Aug 2, 2021
Assassin verse
Mafia verse
@negans-savior-complex
seen from Sweden
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malta
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
Assassin verse
Mafia verse
@negans-savior-complex
Stretching from Second Street to Seventh, there is a charming neighborhood that has old roots, with some parts dating back to the early 1900s. History seems to bleed out of every crack and crevice of the rowhomes, apartments and the shop fronts of its own little market place. There's bit and pieces scattered about; plaques built into brickwork that mark the erection of significant buildings and statues in the small park to honor important local figures from the past. By just scratching the surface, all anyone might see is the charm of age, a place captured in time. But dig a little deeper and one can easily find that the true past of these streets are much darker than the residency lets on.
Rick is intimately familiar with the history of this place, all the intricate little secrets that are well kept and private to the families that have lived here for decades upon decades. When dealing with the criminal world, one learns quickly that it's best to have some knowledge of who you're dealing with and in Rick's case, knowing exactly whose blood might end up on his hands is sometimes crucial to his own survival.
He didn't used to be a regular visitor to the main row, as it's mostly a quiet place now and has been for some time. The families with their criminal ties, at least those who are still relevant here, are not the sort to make a lot of commotion that might draw the public eye. It's bad for business, Rick can respect that. But as of a few months ago, during a low risk intel job, he scored himself an invitation to a little up and coming establishment.
On the corner of Main and Fifth is a quaint French cafe that's been in business for nearly thirty years under the same family name. The coffee there is expensive, imported blends and the pastries are fancy, always fresh. This is not the place of which one might need an invitation, but it happens to house the place that does. The family who owns the cafe rented out the basement level, which had only ever been used for storage of old kitchen equipment, tables and chairs after their big renovation a few year ago.
In a short span of time and right under Rick's own nose, a modernly designed speakeasy popped up in that basement,. Rick wasn't quite aware of it's existence until his official invitation, but again he never used to frequent this neighborhood in the past.
Now, it seemed impossible for him to stay away.
The owner of the establishment, La Rose de Nuit, is a woman who he knows far too much about, but not nearly enough. Lori is just younger than himself, with the body and touch of an angel. He's been out of country for the past two weeks and not a night has gone by that her bright forest eyes and sweet, elegant lips weren't haunting him his dreams, teasing him to come home, begging him to finish the job so he could return to her warm embrace. He knows enough about her so far to know when he's in trouble and though she hasn't kicked him out of the bar, he can read her frustration in the way she handles the money from the till and how she disguises her feelings with a look of concentration while she completes the night's deposit.
"Did y'miss me?" he asks her with a lopsided and teasing smile, blue eyes dazzling beneath the bar lights. It's clear he's a bit buzzed. Last call doesn’t apply to him, neither does the fact that the doors are locked and half the lights are off. The music is turned so low he can hardly hear it and her staff have finally scurried into the night after pocketing their tips and weekly wages. It's just them now, "Or y'still mad at me?"
Rick knows it's not the duration of his recent disappearance that bothers her as much as the fact that he had given her no notice of it. He had just up and left. In his defense, he's not used to owing anyone an explanation for his business travels and he still believes he doesn't, in fact, owe anyone anything, unless there's exchange of payment. But he's not stupid. She's miffed and it's his own fault.
"C'mon, Lori," he shuffles down the bar a few steps to the left, where on the bar is a whiskey bottle of his favorite brand. Sitting pretty in the neck of the bottle is a beautiful, recently bloomed french rose. The petals of a soft pink hue look gorgeous under the dim lights, it was the prize bloom of their kind in his own shop. He guides the bottle across the bar top, eyes flickering between the peachy petals and the woman behind the bar. There’s some small hope that if his gift, and a little sweet talking, might pacify her just enough.
"Ain't nearly as gorgeous as you are, but..." he trails, his smile softened as he delicately thumbs one of the petals, "It bloomed just for you as soon as I got back into town."
@mamagrimes
Plotted starter for @alexis-vaughn
“Honestly, I think Dirty is my favorite album, though Evol is also really good…”
A girl at the bar has noticed his Sonic Youth keychain and has started up a conversation while they wait for drinks. She’s young, probably just turned 21, wouldn’t have been born when Evol was released. Samuel is 39, too old for band keychains he suspects and nearly old enough to be her Father, old enough to know better too and he does, which is precisely why he accepts his Jack and Coke from the bartender and bids the girl goodbye with a wave before heading to another section of the room, hoping she doesn’t follow. Young woman these days are bold and forthright and while there’s nothing wrong with that, he’s found that many seem draw towards an older man, maybe they think it will give them some stability; a man with a good apartment and a good job. Truth is Samuel’s apartment is fairly basic and fairly empty, certainly no where someone would ever want to settle down, it’s not a home, was never intended to be; it’s a base of operations, a safe house, a temporary abode he can use until he’s forced to move on. Samuel doesn’t have a good job either, that’s not to say that the work he’s involved in doesn’t pay well, it does, extremely well in fact, but killing people for a living isn’t exactly what most people would consider a steady pensionable post.
This bourbon would taste better straight, he thinks, sipping from his glass and regretting asking for coke from the tap, it tastes like fizzy sugar water and is spoiling the liquor. Glancing up from his drink, he casts his eyes across the dancefloor towards the far end of the bar and it is there he sees her; a face he hasn’t seen in a very long time.
For a moment he stands still, watching her closely, trying to determine if it is really Vaughn or merely someone that looks a lot like her but as she smiles his suspicions are confirmed; it’s definitely her. Alexis Vaughn…she looks well, very well in fact and Samuel can’t help but wonder if she is still with the CIA. The last time they were together was in Cuba, at least five years ago, Samuel there in his capacity as a NAVY SEAL, leading a black ops mission in the territory, Alexis there in her capacity as a CIA agent, to covertly gather intelligence and help smooth over inter-agency conflicts. She had been effective in her role, quickly earning Samuel’s trust and his friendship. Admittedly Samuel had often wondered if their regular off-duty drinking sessions, were simply a way for Vaughn to informally gather Navy intelligence, but even if that had been the case, it had made those evenings no less fun.
Throwing back the rest of his drink, Samuel leaves his glass on a nearby table and moves to the end of the bar, so he can discreetly interrupt her without the need for her to introduce him to her friends.
“I’d buy you a drink, but if memory serves, it’s your round Alex.”
R e f l e c t i o n → @isabella-clair-marx
Art By @isabella-clair-marx || Commission Piece Pending
We’re All Mad Here
Icee made her way about the compound. There wasn’t much going on, it seemed the Dracs realized they had lost enough of their crew fro one week so they were laying low. Seeing a little bit of movement she kept her eyes trained on the unknown. Surprisingly for her boots she was able to move soundlessly within a few feet of the stranger, a female. Petite, dark hair, kinda brooding nature then she realised who it was. It was the girl that hitched a ride with Poison not long ago and it seemed she was sticking around.
‘Well, I think I should introduce myself.’ Icee thought as she quickened her pace a bit until she caught up with the woman.
“Hey! You must be that girl that Poison picked up; Onyx right?” She teased putting a less that modest slant on it with a playful tone to her voice. Though she knew the story Icee wanted to see how the other was going to react. All the while gesturing to her with her ever present bat.
“I didn’t think you’d be sticking around so long. Where ya headed?”
@a-murder-of-muses
@negans-savior-complex continued from here
This couldn’t be. This just couldn’t be. For a short moment he still hoped he made a mistake, that this couldn’t be the man he cried about for months as the only real love he ever experienced. The feeling in his chest was a mixture from burning rage that rolled his fingers into fists which urged to beat the pretty face he missed and nearly forgot about, and the endless craving to touch him, hold him, smell him, eat him up and not spare just an inch so he could never leave him again. God he hated this man and he had loved him once so much that his stunning smile was still able to bring a weakness to his knees. Damn him.
How could he even dare to come here? Did he search for him to degrade him? To make fun of what he had become after a stupid heartbreak that probably meant nothing to the player Negan always was? Oh well, if he really came here on purpose and that was highly unlikely, he would find out soon enough that not only Ricks skin had become more dark but his soul did as well. Not to mention his heart, that didn’t feel so many emotions at once in years. In fact Rick couldn’t even remember when he felt anything the last time. But hey, this was just a short glimpse of the past, nothing serious anymore right?
Still it did feel serious regarding the clenching feeling in his chest which threatened to choke him as Negan repeated his compliment and called him sunshine. How the hell did he dare to speak like that to him? Using his nickname as if it was just something you could randomly drop. Sunshine. Sunshine my ass. Apparently he was still the same arrogant asshole he was back then and hell did he miss that.
Luckily Grace disappeared to the back while Marcy looked from Negan to Rick and back to the taller man. He knew she was reading atmospheres well and that’s why she maybe sent him a reassuring nod that asked if he was alright and as he slowly replied in the same way, she followed her niece, probably to give them some space.
After a deep breath that pushed away the sadness that wanted to come up, Rick cleared his throat and loosened their intense glare, trying to fake some lack of interest. “Well, thanks. But you better call me by my name.” His eyes wandered down to the little card where he noticed the word “Auntie” and he remembered how Negan had told him about this one aunt he really liked back in New Orleans. Well, point for him. Maybe he really didn’t come on purpose to test how much power he still had over the once lost boy.
“No. I’m not working here. Just helped Marcy, she’s kinda my neighbor.” Nervously his hands fiddled with his pants, his flat palms running over the jeans to hide the sweat that was coming up. “And you? Seems you didn’t change a lot. Still the same a-… charming character.” A sarcastic smile spread on his lips, proud that he swallowed the insult at the right time before a short glance back to the hazels made him step back from the counter to bring more space between them, his hands now closing around the cupboard behind him to have a upright stand.
“Why are you here?” His suspicions still weren’t gone by now, even if it wasn’t completely Negans fault that Rick still felt haunted like the shadow he worked as. What if he got hired by someone to get informations? The only ones that caught a glimpse of him or ever found out his name were dead, but Rick was aware of the risk that it could happen anytime again, even if he kept sure of having no weaknesses they could use against him. And now here it was: the only weakness his life ever provided. Live in flesh and bone and still so incredible handsome that it was a shame. Damn he hated this. And he still never wanted it to end.
While crossing his legs he looked down to his feet, just anything that wouldn’t swallow him into the spiral he once got lost in. No never again.
“Your aunt, huh? Is that really the only reason why you accidentally run into me? Excuse me if that’s very hard to believe, Negan.” On purpose he swallowed every little nickname he made up for him in the past even if the urge was there after Negan used his so bluntly. Sunshine. Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence he chose the alias “Shadow”. Umbra. Just far far away from anything that could remind him of who he once was. Who he once loved. “You living here now? Or just passing through?”
Another NSFW meme, assassin AU, all the questions because I'm both greedy AF and thirsty for more content with our Sad Broken Boys😤
Another nsfw pairing meme from here
Who is louder?
Rick was louder in the past now he tries to be more quiet so Negan doesn’t know how much he really enjoys it
Who is more experimental?
Negan but Rick got there over the years 👀
Who takes more risks?
Negan cause Rick is a control freak
Do they fuck or make love?
Both. It started with fucking, turnt into making love and now it’s more like fucking again but they will surely get to the love making again
Lights on or off?
Ricks basement often has problems with electricity so they are forced for lights off very often (and he lights candles then cause they heaters also don’t function perfectly so it’s romantic even if he didn’t plan it to be) but they enjoy both
Who is more likely to be caught masturbating?
Negan, Rick isn’t so much into masturbating alone
Who is more likely to suggest a threesome?
Negan probably made jokes about it in the past but just to tease Rick but they both would never really suggest it
Has either stolen the other’s underwear?
Yes both probably. Rick to wear it, negan to smell it haha
Who comes first?
Depends who is the top
Who is better at oral and who prefers it?
Rick has probably more practice in it cause he always used to be a submissive puppy for Negan in the past and Negan may prefer it sometimes. Rick loves it too but he is not really used to Negan going on his knees for him and probably is easily overstimulated also in the past with women that’s why he barely allowed it cause he cums very fast and if he wants to be the top he wouldn’t allow himself to be the first to cum
Who is more submissive?
Rick but now they are probably more even
Who usually initiates things?
Negan
Who is more sensitive?
Rick
Who has the most patience?
Rick
Which kinks do they share?
Many, choking, cuffing, marking, dirty talk, power play, edging, sex in unusual places cause of just following a need
@negans-savior-complex