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amusedyan · 3 years

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Monthly Meetings

A Peaky Blinders commission!

Words: 2k

Once a month there was a meeting. It was something dreaded by both parties, but one that was necessary- it was neutral territory, where mutual suggestions were discussed, grievances were gone over and business settled. No one officially came armed- but that was never written into the deal. Just like it wasn’t discussed that both parties came with a small coterie of their most trusted, each eyeing the other and waiting for a twitchy trigger finger.

Tommy Shelby was never on time to any meeting.

He came early when he was the one to suggest it- to get the drop on the other person, to make an impression. You waste my time, and you have no right to ask anything of me, was the goal there. When told to meet someone, he always made it a point to arrive 5 minutes late, because you aren’t worth my time.

This meant that meeting Alfie Solomons put him in an uncomfortable position- he had to come on time. And sometimes Alfie was there already, smug, or sometimes Alfie was late and dismissive about it, but with a stack of papers and grievances to make up the difference.

Tommy was continually unimpressed with the Jewish mobster, though you could color him surprised when word got out through the grapevine that Alfie Solomon had started going steady with some bird from the local flower shop.

He’d never figure him to be one to settle down, but those same rumors claimed that he ws continually trailing after her. Considering how…temperamental his associate could be, Tommy could believe it.

When Alfie actually entered the restaurant, Tommy reflected that the rumors must be true because the man was practically glowing. More importantly though, his usual stack of gripes was noticeably absent.

“Tommy-boy!” The man grunted, taking his seat at the table. There was already whiskey poured- courtesy of Tommy, of course.

“Alfie,” Tommy greeted, watching the man settle.

It was such a waste of his time to come here, and it took active work not to lose his temper about it. He could be home now

“So, to business. Would you like to begin?” Tommy offered magnanimously.

Alfie drank from his glass and winced at the taste. “Shit, that is,” he mused, shaking his head. “How’ve you been, Tommy? How’s life treated you?”

Suspicion colored Tommy’s thoughts. What was Solomons up to? Small talk wasn’t part of the meeting, ever. As if reading his thoughts, Alfie chuckled. “Don’t be like that, Shelby. I’ve been advised to try diplomacy.”

“By your new conquest?” Tommy countered. The expression on Alfie’s face closed off, and no longer was he looking at a man blatantly in love and feeling charitable to the whole world for it. It made things much easier to deal with. But a moment later, a sly smile crept across Alfie Solomon’s face, and Tommy wasn’t much fond of that expression.

“You’d know all about conquests, wouldn’t you, Tom?” Alfie folded his hands across his midsection and leaned back against his seat, leveling Tommy with a look just as cold.

Fury unfolded, and beside that, fear. What did that mean? Who had talked?

Chuckling, Alfie waved it off. “Now, there’s no need for that look, my good man. There’s been whispers, same as there have been for me. About a pretty girl. What’s her name?”

“We aren’t here to discuss women, Alfie.” Tommy said flatly, trying not to growl. From the corner of his eye, he could see Finn watching intently. He was waiting for a signal. No, he needed to reign it in.

Alfie was just intent on pushing his buttons though, grinning broadly, damn near leering at Tommy. “Well, her name’s Margaret.” His finger drummed against the glass, the ring he was wearing clinking methodically. “I doubt her name’s in your network, yeah? Every fucking thing else, but not that.” He shook his head. “Beautiful name.” And there was that lovesick look again.

“Is that all?” Tommy asked. What would it take to get the meeting back on track? Alfie eyed him, and reached into his coat-

Finn and Isaiah were drawing their guns, Alfie’s men were responding-

“SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” Alfie boomed, stilling the room. Tommy saw that what he’d withdrawn was his wallet.

“What are you planning, Solomons?” He asked, withdrawing a cigarette from his case.

The Camden bastard rolled his eyes and withdrew a photo. “Here,” he grunted, “have a look at this.” He handed it over to Tommy.

And honestly the last thing that Tommy expected to see was the image of a young woman posing for the camera. Rather lewdly, to put it mildly. Like a whore if you wanted to be blunt.

“My Margaret,” pride dripped from Solomons’ voice, like he hadn’t just shown off the parts of a woman that only her husband would see.

Tommy weighed his answers- would Solomons light up with fury if he complimented the woman? Or would he be offended if he didn’t? The trouble was that you never knew with him. He took a contemplative drag of his cigarette.

“Lovely,” he settled on.

Alfie scowled. “Oh like yours is any better,” he taunted. “C’mon, let’s see ‘er then.”

“I don’t have pictures of my woman on me, Alfie.” Tommy said, unable to stop the slight condescension from creeping into his tone, like he was talking to a child, or else someone very simpleminded.

“Well why the fuck not? How’m I s’posed to know if this woman exists, eh?” Alfie accused, smacking the table.

This was all very confusing honestly. What the hell was he playing at? “I didn’t claim she was real.”

“What man doesn’t have a picture of the woman he loves?”

“What man carries filthy pictures of his?”

“Oi mate, those are fuckin art!” Alfie argued with surprising vehemence. It was a strange hill to make a stand on, but hey, he could relate.

“Whatever you say, Alfie,” Tommy sighed and blew out another cloud of smoke.

It was raining now. Storm clouds had been gathering all of yesterday, and he’d been able to taste the moisture, along with the filth in the city air. Rain was ugly here, didn’t clean a fuckin’ thing. He found himself thinking, longingly of the estate. The Shelby Estate, a grander name than something like Arrow House. But little things like a name change kept your feet on the ground. Sylvia would be there, reading. It was raining, so she couldn’t ride today.

At first she’d hated being in the house. She’d wanted to be back in Birmingham. Always liked the action, wanted to support him. It had been charming before, but now that they were together, it couldn’t be tolerated. Too many risks.

“Are you fucking ignoring me, Tommy-boy?” Alfie’s voice was dangerous now, angry and short. Shit. He stubbed out the remains of his smoke in the ashtray.

“No, Alfie, I’m not ignoring you,” he said on the exhale. Clearly, he reflected, nothing was going to get done with this meeting. It was a shame, but at least that meant things were secure where they stood.

Either Solomons was happy or about to betray him again.

“So, I’ve told you about my Margaret, tell me about your girl.” Alfie ordered, pouring another drink.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Tom said, but at the disbelieving look on Alfie’s face, he shrugged slightly.

“I just don’t understand how a man can have a woman and not want to talk about her. Obviously you’ve heard how proud I am, but you? Are you ashamed?” It sounded like it was amusing- the idea that Tommy Shelby would be ashamed of anything in his life.

But the idea of being ashamed of Sylvia? That struck a nerve and that pissed him off properly.

“I’m not ashamed of her.” He snapped.

Alfie’s grin was positively disgusting. “So she does exist? Well, come now, what’s her name?”

For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he spoke begrudgingly, “Sylvia.”

“Sylvia, aye.” He nodded, turning it over. “She a gypsy like you?”

“No. She is not a gypsy.” Eye contact was key. “It wouldn’t matter either way.”

“So why don’t you talk about her? I could talk all day about mine, as I’m sure that you’ve noticed,” of course he had. “You move her in yet?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Tommy mocked, making Alfie roll his eyes.

“Neither of us are gentlemen, Tom, no matter how you fuckin’ pretend. I moved Margaret in almost right away, you know? We just, we just had this connection- I saw her and I wanted her. Sent her gifts every day, came into the store when I could- her smiles, they lit up my fuckin’ life.”

“I’ve never known you to be so open about your business, Alfie. Aren’t you worried that someone might overhear?” It wasn’t a threat, not at all, not for once. This hit a little too close to home for it to be anything more than idle curiosity, and luckily Solomons knew it.

“No, mate. I need her to know how much I love her. And I need other people to know. Because if someone thinks that they can hurt her? I will…” he laughed, and it didn’t sound sane at all, but it didn’t bother Tommy, “well fuck, I think I’d burn the fuckin’ city down. But,” and he looked at Tommy, and that affable, unstable mask came off for a moment, and Tommy was looking at the emptiness that came from the war, the same emptiness in every soldier who’d been in the field, “but I think you know that, don’t you Tom?” He sighed and shook his head. “I figured, hell, if anyone on this Earth knew what I felt- how far I’d go- it’d be you.. And you do, don’t you?”

Tommy thought about Sylvia. He always thought about Sylvia.

He did horrible things on a daily basis. What would he do if something happened to her?

And the thing was, Tommy didn’t even need to ask himself that question. He’d known the moment that he’d seen her what he’d do for her, what he’d already done. She was safe, that was what he told himself, she was under constant watch, by men he trusted, where he didn’t need to worry about someone running off with her, or an accident, or any of the things that could take her away.

“And you just keep her in an apartment?” He muttered.

“How else would I see her?” Alfie countered evenly. “I take it you don’t?”

Tommy didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to, not in the context of the question.

“No, no, the way I see it, it’s better that I can keep an eye on ‘er. I get to come home to a nice meal, lovely company, and everyone knows what’ll happen if they fuck with her. You keep yours,” and he pointed at his business associate, “in some isolated fuckin’ kingdom and what happens? People get curious. You can’t see her as often. She goes missing. There’s no fuckin’ neighbors to pay to keep watch.” And hell, that was actually a very good point, but he didn’t want to hear that from Solomons.

“Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Oh I fuckin’ disagree, mate. You don’t get that shit in hand-“

“And what might happen, Solomons?” Tommy asked calmly. He knew what this was- this was Solomons trying to knock him off his game, disturb him. And why? What the hell did Solomons have up his sleeve? “What are you planning?”

“Well I dunno mate.” The glass in Solomons’ hand was empty now, “what do you think I’m planning?”

“I think you’re just being a prick.” The other man barked out a laugh.

“Fair enough, so- grievances.”

And there it was.

When it was over, Tommy went over the meeting- all of it, bullshit included- in his head, thinking it over.

Alfie Solomons was a two faced bastard.

But Tommy found himself making plans to go visit Sylvia as a surprise, nonetheless.

#yandere peaky blinders #yandere alfie solomons #yandere tommy shelby

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dwimpala-67 · 3 years

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As Time Goes By

Written for @spnabobingo

Square Filled: Pack Courting

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Jared/Jensen

Word Count: 5365

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

Part 1

Part 2

The next day Jared was a nervous wreck. He had gone through everything in his wardrobe and he still couldn’t find suitable clothes to wear on his date with Jensen. His sister was watching him, amused at his antics. One moment he was speaking about how good he looks in blue jeans, and the next he was debating if blue would go with a pink button down or a cream one. If this wasn’t funny enough, he then started trying it on and suddenly realized that the black one was much better as it complemented the shape of his ass perfectly. He put on his tight black jeans and a cream shirt. He observed himself from all angles in the mirror and then looked over at his sister, a horrified expression on his face, already worried if he’s being too forward.

“What if he thinks I’m gonna put out on the very first date? He won’t think I’m a slut or something, would he? Does this look too tight? Should I wear my baggy jeans instead?” Jared rambled on.

It was such an adorable sight to watch. Her brother was an absolute mess and Margaret enjoyed every second of it. She couldn’t fault her brother though, because it was the first time that someone had asked him out. It was obvious that he was going to mess up. That was one of the reasons why she was sitting there in his room, trying to calm him down.

“Relax, big brother. You look just fine. In fact, this outfit is better than the pink and blue combination.” She made a face and Jared pouted at her.No matter how much everyone told him that pink was too girly, he loved that color on him. He rather thought it suited his tan skin better. He knew no matter how he dressed, no one would pay any attention to him. However, that didn’t stop him from dressing properly. At times, he dressed himself in pretty colors that brought out his features. He also loved to style his long chestnut-brown hair in different ways. Some days he tied it up in a bun. He did receive looks when he did that; mostly sour ones. But he didn’t care. He dressed to please himself. He had decided that it didn’t matter if no one appreciated him, he’d appreciate himself instead. It made him feel good about himself. However, that didn’t stop his brat Alpha sister from teasing him whenever he wore pink, or even a tank top for that matter. She always said he looked like a dork, but he rather enjoyed wearing those.

“But pink brings out my tan,” Jared insisted.

“No, JT, trust me. You don’t want the Alpha to think you’re weird.”

“That’s the point of the date, right? Getting to know each other. If he can’t accept me wearing pink, then there’s no point in going forward at all. I won’t submit to his wishes. He has to accept me just as I am. I won’t be changing myself.”

Margaret sighed. Her brother could be so stubborn sometimes. “Look, there’s plenty of time to get to know each other and still be yourself. But you don’t want his first impression of you to be a weird one. You want to impress the Alpha, not make him run for the hills.”

God, his sister could be such a hard-ass sometimes. She was an Alpha, and could never really understand Jared’s need to please himself and to be upfront with anyone he meets. After all, she didn’t have to face rejection the way he did. “No, Marge. He asked me out so it’s obvious that he needs to impress me. I didn’t ask him out.”

“That’s not how it works, JT. An Alpha always wants the Omega to impress him, show him why he or she can be a good partner, and submit to the Alpha’s expectation. It doesn’t matter who asks whom. All it comes down to is how the Omega presents in front of Alpha.”

Jared listened to his sister, shocked. How dare she talk about him submitting to Alphas? She was speaking exactly like the asshole Alphas he’d encountered all his life who were always telling him what to do. “How dare you? You’re just like all the stereotypical Alphas. How can you talk like that? Is submission all you Alphas care about? Does it even matter to you what the Omega feels?”

“JT, you’re crossing a line here. I’m just advising you for your own good.” Margaret spoke, a hint of edge to her voice. She was quickly losing her patience.

“No, you can’t make me…”

“Jared, don’t argue with me. You’re wearing the cream shirt and that’s final, ” she yelled at Jared, using her Alpha voice.

Hearing those words, Jared frozed. He couldn’t believe how his own sister was treating him. Jared always thought that even if she was the Alpha, she’d be different with him. Because she saw how it messed him up when he suffered rejection at the hands of all the Alphas in his pack. She had seen how hurt he had been, and she was well aware of his reasons to leave the pack and relocate to Australia. He was distraught that his own sister didn’t understand him. His Omega hormones were already screwing with him because of his nervousness over going on the first ever date in his life, and Margaret’s orders weren’t helping any.

Tears pooled in his eyes as he forced himself not to cower at her command and he shouted back, “Get out. Now.”

“Shit...JT. I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Margaret already hated herself for being so harsh on her brother. She never liked to hurt Jared, especially when he had been through so much. Although it wasn’t her intention to make him cry, he was definitely being stubborn.

Hearing the yelling, Sylvia Padalecki rushed into Jared's room. “What’s wrong? JT, oh my God , why are you crying, honey? What happened?”

Jared didn’t answer, he just embraced his mother tightly, seeking comfort in her arms. He was terrified. Terrified that he’d lose his only chance at finding a mate. He wanted it to be perfect and Margaret’s words had touched a nerve.

When he didn’t speak, his mother turned to her daughter, “Why is he crying, Marge?” She gently ran her hands down his back, trying to soothe him.

“Mom, I just...he wanted to wear a pink shirt and I wanted him to wear a cream one. One thing led to another, and I pointed out how Omegas should submit to their Alphas and then I yelled at him.”

“Margaret Anne Padalecki, how could you say that to him? Who are you to impose your views on your brother, who you forget is older than you. Just because you are an Alpha doesn’t mean you are free to impose yourself on anyone. Don’t you know he’s vulnerable right now. All his life…” she couldn’t say the words out loud. It had been a very hard time for all of them, watching Jared heartbroken and sad. Now her son was crying silently on her shoulder. “After going through so much, an Alpha asks him out and this is what you do? Remind him exactly how Alpha wolves can be such assholes? I didn't expect that from you.”

“Mom, I’m sorry but…”

“No buts. You may be an Alpha, but I’m your mother and you don’t intimidate me, young woman. Jared can wear whatever he wants. Now go, let him get ready.”

Margaret really felt sad for making Jared cry. She was just voicing her concerns. Being an Alpha, she knew what their expectations were when it came to Omegas. She simply wanted Jared to impress his Mate. She didn’t want Jared to be rejected by his own Mate for being a weirdo. But even she had to agree that she had overreacted. His family’s support was what he needed right now. She left the room quietly, feeling ashamed of what she had just done.

Sylvia calmed her son down and showered him with her love. Her poor child had endured so much. She could totally understand the reasons behind his outburst. Once Jared stopped crying, she peppered him with kisses on his forehead , much to his annoyance and urged him to relax and get ready. She knew her daughter only wished the best for her brother, but yelling at him was not the correct way to make him understand. Margaret had always been a brash child. Being the youngest, and also an Alpha, she was always pampered even by their extended family. She never had to face any problems, unlike Jared. Well, Sylvia decided she would just give her daughter a talk later. Right now, she needed Jared to relax and get ready for Alpha Jensen.

Jared was pacing in his room, looking at his hair every two minutes to check if it looked okay.

“Relax, Son . You look smart. The Alpha won’t know what hit him,” Greg Padalecki said, trying to hide his smile while looking at his adorable son. He was so happy. His son finally was going on a date, something which he never thought would happen.

“But Dad, I…” Jared didn’t get a chance to complete his thoughts as the doorbell rang. “He’s here.” Jared breathed, rubbing his clammy hands on his jeans. He had finally chosen a pink shirt with black jeans and his hair was combed neatly, the long reddish-brown wavy locks brushing his neck. His mother had gushed about how handsome he looked in the outfit. Even Greg had to agree it bought out Jared’s features.

Right now all that mattered to Jared was Jensen’s approval. The words of his younger sister were still fresh in his mind. They were another reason for his nervousness.

“I’ll go. ” Margaret jumped up from behind him and rushed to the door. “Good evening, Alpha.” She deferred to Jensen’s status as Pack Alpha. Had she not been Alpha herself, she would have totally drooled over him. Jensen was pure sex on legs. And she was Alpha enough to appreciate his beauty, despite the fact they were two Alphas who’d never have any feelings of that kind for each other.

“Good evening. May I come in?” Jensen gave an appreciative nod at her.

“Of course. Please.”

Jensen stepped inside and Jared's breath hitched. The scent of his mate permeated his senses and he found himself desperate to get the man’s attention. He watched as everyone in his family greeted the Alpha. The man was stunning in a blue button down and black jeans with brown boots. His hair was gelled and spiked. He was, simply put, gorgeous.

The moment Jensen’s eyes reached his, Jared was overcome with a feeling of want. His heart was running a mile a minute. He stared shamelessly, not even caring that he hadn’t yet greeted the Pack Alpha. Jensen, didn’t seem to mind much. He approached Jared slowly, like a predator eyeing his prey, and gave him a brilliant smile that brought out his eye crinkles.

“Hello, Jared. You look handsome ” Jensen said, handing him a bunch of blue orchids. “These are for you.”

Jared was blown away. “Thank you,” he said, furiously blushing, feeling heat pooling in his stomach as he ducked his head down and accepted the flowers. “These are beautiful . And you look amazing too, Alpha.”

“You can call me Jensen, Jared. Between us, as True Mates, we can forgo with the Pack formalities.”

Jared smiled at the Alpha’s declaration. “Alright, Jensen.” It felt so good to say his name. It felt right.

“Perfect. Now, would you please do me the honor of accompanying me on a date, Jared?” Jensen asked, holding out his hand, well aware that he was going above and beyond the general practices of wooing an Omega. He knew generally the Alpha would only greet the Omega and his family, shower him with gifts, and mate with him right away. However, Jensen didn’t believe in that. He was raised differently.

His father had sent Jensen to live with his maternal grandparents when he was five years old. They had taught him to be different from the general knot heads. It was at Copper Packlands that he studied Pack dynamics, and his grandparents taught him that an Omega was the most important member in pack hierarchy. It was the Omegas who carried their future generations, something which the Alphas, for all their holier than thou attitude, weren’t capable of doing. His grandma, Lyla Cooper, had taught him to respect Omegas and treat them equally. That’s why he believed his actions were not only baffling to Jared, but to his family as well.

“I most definitely would, Jensen.” Jared gave him a shy smile and took the offered hand. His eyes went wide when Jensen kissed the knuckles on his hand and led him out.

They drove out to a small diner called “The Shack ”. It was actually a small building turned into a diner near the lake. It was new for Jared, which meant it must have opened up in the last six years while he was off in Australia. There was a small reception area where you’d ask for a table and then a waiter would accompany them up the wooden stairs, crossing a small bridge towards the sitting area. It was comfortable and classic. Jared had to give it to Alpha Jensen for choosing this place.

Once they were seated, Jared took in the view. The ceiling was Victorian high and made of bamboo and hay. They were given a corner seat which gave them direct access to the lake side view. There were candles and lanterns lit everywhere in the restaurant which gave the room a romantic private look. The street lights near the lake gave it a luminous glow which made Jared fall in love with the place.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Jared spoke up first. Their table had a candle holder decorated with pink and white roses. The napkins were a rich shade of maroon and the plates were a complimenting shade of white, adding to the ambience.

“You like it? It was opened by my friend Mike three years ago. He was looking for a place to start up, and got this idea of giving his customers an experience of dining in a hut. An actual hut.”

That sounded a bit odd. “A hut?” Jared asked.

“Don’t ask me man, that guy has crazy ideas. So I persuaded him to instead go for a shack-like structure that would complement this view. He readily agreed. We had our architect friend Chris design it for him because, trust me, no one wants Mike to decide anything. If he had a chance he’d open an “Come Naked, Eat Naked” restaurant. Where everyone would be asked to come without clothes.”

Jared laughed. This Mike seemed to be a curious guy.

Jensen was struck by Jared’s beauty. He looked gorgeous with his head thrown back, laughing at Jensen’s retelling of Mike’s ideas. His Alpha puffed in pride at having made his mate laugh like that, without Hesitation. The pink shirt brought out his tan and he practically glowed in the candlelight. “You should wear pink all the time. It suits you,” he softly said.

Jared stopped talking immediately. He looked at Jensen for a minute, trying to find any hint of a mocking tone behind his words, but he was surprised to find that the Alpha’s words were genuine. Especially if the shy look on his face was anything to go by. “Really?

“Yes, it looks simply perfect on you.”

“My sister thought I shouldn’t wear pink. She said you’d find me weird and would never go out on a date with me again.” Jared spoke, eyes downcast, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Is that right?” Jensen asked, curious about that line of thought.

“Yes, she said that pink is a girly color,” Jared mumbled, afraid Jensen might just agree with his sister’s opinion . But he needed to know what the Alpha thought . “And that Omegas should only wear things that please Alphas. That Alphas only care about the Omega’s ability to appease them.”

Jensen wanted to find every single one of the assholes who had bullied Jared. He had done his research on Jared Padalecki. He had talked to his council members and Jared’s school mates who were still living in the Pack to understand the reason behind Jared’s escape to Australia. It hurt his heart to see how the beautiful boy sitting in front of him was emotionally scarred. He specifically wanted to deck Margaret Padalecki for telling Jared what to do. Not that he would, she was an Alpha too, and a female at that. But he had the strongest urge to lecture her about manners. It was obvious that the boy had taken those words to his heart.

Jensen reached out and held Jared’s other hand which was playing with the napkin and he spoke softly, “Jared, that's a bunch of bullshit. I was raised differently. Trust me when I say I’m not like any Alpha that you must have encountered, growing up in our pack. My father sent me to stay with my maternal grandparents so that I could be raised in an environment free of any prejudices due to being heir to Ackles Pack. And my grandma taught me all the things that have shaped my ideology, not only as an Alpha but as Pack Alpha too. I guess you were already gone when I took over?”

A mere nod prompted Jensen to speak further. “I’ve brought about a series of changes to the Pack so far and I’m planning on reforming this Pack inside out. I know my father is a traditionalist, but I’m not. I believe that an Alpha should always put the wishes of his Omega above all others. As an Alpha’s mate, his Omega is the most important person in his life. Without his mate, an Alpha can never attain his full potential. You’re my equal Jared. You’re the one wolf who has the ability to control me. I’m at your mercy Jared, and not the other way around. Your wish is my command. I would be the happiest wolf ever if you’d allow me to love you, cherish you, and make you happy. So, Jared, would you give me a chance to

win your heart?”

Jared was floored. His conception of being with an Alpha had been shaped because of his past. To see that his man was so different than what he had encountered so far made him believe that this was the wolf who’d maybe give Jared a chance at finding his happily ever after. “You’re different, aren’t you?” Jared asked him, staring back at the intense green gaze that peered through to his soul.

“It’s the first of many instances to come. And by the way, your sister’s a fool if she thinks pink is a girly color. It perfectly suits you, and I’m jealous that people other than me can look at you wearing pink. You look handsome, Jared.”

All Jared was able to do was blush at those words. Really, what more could he say? Jensen’s words washed over his conscience, soothing the turmoil within him. If this wolf was his mate, he was happy that he’d found him even if it had taken so long .

“So, what were you doing at my home last night?”

Jared felt a rush of guilt at hearing that question. He had meant to go and talk to Jensen about his brother and his best friend. Instead, he had stumbled into his True Mate and forgotten everything else! “I..umm..I wanted to talk to the Pack Alpha about my brother and his mate.”

“Your brother, huh? Joseph Padalecki, I assume?”

“Yes. I ….I hadn’t been living in the Pack for the past five years, and unfortunately my family didn’t tell me anything that went on with my brother during that time. Apparently he was in love with Chad the whole time. I just didn’t know about it.”

“And when the incident happened with the rogue human, the Murrays disowned their own son.”

“Yes, I am surprised...I mean, I know they always despised Chad for being a male Beta. He’s the first male Beta born in their family in twenty years. And his father is kind of an…”

“An asshole. Yeah I know. I know that very well.”

Jensen had that tone to his voice which meant he’d had an experience with them, piquing Jared’s curiosity, “Why ? Did you run into trouble with them?”

“Oh yeah,” Jensen replied, sipping his wine slowly. “Jay, you have to understand that within the last two years I’ve been trying to change the Pack law and the ways the Pack perceives fertile Betas and Omegas. I banned the public mating ceremony. I mean, most of the Packs have started letting go of the archaic traditions, but here quite a few tried to create trouble when I proposed to ban the public claiming. Murrays created quite a stir, but they didn’t know what they were up against.” Jensen’s eyes turned a golden green, just a flash of the Alpha’s rage.

“Oh My God! What did you do then?”

“Let’s just say that Peter Murray never dared to cross me after that.”

“I see.”

“So, your brother mated Chad Murray. They wanted to have a little distance from the Pack but still remain on Pack grounds, stay members of the Pack. Unfortunately, my father wouldn’t allow that. He demanded they stay right where they were. So finally Joseph and Chad felt like they had no other alternative than to give up their standing in the Pack and move away,” Jensen continued, trying to gauge Jared’s mood.

“Yeah. But Chad lost the ability to conceive! He was a fertile male Beta without the ability to get pregnant! Everyone picked on him and he was vilified by the Murrays and their supporters. So you see Chad needed to get away from the Pack and he had a right to do that because he had to heal. Had he stayed in this Pack he would have lost his sanity!”

Jensen heard the concern and worry in Jared’s voice and saw just how distressed the situation made his mate. “Wow, I didn’t know that happened. I mean I knew Chad was attacked, but I wasn’t aware that he can't conceive anymore. Jay, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry my father forced them to leave instead of understanding the situation. I heard your family was quite supportive of Chad after the incident. And my stubborn father took away the only connection your brother and mate had to this Pack.”

“It’s not your fault. But I wanted to talk to Alpha Anton and ask him how he could do this to them. All his life, my brother protected me against all the bullies and when he and his mate needed Alpha Anton’s protection, no one paid attention to him. He was forced to leave this Pack, Jensen!”

“I’m so sorry Jay, I can’t even begin to realize just how devastating it must have been for you.”

“Can you ...can you do something?”

“Jared, I won’t deny that what my father did was wrong, but it’s been a long time and I don’t think your brother, or even Chad for that matter would even consider coming back to this Pack. Too much bitterness must have settled in by now. But if it means so much to you, I promise I’ll reach out to him to see what he thinks. Maybe we can reinstate their Pack status and let them live wherever they are living at the moment. I just hope they haven’t yet accepted protection from another Pack.”

That thought had never crossed Jared’s mind, and he hoped that his brother hadn’t done that. “I just wanna meet with them, Jensen. I never had a chance to console them.”

“I understand, Sweetheart . I’ll see what I can do. Now can you smile for me? That dimpled one?” Jensen smirked as he watched Jared give him a brilliant smile that outshone the sun.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Jared had relaxed as the night progressed. They had a lot to talk about as they shared almost all the same interests. The wine Jensen ordered had been exquisite and the steak was to die for. The entire meal was delicious. Especially the dessert. The chocolate soufflé was the best, and immediately became Jared’s new favorite. They had left the shack, holding hands, satisfied, with a feeling of togetherness blooming between them.

“I had a great time tonight,” Jared said as they parked in front of his house.

“Me too,” Jensen said, and brushed his knuckles against Jared’s cheek, already loving the shy smile.

“So…”

“So, we should do this again,” Jensen suggested, a hopeful look on his face.

“Definitely we should. Rather we must.” Jared insisted, smiling wide as his dimples showed up. He laughed as Jensen poked one of them. He didn’t want to let go of Jensen just yet.

“Would you call me territorial if I walked you to your door?” It was as if Jensen could read his mind.

“Not at all.”

They got out of the car and slowly made their way to the Padalecki residence, walking closely, hands brushing slightly and goofy smiles on their faces. Once they were at the door, Jensen once again rang the bell. “Jensen, I have the key.”

Jensen just winked at him, leaving Jared confused as to what the Alpha had planned on doing.

Jared was wondering what Jensen was planning when the door opened and Sylvia Padalecki greeted them. “Oh, Jared you're back. And Alpha, please come in.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Padalecki. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you and Greg.”

That made Jared’s eyebrow go up. His mother looked at him, questioning, but he merely shrugged. They both headed towards the living room and sat down on the couch. That’s when his mind started spinning. Jensen never mentioned talking to his parents. Insecurity set in and his mind went through all the possible scenarios. Was Jensen leaving him? Was he planning on telling his parents just how stupid he was? After all, he had no idea how to behave on a date, and had he done something stupid to upset Jensen? Jensen didn’t seem upset though. But why didn’t Jensen say something to him?

Jensen put his hand on the small of his back and tugged him closer. “Relax Jared. I can hear those wheels churning in your head. It’s nothing bad, promise.”

Jared sighed and leaned into Jensen. “I know. Years of rejection and bullying have left a pile of insecurities behind. It’ll take some time to put them behind me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jensen assured him. “There they are.”

They stood up as Jared’s parents, along with his sister entered the room.

“Welcome Alpha. Please take a seat. How may I help you?” Greg Padalecki spoke, a little apprehensive about this meeting.

“Alpha Greg, I would like your blessing and permission to publicly court your son and declare him my Intended Mate.” It was a tradition that when an Alpha found his true mate, he had to declare them as their intended and court them publicly. Once the pair was comfortable with each other, the claiming ceremony would take place.

Everyone was shocked and that included Jared. His mouth fell open and his parents were looking at Jensen, wide eyes shining with tears.

“Of course, Alpha. You have our blessings.” Sylvia spoke, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “Oh Alpha, you don’t know how much that means to us.”

“Alpha, for so long we thought our boy would never find a mate and never settle down. But you are like a breath of fresh air in his life. So, of course as long as Jared is okay with it, you have our blessings.”

Jensen smiled at them, “Thank you. I promise you, with me Jared will always be cherished and safe. I’ll do everything in my power to keep him happy. As my mate, he’s the most important person in my life.” He turned towards Jared then, smiling at the red and tearful face, “Jared, Sweetheart, please don’t cry.”

Jared hiccupped. He didn't know when he started crying but he’s pretty sure it was during his father’s speech. He had accepted the loneliness that had filled his life. He had resigned himself to never finding a mate. And within two days not only did he have a True Mate, but his mate wanted him just as much. “Happy tears,” he said, giving out a choked laugh.

Jensen shook his head a little and cupped Jared’s face, wiping away the tears with his thumb. “I do need your permission too, you know.”

Jared gave out a wet laugh, somewhere between a sob and a chuckle. “Yes, yes, damn it.”

His happiness knew no bounds as Jensen sealed the deal by pressing his full lips against Jared's. It was a very soft kiss just brushing their lips together really. But it meant the world to Jared. “Thank you, Jay.'' Jared threw himself in Jensen’s arms as he hugged the man to his chest and sobbed with relief and happiness, letting loose years of pent-up emotions.

Once Jared calmed down, Jensen spoke again, “You okay?”

“More than.”

“Alright. Before I go, “ Jensen said as he turned towards Jared’s family, “ I’d like to talk to Margaret.” He saw when she tensed up immediately and his wolf chuckled internally. Good, that’s exactly how she should feel for saying those words to Jared. “I’d appreciate it if you'd stop imposing your ideas on him. If he wants to wear pink, let the damn man wear pink. Look at him, he looks hot.”

Jensen enjoyed both the horrified and shameful look on Margaret and the blushing red shade on Jared.

“Sorry, Alpha, I was just trying to...I know what Alphas’ want from their mate and I just…”

“Well, next time I’d like it if you kept your opinions to yourself and not assume what you ‘think’ Alphas want from their mates. I was raised differently, and I'm perfectly okay with him wearing anything he wants. If I don’t have any problem with it, then neither should you,” Jensen said in a no-nonsense tone. He understood that she was just looking out for her brother, but the fact that she’d hurt Jared had been enough for him to leap to his mate’s defense.

Margaret was flustered. “Yes, Alpha. I’m sorry. I’m sorry JT, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s alright, Marge. I should probably be used to your brattiness.” Jared joked, trying to tone down the tension in the room. It seemed to work as everyone smiled.

“Alright, tomorrow I’ll call the town hall meeting and inform the Pack about us. Until then, Jay, you have my number. If you need anything, just call me or even leave a text. I’ll be right here.” Jensen said, grabbing Jared in a bear hug. “I don’t want to go, but I have to leave. See you tomorrow, Jared.”

Jared followed his Intended out and bid Jensen goodbye before he drove out in his car towards Ackles Mansion. He closed the door behind him and the moment he entered the living room, he was engulfed in a group hug by his family. They were crying and laughing and speaking all at once, congratulating him on finding his mate. Jared accepted their well wishes and Margaret’s apology. Once they left him alone, his sister giggled.

“What?”

“JT, your mate is so damn hot. You’re one lucky wolf.”

His parents agreed and the three of them started chatting about the two handsome men mating together and how it was unfair to all the females. Jared just rolled his eyes at his crazy family.

But he couldn’t fault them. He was truly happy for the first time in his life.

to be continued

#spnabobingo #spn fic #J2 FANFICTION #Supernatural RPF

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alwayshailing87 · 4 years

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It’s time I talk about this.

I created a new tumblr because no one needs to see the sock drawer of content on my older account. I’ll start fresh here.

I had contemplated writing a blog post for a while. There’s been so much weighing heavy on my mind that I just needed to get out to begin with. The decision to finally open up was sort of inspired by a friend’s social media post earlier this week. It touched on fears of abandonment, and anxiety. I felt the need to talk about my own fears. I’m coming to the realization that I’m in much greater pain than I let on.

2019 could have been considered a comeback year for me in a lot of ways. I committed to the fitness journey. I broke free from years of emotional abuse and manipulation. I found my spark again, my inner comedienne. I’ve expanded my circle and have some truly incredible friends at my side. I’ve connected with some genuine people that I’d love to keep in my life. Sky’s the limit, right?

As 2019 came to a close I recalled all of these victories, and yet it was the loneliest I had felt. It was the most...broken...that I had felt. I’m thankful for my mom and all of the hugs she gave me while I was home. There were nights during the Christmas season where I would just well up with tears because I felt so alone. She sort of chalked it up to me missing my grandparents, as I always do at Christmas. But I was too embarrassed to explain that there was more.

Circle back to the mention of emotional abuse. Without getting into dirty details, some of which are of my own fault, I was lured into a situation where a man I trusted took advantage of my heart and my mind. Freshly devastated from the sudden passing of my Grammy in 2013, he white-knighted his way into my world. Promises of protection, love, to “treat me the way I had always deserved to be treated”. He wanted to “tear down my walls”. Lots of that stuff that makes a depressed, vulnerable woman feel like someone gives a shit.

Months prior to this, I stared down a flowing Monongahela from the railing of the Birmingham bridge. I couldn’t do it, obviously. I was in rough shape mentally but asking myself over and over “what would happen to Sylvia” seemed to keep me from ending my life. To have someone essentially reach out a hand to you and vow to be your protector and love you, it would be insanity to not grab that hand and hold on with everything you have left.

He knew of the several times I had been ghosted, or stood up on dates. Blown off on dating sites, and just treated like trash in general. I’m a chubby girl who’s a few eons off from a model body. His whole act was to shower me with affection and I fell for every single fucking bit of it.

When I think back on this, I think of these words and phrases that were said to me: Soul mate. Gorgeous. Dream girl. The perfect woman. Best friend. The greatest thing that ever happened to me. And there was friendship. Laughter. Humor that spanned from highbrow to lowbrow and every terrible pun in between.

Stupidly enough I fell in love. And I loved fiercely, as I do with anyone I care about. I offered up my unwavering loyalty. See, the thing is...I’ve gone through my life dedicating myself to my loved ones as a fierce family member and friend. There have been so many times in my life where I felt alone or unwanted, that I vowed to make sure anyone who settled into my circle would never feel the way I have felt. This was no different.

As expected (and in retrospect, thankfully) this whole thing came crashing down. I found out I was one warm body out of multiple. And that’s when things for me started to deteriorate.

Being toggled back and forth between “I still love you” and “You’re one of the best things in my world” and “I don’t want you in my circle anymore” will eventually warp your mind. Even as a friend, the loyalty given due to the history was thrown out like a used sock. The memories and the bond meant nothing. I began to think I deserved it as punishment for the mistakes I’ve made in my life. Maybe I did or still do. In the aftermath of this, I was on suicide watch. To be outright rejected and shunned by the very person who vowed with everything he was to be THAT person for you, you wonder if you were ever worth anything at all. If your white knight tells you that he doesn’t care about you anymore, then maybe you’re just not worth any man’s time. That maybe you’re just not worth anything, period.

It’s weird now, being able to step out of a situation and say “hey, he was a piece of shit and all of this was toxic”, while also being pretty emotionally damaged because now you feel like any man who expresses any sort of liking towards you is lying. And when you feel fat and disgusting on a frequent basis, you’re highly skeptical of a good looking guy finding you attractive and not chasing some dime of a babe elsewhere.

In the time since I’ve freed myself from the bullshit, I’ve heard those similar words. Gorgeous. Perfect. Beautiful sassy funny and any word in between that makes me think a man might truly and whole-heartedly value a single shred of my existence. And while it feels wonderful, and hearing it makes me smile, my brain retreats back to the feeling of “He’s just saying that while he probably bangs or flirts with a bunch of other women. You know that you’re nothing compared to other smokeshows who are in his league”.

So when the messages go silent, or plans to go out on a date fall through, half of my brain says “he’s busy” or “things happen, it’s okay”, the other half gets back on its bullshit, and I assume the worst. Because it’s all I know.

All I know are lies. Just lies. Lies and excuses and half-assed answers and secrets. I don’t think any man has ever been proud to have me. And it’s brought me to this place where I feel alone and unwanted. It’s brought me paranoia and crippling anxiety. I’m scared of destroying the fledgling of a relationship(?) I have going because I have been so destroyed by lies that it’s so hard for me to believe people. And that terrifies me. The last thing I want to do is push someone away because I know that what I have to give in a relationship is pure and genuine. I try so hard to fight the irrational fear and BELIEVE what is being said to me. Even now I’m a crying mess as I type this, because the one I’ve been talking to...I can’t begin to express how I felt when I saw his huge smile in real time. It was a smile that completely took my breath away. It was a smile that was so genuine and it brought me pure joy when I saw it.

That kind of joy, those “butterflies” that someone feels in moments like that? I felt it. For a while I wasn’t sure if I could feel anything like that again. I think of that smile and I grin to myself all over again, and yet my heart sinks because I’m scared that it will disappear for someone better. Because I am always the second or third choice...or just not the choice at all.

For some reason the holidays just amplified the loneliness. I think of curling up with my someone at Christmas and enjoying the warmth and the lights. I’ve wanted that for so long, and I’m so tired of being alone. I’m just tired. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not worth a man’s honesty or time. The fear and worry that I’ll be told to get lost by someone I care about - again - is like a vice grip in my chest. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Sometimes tears just flow out of my eyes and I’m not even moving. It’s not just a fear of losing someone you genuinely want in your life, but it’s also the fear that the devil in your head is right; that you really are ugly, worthless and unwanted.

And I know the only way I can begin to combat it is therapy. There’s zero shame in admitting that I need to go back. My therapist helped me through the first phase of healing form the toxicity and abuse. But now I need to learn to handle the constant fears of abandonment. I tried to fight it for the last couple of months but I just can’t do this on my own. I just want to heal. There are so many parts of me that are strong and grounded, and I feel like this is the one piece of me that still hasn’t recovered from the trauma.

I’ve been told never to apologize for my fears and my trauma because it was, and is real, but I still feel a need to express some level of remorse because this is not the best version of me. I don’t take pride in the reactions I’ve had. I can only humbly ask for patience as I work through this.

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parf-fan · 5 years

Text

Ask and ye shall fucking receive, bitches!!!

Oh yeah, that’s right, the cast lists have been posted! Moreover, posted IN FULL! Actors, character names, character professions, and chARACTER DESCRIPTIONS HOLY SHIT!!!!1!!

Once again, I have done my best to sort the Bacchanalians by track. It was much more challenging than last year (and took a good deal longer), where I only mixed up two. The music track is easy, of course, but combat and improv are another matter. In the end, I simply could not decide for a fair number, and these are listed in a separate section.

A small note, I had to copyedit the FUCK out of these descriptions. Man, I dunno, I think their apostrophe key was maybe busted? and there were loads of misspellings, a few missing spaces, and occasionally just the wrong word entirely. If anyone with any sort of influence on the Faire’s website happens to see this, PLEASE go back and fix these errors.

As always, check the Faire’s website for headshots. And also for the scenario, I guess, because I just realized I never got around to making a post about that.

Leads

Mary Huff : Queen Elizabeth I – Queen of England

Young and full of hope for the future of her country, Queen Elizabeth I is eager to take part in the day’s festivities and to learn more about the people she is meant to rule. Though she is youthful in appearance, she should not be underestimated. Queen Elizabeth I is intelligent, quick-witted and does not suffer fools lightly.

Joshua Kachnycz : Robert Dudley – Master of Horse

Wealthy and benevolent, this Englishman seeks to ensure everything is perfect for the Queen’s coronation day. Though he is a strong, independently wealthy, and capable man, he is not afraid to listen to and heed a woman’s opinion, which quickly makes him one of Queen Elizabeth I most trusted advisors and friends. [Listen I am so glad this man is returning, he is such a joy to watch act.] [Zis is pleasink to me!]

Alex Stompoly : Henry Carry – Nobleman

Cousin to Elizabeth I, Henry Carey has a claim to the English throne and is not likely to let you forget it. While he ultimately wants what is best for the country, he doesn't always have the hearts of the ordinary citizens he represents at the forefront of his political strategy. It may take him a while to believe that such a young Queen can be a strong leader. [OH FUCK YEAH ALEX IS THE VILLAIN THIS IS EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED]

Combat

Sunny Vinsavich : Bev Tanningrove – Tanningrove Family Muscle

When carousing with friends, she is playful and carefree; but this cousin to Jack Tanningrove is quick to anger if she suspects you of disrespecting the Tanningrove name. Bold and hot-blooded, it doesn't take much to convince her to enter into a brawl to defend her house.

Emily Wirthwein : Sylvia Forel – Sword Mistress

As lethal as she is lovely, this German Master Swordswoman is renowned throughout Europe. If you are lucky enough to have her in your employ, you can expect her complete loyalty and services as a sellsword – as long as you aren't outbid by a wealthier party. [Oh good, the German mercenaries are back.]

Mel Angelo : Mary McBride – Dance Mistress of the Shire

Best friend to Rose Hopfield, this dancing mistress makes a loyal, dependable, and energetic companion. Shire folk beware: don't call her a coward or insult the Hopfields, else you might find yourself face to face with the pointy end of her sword.

Ilana Lo : Fan Liu – Pirate

Running away from home at the age of thirteen, Fan Liu spent her formative years as a member of pirate crews in many different countries. Because of these varied experiences and her own innate charm, Fan Liu is a brilliant negotiator, easily able to talk people into doing just about anything she asks. And if they make the mistake of not doing as she asks, they will soon face her steel.

Leigh Loureiro : Bonnie Buchanna – Pirate

A formidable opponent who can fight, curse, and drink just as well if not better than her male counterparts. Nicknamed ‘Bloody Bonnie’ for her reputation of leaving no survivors, many would be surprised to learn that she secretly has a soft spot for soft and cuddly critters. But,please, don't tell her we told you!

Amanda Darrigo : Mistress Quickley – Tavern Keeper

Thrilled at finally fulfilling her dream of opening her own tavern, this little lady isn’t shy about inviting people in or delegating responsibilities to her subordinates. In fact, she loves being a boss so much she might try to hire you to manage the day-to-day operations so she can focus on big-picture items: like how to spend her hard earned ducats.

Sean Besecker : Captain James Thatch – Captain of The Queen's Vengeance

Thatch grew up on pirate ships watching and learning from the best sea-robbers in the business, so it is no surprise that he is one of the most ruthless and cutthroat pirates to sail the seven seas. While polite society would consider him uncivilized, he does live his life adhering closely to a very important set of rules: the Piratical Code. [pyrate ship count: 1]

Matthew Glen Clark : Bartholomew Wainwright – Yeoman

Dark and brooding, the mysterious Bartholomew Wainwright is often mistaken as cynical when a better term for him would be logical. He makes decisions using his brain and not his heard – the same cannot be said for some of his fellow Yeoman.

Austin James : Edward Mawson – First Mate

With knowledge of the civilized world, Edward Mawson, sometimes referred to as Maw, is the perfect First Mate to his unruly Captain. He is easily able to represent the Captain at important affairs and likes to mingle with the upper crust of society. In fact, he likes it so much that he dreams of bettering his own position so that he might one day join them.

Music

The Sirens

Sarah Bartley : Captain Sheena Daley O'Connell – Captain of The Unyeilding Tempest

The Leader. She is bold, brave, fearless and knows the world of piracy like the back of her well-worn hands. Sheena actively attempts to keep the peace in ORC but enjoys looting and pillaging as much as her fellow captains. Her deeds are heroic, but often tall in nature! Ask her to tell you all about when she saved her entire crew with a single plank of wood. She will regale you. [pyrate ship count: 2]

Leigh Anne Hamlin : Captain Scarlett Seymour – Captain of The Shadow of Prophecy

The Joker. She is laid back, extremely confident but relentlessly lazy. Scarlett always cracks jokes and makes light of difficult situations. She has been a pirate all her life and she is damn good at it! She is fond of long naps, drinking and gambling. Whats her secret? Good luck and tons of it! [Four things. First, pyrate ship count: 3. Second, presuming she named he ship herself, I guarantee that this character is queer, because that’s the most Extra ship name ever, and only us queer folk are that overdramatic. Three, prophesy? seymour? see-more? r u kidding me? Four: if you go look at her headshot, this actor bears an uncanny resemblance to Vanessa Sterling.]

Megan Jones : Captain Ruth "The Blade" Gibson – Captain of The Jolly Walrus

The Wild Card. She is tough, blunt, and has a wee bit of a rage problem. Although she loves piracy and has the scars to prove it, she melts at the sight of children and cuddly animals, who have the ability to soften her strong demeanor. Do not dare question her about the name of her ship! Shes sensitive about it. [Oh hell yeah, Megan Jones is a pyrate! I am very pleased about this. Also, pyrate ship count: 4.]

Sarah Williams : Captain Elanor Keetly – Captain of The Malevolence

The newly appointed Captain of The Malevolence. The innocent. She has inherited her newfound position of Captain after all the members of her crew mysteriously perished in a tragic maritime accident. She has a thirst for knowledge and craves to be the very best in her new career! Elanor is extremely enthusiastic, but a bit frightened of the weight of her new position. She has a malicious alter ego named Cookie. [Well, that certainly took at turn at the last line! Pyrate ship count: 5, and whomever named this vessel was definitely queer, too.]

The Irish Revels

Autumn Sheffy : Siobhán O'Sullivan – Royal Music Tutor

Having left the rest of her family behind to seek her fortune, this maestro has ascended to the ranks of the English court! Surely she wouldn't lord this success over the rest of her siblings...

Jordan Bell : Gilda O'Sullivan – Musician

Gilda is an optimistic and charismatic leader. She hasn't the time for negativity or ill will amongst her siblings, so she simply pushes through it with a bright smile. She is a perfectionist and an overachiever. She adores music and her siblings, despite their failings, and will do anything to make sure the festival day goes off without a hitch. She has the color-coded scrolls to prove it! because what are we, animals?

Morgan Harwood : Alannah O'Sullivan – Musician

Alannah is kind, carefree, and a bit odd. She is the youngest of the quintuplets and the most connected to the universe. She has the ability to see magic creatures and is often overtaken by her imagination. Her magic touch can calm her siblings when the time arises. The music she performs grounds her back in reality. She doesn’t walk, she floats. [Whelp, this character obviously has a connection to the fae, so she’s definitely Autistic.]

Jared Haverdink : Keagan O'Sullivan – Musician

Keagan is a realist, has an excellent sense of humor, and is endlessly sarcastic. He has a bit of the ol’ Irish temper that is easily set off by small things. The most talented musically of the O’Sullivan siblings, he was always very skilled, but has recently improved dramatically, almost overnight. His siblings are suspicious he has made a deal with a sea witch for his newfound shredding skills. [I’m so glad that last sentence exists.]

Joey Mudd : Deklyn O'Sullivan – Musician

Deklyn, like his sister Gilda, is a very friendly and charismatic young musician. He is full of life, energy, joy and is extremely earnest. However, he does tend to worry, and his imagination takes hold, extrapolating the smallest misstep that could lead to the doom of his family. Frequently stares into the middle distance, right between the crucial and the trivial, between existential dread and I’ll take the dressing on the side. [The Millennial™]

The Rakish Rogues

Christopher Burch : Sterling Armstrong – Highwayman, Leader of Group

The leader of this merry band of misfits. He is bold, ambitious, but a tad arrogant. Sterling fancies himself as a ladies’ man, but when approached by a woman, he can’t always follow through. His leadership style is that of blind intuition. His British dialect is very put-on and manly, but he often slips into Cockney, his real voice, when angered. Sterling doesn't walk, he glides. Is that his real name or did he make it up? [FUCK YEAH THEY DID THE THING THEY PUT HIM ON THE MUSIC TRACK YESSSSSS!]

Chase Brackett : Tucker Abbot – Highwayman, Sterling's Protégé

A former homeless orphan who was adopted by Sterling Armstrong as his younger brother and protégé . He absolutely worships the ground his brother walks on. Tucker is very bright, optimistic, and somewhat naïve. He is completely unaware when he says filthy and inappropriate things. Sterling said it so it must be fine! He loves the life of crime, but mostly he just wants to find a beautiful lady and sing songs to her pretty face forever. [This character description has newsie energy.]

Pete Hedberg : Jeremiah Slight – Highwayman, Sterling's Right-Hand Man

He is the muscle of the group, but secretly the brains. Jeremiah is the only person keeping this group afloat, but he would rather stick to the shadows than be in the limelight. He is excellent at thievery and a master of disguise. If you get close enough to find out how many accents he can do, you may not live to tell the tale! [*laughs in a decade of faire accents*] [also slight is the right hand man? slight of hand? fuck you.]

Ian Agnew : William "Bill" Crimson – Highwayman, former Benadictine Monk

A former Benedictine monk who was living a pious life in an abbey. He one day was hit in the head with a bible, decided to leave the cloth and turn to a more exciting life of crime. He adores his new lifestyle and lives it with absolutely no restraint or regret. Bill has a newfound love of drinking, women, and gambling. He may have a few loose screws, but he’s never been happier. [So there’s a good bit to unpack there. Kind of like a reverse Cadfael.]

Improv

Sheila Barton : Lady Delores Anne Penburthy – Lady Mayor of Mount Hope

Effervescent and vivacious, the Lady Mayor is sure to give Queen Elizabeth I the warm and generous welcome deserving a ruler of England. Having earned the love of the townspeople, the Lady Mayor could teach the young Queen a thing or two about earning the trust and loyalty of her people.

Adam Shepley : William Cecil – Advisor to the Queen

Her Majesty’s most stalwart advisor, and head of her privy council. Usually the smartest man in the room, and well aware of it, Cecil knows Elizabeth will be a good queen. Honestly after her sister Mary, things can only go up.

Joe Penn : Jacob Perry – Sheriff of Mount Hope

He loves putting away bad guys and solving mysteries. The only mystery he cant solve: how to grow up. [Oh. Hell. Yeah.]

Jonathan Handley : Sir William Pickering – Nobleman

Well educated, well bred, well connected. William Pickering has studied at the best schools, spent time among the French court, and is a good friend of Queen Elizabeth; but surely he would never let those things go to his head. He is still a man of the people, with his finger on the gilded pulse of the court.

Rob Condas : William Shakespeare – Apprentice Glover

Everyone needs gloves, and serving all levels of society has made young Bill a keen observer of the human condition. He has heard many stories, and feels that he has many stories to tell. He’d like to try his hand at playwrighting – maybe he can wrangle up some actors to try out a new play or two. [This is absolutely genius, because if we remain in the same universe for a couple years, we’ll get to see his transition to fully-fledged playwright!]

Adam Kampouris : Christopher "Kit" Marlowe – Playwright

Full of charm and swagger, this playwright can woo a hundred paramours without running out of pickup lines; finish several thousand tankards of ale without retiring for bed; and accomplish almost any task without exerting too much effort; but he cannot seem to finish a play. He is hoping Mount Hope Shire will provide him the inspiration he needs to pen his next masterpiece.

Kelsey Jefferies : Gretchen Froman – Heir to the Sausage Throne

Her parents have newly acquired a fortune from their successful Sausage empire, and they like to flaunt it! Fortunately for them, their daughter is responsible enough for both of them and makes sure they don’t blow it all in a single shopping trip. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy some of the perks – just that she is the only one of the three with some class about it. [For context, see the Blackfryars’ descriptions.]

Noelani Stevenson : Eskarina Nutter – Wise Woman

This cunning woman knows that there are things in this world that cannot be explained, and their solutions must be equally inexplicable. A mistress of folk medicine, herbal lore, and charms, she will heal you up quick or dispel the evil eye. Just remember that what she can cure, she can just as easily give back if you cross her. [hell yeah my pagan girl! Also if you look at her headshot, her design is literally Sabrina but a little paler and with blond hair, which is most amusing to me.] [but like,,, why is her last name nutter.]

Kira Gaudynski : Stella Hopfield – Bottler

Wife of John Hopfield. Though her title is Bottler, she does so much more – marketing, distribution, HR, pretty much everything that isn’t the actual brewing of the beer...and girl, is she good at it! She thrives under pressure, and fortunately for her, there is always pressure abounding.

Ryan Perry : John Hopfield – Brew Master

Patriarch of the Hopfield family. His brews are best. His ales are awesome. His stouts are stellar. His lagers are...really good too. Hes proud of the name he has made for his family, and knows that beer is the true heart of Mount Hope.

Katelyn Shreiner : Sherry Tanningrove – Mistress of the Cellars

Sister of Horice Tanningrove and his partner in the winery. Her mind is like the aging process of wine: calculating, patient, and meticulous. She has an eye for detail and rarely jumps to conclusions. She knows that trends come and go, but wine will be forever.

Michael Stahler : Horace Tanningrove – Vinter

Patriarch of the Tanningrove Family. Wine is what put the shire of Mount Hope on the map, and Horace is proud of that family tradition. He knows Queen Elizabeth will have a more refined palate than her late father and sister, and will help bring Mount Hope’s wines back to the top no matter what those uppity Hopfields say. [yeah okay so there’s definitely a family rivalry here]

Alright, You Stumped Me

Katie Burch : Theresa Ratchet – Rat Catcher

Sickness has begun blanketing the world. Some people blame it on bad smells, some people believe it to be God’s wrath due to the sinful ways of today’s culture. Theresa, however, believes it to be because of the rats. She can’t prove it, and no one else believes her, but she will do whatever it takes to rid Mount Hope of these verminous infestations and save the populous in the process. [Heck yeah, my science-based girl, go get it!]

George Hamilton : Douglas Johnson – Master Thief

He’s been arrested so many times by Sheriff Perry, they know practically everything about each other. One might even suspect they’ve become friends, but Douglas Johnson would never take advantage of his friendship....in any way that would be obvious to Sheriff Jacob. [I’m always a slut for this sort of dynamic!]

Shannon Holder : Rose Hopfield – Brew Master's Daughter

Impulsive, independent, and passionate, this young woman is exploring the world on her own and beginning to see things in a new light, not solely from the perspective of her brewmaster father. By the end of the festival day, she may even sip her first glass of wine!

Jesse Kortus : Jack Tanningrove – Vinter's Son

Idealistic, intelligent, and inquisitive, this young man is coming into his own and beginning to question the things he has grown up with as facts. For example: contrary to his father’s opinion, there seem to be a great deal of people upon the shire who prefer beer to wine. He intends to spend the day finding out just why that is. [....oh great we’re gonna have friggin’ het star-crossed lovers up in here, aren’t we.]

John Surgener : Charles Kent – Yeoman

Fiercely loyal to the Queen, Charles Kent is every bit the ideal hero. With a strong moral compass and an idyllic spirit, Kent is fast, powerful, and has quickly leapt to the top of the list of the Queens favorite Yeomen.

Haley Ward : Amy Cooper – Cooper

Who would have thought a business person could suffer from TOO MUCH demand? With the ongoing conflict between the Tanningroves and the Hopfields, Amy has been profiting, but at the cost of much sleep. Maybe today she’ll finally be able to enjoy a day off. [*sleep-deprived fistbump*]

My Reasoning

A section I include purely because I don’t like feeling stupid: therefore when I’m wrong, I prefer people to at least see the logic I followed to arrive at my conclusion.

Leads

Robert Dudley and Henry Carry are both mentioned by name in the scenario, so they’re obviously leads, and Queen Elizabeth is sort of, well, Queen Elizabeth.

Combat

Bev Tanningrove – Tanningrove Family Muscle: character description puts her pretty firmly in the combat territory; Sunny Vinsavich’s resume backs this up with necessary training/abilities.

Sylvia Forel – Sword Mistress: character description puts her pretty firmly in the combat territory; Emily Wirthwein’s resume backs this up with necessary training/abilities.

Mary McBride – Dance Mistress of the Shire: character description puts her pretty firmly in the combat territory; Mel Angelo’s resume seems to back this up with necessary training/abilities.

Fan Liu – Pirate: character description indicates combat as a definite possibility; Ilana Lo‘s resume backs this up with SO MUCH necessary training/abilities; character seems to fit better into the pattern of the combat track than the pattern of the improv track.

Bonnie Buchanna – Pirate: character description indicates combat as a definite possibility; Leigh Loureiro‘s resume indicates potential necessary physicality; character seems to fit better into the pattern of the combat track than the pattern of the improv track

Mistress Quickley – Tavern Keeper: can’t freaking find a resume for Amanda Darrigo, but in my PARF experience, tavern-keepers tend to be involved in brawls and melees, thus indicating combat track.

Captain James Thatch – Captain of The Queen's Vengeance: character description indicates combat as a definite option; can’t find a resume for Sean Besecker, but did find a facebook post mentioning his participation in leading a stage-combat workshop alongside Sam Little, thus implying the necessary training/abilities; character seems to fit better into the pattern of the combat track than the pattern of the improv track.

Bartholomew Wainwright – Yeoman: though character description does not necessarily indicate active combat role, one would imagine a yoeman to be involved in combat, and I know past casts have included combat-track yeomen; Matthew Glen Clark‘s resume backs this up with necessary training and physicality.

Edward Mawson – First Mate: character description does not necessarily indicate active combat role, and I was completely unable to find any sort of resume for Austin James, but the character seems to fit into the pattern of the combat track well enough, so it’s my best guess.

Music (hardly challenging, as I mentioned, yet shall display my reasoning anyway)

Captain Sheena Daley O'Connell – Captain of The Unyeilding Tempest: woman pyrate whose character description matches the format of the other Sirens’.

Captain Scarlett Seymour – Captain of The Shadow of Prophecy: woman pyrate whose character description matches the format of the other Sirens’.

Captain Ruth "The Blade" Gibson – Captain of The Jolly Walrus: woman pyrate whose character description matches the format of the other Sirens’, plus we already know Megan Jones is music-track certified, so to speak.

Captain Elanor Keetly – Captain of The Malevolence: woman pyrate whose character description matches the format of the other Sirens’, plus we already know Sarah Williams is both music-track certified and Siren certified.

Siobhán O'Sullivan – Royal Music Tutor: surname matches that of the four Irish characters listed as “musician”.

Gilda O'Sullivan – Musician: surname matches that of the other Irish characters listed as “musician” or similar; Jordan Bell is already both music-track certified and Revel certified.

Alannah O'Sullivan – Musician: surname matches that of the other Irish characters listed as “musician” or similar; Morgan Harwood is already music-track certified.

Keagan O'Sullivan – Musician: surname matches that of the other Irish characters listed as “musician” or similar; Jared Haverdink is already music-track certified.

Deklyn O'Sullivan – Musician: surname matches that of the other Irish characters listed as “musician” or similar.

Sterling Armstrong – Highwayman, Leader of Group: highwayman; we already knew Christoper Burch is music-track capable.

Tucker Abbot – Highwayman, Sterling's Protégé: highwayman; singing is specifically mentioned in description.

Jeremiah Slight – Highwayman, Sterling's Right-Hand Man: highwayman; we already knew Pete Hedberg is very very music-track certified and Rogue certified.

William "Bill" Crimson – Highwayman, former Benadictine Monk: highwayman; we already knew Ian Agnew is both music-track certified and Rogue certified.

Improv

Lady Delores Anne Penburthy – Lady Mayor of Mount Hope: Duh.

William Cecil – Advisor to the Queen: Adam Shepley is historically improv track.

Jacob Perry – Sheriff of Mount Hope: Joe Penn is historically improv track.

Sir William Pickering – Nobleman: Jonathan Handley is historically improv track.

William Shakespeare – Apprentice Glover: character description gives no indication of combat; Rob Condas‘s website extols his improv ability and love of the same.

Christopher "Kit" Marlowe – Playwright: if Shakespeare be improv track, it follows that Marlowe is, too; character description gives no indication of combat.

Gretchen Froman – Heir to the Sausage Throne: one parent is a Blackfryar and the other an improv director, so the statistical likelihood lies with improv; character description gives no indication of combat.

Eskarina Nutter – Wise Woman: character description gives no indication of combat; it makes more sense for a healer-witch-type character to not be combat-focused anyway (though that would make for a really cool character); I could not find any resume for Noelani Stevenson to verify anything one way or another, but I’m relatively confident in my verdict nonetheless.

Stella Hopfield – Bottler: character description gives no indication of combat; Kira Gaudynski’ resume seems to indicate greater improv strength than combat strength.

John Hopfield – Brew Master: character description gives no indication of combat; if the Hopfield matriarch indeed be on improv, it seems to heighten the likelyhood of the Hopfield patriarch being on the same; could not find Ryan Perry’s resume to check training/abilities one way or another.

Sherry Tanningrove – Mistress of the Cellars: character description gives no indication of combat; Katelyn Shreiner‘s resume seems to indicate stronger improv skills than combat skills; following my previous path of reason, if the head Hopfields be on the improv track, likely the head Tanningroves will, too.

Horace Tanningrove – Vinter: character description gives no indication of combat; Michael Stahler‘s resume seems to indicate average stage-combat abilities; once more following my path of reasoning through to the logical conclusion, this other head Tanningrove will likely be on the improv track.

Alright, you stumped me

Theresa Ratchet – Rat Catcher: while Katie Burch has historically been combat-track, the character description gives no indication of combat; moreover, her participation in Theatre in the Mansion indicates to me that she has the necessary abilities for the improv track; neither her website nor twitter reveals anything one way or another; finally, I have a unproven gut instinct that one is more likely to remain on cast more years running if one switches tracks. Verdict? could go either way.

Douglas Johnson – Master Thief: George Hamilton has been on both the music track and the combat track (though music is here ruled out), and his participation in Theatre in the Mansion indicates to me that he has the necessary abilities for the improv track; thieves of various sorts are often on the combat track, but it seems his main acting partner this year is on improv; I cannot find a website for further information, and his social media reveals nothing. Verdict? six of one, half-a-dozen of the other.

Rose Hopfield – Brewmaster's Daughter: character description indicates a divergence from her parents’ worldview, so while I have her parents under improv, it would make some degree of sense for her to be on a different track; only some degree, though, and character description does not indicate combat; Shannon Holder‘s resume seems to indicate possibility in either track. Verdict? honestly probably improv but there is wiggle-room.

Jack Tanningrove – Vinter's Son: character description indicates a divergence from his parents’ worldview, so while I have his parents under improv, it would make some degree of sense for him to be on a different track; only some degree, though, and character description does not indicate combat; I could not find a resume for Jesse Kortus to check training/abilities either way. Verdict? yeah prolly improv but who knows.

Charles Kent – Yeoman: though character description does not necessarily indicate active combat role, one would imagine a yoeman to be involved in combat, and I know past casts have included combat-track yeomen; however, John Surgener’s resume seems to me to lean more toward improv than combat, though he has some degree of experience in both. Verdict? heck if I know.

Amy Cooper – Cooper: character description does not indicate combat; Haley Ward’s resume indicates the necessary training/ability for combat; the character description gives me improv-track vibes somehow. Verdict? yeah at this point your guess is as good as mine.

Phew! That’s more than long enough for one day, so the Blackfryars shall get their own post on the morrow (maybe this evening if I’m responsible... haha...).

To the newcomers, welcome! To those returning, welcome back!

#if you'll excuse me i'll be over here being EXCITED as HECK #man this took me ages #they posted the cast while i was at work on tuesday #i couldn't look at it until 9pm-something #and despite working on this post until 3am-something i couldn't finish it at the time #so then i slept in on wednesday and only got a few hours of work in on it before my evening rehearsal #and i finally finished it a couple hours after rehearsal by which time it was 11pm #and i'd rather post it during the day since more people in the relivent timezone will see it then #so yeah. castlist released on tuesay; post up on thursday #i have many things to say -- even more than my little bracket asides have already said -- but that may be fodder for future posts #for my next trick i will reformat this post to work within the limitations of facebook #yikes #bacchanalians #cast list #casting #parf casting #parf cast 2019 #parf 2019 #parf #pa ren faire #pa renn faire #pa renaissance faire #pennsylvania renaissance faire #renaissance faire #renn faire #ren faire #faire #here's a health to the queuempany

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princessofthedarkrealm · 6 years

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Queen of Ash and Dust- An IT/Dark Tower crossover- Chapter 16

Knock, knock

You opened your eyes. You thought you had heard something.

Knock, knock.

You threw back your covers. Someone was at the door. The knock was soft. It had to have been Roland or Allie. You were halfway across the room when you saw something on top of the little dresser next to the door. Three somethings actually—some kind of small vial, what looked like either a choker or necklace, and a piece of paper with some writing on it.

Knock, knock.

“Just a second,” you called.

You opened the top drawer and hastily stuck the items inside. The vial contained something that looked suspiciously like blood. And a necklace too? There were only two people who could have sent them to you. And you didn’t feel like thinking about either one of them. You unlocked the door and threw it open. Roland was standing there. He held one of his guns, his arm hanging slack.

You glanced from his gun to him. “What’s wrong?”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah. Sure.” You moved aside for him to enter. “What’s up?”

“I tried to come in last night. The door was locked. I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

Your brow knit. “Huh? You’d think I would have heard that. I heard it just now.”

Now it was Roland’s turn to frown. “You didn’t have any…problems, did you?”

“Oh no.” You shook your head. “I just…came in my room and got ready for bed.”

You felt bad lying to him. But there was no way you could tell him about Walter.

“What happened last night?”

“I had to scare him off. Are you sure you were alright by yourself?”

You tilted your head at him. “Roland…I’m fine. Really.”

Actually you felt more than fine. You felt relaxed. Even your stomach wasn’t bothering you.

Roland squinted at you and tilted his head sideways. “What is that?” He pointed at your neck.

“What?”

“There’s a dark red mark the side of your neck.”

Your eyes grew wide. Your stomach knotted up. Walter must have left you a hickie.

“It’s uh…I don’t know. Maybe something bit me.”

You went to the chest at the foot of your bed. Your hands went to pick up your shirt, but you stopped. You slowly picked it up. Then the pants.

Your clothes were completely clean. You let out a heavy sigh. Walter was really going out of his way to make you comfortable. Literally.

You glanced over at your empty bed. You imagined Roman laying there on his side, patting the spot next to you. How badly you missed being in your husband’s arms.

“I need to find Roman.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back. He always does.”

You spun around at the bitterness in Roland’s voice. “No. I need to find him. Things are getting out of hand. Or they’re about to.”

Roland narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? Are you talking about Sylvia?”

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone here around me is getting super protective all of a sudden. First Roman asked you to lock me in my room and then-”

You scowled. How could you have done that to Roman? Even though it had just been a kiss, more than that, you had to remind yourself. In a way, Walter had been intimate with you. And not only had you let him, but you had made the first move.

“Y/N…”

Roland’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“I know something’s bothering you. I wish you would tell me.”

You lowered your gaze. “There’s a lot I wish I could tell you, Roland,” you answered quietly. “But I just think it would hurt things more than anything. I know they haven’t helped when it comes to Roman.”

“But I’m not Roman. I’m here.”

You glanced up at him from under your eyelashes and gave him a small smile. “I know. And I appreciate that. More than you’ll ever know.”

Roland put out his arms and you stepped into his embrace without hesitation. The two of you stood like that for a minute and you had no desire to step out of his protective, supportive warmth. When you broke apart, you couldn’t help but notice the caring, desperate look in Roland’s eyes. He reached up to caress you cheek. Slowly, he leaned down towards you.

Your lips parted. Was he about to kiss you? You really didn’t want him to, but you were afraid to move. You heard footsteps in the doorway and you and Roland both glanced up.

Roman stood there, his eyes murderous. “Well I guess three really is a crowd. Or more like four in your case.”

He turned and disappeared from view.

“Roman!” you called. You followed him down the hall. “Roman, please.” He didn’t respond. You followed him down the stairs. “Roman, will you please just listen? It’s not what it looks like.”

He rounded on you. “You seriously cannot wait for me to leave, can you?”

“What in the hell are you talking about? We were just hugging!”

“And did you just hug the sorcerer last night? When he came into your room?”

Your mouth fell open. “Roland said he scared you away.”

“Yeah well I came back. Too bad I missed the show.”

He turned away from you again and stalked across the main room. There was no way you were letting him leave again.

“Roman, goddamn it, I never cheated on you. Walter came to me but nothing happened. We didn’t…Goddamnit, Roman, listen to me!”

He stopped in the middle of the room.

“I never cheated on you. Not with Roland. Or Walter. Nobody.” You heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. It looked like Roland was going to get an earful too.

Roman still didn’t look at you. When he spoke, his voice sounded pained. “I know your smell, kitten. When you mate…I know your smell. I smelled it last night…And I smelled him.” He turned sideways. “Are you still mine?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could he even ask that? He finally turned. His face looked haggard, worn. He slowly approached you.

“Answer me, Y/N.” Finally he stopped right in front of you. “Are you still mine? Are you still my wife?”

You looked him square in the eye and said without hesitation, “Yes. I did not sleep with Walter.”

Roman’s jaw muscle twitched. “But you did do something with him.”

His voice was low, dangerous.

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“Did he put his hands on you?”

“Not inappropriately.”

It was like in a court room with everyone waiting for the judge to give his final verdict.

“His mouth?”

The gavel fell.

“Yes.”

“And you let him?”

Your body felt light, like she were standing outside of yourself, watching the whole thing. You saw it flash through your mind—Walter’s mouth on your breast, your hand cupping his head.

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Roman nodded. You could only imagine what he was thinking right now.

“It was a kiss, Roman. It was a goddamn kiss. You fucking left me. Again. Over things that hadn’t been my fault.”

“You sure didn’t mourn for too long.”

“You son of a bitch.” You shook your head, anger heating your blood.

Roman’s head shot up.

“You left me, Roman. I was on the floor. I was literally on the floor. You and Roland had both left me.” You paused. “You could have both killed each other. For all I knew I was about to lose everything. I wanted to die. I literally wanted to die.” Another pause. “I felt someone pick me up. I didn’t even see who it was. They could have carried me off for all I knew and I wouldn’t even have had an ounce of strength to stop them, because I did not care anymore!” You were almost hollering now. “Walter brought me in my room. He laid me on my bed. My lamp came on. I told him to leave. I told him to turn the light back off and leave.”

“But he didn’t,” Roman said flatly.

“Hmph. You think it was that easy? He told me that I couldn’t go to bed in my dirty clothes and, oh my God, that pissed me off so much! I told him that I didn’t want him! And then he…he made a deal with me. That if I let him undress me, that he would turn off the light and leave. So he turned off the light. And then I…I let him take my shirt off. But he didn’t touch me. At all. But I…”

You stopped. You saw Roland standing there out of the corner of your eye. Roman leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the table in front of him.

“Then what happened?” he asked.

Your posture drooped. One shoulder of your night gown fell and you didn’t even bother to adjust it. “I didn’t have a reason to care anymore. I still don’t know if I do,” you said in a small voice. “But he was there. He was actually trying to take care of me.” Your voice broke. Your throat tightened.

This wasn’t fair. None of this was. You and Roman were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to be going on dates, to be holding hands and laughing, cuddling and making love. But that was all over now. And something inside your soul finally broke.

Your voice was hollow as you spoke. “I kissed him. I kissed Walter.”

Roman let his head fall. His fingers arched. You could see his nails dig into the wood. “He killed our baby. He tricked you into mating with him.”

“I know that! Goddamn it, Roman, you think I don’t know that?!”

Roman threw his gaze at you. There was just a hint of yellow in his green eyes. “You did this to me? To get back at me, is that it?”

You took a step back from him. “No. Roman, that was not it at all.”

“Then what? I know I haven’t been here for you. And I’m sorry if I have trouble handling all this and don’t have a home to go back to any more when things get rough.”

“Then make me your home.” You pointed to yourself. “Make me your safe haven. That’s what marriage is supposed to be, Roman. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. I know we never took any vows, but that is how I feel. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting you. I never stopped believing in US!”

The look on Roman’s face was a mix of anger and guilt. And hurt. But you weren’t finished yet. He had hurt you way too much.

“You kidnapped my brother. He is just a toddler. And you kidnapped Georgie. You tried to kill my co-actor so that you could be in my play. You got me pregnant with a monster!”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. He never responded the whole time.

“Maybe one day a man will love me that I don’t have to worry about those things with. But not today.” You copied his stance, hands flat on the table, and leaned in towards him. “I only…wanted…you. We are mated, Roman. I chose that. I chose you. Coming to another dimension has not changed that. Having our link broken has not changed that. And Walter…he will never change that. So if anyone has changed us…then it is you.” Your stomach growled. You stood. “I am going to get dressed. I want you to think about everything I have just told you.”

You turned around and froze. Allie was standing next to Roland, her arms crossed over her chest and a deep frown on her face. Roland’s gaze landed on you and the sorrow you saw in his eyes almost broke your heart. You calmly walked past him, trying to keep a straight face the whole time. You had laid all your cards on the table. The rest was in Roman’s hands now. You climbed the stairs and begrudgingly went back to your room.

You had now hurt the two men you cared for the most. Part of you dreaded going back downstairs. What if they were both gone, for good this time? Would you call on Walter one more time and take him up on his offer to get you out of there? Walter! You remembered the items in the drawer. You quickly locked your door and pulled the top drawer of the dresser open. They were still there. You took a deep breath and lifted out the necklace first. It was a star inlaid with diamonds on a black cord. It looked like the North Star. You ran your thumb along the cord. It felt like silk. There was a clasp on the end of it. You carefully laid it on the top of the dresser. Next came the vial. It was a little taller than the palm of your hand. You opened it and brought it to your nose and inhaled.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

Definitely blood. You placed that on the dresser top too. You took a deep breath and held it as you picked up the note. You quickly glanced at the bottom it. Walter’s name stared up at you. You let your breath out.

“Lord Jesus Christ,” you said tartly.

You dropped your hand to your side and went sat on your bed. You tucked your legs up under you and read.

The North Star is constant and unwavering. It is the only thing in the night sky that does not move. Remember that the next time you feel lost. Follow the star…and you will find your destiny.

Hmm. Follow the North Star? Was Walter trying to tell you where he was? But then he had to know that would lead Roland and Pennywise to him also. And wait a minute. Did that mean Walter was telling you that he was your destiny? Of course. He had told you that before. The night he had been waiting for you in your bedroom. You continued reading.

Yes, the blood is mine. Use it sparingly. It will help you with your condition. I have a project that I am working on right now that needs my utmost attention. I will not be able to come to you for a while, so do not call me unless it is absolutely urgent.

Wear the choker. Black looks good on you. And I know you think it feels good too.

Walter

Your stomach flip flopped at that last line. Your face grew hot. Feels good? Of course. He had to have been talking about last night. That he was the “black” that you thought felt good on you. Clever man. Devious, but clever. And there was something else about the letter that stuck out at you too. ‘The blood is mine’. That line was darker than the rest. Was it a code for something? Every section of the note had different meanings to it, but why give special attention to this one? You reread the line again. And then the two lines after that. He had mentioned your condition. You scowled at the letter. You had told Walter you hadn’t been feeling well, but condition? The blood is mine. Your heart started pounding faster than it already was. You knew why he made that line stand out above the rest. He was answering a question. A question you had had about your condition. The condition that was growing in your womb.

Walter’s unborn child.

***********

You trudged down the stairs. You had been in your room for longer than you had been expecting, but you had had a lot of thinking to do. To your surprise, Roman and Roland were both sitting, waiting for you. They both stood when you got down. Roman’s hands were in his pockets as he made his way to you.

“I thought you would have left again,” you said.

“There is nowhere else I want to be,” said Roman. “Nowhere else worth being.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. You glanced over at Roland. He gave you a nod. Apparently he felt the same. You let out a deep sigh.

Roman’s face turned into a scowl. “Where did you get the necklace?”

You handed him the note, then stood with your hands behind your back, not saying anything. Your face burned the whole time. You kept passing furtive glances at Roland and your blush deepened. You thought Roman was going to crumple up the note, but to your surprise, he handed it to Roland.

Roman glanced at you but then quickly looked away. You could tell he was trying to keep his face neutral. He went to cross his arms, but then seemed to change his mind and the put them back in his pockets.

“So you are with child.” Roland handed you back the note.

“You caught that too, huh?” You took the note back from him. You folded it up.

“His project? I don’t like the sound of that.” Roland crossed his arms across his chest and started pacing.

“I don’t like the sound of any of this,” you retorted, gesturing with your hand that held the note. “I can handle wearing the necklace, but the fact that he wants me to keep drinking his blood? That it will help with the baby? I didn’t even need to drink blood when I was pregnant for Eleanor.”

“Walter is a demon,” Roland said flatly.

“I know that. But so is Roman. You know what scares me though? Walter told me a while back that he killed Eleanor on purpose. What if he was afraid for me? If he is a demon, then he knows that my carrying Eleanor wouldn’t have been good for me after a while.”

“Of course he wants to take care of his own child,” Roman retorted.

“Exactly. But my thing is, if he didn’t want Eleanor to hurt me…”

“Then this child was an accident,” Roland finished for you.

“Exactly. Not even Walter was expecting me to get pregnant, you guys.”

“Y/N, what are you getting at?” Roman asked.

“What if my getting pregnant for him wasn’t an accident? In fact, what if getting pregnant for either of my children wasn’t an accident? I mean, think about it. Eleanor’s spirit is still in the Tower. And I can go to the Tower. Sooo…” You waved your hands about. Both men stared at you with questioning gazes.

You smiled. For the first time in days, you actually smiled. It was like everything finally made sense to you now. “What if I’m meant to be a guardian of the Tower?”

Roman stared at you as if you had just told him you and Walter were getting married.

“There were guardians at one time. The gunslingers. My people. We protected the Tower,” said Roland.

“I don’t think that’s the kind she’s talking about,” said Roman. “There are other guardians. Twelve of them. And they are all animals” He shook his head. “Kitten, I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about, Roman. My children are the most important thing to me and the really messed up part is that it took for the person who has orchestrated all of this bullshit to make me realize that. If Walter destroys the Tower, none of this is going to matter anymore. I mean sure, you would probably be able to just go off and hibernate somewhere, but what about me? What about the child growing inside me? And what about Eleanor? What’s going to happen to her soul if the Tower is brought down?” You slowly closed the distance between you and Roman. “I know where I stand, Roman. I stand with my children…and I stand with the Tower.” You paused, trying to let what you had just told him sink in. “So what about you? Are you going to stand with your wife? Are you going to stand with your mate, Pennywise?”

The silence was almost palpable. Off in the distance, a rooster crowed.

“I was planning to bring you into hibernation with me…but it looks like that’s not going to happen now.” Roman tucked in his lips. He started nodding. “I stand with you,” he said softly, and then louder, “I stand with you, Y/N.”

Your face lit up. Roman pulled you into his embrace and you threw your arms around him. You were back. You and Roman were back together.

And no one was going to rip you apart this time.

@mummerthemimo @smileysam13579 @booklover2929 @penny-trash @hoe-for-daddywise @bill-istvan @messoria109 @pinoflicious @grotesquegabby @winterautumndreaming @syynnaah @theloriequeen @tomuchofaclownlover @moonlighthope7 @see-a-penny @superwholock36 @allkundsofwrong @hunterplushy @nychowise-hl @book-wyrm-snacks @jeanethclaton18 @skrillexsonnyjohnmoore @ofstardustandpatricide @jacko-puppet @fandomimcurrentlyobsessedabout

#dark tower fanfiction #dark tower #roland deschain #pennywise x reader #pennywise fanfiction #gunslinger #gunslinger fanfiction #walter padick

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l0chn3ss · 7 years

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KiMa Week 2017: Day 1- Apocalypse

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 Masterpost | AO3 | FFNET

hohoho firstly, several thanks to rose and ash for their bountiful support in every direction imaginable, and here we are fam. flamakness back at it again with another giant au that we don’t know what to do with. kima week is going to have a strange influx of a kima witch au starting with these fics. just wait fam, more comes.

Binding; a KiMa AU

"Apocalypse" (ἀποκάλυψις) is a Greek word meaning "revelation", "an unveiling or unfolding of things not previously known and which could not be known apart from the unveiling"

To those foolish mortals out there who believe there is no such thing as magic: think again.

It comes in the form of luck. Of the unknown. Accidental practices that result in something strangely good. Deliberate intent. A force that perhaps we all wish we had a little more of. The happenings we have no words for.

And perhaps most of all-- love.

I’ll prove it.

She was walking home from wherever she needed to be, bags trailing along after her and dancing with the flick of her finger tips. Heavy things simply weren’t good for her back, so what’s it to you if she casted a little enchantments here and there? There was no need to suffer that evening, or any other unnecessary evening at that. Her front door unlocked by itself at the sound of her foot steps. And she caught the glow of her bioluminescent plants for just split second before the lights flickered on when they sensed her arrival.

Guiding her new wares to their places, checking on the little bit of magic still activated from chores, changing the musty air with the fresh night sky’s, Maka’s list of things to do was just about complete. There was only just one thing that she’d been putting off. You see, she’d inherited the house from an aunt on her father’s side after her children had decided to move away. It wasn’t like they’d rejected magic-- no, wouldn’t that be tragic? But it was that they had new families to start, new lives to begin, new places to call their home.

Aunt Tisha was more than happy to pass down the house along to Maka, who she loved as much as her own. It may as well go to someone who could truly enjoy the beauty of what it had to offer, she said to her only niece. There was no reason that such a piece of their family’s legacy needed to die just because the main branch was married off into different circles. The Albarns were powerful witches, and Maka had always been in awe of the rich history behind her pedigree.

Of course, as magic began to thin out, the more people used other reliable means of technologies-- such as their own two hands-- Maka felt even more of a need to preserve it. She kept a copy of her grimoire both on her google docs and in her shelves, left a spell or two within her new neighbors’ flower beds to attract ladybugs, never drank water without a drop of lemon… the usual things a modern witch felt the need to do. The shapeshifters across the street looked at her funny whenever she was found digging in her yard on a blue moon, but Maka sweared they still wanted to join her more than anything.

Back to the house though. She’d moved in a little over a month ago and there was still so much to be done before she could truly call the place home. From dead plants that needed to be replaced in the backyard to sorting through old belongings to send to cousin Sylvia’s ranch-- Maka may as well start cleaning out the dusty attic. They told her that it hadn’t been opened since her grandma’s time, but if there were really birds roosting up there, then a cleaning was long overdue.

It was dangerous for wee creatures to play where there could be expired magic stored, after all.

With her home still getting used to being in tuned with her will, it took moment for it to lead her to the unmistakable entrance of the attic. Using a barrier to keep dust from falling through and onto her freshly mopped floor, Maka forced the handle to turn, and a rickety ladder fell from above. She supposed that she could check what she was dealing with now, and then actually deal with it in the morning. Putting one hand over the other, she climbed to the top, only to be met with the flutter of wings immediately.

The little finch was excited for reasons she couldn’t quite figure out. It tugged at her bangs and poked at her back until she was lead into her dark, crowded attic. There were boxes stacked as high as her cousin Trent. Dust clinging to every surface. Bits of cobwebs that swayed from the beams, which Maka almost ran into despite the bits of light coming in from a little porthole. But from that light, she saw another finch emerge, joining its little nest mate in their attempts to push Maka deeper in.

She didn’t think that they were malicious in any way, but you had to admit, it was strange to be lead on by a couple of birds; it made her cautious. There was something in the attic that they wanted her to see, and that something was something she could be potentially worried about. Still, she followed them all the way to where the light of the moon entered through, where it bounced off behind the little holes of a white sheet, and where the unmistakable frame of a mirror stood.

A small chirp triggered a little chorus of beeps, and with them came a voice unbelonging to Maka. It was surely male, surely soft and testing, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Confusion, not fear, was what she felt in that moment as she called back, answering his question with her name.

“My name is Death the Kid,” came his silvery words in response. “Free me, and I’ll reward you handsomely.”

“How does a disembodied voice have anything to give me?” Maka tried.

And she heard him groan under his breath. “Just-- whatever you want. I’ll give it to you. Get me out of here.”

There was a certain desperation in his voice as Maka saw a faint shadow of a hand pressed against the surface of the mirror behind the sheet. She steeled herself, deciding then that she wanted to see just who was negotiating his freedom. As if the house heard her, the fabric was blown away, stirring up the dust and causing Maka to shield her eyes momentarily. She really had to get this house under her control.

Lowering her hand away from her face, she saw the glow of a golden eyes more beautiful than the moon itself first. The man unveiled in the mirror was dressed formally in attire not from her era, with an older form of a suit and the shine of cufflinks on his wrists. He fit his clothes well, filling out the shoulders best and showing off his height with the illusion of a long torso and even longer legs. His black hair was styled carefully, or at least to the best of his efforts since he had no reflection to help him, she figured. But there were three incomplete bands of white that circled left around his bangs and to the back of his head.

He placed his hand back behind him, scrutinizing her image as much as she was to him.

“Well, don’t you look oddly like her.”

“Her?” Maka inquired, briefly registering the many finches that quickly perched on top of the mirror. “Who’s that?”

“Never mind that. Free me. I’ve been trapped in this hell for longer than you have a right to know.”

“And why should I?”

“There’s no reason to mistrust me. I was wrongfully imprisoned during the rebellion and I have done nothing to warrant this prison.”

“You must have gotten sealed for a reason,” she said cooly. “Souls don’t just casually end up mirror bound.”

“Trust me, Maka. There are a lot of reasons to keep me here, including just out of pettiness, but the very fact that you can hear and see me is enough reason for you to believe that I’m someone who has finally earned the right to leave. You’ve probably figured it out, but I have nothing to give you in return other than my gratitude. However, I’ll tell you everything you want to know once I’ve escaped and given a physical form. For now though, I know you know the curse binds my words too.”

“Then why haven’t you left before, if you’re so ready for it now?”

“Who’s been up here in this past century?” he said simply.

She mulled it over again in her head. If it were true, if what she’d learned about mirror bound souls were true, then his emergence really did mean that he was worthy to leave under the contract of a witch. And if he was, if the birds were truly comfortable perched on that mirror’s frame, going as far as to assist him… then perhaps she had to trust their calling.

With a bit of preparation and time, and even a hint of preservation, she reached into the mirror and grabbed his hand, pulling him out and letting him step into the world for the first time.

Maybe there is a little magic in the concept of fate, too, by the way.

You’ll have to just wait and see.

#kidmaka-week2017 #kima #kidxmaka #soul eater #nessie spills #yALL KNOW I DO SHIT LATE WT F #flamakness does kima week

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voliere-rpg-blog · 6 years

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Hummingbird

Under the cut you will find the example application by the admin for the closed role of Hummingbird. Please take this as a guideline, not as a rule.

Information about the Player

Name: Jey

Age: 23

Pronouns: They/Them

Timezone: GMT+1

Experience: I’ve been roleplaying for over 10 years now, and at least 5 on Tumblr. I enjoy the fact that it’s all on the same dash and putting a lot of thought and effort into your replies is seen as something beautiful, not annoying. I love long replies a lot, but I’m not a fan of the use of gifs, as I feel the roleplay community has started fixating on face claims a lot. It seems as though more and more people give up on building proper story arcs and sticking with groups. I understand that a slow dash can be disheartening, but I also think that the only way to combat that is when everyone pulls their weight. One reply a day should be in. I really don’t mind if people make typos, write in simple sentence-structures or are a bit insecure about cutting posts and all that, as long as they don’t give up on everything right away. My greatest roleplay experiences have been in dedicated groups, groups that wanted to write a story together and allowed themselves so immerse in this second reality, groups that became friends.

How you found this roleplay: I … made it … myself …

Personal quote: “I don’t even like birds…”

Questions: Hello, you, if you are reading this! I hope you have fun applying! I can’t wait reading from you! *-*

Information about the Role

The chosen bird: Hummingbird

Faceclaim: First Choice: Keinyan Lonsdale, with [this] kind of energy. I think he’s got those very bright, very colourful, very energetic vibes I need for Hummy. I originally know him from Dance Academy, where he played a more brooding type, and that too fits well, considering that Hummy can go from smiley happy go-lucky to dangerously manipulating in the blink of an eye. Second Choice: Ryan Jamaal because [look]. [at]. [him]. Precious!

Age: He turned 20 this June.

Pronouns: He/Him

Major: Biology (with a minor in Dance)

Second Character: Hmmm I really want to play Hummy, but if I really can’t have him, I think I’d very much like to go with Cuckoo or Parrot

Themes: Yellow, orange. Lies/Truths and also lies in contrast to story telling as a mean of painting yourself the way you want others to see you. Energy turning into low-energy and vice versa.

The Interview

“Who are you?” one of the girls asked into the darkness. [...] “How do you know we can trust you?”

The voice sounded amused. “You will just have to. And it does not matter who we are. Only who we want to be.”

One by one, the Invited were asked to step forward, a bodiless hand guiding them into the darkness and down into the Archives of the Silver Library, where the records of every student who ever attended Weston University could be found. There, the first interview ensued.

“Do not be intimidated, nothing can happen to you. Not yet. What is your name, my little bird?”

You: “Larson!” Bisi had waited such a long time to finally introduce himself to the Volière that his answer rolled off his tongue almost a little too eagerly. “My name’s Bisi J. Larson, Miss.”

“Are you aware that immense secrecy comes with affiliating yourself with the Volière? You could get in troubles if people knew you were trying to join us. Would you wish to be called by a nickname? Or is your first name fine?“

You: “I’m very aware, yes, but I don’t mind. I mean-,” He paused. “Of course I mind. I’m mindful of it.” A smile. Simple and small, yet genuine in all aspects. “But I understand why the rules are that way, and I respect the importance of … respecting them. I guess Bisi isn’t exactly a name people forget easily, but don’t worry. Most of them think it’s a nickname of some sort, anyway.” The wildest of attempts had been made to find out Bisi’s ‘real name’ in the past, none of them as funny as his responding laugh had made it sound like. But he had gotten used to it, eventually, and in a way it was better letting people make fun of him than letting them forget him. “So I’m fine being addressed like this, too.”

“Tell me about your family.”

You: Modern, clean, impersonal, perfect. So perfect. Way too perfect. Bisi let out a chuckle and shook his head. “Where do I start? There’s so much to say!” He had of course rehearsed his answer and knew exactly which details to speak to conceal, but he gave it a pensive hum anyway, giving himself a more relaxed, spontaneous way. “My fathers were both in Yale, Dada being one of the youngest Yale Daily News Editors in Chief ever, if I remember right.”

Of course he was remembering this right. He had listened to his fathers’ story over and over again. “They met on Dada’s first day there, you know. Paps was the President of the newspaper and not really a fan of Dada joining, considering that he was not only young but also a scholar. Paps doubted that Dada would be able to handle the amount of work required, while simultaneously keeping up with his classes. He even tried to sabotage him more than once, can you believe?” Bisi laughed, just like his fathers always did when they told the story. “But eventually he found himself charmed by Dada and even helped him with his campaign to become Editor in Chief. Isn’t that sweet?” They had lost sight of each other after his Paps had left Yale, meeting again only six years later at a random press conference, employed by rivalling newspapers now. Hitting it off immediately again, this time with more than just amicable feeling involved, they decided to move together, and because this required for at least one of them to quit their job to move across the country, they decided to both give up their jobs and start a whole new newspaper: The Larson Daily News. The internet had started becoming more popular then, and seeing its potential, they decided to make their newspaper an exclusive and mostly anonymous online-accessible portal for the high society of the East Coast. “They’ve been together ever since, building their business with great success. I’m so proud of them, you have no idea. I truly wish to be as lucky as them one day.”

What a perfect story.

If only it was true.

“I don’t know who my mother is, though. I was offered to meet her a few years back, but I never felt … brave enough to follow up. Perhaps after I graduate from college, so she can be proud of me when she meets me. My fathers stand in contact with her, though, and they say she’s doing fine and that she’s already proud of me. Sweet, isn’t it?” Certainly. But it was a lie. The only lie Bisi had ever allowed him to tell. Perhaps because without it, all the other truths would not exist. The truth to this one, big lie was: he had met her. Almost ten years ago now. Secretly. He had met her once and seen that the truth was hardly as perfect as the stories he was made to believe.

He never ever wanted to believe lies ever again.

“So what about your childhood? Tell me about it.”

You: “Sunshine, apple blossoms and cheerful dinners? Is that enough of a description?” he asked, laughing good-heartedly before shaking his head. “No, that’s not true though. I mean, you probably know it for yourself, don’t you, Miss? With parents who work hard comes a lot of time spent alone. Mornings eating breakfast alone, afternoons playing outside all by yourself, nights reading books out loud with no one listening. Yada, yada.” He added a vague hand motion, but his smile remained. “It’s also not easy to be an only child to two gay men - who don’t even look like me - in the middle of Nowhere, Georgia.”

Life wasn’t perfect just because someone told you it was, after all, was it?

Bisi had watched his fathers leave for work for years, returning days later exhausted but with such dazzling stories to tell, and he had known that there had to be more out there than a couple of dusty houses and green wasteland, school mates with paper thin skin and the humor of dead fish. And one day he had found his mother’s address in his Paps’ office.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected. Answers, surely, but the exciting kind. On his way there, the wildest ideas came to his mind. Was she an old college friend, a feminist artist, who had happily agreed to help them fulfill their child wish? Was she a young high society girl who had been forced to give away her child by her strict, conservative parents? Was she a scientist, hiding Bisi’s twin to learn about the differences between nature and nurture? Or was she maybe a crazy fortune teller who had read in her tea cup that she had to grant a child to the next gay couple that passed her shop?

Stories. Nothing but stories he told himself.

Reality was loveless. Sylvia Kempten was no one but a poverty-sunken woman with six children whom the CPS had told that any more children would have to be taken away from her. Refusing to do abort her next pregnancy, though, she asked around and found another way, and barely eleven months and a certain amount of monetary influence later, Jonathan Larson had adopted Bisi. “Not that I wasn’t loved, of course. They did their darn best to spend as much time with me as possible. Now that their business is going really well, they’re at home much more.” He leaned in. “I know I’m a teen and supposed to hate it, but to be honest, it’s nice having them around. They’re really great people, you know.” But they had lied. His mother wasn’t fine, and she wasn’t proud of him. She barely cared about him actually, hardly even heard from him, and she certainly didn’t receive any of the money Bisi’s Paps had promised her. She didn’t fit the perfect narrative, and so she had never been invited.

Liars. Not story-tellers. Liars. “I think that if I had a great childhood, it’s thanks to them. I was taught all I needed to know about life, and that’s what matters in the end.”

“I see.” The voice hummed. “Say, how much do you think all of this influenced you? How much of the events then made you the person you are now?”

You: “Doesn’t every second you live, every action you push yourself to do, every adventure you go and don’t go on influence you?”

He was still a child when he had decided to put an end to all lies. He wanted the perfect life his fathers described, but he wanted it to be true. And so he wrote his first bucket list. It read itself like a recipe to a cliché filled teenage movie, but that was exactly what Bisi wanted; people needed to look at his life and think that he was living it to its fullest and not be lied to. He’d work hard and fast and ceaselessly, would turn charming and sweet when the goal required it, would teach himself how to get everything and anything he wanted with honest ambition. He’d do everything to achieve this.

“I think it humbled me, you know. To … face challenges. And-, and I know that I’m still in the top ten percent of the most fortunate people out there. I don’t think that if my actual birth father had raised me, I would’ve actually made it as far as I’ve made it now. I-, But I also know that if it wasn’t for the bullying and our constant outsider-status, I might’ve grown up taking it all for granted. Instead I am here now, grateful and aware that everything I do in life must be done with my best efforts and no giving up ever.”

“Well, all of this is … interesting. Tell me about the dark things now. Your trauma, your saddest memories, your angriest actions? Has there ever been something you regretted doing? Something you wished you could erase from your record? Oh, and,” a chuckle, “is there something you regret not doing?”

You: That’s a lot of questions at once!” he laughed out, nothing about the way he took his time hinting to the fact that he was thinking about how to reply, trying to figure out how to keep his smile. “So one by one, yes? What did you start with? Dark things? Trauma? Sadness?”

Angriest actions. Everything Bisi had done since that day he had found out about his mother had been based on anger. Or perhaps not anger. But irritation. Like a stone in your shoe which either made you walk faster and kick and twist your foot - or which had you stop walking altogether. They had lied to him. They had lied to him for years, over and over again, making him feel safe and wanted and important, when really he was nothing but a random object to their narrative. A lego piece to make their lies seem more believable. In deciding that Bisi needed to create his own narrative, he had decided to keep walking.

What he had not been preparing himself for however, was what would happen if the irritation would turn against him in case of failure…

“I spent a lot of time in hospitals,” he said, simply. “But dancing helped with that. Davanta Academy isn’t an art school, but it focuses on helping their students to express themselves with art. And before you say anything! I know this sounds terribly like a hippie school, but trust me if I tell you that it’s so much easier to study for exams when you’ve got a proper outlet to let steam off.” Suicide attempts simply stopped fitting into his narrative, after all. “They’re actually quite smart there. I mean, look where it got me. The first to ever receive a scholarship for dance, am I not?” He did a little arabesque, smiling brightly at the end of it. “Really. I don’t think the dark parts matter much. Yes, my fathers were gone a lot, and yes I got bullied as a kid, but like, doesn’t that somewhat go for everyone? Don’t we all sometimes feel like our parents aren’t there enough for us, like we aren’t really appreciated by others?” Like you’re a failure and a lie, a failure and a lie, a failure and a lie. “What matters is how you deal with it, is it not?”

“Hm, this is going to be fun, I can sense it. I wonder, had you heard of The Volière before?”

You: This had Bisi pause. What would be fun? Had she sensed something? Or did she mean something else? Did she like his dancing? Was this something good? But then the next question came, and he forced himself to concentrate. “I had. Only in rumors, of course, but it left me very curious. I think it wouldn’t be a lie if I said that out of the three school that offered me a scholar ship, I might’ve partially chosen Whitebridge because of the Volière, even.” He stopped, very purposefully so but making it look as though taken aback by his own words. “Oh gosh, I hope this won’t make me look needy and clingy and like I’m trying too hard. I mean I am, but how can I keep up with that now? An apple for the Miss next time, perhaps.”

“What benefits do you think would you draw from being in such a secret society? I mean, we do not just live for the ‘food, fun and fuckery’, we do serve a purpose. With our connections, we can help you do things you only ever dreamt doing, and once you’ve done them, we can protect you so no one will ever know. Unless you want to be known, in which case, we can make you famous. Would you like that? We can make you rich. We can help you get any life you dream of, no doors are closed if you’ve made it into the Volière. Hm? Doesn’t that sound tempting?”

You: Bisi listened to those explanations carefully, his body still, his face calm, but his heart beating more and more rapidly with each word. Yes. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted. Opportunities and people who were as willing as he was to go far. As far as possible. Maybe even a little too far. They’d be more than just audience, more than just witnesses, they’d be characters in his story, contributing, helping, driving the plot forward. It was exactly what he wanted, and so much more. Failing, would be so much harder with the Volière.

“I think the question you want to ask is “Doesn’t it sound tempting to have me’?”

“Many people are willing to go very far to make it into our beautiful, golden, little cage, you know. Others are too afraid to even engage, they would’ve never come here in the first place. After all, now that we have seen your face, there is no way out. There is no quitting now, no going back, not until we decide that you hold no value to us after all. But you are here, so I suppose there must be a reason. Tell me, is this reason strong enough for you to play by our rules, no matter what?

You: Finally, Bisi’s smile fell. It was still there, somewhere, like the warmth of a hearth even after you turned the flame down, but his lips showed no signs of it anymore. “I-,” He averted his gaze, frowned, took a breath. Nodded. “It is. I know all this, I know the risks, I know the benefits, and I know that I’ve got what it takes.” A pause. “I’d tell you to trust me, but I guess you’ll make sure to see for yourself.”

“Are you scared?”

You: Slowly, Bisi’s smile returned. Truths rolled off tongues so much easier than lies, didn’t they? “I think I’ve never been any less scared.”

There was a long moment of silence after this. Then, finally, a gust of air, and the voice returns. “You will hear from us. And remember, from now on, no matter what you do, we will hear from you, too.”

#university rpg #lsrpg #college rpg #secret society rpg #example #hummingbird

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raining-v-coffee · 7 years

Text

Donna Noble/The Doctor fic recs

*Multichapter ~my notes

The Happiest Place on Earth

The Doctor and Donna visit Disneyworld as the best of mates, but then run into the Doctor and Donna as the DoctorDonna. Fluff ensues, as does a lot of confusion!

Red

Doctor has to find Donna before she pays the price for his mistake.

Clean Slate

The Doctor wants to start the new year off with a bang, but is Donna ready to take the sort of leap he's hoping for?

Damsel in Distress

Who exactly needs the rescuing, here?

Dark Water

A dying planet conceals a deadly threat just below the surface, and Donna Noble is on the menu.

Next Stop Wonderland

All these months she's been searching for the other half of her life, then one day he shows up. A Journey's End fix-it.

Out of Pocket

Donna discovers that the Doctor's pockets are very deep indeed.

Eleusinian Mysteries

Drugged and alone, an amnesiac Donna finds herself the unwilling guest of honour at a mysterious alien ceremony.

Excess Baggage

A quiet moment aboard the TARDIS finds the Doctor and Donna talking about their respective pasts.

You're Not Marrying Me, Sunshine!

But if, if, he could somehow share the load, lessen the burden, it might just be enough. Humans from this era didn’t have enough psychic energy to sustain a constant telepathic connection, not on their own, but he could create a bond, an open pathway to allow his memories and energy to filter back and forth between them. As Donna was neither his kin nor even his kind the only way to initiate that kind of close connection would be—

Oh. Oh dear.

--- The Doctor decides to be a better best friend in the wake of Donna's exposure to the metacrisis. It's not at all motivated by his entirely selfish love for said best friend. Not at all.

She Burns Mature

The Doctor races to save Donna and correct his terrible mistake while an old enemy plots the destruction of the universe. Doctor Who Journey's End Fix it with angst and a darker Doctor as he comes to terms with his actions in regards to Donna and the metacrisis. Captain Jack & the Torchwood team join the adventure in the latter part. Post Waters of Mars. (Birth of the Phoenix Universe)

Quid Pro Quo Explicit

Donna Noble really needed to get laid. [Ten/Donna, somewhat cracky smut!fic]

Catalyst Explicit

Two friends who've had awkward sex under the influence of an aphrodisiac are still friends.

With You Forever*

The DoctorDonna's song has ended, and life has returned to normal. Or has it? She may have no memories of a skinny spaceman in a little blue box, but Donna Noble is the key to Earth's salvation. A "Journey's End" fix-it.

Remembering*

Some secrets only come out years later. Some promises are hard to keep. Wilfred Mott and Sylvia Noble have kept theirs for most of their lives. A Journey's End Fix-it.

~TimeLady!Donna

Hiraeth*

This idea came from listening to the Shada audio-book soon after watching Journey's End.

Donna lives a reasonably happy and quite successful life after the Doctor sealed her memories. Then, she meets another Time Lord. He mistakes her for someone else.

~Donna gets taken to Gallifrey. Lovely fic

This Much I Know*

Vignettes from a happy life.

Or less theatrically:

Silly little ficlets inspired by the Buzzfeed list '21 Things Girl-Boy Best Friends Just Get.'

Creature Fear*

A security breach aboard the TARDIS forces Donna to face one of her oldest childhood fears. Will she be able to conquer it in time to save the Doctor's life?

In His Universe*

A new redhead mysteriously returns to the TARDIS. Now she has to find her place with a Doctor she doesn't know, a perturbed Amy and her adorable Rory. No one is quite sure what they're doing; they may all very will kill each other before they can figure it out.

The Abandoned*

They have both waited so very long.

Close Encounters of the Invisible Kind* WIP

The Doctor picks up a new companion - without having a clue that he does so. This is why you shouldn't go checking out creepy houses. (Tumblr fic prompt request)

~Anything by this author is amazing!

Just a Bite* WIP

The Doctor has a strange encounter on the Planet of Eternal Night. Now Donna has to deal with a peckish Time Lord.

The Best Laid Plans* Mature

A baby story Doctor/Donna style.

~I love the writing style in this fic, also A+ for realistic labor scene.

Platonic* Mature

“It’s completely platonic,” Donna explains to her mother for the fifth time, preoccupied with watching the Doctor and Wilf tinker away with the television in the adjacent room. She hears the whir of the screwdriver and rolls her eyes. He can’t resist.

“I’m just saying, you do an awful lot of touching,” Sylvia mutters, and she says ‘touching’ like it’s the filthiest conceivable activity. “I know what you’re like.”

Denial isn't a river.

The Gaia Gene* Mature

 “I’m not scared,” Donna lied. She knew the Doctor didn’t believe her, but even the fake show of confidence helped a little bit. She wished she could hold his hand. She needed to know that he was there. And all of this because of a distress signal they hadn’t even found yet.

Confiding in the Storm* Explicit

“You know, I could always hypnotise you, if you want. Just in case you're curious if it’s worth the fantasies.” When the Doctor finds out about Donna’s fantasies, he is keen to help her try it out. Neither expected their experiment to become so much more.

Just Let It Sink In* Explicit

Donna gets to relax after another day of exhausting running…and so does the Doctor.

To Err is Human*Explicit

Donna is the (un)lucky companion stuck in 1913 this time around. What's a girl to do in a time of knee-length knickers? Mostly, she blames the TARDIS. (Human Nature/Family of Blood episodes)

Not Important* Explicit

Authors description(not me): This is a "Shag or Die" it is also the only explicit work I've ever written (or ever will, more than likely). It is a story told in three parts.

To my Master Post of Doctor Who fic recs <3

I also have rec lists for Harry Potter and Naruto.

#doctor who #doctor who fic recs #donna noble #10th doctor #fic recs #tenth doctor

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mondkendrick · 6 years

Text

Meet Blithe. She’s an excellent new pop entity

Blithe Saxon’s single Mission came out this week, and jolly good it is too. The song first made its way to Popjustice alongside the rest of the tracks that will probably form her debut EP, and there’s some big stuff on its way.

What most stood out from listening to the new tracks was just how much personality seemed to be tumbling out of the songs. Blithe seemed like a new popstar worth getting to know.

So a few weeks ago we met in London for a fact finding mission disguised as lunch. An interview, is how some people would describe the whole scenario.

Here’s what was unearthed.

Blithe says she sounds contemporary and relatable and “very pop but with a dark undertone and a soulful influence” which, well, is the same as everyone else, but Blithe does do it very well. “The subject matters can be hard hitting but the music sounds quite fun,” she continues, explaining that artists she would be happy to see on the ‘Fans Also Like’ section of her Spotify profile include Billie Eilish, Troye Sivan, Khalid, Rihanna, Camila Cabello and Bebe Rexha.

Blithe’s first concert involved seeing Beyoncé, with her mum, in 2007. “The concert that changed me was Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream tour when I was 14: I elbowed my way to the front and cried my eyes out. I knew I wanted my pop career to look something like that — a spectacle, and beautiful, and amazing. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. It really changed me.”

Blithe grew up in Rugby. Her dad (“an arsehole … I don’t care if we’re related or not”) is out of the picture but Blithe’s mum brought her up on Mariah, garage, and mixtape CDs she got off her mates. “She’s super independent,” Blithe says. “She was piss-poor and moved from Coventry to Rugby with nothing, but she worked her arse off and eventually started managing cafés and restaurants. She’s the most inspiring person ever.”

Blithe’s releasing her music independently, which is what a lot of artists say when actually they’re secretly signed to a big record label, or are about to be. “It’s really independent!” is her comment on that. “I don’t think I do anything the right way, or how other people perceive I should do it,” she adds, saying that she’s using her independence to “release what I want when I want, and choose my team, and who’s involved.” So there you go. We’re saying Polydor by Feb.

Her Instagram feed 1 reveals that, yes, she’s been to LA, and, yes, she’s had a photo taken at the pink Paul Smith wall. The pink wall is strange, isn’t it? If Paul Smith had tried to create something Instagrammable it probably would have sunk without a trace, but simply painting a wall pink became something unstoppable. WHAT, ONE WONDERS, will be Blithe’s ‘pink wall’ — the thing about her persona that future fans obsess over? “I tried to manufacture things early on and I realised it’s so secondary,” she says. “Early on I really wanted that manufactured thing: I wanted to be perfect, I wanted it to be ‘oh my God she doesn’t do anything wrong’. I’ve scaled all that back and I’m trying to focus on what’s primary to what I’m doing: making music I like that hopefully other people will like. Everything else will come naturally. I’m still on an artistic journey and there’ll come a point where there’s a ‘thing’ I do, I’m sure, but I’m not there yet and I don’t have the energy to focus on that now.”

Sainsbury’s is Blithe’s supermarket of choice. She likes contactless payments. She is not collecting Lego cards, she does not have a Nectar card and no she does not want a receipt. “They do ask you a lot of questions,” she says, and she is right.

We all like an honest popstar, don’t we? But there are shades of grey here. Take Lily Allen and Jesy from Little Mix: both are straightforward people, but at the end of the day only Lily would be likely to tweet that they’d shat themselves. “There’s stuff I’m not ready to talk about,” Blithe says, mysteriously. “I’m not sure yet what it’s appropriate for people to know.” Is some of this stuff already in her songs, if we look hard enough? “Probably,” she laughs. “I’m more on the Lily Allen and Cardi B end of the spectrum than, say, Jesy from Little Mix, but I’m not totally unfiltered.”

In her first flat in London, when she was 16, she and her friends threw stuff off the balcony and accidentally hit a police officer. She didn’t get arrested, but she did have a ‘run in’ with ‘the law’ on another occasion, for WHAT SHE SAYS was being on the receiving end of a fight. “The police were nice actually,” she remembers. “They gave me a Vogue magazine and extra blankets in my cell and the police officer complimented my mugshot, but I didn’t get to keep a copy.”

Blithe’s worked in a lot of London nightclubs. She has, for example, worked on the door at atrocious venues like Mahiki. This leads to the inevitable question: how many ex-members of Blue has she encountered? The answer is: two.

If some of this is starting to sound slightly familiar, read on!!!

Blithe went to Sylvia Young’s school and was in the same year as Dua Lipa. Blithe was only a part time student at Sylvia’s — it’s not as expensive as the full-time option, and she used to catch the train down each week. “I made friends with the teachers and used to sneak into the adult classes,” she adds. “We couldn’t afford to pay for them. Sometimes you’ve just got to find other ways in haven’t you?”

A spell at Sylvia Young’s usually results in hilarious TV ads and appearances in Holby City. Blithe insists none of these exist but she did get some panto work, including Cinderella in Coventry. “It was my first paid performing job and I got fired on the spot for spending too long on my phone and bad time keeping,” she remembers. “I was young. It hurt at the time but then I was like, ‘oh fuck you’. They still paid me and I got Christmas off.”

She admits that things on the panto and theatre school scene probably weren’t helped by the fact that she would turn up “with a nose ring, highlights, tiny shorts with my bum hanging out, and biker boots”. Why did she wear that stuff for a panto? “I didn’t really care,” Blithe decides. “I felt comfortable like that. My singing teacher would make a remark every time but I was like, ‘send me home, except you can’t send me home because I’ve paid to be here’.” So why was it so important for Blithe to challenge authority? Was she wearing all that stuff because she wanted to, or because she knew teachers didn’t want her to? “I think I challenge everything I can,” she sats. “But it was an insecurity thing. I knew subconsciously that those things would bring me attention. Maybe not the most positive attention. But now it’s part of my being. If I tried to contain it I couldn’t.”

But things are better now, right‽ “I get fired a lot,” she admits, when she talks about occasional stints working in clubs. “I don’t really like authority or being told what to do or being treated ‘less than’, and I’ll tell people when that happens, which people aren’t a fan of.” An example, if you please? “Someone will say, ‘Blithe, can you do this thing?’, and I’ll say no, then I’ll go out for a cigarette for half an hour, and then I’ll get fired.” Right. “The last place I got fired from, I called my boss an arsehole. Actually it might have been cunt.” Who among us, etc etc etc.

Blithe believes we should all embrace each other for who we really are rather than some nebulous idea of of perfection. But what about the social media arseholes who ‘really are’ a load of bellends making lives miserable? And what if we think we might be psychopaths or something? “Well, don’t hurt anyone,” Blithe clarifies. “I’m a bit rough round the edges at times — I can be outspoken and trying to hold that in gave me anxiety. I hate being ‘nice’ and forgettable. I’d rather be remarkable, when it comes naturally to me. I don’t want people to walk away and go, ‘what’s her name again?’”

You can tell a lot about someone by how they respond to the question “have you ever fallen in a hole?” In this instance Blithe’s immediate response is to ask whether this relates to “k-hole or pothole?”; she has fallen in neither, she says. When asked what holes she has been in her response is: “Vaginal?”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, feels like an appropriate spot to bring this trot around the paddock of Blithe to an end. There is more to Blithe than meets the eye and there’s presumably more to Blithe than she’s letting on, but in summary:

Blithe is a good popstar.

Blithe makes good pop music.

And that’s just the ideal combo really isn’t it?

. Blithe’s Mission is out now, there’s an EP on its way and she’s all over ‘the socials’.

Note: this feed has undergone an EXTREME tidy up since we spoke, ie she basically deleted everything↩

from Popjustice https://ift.tt/2OMRiTW

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that-writer-girl5 · 7 years

Text

Adventures in the Slow Path {Part Ten//Hundreds of Our Closest Friends}

Saturday rolled around pretty quickly. It was a start to a very wonderful life. Rose wasn’t extremely happy to be sharing her engagement announcement with all of Vitex and the press, but she knew it was what had to be done as Pete and Jackie Tyler’s daughter.

Rose sat on her bed and began thinking about her life growing up on Powell Estate. She had lived there her entire life, until she met the Doctor at nineteen. After she met him, she considered the TARDIS her home. She lived a simple life, Mickey being her best friend and first love. She was happy and although Rose knew that her mum missed her dad, she knew her mum was happy too. After watching her dad die in that street, she realized that no matter what her mum thought about her dad, she would never let Rose’s image of him be anything other than wonderful.

Going back a second time and being there with him, letting him figure out who she was and giving him that second chance her mum didn’t know he had, had helped her mum to realize the loss of him. Her husband loved her and cared for her. Now, she had that. After meeting this world’s Pete, Rose discovered that he was harder than her other dad. He had seen more, he was more jaded. After Cybermen had taken his Jackie, he had lost what her mum had lost. The love of their lives. Rose knew what it felt like to lose the love of your life. And all three of them knew what it was like to get them back, albeit not in the same fashion, but in a way that worked for them.

Rose's thoughts were disrupted when the Doctor walked into the room.

“You okay?” He said.

“Yeah, fine. What’s up?”

“Just coming in to get my tux,” he shuddered slightly when he said the word.

Rose smiled knowingly. “I always did love you in a tux, ya know? Even though bad things happen when you’re in one.”

“You do, Ms. Tyler? And why’s that?”

“Because you look so sexy,” her tongue poked through her teeth and she made her way to her fiancé. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

The Doctor cleared his throat, “Well, yes. I suppose I’m not all that bad looking in a tux, am I?”

Rose remained firm in her current position, “No, not at all bad looking. Well, you know what, actually, I prefer you out of a tux, with nothing on at all. Makes it easier to do this.”

Rose pushed him on the bed and removed the boxers he had on. She hadn’t yet started getting dressed, so all she had on were her bra and knickers. The Doctor hurriedly removed both of them and she climbed on top of him.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

The Doctor didn’t fall asleep, but Rose had. Legs entwined with his and her head on his chest. He kissed her forehead and remembered his time without Rose. In his best estimate, it is not advisable to go without Rose Tyler in your life once you’ve met her. It’s simply heartbreaking.

He had Martha and Donna, but they weren’t Rose. They helped him cope, but it wasn’t the same feeling he had when Rose was around. The Doctor thought that might have been the biggest issue for Martha. She wasn’t Rose and he was trying to fill the emptiness he had without her, and Martha, or rather no one, could fill that void. Martha wanted to do that and couldn’t. Donna knew she couldn’t and understood. No one can replace the love of your life. Even a life as long as his.

Rose stirred. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he smiled his winning Doctor smile. “Ready to get clothed and get going?”

“Yeah. I think so,” she said, stretching, “Thank you for earlier. I needed that after the week we’ve had.”

“Anytime,” he chuckled. “Don’t act like I've done you a favor.”

“Oh, but you did. That is always a favor to me,” she winked and they both laughed.

Rose went into their en suite and slipped on the blue dress she bought at Cover Up. It was in a protective bag, so the Doctor hadn’t seen it yet. She put on black stockings with black high heels. Her hair up in a bun using a few bobby pins.

She found herself wearing less makeup the older she got. She wasn’t sure if it was because she knew the Doctor didn’t think she needed it or if it was because she felt confident enough not to have to. Maybe a combination of both. She opted to just wear a little mascara and lip gloss.

As she walked out, her date was standing there looking as gorgeous as ever. He had on a traditional black and white tux.

“You look gorgeous, Rose. TARDIS blue? Perfect.”

“Don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.”

He bowed his arm, “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

They were advised by Jackie, the one-woman party-planning committee, to arrive fashionably late, so that they would be the centre of attention. They both commented how they would be the centre of attention regardless, considering the party was for them, but Jackie would have none of that.

They arrived at the Tyler Mansion at about fifteen past seven.

“Perfect timing, Sweetheart. Donna and her family are here. They will be sitting at your table in front. After you get settled and do your meet and greet, your dad will announce the big news. Don’t forget to offer a dance with the investors and such.” She looked to the Doctor. “Especially, you. The lady investors love you, so woe ‘em.”

Jackie walked away and back to Pete, as if her requests were completely normal.

Rose walked around, greeting everyone she saw, as did the Doctor. Rose counted at least seven promises to dance and after they met up at the table with Donna, Shaun, Wilf and Sylvia, the Doctor counted fifteen promised dances.

The room became quiet as Pete made his way to the podium.

“Good evening, Vitex employees, investors and family. As you probably know, I am Pete Tyler, owner of Vitex, Incorporated. My wife, Jackie and I have asked you here today to announce some very exciting news. Our daughter, Rose, has agreed to a proposal from Doctor John Smith. The wedding will held in a private ceremony in five weeks time.”

The room erupted with excited chatter. Everyone, it seemed, was approaching the Doctor and Rose to congratulate them on their upcoming nuptials. Trying to make her way through the crowd, the Doctor spotted Marie and a man she looked quite similar to.

“Is that Owen Harper?” The Doctor asked Rose.

“Yup, that’s him.”

Finally, Marie made her way to the couple.

“Doctor, Rose,” she nodded to Rose, “congratulations again. Rose, you know my brother Owen. Doctor, this is my brother, Owen Harper. The invitation said I could bring a plus one.”

“Oh, that is great. Nice to meet you, Doctor Harper.”

“It’s Owen, mate.”

“Right! Okay, then. Did you bring any of the your other team? Gwen, Toshiko, Ianto, perhaps?”

Rose had told the Doctor of Pete’s World Cardiff Torchwood team, but said there had been no Captain Jack Harkness in the company on record. But of course, he had met the other Gwen and Ianto.

“I believe Pete invited them. They must be here somewhere. Gwen brought her husband, Rhys,” he said, with a grimace.

Right on cue, two faces the Doctor recognized joined the group, along with a woman and a man they had never met.

The woman he recognized as Gwen spoke first. “Congratulations! I’m Gwen Cooper-Williams. This is my husband Rhys,” she said extending her hand for a shake and pointing to Rhys with the other. “I work with Owen at Torchwood Three. I run the place now. We’ve heard so much about you. And it’s nice to finally see you in person, Ms. Tyler.”

“Call me, Rose. He’s just called the Doctor,” Rose smiled, shaking her hand in return. “You must be Ianto Jones. Pleased to meet you,” Rose said to the handsome stoic man.

“You as well, ma’am.”

“No use in getting him to call you Rose. He calls all of us ‘ma’am’ and I’m only slightly older,” the other woman they didn’t recognized finally spoke up.

“You must be Toshiko Sato,” the Doctor extended his hand. He then realized he had met her before, albeit briefly and with a different set of eyes. He was dealing with the Slitheen invasion and she was examining a pig from space.

The Doctor soon realized that Owen and Toshiko were not present during his and Rose’s encounter with Gwen and Ianto and he briefly wondered why.

“Yes, sir. You can call me Tosh. I’m the tech expert at Torchwood Three. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, Tosh. Call me Doctor or John. Please.”

“Of course,” she smiled, shyly.

“Now, for a really important question,” the Doctor began. “Have any of you heard of a man by the name of Captain Jack Harkness? American accent, bit flirty, not unattractive.” Rose nodded at the last description.

“No, sir,” Ianto piped up. The Doctor decided not to correct him.

“No, huh? That’s too bad, then, isn’t it, Rose?”

“Yeah. Real, real bad. Would have been nice to catch up with him. Guess he went back to America, didn’t he?”

“Guess so.” This exchange was in a very playful Doctor and Rose manner. They both knew the possibility of them knowing Jack was slim, but it was worth a shot.

Donna sat in her chair, sipping on the margarita she had ordered at the beginning of the night. She was holding in a fit of laughter, because she too remembered that handsome man called Captain Jack Harkness.

“May I have a word, Rose?” Surprisingly, it was Tosh that requested the sidebar.

“Sure! Doctor, can you hold this, please?” She handed him her glass of champagne and he took it silently.

Rose led Tosh to what used to be her room when she lived there. It was secluded enough from the party, that whatever Tosh was about to tell her, no one would hear it.

“What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I know about you.”

“About me? What do you mean?”

“I know you aren’t from here. Not this Earth, I mean. You and the Doctor came from another Earth. See, I was seeing this girl, Mary, and she worked on the Dimension Cannon team. She told me how you were tirelessly looking for him. She let slip that there was no sign of a Rose Tyler ever being born here and that one day, you just appeared and your parents said you were away at boarding school. I’ve not told anyone, and never will. I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone in the knowledge. If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me.”

“Thank you, Tosh. Especially for keeping it a secret. If this gets out,...”

“I know. I haven’t even told Gwen.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, again. I’d like to casually invite you and your team to the wedding in five weeks. You will receive a formal invitation soon though.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you. By the way, the man the Doctor mentioned. Captain Jack Harkness?” Rose nodded. “I’ve met him. He was an American soldier. Handsome, flirtatious. Just like the Doctor described him. How do you know him?”

“I knew him in the other world. He was the head of Torchwood Three. When I first met him, he was a time agent posing as a soldier. We met during the London Blitz. Called me Rosie,” she reminisced. “He was a charmer, that one.”

Tosh nodded, “Well, I know he’s in America now. He was in Cardiff on vacation. I met him at a bar one night when Ianto, Owen and I went out after work. I was the only one that saw him. He seemed down. Said he was drinking his sorrows away. It never got more detailed than that, but then that night, I looked him up. Not for any particular reason, other than the fact that he looked different than any soldier I’d ever seen. He wore a World War Two trench coat. I found out he was in his mid-thirties, had been in the military for about fifteen years and he was unmarried. Nothing too interesting about him, really. Just a lonely soldier.”

“Well, the Jack I knew was definitely not uninteresting. Thank you, Tosh. I’ll tell the Doctor. He’ll probably be happy to know that Jack exists, even if he doesn’t try to find him.”

“No problem. Shall we?” Tosh nodded towards the door.

“Sure!”

The ladies made their way back to the party, where Rose had discovered the Doctor had already invited their new friends to the wedding.

Later that night, when Rose and the Doctor made their way back to their flat, they hurriedly changed into pajamas. Rose hadn’t decided how or if she would tell the Doctor about Jack. Would it make any difference? It wasn’t the same person and what happened with Donna would never happen with Jack. Jack wasn’t even meant to be in this century, let alone in this universe, which would make figuring out his situation even more difficult.

After a few minutes of quiet reflection, she surmised it would be best to not mention anything about Jack. Maybe after the wedding when they had more time to focus on things of an unordinary nature.

“So, what’d Tosh want to speak with you about?” The Doctor sat down next to Rose and took her in his arms.

“Well, she actually knows about us. About how I’m not from here and how I built the Dimension Cannon to find you. She dated a girl on my team who told her everything, but she promised to not tell anyone and I trust her.”

“Yeah. She seems nice enough. We’ll let Pete know she knows so he can look out if things don’t seem right.”

“Yeah.” Rose yawned. “I’m headed to bed. You coming?”

“Yep. Right behind you.”

Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who.

#doctor who #dw #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #rose tyler #tenth doctor #tentoo #donna noble #wilf mott #sylvia noble #gwen cooper #rhys williams #marie harper #owen harper #ianto jones #toshiko sato #pete tyler #jackie tyler

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that-writer-girl5 · 7 years

Text

Adventures in the Slow Path {Part Nine//Shopping with an Heiress}

The next day, Donna was getting ready to go to a boutique down the street with Rose. She was excited to spend a little outside-of-work time with Rose and to get to know her better.

She checked her clock. Rose would there any minute, so she went outside.

As she got in, she said, “Thank you so much for inviting me to come along with you, Rose.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure! I haven’t got any girlfriends. It will be nice to have one now, as long as you don’t mind being around your boss that much.”

“Are you kidding me? I love it! And you know, since I remember everything that the Doctor and I did, it will be nice being around him too. I have to get that man to eat though.” Both women laughed.

“Here we are.”

“'Cover Up'. Well that’s a clever name, isn’t it? I think this place is fairly new. I don’t remember it being here for more than a few months,” Donna said.

“Yeah. It’s new. I’m not sure if you have a Henrik’s here either. On our world, I used to work at a department store called Henrik’s and that’s where I met the Doctor. He actually blew it up the day I met him. To stop an attack. It was the best day of my life.”

“Henrik’s does exist here. Why was it the best day of your life? Because you met the love of your life or you didn’t have to go back to work?” Donna chuckled.

“A little of both, I reckon. Although at the time, he had big ears and a letter jacket. Still attractive, but not the same man you see now.”

They walked in and began to browse.

“What do you think, Donna?” Rose held up a blue dress.

“TARDIS blue,” she whispered. “Try it on.”

“Try some dresses on yourself. You’ll need two. I think our wedding colors are going to be blue and black. That’s a bruise,” Rose realized. “Oh well. The groomsmen will be wearing black tuxes with blue accents and you’ll be in black. I don’t have a specific style so any black dress will do.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh,” Rose laughed. “I forgot to ask. Will you be my matron-of-honour?”

“Me? You don’t even know me. I’m honoured, but why me?”

“I know you, the other you, well enough to know that we get on. You were the Doctor’s best mate and I think given time, we will be too. If you don’t want to, I understand completely.”

“Not want to? I’d love to. So black, you said?”

Donna began looking for a dress to wear at the party, while keeping an eye out for a suitable matron-of-honour dress. She found a great dress, in chocolate brown, for the party, but then she noticed the price was way out of her budget and buying two was completely out of the question. She quickly texted Shaun and asked if they had any wiggle room for them to be able to buy the dress for Saturday and she would just figure out the wedding dress later. He told her to go ahead and get it.

“Who ya textin’?” Rose asked Donna in a playful tone.

“Oh, just Shaun. I wanted to ask him which account I should use to buy my dress,” she lied. She was pretty sure Rose knew she wasn’t as wealthy as a Tyler, but she didn’t want her to know she was living paycheck to paycheck either.

“Don’t be silly! The dresses are on me.”

“Seriously? Both of them?”

“Yeah. Both of them. Now go try on that one. I like it. I’ll look around for some black ones for you to try on.”

Donna made her way to the dressing room and tried on the chocolate brown dress she found. She examined herself in the mirror, swishing the bottom of the dress from left to right. She decided it suited her nicely and she stepped out to get Rose’s opinion.

As soon as Rose saw Donna, she gasped. “You are beautiful. I love it on you. I found these for you to try on.” Rose held out two black dresses and Donna took her favorite and made her way back to try it on.

She went back into the dressing room and tried on the dress Rose picked out. It fit her nicely and it accented the right parts of her body. She decided this was it. “‘Kay. I got my dresses. Did the blue one work out for you?”

“Yup, got it right here,” she said holding up an arm covered in dresses. Donna assumed Rose’s was buried under hers.

They made their way to the check-out and Rose pulled out her credit card and paid the clerk.

“Thank you, Ms. Tyler. See you next time.”

“Thank you, Shareen.”

As they walked out of the boutique, Rose shook her head in disbelief.

“What’s wrong?”

“That girl was my best mate in high school on my world. We are exactly the same age and she is calling me Ms. Tyler. Oh, how times have changed,” she grinned.

“Yeah, they have, haven’t they?”

They made their way back to Donna’s house, laughing the whole way back at some of the Doctor’s many quirks.

“Do you ever catch him checking himself out in the mirror?” Donna asked.

“Yes! All the time! He is so obsessed with his hair. I hate to see when he starts getting greys. All hell with break loose, won’t it?”

“I know it did when I started finding them amongst the red. Gotta keep on top of that.” They laughed.

When they pulled up to Donna’s flat, she got out with the two big dress bags in her arms. “Thank you so much for the dresses, Rose. See you Saturday, then?” She said through the window.

“Yep. The limo will be by to pick you up at six o’clock. Does Shaun and your granddad have formal attire? If not, I can send my dad’s tailor over to fit them. Also, does your mom need a dress?”

“No, the guys have their tuxes from my wedding. My mom has the dress she wore, so she will be set too.”

“‘Kay! Let me know if you need anything before Saturday. If not, I’ll see you then!”

“See you!”

Donna made her way to her door, giddy as a schoolgirl. She had made a friend, reunited with a friend she hadn’t been aware she had and now, she was the matron-of-honour in Rose Tyler and Doctor John Smith’s wedding. Her life had changed so much in the last couple days and she couldn’t have been happier.

Rose called the Doctor using the car’s Bluetooth system. He answered after two or three rings, “Hello, my beautiful bride-to-be.”

“Well, hello, handsome,” she chuckled. “I just dropped Donna off back at her house and she agreed to be my matron-of-honour, so she got a dress for that too. Also Shareen called me, ‘Ms. Tyler.’”

The Doctor laughed. “You are, Ms. Tyler. She doesn’t know you in this world, so it’s a sign of respect.”

“Yeah, this is coming from the man who corrects people anytime they call you Doctor Smith. ‘Call me John or Doctor,’” she mocked.

“Yeah. I suppose. Are you coming back to work or going home?”

“I don’t have anything to do today at work, so I’ll head to Mum’s and talk to her about wedding stuff. She’ll love that.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Shaun was home from work and Gramps and Mum were in the kitchen gabbing about the president’s new policies. Donna didn’t much care for politics, so she made her way to her and Shaun’s bedroom to tell him the news.

“Hello, Darling,” Shaun greeted his wife as she walked in the room.

“Hiya! Guess what! You will never guess what happened not even an hour ago.”

“What?”

“Well, first off, I didn’t pay a dime for these two dresses,” she said, holding the dresses up in each hand. She lowered the black dress and held up the brown one. “This one is for the party on Saturday. Wait ‘til you see me in it,” she winked and lowered it, in favor of raising up the black one. “The one is for the wedding. I have to match the rest of the wedding party, don’t I?”

“Wait, what? The wedding party? You’re in the wedding?”

“Yes, Mr. Temple. Your wife is the matron-of-honour at Rose Tyler and Doctor John Smith’s wedding!”

“How’d you swing that gig, love? That is awesome, by the way!”

“Well, she said that she thinks we could become best mates and she hasn’t got any other girlfriends, so she asked me.”

Donna was still on the fence about whether to tell Shaun about already knowing the Doctor and Rose. Gramps always believed in aliens and parallel universes, so it was easy telling him. Besides, he had sort of figured out that some supernatural being fixed the sky when the stars were going out and so it was easy for her to explain that his full Time Lord self had done that. Gramps always took things in stride anyway.

Shaun and Mum, on the other hand, were always so skeptical about people and what their motives were. When it came to Donna, they were way too overprotective and always believed that people had an ulterior motive, especially since Mum lived through the Lance fiasco and she played it up to Shaun so convincingly.

“I’m very happy for you. It’s sort of weird getting that close with your boss though, isn’t it? I mean, she’s your boss. Why would you want to?”

“She’s a really sweet girl and she makes…” she had to pause, remembering to call the Doctor, John, “John, so happy.”

“You know him less than you know her. Why are you so concerned with his happiness?”

“They are nice people. I want people to be happy and they make each other happy. Besides, I care about others.”

“Since when?” Shaun joked.

“Since now,” she laughed.

She began to make her way to the kitchen, hoping that Gramps and Mum were done talking politics and to tell them the news.

Donna burst into the kitchen, “Guess who will be standing in the Tyler-Smith wedding!”

“It must be you, Sweetheart,” Gramps stated, excitedly.

“It is, indeed, Gramps. I have been asked to be Rose Tyler’s matron-of-honour. I have to plan her hen party, don’t I? What does an heiress enjoy doing for a hen party? She told me she hasn’t got any other friends. That’s sad, really. Maybe we’ll just have a girls’ night at the club. Drinking and dancing, eh? That sounds fun.”

“You’ll figure it out, my darling. You always do.” Gramps clapped his hands together, “Sylvia, our Donna is making us so proud, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, Dad. She is.” Mum said with an eye roll and a pout.

“Oh, Mum. Can’t you ever be excited for me?”

“I’m excited, I’m excited. Just you barely know her is all. Why would she ask a person she barely knows to be a bridesmaid, let alone a matron-of-honour.”

“Oh, can it, Sylvia. Just be happy for her, for Pete’s sake. Stop being so suspicious,” Gramps piped up, with a little wink at Donna.

“Alright, alright. I’m happy for you, Dear. Dad, we have to get our things to the dry cleaners. Shaun too,” she said to Donna. “Were you able to get a dress. Shaun said you were dress shopping.”

“Yeah. I got both of them. She paid for them too.”

“That’s lovely. Very nice of her.”

Donna could tell her mum was trying, but was having a difficult time accepting this sudden friendship, but Donna knew she’d have a harder time accepting that she was friends with a man who was half-alien, half-her and his heiress bride-to-be from another universe. She had to admit that if she hadn’t mentally lived through it, she would doubt it herself.

#doctor who #dw #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #rose tyler #tenth doctor #tentoo #donna noble #shaun temple #wilf mott #sylvia noble

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