the favoured

[dom-dupont]

devdupont​:

Dev’s frown was immediate. Usually, her and Dom’s thoughts and opinions aligned. She would say something and he would agree. She would plan something and he would follow. It was how they worked, it was what kept them alive, it was what she was used to. Now though, it seemed they were at a crossroads. Over Hugo of all people too. 

“Why am I being suspicious? Dom, the man worked for our parents. The spawns of Satan. And what? We’re suppose to believe that he pops up out of the blue for no reason with good intentions?” For a moment she wondered if she was being cynical. For a moment, she wondered if maybe this was just her personal feelings towards the man, how she had trusted he would find them all those years ago, look for them because he cared about them. 

But he didn’t. 

“He doesn’t care about us, Dominic. If he cared, he would have found us and brought us home when we needed him. He would have kept us safe when we escaped. But he didn’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest as her frown deepened. “I did.” 

-

Dom wanted to escape this conversation immediately, to wrap himself around his convictions and shelter them protectively within himself. The ferocity of the urge startled him, for it was the first time in a long time that he’d disagreed so fully with Dev, his sister’s word almost gospel to him when he was younger. 

Others may have said it was a sign of maturity, if they did not realize how much he wanted to do away with this feeling; wishing for the comfort of that blind belief that whatever Dev said was the 100%, irrefutable truth, the comfort of trust in that one single human being, without any amount of question or qualm. 

“Yes, you did save us Dev.” For all his power, Dominic had been nothing but a helpless child in the Institute, trapped, desperate and angry, wanting to find a way out and wrought with self-loathing that he hadn’t been able to do it. “That was never in question. But it doesn’t mean he did not try.” For if Dev hated Hugo for failing to save them, did that mean some part of her felt the same way towards her useless baby brother? 

“I know you do not like him Dev, but he’s not our parents.” He spoke quietly. 

[dom-dupont]

godathcna​:

Athena knew the hospital like the back of her hand. Over the years, she had grown to know every part of it. Usually, she would be grateful to be back here. To be back in the place that had become a home away from home. However, on this particular day, she wished she weren’t here. She wished that she had been asked to go anywhere else for Dom, not here. With her heart in her throat, she barged through the hospital. No one dared to stop her and it wasn’t like she needed them to tell him where his room was. With the dreaded call had come his room number and that had been all she needed.

The moment she arrived at his room, she came to a sudden stop. Now that she was here, she was a little scared. Aside from the nervousness surrounding his injury, there was the fact that her and Dom weren’t exactly… doing well at the moment. They hadn’t been doing well since that blasted event and that moment in the training room certainly hadn’t helped things. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to go to him, to find a way to apologise even if she couldn’t (or didn’t want to) explain why she had done what she did. However, she was scared. Scared that he would turn her away and his hate would remain. It was simply easier to let him avoid her.

It seemed like the world had other plans for them. She just wished it didn’t involved Dom getting hurt.

Swallowing thickly, she knocked on the door, knowing that just walking in could have negative repercussions. “Dom? It’s Athena, may I come in?” It took a fair amount of ability to keep her voice steady, to speak as if things were normal. @dom-dupont​

-

Dom thought it was overkill that Monty insisted that he go to the hospital for his wound (some part of him thought the older man did it to teach him a lesson), but he didn’t argue with him. They brought him into surgery just to clean and inspect the wound for deeper involvement before stitching him up, and some Tetanus shots and bitter-tasting antibiotics later, he was sitting on the bed in a thin hospital gown on a begrudging road to recovery. 

His head shot up slightly at the sudden knock on his door, then upon hearing her voice he felt his body stiffen and his pulse ratchet up in response. While some part of him was immediately grateful, happy for her apparent concern, the way they left things last time sent his thoughts scrambling, not wanting to confront her for old hurts as of yet but knowing he couldn’t deny her the chance to check up on his new ones. 

“Come in.” Dom spoke after a few precious heartbeats, his voice slightly hoarse. He fidgeted slightly, trying to scoot up in his bed, rearrange his body in the best position to receive a visitor with at least some amount of dignity. “Hey...Athena.” He greeted her, softly, as she entered. 

[dom-dupont]

parasympathic​:

It had been a tense drive to the Voodoo, less because of Emil’s commentary on it all and more for the sound of crashing bottles and the thud of bodies in the background. A fresh fear at every distant sound of violence that it would be his Heir’s head going into the bar counter, and he wouldn’t even know until he got there because the bartender wouldn’t risk his neck to take a look so he could tell him.

It made relief the first thing he felt when he walked through the doors, gaze sweeping the place and taking in the few faces that mattered, assuring himself that they were all alive and still breathing. But with that settled, there was still that lingering fear and adrenaline that could only translate into frustration as he made his way across the bar. Taking in every scrape and bruise visible on Dom’s face, afraid to know where any of the blood on his skin came from.  

“Better question; why did anyone have to?” Blowing off the question entirely, not the least of which because he had no intention of throwing the man under a Dom shaped bus. “Why am I getting calls about Dominic Dupont starting a battle royale in the middle of the Voodoo?”

But even for as sharp as his words were, the motions were an all too familiar thing. The gentler grasping of his jaw as he tilted his head up, trying to get an idea how bad his injuries were, all of it fueled by the same concern. “Please. Explain to me. I’d love to know.” 

-

Dominic felt each word of censure like sting of a new wound and he almost flinched when Monty attempted to grasp his jaw and inspect him for any more injuries. The motions were all too familiar, which wasn’t good at all, but at the very least Dom had learned to submit to his Head Significant’s examinations with uncharacteristic meekness. 

“Was it Sel who called you?” Still, that did not mean he couldn’t identify who snitched on him - not that he could hold it against them. While it seemed almost impossible for Selwyn to call Monty as she also participated in said fight, he would not put it past her. “She fought too, I’ll have you know-” He spoke, almost petulant, going back to the days when Monty had to deal with errant Endine children - their long-suffering babysitter. Though she didn’t get herself hurt in the process. He didn’t add, not wanting to draw attention to his wound as of yet. 

Yet it was almost inevitable that Monty would notice the way he carefully held his arm close too his body to prevent it from being jostled too much, the way he attempted to nonchalantly apply pressure on the wound with a clean towel and the smallest signs of a grimace. “That was the guy who shot Teddy.” He hoped his explanation would be somewhat of a distraction, at least for now. “And he was bragging about it, Monty.” His brow furrowed slightly. He was fucking bragging about hurting my friend. 

[el-demaury]

[dom-dupont]

devdupont​:

-

“Hugo.” There was no need to beat around the bush. Not with Dominic, especially when it came to the man that seemed all too comfortable flouncing into their town like it was okay. Like he had the right to see them after all these years… and with such a pathetic excuse as his. 

He cared about them. Ha, what a load of bullshit. 

“I don’t like that he’s here. Something’s off, and while I figure out what it is, I don’t want you interacting with him.” She wagged her finger in front of his face just as her mother did to her when they were children. 

“Him and his handsome face with his expensive suits and his designer perfume…” She tried very hard to keep the wistfullness and envy out of her voice… she only partially succeeded. “What the fuck is he doing here? Thinking he can show up out of the blue like that!” She could feel herself going into hysterics. 

“You agree, right? Right, Dom?” 

With each word, Dom felt his spine stiffen, his brow furrow, and he gave into his instinct to cross his arms protectively over his chest. What was Dev saying? How could she not trust Hugo - the one adult in their shared, sad excuse of a childhood who deigned to give them the time of day? Hugo may not have been overtly affectionate - his tall, imposing countenance did not help, after all - but he was kind to Dom and he listened. He sometimes would even joke with him, ruffle his hair when he said something mildly defiant or outright amusing, and it took all of Dom’s willpower back then to not latch onto his outstretched hand and hold on for dear life. 

“Why are you being so suspicious, Dev?” His tone was beseeching though his words were accusatory, and Dom attempted to soften the heat in them by reaching out to grasp his sister’s hands in his. “He may not be perfect, but he was much more of a paternal figure to us than our father every was. Fuck, I know using our dear ol’ dad as a point of reference is absolute bullshit, but at least Hugo thought to teach me instead of disparage me every time I failed or stepped a toe out of line.” After all, his parents would only glance in his direction after he’d won or attained a certain achievement - in turn, Hugo had been there every time Dom fell just short of it. 

“He said he cares about us.” Dom was rarely so stubborn with his sister, but this was a long-awaited revelation so he clung to it desperately. “Why are you so quick to deny it?” 

[dom-dupont]

Closed starter for @parasympathic​

The adrenaline was wearing off and Dom, distantly, could already feel the piercing pain of the cut on his upper arm. He felt his stomach swoop slightly when he gingerly felt out the wound’s edge with his opposite hand, his fingertips came back marked in red. 

Dom grabbed the nearest piece of clean cloth he could find, pressing it to the wound to staunch the bleeding. He then continued to watch the rest of the proceedings, grim-faced, as the local police cuffed and escorted Teddy’s attacker and his cronies out, under the careful watch of Selwyn. While he’s had his fair share of bruises and broken bones, this was one of the handful of real fights he’d ever been in throughout his life, against someone who was actually hellbent on causing him pain. 

He still thought it was worth it. 

Dom was leaning on a table facing the entrance as he nursed his wound, so he witnessed the exact moment he entered the bar. A burst of emotions rioted in his chest, a mixture of shock, guilt, and defensiveness, his face working to try and express them all as his Head Significant strode over, his pristine appearance offset by Dom’s scuffed up and bloodied state. 

“Hi Monty...” Dom tried for a grin but it fell short, subtly angling his body so the older man wouldn’t be greeted by his injury at first glance. 

“So...who called you this time?” He joked weakly. 

[dom-dupont]

nitasamsaradavid​:

Nita had managed to hold off fighting at the Pit for the entirety of her stay in Asphodel, a clear point in defense of her self-restraint. It was, however, perhaps the only point in her defense, and it was one she’d finally given up on after a week of lectures and ‘control’ training. Her Mentors had pointedly refused to let her spar since the Solstice incident, insisting that she needed to learn how not to throw a punch before learning to throw a better one. 

Nita, unsurprisingly, took matters into her own hands.

Unfortunately today had to be the day that they were running some bullshit tournament with two on two style matches. Her disinterest in teamwork was just barely outweighed by her eagerness to let out her pent up frustration, so Nita threw her hat in the ring despite the circumstances. Now, finally in the ring to hit something, some asshole interrupted the start of the match. A rather familiar asshole in fact.

She shot him a quizzical look, hands slightly raised as she waited for some explanation. Maybe he thought they’d really bonded or some shit last week, or maybe he really was as hot-headed as she was. Whatever the reason, it gave him enough fierce determination to sway the facilitator who, after a moment’s hesitation, waved off her previous partner who left with plenty of indignant huffing. 

“Alright, you’re with Sam. Ollie cool off, you’re in next round,” he assured. “Bo and Remi, you still good?” The pair across from them, a scrappy young Chinese woman and gruff-looking ginger, each nodded after assessing the change, seemingly unconcerned. In fact, at least one of them looked like they were smiling. “Good, when I clear the ring, it’s a go. And no more substitutions.”

-

It would have been comical really, if Dom considered it from an outsider’s point of view - he felt his brow crease in confusion when the facilitator herded the pair of them to one side of the ring, when clearly Dom should go to the other end so he and Sam could properly face off. He felt his mouth gape open little by little, when the man turned to them and robotically ran through the mechanics of this new, two-on-two style match, simultaneously slapping on a pair of blue colored wristbands on each of them, effectively sealing Dom’s fate. 

“You-” He choked out when the announcement rang across the speakers, Theo and Sam versus Bo and Remi echoing across the Pit floor - an announcement that was met with piercing, raucous cheers. Dom sputtered as he was shoved into the ring, his sneakers skidding slightly as he scrambled for purchase, both his mind and his body thrown off balance by the sudden turn of events. 

“AAAAAAND-” The dramatic pause of the commentator was so familiar that if it had been any other match Dom, would have been primed and ready at this point. Yet he couldn’t help his own immobility as he stared - still rendered useless by shock - at his new fighting partner, the very same person he’d been hoping to teach a lesson. “-BEGIN!” 

[dom-dupont]

selwyndalessi​:

The laughter abruptly stopped. The only warning was a low growl as the criminal shot up, glaring at younger man, who he assumed to be the same one that had pulled the chair out from under him. His friends stared at the scene in puzzlement, though there was the undeniable clenching of jaws that signaled they were gearing up for a fight. 

“I said, he deserved it,” the criminal spat, matching Dom’s tone with one of equal malice. He turned to his friends. “What is it with this town and these pretty boys thinking they can play at the adult table?” He reached under his jacket, and the cold glint of metal shone even in the dim lighting of the bar.

Well, shit. 

It was rare for Selwyn to use profanity, though this situation seemed to more than warrant it, as she watched the perpetrator and his friends squaring up against Dom through the mind of an onlooker. Dom, because of course it would be Dominic Dupont who would ruin her plans of keeping the entire encounter away from the public with his quick temper. She abandoned her post altogether, rushing inside the bar and snatching the first piece of silverware she found, throwing it with stunning accuracy to knock the knife out of the hand of the perpetrator. A knife that he had every intention of brandishing against Dom. 

The clink of metal against metal marked the eruption of chaos, the criminal and his friends springing into action all at once, synchronized from their years fighting together, while the other patrons of the bar scrambled outside as Selwyn sent out an illusion to everyone except the involved parties and the bartender — the sound of a fire alarm. She wove against the tide of the crowd, ending up at Dom’s side. “My childhood nickname for you proves to hold even against the test of time,” she leveled, “Dom Dom.” 

@emilianopavone​

Dom was primed, ready for a fight, his body thrumming with adrenaline and anger and the kind of worry that twisted his insides into knots. What he wasn’t ready for was Selwyn suddenly appearing at this side, her expression equal parts cool and furious.

Dom’s gaze tracked the skittering of the knife against the floor as Sel cleanly knocked it out of the brute’s hand, but he knew that didn’t mean his enemy was now unarmed. The stance he fell into suggested that he knew how to fight, his muscles coiled and the edge of his smile vicious. From the outset, it may have already seemed like the odds were not in their favor - they were outnumbered, their enemies were much larger, and they all seemed to share the same bullheaded single-mindedness that drove them to such needless violence.

Dom’s answering smile was fleeting, his eyes wide and bright. 

“Don’t call me that.” Dom replied back, but it was more out of instinct than anything else. He glanced sideways at Selwyn, trying to gauge her intentions - would she fight alongside him, or would she stop him? “That’s the asshole that attacked Teddy.” He pointed out, as if she needed a summation of his Reasons, when it was clear that she’d been following the man in question already - that was the only possible explanation for her being here at the right place, the right time. 

“He shot him, Selwyn.” 

[dom-dupont]

theodoreclairmont​:

He had a high pain tolerance. If he hadn’t been born with it, then his time at the Institute cemented his ability to grit his teeth against most types of injuries. Yet no one seemed to believe him, from Balian keeping watch during his hours off duty to Selwyn brooding in the corner and glaring at him every time he attempted to move around. He’d thought that the one good thing to come out of the wound would be a free pass to make jokes and shoot finger guns, but the glares seemed to hold even more anger now. 

It was during a rare occasion of alone time when he heard the knocking. Teddy had been in the middle of dancing to the Macarena — his body had been itching to dance for days, though he knew that if he even attempted to twerk, his bodyguards would most likely knock him out just to get him to lie down again. The sharp pain at his side indicated that they were right to worry, but the thrill of disobeying doctors’ orders offset most of it.

So it was with a slight frown that Teddy opened the door, lamenting the loss of his freedom. 

But the sight that greeted him was well worth it. 

His best friend! Grouchy and angry as ever. “Domination!” he grinned, ignoring the immediate question that left the other man’s lips. He stepped away from the door, signaling for Dom to enter. “What are you doing here?” A pause in which his eyes grew wide with wonder and fondness. “Are you here to kiss my wound and make it better?” 

-

Dom’s honest to god reaction to all of his teasing and goading was to shove him where it hurt, but he held back out of some odd, unsettling sense of worry - his relationship with Teddy had always been complicated, after all. They’d been pitted against each other so many times by the Institute that it had been difficult to draw the line between his true enemies and the man who stood before him. 

Then, Teddy would turn around after a fight to face him, bright smile in place despite his bruised face and declare, quite publicly, that he cared for both him and Dev. Like some oblivious idiot. Honestly, complicated was too simple of a word to describe their relationship. 

“I heard you got yourself shot.” Like a fool. Dom said in reply instead, his voice a dry monotone, his eyes raking over his body, trying to identify the exact place he was injured. 

“I came up here-” He swallowed painfully, as if the words were being ripped out from his throat. “-to see how you were doing.” 

[dom-dupont]

devdupont​:

@dom-dupont​

Something was off. It wasn’t too obvious, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was off nonetheless. She clasped her hands together in thought as she paced the floor of her room, brows furrowed and lips pursed because if there was one thing Devery Dupont did not care for, it was to have something mess with her carefully curated atmosphere. 

She popped a skittle into her mouth (she was eating processed white sugar, for crying out loud) before turning at the sound of her door opening. 

“Come in, Dominic, quickly.” She muttered, pulling him in and popping her head out of her room to make sure the coast was clear. Once she was content that they were alone, she closed the door and turned to her brother with narrowed eyes. “I don’t like this.” 

-

When Dev had texted him that “they had to talk”, Dom felt his brow crease and his stomach drop at the same time, his mind racing through all of the possibilities. Did she find out about his matches at the Pit? Or how he oh so casually instigated a fight with the asshole bragging about shooting Teddy at Voodoo? Or maybe how he challenged the woman who had attacked Monty and ended up fighting alongside her in some unexpected plot twist?

Dom wore his guilt like a weight on his shoulders as she pulled him into her room, his thoughts loud and chaotic, his pulse fluttering like a bird poised to take flight and flee. Dev was, without a doubt, the most important person in his life and every secret he kept from her felt like an aching, gaping hole in his chest. He steeled himself for her censure, her disappointment, though at that moment he attempted to mask his emotions with a hesitant, subdued smile. 

“Don’t like what, sis?” Dom’s throat was painfully dry. His nails dug crescent moons into his palm. “Tell me.” 

[dom-dupont]

didixweber​:

***

Didi’s quiet through it all, watching as Dom takes the small trinket from him, turning it over in his hands. While he’d been mostly fascinated with history and especially the history of magic, his own collection of trinkets like this had remained just that…trinkets. Nothing with any real magic associated with them anymore. Long since depleted and he hadn’t really known anyone who had the capability of changing that. 

But Dom seemed to think he could. Seemed to think he could bring it to life and he doesn’t need the other man to tell him that they’re unsure of the consequences for that thought to already be crossing his mind. He knows that, he acknowledges it, but there’s still that intrinsic curiosity to see it in action. To see what a trinket like this was capable of. It was a side of a Gift that he simply didn’t possess. 

Telepathy had it’s benefits, but it was an observer’s gift. He wasn’t an empath, couldn’t manipulate emotions or act on the things he saw in people’s minds with any sort of control. He could simply watch and if he’d studied and worked on his own concept of that power and how it manifested, he still had his qualms about it. Still felt like when he read someone’s mind, he was stuck behind a closed door, unable to change whatever played out in front of him. 

This trinket could be something different. Even if it wasn’t his own gifts that brought it to life, he could watch it happen. It offered him the possibility of having more than simply a bystander’s gift, whatever power it wound up being. 

“Maybe,” he gives a small shrug, that it was that easy to simply brush off. “But it may not?” 

It was a quiet acknowledgement and Dom’s eyes flickered to his, unsure if Didi was genuinely curious or he was just going through the motions - indulging Dom because he was the Heir to his House. It was a slightly discomfiting thought, that perhaps all Dom had been doing for the past half hour or so was imposing his presence on their previous initiate turned member in a misguided attempt to take his actual role and position seriously. 

“Uhm...Yeah. But you know, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s still yours after all.” Dom fumbled with his words as he suddenly fumbled with the object in his hands, and he felt his panic rise somewhat thinking how the younger man would react if it slipped through his fingers. Gingerly, he placed the trinket back on the counter, using the edge of his finger to gently nudge it Didi’s way. He avoided looking at him directly. 

“I mean...it could be an interesting experiment and all, but all my experiences before didn’t really end up the way you want them to.” Dom felt he was babbling ever so slightly at this point. “You have Dev’s burnt hair, and I damaged one of Athena’s bookends along with a pair of Monty’s shoes, which he had to throw away after, and really it’s perhaps totally ill-advised at this point but...” He swallowed, his throat dry. “If you’re up for trying, we could do it back at HQ?” 

[dom-dupont]

parasympathic​:

There was the slightest bit of surprise when the question got turned on him, for the most part content to simply watch over the heir and his current charge. The butterfly disappearing, and the child still all too quiet, but both looking up at him for something flashier than the brightly colored insects. 

He had to bite his tongue on the first thing that came to mind, something entirely ridiculous and completely at odds with the respectable figure he had made himself out to be. But it was the thought that Mothman might be scarier for a child than it was amusing for him that kept it to himself, considering for a moment longer.

“What about a thunderbird?” Which might have been equally as ridiculous, but the request was for something flashy. And would likely stretch the limits of either’s capability, like maybe they could still pretend the boy had really been asking for help and not just a desire for Dom’s attention.

-

Nerd, Dom would have immediately teased as Monty offered a creature of mythical origins, as if he did not share the same fascination with such creatures of legend. “If we’re going that way, why not a nine-tailed fox or a wyvern? Griffins? Sylphs?” He listed everything off the top of his head, sharing a grin with Monty when Elliot tapped his chin in contemplation, suppressing his urge to ruffle the kid’s hair once more while he was deep in thought. “Or you could surprise us?”

TIME SKIP:

Dom felt his chest puff up somewhat, despite the constricting confines of the suit Dev forced him into, when Elliot’s brow furrowed in concentration and a soaring illusion of red and gold burst to life in front of everyone’s eyes. A Thunderbird. Of course he went with Monty’s suggestion. 

His attention lagged somewhat when they progressed down the line of Initiates, his applause automatic and his expression polite though his slacking posture suggesting growing boredom. They had reached House Valerian already, and a couple of intricate fire shows and dancing water fountains later, they were thankfully reaching the end of the list and Dom was already thinking about escaping to wash off the mess of gel and sweat his hair had become. 

Then she stepped on the stage, at odds with everyone else because of her decidedly informal outfit, but it was more of the way she carried herself - like a storm of emotions was contained beneath her skin. He knew her as Sam, the waitress at Lou’s and his fellow spectator at the Pit.

Then her twister had changed course and aimed straight for Athena and it felt as if everything began to run in slow motion. Dom tried to leap forward - as if he could block the incoming attack with his body alone - when the twister suddenly dematerialized in front of his eyes. He jerked to an abrupt halt, feeling more than seeing Monty as he knocked into his Head Significant in an attempt to regain his balance.

“What the fuck was that?” 

[dom-dupont]

@theodoreclairmont​ Location: Balian’s House

It was odd - he’d come to Balian’s place several times, both with Dev and on his own, and while Dom wouldn’t exactly say he was comfortable anywhere else other than the HQ, he’d become familiar enough with his placement of things and that favored spot on the couch for him to be not entirely ill-at-ease. 

Now walking up to it seemed otherwise daunting, the curve of the door handle foreboding, the light on a nearby stoop flickering in a disquieting manner. He felt his palms begin to sweat, a flush creep up the back of his neck for no apparent reason, his heart both simultaneously in his mouth and thundering in his ears. 

Come on Dominic, you can do this. The silent pep talk felt was embarrassing enough with just him as the audience. Steeling his spine with bravado he did not completely possess, he marched up to the doorway and rapped once, twice, his expression alternating between fury, nausea, and trepidation. 

“What the fuck are you doing opening the door?” Was the immediate, scathing response that left his lips the moment he saw Teddy, which seemed entirely contradictory to the fact that he come to see said person in the first place. 

“I mean-” He tried again. “-can I come in?” 

[dom-dupont]

nitasamsaradavid​:

Well would you look at that, a feminist. How sweet. Nita agree more or less with the idea, though her last few fights hadn’t left anyone with scars. Ironically enough, it was Dr. Lacroix who’d given her a fresh scattering of them, no doubt a reminder to keep her unwanted attention away. Not that it’d been particularly effective.

“Teddy something,” she replied, not remembering if he hadn’t given a last name or if, as usual, she’d merely forgotten it. “He’s…” she trailed off, looking for the right word to encompass the incomprehensible before eventually settling on: “…weird.” It was an unsatisfying description, but she wasn’t the best with words, letting the flimsy one stand in place of a more helpful description. “Magistrate agents don’t come around here, do they? Kind of figured this was a don’t ask don’t tell sort of set-up.”

-

TIME SKIP:

He couldn’t believe her gall, that she’d actually show her face in a place he reasonably frequented at the Pit - as if her neat show of near-violence at the Solstice at Athena for fucks sake just warranted a light slap on the wrist and the freedom to go wherever the hell she pleased ( he would have a Word with Marchesa if he wasn’t so damn intimidated by her. ) 

When he discovered she’d been the one who attacked Monty at Sacred Heart, Dom felt like a fool. When she summarily attempted to do the same amount of damage to Athena, his Head of House, and he moved too slowly to do anything about it, Dom felt like a useless fool. It was like the world was playing a terrible joke on him and he shuddered, remembering how he once thought of her as an actual tolerable person to be around. 

She was speaking to a couple of Helena’s lackeys near one of the larger rings, a crowd jostling eagerly for a spot at the front to take in the upcoming fight. Dom elbowed his way forward, his disguise familiar enough to Pit regulars that they immediately stepped aside and gave him a wide berth. A tall, thin unassuming looking man was standing a few feet away from her, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, and Dom only grunted a perfunctory apology his way before pushing him aside and planting his feet firmly in front of Helena’s flunkey. 

“I want in.” He stabbed a finger in Nita’s direction. “With her.” 

[dom-dupont]

selwyndalessi​:

closed starter for @dom-dupont​

Selwyn d’Alessi didn’t often get angry. Or even frustrated. And surprised? Even rarer. 

Yet, she felt the beginnings of her temper unravel as she stalked along the streets of Asphodel, her mind flipping through the thoughts of the residents inside its buildings. It wasn’t very often that she used her gifts for tracking — telepathy was her secondary gift, after all, and it simply took much too energy when technology could do as good of a job. 

But this was different. Different, because Teddy had been shot, with no eyewitnesses nor street cameras nearby. The only image they had to go off of was the brief glance at the perpetrator that he had gotten, which he had given to her telepathically. She knew it was no different than searching for a needle in a haystack, trying to match his memory with a face seen by the minds around her, but she had to at least try. Because despite her general annoyance with all things Theodore Clairmont, he was an agent under her supervision, and she looked after her own. 

It was outside the Voodoo that the face registered — a man in his 30s, with dark hair and blue eyes. He was good at keeping a low profile, wearing plain clothes and drinking the beer on tap, very much the quintessential small town resident. He was only noticed by the bartender’s mind, and only taken at a professional interest. But it was the same face that had aimed a gun at two Magistrate agents, and Selwyn was all too happy to wait outside in the alley adjacent to the bar, hearing the man’s intent to meet his friends at that location. 

The fact that Dom heard the news about Teddy fucking getting shot from whispers that filtered down the Endine gossip chain only made his anger burn all the more brightly. He did not spare a moment to even think - because that way lay worry, regret, and all the unspoken, conflicting feelings he had regarding his self-proclaimed ‘best friend.’ He simply pulled aside the Endine member who dared spread rumours right within his earshot and demanded tersely that he tell him everything he knew. 

Which had been disappointingly, Dom’s expression soured even more as he attempted to recall his  fumbling words, painfully nothing. 

The reason by which he ended up in Voodoo, nursing a drink and the beginnings of a headache, his scowl enough to send potential interlopers fleeing at the very sight of it. His frustration at being kept out of the loop regarding Teddy’s condition was only compounded by the fact that he stubbornly refused to call the damn fool and ask for an update, a scrap of information, anything. The only other people he could ask were Selwyn and/or Balian, and goddamit why did he have such complicated relationships with all these Magistrate lackeys it was like they were all out to get him.

Dom, on a good day, would never be described as calm, but his usually short fuse was already fraying at its ends by his third drink. So when he overheard that walking deadman actually brag to his guffawing audience of neanderthals that he’d successfully gotten away with shooting a damn Wolf like he deserves - Dom couldn’t be held responsible for the way he violently pulled his chair out from underneath him, his painful smack of his ass against the floor of Voodoo not satisfying enough. 

“What the fuck did you say?” He snarled, stalking across the room.

[dom-dupont]

nullxbrody​:

A smirk was still across his lips, because he knew he was skirting a line that only he could see. One Monty had asked him to keep quiet and even if the in-joke was something only he’d get, he still found amusement in it. But he knew the line and he knew it well. Knew what it meant if he’d break it and even if he wanted to take small digs at Monty when the man wasn’t around, he still wanted them to be harmless. Nothing that would actually hurt the man, because as much as Monty reminded him that he should hate him, he didn’t. 

“Well, I mean with bruises like that, you probably are a headache,” Brody replied, skirting around all of the implications in the other man’s words. That Monty should have mentioned him, that he was a glorified babysitter when Monty had referred to this man in front of him as family. Kids, he’d said, and Brody still hadn’t known what that meant until this moment. 

There’s just a playfulness in him now, trying to mask that revelation in the back of his mind of just what Monty had been hiding him from. And hiding from him. It was still uneasy territory. Unsure how to feel about it, knowing he was shameless most of the time, but…he’d always had a sense of pride in himself that he couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t doing it justice by standing here pretending to be something he was not. 

“I do know that he takes his job seriously and regardless of how much of a headache you are, you’re still family. And he doesn’t take that lightly.” 

-

Dom winced slightly - the other man had hit the nail on the head as it were, regarding the bruises and his other miscellaneous injuries. Almost unbidden, his mind flashed back to his and Monty’s conversation that fateful ride back to HQ - the silent stretches in between just as devastating as his soft-toned admonishments. It was almost instinct that Dom curled his spine slightly, as if dodging a blow - words, he found, cut a bit deeper than any physical strike would. “Yeah, this-” His fingers lightly danced across the bruise on his cheekbone. “-inspired quite a lecture.” 

It painted quite a picture really. A young, good-looking man dressed in that - Dom’s eyes flickered over the rainbow-colored sequins before focusing once more on his face - a stranger, who spoke truths that hit too close to home. Dom always handled words like family like a loaded gun - gingerly, warily, with the knowledge that any attempt on his part would probably result in a backfire. What did a boy who attempted to win his parents love with everything he had inside him, only to be left for dead after barely less than a year of searching know about family anyway? 

“He does an amazing job.” Dom said instead, because it was true and it was safe and it did not tread on feelings that he didn’t want to explore. “You seem to know him quite well.” He spoke pointedly, in a desperate ploy to redirect the conversation. 

[dom-dupont]

1 // 2 // 3 // honesty hour