I took writing seriously, and c) I didn’t want the story to be around anymore since I had much better stories for others to see. I’ve rewritten this series twice, first calling it “The Dark Reality: Secrets Behind the Norisu Nine” and then dubbing it “Secrets Behind the Nine: The Shadow Warrior”. In both rewrites, I decided to make the story more serious and darker, focusing on the lore of the Norisu Nine and how the Sorcerer came to be. I also remade the female ninja character, no longer making her Randy’s love interest but rather his and Howard’s best friend that had moved away prior to them entering high school. Her family still had strong connections to the Norisu Nine and the Sorcerer, though.

The latest rewrite, SBtN, I’ve struggled writing because of the lack of ninjashow content and me focusing more on my original stories. When I announced that I wasn’t going to do fanfics anymore, I was relieved because I didn’t want to continue writing a story that I lost my muse for. After all, when you lose your passion for something, it shows in the work you put into. However, I was angry at myself because I was abandoning so many good ideas and plot lines.

SBtN was basically going to be a reimagining of the whole show, where the characters stayed the same but the backstory and lore of their world would be completely revamped. The history of Norisu Nine would’ve been fleshed out and explored, as well as the Sorcerer and Norrisville itself. I was even going to feature my version of human!Nomicon.

But, unfortunately, I lost my drive to make fanfics and wanted to focus more on original content. Which really bums me out because I wouldn’t be a writer without RC9GN inspiring me. With it not getting a third season, I was so ready to just go ham in my fanfics. I wanted to explore a world that the ninjashow never got to, to show a side to the characters we know and love that we’ve never seen before. I am a storyteller, and not being able to tell a story really gets me. I wanted to continue SBtN, to not let it be another unfinished story that haunts my profile on FF.net. But, how was I gonna do it?

If you guys followed me since my start in fanfics, you would know that there was another ninjashow fanfic in my fanfic account that I was working on alongside SotWiW/TDR/SBtN, called “The Dimension Walker”. If any of you follow me on my main blog ( @thegirlwiththecrimsoncloak ), you would know that I turned this little blurb about a fan of the show that traveled to its dimension into an original urban fantasy series that’s currently being posted on my Wattpad. And, ever since I made it into an original series, I’ve been having a blast writing it.

TDW has come a long way from its initial state way back when. And, I thought that maybe I should turn what I had planned for SBtN into an original series. After all, all the stuff I had planned is not canon whatsoever and largely just headcanon-based. Turning SBtN into an original series may be what it needs.

And so, “Secrets Behind the Nine” became “The Yokai Seven”. It’s basically about seven teens that have been chosen to protect their town of Kazuya, Japan from an ancient sorcerer that’s trying to break free and wreck havoc in the world. As they battle against the forces of evil, they also have to deal with hiding their secret identies whilst navigating through the troubling fiasco we know as high school. Much like our beloved ninjashow, except it has a more serious tone (but still retains the humor and lightheartedness I loved about RC9GN) and filled with a diverse cast of Asians (from the Middle East to the Far East). Plus, it also takes place in the future, so there’s that!

In short, SBtN is not coming back as a fanfic but is being rewritten as an original series. I’m currently working on the outline for it. So far, I have about four chapters outlined. I might make a blog for it in the future, but only when I start writing the chapters out.

I’m sorry to those that were looking forward to more chapters of SBtN, but I hope y’all will follow the development of Yokai Seven! If you love and miss Randy Cunningham, you should definitely check out Yokai Seven. It might not be exactly like the ninjashow, but it still has elements from it.

Till next time!

~Ari

#Ari answers #secrets behind the nine #secrets behind the nine the shadow warrior #secretsbehindthenine #rc9gn

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honey-and-strawberry · 3 years

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No no, I don’t mind at all! Apparently (this is what my mother told me) my teachers caught on pretty early that I had som difficulties but since I read A LOT of books no one really tested me. I got glossary with me home from school every week to practice but I don’t have any memory of this. It wasn’t until I was going to take my drivers license it was noted (I had studied 2 years at university at that point without any problem) but this theoretical test for the drivers license, I never passed it! I tried 5 times and by the fifth time I was completely crushed and devastated, how stupid must I be for not managing that test!? Well, turned out I wasn’t stupid, I just changes places of some words and read a bit slower. After that I got some adjustments for doing the test and got only 4 wrong answers of 70 questions ^^. Wow...that was a long explanation!

Well of course they want to hang out with the cute American, you’re fricking adorable AND lovely personality ❤️! Let’s just stick with you’re a good listener 😁!

Tolerance to heat still sounds like magic and witchcraft. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

Actually, in the beginning I thought Shownu and Jooheon had plastic surgery, because of their lips, it looked to perfect to be done by nature and DNA but as time went by I figured that wasn’t the case - even if it were, I wouldn’t care, they can do whatever they want to their own bodies. I have a hard time with fans who bluntly tell their idols when they don’t like something with their idol, hair, tattoo or what not. Regarding Wonho, that amount of muscle isn’t attractive to me HOWEVER no one can deny the amount of work and dedication he put in his body and shaping in the wet he wants to! And besides that, the music he does and produces is just pure bliss ^^. I also love the fact that he is questioning beauty standards in Korea. An idol will never ever be able to satisfy all its fans at the same time but still fans are so pushy!!

Hmm, it was the Song itself, or more than so the beat. I’ve never been anyone to listen to lyrics that deep but the music and the beat has to have something. And monsta x sure has a lot of those songs, as I later found out ^^. Aww, that your boyfriend was a bit worried that he would make you upset ^^. Although some fans are rotten to the core most monbebes seems to have a quite hearty and joking attitude with the members. I’ve den a lot of mems and the king of them all 😊!

Maybe this is something you’ve written about before but when did you start writing, and what was the reason for it, if you don’t mind me asking?/stumbling anon

I’m gonna answer bellow to save space❤️

That’s amazing you got an answer and can accommodate for it! When I was little I had a problem with reading and speaking so I was in speech therapy from kindergarten till about middle school (tested out of it in 7-8th grade). I thought my problem was I was so young when I started school (I was in the cusp for the age group to start school so I was always the youngest in my grade), but as I get older I think my problem could be associated with something else because I would think too fast so I would sometimes slur my words whether it’s speaking or reading. (Which explains why when I write, I sometimes skip words like “the” or “and”).

Aw shucks 🥺❤️ sadly when I was a teenager I would get hit on a lot when I visited Europe, but thankfully they backed off when I said my age. It’s not my fault I had good tits 😭

Tolerance to heat is witchcraft and I feel the same way about people who have a tolerance to cold. I’m glad to be a desert witch, but you can’t grow anything here.

I thought the same thing about Honey and nunu(Shownu)! But then seeing childhood photos, there’s no way it’s artificial. I wish shownu had his chubby cheeks again 😔 same with Changkyun. Omg I get so upset about the tattoo thing because “fans” pressured Wonho to remove his tattoos and it’s like bitch those are not for you, they’re for him. Imagine his photos now if he kept the one on his thighs 🥴.

The song is so hype I totally understand why you love it! Coincidentally that mv was the one that had me scared of Jooheon 😱 he looked so tall and intimidating, I was so scared of him. I’m glad I have a sense of humor when it comes to me being a fan because yeah some people could be sensitive about jokes but I lived on the “we tease you because we love you but we would never cross the line”.

I don’t mind talking about me writing ☺️ I think I started writing stuff back in my early teens (mostly original stuff, I tried writing fanfic but couldn’t get it write). My best friend liked my stuff and would often read it, it was very sweet. My parents even liked my writing, I think my dad is my number fan, he would often ask me if I’m still writing and what I’m writing about (but I won’t actually tell him what I’m writing for obvious reasons. He knows it’s explicit content). After graduating high school I had a huge hiatus during university, it could be because of time but I don’t really know. Maybe I didn’t have a muse back then. I didn’t start writing again till I found kpop but I only wrote for myself. I didn’t know there was a whole community dedicated to content like this so after a few months of keeping stuff to myself, I started posting (on a different blog). It was so scary at first because I thought it would be cringe or bad, but people seemed to enjoy it. I gained some very lovely friends during that time and I’m eternally thankful for them and what I achieved. I made this new blog because my last writing blog was a side blog and it got annoying. I don’t regret moving to this one, it’s a lot cleaner. Do I miss having all of those followers (lol as if it was a lot, it was barely 300 before I made this one) and having access to immediate notifications on posts? Sure, but this one I don’t feel restricted. I don’t think my fics will ever compete to some of my past work, but it’s not about the note count, it’s about sharing the story and if people don’t want to read it 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ yes there is a big problem with lack of interactions that kill content creators, but I accepted I’m probably never going to get interaction except from the same 4-ish people (and there is nothing wrong with that, I love you and the others too❤️). Problems I’ve had trying to back “popularity” (as if I had that in the first place) is lack of readers using the tags to find content (they would use top tags instead of recents), of course lack of reblogging, and too much favoritism (there are some blogs who don’t deserve their following and it’s not because I’m salty). Sorry I rambled for a bit, it was just a lot on my mind. I really want to continue writing, but finding motivation and getting into the right headspace is hard as hell😔 (in reality I have a better time brainstorming and collaborating with friends than I do actual writing and they all call me a genius for the fluidity and ideas. Bless them❤️)

Something unrelated but what is the craziest dream you ever had that you remember??? If you ever had a reoccurring dream

#my stumbling anon❤️❤️❤️

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