#but i'm not actually that fussed? if she can't keep them she can return them and i'll wear them haha
Text
tumblr markdown mode glitched so hard it let me delete the word "preview" from the top bit. anyway the post i was trying to make was like. you ever fuck up in a way that means other people feel bad and that part is what makes you feel bad? yeah
(this is a post about knitting my paatti some socks bc she's cold, but they're just a touch too small to be easily put on even after blocking so she has to get someone to help w them and that sucks)
#tony muses#like it's fine#i will make another pair when i get home that are ankle length and easier to put on and i have never worked w this yarn or colorwork before#so now i know#but i know she feels bad about it bc they are to a non-knitter beautifully made#and clearly took time#but i'm not actually that fussed? if she can't keep them she can return them and i'll wear them haha#but i want her to be warm more than i want her to be grateful or whatever
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love the SCP au. Could you go more into detail about Laswell/SCP141-e?
Is he actually in their heads or is it that he can permeate technology in some way when it's near them? Is that how he gets his information?
Would it be possible for him to be heard by people outside of SCP141? Say, if he decided to see what the fuss is about a certain researcher/personnel?
Is he only able to be heard by the others when they're close enough to activate their anomalous properties? What happens when they're apart? What anomalous properties would he lose?
Special Containment Procedures Activated:
Given SCP-141-a's anomalous abilities it is recommended that personnel interviewing and interacting with him either: pass level 5 anti-memetic training, utilize psychic shielding either chemical or mechanical, or maintain a natural inclination against cognitohazardous anomalies. At present all interviews are to be conducted by senior research staff member of the psychic anomalies division on site ⬛️⬛️, ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️.
No information is to be given to SCP-141-a, no matter the relevance, truthfulness, or perceived impact. SCP-141-a will be treated as a hostile in this respect, and it must be assumed any information provided to SCP-141-a will be used against the provider.
Do not believe his lies. Do not believe his truths. Do not mistake his smile for friendliness.
Interview Log, SCP-141-a:
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: This is interview ⬛️ on date ⬛️/⬛️/20⬛️⬛️ with SCP-141-A, going by the name of John Price.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: How are you today John?
SCP-141-a: Better seein' you sweetheart. You got special orders to keep talkin' to me?
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: (hums in assent) I'm afraid I just can't stay away.
(The click of a pen can be heard, the creak of leather as SCP-141-a makes himself comfortable in his chair.)
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Do you know why I'm here today, John?
SCP-141-a: Don't suppose you missed me?
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: As much as I enjoy our talks, I'm afraid that isn't the case today.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'd like to talk about Laswell.
(There's about a 30 second pause before SCP-141-a speaks again)
SCP-141-a: What about Laswell?
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'd like to talk to them.
SCP-141-a: Her.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'd like to talk to her then.
SCP-141-a: Not possible.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Why not? I thought you liked me John, that you wanted to help me.
SCP-141-a: Sweetheart I would-
(Static overtakes the tape for another minute, it can be assumed that SCP-141-a is interfering with the recording in some manner.)
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Stroke- Strike that from the record please.
SCP-141-a: Anyone ever tell you, you got-
(Another minute of static. Add equipment interference to SCP-141-A's anomalies)
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I think we're done here.
SCP-141-a: ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: What did you just say?
SCP-141-a: That's your name isn't it?
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Who told you that.
SCP-141-a: Watcher- Laswell, tells me a lot of things.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: (taking a breath) And where is Laswell?
SCP-141-a: Classified.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: How is she able to communicate with you if she's outside the range of SCP-141? That shouldn't be possible.
SCP-141-a: Who said she's outside of range?
Interview terminated, site ⬛️⬛️ placed on immediate lock down. Site swept for invisible anomalous entities. Nothing found. SCP-141-a returned to cell. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ tested for cognitohazards. Clean.
#cod x reader#x reader#captain price mw2#captain john price#captain price x reader#captain price#john price#cod price#price mw2#scp au#kate laswell#task force 141#oc: witch#as our memetically immune interviewer :)
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
@theneutralmime
You might have to be more specific than that. Most of what we see done with the Force is perfectly normal, like being able to block blaster bolts with a lightsaber and stuff, so I guess I'll try to hit on some of the bigger more controversial uses of the Force and see if these answer your questions. Keep in mind that the Force is generally a pretty SOFT magic system and while there are definitely some guidelines to it, there's a lot you can get away with via "rule of cool" here.
Somehow Palpatine returned: Arguably Palpatine living is actually perfectly within canon given that we have examples of Sith characters living through shit that should've killed them, most obviously Maul (something done by Lucas himself so we can't just blame it all on Disney bringing characters back). But within Disney canon there's also the Grand Inquisitor and Reva who both live through injuries that seem like they should've killed them by utilizing the dark side to sustain them. So Palpatine living is actually perfectly do-able within canon in terms of "how the Force works", regardless of how stupid it was NARRATIVELY and how annoying I find the trend in general.
Luke's Force projection: This doesn't seem like that weird to me, it's definitely NEW and not something we saw anybody else doing in prior films, but it's also not something anyone else would've truly benefited much from and given that it kills Luke almost immediately afterward, it's clearly a VERY last resort option and only really useful as a distraction anyway. It's not that far off of the whole Force Ghost idea to me and sort-of draws on the idea that the Jedi are empaths to some degree, so I'm not too fussed about this. It's fun and I appreciate all the clues about what's happening that are THERE if you look for them but not necessarily super obvious before the reveal.
Leia saving herself from the vacuum of space: I don't dislike this one either, actually. Leia's got a couple of seconds or so in which she can react to a warning from the Force somehow and while we don't see any other Jedi actively fighting in space without a suit or anything, we DO see Plo Koon fighting in space with nothing but his air mask which should still kill him and somehow doesn't, so it's not like Leia surviving this is completely out of the realm of possibility to me. Besides, it's the first super explicit use of the Force Leia got in the films and pissed off a lot of crybaby fanboys who were convinced Leia wasn't Force sensitive, so I'm willing to give it a lot of grace for that alone.
The Force dyad: I actually don't have an issue with the mechanics of the dyad and more have an issue with the way it's utilized in the narrative. Personally, I find it a little silly that some sort of extra special Force connection would exist between two people at THIS point in time and not like... when a literal child of prophecy was alive. If I was going to believe there was a special Force connection between ANYBODY, it would've been Anakin/Obi-Wan (narratively foiled anyway and involves a child of prophecy) or Luke/Leia (twin children of the child of prophecy separated at birth for their own safety). And of course, if it HAD to be in the Sequel trilogy for whatever reason, we all know it should've been Finnrey, for a MULTITUDE of reasons. The other issue I have with the dyad is that they change it from Snoke creating it specifically to mess with Kylo in TLJ to their connection being some sort of special prophecized thing by TROS, so it's not even clear in the narrative what precisely the damn thing even IS or why Rey and Kylo even HAVE IT because the stupid directors and studio execs couldn't agree on it I guess.
Force healing: I know some people have major issues with this one and I get why, but it honestly doesn't bother me that much. TROS explains it as being a byproduct of the dyad anyway, something ONLY these people can do because being connected the way they are allows them to access powers no one else could. It's one of the ways I think the dyad DOES work in the sense that if they're going to give these two characters this special connection then hey fuck it why not use it to let them have a special Force power a lot of fans want to see but that wouldn't really make sense in any other context? I'm obviously NOT a huge fan of "Force healing resurrection via True Love's Kiss" or whatever, but the general concept of Force healing coming from the dyad works fine for me. It's a little heavy handed and on the nose, but... it's fine.
Leia saving Kylo through... "Force whammy"?: This is the big one I hate, this is the one I cannot STAND. If Sith/Dark siders could just be Force whammied into not being evil anymore, WHY DID NOBODY DO THIS TO ANAKIN. Why isn't Obi-Wan trying this from Tatooine, why doesn't Ahsoka try this, why doesn't Yoda or Luke try this? Yes, it kills Leia to do it, but if it whammies Anakin away from being dark and turns him against the Emperor earlier, WHY NOT DO IT. And where would Leia have even LEARNED HOW TO DO THIS, why did she WAIT so long to do it if she knew how this whole time? But the biggest reason I hate this is because it fucks up the entire theme of Star Wars which is CHOICE. If the Sith and Darksiders can just be Force whammied into goodness again, it takes away the CHOICE they need to make to be good. It's SO SO VITALLY IMPORTANT that these characters CHOOSE TO BE GOOD AGAIN if that's the path they're going to go down. It's important that they chose to evil and it's important that they choose to be good again. A Force whammy isn't a fucking choice, it's Leia just... jumpstarting Kylo's brain or whatever. It's just wiping out the things causing him to be evil I guess so that it's just no longer a problem. It's cheating, it's STUPID. And if they'd gone with the idea that Kylo was genuinely being like mind-controlled by Snoke into doing the things he's doing and that none of this WAS his choice and so the Force whammy allows him to finally make his own choices again, that would be one thing, but both TFA and TLJ emphasize that this isn't the case, Kylo is MAKING THESE CHOICES ON HIS OWN and continues to make them no matter how many people offer him another chance to do better. It doesn't matter if it's his father or Rey or Luke, Kylo just KEEPS MAKING THE SAME CHOICES, even after Snoke is dead. A Force whammy should do NOTHING to Kylo because he's not being controlled and it takes away the entire point of Kylo's story being that he CHOSE TO BE EVIL and that he, unlike Anakin, cannot just be saved by love alone. This one stinks, this isn't how the Force works, and it's not how this narrative works.
The only other controversial thing I could think of was how quickly Rey learns to do things, but that's not so much a matter of "how the Force works" because everything she does is pretty basic Force skills like telepathy, telekinesis, and mind tricks.
#star wars#sequel trilogy#the force#sheev palpatine#luke skywalker#leia organa#rey skywalker#anti kylo ren#kylo ren critical#anti kylo#kylo critical#anti reylo#reylo critical#anti ben solo#ben solo critical
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do the baby rats ever return to the bilges? And by that do they spend much time with the old man? Are they free to drop in and make themselves at home?
I think it varies between them and over time.
Alfred drops in a lot. God knows there's hardly a spot in the world he hasn't made himself known but I still couldn't quite believe how many statues and memorials. The eagle squadron, the Eisenhower statue, the Reagan statue, the 9/11 memorial garden. Mark Twain, James McNeil Whistler, Harry Selfridge, FDR, Abraham Lincoln. Like goddamn I'm not sure why I was surprised but whoo. So many statues of Yanks paid for by the British.
Anyway: In the 19th century he'd actually spent time in England indulging his need for the latest technology and satiating whatever advances François or Gilbert wouldn't keep him abreast of. Nowadays, especially since the age of flight, he travels a lot and has no shame in rolling up, insulting the food but savoring the whiskey, crashing wherever he likes and drunkenly asking his father's advice. He's very free in how much space he takes up and how much time he feels entitled too. If he's jet lagged he'll just conk out on the old man's spare room and complain it smells like sheep but very much appreciate a night's sleep in a place he once called home.
Matt... He should be very comfortable in that space but he's a dipshit so imposing feels illegal. He kind of knows he can but he's also not willing to test his luck the vast majority of the time. If he's invited he'll show up on time, clean up after himself and promptly leave without causing a fuss. At least the cat's happy he's back to visit lmao. He got permission to pay for a wee fountain in the green park memorial. There was a gate we bought when Victoria locked it and we were still first dominion (Australia was still in the process of confederating.) But yeah he's welcome? Arthur doesn't mind him around if he's not underfoot. But it really was kind of a sign Jan had no idea what Matt's life was like anymore when he asked him to go stay at his dad's in the aftermath of their break up.
Jack lmao he's shameless when he wants some of the old man's attention. I don't think it's all the time, but there are a lot of links there. I swear to God I met so many Australians in England. I tumbled out of a test pit off a corner off a Hadrian's wall fortlet and there were like 6 Australians in every pub in fricken Yorkshire. He will just kind of show up with a very casual but somehow kind of prickly invitation to go to a cultural event of his artists or bands in England and the old fart isn't objecting. It took Arthur a minute to figure out that "Accadacca" meant they were going to go see AC/DC but he wasn't mad about it! Two manic fucks can have a lot of fun. They party quite hard sometimes. Jack was also very responsible for the old man's cooking improving by a metric and imperial fuck tonne. The espresso machine under the cabinet is his baby.
Zee I think is the easiest. She's as independent as Jack but that not quite dead idea that daughters are kind of allowed to be more in and out of the house makes it slightly easier for them. She rolls up and flops on the sofa demanding to be fed and watered. A full fifth of the NZ population lives overseas with Australia and the UK topping the list and if there's things she can't really do in New Zealand or she just doesn't want to live alone she'll just hop over. I feel like she goes in cycles of how independent and revolutionary she's feeling and will just kind of make herself at home if she wants another degree or something similar. She spent time in London without the old man too especially during the peak punk years and they ran into each other at a sex pistols concert. She had a full set of tattoos, an undercut and half a blunt in her system, Arthur had green hair and absolutely ripped on god knows what. She's never seen him so panicked. They stumbled home together having a hoot and throwing beer bottles at cops. Grade a hooligans, those two.
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lost Flute - Part 10 (The Lull before the Storm)
Krishna opened his eyes to find the worried faces of Rukmini and Yashoda peering over him. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, only to realize the sun had risen almost to the centre of the sky. "What?" He muttered to himself when he noticed, a bowl of water and a cloth lying beside him.
"You had a high fever, all last night. You don't remember? Your attendants woke me up when you wouldn't get up for dinner!" Rukmini added helpfully.
Yashoda looked more annoyed, "All that work, I'd warned you, Kanha. Would you never listen?! Your wives also didn't get to sleep the entire night yesterday; I had to postpone my return. Are you happy?!"
Krishna shook his head weakly. "I'm sorry," He added.
Yashoda snapped again, "You should be!"
Krishna sighed and turned to his wife, "Where are the other two overthinkers? Gone to announce it up and down the city squares, have they?"
Rukmini smiled, "Jambavati went to make you some stew...don't worry, I'll slip in some honey when she's not looking, to temper the spice! And Bhama? Well, she went to collect the doctors!"
"Doctors, plural?" Krishna asked gingerly.
"Well, her target is fifty, but we'll see." Rukmini smiled brightly, "Although she is an overachiever, so you never know!"
"And, who's going to pay for all of them?" Krishna asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Probably you, my Lord," Rukmini replied gently, completely missing the sarcasm in his voice.
"Well, where do you think you're going now?" Called Yashoda, as Krishna stopped in his tracks, one leg hanging out of the bed, "Well, the parliament...like, my job?"
"Can't you skip one day?" Rukmini pleaded.
"I cannot, my dear. I must go." Krishna sniffled.
"Yeah," Spoke Yashoda, "Fine! Just walk up to that door without help, hun? Then you can go wherever you want to!"
Krishna stopped to ponder a bit. His head was really spinning a mile an hour. "Fine," he conceded, "The living room, then. I'll work from home."
Yashoda looked angrier, but Rukmini stepped in, "Better seal the deal, Maiya. He'll work either way. This way at least we can keep an eye on him."
---
Krishna sighed as he looked around him. In the short time that it took him to descend from his bedroom to the living room, his wives, with the help of Manmatha, had created a makeshift bed in there. He was propped up by at least twelve soft pillows and Yashoda had insisted on wrapping him in a woollen shawl, "Bhama said this is fashionable nowadays, Kanha!" She was now sitting beside him, feeding him Jambavati's spicy stew as he tried to ignore the sniggering of the people who had brought him some ordinances to sign. Rukmini sat on a throne nearby, her eyes fixed on Krishna's face. By divine grace, he had been able to convince at least Jambavati and Satyabhama to return to their quarters. He shuddered to think of the gossip that would filter through the parliament if they saw him being fussed over like a baby by four grown women!
An attendant entered, announcing the arrival of the Prince Shishupala of Chedi. Krishna's jaw hardened at the mention. "Go," he whispered to Rukmini, "That idiot spews double poison when he sees you! Maiya, you too! Come back when he's gone."
Rukmini left the room, mutterring insults under her breath, alongside Yashoda. The last thing she also wanted to was to have a civil conversation with him.
Krishna sighed as he braced for the upcoming unpleasantness. Shishupala, his cousin, was always too eager to butt heads with him. Although he never dared to go as far as to actually go to war against Krishna, his comments and jibes were a constant source of annoyance at family reunions. He was one of Jarasandha's closest lackeys, and that gave him some sense of superiority as the latter constantly fanned his hatred towards Krishna. Even though he was sick and tired of listening to Shishupala, Krishna chose to always ignore him or leave because of a promise that he had made to his aunt, Shishupala's mother, a long time back. He was to pardon one hundred mistakes of his bratty cousin, who spared no occasion to mouth off to him. Rukmini being betrothed to him before Krishna abducted and married her, also complicated matters significantly.
Krishna forced himself to smile, as Shishupala swaggered in. Immediately he sat down on the throne Rukmini had been occupying. As usual, he had paid no heed to the convention where you do not take a seat in the presence of an elder unless specifically invited. "What?"Krishna snapped, his irritation bubbling up with the fever.
"Just wanted to impart some friendly advice, cousin to cousin." He smirked, "I had gone to visit dear Duryodhana the other day, and saw your assistant, old Akroora, getting real chummy with Auntie Kunti's kids. Their situation is real messy. even I am telling you that! It'd be in your best interest to keep out of it. They're really unlucky, even for their own flesh and blood! Why do you think no one talks to that side of the family?"
Krishna spoke sourly, "My parents were held captive in a dungeon for twenty-five years. I'd say that's pretty unlucky. So, would y'all not talk to us as well, if given the chance?"
"Exactly!" Said Shishupala, baring his teeth, "You do get the point. I honestly don't understand why my father likes you this much, given you are the cause of all your family's problems! Uncle Vasudeva was really a fool to have sa-"
"Shishupala!" Krishna interrupted, "The vow I made to your mother, keeps me from killing you, not smacking you across the face, so don't tempt me!"
"Ooh, the cowherd threatens me!" Shishupaal spoke mockingly, "Count your lucky stars that I didn't tell anyone that I saw your spy lurking around in Hastinapura!"
Krishna laughed in spite of himself, "Ah, thank you, my brother, from the bottom of my heart! For not telling them about the esteemed messenger that I sent to the royal court with gifts for the lot of them, was roaming the palace in his free time!"
Shishupala grunted, "Well, the topic of mother reminds me, she's dead."
"What?!" Krishna cried, almost dropping his bowl of stew, "When?! What happened?"
"Oh, she slipped on the stairs and hit her head I heard. I was in Hastinapura sorting your mess!"
"And you were planning to tell us when exactly?" Krishna spoke through gritted teeth, "When's the prayer meeting?"
"What prayer meeting? We don't have that for women, right? In Chedi, at least I've never seen one." Shishupal scrunched his nose.
"You do realize she's the only reason you're alive right? No, I'm not talking about my deal. Your father was about to have you thrown in a ditch, scared by your divine arms. She's been saving your arse since the day you were born! She was ready to leave your father; to go live in a forest in a thatched hut, begging for alms if that was to be the cost for keeping you alive!" Krishna lifted an arm to stop Shishupala from interrupting, "You don't even care though, do you? Well, I am sorry, my bad. I had expectations." Krishna shook his head, "Well, I'll have a meeting arranged for her here. You and your father come or don't. I don't even care. Well, there's the door. Please see yourself out before I lose my mind!"
Krishna found himself breathing heavily, vision blinded with rage, as he watched his cousin walk out, scattering a string of expletives on his way. Yashoda was standing behind the doorway listening to their conversation. She rushed in with a glass of water, gently caressing Krishna's hair. That would always calm him down as a child, but today Krishna seemed too angry. Yashoda had never seen him this angry before. "What does he think?" Krishna fumed, "That we're all joking when we caution him? Mention the deal with his mother. Wars are started for less than what he puts us through on a regular basis! He thinks I won't ever have the heart to actually kill him. Well, I would've..." Krishna trailed off, and Yashoda tried to shush him in vain.
Suddenly, Manmatha rushed into the room. He looked as if he'd run all the way up from the beach. "Sage Durvasa is here, he wants you and the princess." He said, panting. Krishna sighed. "Of course," He said exasperated, "Where is he?"
"Making a scene at the main square."
"Of course he is." Krishna laughed ruefully. Turning to Yashoda, she asked where Rukmini had gone.
Yashoda replied in a small voice, "She said she felt dirtied by the words of your cousin, so she went to take a bath."
"I'll tell her to meet you there," Whistled Manmatha as he ran past them. Krishna let out a miffed grunt as he tried to steady his head in order to face the troublemaker rishi.
#krishna#hindu mythology#balarama#fanfic#original writing#india#subhadra#vrindavan#mahabharata#the lost flute
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
To the admin who writes short stories: can you write something in the lines of Severus and Lily talking about the way they feel when they get back to their muggle homes?
Hi there. There's only one admin so that'll be me :)
Here we go:
On a hot summer day after the term concluded, all students boarded the Hogwarts Express once more to return to their homes and to their families.
Severus and Lily had just ended their very first year at Hogwarts. Upon finding an empty carriage, they sat facing each other and began to unpack the sweets they illegally obtained from the Hufflepuff Head Boy.
As they were unpacking, neither said a word. THey were listening to the cheered-up roars and the laughter in the other carriages. Between them, there was an unspoken feeling of unease. Both were conflicted about their feelings, compared to the full blast of energy and generic good disposition from the other students when faced with the reality of actually going home.
But Severus and Lily felt different. They felt out of place.
"Lily, come join us. Don't stay there with Snivellus or you'll catch cooties." - said James, stopping abruptly by the carriage's threshold, catching air of Sirius who was running at full speed towards the best carriage by the end of the train.
"The ones that he actually caught from you and Sirius?" - Lily said, mocking him
"You've been warned, Lils!" - said James, defeated and removing himself from the threshold.
"What an idiot. If we weren't at Hogwarts his remedy would have been to shave his head" - muttered Severus, frowning.
"Don't listen to them. But you'd have to shave yours as well. Can you imagine?" - she giggled at the mental picture, stealing a snort from Severus who managed a half-smile.
"I don't understand why they are all so happy, you know?" - he said, staring bleakly through the window.
"Me neither. We can't do magic at home. What's the point of staying there all summer?" - Lily's voice was equally dispassionate.
"At least you can play with Tuney, no matter how strange that is. Is she fun at all?" - Severus asked
"Not really, but if I don't mention anything about magic she will actually play with me without making a fuss. But no one is interested in anything that I say regarding magic. It's like... I'm talking to strangers. But they're my parents and my sister... anyway. How about you?"
"Tobias doesn't like magic, and mum rarely uses it. "
Lily eyed him when he mentioned his father by his given name instead of simply 'father' or 'dad'.
"I don't even know where she keeps her wand, or if she even has one." - he continued. "When my magic began manifesting, she tried to teach me a few tricks, but she never used her wand." he shrugged. "If we are alone, she pulls off some cool household spells, like ironing my dad's shirts just by waving her hand. But if he's home, she's just a muggle and never uses magic. Magic... makes Tobias really angry." his eyes fell to the floor.
Lily reached for his forearm and stroked it briefly with her small hand, trying to console him in a way only children do.
"I know that your parents fight a lot." she said.
"I wish they only fought. Tobias gets furious with meaningless stuff. When he takes his belt off and shuts the door, I know it's going to be a hard night. My mother spends hours sobbing to her elbow in the kitchen after he lets her go. "
Severus looked further away at the window, not meeting Lily's gaze.
"In the beginning, they used to shout at each other, and if I tried to say something or if I dared to cry, he'd take the belt out and lash at me. But my mother asked me to never do that again... So, for the past years she has been taking the hits and I just..."
He didn't know how to finish his thought. What did he do after all? He didn't even know if the fights were worse whenever he was present. He felt like all the problems that plagued his home were because of him. And in the end if he intervened he'd get some of Tobias' ire.
Was he a spectator? A twelve-year-old boy? Was he turning insensible to his mother's suffering by now? He did not know.
His voice was low and calm, almost as if instead of the barbaric acts of violence, he testified a soap opera that repeated the same episode every time it aired. It was his normality.
He shrugged his sentence away.
"I'm sorry, Sev." Lily said after some silence. She managed to say it in the most comforting tone she could manage. "I wish I could take you to my home. But I'm afraid we'd have to deal with Tuney first."
Severus snorted, contemplating the idea of actually sharing oxygen with Petunia, and smiled at Lily, his eyes glinting with gratitude for her intention.
"We can meet every day by the old oak after lunch if you want." he proposed expectantly
"Deal." she beamed at him and took a couple of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans from the package. She balled one in each hand and hid her fists behind her back, pretending to mix them up.
After some theatricals, she extended both her fists towards Severus.
"Please, let it not be vomit..." - Severus pleaded, taking the one in her right hand.
It was.
Finite.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rose Lalonde, Dirk Strider
Act 1, page 610-614
ROSEBOT: Looks like you're getting pretty good at motivational speaking.
DIRK: Well someone needed to shake the rust off of her.
DIRK: She's getting nerves.
DIRK: Right before the big game.
DIRK: We're never gonna make it to nationals at this rate.
ROSEBOT: Ah, fuck. The sports.
ROSEBOT: How quickly I forgot them.
DIRK: There's gotta be some kind of sports penalty, for forgetting the sports.
ROSEBOT: Oh, definitely.
ROSEBOT: I've been very bad and I need to be punished, to preserve the integrity of the sports.
DIRK: Let me just slip into my jackass sports judge mime outfit and get to laying down the fucking sports law.
ROSEBOT and DIRK: Let's stop saying sports.
DIRK and ROSEBOT: Agreed.
DIRK: Speaking of outfits, though, look at you.
ROSEBOT: You like it?
DIRK: It's chic.
DIRK: I dig the return of the hood.
DIRK: You could deliver a whole hell of a lot of cryptic prophecies out from under that sucker.
ROSEBOT: Yes, well, I figured that if I'm to appear before our chosen peoples as a harbinger of their simultaneous doom and salvation, I may as well look the part.
DIRK: Do you feel the part?
ROSEBOT: It doesn't really matter what I feel.
ROSEBOT: We have a job to do, and I'm trying to enjoy myself to the best of my ability while we do it.
DIRK: Trying, huh.
ROSEBOT: Speaking frankly, I've grown tired of...
ROSEBOT: This.
ROSEBOT: Fussing over all the tedious minutiae of getting the baby's room ready.
ROSEBOT: The prospect of this Contest was entertaining to me for a time, but the longer it drags on, the closer we draw to the due date, the more it... repulses me.
ROSEBOT: I'm glad you've agreed that we're basically done tinkering here. I don't think I have much more patience for it.
DIRK: I can tell.
ROSEBOT: I'm also glad you've elected to hear Terezi out vis-a-vis the timeskip and save us the hassle of guiding the Deltritans manually.
ROSEBOT: I know it must be hard for you.
ROSEBOT: Dirk?
ROSEBOT: Dirk.
DIRK: Sorry.
DIRK: Got caught up with something.
ROSEBOT: Far be it from me to stand between you and your enigmatic somethings.
DIRK: You're welcome to stand wherever you like.
DIRK: Anyway, no, it isn't that hard for me.
DIRK: It'd be fun, but as I keep having to explain to people, I'm willing to compromise on certain points.
DIRK: Though I will say it's unfortunate to hear you making them, instead of our complainer on retainer.
ROSEBOT: What can I say?
ROSEBOT: I don't feel particularly inclined to play house right now.
DIRK: Not even with me, huh?
ROSEBOT: Not even with you.
ROSE: Thank you for taking me with you, Dirk.
DIRK: Yeah?
ROSE: I may be less than enchanted with this stage of the work, but I know it's important.
ROSE: It's just straying dangerously close to a lot of things I'm trying not to fixate on right now.
ROSE: Wounds that are still fresh, for me as a sum and for the myriad legions of my parts.
ROSE: Home.
ROSE: Family.
ROSE: Petty, little things.
ROSE: Personal things.
DIRK: Those are important, too.
ROSE: Not as important as this is.
ROSE: For all my temporary discomfort with the prospect of settling down on Deltritus and starting what could very loosely be considered a family with you, I want you to know that my heart is in what we're working towards-
DIRK: Technically, you don't have a heart.
ROSE: Shut up.
ROSE: - and that I'm happy to be here with you.
ROSE: Not drifting around in a constrictive, small pond, getting caught up in trivialities like politics and celebrity and romance,
ROSE: But saving the fucking universe.
DIRK: ...
DIRK: Well.
DIRK: You're welcome.
DIRK: I don't think there's anyone I'd rather be doing this with than you.
DIRK: The rest of them just don't have it in them right now to understand what it is we're fighting for, here.
DIRK: They can't grasp the stakes.
DIRK: Even now, they're on their way here, actively trying to stop us from saving them all.
DIRK: They'll probably catch us right before our entrance into the Game, actually.
DIRK: I won't insult you by asking if you're going to be okay when the time comes to face them, demanding answers they won't accept to questions they aren't even asking, because I know that you will.
DIRK: So I'm glad to have you with me.
DIRK: I'm glad you understand.
DIRK: I'm doing this for all of us.
#homestuck#homestuck^2#homestuck^2 act 1#rose lalonde#rosebot#dirk strider#page 610#page 611#page 612#page 613#page 614
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh Oh Oh I know I already send in something something feel free to ignore this but I LOVE THE AU. What about someone really dropping Farah which leads livid Saul to actually carry her around everywhere with him for a few days because NO WAY Iis he going to risk it again.
KEEP 'EM COMING LET'S GO
On Ao3
Farah the Fern Masterlist
~
Part Five: Inevitable
It's bound to happen, Saul knows this, he's prepared for it, but it's still no less of a shock and he's no less livid because they should know better.
A group of fourth years are on Farah duty, a trio of two fairies and a specialist who've had Farah as a teacher the majority of their Alfean careers. Saul knows them well, the specialist particularly, so he trusts them to take good care of her even as he chafes to have her away from his side. But he can't trust her alone in her office either, because she's conspiring against him for her freedom, which is both infuriatingly Farah and insulting. He's not restricting her freedom, he's keeping her safe. And for good reason.
He's training the specialist when it happens, he feels it the second it does. A bolt of fear, muted because of her botanical biology, lances through his chest like the pierce of an arrow. His hand flies to rub at the spot, gaze drawn from the sparring students to the school because something's wrong.
The canteen double doors are flung open with urgency; he's already cursing and rushing towards them.
"Mr. Silva-"
"What's happened?"
"It was an accident sir-"
"Show me."
The pot is shattered, there's no two ways about that. Dirt lies scattered across the stone floor and in the middle, Farah, as a fern, tipped over on her side like a common house plant. And the rage is immediate.
"Go and get Professor Harvey, tell him what you've done."
"Sir-"
"Now!" He barks, and the specialist rushes off, the two fairies kneeling to clear up the mess.
"Leave it!"
"But-"
"I said leave it, don't touch her."
"We're sorry sir it was an accident we didn't-"
"Enough. Get out of my sight, both of you. Now!"
He'll regret his tone later, he knows, and if he doesn't, Farah will make him. He'll apologize later, channel the patience Farah always seems to have in abundance for the stupid antics of her students and make amends for his harsh words but he can't feel anything other than enraged distress at seeing her there, helpless and vulnerable and made that way by her own students' carelessness.
"Oh dear, only a matter of time before this happened," Ben comments as he arrives on the heels of the specialist; Saul sends him scurrying after his classmates with a well-placed glare.
"You can fix her?"
"There's nothing wrong with her," Ben responds patiently, "The pot's broken but she's fine, aren't you?"
The fronds of the fern dip in a silent "yes," and for all the fuss, it takes virtually no time at all for Ben to repot her and clear away the debris.
"There we are, no harm done."
"No harm done!"
"Well not to Farah at least, but you'll fix the harm you caused those students soon enough," Ben deposits the new pot in Saul's arms with a pointed look Saul returns with a scowl. The herbologist raises a brow, "And if you don't, I'm sure Farah will have something to say about it."
And Farah certainly does.
"They could've killed you," he justifies to the cactus in his arms. He's forced to hold her away from his chest or risk the pesky poking of her spines. "I can't let them off that easy."
The cactus shrinks and then expands, grows taller and leafy and Saul's forced to hold her even less securely to avoid the stinging leaves of the thistle that droop over the side of the new pot. The violet flower that blooms like an equally prickly rose among thorns turns his way, unimpressed. Now she's pissed.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm trying to protect you!"
The flower turns away: I don't need your protecting.
"This afternoon has proven that clearly you do- ow!"
The flower returns his glare with an empty one, neither backing down. It's Saul -it usually is- who relents first.
"You can't use 'being a plant' as an excuse to win all arguments," he reminds her crossly, "But you're right, alright? Is that what you want to hear? I was too harsh on them. I'll apologize tomorrow. But am I allowed to be mad now? They could have hurt you Farah, and I know you're not partial to your own safety like I am, but it bothers me when you're put at risk, even if you don't see it that way."
The thistle fades and the head of the daffodil brushes the top of his hand, soothing just by her gentle touch the earlier sting she'd given him. Saul holds the pot closer to his chest.
"You're not leaving my side for the next week, regardless, and this isn't negotiable- ow."
This time, it's nettles.
~
"Pick one."
Saul stares blankly at the green and yellow harnesses the Solarian princess displays for him, trying to wrap his head around their meaning and hoping to God he's wrong.
"If this is some sort of reveal-"
"Nobody's pregnant," Stella snaps, "Bloom bought them as a joke but we actually don't think they're the worst idea. It's easier than carrying the pot around and worrying about dropping it again, and she can't stick you through the padding when she's feeling prickly. No offense," she tosses to the fern at Saul's elbow.
So he was right: they are front facing baby carriers. And thank God he was wrong as to their purpose.
"Just pick a color," Stella shakes them with purpose and Saul risks a glance to Farah, who is suspiciously fern-remaining on the matter. He takes the green one.
"Keep the other," he encourages, "A village and all that."
Stella beams and breezes from the office while Saul leans back in the chair, re-familiarizing himself with the device from Sky's baby days.
"It's really not a terrible idea, actually," he comments, and it's stoking her rage, he knows, to laugh when he looks at her, but he can't help it. It erupts out of him, and it feels good to see the humorous side of this entire strange situation when he spends most of his time missing her.
Farah remains silent, but the deadly nightshade sitting across from him says all he needs to know.
~
Spot the Nurse Jackie reference, and thank you to @faytalepsy both for the ask and the earlier suggestion of the baby backpack!
#fate: the winx saga#eve best#fate the winx saga#ftws#fate winx saga#farah dowling#saul silva#rob james collier#winx stella#hannah van der westhuysen#ben harvey#fate fanfic#farah the fern#fate asks
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
10, 20, and 38! (I rolled a dice so I have no idea which ones these are 👀)
And A for the creator ask!
Oh boy, a fun selection!! This'll be long, hopefully I can put a read more here via mobile. Also, I'm gonna answer the creator one first,
A) Why are you excited about this character?
*drags over a chair* WELL I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED. Though I guess an easier question would be what am I not excited about over Talis. I love him!! He's my boy!! He'll second-guess himself into the ground over something as simple as small talk, and he'll commit physical violence to protect a frightened stranger. He's convinced he's a terrible, foreboding presence and he gives off the biggest kicked puppy energy ever
He's seven feet tall and tries to stand as small as he can. He knits and mends to calm himself. If he stares at the sky too long he'll cry. He'll swear on his life to help someone get somewhere safely and he fully means it. He can't spend more than a few weeks traveling with someone before he's convinced he needs to leave for their own safety.
He once became a crux-point person in the change of power in an entire city, was nearly executed in another's place, and I'm not sure he realizes it. He befriended an injured owlbear. He's functionally homeless. He's absurdly powerful for a random forest stray living outside a town in the middle of nowhere, and he still will hire himself out as a day laborer in exchange for a meal
More seriously, he's become a very near and dear representation of an archetype I've always felt drawn to but never really sat down to extrapolate or write with abandon-- the self-sacrificing hero. The one who will put himself in danger to protect others. And specifically, the toll that takes, time and again, throwing yourself between another and cruelty you can't stop. The way it warps your thoughts and your view of yourself
And hopefully also how you learn to redirect that protective instinct into a healthy direction, how to grow and heal and value yourself again >:T But we're working on that bit
10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?
I mean, tbh, everything haunts him-- he lets nothing go :') But the lie he tells most frequently, and actively, is probably about his own state or well-being. The simple regular ones, "I'm fine" and "it's nothing", the ones you tell to keep going. He doesn't think much of it, actually. He's sturdy and has survived worse, so to fuss over a bout of fear or a single wound feels painfully pointless
20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?
Oof….. um, that would be a tricky one for our paladin lad. For you see, he's aromantic! He's never really felt a draw towards any particularly romantic relationship? But he's always been an affectionate, friendly lad, even as a kid, so growing up it was a little tricky to navigate-- he and his mom had many a long talk about how it felt weird when people made a big deal about holding hands, or how sometimes the way someone insinuated around him spending time with a friend felt uncomfortable. But she listened to his anxious talking over it, and helped him figure out that while he was fond of folk, he didn't feel drawn to them in a coupling sort of way-- just general affection or physical attraction, though he always got embarrassed to bring that up (I mean he was an absolute goob as a kid)
Now though, you're mostly just going to get a momentarily puzzled look and a shrug. He's not so talkative, these days
38. What memory do they revisit the most often?
Consciously, none. Or, he tries not to think on anything that has been, but he finds his memories of living in Neverwinter intruding most frequently when he's awake. For good or for ill, that was his safest and best home when he returned to the surface. He'll push those memories away as often as he can, because he doesn't think he has any right to miss his home there. He left voluntarily, after all. They would have kept him and looked after him forever, if he let them…
#dnd character#original character#dnd#paladin#dragonborn#ask meme#asked and answered#((hello and welcome to Look At My Disaster Son Hours))#((he's trying his best his best is just very messy and earnest))#paladin talis
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Two - Gravity Falls Fanfic
Rating: Teen
Genre: Slice of Life
Pairings: Filbrick Pines/Ma Pines
Characters: Filbrick, Ma, Shermie
Summary:
It's a sweltering summer day in 1952. Spending it in a hospital waiting room with a bored nine-year-old was not ideal, but at least it was something he had been expecting. What came after the waiting was done? That was another matter.
A stubborn tough New Jersey native, Filbrick wasn't too creative.
Having twins was not his plan, so he just shrugged and named both Stan. - A Tale of Two Stans
~.~.~.~.~
Chapter 1: Not His Plan
Glass Shard Beach, NJ
June 01, 1952
Filbrick Pines watches as his son Sherman flips through the same magazine for the fourth time. The nine-year-old's head is resting heavily against his fist and his eyes are half-lidded in boredom, but he isn't making a fuss and Filbrick is contemplating on what might be an appropriate reward for the (considering the circumstances) good behavior. And, perhaps, he is only actually looking for a way to stave off his own boredom; the two of them have been trapped in this muggy hospital waiting room for hours, after all.
Sherman sighs loudly before tossing the magazine onto the low table in front of them. "I almos' wish I was at school, instead," the boy grouses, "At leas' the air conditioner works there." He then proceeds to make a show of pulling his sweat-dampened t-shirt away from his chest.
"Boy," Filbrick says, his tone warning enough that nothing further is needed.
"Sorry, Dad," the child immediately responds, "It's jus' so hot! ...and I'm bored."
Filbrick sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He can't argue on either count. The pawnshop owner himself has not only discarded his suit jacket, but also rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and even gone so far as to undo the first three buttons of his shirt. 'And still sweating like a pig,' he thinks despairingly. And, to top it off, there really is little to nothing to occupy themselves with in the room.
He stares down at Sherman long enough that the child starts to squirm under his gaze. "We'll stop for ice cream on our way home," Filbrick finally decides.
Sherman brightens immediately at the thought. "Really?" he asks, bouncing slightly in his chair.
"Hmm," Filbrick returns, the barest hint of a smile hidden beneath his mustache, "if you keep on your best manners while we wait to meet your brother."
"Yes, sir!" the boy chirps before he blinks and adds, "I thought Mom said I was getting a baby sister?"
The man shrugs. "Your mother says a lot of things."
"Yeah..." Sherman stretches the word out as he eyes his father carefully, "but normally you jus' agree with her."
A surprised snort of laughter escapes him before before he can stop it, followed by a chuckle. "Come here, you scamp." Sherman grins widely before abandoning his own chair for his father's knee. "Firstly," Filbrick begins after the boy is settled, "I 'normally just agree' with your mother because it's too much work to argue with her. And if you tell her I said that, you can kiss your allowance goodbye for a month." Sherman nods quickly, pressing a finger to his grinning lips. "And second... Your mother and I don't know if the baby will be a boy or girl, just that they're coming. We find out today."
"Oh..." the boy thinks for a second and then suggests, "Maybe I'll get both! A baby brother and a baby sister!"
"Twins?" Filbrick manages as he tries to stifle further laughter, "Don't let your mother know you're wishing that on her, knucklehead. She wouldn't appreciate the thought of having to deliver two babies instead of one."
"Why?"
"Oh... Well..."
Both of the Pines males are distracted from their conversation when a new sound is added to the background noise: namely, a very loud, high-pitched crying.
"Mister Filbrick Pines?" a harried nurse inquires as she sticks her head through the doorway.
"That's me," Filbrick responds as he quickly rises from his seat and deposits Sherman in his place, "Did something happen?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Mister Pines," the nurse rushes to explain while entering the room properly, revealing the squalling newborn she's holding, "This isn't normal procedure, but it's Sunday and we're running on a skeleton crew and I really do need to be getting back to help the doctor with the rest of the delivery. Here, this is your son. Careful, now! Support his head. We just weren't expecting two!"
Before he has had time to truly process what is happening, the nurse has successfully transferred the crying babe into Filbrick's arms and is scurrying back the way she came.
'Two?' he thinks faintly, 'We're not prepared for twins! Oh God, what if the nurse is wrong and there's more than just two?'
"Wow, he's really loud! Are all babies like this? Does this mean my baby sister is next?"
The words jolt Filbrick from his worries and back to the present. "Hmph. We'll see." The man finally tears his gaze away from the door the nurse had disappeared through and redirects it to the screaming bundle in his arms.
A grimace of disgust takes over his face. The boy is still covered in the gore of childbirth. 'They didn't even bother to clean him up before dragging him all through the hospital?' He teases a corner of the blanket free and uses it to wipe away some of the blood (and other fluids he doesn't want to think about) from his son's face.
With the loosening of the fabric, it isn't long before the wailing child works one of his arms free. "Hush now. You're safe," Filbrick mutters to the upset child while gently prying away the fingers clutching his shirt. He does his best to ignore the smeared handprint left behind. The shirt was already ruined, anyway. Probably.
Heedless of the piercing wails, Sherman edges closer to look at the baby. "Why's he so angry?"
"He's probably more scared than angry, Sherman. This is all new to him."
"Oh," Sherman gazes up at his father, "You should sing."
Filbrick blinks and then turns to look at the nine-year-old. "Excuse me?"
"You should sing," the boy repeats with a nod, "When I get scared, Mom sings, and then I feel better."
"Boy, I do not sing." Sherman looks like he might try to press the idea so Filbrick adds, "Believe me, if you'd ever heard me attempt to do so, you'd be grateful for that fact."
Sherman frowns for a moment, and then, "If you don't sing... Should I sing?"
Filbrick shrugs, bouncing his newborn son in his arms with the motion. "Not sure it'll help, but you can try."
~.~.~.~.~
You can read the rest of the story on AO3.
6 Chapters
10K Words
Completed 07/10/2016
Happy reading!
#fanfiction#fanfic#commehterfic#archive of our own#ao3#gravity falls#filbrick pines/ma pines#filbrick pines#ma pines#shermie pines#ford pines#stan pines#stan twins#character study#filbrick pines centric#wherein filbrick is human#family#fatherhood#parenting#infants#birth#glass shard beach#1950s#sliceoflife
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Despite everything yesterday, my last ask inspired me to write this :')
After the events of Zombies 2, Willa consistently (like, once every couple months) admits she maybe needs to rest and plans to take a day off, to the joy and relief of all. But as soon as the day dawns, she’s restless. Her packmates tell her to relax, sometimes going so far as to physically drag her back to the den. But when they turn around, they notice she's following behind them, doing her chores and tasks anyway. Even on extremely low-energy days when most of the pack is resting, Willa is checking on others or working on a project. It's almost like it's her natural, idle state to fuss.
Deep down, Willa still feels the urge that she has to protect her pack, has to make sure they survive (despite them thriving, especially now that they’ve got the moonstone back). It’s a habit she doesn't know how to shake, one that frustrates her to no end. The battle is over, she knows she's allowed to breathe, but she just can't. 'I'm too used to the routine', she thinks. The pack's given up trying and maybe she should too. It's been a good way to keep her mind busy and sharp at least.
So fast forward to after the events of Zombies 3. Aspen, observing their first "Willa Day", immediately decides to confront Willa about it. "You said you wouldn't work today", they say, curious. "But I forgot about this", "I'll be done in a minute", "Don't worry about it", the replies roll off Willa's tongue like they always do.
After talking (see lovingly interrogating) the town, Aspen is determined to actually make Willa chill out on Willa Day. They recruit the entire town to help. Everyone's been told that if they see Willa, they should gently corral her back home. Addison and Zed --returning from Mountain College for winter break and itching to see what’s changed-- immediately jump into the fray of fulfilling Willa’s duties. Wynter, Wyatt, and the rest of Willa's pack clean up, prepare lunch, and make a big fluffy nest in the middle of their den so Willa never has to move a muscle. And Aspen is tasked with making sure Willa never leaves said nest. A perfect plan, if Aspen could say so themself.
When Willa wakes up that morning, she is shocked. 'There really is nothing left to do in town other than relax here', she thinks defeatedly as she slumps into the nest next to her partner. The day creeps along, they begin to binge-watch a generic sitcom together, and Aspen is truly exposed to cuddles for the first time. It is hilarious and awkward as it sounds, a mix of Aspen trying to replicate their research on comfiest positions and Willa trying to make them let loose. They eventually find their groove.
As the afternoon lulls, in that quiet, comfortable space between episodes --where there’s enough quiet to hear her own thoughts, where it feels like everything might be alright without her— Willa does something she hasn't done in years.
She cries.
Aspen freezes; crying isn’t relaxing and Willa should be smiling. But…it feels like this time, maybe it’s ok for Willa to not smile. Maybe this is exactly what she needed.
The next day, Willa would attest that it was the worst day ever, that she couldn't wait to get back and can someone take those stupid "Willa: Do Not Enter" signs off the froyo cart?? But not even she could deny how she walked with a fondness in her eye, with a little bit of weight off her shoulders.
#hoooooooly crap I didn't mean to write this much#just learned how to add the 'keep reading' feature let's goooo#I actually don't remember if Willa goes to Mountain College with Zed/Addi but I like to think she doesn't#disney zombies#zombies 2#zombies 3
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
"Would you like me to keep going, master..?"
It's not like she's going to remember all of them. Or understand half of them. But she's going to need to know, if nothing else so she knows what positions he's unused to, which ones will actually bother him. She wonders how long he could hold the bridge for if she's carving into his skin. An idea to play with later.
"Not now. You can write out a list for me later. You will maintain that conditioning. And only three hundred pounds? That, you'll improve. As long as you are able to lift weights." It really wouldn't be fair to make him bench press if she has to take all fingers from one hand.
"Yes, master," says her new pet. Very respectfully, even if he is looking at her face.
She leans forward again, traces the line of his cheekbone with one finger. She's about lower her hand to his throat when her phone rings.
"Cage," she snaps at him, and glances at her phone. It's Bryce. Won't he be surprised. And she can invite him for dinner, too. She turns into her desk and answers.
"Bryce! What's up?"
"I was going to ask you that," he sounds mildly disapproving. "Heard through the grapevine that that you acquired a new pet." So fast! She wanted to tell him. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now.
"What's that saying about gossip flying faster than…Something." Happiness bubbles out of her, and she laughs. "I have. He's much better looking than yours," she brags, "and just as well-trained."
"Just as…?"
Oh, he doubts, does he? Hers won't try to run.
"I can take him out in public too. Just like yours." She stretches her legs, rolling her desk chair back a little. Towards the cage, really.
"Really." There's that trademark Stryerson tone.
"Really," she defends. It's true. He'll see. "Oh, Bryce, you should meet him." She sighs happily. "Maybe I could bring him to dinner at your place? Let the puppies play?"
He's noncommittal in response. Damn it. He'll 'think about it'. Oh, maybe it's just his general standoffishness about his household? The man likes his privacy. That's fine, she doesn't care where they meet.
"You do that," she smiles, "Or both of you can come here, of course." In fact, that's a better plan. It's not like he can cook at all. Something niggles at the back of her mind. Oh, she was supposed to get that report from him. He sent parts of it. "Oh, I got some of your research today, but not all of it. Are you getting slow in your old age?" It's a gentle teasing, and he's only like, what, eight or nine years older than she is, but it's teasing he's taken good-naturedly before, so maybe it'll amuse him.
"I'm working on it. You sent a hell of a long list."
Of course she did. Needed to cover every problem that might come from bringing in pets, but without using the words 'human' or 'person'. It took some doing to create that list, and she's proud of it. Of course, he can't know that. But if he's going to take forever, that might throw off her schedule with Saša being at a warehouse when his pet is…
"Yeah, yeah. I still need those cameras set up, too." Ha, that's subtle.
He says something about the list, and she responds uncertainly. Then he promises to get all the warehouse cameras set up by the end of the week. Good enough. She grumbles a little for the form of it, but doesn't raise a fuss. Then Bryce returns to the subject of the day.
"So, where'd you get this new pet anyway?"
"One of my teams found him. Took him along with the money we were owed." And they've been briefed, and her story is consistent, and it's not like she can brag about that to him, damn it. She can gush, though, and she does. "Oh, Bryce, he's adorable. And he'll look so good bleeding, I just know he will."
Bryce is again non-committal. Is he still sore that her people stole some of his glory in punishing his? Probably. He's like that.
"I'm serious, though," she insists, "I want him to see yours." Show him the consequences of trying to run. How can she induce Bryce to bring his, though? "I'll get Cook to fix your favorite dinner…"
"Let me think about it. Dinners with you and my pet haven't exactly gone well, so far."
Oh, is that the issue? Really. She's over that. Jordan was an amateur, and she's better off with Saša. And his pet knows Jordan is dead, now, shouldn't be begging to go back to them anymore. Really, she did Bryce a favor. But he doesn't see it that way, of course.
"So let me fix it. I'll send you a few dates." There's a loud knock at her door, and she rolls her chair over a little. "Oh, I've gotta go. Byeeeee!"
It's Robby, with a tray of food from the kitchen. There's a mini bottle of 2022 Chenin Blanc that she's been saving for a special occasion, a private celebration. Closing the deal with Petrov certainly qualifies.
She takes the tray from Robby and he walks away.
"Pet," she orders, "Basement. I'll expect you back by," she glances at her phone, "six-thirty." That's more than half an hour, plenty of time for the mutt to get lost and still gulp down some food. She shuts the door behind him and retires to her bed, opening up the legs of the tray and reclining against her pillows on top of the comforter.
Previous
"Not now. You can write out a list for me later. You will maintain that conditioning. And only three hundred pounds? That, you'll improve. As long as you are able to lift weights."
She pauses. "Yes, master," he says in response. He misses any of the meaning behind the phrase, as long as you are able to lift weights.
Mal reaches out and traces over his cheekbone with one finger. He fights a natural impulse to lean in a bit. It's not a sharp touch, even if it isn't meant to be kind...
Her phone rings.
"Cage." She snaps. The pet immediately returns to the cage, sitting on the floor of it silently.
"Bryce! What's up?" The pet hears her answer the phone. He's not trying to listen, but it's not like he can turn off his hearing.
There's a brief pause while someone on the other end— Bryce— speaks. "What's that saying about gossip flying faster than…Something. I have. He's much better looking than yours, and just as well-trained."
Is she talking about him? Surely not.
A short pause, and then, "I can take him out in public too. Just like yours."
Oh, so she is talking about him. He fights back his interest in the conversation and can't help the slight pride at being called, better looking than yours. but then again, she did say better, not that it was actually good. He knows he's not much to look at— aside from being pretty strong now. It makes him wonder what this other— other pet?— looks like...
"Really. Oh, Bryce, you should meet him." She sighs, seemingly happy. "Maybe I could bring him to dinner at your place? Let the puppies play?"
It is another pet.
"You do that. Or both of you can come here, of course. Oh, I got some of your research today, but not all of it. Are you getting slow in your old age? .......... Yeah, yeah. I still need those cameras set up, too. .......... One of my teams found him. Took him along with the money we were owed. Oh, Bryce, he's adorable. And he'll look so good bleeding, I just know he will."
Mal isn't looking at him, but the pet still hides the fear he feels after hearing that. Bleeding... She really does seem to want him to be hurt... He could tell even from the meeting she had with Saša. How long will it be until she stops being as gentle as she has been so far..?
"I'm serious, though. I want him to see yours. I'll get Cook to fix your favorite dinner…"
... Why? Why see this other pet? Just... because? Or is there another reason. She seems to think he looks better than this other pet does. Is it because this other pet is scarred from the consequences of poor choices and disobedience..? That's a bit of a scary thought... He pushes it aside, though. He not supposed to be listening to this call.
"So let me fix it. I'll send you a few dates." There's a loud knock at the door, and Mal rolls her chair over a little. "Oh, I've gotta go. Byeeeee!"
At the door is a man with a tray of food for Mal. She receives it.
"Pet," she orders, "basement. I'll expect you back by," she glances at her phone, "six-thirty."
The pet exits immediately as prompted. He doesn't know how to get to the basement, but it doesn't matter. He'll figure it out. He also isn't really sure what time it is. He'll just be as quick as he can be and hope that she meant the half hour time frame she said earlier and didn't change it to shorter. There's not really a lot he can do if he doesn't get back in time. He'll just have to be prepared to take punishment. He's scared of what a punishment by her will be like, though...
He finds his way quickly to the kitchen— he figures that's where he's seen most basement entries. The kitchen is huge. And there's more than one door. He could just start opening doors. He's about to when the man in the kitchen gives him a look.
"Your dinner's down there, mutt," he says, pointing, before turning back to what he was doing, laughing.
"Thank you, sir." The pet says quickly, dipping his head a little despite the man's back being turned.
The pet heads through the door the man indicated. Then through another door. Then another door. Finally, there are stairs. The pet descends quickly.
At the bottom of the stairs, there is a table with a plate of food and a cup of water. He doesn't see anyone else. He eats and then takes his dishes back up the stairs. The man from before is gone.
Before he returns to Mal's room, the pet washes his dishes and puts them away, then comes back up to the room. By his estimate, it's been about fifteen minutes by the time he knocks quietly on her door with a, "master, I'm back. May I come in?" He doesn't want to surprise her by just walking in. If she doesn't answer, he'll assume she's out of the room and go wait in the cage.
#It's not like he can cook at all#Love that this is common knowledge#Also the bit about basement entries being in kitchens#is definitely based on personal experience.#roman cates#whumplr reader#bryce stryerson#whumpee#roleplay#whump roleplay#rp#whump#caretaker#whump rp
0 notes
Text
The Things We Do For Coin Chapter 4
Azami makes friends, U'rabta pokes her nose where it doesn't belong, the girls finally join their respective guilds.
Rest of the fic here
It wasn’t long before Pink finally returned. Azami looked her over and noted a distinctly self-satisfied smirk. It looked like the refugees had accepted their coin.
Azami sighed and stood to greet her. “Alright. We still need to find the aetheryte plaza and our respective guilds. No more getting distracted.”
“Right!” Pink nodded, no doubt already plotting their next distraction.
As the day had gone on, the crowds at the market had thinned somewhat. They made it through to archway they had entered the markets through so many bells ago without half as much fuss as passing through in the other direction. As they began the long trek back towards their ultimate goal, Pink stopped her and pointed.
“Aetheryte! Aetheryte! Go go go!” She cheered with frankly unnecessary enthusiasm. Azami grumbled, but did as she was asked.
“What does the Aetheryte plaza look like, anyway?” Azami asked. Pink had said that the big crystal would be massive. Surely she would be able to spot something that large over the roofs of the buildings?
“I’m not sure. The one back home is just in the middle of the village, but I guess it would be fancier in the city.” Pink shrugged.
“You have one in your village?”
“Yep! I’ve already attuned to it, so I can go home real fast whenever I so choose.”
“Sounds pretty convenient. And you’re certain it’s safe?”
“I’ve done it a bunch of times. It's fine."
Azami still wasn't so certain, but Pink seemed to think it would be fine. She had witnessed other people using the aetherytes around the city, and they all seemed to be alright as well. Perhaps there truly was nothing to be afraid of?
"The only thing about aetherytes is that you have to pay a fee to use them." Pink explained, "They charge more the farther you teleport, so right now we can't afford to use one. But I'm sure that once we get a few more jobs under our belts we'll be able to pop right back to the city whenever we've finished out in the field."
"If we ever get that far." Azami grumbled. She couldn't help but be a little skeptical of their progress after spending the day with Pink. They had been at the most basic tasks for so long, and still they had only achieved one of their objectives.
"I'm sure the aetheryte is around here somewhere." Pink assured her, striding forward with a confidence that Azami was certain she had not earned.
"Oh! Hello again!" Pink called, waving to somebody. Azami glanced over to who she was excitedly waving to. She thought that perhaps he was somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place him. Before Azami could ask Pink for more information, the girl had run off to talk to him. Azami sighed and followed after her.
"My, my. It seems you two have been busy." the man greeted them with an irritating smirk. His eyes were hidden by tinted glasses, but Azami felt certain that the smile didn't reach them. Who was this guy, and what business of his was it what they had been up to?
"Uh-huh!" Pink nodded enthusiastically, "Thanks for helping us find the Adventurer's Guild before, by the way. It really helped us a lot."
Oh. So that was who this guy was. Azami thought he had looked familiar.
"It was no trouble at all. From what I've heard, Mistress Momodi already has you two busy completing some small tasks."
"Yes. We were actually in the middle of one right now. Do you know which direction it is to the Aetheryte Plaza? I fear we've gotten a little turned around."
The man tutted at Pink softly before saying, "I told you before, didn't I? That advice earlier was all you would get out of me for free."
"How much could pointing in a direction possibly cost?" Azami scoffed.
"That depends upon how much it is worth to you." The man replied. The arrogance in his voice was galling.
"The way I figure it, there are only so many places it can be in this city. We can just keep walking until we find it."
"Too true, but then you would be missing out on some valuable work." the man flashed her a somewhat predatory grin, "And from what I've heard, you two just spent the last of your gil on a broken pot."
Azami started. How could he possibly have heard about that? It happened mere moments ago. Was he spying on them? For what purpose? They weren't anybody worth watching. Just two adventurers fresh off the carriage. There had to be something more to it, but Azami had no idea what it might have been.
"Now, then. If you want directions to the Aetheryte Plaza, I'll have you complete a small task for me." the man explained, "Who knows, there might even be some gil in it for you as well."
Azami glanced at Pink. The girl gave her a smile and a shrug for her troubles. It seemed that they had little choice. Azami sighed and turned her gaze back to the smug man. "Fine. What task would you have of us?"
"You, lass, need to work on talking to clients. That scowl of yours isn't going to win you any friends." the man teased as he fished something from his sleeve. It was a small roll of paper, sealed with wax. Azami took it and tucked it safely in her bag.
"You assume that I'm here to make friends."
"You'll need them, whether you like it or not, lass."
"That's what I said!" Pink chimed in. She nodded enthusiastically, apparently pleased that somebody agreed with her. Azami sighed. Whatever.
"Now, all I need is for you to deliver that missive to the clerk at the Platinum Mirage. Tell him ol' Wymond sent you." Wymond, Azami supposed, said, "Now if only all work were that easy."
"If only." Azami shrugged. She was planning on heading to the Platinum Mirage on her own regardless. It seemed he was giving her an opportunity to get that out of the way while earning herself a little extra gil. But what was in it for him? Perhaps he would call upon her later for some favor or another? Well, that would be future Azami's problem. Current Azami needed the work, no matter how slimy the client seemed to be.
"And when I return you'll point us towards the Aetheryte Plaza?" Azami confirmed. Wymond nodded, before gesturing off to a building towards her left. She noticed a sign with a fist on it near the entrance. That must have been the Platinum Mirage she had heard so much about.
"I'll be right back." she promised, heading towards the door. Pink, it seemed, had decided to stay with Wymond, pestering him with questions. Azami considered waiving the monetary fee, given how much trouble the poor man would have to go through.
The first thing Azami noticed as she passed through the double doors was the noise. Shouting and jeering and cheers echoed off of the walls. The guild was set up in much the same manner as the others she had visited during her accidental tour of the city with Pink. An upper level where spectators and the counter overlooked a pit where it seemed the actual work of the guild was done.
The lower level was a blur of activity. Despite the late hour, the pit seemed full to bursting with people of all shapes and sizes. Two large square sandy pits had been set up. Both were occupied by a pair of pugilists sparring. Each lined with students waiting their turn in the ring, cheering or mocking or offering advice. One wall was lined with striking dummies, where an obviously new student was learning how to throw a punch without dropping their hora all over the place.
Azami walked up to the woman at the counter and handed over the missive.
"I've been asked to deliver this to you." she said.
"A missive from Wymond, is it?" the unimpressed looking hyur at the counter sighed as she took the paper from her hands. She looked it over before mumbling something about vultures. She waited another long moment before she looked back up at her with a disapproving frown.
"I was told to expect payment upon delivery." she clarified. The counterman rolled his eyes and fished some change from his pocket. About one hundred gil in assorted sizes. Azami shoved the change into her pouch. She would have to remember to split it with Pink when she saw her again. If only to serve as a finder's fee.
When Azami didn't immediately depart the woman at the counter sighed and rolled her eyes once more, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"I would like to join this guild." Azami answered in an equally brisk tone, "Please."
"Gagaruna! This one's for you." the woman called back somewhere behind the counter. After a moment of waiting, Azami saw a smiling lalafell bounding up to the counter. He hopped up onto some sort of stool and looked her over.
"Greetings and welcome to the Pugilist Guild!" He greeted her warmly, "I see you already walk the path of the pugilist. Yet your journey has only just begun. I highly recommend you add your name to our roll, for there is no better place in all the realm to train in our discipline than here."
"That... was the idea, yes." Azami looked at the man with a confused frown.
"Just bear with me. I have a whole speech I have to get through." the lalafell offered with an embarrassed smile and a shrug. Azami nodded and waited for him to continue, "The origins of pugilism as we know it can be traced back to the staging of bare-handed bouts at the Coliseum. These contests attracted fighters from far and wide, bringing their myriad styles crashing together on the bloodsands."
Azami cocked her head to the side slightly. Did she really need to learn the history of punching things to learn how to punch? Was this a form of advertising, or a method of weeding out applicants? Azami couldn't tell. Heedless of her disinterest, the lalafell continued giving her a history lesson.
"Amidst these chaotic intermingling of styles, there rose a pugilist of singular strength and skill. This woman made it her life's mission to master every form she encountered, that she might refine her art. Among her many song-worthy exploits, we pugilists remember her participation in a gladiator tournament most fondly."
If he said so. Such single-minded enthusiasm sounded exhausting to deal with. A woman who made it her mission to fight every person she came across would quickly wear out her welcome, at least as far as Azami could tell. Perhaps the woman simply had a lot of passion. Passion could have inspired others to look the other way when it came to her more irritating tendencies. That was the most charitable interpretation of the story she had been able to come up with.
The lalafell looked at her expectantly, as if he were waiting on her to say something. Had he asked her a question?
"Yes." Azami said quickly, hoping that it was the correct answer.
"Full glad am I to hear it. Master Hamon is among the greatest pugilists of our time. For long years the man ruled the bloodsands as the Holyfist, though he has since retired in favor of training aspiring fighters." the lalafell pointed to a man standing above the fighting pits below. His skin tanned and leathery, "You will find him overseeing his charges yonder. Go now and show to him the fighting spirit that burns within you!"
Azami wasn't certain that what she had within her was a fighting spirit, but hopefully it would be near enough so as not to matter. She wandered over to the leathery hyur. He didn't turn to look at her when she approached, instead responding apparently only to her footsteps.
"Heh heh... Past time you got your arse back here." The "Master" said in an oily voice that made her skin crawl. Although she couldn't see his face, Azami felt as though he had a nasty smile, "Well? What did the dancer have to say about my... proposition?"
"Don't know anything about dancing." Azami replied dismissively, "But I'm told you're who I want to talk to if I want to join this guild?"
He wheeled on her quickly, eyes wide with terror at the sudden realization, "Eh?! Y-you're not my errand boy! There is no dancer- there never was! I'm not doing anything indecent, I swear to the gods!"
"Right." Azami couldn't help but quirk a wry smile. If her parents could see her now, earnestly planning on becoming a student of such an indecent man. Her father would surely die of shame on the spot. Her mother would drag her back to the farm by her horns. Or would her mother laugh? It could have gone either way.
She straightened her face and fixed him with an impatient stare, "So are you going to teach me how to fight or what?"
"What? You're here to enroll?" He said, sounding like he wasn't quite sure what those words meant. Was he quite alright? It might have been Azami's imagination, but she thought she could smell a hint of whisky in the air. There was an uncomfortably long pause before something clicked behind his eyes. Finally, he burst into a bright smile, "Ohoho, well, why didn't you say so sooner? In my capacity of guild master, I would be glad to give you a primer on the art of hand-to-hand combat!"
With a speed that belied his age, the man began to perform a series of punches. He ran through what seemed to be a repeated combination of the moves while explaining, "You'll also learn to string them together to deliver an endless flurry of blows! Only through such fierce combinations can a pugilist realize his potential!"
With a croaky battle cry, he sped up into a flurry of blows. Azami watched his movements carefully, trying to take in every detail from his footing to how his body twisted with every punch. It was true that he seemed to be nothing more than a lecherous old drunk, but he was also supposedly a master of the style. Surely there would be something worth learning from him.
His blows against the air began to slow, and eventually trickled to a stop. With his hands on his knees, the old man began to wheeze, "Crikey, I'm spent from all this talking. You ought to speak more, lass- it'd give me a chance to catch my breath. But where was I?"
Surely there must have been something she could learn. Well, she supposed, if he couldn't be trusted to serve as a teacher, he could at least serve her as a terrible warning. About the dangers of drinking and growing old. Azami nodded to herself, promising that she would never become a sorry old drunk like the man before her.
"Yes, you have fighting spirit- I can see it in your eyes. I see no reason to deny you a place in these halls. Welcome to the guild, lass." her new master beamed at her. Azami blinked. Had he asked her a question?
"Great. When can I start?" she asked, beyond ready to begin her training. The sooner she got his go ahead, the sooner she would be able to take on more lucrative jobs.
"Eager, are we?" he asked before belting out a laugh, "Don't blame you. It's not every day you become a student of Hamon Holyfist!"
Azami opened her mouth to point out that he hadn't actually answered her question when a lalafellen woman strode over to them. She looked Azami over for a moment before asking, "Is this a new student, Master?"
"Ah! Chuchuto! Yes, this young lass just signed our roster." Master Hamon confirmed.
"I... uh... actually haven't signed anything. Do you need me to sign something?" Azami asked. Chuchuto sighed and shook her head with a fond smile.
"Master Hamon gets overexcited and forgets such details. Don't you worry, I'll take things from here, Master." she promised, motioning for Azami to follow her. Azami walked with her back to the desk, where she was presented with another book to sign her name in.
"So... When do we start?" she asked, hoping that the lalafell would be more helpful than their master. Chuchuto hummed in response, looking her over before glancing at a chronometer on the wall.
"It's getting late. There isn't much we could accomplish by starting now." she hummed, "Report to me first thing tomorrow morning! Come ready to sweat!"
"I see. I will come first thing in the morning." Azami promised with a bow. She took a moment to look over the pits below and observe the more experienced students. Aside from one who was obviously a newer recruit, they all seemed so confident. She supposed they would have to be, going up against people armed with swords and axes with naught but their own two fists.
It seemed like the lalafell... Azami needed to make note of her name. It had started with a chyu, hadn't it? Chuychyu...ko? That sounded about right. Chyuchyuko was going to be the one to take over her training. Azami could hardly complain. Despite her small size, the older student seemed a lot more put together than her "master" had.
A smaller stature would probably work better, given what she knew of their fighting style. Slipping through the cracks and delivering a series of blows was easier for someone who was smaller. She hoped. Azami was fairly confident in her own strength after her life of working in the fields. But would that be enough to help her put power behind her blows? Standing around wondering would do her no good. Besides, Pink was no doubt beginning to grate on poor Wymond's nerves.
With a small sigh, she prepared to move on when somebody shouted, "Hey, you! I saw you lookin’ at me."
Azami paused and looked around. She saw the man who shouted, a rough looking hyur with an unpleasant scowl. Was he shouting at her? She didn't realize that she had been staring at him, lost in her own thoughts as she had been. What a bother. She shrugged and made to leave once more.
"Hey! I'm talkin' at you." he advanced on her, climbing over the banister to speak to her face to chest. Azami wasn't exactly intimidated by his large stature. She had grown up around men who were fulms taller than she her entire life. Still, he was being irritating and loud and in her way .
"And I do not care." she scoffed, "If you'll excuse me, I've places to be."
The man made a loud noise of disbelief, bending down to get a better look at her unimpressed face.
"You wanna try that again?" he snarled, his breath sour. Eyes flashed as he realized just how unafraid she was. No doubt he was used to pushing people around.
"The only reason I'm lookin' at your ugly mug is because it's in my fucking face." she sneered back at him, knowing how foolish she was being. He was bigger and stronger and undoubtedly more skilled than she was. She hadn't even had her first lesson yet. All her mouthing off was going to accomplish was getting her a bloodied nose and a blackened eye. If she was lucky.
Almost by instinct, Azami began running an inventory in her mind. She was small and quick, with decent stamina. It was possible that she could tire him out by being too difficult to hit, if it came to that. Returning fire would be something of an issue, given her lack of training. There didn't seem to be any objects nearby that she could use as an improvised weapon either. What would happen if she did get hit? It would hurt, that much was certain. Azami knew she could take a punch or two. Her pain threshold was pretty high. The real question was just how many could she take before she could no longer continue?
There was only one way to find out, she supposed. But it would be best if it didn't come to that.
To her surprise, the man laughed. He clapped her on the shoulder roughly, "You've got guts! Bugger all for brains, but guts. I like that."
Azami paused, uncertain about what was happening. Her mental arithmetic having been thrown off by the sudden change in atmosphere. Were they going to get into a fight or not?
"Yer a 'venturer, right?" the man asked. Azami nodded confirmation, still uncertain as to what was happening, "I've got a job for you. You know Didilata? Short, broke, never pays what he owes?"
"I can't say that I do. I've only gotten to the city today." she explained. He frowned and thought for a moment.
"Well, that bleedin' whoreson owes me. Tell him to pay up, or I swear by the Twelve Gelther'll beat him so hard it'll feel like the second comin' of Dalamud!"
"I see. What does he look like?"
The imposing man gave her a brief physical description of her quarry. Dark skin and hair with yellow eyes. Usually hanging out near the Thaumaturgy Guild. She nodded and made a mental note of it. Didila...to? Whatever. She was certain that he would be easy enough to identify.
"I'd do it myself, but if I see that little shite’s face, I’ll end up poundin' him into a bloody pulp, like as not."
"I assume I can expect to be paid for my services."
"I'll pay you by not breaking yer ribs."
"If I were afraid of a few broken ribs, I wouldn't have joined this guild, now would I?"
The man, Gelthur she supposed, laughed and clapped her on the shoulder once more. It was difficult to tell where she stood with this strange man. Were all the people in this guild so odd? Azami hoped that she would be able to keep to herself if that were the case.
"I like you, Tiny. I'll buy you a drink after you've finished." he promised. Somehow, Azami didn't think that she was going to get a better offer.
"Sounds good." she shrugged, choosing to ignore the obnoxious nickname he had bestowed upon her. Tiny? How dare he! It wasn't her fault that she was so short! She had drank so much milk as a child. It wasn't fair.
She bustled past her new acquaintance and made her way back outside of the guild. Pink was still chattering away at an increasingly dismayed Wymond.
"Ah! You've returned!" he brightened at her presence, clearly grateful that his ordeal had ended. Azami only felt a little bit guilty for leaving him to babysit Pink while she had been away. He was, after all, still a sleeze.
"Welcome back! Did you have fun?" Pink asked. Azami chose to ignore her for now. This wasn't about having fun. This was about working.
"So. Where's that Aetheryte Plaza?" she asked. Wymond pointed vaguely to the street opposite the Pugilist guild.
"See that building there? That's the Hall of Flames." he explained, "Right next door is the Aetheryte Plaza."
"So... It's literally just... that right there." Azami confirmed, pointing at the archway. In the dwindling evening light she could see a faint blue glow emanating from inside.
"That's it." Wymond confirmed. Azami clenched her jaw so as not to let out the heavy sigh that lived in her chest. Had he really made her go through all that trouble, when he could have pointed it out? Well, at least she had been able to cross another objective off her list. And she had gotten paid for her services. She couldn't complain overmuch. Even if this city and everyone in it was ridiculous.
"That reminds me, Pink." Azami fished out fifty gil in assorted coins and handed it to her partner, "Here's your share."
"But you did all the work!" Pink protested, attempting to force the gil back into her hands.
"It's a finder's fee. Take the fucking gil." Azami pushed the hand away, but Pink wouldn't be dissuaded. She thrust the gil back out for Azami to take.
"You need it more than I do."
"Nonsense! I already have another job lined up."
Pink paused, suddenly seeming very excited. Her ears wiggled as she asked, "You got a job all by yourself?"
"Yes?"
"You mean you talked to someone in need and agreed to help them? On your own?"
"No, they approached me."
"Oh..." Pink's enthusiasm melted away quickly, her ears and tail drooping. Azami clicked her tongue in annoyance. It wasn't worth arguing the point. Why did she even care how they had gotten the job? The point was that they had gotten it.
"'Course... he's not paying in gil." Azami grumbled, heading for the Plaza. Pink zipped ahead of her, arms stretched out on either side as if she were mimicking an airship.
"A favor then?" Pink asked spinning to look at Azami.
"A drink."
Pink slowed to a stop, thinking deeply about what Azami had said. Azami kept walking, brushing past her as she entertained whatever strange notions went on in that little head of hers. Hopefully she wouldn't strain herself.
"So... a date?" Pink asked.
"Hardly." Azami scoffed. Although, now that Pink had mentioned it... No. That would be absurd. It was just a drink after work. She doubted she was even his type. This was ridiculous. Pink giggled and ran past her once more.
"Azami's got a daaate~" she sang.
"By the Kami. What are you, twelve?"
"Azami and... Hey, what's the client's name?"
"I don't remember. Gumbo or something."
"How do you not remember? What's the job, anyway?"
"I'm supposed to track down some lalafell and tell him that Geralt wants his money."
Pink sighed and shook her head. "That's no good! What's the lalafell's name?"
"I... think it started with an L?"
"Azami!"
"It's fine." Azami assured her distressed companion. Poor girl clearly needed time to get used to how these things were done. A job where the reward was a single drink was hardly a priority. "I have a physical description to go off of, and I can probably fake my way through the names if I have to."
"I can't leave you to do anything on your own, can I?" Pink shook her head slowly. Azami opened her mouth to retort, but found the words dying in her throat. It would be better to simply leave it be, she decided.
"It'll be fine. Anyway, Aetheryte." Azami pointed to the massive stone, hoping to distract Pink.
It was as massive as had been advertised, a towering floating stone that was easily as tall as a house. Around the glowing blue crystal was a ring of wrought metal, hovering and spinning slowly. Azami wondered what the ring was for. Was it what kept the aetheryte aloft? As for the crystal itself, it glowed brightly bathing the room in a soft blue light.
Pink raced ahead, holding her hand up to the strange crystal. Azami slowly followed, raising her hand to attune to the crystal as she had the others. For all the good it did her. Azami still wasn't certain she would even be able to utilize the aetheryte network, given her condition. Perhaps one of the attendants would be able to tell her more about it?
Luckily, she didn't need to stop and look for one. A lalafellen man in a uniform approached her quickly.
"Hail, adventurers! Might you have come at the behest of Miss Momodi of the Quicksand?" the man offered them a hearty greeting and a smile. Azami nodded.
"We sure did!" Pink confirmed loudly. Azami had thought that a simple nod would have sufficed.
"Excellent. Which brings me to the matter of the attunement fee- that will be one hundred thousand gil, if you please, madam."
"What?" Pink gasped, quickly spiraling into a panic, "I... I didn't know there would be a fee! I'm sorry! I don't have that much money. Can I unattune?"
The lalafell quicly burst into a hearty laugh at poor Pink's reaction. Azami bit her tongue to hold back her own laughter.
"Apologies, but I do so relish the opportunity to make that jest. The look on your face was absolutely priceless!" he laughed, "Ah, but the fact that you were so easily deceived suggests to me that you are unfamiliar with the use of aetherytes."
"No! I know lots about using aetherytes!" Pink protested. She flashed him an awkward smile, "It's just everything here in the city is so expensive! I wouldn't be surprised if there were fees for something like that."
The attendant nodded solemnly. Everything in Ul'dah did seem to come with a price. It seemed unusual that something as convenient as teleportation would come without one. Azami didn't actually know who ran the aetheryte system. Were they not involved in the government in Thanalan? How puzzling.
"There are no fees to attune to any aetheryte in Eorzea. Disregard anyone who tells you otherwise." the man explained patiently, "You should keep your wits about you. That naivety of yours will lead some unscrupulous types to take advantage of you if you're not careful."
"Yes..." Pink wilted under his gentle scolding. Azami gently reached out to pat the girl on the shoulder. Being so quickly to take others at their word shouldn't have been as dangerous as it was. If everyone were so honest, perhaps the world would have been a better place. But that wasn't the world they lived in. Until Pink could learn to stand on her own, Azami would just have to make certain she didn't run headlong into any lies spun by clever tongues.
"I did have one other question." Azami said. She paused, embarrassed to even speak of it. It was such a shameful thing, truly, "I... have a condition. I'm unable to use most forms of magic. If I were to try to use an aetheryte... would... would that be safe for someone like me?"
The attendant mulled the question over for a short time. Without knowing the full extent of her problem, there was no way to be certain what would happen if she tried. Finally he seemed to come to a conclusion, "Well, if you truly are unable to use the Teleport or Return spells, then they would fail before your body broke down to travel along the aether currents."
"Before my what does what now?" Azami asked.
"Ah. Well, the mechanics of those spells aren't as dangerous as they sound. With the Aetherytes in place teleportation is perfectly safe! We have never lost a customer." the attendant assured her.
"What do you mean lost?"
"Well, to cast a teleportation spell- Either Teleport or Return- you must break your body down into its base components. Namely, aether, and set it adrift in the Aethereal Sea." the attendant said, clearly attempting to assuage her fears, "These aetherytes serve as beacons, pulling your aether out of the Aetheral Sea and reconstituting it here in the material world."
"That sounds... dangerous."
"It's totally safe!" Pink chimed in, "I use Teleport all the time to get home real fast!"
"Back before we had aetherytes teleportation magic was extremely dangerous." the attendant conceded, "But with the aetherytes it's safer than any form of travel. As I said, we have never lost a customer."
"And... the spell would fail before I actually broke down into aether if I really can't cast it?" Azami asked.
"Absolutely."
Azami nodded and thanked the man for his time. Somehow, she still wasn't convinced. Teleportation would have to be a last resort. Her own two legs could carry her wherever she needed to go, or if she needed to cross another ocean she could find a boat. There was no need to risk her life by plunging herself into the Lifestream all willy nilly.
There was but one stop left on their itinerary. They needed to get Pink to the Thaumaturgy Guild. If Azami had heard Momodi correctly, then it would be at the end of the street they had been walking down. They simply needed to keep heading in the direction they had been.
While they walked, Azami couldn't keep her troubling thoughts at bay. The attendant had said that it was perfectly safe, but he would say that, wouldn't he? He had a vested interest in convincing people to use the teleportation network. Surely people would be hesitant to do so if they were informed that it was less than safe.
She simply didn't know enough about it to dispute him with anything other than possibly unfounded fears. Still, even knowing that she did not know wouldn't quiet her fears. Azami decided that perhaps speaking them aloud might help. Pink was- at least theoretically- versed in magic of some kind or another. Perhaps she would understand it better than she had.
"Hey Pink." she said, catching her companion's attention.
"U'rabta." Pink supplied her name once more. Azami shook her head. Pink suited her just fine.
"So, like... Oh... how do I put this? I'm me, right?" she started.
"Uh...huh." Pink nodded slowly, not certain what Azami was trying to get at.
"So... if I were to cast a Teleport spell, and broke myself down into aether, would the me that reformed on the other side still be me? Or would this me have effectively died and been replaced by an identical copy?"
"Well... It's all the same aether, it's just moved. I don't see why it wouldn't be the same you." Pink hummed as she thought about the question, "Besides, if the copy is identical in every way- with all of the same thoughts and feelings and memories and stuff- I don't see how that would be any different from it being the same as the original you."
"But it would be different, wouldn't it? Because the original me got broken down at the start."
"No, no. It's just like how if you load some crates onto a cart and move them. The crates aren't different crates when they reach their destination."
"But putting a crate onto a cart is different from teleporting, isn't it?"
"I... suppose... Alright, well, if you take the crate apart and transport the planks of wood and nails, and then reassemble it exactly how it was at the start. That would make it the same crate, wouldn't it?"
"I don't think it would. Even if you managed to get everything literally exactly how it had been at the start, the act of breaking it down in the first place must change it in some way."
"I think that it wouldn't, unless you messed up the position of the planks or nails. Or mixed one crate's parts up with another's and ended up replacing some parts along the way."
"Is... is that a thing that can happen?"
"With crates? Yes."
"With Teleport."
"No, I don't think so."
"Do you know so?"
"Alright, well, replacing a plank or two wouldn't make it a different crate anyway. I mean, replacing a bowstring doesn't make it a different bow, does it?"
"Are we talking about bows now?"
"No, I suppose not."
They lapsed into silence. Azami silently cursed herself for thinking that Pink could be anywhere even close to helpful with something like this.
"Teleporting really scares you, huh?" Pink asked.
"Nothing scares me." Azami answered almost automatically. That, of course, was a lie. There were many things that frightened her, but all of them paled in comparison to one in particular. To avoid the thing she was most afraid of, Azami could face any danger. Perhaps even casting Teleport.
"Well, I suppose we don't have to teleport to places if you don't want to." Pink said in a tone that was obviously trying for placating, "We can walk. We wouldn't have to pay teleportation fees that way! And it would be better exercise!"
"It just doesn't sound safe. That's all."
"But the nice attendant said that they've never ever lost a customer!"
"Why would he say anything else? He wants us to use the Aetherytes. It makes him money."
"Do you think he would lie about something like that just for a few extra gil?"
"People lie about stuff like that all the time to make a few extra gil. It's how they become billionaires." Azami growled, "That and stealing money from their employees."
"Wow, that sounds really awful. But don't you want to become a billionaire?"
"What? No!" Azami bristled at the thought. She wanted coin, yes, but to amass billions was immoral. Even if she came by it honestly, through her own efforts. How could she hoard an obscene amount of wealth like that and still consider herself to be anything resembling a decent person? "I'm not just saving up gil because it's fun, Pink. I need the money."
"What for?"
"It's personal."
"You can tell me!" Pink continued to prod. Azami wheeled on her, her expression cold and stony.
"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" she said slowly, enunciating every word to ensure that Pink understood. Pink huffed and turned away from her.
"Fine, fine. I was just curious." she pouted.
Azami rolled her eyes and kept moving. She knew it would be ridiculous to feel guilty for setting boundaries. Her past, her quest, it was all so personal to her. Where did Pink get off thinking she could pry information like that out of someone she had known for less than a day?
"It's painful. Even to think about." Azami admitted when the unwarranted guilt became too much to bear.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I won't bring it up again." Pink said softly. Azami hadn't known the girl for long, but she didn't think that she would go back on her promise. Pink was too honest for such things.
"It's fine. Let's just forget it." Azami flashed her a small smile, and just like that the atmosphere between them cleared. Pink brightened up as if she had never experienced doubt or anxiety in her entire life. Azami wished she could do that. Flip a switch and be perfectly fine in an instant.
As she turned back to watch where they were going, Azami noticed a figure in a corner. A lalafell with dark skin and hair, with golden eyes. She pointed at him and called out, "You there!"
"Oh, g-g-gods be good—Gelther’s g-g-goons!" the lalafell squeaked out the moment their eyes met. Gelther? Had that been the name of her client? It could have been. She decided to move past it. Azami approached the man. He pressed himself against the wall he had been standing against, his eyes darting around for any escape.
"He sent me-"
"A-alright, alright! I'll give back every gil I owe! I swear it! B-but no more beatings, I b-b-beg you!" the lalafell pleaded and cowered in his little corner. Azami almost felt for him.
"I'm not going to beat you. Gelther is. I was just sent to let you know."
The lalafell wailed in despair, searching his pockets desperately for coin that he knew wasn't there. She was definitely going to have to ask Gunther for more than a simple mug of ale as recompense for this. Eventually, her target found what he had been searching for. Slowly, almost reverently, he pulled a small tarnished ring from his pocket and held it out to her.
"Look, I haven't g-g-got the gil on hand, but I do have this ring! Ain't m-m-much to look at, but it'll surely fetch a high price." he explained. Azami was skeptical, but took the ring anyway.
"Was me dear departed mum's wedding ring, g-g-gods rest her soul. But she'll understand! Show it to Mamane, over at the Ossuary, and you'll g-g-get your coin!"
"Pretend I'm new in town." Azami said, slipping the ring into her pocket, "Where's this Ossuary."
"It's j-just down the road. Inside the Thaumaturgy Guild." her new client stammered. Azami nodded. That sounded fine by her. She could deliver what little coin the scrap of twisted copper would fetch her and give it to the big guy. That might buy the pathetic trembling mass before her a little more time, and earn her more than a drink for her trouble. It was a win for everyone involved.
"Well, we were heading there anyway." Azami shrugged, "I guess we can do you this favor."
"You will?" the lalafell looked up at Azami with tears in his eyes, "Thank you! Thank you! Gods bless you, miss."
"Right." Azami mumbled before wandering away. Such heartfelt thanks were so uncomfortable to witness. It was somehow even worse when she was the target of such things. She hadn't even done anything for him other than take his trash somewhere they were already going. How much of his hope was riding on this worthless ring? Azami almost felt guilty for taking the job.
"It was nice of you to help him like that." Pink said once they were out of earshot.
"I'm not doing it for him." she shrugged, "I might be able to wrangle some actual coin out of this job if I go above and beyond like this."
Pink didn't respond, only flashed one of her irritating knowing smirks before dashing off towards something in the distance. Azami caught a flash of blue and sighed. Another damned aetheryte, was it? She wandered over to attune as well. If she was going to do this, she may as well go all the way.
"The guild should be right up these steps." Pink said. Azami nodded.
"There's probably going to be paperwork. Do you need me to come with you?"
"Was there paperwork with your guild?"
"I had to sign the registrar and some other things. Will they even let you into this guild if you can't read?"
Pink began to dart up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her enthusiasm. At the top she turned to grin at Azami. She announced in that same chipper tone, "I don't see why not! Magic isn't about reading, it's about feeling!"
Azami frowned at Pink's odd statement. She had thought that magic would involve a lot of reading dusty old tomes and strict control. Was it really just about feeling it out? Mages must have been a dangerous lot if that were the case.
"Yeah! I'm only here because the village elders said I should get some proper instruction." Pink carried on heedless of Azami's thoughtful frown, "You set the springs on fire one time and suddenly you're a menace and a danger to the tribe."
"You did what?" Azami asked.
"Nobody was in them at the time, and I put it out! It was fine."
"I... I see."
Mages really were dangerous after all.
Azami shrugged and ascended the stairs. Together she and Pink opened the tall doors and walked inside.
The Thaumaturge's Guild was different from all of the others they had been to that day. Instead of having a pit with materials and workers, the large circular room was lined with bookshelves that stretched to the high ceiling. A row of pillars separated the entrance from what Azami assumed to be the guild proper. Curiously, Azami peeked around one of them, seeing five hooded lalafell sitting on a pile of books and discussing something. Magic, Azami assumed.
Pink had darted straight to the counter.
"Hello! I would like to become a Thaumaturge, please!" she bubbled at the poor lalafell who had the misfortune to be manning the counter as she approached.
"A wise decision indeed. To prepare for your initiation, I would have you study the volumes of fundamental thaumaturgical principle." the woman said. Pink visibly deflated at the mention of reading so many texts. At least with so much practice, she would finally learn her letters, Azami mused. The woman smirked at the crestfallen girl before continuing, "All one hundred and eight of them."
"That's so many!" Pink gasped. The woman continued to smirk cruelly at the poor girl before finally putting her out of her misery.
"Or at least, I would if such requirements had not been abolished. 'Too great a deterrent to fresh novices,' they said. I suppose you shall just have to settle for calling upon the collective wisdom of our guild masters."
Pink spared a glance to Azami, who shrugged in return. She was certain that they hadn't misheard. There were multiple guild masters? Was that allowed?
The clerk continued speaking, ignoring their curious shrugs, "We have five, you see—all brothers of the same house. Though they all wield supreme authority, it is the eldest who provides a singular voice for the guild when one is required. Master Coco… Cocoby…? Cocobygo! …I believe."
"You go introduce yourself to the guild masters." Azami said, "I'll wait for you here."
"Alright! I'll be right back!" Pink promised before darting off to the area behind the pillars. Azami took the opportunity to step up to the desk.
"I take it you're not here to join our ranks?" the woman looked her over coldly. Azami shrugged.
"No, I was just looking for the Ossuary. I need to have something appraised." she explained. The woman pointed to another lalafell who was standing idly by one of the pillars. Azami nodded her thanks before approaching. She slipped her hand into her pocket and retrieved the ring.
"Greetings, adventurer. What brings you to Arrzaneth Ossuary?" the woman asked as she approached.
Azami held the ring out to the woman, "Some skittish lalafell asked me to have this appraised on his behalf. A big angry guy is planning on breaking all of his bones if he doesn't come up with some gil quickly."
"It is most unfortunate when such drastic measures must be taken." the woman tutted as she plucked the ring from Azami's hand and looked it over. She scarcely glanced at it before letting out a tired sigh, "And doubly so when the item in question is a fake . And such a gaudy, poorly wrought one!"
"Fake, huh." Azami crossed her arms. That was inconvenient, "Then it appears I've wasted both of our times. My apologies."
"You do know that our appraisals are not free?" the woman scolded. Azami had assumed as much, "Normally, this fee is subtracted from the agreed value. Alas, considering the negligible value of this ring, I'm afraid you would still owe us."
That little shite. Azami hoped that the appraisal wouldn't cost more than fifty gil. Otherwise she was going to have to break all the pathetic little mess's bones herself. This was what charity got her! Dragged into somebody else's debts.
As if sensing her thoughts, the woman shrugged, "However, since this is a rather unusual circumstance, we shall waive the fee this once. No need to concern yourself with the bauble—I will personally see to its disposal."
"I apologize for the inconvenience." Azami bowed to the woman.
It was that moment that Pink decided to trot back. She beamed at Azami, choosing to ignore her irritated scowl for the time being. Instead, she twirled with enthusiasm before grabbing Azami's hand and practically skipping back towards the desk.
"All that's left is for me to sign the roster! You'll help me, won't you?"
"That's why I came with you." Azami sighed, allowing herself to be dragged along in the girl's wake, "So they're fine with you not being able to read any of their... 'volumes of thaumaterlogical principle'?"
"It's fine as long as I work hard on learning my letters from here on out!"
And who was going to have to help her with that, Azami wondered with a resigned sigh. She picked up the pen and signed Pink's name in all of the places indicated to her by the surly counterwoman.
0 notes
Text
Hooked
introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii
ch. liii - sugar daddy
<< previous | masterlist | next >>
??? × reader, ateez × reader
A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?
Dinner couldn't have gone better. Sure, Seonghwa's dad mostly ignored you, only throwing questions here and there to avoid Seonghwa's mom nagging at him. But he was mostly preoccupied with his phone. At one point, while his dad was so focused on his phone, Seonghwa leaned close to you and whisper 'one of the mistresses' to you, making you giggle.
"You know, (Y/N), I don't think I've ever seen Seonghwa smiled this wide when he's around us, you must be a pretty special lady," his mom said to you with a gentle smile.
You blushed in slight embarrassment at the compliment, "I sure hope so, ma'am, because I gotta say that he's very special to me too," you said as you look up to Seonghwa.
Hearing you said that made Seonghwa bit his bottom lip to prevent him from giggling out loud. So he opted to place a hand on your thigh and squeezed it gently, letting you know how he appreciated your words. Seeing this, his mom squealed and gushed about how adorable you both are and how glad she is that he found you.
Even after the topic was changed, Seonghwa didn't seem to lift his hand off of your thigh. He had actually moved to caress it gently with his fingers. You assumed it helped him be at ease so you didn't think much about it and let him be.
As dinner progressed to dessert, you found yourself having fun bonding with his mom and sometimes his dad when he wasn't glaring at his phone or when his mom directly addressed him. You realized that his parents are actually unlike most rich parents which then would explain why Seonghwa is who he is. Maybe minus the cheating father.
One other thing you realized is that Seonghwa's hand that was on your thigh had moved significantly higher, it was resting inside your skirt, just a bit past the hem, and that he was sitting closer than before. You felt your heartbeat quicken as his fingers drew shapes on your inner thigh, exhilarated yet worried and slightly embarrassed as his parents are directly across from you two.
"Honey, there's the Kims, we should go and say hi," his mom said, tapping his dad's arm and they immediately went over to the other table after excusing themselves for one second.
As quickly as they left, Seonghwa snapped his head to you in a panicked state, "quick, take off your panties!" he said in a hurried tone. You widened your eyes at him and stared at him as if he was crazy. But he kept urging you with a panicked voice, ultimately rendering you panicked as well. Nevertheless, you did as told and slyly slip your panties off and lift them with your legs to capture them but Seonghwa beat you to the punch as he took the panties and stashed them in his pockets. Just in time as his parents return to the table. Seonghwa sent you an inconspicuous wink and that was when you realized that he has a plan.
The first time he made a move was when you were taking a sip of your water. He let his finger roamed up and slip easily to your folds, almost making you choke.
"Oh gosh, dear, are you alright?" his mom asked you. You wanted to answer but you were still coughing slightly. Seonghwa took this as an opportunity. He used his perfect-boyfriend act when he pulled your hair out of your face and dab his napkin around your mouth, perfectly covering his other hand that managed to slip deep into your hole, almost making you choke again.
First strike.
His next move was when he was seemingly very much absorbed in a conversation about business with his parents, leaving you out of the conversation but still paying attention to you. Though his hand was still under your skirt, it remained stagnant and still.
But out of nowhere, as he talked about acquisition and mergers, his fingers pinched your clit rather harshly. You jolted up in surprise as your legs clamped shut, trapping Seonghwa's hand inside.
Again, his mom asked whether or not you were okay, and you tried your best to convinced her that you are despite Seonghwa's fingers' constant teasing. When Seonghwa turned around to look at you, you saw the smug smirk on his face and by God you never wanted to smack someone more.
Second strike.
The last strike was when you all were having dessert and Seonghwa pretended to have dropped his fork. You were on edge since he had taken his hand out for a while and the slick in your pussy had started to bother you.
He ducked down under the table just as you shifted the position of your legs. He saw his, literal, opening and slotted his face between your legs and licked a stripe up your pussy. Thank God for the table cloth or else you both would've been kicked out of the restaurant for sure.
You let out a sharp squeak which was thankfully held back a little because you had your mouth close.
Just as quickly as you reacted to him, Seonghwa also quickly returned to his position, playing the act of a perfect, doting boyfriend. "Baby, you okay? You don't look well," he made a fuss by pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and cheeks which were red because you've been blushing out of embarrassment and arousal.
"You know what, Seonghwa, sweetie, you should really take (Y/N) here home, take care of her, alright?" his mom said.
You smiled sheepishly at her and also to Seonghwa's dad, "I'm so sorry I had to cut things short," you told them. Seonghwa's mom laughed wholeheartedly at you as she waved her hands around, "it's no problem at all, darling. Besides, we're going to meet each other again soon, I'm going to make sure Seonghwa bring you to family dinner, okay?" she smiled warmly at you. Even his dad managed to look up at you and smiled genuinely.
After bidding your goodbyes to both of them, Seonghwa took your hand in his and immediately ran out to get his car from the valet. As you both waited, you grip on the lapel of his blazer and tugged him close to you, "how fucking dare you," you muttered lowly.
Seonghwa smirked and brushed his lips against the skin of your cheek, "can't help it baby, you looked so damn good and knowing I prettied you up made me... hungry," he growled. His lips moved to your ear to inconspicuously nibble on your earlobe, "who's your daddy?"
Your legs almost wobbled at that. If Seonghwa hadn't had his arm around you, you sure would've dropped to the ground and let him take you then and there.
But thankfully the car came right at that moment and to say you bolted yourself into the car.
Once Seonghwa got onto the driver's seat, he gripped onto your arm and stared at you intently, "you are not to touch yourself, you got me?" he stated. You stammered, you wanted to protest but he only stared at you, unmoving.
You jutted your lips and crossed your arms in protest, staring forward in disappointment. Much to your surprise, Seonghwa smacked your thigh hard enough to make it red, "I said, you got me?" he stressed each word, indicating that he needed verbal confirmation from you. "y-yes, I understand, I won't touch myself," you whimpered.
Satisfied, Seonghwa rubbed the reddened spot on your thigh and began driving.
Whilst Seonghwa was focused on driving, an idea popped into your head. A quite dangerous one at that. But you really wanted to get back at him for playing with you in front of his parents. You didn't know what made you decide on going forth, but you were sure your horniness had a large play.
Quickly getting yourself to work, you had somehow managed to unzip Seonghwa's pants and whip his hardening dick out. You licked your lips at the sight, your hand began stroking him as the other settled on his thigh in order to stabilize yourself.
Quickly getting yourself to work, you had somehow managed to unzip Seonghwa's pants and whip his hardening dick out. You licked your lips at the sight, your hand began stroking him as the other settled on his thigh in order to stabilize yourself.
"What are you-" Seonghwa's words were cut off with his own moan as you delved down to take his dick deep in your mouth. Hearing him moaned out only egged you to go on further.
You deepthroated Seonghwa as best as you could, sucking him whilst letting your hand play with his balls.
"B-baby, you ca-an't do this," he said through gritted teeth. You peered up only to see his eyes glued to the road, but his hands were gripping onto the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. You took him out of your mouth to pump him in with your hand instead, you rested your head on his thighs and looked up to him with a pout on your face, "you said I couldn't play with myself, well I'm not! I'm playing with you, you and your pretty cock," you proceeded to lick along the vein of his dick.
Seonghwa groaned as his resolve started to wither away. Even whilst preoccupied with Seonghwa's dick, you could feel that he was speeding to go back.
With every suck or pump, Seonghwa's dick hardened and along with that, his need to cum. It was a gamble, sure, but you couldn't help yourself. It was a sudden automatic urge to tease Seonghwa. Maybe you could blame it on hanging out with Wooyoung too much.
You continued bobbing your head on Seonghwa's cock as quickly as you can. You started something and you wanted to make sure that you're going to finish. And by finish you meant him cumming down your throat.
Due to being so focused on Seonghwa's dick, you hadn't realized that you both had arrived at the frat. The car came to a full stop in front of the frat and was put in park.
Just as you were about to release Seonghwa from your mouth, Seonghwa held your neck and groaned, "you best keep your head there until I cum so deep down your throat that you'd choke," he ordered.
You happily obliged and returned to work him. Seonghwa's demand to make him cum only encourage you. You'd bob your head on him, fondle his balls, graze your teeth against his tip, and squeeze his dick. It proved to be very effective as Seonghwa threw his head back and began to thrust his own hips up to your mouth, wanting more.
His lips began calling out your name in moans. You could imagine his eyes screwed shut as he desperately chased his release.
It wasn't until two, three more deepthroating that he came in your mouth. You could feel his dick twitched in your mouth as his warm cum trickle down your throat. The feeling made you moan and the vibration of your voice shot up from his dick to his spine, making him shudder.
You managed to swallow all of him clean, not leaving a single drop out. After you detached yourself from his dick, you could feel that he was about to pull you in for a kiss. But you expertly evaded him and dart out of his car into the frat instead.
"Hey- wait!" Seonghwa called out, cursing and immediately shoving his dick back into the pants and lock the car to follow after you.
When you walked into the frat, you ran past San and Jongho who were on the couch, watching something on the tv. You ran straight to the staircase and aim for Seonghwa and Hongjoong's bedroom.
Maybe it was because you weren't exactly running away from him, or maybe he was really just that fast, but he caught up to you mid-step and heave you up onto his shoulder wordlessly. He sent a spank onto your ass, making you yelp loudly. The sound of your voice didn't break his focus as he immediately entered your room.
As soon as he put you down on the floor, he gripped onto your chin and kissed you roughly.
"Strip naked for me," he said against your lips before letting you go. The serious tone in his voice made you hurriedly tug all of your clothes off and simply shove them to the side somewhere.
When you finally looked up, you saw Seonghwa on your bed, naked with his cock in his hand. He motioned for you to come to him with one hand while his other one was sliding up and down his slick shaft. The sight was so arousing, you could've sworn your juice leaked out of you.
"Ride me," he ordered as soon as you arrived next to the bed. You immediately obliged, throwing a leg over him and immediately slip his dick inside your pussy. Both of you moaned loudly when you felt how he filled you up and he felt how warm you are.
"Fucking move baby, I need you so bad," Seonghwa moaned out. His hips rolled up against yours and immediately you took the hint. You anchored yourself on his chest and began thrusting yourself up and down his dick. You threw your head back at the feeling and let out a long moan.
Not wanting you to work by yourself, Seonghwa gripped your hips and began meeting your thrusts. The sudden powerful hit from his hips made your arms weak and you almost toppled over onto his body.
"H-Hwa, you feel so good," you moaned out, moving your hips faster on him. Seonghwa reached a hand up to your breast and began squeezing and playing with your nipple, adding to the pleasure even more. "You feel even better, baby," he said, tongue licking his bottom lip.
The sight of his tongue was enough to drove you almost mad. You leaned forward and crash your lips to his, locking you both in a desperate kiss all the while your hips move as quickly as it could, not minding the fact that you might be sore tomorrow. Tonight, you only thought about Seonghwa fucking you.
Both of you moved in tandem with each other. Seonghwa held you as close as he could, a hand wrapped around your waist and another grabbing onto your ass, squeezing the flesh hard. Meanwhile, you were busy exploring Seonghwa's mouth with your tongue, his own tongue would even fight you for dominance.
Maybe it was because Seonghwa had been teasing you all through dinner, but you felt yourself so close to the edge. Your pussy clenched on his dick, signalling him of your impending climax.
As if to tell you to cum, Seonghwa planted his feet on your bed and began thrusting at a pace much quicker than yours. Because you were on top of him, you could feel him thrusting deep in you, rubbing onto your sweet spot continuously until you froze and came on top of him. His lips prevented you from moaning too loud which was a shame but you couldn't really protest.
It took Seonghwa a couple more thrust into your clenching pussy before he completely emptied himself in you. Both of your cum mixing and trailing down your thighs onto his and even dropping onto the bed.
The once ferocious kiss changed to a romantic one as Seonghwa nibbled onto your bottom lip sweetly. You could feel him smile against your own lips.
"You did great, baby," he said, letting your body drop down fully on top of him. When he was about to slip out of you, you whined in protest and hugged him tightly like a koala. Seonghwa chuckled at your adorableness, he carded a hand through your hair sweetly and peck your forehead, "we gotta clean up, baby, you've got cum in you and everywhere else," he said.
You whined and buried your face onto the crook of his neck in protest, "do that tomorrow, I like having you inside me," you pouted. Though his instinct told him to remove you and clean up, he couldn't say no to you. He knew he has no power if it comes to anything concerning you.
So he defeatedly sighed and somehow covered both of your bodies with your blanket. He made sure that you were in a comfortable position before closing his own eyes to get some rest.
The last thing you heard was him telling you goodnight and then a soft peck landed on your forehead before you drifted off to dreamland.
taglist :
@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @sanraes @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13 @aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @em0yunho @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream @elijahbabyb @taejichafe @alliecoady98 @rdiamondbts2727 @hakuna-matata-ya @ohmy-fandoms @spacebikerateez @stray-bi-kids @imaaroy @fashi0nablee @rindomo @violetwinters
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez smut#ateez au#ateez social media au#ateez smau#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop smut#kpop au#kpop social media au#kpop smau#ateez scenario#ateez imagine#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#smt social media au#smt smut#smt smau#seonghwa smut#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa
322 notes
·
View notes
Text
July 2nd - Daniel Ricciardo
Based on New Year's Day by Taylor Swift and this request by @spikejonzed
Fluffly, mentions of sex, banter, nothing graphic.
BTW, I don't know how I've never paid attention to this song, it's so so beautiful and honest. I've thought about this concept before though: the "Sunday afternoon effect", when all the excitement of the weekend wears off and you're just hanging out with your friends, laughing about silly stuff, or cleaning up the house after the party. The thing is, the friends that stay till then are the ones you wanna hold on to, and the same goes for lovers. I feel kind of bad... well not BAD but you know, must be hard... when you're famous and rich, to recognize the good ones from the beginning before you give yourself too much away and it's too late.
To be honest with you guys, I think Daniel must feel a bit lonely sometimes. We all do, but to think that people are only interested in you for your fame and money must be tough... something you worked so hard, that you keep dedicating your life to, to think that that thing is the reason for your heartbreak, to your loneliness... It's a two-edged sword, isn't it? Anyway, I wrote this little something with Daniel in mind, hope you guys like it. Hope he finds someone to be like this someday. Hell, hope I find someone to be like this someday. I think everyone deserves that.
Daniel woke up in his bed, no shoes, but jeans and party shirt still on. The light coming through the windows, shining directly on his face, threatening to make his headache even worse. He let out a groan and turned to the side. There's someone on his bed with him. Shit. He just remembered. Last night was the first time he was introducing (y/n) to his friends. His birthday "small get together" (or at least that's what it was supposed to be) was the perfect opportunity for testing the waters and giving the "next step" without making too much fuss about it, after all, they've only been going out for a couple months and with his tight schedule it meant a lot of facetime calls and weekends, but almost no weekdays and routine stuff.
Yet, he was absolutely smitten with her, she was fun and easygoing, passionate about her own work and friends, but still caring and interested in him. They had amazing chemistry, mind-blowing even. But Daniel had lived enough to know that hanging out with someone on the weekends and knowing their best side was one thing, living through daily and mundane stuff was a completely different thing. Where this could go was still a mystery to him and he didn't want to raise too many expectations before he was sure. Still, she looked so beautiful sleeping, a true vision. He tried to remember if something had happened last night, but judging by his clothes still on, and hers as well, he guessed not. As if on cue, she smiled, with her eyes still closed.
"Stop being creepy" she said smiling. "I can feel you watching me sleep"
"You're not even asleep anymore" he smiled and she opened her eyes. He was taken back by her eyes staring directly into his.
"Still creepy though" she laughed, getting closer to him. He held her and they stayed like that for a while.
"Are you ok?" he asked her.
"What do you mean?
"Aren't you hungover, or sick?" he asked again and she laughed.
"Not at all. I have this really weird superpower, you know, I don't get hungover. Ever, actually" she laughed.
"I don't believe you. I have the headache"
"No, it's true. We did drink a lot yesterday, though" she commented.
"Yeah, well, welcome to having Australian friends. No such thing as light drinking with those guys" he laughed but grimaced at the pain in his brain.
"I'll get you something"
"Huh?"
"For the pain" she explained getting up from the bed.
After a while she returned with a pill and a glass of water, passing them to him.
"Thank you, baby" he took the glass, finishing it. "Come back to bed now"
"Your house... like, I'm not even sure if I should tell you to take a look or just pack your essentials and abandon it" she smiled.
"Uhh" he groaned. "I'll call someone later"
"Like a constructor with a wrecking ball?" she laughed.
"It can't be that bad"
"It's bad" she started. "But we can manage it" He looked at her intrigued. "After a shower" she pulled his hand. "Join me?"
"If I ever say no to that question, just put me in an asylum" he said. "I need a kiss though, as motivation" he smirked.
"Noo... I have morning breath"
"What? Me too" he said pulling her down and kissing her anyway. "Uh, no. You're right. Yours is worst" he said laughing while getting up and walking into the bathroom.
"Asshole!" she laughed following him.
They stripped and got into the shower, taking turns in letting the water run through their bodies.
"Come here" Daniel said, putting some body wash in his hands and spreading them over (y/n) body.
"Hum... this feels nice" she said.
"You're so beautiful" he said kissing her shoulder.
"You're so wasted" she laughed lightly.
"Hey! I'm sober. I'm just too tired. Give me a couple hours to recover, and I'll claim my birthday privileges"
"Birthday privileges? It's not even your birthday anymore" she laughed.
"Okay, but first, it's the weekend of, and second, I didn't get any time alone with you yesterday"
"Fair. And what will be your requests, may I ask?" she asked teasingly.
"Humm... you're so creative" he said kissing her. "I'm sure we'll think of something"
They finished the shower after a while, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable silence.
"Did anyone crashed here?" (y/n) asked when they were stepping out of the shower.
"I have no idea" Daniel answered. "I just remembered going to take a nap and waking up this morning. Shit, we didn't... did we?" (y/n) laughed out loud at that.
"Wow! Really, Dan?"
"We did not. I would've remembered"
"Good save. Such a gentleman" she laughed.
"I drank way too much. Sorry. Don't be mad"
"It's fine. I'm messing with you, I don't remember anything either. To be honest, I don't even remember joining you on your 'nap'" she said making air quotes.
"We're the worst hosts" he said getting out of the bathroom and going into the closet to get some clothes.
(y/n)'s heart swelled at the thought of hosting a party with Daniel. There was something so intimate about that statement, so homey.
"You want a shirt?" Daniel asked from the other room, waking her up from her daydream.
"Yeah, sure" she took the shirt, some underwear, and some sweats. Then brushed her wet hair and looked in the mirror. Not a trace of makeup left. She sighed thinking about how falling into a routine with Daniel meant letting the barriers down.
"Alright, snap out of it" she said to herself, getting out of the bathroom and walking outside, to the living room where Daniel was standing rubbing his neck and looking around.
"This is bad" he said when he saw her joining him. There were empty beer bottles and cups all around the living room and balcony, pizza boxes (with half-eaten slices left behind) in the coffee table, party decorations hanging from the ceiling, and the kitchen was even worse, with liquid spilled on the ground and bottles everywhere. There was glitter all over the floor and the couch - someone had brought some of those party poppers, which looked so much fun yesterday, but no so much now. But the best part was the polaroids, left all over the house with the craziest poses.
"Pack your stuff, we're deserting this goddam hellhole" he said and she knew he was joking, he said that about everywhere, but she still shook her head and rolled her eyes, picking a polaroid photo from the ground.
"Everyone had so much fun" she showed it to him. "I loved meeting your friends"
He took the photo from her hand, it was one where (y/n) was sitting on the couch with two of his buddies from Australia, making funny faces while holding cups. He remembered the moment because he was the one who took the photo.
"How's the headache?" she asked him.
"Almost gone"
"Good. So you don't have an excuse. Move your ass, where are the trash bags?" she laughed going into the kitchen.
"Hey! That was very sneak of you" he laughed but followed her anyway.
They spent the next hour collecting bottles, vacuuming glitter, and just cleaning the whole house. Daniel complained the whole time, but in truth, he was very glad to have her there. Sure, he could just ignore the whole mess and hire someone on Monday to clean everything (he probably would still do that anyway, for the heavy cleaning like bathrooms), but it was really nice of her to just stick around, seeming unbothered by the housework. When she finished tying the last trash bag and putting it on the entry hallway she flopped on the couch besides Daniel, who had called it a day some good 10 minutes ago.
"Done?" he asked her.
"I feel like punching you for asking me that" she answered playing annoyed. He lifted his hand in defense.
"What? I did my part!"
"Men" she shook her head. "I'm surprised you haven't complained about being hungry yet"
"Well, I'm starving! Was just waiting to suggest going out, or ordering in"
"Ordering in, please. I don't want to get off this couch any time soon"
Daniel got his phone out to order some food. It was almost noon, so he thought about something like pasta, some carbs would be nice right now. Then he felt (y/n)'s head drop on his shoulder, her hand caressing his arm. It was such a sweet gesture, so understated, he just stopped what he was doing and looked at her.
"What?" she looked at him.
"I'm really glad you're here. Thank you"
"It's nothing" she smiled.
"I don't mean the cleaning. Well, that too. But just, thank you for being you and wanting to hang out with me, you know, after the party"
"I'll always wanna hang out with you, partying or cleaning bottles" she said and leaned in to kiss him. "Happy birthday old man" this made him smile through the kiss.
"Thank you, young lady" he said still smiling. "Let's feed you now, yeah?"
"Please! Let's get some carbs on this house!" she smile.
"Hey, guys!" (y/n) and Daniel looked up to see Luke, one of Daniel's buddies walking out of the guest bedroom.
"Dude! I didn't know you were here" Daniel laughed.
"Yeah, just woke up. Definitely wasn't hiding in the bedroom waiting for the cleaning end to get out" he grinned making (y/n) and Daniel laugh.
"You know what? Just for that, you're going downstairs to pick up the food when it gets here, and taking out the trash!" (y/n) teased him, tossing a pillow from the couch at him.
Daniel just observed while his friend and his girlfriend joked and laughed. He thought about how right now he was enjoying a feeling of contempt that wasn't really natural or much appreciated by professional athletes, but this time felt right to indulge in it. He felt safe like someone's got him, finally. He took (y/n) hand on his and squeezed it three times, he knew this was already a good thing, something to last. She looked at him, she knew exactly what he meant.
#Daniel Ricciardo#Daniel Ricciardo fic#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo oneshot
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
I am once again apologising for what you're about to go through.
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 10
You wipe down the counter. It was quiet today, not many customers. Everyone was at home waiting for the race to begin. Today was the fourth race of the season. If Zemo won today, he would tie with Stark.
Zemo... you hadn't gone back. You hadn't called him, text him, seen him. You had returned to work, telling your boss things had changed. He welcomed you back, but he looked at you with pity sometimes.
He was currently standing in the doorway behind you, watching you. The race would be starting soon, he had the TV set up in his office, hoping you would come watch it with him. He would happily close up shop for this. For you.
You had worked at The Redwing for several years, a loyal worker to him. You would good with the people, you made wonderful coffee, sometimes bringing s cup to his office, and you knew how to make work fun.
You had this amazing opportunity, then something unexpected came out of the blue and ruined it.
You could do so much better than this little job. He wanted that for you. Plus, he was very much aware, just by the way you had been these past few days, that you were utterly in love with his favourite racer.
He saw the images from the last race. That photo of you and Zemo kissing after his win was all over the place.
Behind him, the commentators are talking about Zemo's win. He flashed up on the screen, a replay of his car gliding over the line. The moment Stark lost to him.
You put away some clean cups, stacking them gently by the machine. You liked having a tidy working area. You knew where everything was, getting what you needed for an order was second nature.
You swung a towel over your shoulder and decided to organise the new tea flavours that came in. Cherry blossom tea had just come in, apparently it was nice. As the shop was empty, you could make one. You grabbed a tea bag from the box and put the box back on the shelf. Your boss watches you go about making your drink.
"Are you going to watch the race with me?"
You pick up your mug and look at him, shaking your head softly. He sighs and comes over to you. He doesn't have to say anything as you begin to cry. He hugs you.
"Why didn't you go?"
"What would I have said?"
"Anything. You don't believe he did it, do you?"
You shake your head.
"Then why are you here with me when you can be there with him? I remember the accident, you know. Saw it on TV back then. There is no way Helmut Zemo would sabotage a race like that."
"What was I suppose to do?" You look up at him and watch as he grabs a napkin to hand to you. You wipe your tears gently.
"You were suppose to go. I'm suppose to be seeing you on screen today, supporting him. You're suppose to be there when he wins today," he speaks softly.
"It's too late."
"You could still go down there. You'll miss the race, but you'll be there."
You shake your head.
"He told me, he said if I still loved him I should be there at the race. If I don't go, he'll leave me alone. I think this is best."
"Now look here, you're a darling and I adore you, but my God, you're a silly liar. You're so in love with him it hurts. You're just torturing yourself by being here."
You wipe at your eyes gently, sipping the tea. It was nice. Zemo would like it.
You sigh and put the cup down.
"You go watch the race. Just... let me knows if he wins."
He looks at you with those pity filled eyes again. When you don't say any more, he leaves, heading back into the office. He keeps the door open a crack.
You stand there. No customers in sight. You feel absolutely awful.
Zemo sits outside by his car. Sam, Bucky, and Sam's sister Sarah, were all there with him. Zemo hadn't said a word to them since he arrived. Bucky had tried to talk to him about what happened, but he didn't get a response.
You weren't here. You didn't come.
He still held onto hope you would make a last minute appearance, that maybe you were right outside, but you weren't. He knew deep down you weren't coming.
You were afraid. He couldn't blame you, but he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would believe him. Still, he should have expected this.
Sam and Bucky glance at each other.
"Just leave him be. He'll focus up for the race," Sam said, glancing at Zemo.
Bucky looked across the way.
Stark and his little witch were smooching for the cameras. Behind them, Pepper Potts. Bucky never understood how Pepper could deal with Tony. After everything.
"I'll kill him."
"Bucky, don't."
Sarah pulls Bucky back and tried to get him to calm down. Sam, watches Stark for a lite while longer. He felt sick to the stomach just looking at them.
The racers were called to the line.
You finished up the last if the tea and put the cup to the side. You would take it up to the kitchen shortly. You refilled the water tank and reorganised the spoons for the third time that morning.
The door opened. A young woman enters, a man and two children behind her. You put on your hospitality smile and turn to her.
"Welcome, are you sitting in with us or taking out today?"
The woman smiles, though a lite awkwardly.
"Actually, I am looking for Y/N," she says softly. Her accent, it sounded so much like his.
"That would be me, what I can I do for you?"
She glances at the man she came in with, who nods at her. Licking her lip quickly, she turns back to you and speaks.
"My name is Wanda Maximoff, six years ago my brother died in a horrible accident. I know you have been made aware of this incident. I came here to tell you that I testified about what happened, but no one believed me. They took Stark's word against mine. Helmut Zemo did not kill my brother."
You stare at her.
"You're probably wondering how I know about you and how I come to be here. Stephen Strange is a racer too. Stark had called him a few nights ago. Apparently Zemo had paid him a visit and caused quite a fuss."
"Helmut went to Stark?"
"Yes. Over you. I don't know all the details, only what Strange had told me. I thought it best I come to you and tell you what I know. My brother died in an accident. He was not killed by Zemo."
You hear the low sound of engine revving from the office. The race was about to start.
Wanda watches as you dart into the office quickly. She smiles softly and leaves with her family.
Your boss looks up as you enter. He smiles at you and waves you over. You sit on his desk and watch the TV.
That beautiful purple car appears on screen. You almost want to cry again as you see Zemo sitting there.
You would close your eyes and listen to that sound, even if it is through the television, but you didn't want to look away for a second. That handsome man on the screen, you loved him beyond belief.
Then they were off.
Your breath caught in your throat. You tended up. Your boss placed a hand on your arm, reminding you to breathe. You couldn't. Stark and Zemo were neck on neck. If he won today, he would tie with Stark.
And you would go to him to be there for the final race.
The cars sped around the first corner. You had long since blocked out the commentator. The only sound you could hear was those engines.
Zemo's car glides down the track.
Stark is a hair width away from him. They are so close they could collide any moment, but they don't. Both of them are very skilled and talented drivers. They were born to do this.
They reach the second bend.
You grab your boss's hand, needing something to hold onto. Those two cars are so far ahead from everyone else.
You're filled with anxiety. Everything feels too much.
The third bend.
It all happens so quickly. In the blink of an eye. You're not even sure what had happened.
You weren't even aware you were screaming until your boss had his arms around you. He was so quick to try and tear your gaze away from the screen.
Zemo's car collided into the barrier. It was up in flames. Moments later there was an explosion.
It's just like that day. Six years ago.
You cling to your boss, crying into his shirt. He scrambles with one hand to grab the remote and turn it off.
You had seen enough.
The office fills with your cries. Your agony filled screams are enough to break anyone's heart. What the Hell just happened?
He didn't turn.
He didn't make it around the bend.
And now?
Your boss holds you for a while longer. It's all he can do to help you right now.
At the racetrack, there is chaos. Sam and Bucky were booking it down the sidelines, desperate to reach that corner. Stark zoomed past them going at the speed of light. He would soon cross the finish line and win his third victory, successfully beating Zemo at this point.
Sirens go off in every direction. All ambulances are heading the same way.
An eerie silence falls over the crowd, even after Stark finishes.
Sarah grabs her phone. She has to make a call.
Sam and Bucky manage to reach the wreck. The car is totalled into a burning pit. They can't make heads or tails of what's happening.
And where was Zemo?
This isn't how things were suppose to go.
@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief @breadsquash
230 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mxtedlogan
ted is nonbinary coded
ewagan
tell me how all this...
medeadea
hyperfixation station
depressdemons
Jess' Blog
qveenavery-blog
&&.