#this was a jesting thing I was going to animate it and ran out of motivation
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itsahotminuteinbetween · 6 months ago
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how it feels posting things about the dca sometimes
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eclecticqueennerd · 2 years ago
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Game Night
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It was one of those rare occasions where there wasn’t anything to do. No leads to follow up on, no supes to terrorize, and no mayhem to cause. Due to the early morning mission, the group decided to stay in and to pass the time, play a board game, Pictionary to be exact. You broke off into teams, boys, which consisted of MM, Frenchie, and Butcher, versus girls; Y/n, Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie. It was a rule that everyone had to grab a drink and the losing team had to take a drink after each round. Sangria was the poison of choice for the girls’ team, vodka the choice for the guys. The guys allowed the girls team to roll the dice first, your figurine landed on yellow after rolling a 6.
“Okay so the category is Person/ Place/ Animal.” You look at both options on the card, you choose Lighthouse, and hand it to Butcher, who was first to draw for the guys team. “Yellow on the blue side.”
“I don’t know how I’m gonna draw that, but I’m ready.” Butcher throws the card in the discard pile. Frenchie grabs the sand timer and begins countdown,
“Start in 3…2…1.” You and Butcher begin drawing and the hideout is filled with shouts, attempting to guess what the person on their team is drawing. Just before the sand in the timer ran out, you added a small square with a circle towards the bottom of the large rectangle you drew.
“A LIGHTHOUSE!” Hughie screamed. You point your finger towards the man and exclaimed,
“YES!” The girls, and Hughie, started cheering while the boys were grumbling, Butcher throwing the pencil down on the table so hard it bounced and flew away.
“I don’t know how you lot didn’t get that. It was easy.” Butcher chided.
“Butcher, you made shapes! How could we guess from shapes?” MM shot back. Butcher reached forward and grabbed the pad of paper from in front of you,
“Y/n drew boxes too and their team was able to guess it!”
“I guess we’re just better.” You jested. You reached over to Butcher and stroked his bearded cheek. The rage in Butchers eyes subsided a little bit, replaced with an adoring twinkle. “Don’t worry, you guys will catch up. But for now, drink up… loser.” You leaned forward and snatched the pad of paper away from Butcher, not missing the look he just gave you. Butcher narrowed his eyes and took a shot of vodka. He then spoke,
“Oh, it’s on.”
The next few rounds, the girls’ team dominated the boys, making it a quarter of the way around the board. As time went on, the guy’s team became frustrated with each other whereas the girl’s team, and Hughie, were celebrating by taking sips of their wine.
“Cattle drive!” Butcher shouts. MM looks up from his drawing.
“Hell yeah man lets fuckin GO!” The guys team all congratulated themselves on the hard work they just accomplished. They moved their figurine onto the board.
“Finally, on the board. It’s over for you lot now.” Butcher shot you a look. You put the edge of the wineglass to your lips and began sipping. Butcher reached out and tilted the bottom of the glass upwards, making you chug the rest of your sangria before it spilled on you. “There you go love.”
“We’re supposed to drink, not chug it!”
“We need you guys on the same level as drunk as us love.”
“Not our fault that you chose vodka of all things.”
From that point on, the girls team began losing. You’d have a few wins here and there, but the guys would always come back to steal that victory away from you. It wasn’t until you were now three-quarters of the way through the board and the guys were a few spaces away from victory.
It was you against Butcher again, and the task was to draw a pizza delivery person. The timer started and you were able to draw a stick figure, but with all the wine you’ve had to drink, even that was a difficult mission to accomplish. Before you could finish your drawing,
“Pizza man!” Frenchie shouts. The girls team turned to look at the guys and Butcher was dealing out high fives. They moved their figurine into the victory slot.
“How?” Annie exclaims, she reaches forward and yanks the pad of paper out of Butchers hand. Your group inspects the drawing.
“You literally just drew a person in a hat! How the fuck did you get that?” The guys shrugged. “You’re cheating! You guys didn’t nearly have as much to drink as we did!”
“Do you not remember how you kicked our asses in the beginning and how many shots we took?” Frenchie shouted back, overjoyed that they’d won. At this point, Annie stood up from her spot at the table, frustration getting to her. “No! They need to go back a few spaces. They’re cheating!” Hughie stood up and grasped Annies shoulders.
“It’s okay Annie. It’s just a game.” The two went off into their room to calm down. Kimiko and Frenchie giggled to each other. You and Butcher walked into your bedroom to get ready for bed while MM cleaned up the game, his OCD not standing for the clutter.
Swapping out your day clothes for PJ’s, Butcher approached you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Good game love.” You giggled, the wine and his scent causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
“Thanks, congrats on winning. You had one hell of a comeback.” The two of you crawled into bed and you laid your head on his bare chest. Butcher placed a kiss on the crown of your head.
“Thanks love. I knew we were going to win.”
“Oh? How so?” You giggled again.
“When we stopped halfway through for a bathroom break, I switched out the vodka for water.” You looked up to him in shock, Butchers face plastered with a shit eating grin.
“BILLY!”
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herobrinezombiealso · 1 month ago
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A cloned memory
Oh, to go back to the morning where everything was fine, that cool winter morning. Left my chamber and enjoyed a lavish breakfast with you all. Jests at one another for the coming day ahead. A sausage slipping from my plate and pounced on by one of Buttercup's wargs before it hit the floor. This world may have been a rough one to land on, but this home was a sanctuary among the hell.
We left the table to go complete our daily tasks, Inko to tinker with his mechs, Vortex to further train his already impeccable pistol aim, Jutely restocking the kitchen before going to her artworks, Teddy & Buttercup training the colony animals, and Quiver to do whatever it was he does. My friends, slaving to maintain our home and safety. And then me, to go and study the inexplicable. The living dead, an enigma we learned to replicate. The flesh creatures from below, unlike anything we'd seen before here. The near-invisible mind stealer, it would have taken Vortex from us if it wasn't for one of Teddy's thrumbos screaming at a glimpse of it. All these things came with malice and only brought blood forth as we fought them.
Only one had yet to bring pain, an obelisk as black as the starless night, fallen from the sky 3 days before. I'd had yet to go near it, but as curiosity called, I had to relent. The imposing sculpture, as if placed on top of my vision instead of in the reality of our valley. I kept my distance initially, it felt as if dread almost radiated from its core. I think I heard Inko yell out momentarily, likely one of his mechs malfunctioning during a repair. Nearing the obelisk, its surface looked so smooth, not an imperfection or indent the human eye could see. I gingerly reached out my hand to feel it. And as my fingers hit the cold metal, it felt like lightning struck.
Everything went, every sense overloaded, pain, comfort, hot, cold, every nerve, every synapse, every neuron, everything at once. It felt as if my soul was burning, it may of been. My hand jerked back from the thing. The agony felt like it lasted eons, but I hadn't even had the time to start screaming. I collapsed in a heap, trying to recover from the shock. As my body started to obey me again, I tried to get up, I reached out, and someone grabbed my hand to help me. My eyes, still barely functioning, tried to make out who it was. As information started to flow through them, I nearly collapsed again. I looked up as they hoisted me to my feet and peered straight into my own eyes.
That's when I finally screamed, they had the same eyes, same face, same clothes, same everything down to the scar on my left hand that I got when I was 5 chasing a muffalo. It was indescribable, the confusion and terror. My face, my body, my clothes, but not me. A thousand questions ran. I met my gaze to ask at least one of the dashing thoughts and saw they were shared, but in that moment, my skin finally decided to reconnect to the rest of my nerves, and the cold, cold winter breeze hit. I had my clothes, but I did not. I watched as the realization uncannily started to dawn on my face as it dawned in my own mind. I wasn't me anymore.
As we both also realized I wouldn't stand the cold, we made our way back home. The path simultaneously familiar, but unknown. Thoughts still ran rampant, fear and confusion eating away. We neared the base and I heard my voice call out for help, my own voice chilled to barely a whisper. The others quickly gathered and for a moment, I felt like it was going to be okay, but Vortex quickly readied his charge pistol. A chilling instant passed, but felt like ages before I heard myself tell him to lower it. She tried to explain, but neither of us really knew what had happened. All everyone else saw was me and something else.
I ended up quarantined and tested for a while, but they found nothing awry. I got released back into the colony, but it doesn't feel like home anymore. The animals that had nuzzled in the evenings now recoil from my hand. I'm only seen as not her. They occasionally forget, but return at realizing the error. Only myself sees me as her, but it's cautious as I have her mind and her mine. Seeing yourself as not you never eases. I've taken up the minor tasks no one else wanted to do before retreating to our room to write before things start to deteriorate. I want to leave something that would show I'm me, not just a part of her, behind. The obelisk wasn't perfect. There's a slow droning in the back of both of our minds, it grows ever worse with each day and we both know what it means. Our mind was split and it can't last apart forever. We agreed to keep it quiet until the others start to notice, but we know what choice will need to be made, and it won't be a difficult one for them. I'm just the copy.
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ryoko-akari · 1 year ago
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Screw it headcanons I have for Owen Carvour based on my own experiences as a Lefty because it's my turn on the "project onto your hyperfixation" talking stick.
He hates round doorknobs. I'm sure he probably doesn't have nearly the same hellish experiences I do with them but they still are the least effective type of doorknob, especially for lefties because of the weird way you have to turn your hand to open them. (Seriously, I've been stuck standing infront of doors with them for 5 minutes at some occasions because they don't have clear indicators of how far you need to turn them and it's very awkward to do with your left hand. Why do they exist. Stop making them.)
I really like the headcanons that Owen isn't religious, and I'd like to add onto this. Being left handed was very stigmatized against prior to the 70s, and this was especially the case within the Church, even today. A lot of naturally born lefties I know are ambidextrous or right handed today because of family ties to the church when they were younger that forced that on them. I was told by some of the caretakers when I was about 7 that I'd "never go to heaven because I was a left handed spawn of the devil." I can see Owen being raised religious and leaving it in his adulthood and it's why he's able to use his right hand fairly well on spy missions (and subsequently DMA), or attempting to outright refuse going because of this sort of normalized treatment and stigma.
Owen absolutely has a favorite brand of ballpoint pen because it's ink dries quickly so it doesnt smudge and get all over his hand and clothes when he writes. And he absolutely carries around multiple of these pens everywhere he goes and only uses them. You might think "oh its so people can't take fingerprints or something from the pen" but no its cause he doesn't like how smeared ink looks because it feels unprofessional. After Curt figured it out I feel like he'd probably carry around a box of it in his own go bag incase Owen's ever ran out but insisted it was because he liked the grip or something. (it was such a rarity he completely forgot he had them. Guess what he finds 4 years later among his things when he decides to get back into being a spy again.)
Continuing the headcanon that Owen draws and has his own sketchbook, and at a glance it's not difficult for Curt to tell among casual clothes which ones are his and which ones are Owen's, because Owen's have a bit of a shiny sheen to the left wrist sleeve from all the graphite and charcoal that gets absorbed into it. Owen hates it because of how difficult it is to get those stains out and Curt finds it funny when he fusses about it.
Owen hates it when people point out he's left handed, even in jest. Not only because hes a spy and does not need the added attention, but because it makes him feel like a zoo animal for people to gawk at, or some strange oddity on display. The only exception to this is if it's a kid pointing this out, especially if the child is Lefty too and excited about not being the only one. He won't outwardly show it, but he melts inside because he didn't get a lot of those interactions growing up either (if at all) and if it helps a kid feel a bit more normal then so be it.
There's probably more I'll add onto this but for now have these hehe.
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kitkatyes · 2 years ago
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Whumptober 2023 Masterlist!
Yippie! (I've gone mildly insane) Anyway, I thought I might as well go through and link all my fics for whumptober in one post so see below for all those goodies
I've quite literally linked every single fic I wrote over the course of the month in here as well as their descriptions so this is a long post (I think I kinda broke Tumblr when writing this out so oops-) Just make sure you heed the tags on ao3 when you're reading- some things get a little graphic and all that jazz
But if you wanna go through the list without all my nonsense, then you can take a look at the series link below:
Without further adieu, lets begin!
Operation: Jest
There's a note on Phoenix's desk… "Meet me in my office at 14:00! Please don't set anything on fire while you're waiting… - Your Handler"
They really hoped they weren't in trouble
Prompt: Safety Net
Keep it Cool
The mission had gone mostly to plan. Phoenix was still in one piece, all they had to do now was make it back to Agency headquarters
Prompt: Thermometer
Operation: Settling Dust
All good EOD agents should know that if their mission is going exactly to plan, there's something up Phoenix really should have listened to their gut
Prompt: Debris - Start of a miniseries
Search and Rescue
"Their eyes slid shut as someone wearing a familiar uniform appeared in front of them." Mason could only watch his monitor in horror as a Zoraxis operative dragged his Agent out of the rubble
Prompt: Recording but it can also be seen as made to watch- This one is also a continuation of the previous day
Come and Go Out My Mind
Paid time off is very hard to come by at the Agency. Sure, Phoenix has had plenty of medical leave but having time to spend with themself was practically unheard of. Let's just hope they'll get to enjoy it.
Prompt: Alleyway - Part of a twoshot
So the Blade Pierces Through Me
“Hey, bossman,” The agent began, “I’m gonna take them to the hospital– the Agency’s too far away.” Phoenix fades into consciousness
Prompt: Overcrowded ER - This one is a continuation of day 6 (Search and Rescue)
Thirty-Two
Phoenix smiled sombrely as they disconnected the generator from the elevator, ignoring their Handler's pleas. Their stomach dropped as the elevator fell.
Prompt: Mistaken identity
Lost Without You
It was a routine mission: Get in, get the files, get out. With their luck, it decidedly wasn't.
Prompt: Standard - Start of another miniseries
Loose Stones
"The blearing of an alarm broke through their thoughts, jerking at the sudden noise. Looks like they didn’t have the time to think things through. Phoenix ran."
Prompt: Animal trap - Also a continuation of the prior day
Operation: Losing Sleep
Phoenix scribbled crude stick figures in the back of their notebook as they shifted uncomfortably in their seat for the 15th time that hour. Occasionally, they looked up at the small door they were tasked with surveying. God, stakeout suck
Prompt: "I'm up, I'm up!"
Steady-
Phoenix’s mouth opened in a silent scream as tears pricked the edges of their vision. The three above them conversed, the words seemingly foreign to the Agent. A hard boot kicked at them as they were lulled into a fitful state of unconsciousness.
Prompt: Feaver - Also a continuation of day 11 (Loose Stones)
Operation: With The Fishes
Great! Phoenix gets the pleasure of infiltrating a fishing boat. They can already smell the fish
Prompt: Flare
Assumptions
So what if Phoenix gets hurt during a mission? They'd be fine, they always were
Prompt: "I'm fine"
Code: Red
Phoenix smiled as they knocked at the door of their Handler's office, eagerly awaiting his somewhat sullen response. Listen, they were bored.
Prompt: "Don't go where I can't follow"
Trust..?
Phoenix felt tense, listening to the constant 'tick, tock' of the clock. They couldn't help but keep surveying the room as their fingers ran across the bandages that circled their neck.
Prompt: Touch aversion - Also a continuation of day 7 (Come and Go Out My Mind)
Decline
Artificial wind rushed past them as they felt their stomach drop, arms flailing uselessly at their sides. Through lidded eyes, Phoenix noted the shocked expression of their Handler before they landed with a loud ‘crunch’.
Alternate prompt: Aftermath of failure - continuation of day 16 (Code: Red)
Keeping You Company
The constant beep of a heart monitor echoed throughout the room. Mason found himself in the doorframe, a bundle of flowers in his arms.
Prompt: Floral bouquet
Lights Out
They were in an oddly-shaped elevator- it felt familiar. They couldn't do anything as they felt the cables snap under some unseen force, plummeting Phoenix woke up in a cold sweat
Prompt: Blanket
Rue
Mason nervously adjusted his tie as he paced the hospital's waiting room. He knew, logically, Phoenix would be okay, but he needed to see it himself.
Prompt: "Don't move" - Also a continuation of day 8 (So the Blade Pierces Through Me)
Fragmentary
Phoenix thumbed the makeshift license in their hands, eyeing the Agency-issued car. Well, they just hoped it wouldn't explode- but they didn't exactly have the best track record
Prompt: Vehicular accident - be mindful of ieytd 3 spoilers
Stalkers Tango
Phoenix hummed to themself as they bustled around their kitchen, cleaning up the mess they'd made while cooking. They got to work cleaning the dishes
Prompt: Stalking
Doing Everything so Manically
With nimble hands, they grabbed their keycard before leaving the room. If they were quick, they’d be able to escape before anyone realised anything was wrong. Let's just hope their luck won’t run out now.
Alternate prompt: Miscommunication - Continuation of day 13 (Steady-)
Still Standing in the Rain
Phoenix smiled to themself as they looked out the window, eying the bleak grey of the clouds. If they were lucky, it'd start to rain soon.
Prompt: Storm
Set the Stage Aglow
Phoenix usually loves long-term undercover missions but every now and again, it really drains them. They find themself sitting on the edge of a stage.
Prompt: Seeing double
Ember
Phoenix ran their fingers along the edge of the briefcase, occasionally flicking one of the latches. The nuclear codes were safe- they'd get it to the Agency in one piece
Prompt: Matches
Split Decision
Phoenix finally has a day off after God knows how long. They just want to watch a movie
Prompt: "You'll have to go through me"
Take it Back to the Start
Phoenix visits the place where they grew up
Prompt: Troubled past resurfacing
Split the World in Two
Following the events of project [REDACTED]
Prompt: Bridal carry - be wary of ieytd 3 spoilers and the start of a twoshot
Before I Burn Out
Phoenix needs to really stop waking up in places they don't recognise- Now that they think about it, why does their head hurt so much?
Prompt: "Take it easy" - continuation of the day before and some minor ieytd 3 spoilers
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expression-of-doubt · 5 months ago
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This week, the Capital’s roads were blocked by several fractured protest groups, of what could frankly be described as genuine eco-terorrists. All of them chanting the same inane—and frankly illiterate—message: We don’t want concrete, we want trees!
Pet-owners, unemployed parents of kindergarten-age children, street hoodlums, elderly women, and various other undesirables were out on the streets, begging someone from the fourteenth provisional caretaker government to do something about their inter-apartment courtyard, which usually serves as nothing more than a public lavatory to all the stray homeless and animals in a seven kilometre radius.
Talk about complaining to a wall! These people are so out of touch with reality that they think there’s enough funds left untouched in the yearly parks and public works budget to bankroll all the concrete needed to glaze over their little patch of highly-fertilised shrubbery.
We sent one of our journalists over there to check on the situation, and he couldn’t get there because the roads were blocked! Not only are these people a nuisance to society at large, but they’re also against the freedom of the press!
In order to get this news out to you as quickly as possible, we have signed off on an unedited “free-form” essay by one of our interns, describing the experience on their commute back from work. Reader discretion is advised, as none of what follows has been altered, proof-read, or fact-checked by the editorial staff of our agency, and may be of dubious quality, unrepresentative of the journalistic standard we otherwise aim to uphold:
“I stood there, in the middle of the six empty lanes – a main road, leading to all corners of the Capital, thinking to myself how eerie the whole situation was. Perhaps even this one led to Rome. Hours before, the streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of internal combustion – the inertia of modern living, reaching its apex as rush hour came to a head. The absence of modern life. Now, all of that has grown silent. Several kilometres of empty void, leading all the way to the horizon. What a lonely sight it is indeed to walk.
The first step off of the pavement onto the empty lanes was like a leap of faith. As if at any moment the blockade would end and traffic would be let loose, like raging rapids bursting forth from a rupturing dam. It was a forbidden kind of step, which must have been what Lance Armstrong and the other Apollo 11 astronauts felt when their took their first steps on the moon. I couldn’t help but be unnerved. Seven lanes – one for each day of the week. A domain of two-ton machines, now encroached and tread upon by a softer, more tensile creature.
The crowd was being corralled, like a herd of sheep, by a pack prairie dogs, wearing tactical vests. Their unshakable resolve bent into allowing public transport and ambulances to go through. Perhaps the loss of human life was just about the only thing they valued more highly than the nature they were afraid of losing. If you could filter out the air-horns and the chanting, you could almost hear the silence that surrounded this singular point in time.
For minutes at a time, I’d walk in any given direction, without ever really reaching anywhere. It was a road that segregated those on it from the rest of the environment that physically surrounded them. An empty country, where everyone had left, and only the sick and the impoverished remained. A land where blood ran thinner than water.
It reminded me of that dreaded evening – Christmas Eve. A solitary invitation, almost given in jest, just some days ago. All of my brothers and sisters were no longer there, now living lives abroad, carrying different foreign-sounding surnames. All the grandparents and uncles you liked so much as a child – now dead from disease; rarely old age. All that remained were the few survivors, who never cared much about the family to begin with. People you’d try not to think about, but nonetheless receive nothing but love from. Perhaps they expected you to decline politely. You had heard them saying how once one of them left, the others would soon follow. How the family had already fallen apart, with them desperately pulling it together out of nothing but sentiment. Now we all got to look at it. All the cripples, the ill, the negligent, all the corpse flies already buzzing around the room.
You’d stand there among them, eating, hoping that you’d soon be aboard the next bus home. They’d light candles, hold hands, sing songs, say a prayer. You’re much too far from that now. Just keep putting bread in your mouth. Smile coyly when someone mentions your name. Time would pass. Then, they’d mention the dead. They’d mention those who were absent. A dour look would appear on everyone’s face, and you’d be expected to assume it also. They’d given up on a life beyond that with those who were no longer here. No new memories to be had – only old ones, to keep you company.
Someone would eventually make an excuse to leave, and you’d take the opportunity to tag along. Everyone looks at you, like you’ve taken something away from them. They say they are happy, but they know they probably won’t see you again. You don’t want to feel this guilt again. You have a duty to yourself, first and foremost. Who are they to say where you should and shouldn’t be? Must your own will be something you have to fight over? What a sad life it must be, to be so dependent on others. Why bother?
Preserve gardens and playgrounds for whom? There are no children of tomorrow. No one is going to want to bring a child into this place. Might as wall pave it all with concrete, so that at least when you look at it, you will know at a glance what this town is really like. An unassuming grey-coloured animal, rotting by the side of the road, filled to the brim with the most corrupting poison.”
These green-thumbed (if not green-headed) people would have you think that these government institutions are to be used like a bat wrapped in in razor wire. A tool to get what you want, regardless of how inane that ask might be. Institutions are to be used like every other tool in rhythmic gymnastics – hoops, ropes, ribbons, balls.
Public transport services were impaired by the accumulated horde, and delayed many commuters’ rides home, after providing value to their employers and their country via taxation.
If nothing else, these protest will serve their intended social function of allowing all these charlatans to all see each other one last time before getting arrested.
With people such as these, there is no hope for the Capital. They can't even be called citizens. They like to be lied to, stolen from, they like to be ruled by some higher power. And anyone who demands actual justice falls victim to their childish behaviour.
To discuss the topic further, tonight we have in the studio with us, one of the current senior inspectors staunchly defending the Capital, and a personal friend of mine – Sudislav Orlov. Merry Christmas, Mr. Inspector – how was your winter break?
Merry Christmas. First of all, thanks for having me back. Always great to be in good company, and in front of our viewers and listeners.
Christmas was… eventful, to say the least. Seeing family is always a challenge in our field, since we spend so much time out of the year working. It’s nice to sit down and have a nice normal holiday, every once in a while, with the people who really care about you. You could say that my gift this year was finally some peace and quiet, even if it wasn’t exactly what I’d said I wanted.
Inspector, what is your take on these so called citizens terrorising the streets?
The mayor said that he has no problem with them doing the rounds, so neither do I. He even said he might well go join them tonight, but knowing him, I think he’ll quickly find that he’s a very busy man when it comes down to that sort of stuff. You don’t know how much would I like to lock him up for obstruction of justice. (he laughs)
You’ve notoriously been pretty harsh with protest groups in the past. What would you say has changed in the past years when it comes to controlling crowds like this?
Well, first of all, they’re pretty lucky I’m no longer on the beat, because if it was me and my boys back in the day, they’d all be locked up and driven off before the first car coming in could brake for the stoplights. That and those were different times. People are a lot softer nowadays, and it doesn’t take that much beating to get them off the streets. The kids coming out of university would like to go home and bitch and moan to their friends online and on their phones than go out in the streets and disrupt traffic. We see that as a success on our part in keeping the peace, and things churning smoothly.
But this protest is still ongoing, isn’t it?
It is, but you’d be shocked to see what I’m seeing. Just today they were blocking the streets again, doing their usual routine. This time, however, you could barely call it a protest. Their numbers are dwindling. Even they can’t be bothered to get off their asses and show up anymore. It’s not new and shiny anymore – now it’s a commitment, and all that’s left are the people who really care. Eventually, someone on the organisational side will set a date and time for the next one, and no one will show up. They’ll be sitting there, alone, in the middle of a busy road, shouting at the top of their lungs, about how this or that isn’t right. No one will hear them.
They might even get hurt.
We wouldn’t want that to happen, now, would we?
Of course not.
So I’ll be there, when it happens. I’ll walk up to them, and personally lead them away in a nice warm place, where we won’t have to worry about how to get back home, which road to take, or about anyone getting hurt.
I think that’s a wonderful sentiment to end off on. I’m afraid that all the time we have tonight. Thank you for your time, inspector.
The pleasure is all mine.
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> Capitalite (unregistered) says: Of course, these people are idiots who don't even understand what a growing disaster the protests are becoming! These elementalists don't realize that concreting, wherever it is, is gradually destroying them, along with nature!
> justpassingby says: The mayor should be careful with showing his support so that he doesn't get a "visit"......
> Fbone says: Such malice and vulgarity could only be born by a degenerate who doesn't even understand what all of this will lead to! This is all a government scenario! There’s no one left in this country anymore!
>Browinov says: Wonderful Orlov! The only one. Bow. History will speak for itself.
Next chapter: Late February, hopefully.
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ashley-jones · 3 years ago
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Can you write a Demi x reader where reader persuades Demi to adopt another dog? Demi was sceptical because she’s already has three (I think?) and doesn’t know if there’s space for more. (Reader likes big dogs like Australian shepherds)
Demi ends up saying yes and they go to the shelter :)
Love this idea! Though I'm going to change it up a bit! Reader brings home a stray dog that was in need of some medical attention, and Demi comes home from your to find reader with the pup! After pleading Rhea finally accepts to keep the pup!
Rhea Ripley x Reader
You Can Never Have too Many!
Warnings: None
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You where just trying to get a cup of coffee after leaving the gym, but of course bad luck just had to strike. It started pouring the moment you got your coffee, and on the way home you ran into a couple of kids beating down on a poor pup. You've never felt more anger fill your veins than at that moment.
Hell you dropped your coffee and pushed one of the kids away cursing him off, anger present across your face. The poor pup was injured and mudded over from the rain and alley way. It was malnourished and you could see it's bones through matted fur.
Once you got the kids to run off, you turned around kneeling down and very gently lifting the poor animal, who just whined and whimpered, body shaking in both fear and from the cold. This was probably one of the worst times to not have your car, but walking will have to do.
You wound up taking the pup to the vet the next day after getting an appointment. Turns out the past owners just threw the port hing out because he was too wild, and was constantly going into heat. He had a broken back paw, and scars all over him from both the kids and possible fights with other dogs while on the streets.
You knew it was bad to bring the pup in before speaking with your girlfriend about it, but you didn't want the poor thing to wind up back on the streets where it could get even more hurt or even worse killed.
Turns out the dog was a male, and it was an Australian Shepard. Once he was all brushed out and unmatted he was absolutely beautiful. Bringing him home to 3 other dogs and 2 cats could be difficult, but it didn't take much time for the others to welcome the pup in. Luna and Barry showed him all of the toys and the large beds, which the Australian immediately took advantage of despite Mazikeen and Ryuk laying there already.
You named him Miracle, because it was true miracle that you found him that day. But despite it being a miracle you stood in front of that door right now after hearing Demi's pick up pull into the drive way. You would greet her, ask her about the tour, then slowly jest over to Miracle. Demi adores animals, and always wants to bring in strays, but your place wasn't exactly as big as people would think. And with 4 animals it was pretty crowded, but you didn't wanna give up Miracle.
You worked up the courage to give off a bright smile the moment the door opened. Your girlfriend walking inside, her beautiful smile appearing letting her suit case go and accepting your body colliding with her taller frame. Demi lifted you up into her arms, wrapping her arms around your waist placing a chaste kiss against your lips. It made you smile wrapping your arms around her neck holding her close, as if you two haven't seen each other in forever.
A new bark echoed through the house which took her attention from you, instead her ocean eyes moved towards what she expected to be only 2 dogs greeting her, but a 3rd one stood alongside Berry with a cast on it's back leg, and a cone around it's neck. She lowered you moving her gaze back towards your nervous face.
"Surprise.." you whispered. Hair stood up on the back of her neck and arms, panic filling you fear of her getting angry. "Where'd you come from hm?" she questioned. She pulled her jacket off lowering and holding out her arm. Miracle seemed scared at first before stepping towards the wrestler sniffing her hand, slowly accepting her hand to smooth against his fur.
"What's his name?" she asked. "I named him Miracle.. I found him on the street a few weeks ago getting beat down by a bunch of kids.. his owners tossed him out, I couldn't leave him there.." you slowly answered.
Demi lowered her head sighing and rubbing her forehead, as if trying to come up with a decision of what to do with the dog.
"Can he stay?" you asked. Hope filled your soft voice, with a side of begging and pleading sound. Demi sighed standing up looking down at you with her intimidating eyes, but they softened. "Well you already named him, so we certainly can't let him go now can we?" she spoke.
Your eyes went big, a bright smile appearing across your features. You practically threw yourself into her arms holding onto her tightly, thanking her over and over. "Yea yea Y/N. This just means you owe me something once I get out of the shower." she teased. Kissing the side of your head she lifted her suit case and began walking upstairs, leaving you to stand by Miracle with a bright smile present, that seemed to brighten the whole house.
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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago
Note
so, SO, Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for DAYS. Can i request a Sapnap x reader smut, BUT Incubus!Sapnap. My brain is mush. Perhaps reader doesn't believe in demons etc, so they're trying to prove to themselves that these things indeed don't exist by trying to summon a demon, what type of demon? they don't know. Unfortunately(fortunately) for them, the ritual works and Sapnap is summoned. Afab reader with any pronouns, and Dom or switch Sapnap.
i literally love this idea sm. thank you for trusting me with it. [thank you to a friend of mine who helped me w some of the plot elements.] I hope you enjoy and happy reading! xx
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𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (18+)
pairing: incubus!sapnap x afab!reader
warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of an Ouija board, blood, oral (fm. receiving), smut, domination, choking
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Your fishnets clung to your legs, yet provided little protection against the nipping breeze dragging icy fingers across your skin. You rubbed the arms of your jacket, attempting to generate more warmth as your breath fogged around you. Your friends giggled and kicked at each other, hanging around their shoulders and acting drunker than they actually were. It felt like icicles picked your heart each time you faintly felt like you were enjoying yourself, all because of Him.
His words echoed in your head each time a man approached you, finding yourself nearly too suspicious to believe they wouldn’t end up like He did: cold, distant, and arrogant.
The club had been too loud, in your opinion, but you’d be damned to let one of your friends know. They were focused on finding you a squeeze to preoccupy you while you got over Him. You didn’t need a distraction, you just needed to get rid of the thought of him.
One of your friends grabbed your arm, dragging you down a portion of concrete steps and into a lower-level shop. You briefly caught sight of the neon sign above the door, LOCAL PSYCHIC blinking in bright pink piping to welcome in tourists. You scoffed to yourself as you shrugged through the beaded curtain over the door.
The shop smelled of incense and a potpourri of unfamiliar herbs. A slender woman with long black hair looked up from a magazine, gold eyeliner sparkling in the dim lighting of the store. She watched the group of you carefully as your friends went straight for the Ouija boards in the corner. As you looked over her various shelves of exotic species of crystals, you could feel her eyes burning into your shoulder.
You sighed quietly, grabbing a green hued crystal and approaching her in lieu of your group. “So, this will get rid of my bad juju if I stick it in my bra, right?” You quipped jokingly, making her smuggly grin.
She straightened up, revealing a metal band t-shirt that you couldn’t pronounce the name of, let alone knew. “Gorgeous, you’ll need a fist full of moldavite to cleanse what you’ve got going on,” she jested, voice raspy and surveying. “Give me your hand,” she stated, more than asked. You reluctantly reached for her, her boney ringers cupped your hand, rings catching the candle light beside the cash register.
“Does it say I’ll disappear mysteriously after a boating accident?” You leered, making her bite her lip.
You could practically feel her breath on your skin. She studied your palm closely, wetting her lips. “I think I have something better than moldavite, though,” she quirked before digging her nail into the center, making you hiss. She drew a bit of blood from the wound, placing a business card against the spot. The center of the card oozed the crimson color seeping from the cut. “Call this number when you get home and all your bad juju will clear, my love. Him included,” she whispered. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”
“Of course not,” you answered, your eyes locked on hers as she smiled darkly at you, almost forebodingly. You flipped the card in your hand, a number plastered on one side and “REVERSE YOUR REGRETS,” printed boldly on the other. Your eyebrow perked at her. “What, is this a demon calling card?” You quizzed almost sarcastically.
Her dark, full lips twisted up. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”
Your mouth ran dry as she smirked, fingers brushing against your own as your hand slipped from hers. You found it hard to speak on the bus ride home, or even form sentences while you were crammed between two of your friends as they all sparked chatter about their upcoming finals. One of the main reasons they bought the Ouija board was to ask a ghost to write their history and philosophy theses.
Your apartment was dark and alluringly quiet compared to the night of bright lights and ridiculous EDM you had endured for most of the night. You let your jacket slip to the floor as you switched on a lamp, washing your hands as your mind relayed what the woman from the shop had said. As you dried your hands, your eyes traveled towards the living room, the dark fabric of one of His hoodies peeking out from between the couch and the wall. You bit your tongue, anger flashing into your veins. “Even Him…” you thought, remembering what she had told you.
You grabbed your phone, slinking over to where your jacket was and fishing the card from your pocket. The red smudge of blood almost perfectly split the phone number in half. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”
“No, what kind of respectable adult believes in demons,” you grumbled to yourself, dialing the number. You turned the card over again, eyeing the words as you waited for the call to connect. Instead of ringing normally, three long dial tones sounded over your receiver, sending a shiver down your spine. Dogs of your apartment complex began to bark, sending feral noises of discomfort into the air.
An automated voice began to speak, startling you slightly. “Thank you for your call. Your sacrifice is pure and has been accepted. Congratulations.”
Sacrifice? The line went dead, your power fizzling out as well. You froze, your feet feeling as if your shoes were filled with cement. In an instant, your array of candles sparked to life, brightening the room. Your heart thundered in your chest, unsure of what was happening. Sacrifice?
You held your breath, waiting for what was to come. It seemed as if your apartment had been removed from the city outside, instead an eerie silence settled in the room, making it almost suffocating to be alone.
“Hello, dove,” a dark voice called from behind you, making you jump a foot in the air, chest wheezing from the jump scare. A man smirked at you, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at you. He dominated one of your chairs, his other hand drumming his fingers against the leather. His suit was well tailored, but he wore it rather lazily with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He wore dark nail polish, making his fingers appear longer.
His eyes trailed your body, pressing his lips together as you realized how tightly you were clutching your phone and the card. “How did you get in here?” You asked, your voice barely audible.
He stood, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He walked over to you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your breath was measured, your body drawn to him as if you were an animal in heat. “You summoned me, puppy,” he answered, voice dipping an octave before dragging the card from your fingers. Your skin burned and sparked at his touch. His smell was intoxicatingly enticing, making your mouth water.
He held the card between two fingers, his eyes locking to yours indefinitely. “You even bound yourself to me,” he noted, letting his finger pad draw across the blood stain on the card. “Little minx,” he mumbled.
You swallowed. “What are you?” You managed, words uneven and almost jumbled.
He turned slightly on his heel, circling around you slowly, fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt before snaking around the back of your throat. His thumb teased against your skin almost as if he was restraining himself from ripping you in half. “They call me Sapnap. Some might categorize me as a demon, but that seems rather exaggerated, don’t you think?” He responded. “I’m here to help you reverse your regrets.”
You inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”
He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Baby, I’m here to make you feel good again,” he divulged, the heat of his breath skimming against your neck, urging you to submit to him. "I'm here to make you forget all about Him."
In an instant you found yourself pinned beneath him, the sheets on your bed cast aside along with most of your clothes. He watched you sternly as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his collared shirt, pupils blown with lust at your hungry appearance.
Sapnap ground his hips against yours, tugging on your thighs to bring you closer to him. Your back arched slightly, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, one of his large hands palming your breast. You stifled a moan, hips bucking against him. He pressed his tongue against your navel, licking a strip against your skin before he was in your ear again. His fingers curled around your waistband. "Uh uh, dove. I wanna hear you."
He leaned back on his knees, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs as he trailed towards your core. His eyes danced up to yours, briefly gauging your reaction before slipping his finger between the skin of your hips and your lacy undergarments, tugging them down your legs. He pressed open mouth kisses to your thighs once more, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh with a restraint you had half a mind to egg on.
He hooked his arms around your thighs, burying his face where you needed him the most. Your body reacted to the pleasure of his tongue almost instantly, fighting to clamp your legs around his head as your toes curled. Sapnap was taking his time with you, eating you out as if you were his last meal, humming slightly to send vibrations against your nerve endings.
You threaded your fingers through his dark hair, rolling your hips against his mouth and muttering his name. He moved, teeth sinking into your thigh as he pressed his finger into you, making you moan incoherently. You tugged at his hair, earning a groan in pleasure as you noticed him grinding against the mattress. His lips were back on your heat as his finger curled inside of you.
He added another finger, finding your sweet spot almost as if your body had been made for him specifically. With each swirl of his tongue and his moans at the sight of you enjoying the chase of your orgasm, the more the tension began to build within you. He quickened his pace as he watched you pant, coaxing you closer to the edge.
Sapnap moved his head from side to side, flattening his tongue for more friction, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, breath hot against your core. You relinquished control of your body, letting your climax rip through your body, leaving you breathless and stunned.
He wore the devil's smile as kissed the inside of your knee, praising you heavily for heeding to his demands. "Good girl," he cooed, voice dark and drawn with lust as he moved to press his lips against your shoulder. "Such a good girl."
His lips traveled beneath your ear, nipping at the skin before pressing his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands holding your chin.
He discarded his pants, spitting in his hand and stroking himself a few times as his eyes burned into yours. He dragged you towards him, gripping onto your hips before driving himself into you. You groaned at the pressure, grinding against his hips and earning a smirk from him. "So needy. Have I not been good to you thus far?" His words dripped with a god complex you had yet to taste.
You whimpered slightly before he rolled his hips against yours. He retracted himself before slowly thrusting into you, watching with pride as you writhed for more of him. "I could kill you, you know?" He stated, thrusting into you harshly, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head.
You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. "You won't," you moaned as he set a pace, digging his hips into yours.
Sapnap's other arm moved, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing slightly, as if showing you he could do worse. "Says who?" He provoked, pressing his lips against yours, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier, deeper as he buried himself into you. "Me," you answered. He grinned deviously, pinning your knee to your chest and pounding into you, basking in your moans like they were personalized ego boasts. "I can take it," you groaned quietly, enticing him. He tightened his hold on your neck, causing your vision to blur in pleasure as heat rushed through your body, his roughness a perfect catalyst to your cardinal hunger.
"That's right, sweetheart," he grunted, eyes seeming to burn brighter with your submission. "Take it," he mirrored, his pace relentless against you as if testing your limits. He pressed his thumb in your mouth, moaning as your teeth rested against it, tongue darting out against it. You focused on his eyes, trying not to roll your own as your body ached to climax.
You could see the veins in his neck becoming more prominent and he removed his thumb only to grip your jaw in his hand, shoving his tongue into your mouth to lap at your whimpers. His hands moved to pin your forearms to the mattress beside you, his lips melding against yours as the two of you pushed each other to orgasms. You could feel his pleasure coming undone within you, finally acting as the jumping-off point for your second climax.
You panted, hurriedly attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, sighing in pleasure.
He moved to begin dressing, holding your card between his teeth as he buckled his belt around his waist. Your mind blurred in bliss, still riding your high. It didn't really bother you if he left or stayed.
He finished buttoning his shirt as you sat up on your elbows, watching him straighten his appearance. "I'll call on you soon," he stated, tucking the card with your blood on it into his breast pocket.
You quipped an eyebrow at him. "This is a normal thing now?" You questioned, the situation seeming different.
He patted his pocket to gesture to the card. "You're mine, dove. I get you whenever I want," he smirked. He rested his knee on the edge of your bed, leaning down to press his lips against yours possessively.
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goldenroutledge · 4 years ago
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hiii! could you please write 26 & 27 from list b and with rafe?
mad at you
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pairing: rafe cameron x reader
wc: 1.2k
prompt(s): “Are you angry...?” and “I wish I could be angry at you.”
a/n: of course you can babes! im sorry it took so long for me to get to it. i have a hard time writing blurbs for some reason lol. thanks so much for the request :)
rafe masterlist
© goldenroutledge , do not copy, steal, or translate my work
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The destruction left from Hurricane Agatha was going to need all the help it could get in order to have a clean island again. So of course being the kind and helpful soul you are, went around with Sarah to help some neighbors out and attempt to make yourselves useful.
You weren’t aware of where your boyfriend and his friends were, urging him to get up and help too but Rafe was a late sleeper. It was no use. You practically gave up on trying to wake him up and had been productively working for hours along with Sarah.
“Excuse me?” A younger girl called out, causing you to turn around. You looked down to see her, kneeling down to her height. “Can you help me find my stuffed animal please?” She asked shyly.
“Oh, sure! Do you remember where you left it last?”
“Our boat. But it’s all the way down there.” The girl pointed to the boat on it’s side, near a beam that had fallen during the storm.
After inspecting the scene for a moment you decided if you were careful you’d be fine. The girl had such a sad look on her face and you couldn’t turn her down. Sarah followed you, telling you she’d distract the others from panicking. The last thing you needed was to make a big scene and accidentally get electrocuted.
You put a foot out to test the sturdiness of the beam, asking the girl what her stuffed animal looked like before fully stepping on. “She’s my elephant. She has a trunk and blue ears.” She informed. You nodded, making your way onto the beam carefully and avoiding the wires wrapping around it. “Be careful of electricity!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.” You insisted confidently. You were so focused in fact, you didn’t notice your boyfriend and friends make their way towards you.
They still kept their distance, chatting amongst themselves before Kelce caught their attention. “Hey, isn’t that Y/n up there?” He pointed in your direction.
“What the hell is she doing?” Topper inquired.
Rafe ripped his sunglasses off as he watched you wobble on the beam as you tried to keep your balance. “Y/n! What the hell are you thinking? Get down!” He bellowed, Sarah rolling her eyes at his command.
“Rafe, calm down. I’m an athlete, remember?” You shrieked playfully through a laugh.
Sarah kneeled beside the little girl, telling her you’d be fine and she’d have her stuffed elephant back in no time. “There’s 14,000 volts in those wires!” One of the neighbors called out nervously.
“You’re gonna get electrocuted, Y/n. Get down!” Rafe reprimanded, Sarah covering the little girl’s ears.
“Shut up, Rafe! You’re scaring her!” She scolded her brother, referring to the worried girl shielding her eyes away from you.
“Little fried Y/n.” Kelce jested, receiving a glare from Topper to cut it out. If Rafe wasn’t so worried about you, Kelce would’ve heard it from him.
You moved closer to the boat, spotting the stuffed animal inside at the bottom. “I see her!” You announced to the girl. She clapped her hands excitedly, anticipating to see her elephant again. You also caught sight of the disconnected wires, letting out a sigh of relief to yourself that you didn’t have to worry about them. But your mind had a better idea, smirking to yourself at the thought of scaring the shit out of everyone. Rafe especially.
The rest of the people around you couldn’t peel their eyes away as they watched, before they broke out into commotion as you dramatically fell and shook in the boat. You let out a chilling scream, collapsing and letting your body go limp.
“Y/n!” Rafe yelled, voice wavering as he ran over to the boat. The boys and Sarah followed, the little girl also screaming in fear once you hit the boat. “Y/n?” He repeated, more anxiously this time, making his way as close as he could without touching the wires himself.
While your boyfriend demanded that Topper call 911, you sat up quickly, holding up the stuffed animal in victory. “Gotcha!”
Everyone’s jaws dropped, as they all sighed in relief at the fact that you were alive and unharmed. Rafe closed his quickly, face dropping as he backed away in shock. Kelce and Topper broke out into laughs, just as surprised that you would play such a prank.
“They’re disconnected!” You noted, swinging around the wires in your hand jokingly. “Rafe, you should see your face!” You teased, standing up and making your way back to the land. “Absolute sucker!”
As everyone was laughing, Rafe took off his backwards baseball cap, throwing it to the ground with force and mumbling curses under his breath.
“She got you, man.” Kelce let out through laughs. “Congrats, pussy. You’re officially her bitch.” He added. Rafe tugged at his dirty blond hair, glaring at you with a pissed off expression.
You high fived Topper and Kelce as they praised you for your bravery. “Lighten up, baby. It was just a joke.” You reminded Rafe.
“Yeah? Well it wasn’t fucking funny.” He spat, crossing his arms over his chest, turning around and walking back towards the houses.
“What’s that about?” You asked the boys at Rafe’s annoyance and pouting.
They shook their heads and shrugged. “Don’t know. He was fine earlier.” Topper stated.
“I think he’s just pissed at your little prank. That shit was funny, though.” Kelce gushed, regaining his composure from the previous laughing fit.
“I better check on him.” You sighed. “Never meant to make him mad.” You told them regretfully, following Rafe’s path.
He didn’t turn around when you called his name a time or two. You had to jog to catch up with him, jumping in front of the boy before he could go any further. “Rafe? What’s wrong?”
“What the hell were you thinking, Y/n? Why do you do scary shit like that?” He admonished.
“The wires were disconnected, Rafey. It’s fine.” You countered, reaching out to wrap your arms around his waist before he moved away from your grasp.
“Don’t ‘Rafey’ me right now. I thought you died.” He muttered angrily, just loud enough for you to hear. He looked down at the grass to avoid your eye contact, the blue eyes that you could’ve sworn were clouding with tears.
“Oh, baby.” You cooed, reaching to cup his face and make him look at you. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.” You apologized. “Are you angry...?”
He didn’t say anything else, pulling you into his bone-crushing embrace as he held on for dear life. “I wish I could be angry at you.” He spoke into your hair, letting a tear slip out and down your neck. “Please never scare me like that again, okay?”
“Ok, Rafey. I’m sorry.” You conceded.
“It’s alright, angel. I’m glad you’re okay.” He admitted, kissing your forehead but still holding you close to him.
“Aside from the gnarly bruise forming on my arm right now, yeah. I’m okay.” You quipped, relaxing in his embrace. “Totally worth it, though. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
He chuckled at your attempt to lighten the mood, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you, country club.”
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a/n: lol i like this one a lot. let’s not talk about the fact i’m still working on the valentine’s day blurbs ok thanks. also lets pretend barry didn’t give rafe the nickname country club ok i thought it’d be cute
taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @freddymaybank @annab-nana @babeyglo @sunsetholland @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneybobeczko-g @jjpouggues @j-j-may-bank
rafe taglist: @vintageobx @givetaylorherscarfbackjake @drewstarkeysbitchh
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bindi-the-skunk · 2 years ago
Text
A hairy gift
An offshoot from my story “shattered seashells” on archiveofourown
Just meant to be a laugh, nothing else
——
The day had started out as usual as any other for the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, making sure everything was in order, proper maintenance, and making lists of what was needed. The ship had chosen to park near a small town where everyone could grab whatever supplies they wanted before they headed back under the seas.
Tom had overheard at dinner the previous night that Captain Nemo had never seen an opossum before. How weird! Only in pictures, he had said, the agent had not managed to hear the conversation leading up to this revelation, but it did spark an idea.
There were some woods nearby, and he could find one and bring it back; everyone on the ship would get a kick out of it, getting to see, to them, a brand new animal!
A baby opossum would be the best bet; too tiny to cause any damage and might be docile enough to be handled, the only challenge would be dealing with mama...some birdseed or bread should help with that.
Now to get to searching!
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"Sawyer has been gone a long time," Mina noted to Nemo, who had met her in the hallway the two choosing to continue down the same way since the library and infirmary were down the adjoining hallway.
"Suppose he found something of interest, just so long as he does not bring anything dangerous, overly noisy, or of pungent odor to my ship, everything should be alright," Nemo responded mildly, more interested in finding his desired book and having a few chapters to himself before the duties of Captain called him back.
"Are you saying you are not concerned about the trouble he could very well find in one afternoon?" Mina said, smiling a bit to show her jesting.
Nemo offered a slight chuckle, stopping to look out a porthole to the outside world "best he get out his energy before we head back under; I do not expect everyone else to be as comfortable as myself with spending most of the day and night inside the ship, admiring the world from afar...I know I would go half mad if I was forced to stay on land in a locked room with nothing but a window."
The Captain acknowledged that well, everyone on the Nautilus was free to go where they wished in the safety of her many halls and rooms, to someone used to the vast open sky, air filled with the scent of pine, not salt, ground that did not move beneath their feet with the whims of the ocean, would become very claustrophobic, just as Nemo would despise being trapped on land for too long.
And he was no stranger to the dark cloud of insanity, but that was the past; the only thing that mattered now was the future.
"I see your point, but still, perhaps I should go out looking for him; I feel that he will or has gotten into a mess," Mina said, a feeling in her gut telling her that their youngest had found trouble.
"Perhaps I will go with y-what is that noise?" Nemo's head shot to the side with enough force that Mina thought the man might give himself whiplash at the sounds now thundering up the hallway.
About five crew members ran past the League members till Nemo managed to grab one by his collar, and the two started talking in their native language; Mina had half a mind to be offended at being excluded but knew that many on the ship did not know English, perhaps this was one of those men?
"He says Sawyer brought a beast upon the ship."
"How am I not surprised?"
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"Why is everyone running? She's harmless!" Tom shouted after the fleeing crew, more than a little put out that everyone seemed to hate the tiny creature nestled in his left arm that was currently gumming on a carrot Sawyer held in his free hand.
More shouting in languages Tom was both disappointed and glad he did not know the meaning of as he tried to show the baby opossum off to them.
Poor baby had been wandering alone in the woods! It was rather cute for what it was and obviously needed caring for. Oh well, once Nemo saw her, he would surely...
"What.is.that?"
Oh, here he was now!
"Hello, Captain! I found an opossum. You said you had never seen one before, so I brought one for you, isn't she cute? She's calm and just a baby," Tom said, holding out the animal slightly towards the Captain, who looked torn between being amused and annoyed.
That is when things chose to go South.
A crew member, in their hurry to get away from the creature that Sawyer was attempting to trick everyone into thinking it was cute, bumped into the agent rather harshly and gave a yell that startled said animal, who gave a squeak of fright and leaped from the young man's hands.
Where it dashed towards apparent safety by scaling up Mina's skirts who grabbed hold of the folds of her dress to try and shake the animal loose well shouting for Sawyer to take it away from her person.
Nemo managed to grab the baby opossum around its waist to try and relieve the vampiress of the offending animal, and found himself turned on and turned into the creature's next climbing post as its paws dug into the sleeve of his coat before doing another leap to reach his chest to burrow itself under his beard to hide.
The Captain could not help but feel sorry for the thing, it could not help it was positively hideous to look upon, and it was just an infant of its species, who must have gotten a little lost from its mother and happily accepted Sawyer's offer of food and attention like any baby.
It shivered and shook against Nemo's neck, scared, and Tom took it back and petted the animal to try and comfort it.
"I suggest returning it to where you found her or find someone who is better equipped with handling them" Nemo ordered/requested.
"Sorry, Captain, I thought you and the crew would like it" Tom gave a crooked nervous grin of someone who knew they had messed up, bad.
"It's alright, I appreciate your efforts, but perhaps next time you wish to show me something,tell me what it is first," Nemo said, now feeling more annoyed at how easily his crew had been scared off by what was essentially a giant mouse.
He would need to work on that one later...
The end
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nightingaelic · 4 years ago
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POODLES IN THE WASTELAND
i jest I jest
But 👀
What about pets? Either ones companions would have or a very uncommon one that someone wouldn’t think was a good pet, BUT IS. Deathclaws you can ride like a pony, mole rats that want belly rubs, cazadore’s as cattier pigeons! What are your thoughts?
Or like, Danse or Piper or Fawkes with something hilarious Idek ignore me
Oooookay, here’s my comprehensive list of companions - ALL companions, across Fallouts 3, 4, New Vegas and 76 - and their (headcanon) choices in wasteland pets. I’ll give a little explanation for each - particularly as many of these companions are transients and don’t have the luxury of owning a home to keep pets at. Also, I feel like most of the companions, while they might not necessarily like pets, would be somewhat fond or at least respectful of the pets of the Lone Wanderer/Courier/Sole Survivor/Vault Dweller, like Dogmeat and Rex. 
Bighorners
Lily Bowen: Everyone’s favorite super mutant grandma is already an experienced shepherdess in Jacobstown, and she’s more than willing to tear some night stalkers apart to keep her herd safe. If that’s not love beyond the norm for wasteland livestock, I don’t know what is. She’s probably given all of her bighorners names after the characters in the television reruns she used to watch on holotape in Vault 17, like Grace and Audrey and Lucille. 
Brahmin
Raul Tejada: Actually spent a decent part of his pre-war life living on a ranch, so he knows that most brahmin don’t deserve being labeled “irritable” just because people don’t know how to read their body language. I think he’d follow wild brahmin herds around a bit on a whim and keep them from coming to any harm, especially the little ones. He gives them names like the cattle he grew up with, Corazon and Gordo and Blanca. 
Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Doesn’t truck with the wild herds, but she knows that part of the success of a caravan lies with how well they treat their pack animals. All of her caravan’s brahmin have names - Penny, Magic and Sprinkles - and she’s careful to pair them up with drivers who are patient and work well with their various personalities. 
Cats
Butch DeLoria: While Butch ultimately decided to leave Vault 101 behind, I don’t think he would ever truly lose his fear of radroaches after what they did to his mom. Having a little friend to warm his bunk in Rivet City and pounce on intruders would probably set his mind at ease, maybe a black tomcat with one ear named Pepper. He might even gift his mom a kitten when he next comes to visit. 
Star Paladin Cross: I don’t think Cross much sees the use of an animal that doesn’t contribute to the community it lives in, like most of the Brotherhood of Steel. Cats, however, are excellent at pest control, even if the rats are bigger nowadays. I think she’d give the resident cats at the Citadel some pets in passing, and she’d smile when she has to extract playful kittens from inside her power armor frame. She’s especially fond of the cat colony’s matriarch, a scarred old tabby named Gemma. 
Curie: Upon her transition into a synth body, Curie is overjoyed with most animals and their new willingness to approach her for attention. She especially loves cats because she can pick them up and better feel their fur and purring. Her favorite cat is an orange stray in Diamond City that she calls Claude. 
Piper Wright: A companion for Nat when she’s out adventuring, an unbiased friend to bounce the latest opinion piece off of before going to print, and a lap-warmer for when you’re typing up the latest article about the exploits of the Minutemen - what’s not to like? The Wright family cat is a slippery, elegant calico named Sugar Bomb. 
Preston Garvey: While the Minutemen forts and settlements definitely lean more toward keeping dogs around for security purposes, I think Preston likes his pets quieter and less likely to bowl you over in excitement. The one most likely to sleep with him in his bunk at Sanctuary is a grumpy gray gentleman named Anchovy. 
Deathclaws
Veronica Santangelo: If anyone is crazy enough to swipe a deathclaw egg from a nest and try to hatch, rear and train a personal killing machine named Izzy, it’s Veronica. This will probably just alienate her from her Brotherhood chapter even more, but I’m sure she would take special care to make sure that her usual Mojave Wasteland haunts take a peek through a scope to see if the approaching deathclaw has a human on its back before taking a shot. 
Dogs
Clover: I don’t think Clover gets out beyond Paradise Falls much, so the only animals she’s used to are the dogs the raiders bring around when passing through. She probably has favorites among the usual visitors and enjoys tossing them bits of meat when she’s allowed to get away from Eulogy and Crimson. If liberated, she’d probably get at least three of her own dogs to watch over her while she sleeps: One small dog to carry with her, a Pekingese or Pomeranian descendant named Coco, and two large dogs to follow through on intimidation and protection, a mastiff named Rock and a Doberman descendant named Roll. 
Jericho: Jericho doesn’t deserve a dog but he’d probably have one around anyway to sniff out caps caches and hidden loot after he’s shot everyone in the vicinity. Some slinky beagle mix named Dewey, probably. 
Fawkes: I don’t think Fawkes would be picky at all about what kind of dog he’d have. He strikes me as the type who would adopt any half-friendly mutt he ran across. I do think he would have a bit of a soft spot for friendlier mutant hounds, though, and maybe view their mutated circumstances as similar to his own. He’d also be absolutely amazing at playing fetch. Just imagine how far he could lob a stick or ball. All of his dogs would have literary names too, like Byron and Agatha and Edgar. 
Craig Boone: Though he’s a bit of a prodigy at sniping, Boone knows his limitations when it comes to spotting hidden enemies on the horizon. I can see him having a hound dog at his side to find the more elusive ones and help him get rid of them faster. Maybe a bloodhound mutt named Bravo. 
Cait: Doesn’t like people, but she adores dogs. Having had the life where she’s been abused, exploited and forced into slavery, she’s keenly aware that those like the ones who took advantage of her treat dogs much the same. She’s very protective of any dog she encounters and is very likely to punch you in the face if you so much as look at one wrong. She’d probably name any pup she adopted Lucky. 
Hancock: Honestly, he’s just a fan of any animal that is happy to hang out with you whether you’re drunk, high, fighting raiders or patrolling downtown Boston. The Goodneighbor strays know him as the guy who always has mirelurk jerky in his pockets. His favorite is a rough-and-tumble, black-and-white spotted cattle dog descendant that he cheekily calls King George. 
Robert MacCready: He’s not quick to trust dogs, but once he’s sure they’re not a threat, they’re one of the few critters around which he’ll relax completely. He’s still a little wary of them around Duncan, but any dog that’s a part of his family is more or less his son’s permanent babysitter. 
Nick Valentine: Dogmeat is also basically his dog. The two have a history of working cases together, with Dogmeat just turning up whenever a trail goes cold and leading Nick to the evidence he needs to reopen his investigation. Nick doesn’t know how or why Dogmeat does it, but he’s not about to ruin a good thing. 
Strong: I don’t think he would turn down a ferocious mutant hound as a friend. He’d probably feed it mole rats and call it something like Killer. 
Foxes
Beckett: This former raider has a love-hate relationship with a fox that keeps going through his trash. He affectionately calls him Lil’ Bastard. 
Sofia Daguerre: Having crashed back to an earth she doesn’t recognize, I think Sofia would be tickled that the foxes of Appalachia have basically stayed the same despite the bombs. I can see her leaving dinner scraps out on her porch for one that she sometimes spots in the foliage, and slowly coaxing the critter to come into the light. She names her Scarlett once she finally convinces her to eat out of her hand. 
Mega sloths
Settler forager: I would not be at all surprised if this man ran into a mega sloth in the Mire and decided to try befriending it. The creature, probably surprised at this old guy’s nerve, decided to accept the handful of leaves he offered and grew slowly more fond of the guy’s persistence. It doesn’t know its name is Fergus but it does know that if a human is wearing overalls, it’s probably not a threat. 
Mole rats
Deacon: Alright, hear me out. Deacon has a fondness for underdogs, and mole rats are about as underdog as they come. I think Deacon thinks these little guys are cute despite their wrinkles and buck teeth, and I think he sees the value in having a tunneling pet that likes to collect shiny things. One of his deep cover hideouts is in an old tunnel system in the northern Commonwealth, where he hangs out with a young mole rat named Henry. 
Owls
Raider punk: This radio operator got wind of an abandoned nest of owlets in Appalachia early on in his career and, being the nearest to the report, decided to rescue the little guys. Now he has three owls that occasionally drop in at his camp to hoot and accept handouts: Nona, Decima and Morta. While he’s still fond of them, he’s usually disappointed that they aren’t the Mothman coming to visit. 
Rad chickens
Yasmin Chowdhury: Ever the opportunistic cook, she picked up the practice of raising chickens from the settlers at Foundation and has four hens of her own: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The “ladies,” as she refers to them, give her a constant stream of eggs for omelets. 
Ravens
Settler wanderer: This gal has an affinity with birds, who are always on the move like her. She admires their ability to be untethered and let the wind take them far and wide. Nevertheless, she likes to scatter corn when they come close to her on the road, and formed a sort of friendship with a particularly handsome specimen that she calls Tornado. 
Wolves
Old Longfellow: This guy is the epitome of the meme about dads not wanting pets and then instantly falling in love with whatever animal enters their life. He probably found an injured wolf pup in his travels around the island and took pity on it, nursing it back to health in his cabin. It’s still got a bit of a twisted paw, but follows him around and listens like any other dog and answers to the name Lamoine. 
Yao guai
Porter Gage: I bet this guy adopted an orphaned bear cub and raised it by hand. Now it’s so big that even if Gage thinks he’s an easy target for other raiders due to his age, he’s much less likely to get singled out than he thinks because he has a yao guai following him around like a puppy. The bear’s name is Fuzzy Wuzzy. It has no hair. 
No pets, thanks
Charon: Too likely to accidentally wind up in the line of fire. 
Sergeant RL-3: Too easily corrupted by Communist influences. 
Arcade Gannon: Too much time spent getting in your way. 
Codsworth: Too likely to make messes. 
Paladin Danse: Too many wasted resources. 
X6-88: Too much of a liability. 
Ada: Too easy to lose when on the move. 
Solomon Hardy: Too unsanitary. 
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allherdaydreams · 4 years ago
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Valley of Kings — Chapter One
Vali | The Middleman
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Universe: Vikings Pairing(s): None yet (there will be several later on, mainly Ivar x fem!OC and much later on, Harald x fem!OC) Word Count: 3,160 Warnings: Bad writing ig? Author’s Note: I don't really love this lol, but I decided I'm just going to publish the chapters on here when I'm done and have slightly edited them and hope for some feedback, etc. Sorry if it's not great! Anyway, lemme know if you wanna be on a taglist and I’ll add you! Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated ❤️
read the prologue here
I remember the smell of the air — as spring was leaving, with summer slowly taking its place, the wind was gentle and sweet with the scent of wildflowers. The hunting cabin which belonged to the royal family of Kattegat rested in the foothills just east of the town; to the south surrounded by trees, and to the north, mountains. The smell of pine and woodbine lingered in the air, too, though all of the sweet scents of the wilderness were drowned out with that of the meat we roasted over the fire each night we stayed there.
I remember the way the grass tickled the back of my neck as my friends and I watched the clouds. I had never understood why Sigyn insisted on being barefoot every moment that we were out there, but in midday, the dew had only just faded and the greenery was soft underfoot. The clear blue sky gave us a false sense of security.
It was the last truly peaceful day I would have in a long, long time. I must have been fifteen or sixteen, but I had always looked and acted older. My friends were all older, too — I was the same age as the youngest son of Ragnar, Ivar, but I only spent time with him when his brothers were around. I had been inseparable from Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd since I was small. We all figured we would stay that way forever.
We had been at the cabin for many days, and planned to head back into town at the end of the upcoming week. That day, Hvitserk and I had both killed a deer, Sigurd had caught many rabbits in his traps, and Ubbe had tracked a boar, though he was still waiting for the right time to shoot it without the probability of getting attacked. (He was much wiser than Hvitserk and I; had it been either of ours to kill, we would have gone after it with no hesitation or regard for our safety at all.)
My sister had come with us — Ivar went, too, and wherever Ivar was, Sigyn was never far behind — but had never enjoyed hunting. Instead, she chose to spend the trip in and around the cabin, cooking and cleaning. When the chores were all done, she spent the rest of her time alone out in the yard, lost in her own head. She was, it seemed, daydreaming at nearly every waking moment of her life.
When we reached the cabin that day, we found her in her usual spot on the grass, staring off at the clouds even as we reached her. Ivar crawled toward her, but instead of trying to grab her attention, he only laid down next to her.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked, staring up at the sky. As the other princes and I walked into the cabin, I heard Sigyn begin to tell a most detailed story, as she always did when Ivar asked that question.
"I am dreaming of a far away kingdom on the edge of the world..."
When we had resurfaced from the entrance of the cabin, Ivar and Sigyn were still laying in the same spot. Hvitserk had flashed me a grin as he nudged my arm before strutting over and laying down on the vacant side of Sigyn. Knowing he wished for me to follow, I laid down next to him.
"You know, Sigyn," Hvitserk said. "If you come with us to the Mediterranean, you will get to see a far away kingdom."
"Yes, Hvitserk, I know." She responded simply. "But it would not be as magnificent as the ones I dream about. Besides, I love Kattegat and I have no wish to leave. We have been over this."
Sigyn had always been straightforward. She was very honest about everything, and often didn't understand the difference between our jests or when we meant what we said. I suppose that my sweet sister assumed that everyone would be as charmingly frank about their feelings as her.
Sigyn had the softest, steadiest voice I had ever heard. She often kept a calm tone which made her seem as if she had the most level head in Norway. Only when she was in great distress or feeling something very strong did her tone ever noticeably change. Not to say she was emotionless by any means — she felt a great deal more than I could ever wrap my head around — but she was always calm. At least, she always was when she was around us.
"Are you going to be okay here while Mother and Father and I are gone, Sigyn?" I asked gently, leaning upwards just slightly to look over at her past Hvitserk. Hvitserk's brows furrowed slightly, and he looked over at her too as she gazed thoughtfully at the clouds. She nodded slowly, turning her head to meet our gazes.
"I think so. You will not be gone very long. I will have Ivar and Muninn." I smiled at her sweet tone, but had to keep myself from grimacing.
"We may be gone all summer," I reminded her.
"Or longer," added Hvitserk. She nodded again and looked back at the clouds.
"Perhaps you will. And I will miss you everyday. But you'll come back." Hvitserk and I looked at each other, and I shrugged as I laid back down. I knew she understood — she was always the more intelligent twin — but I just didn't want her to be hit with the emotions all at once when I would not be there to talk over them with her. We may not have spent every waking moment together, but we had never been separated in our lives.
We stayed there for a long time, quietly and sparsely conversing amongst ourselves. When Ubbe and Sigurd had finished skinning the meat for dinner, they called us over. Sigyn and Ubbe were the best cooks among us, so they were the ones to prepare our meal while the rest of us sat around them and talked. It was not long until we heard the sound of hooves coming up the path to the cabin, and Hvitserk and I stood and craned our necks to see who the incoming rider could be.
"It's Bjorn!" I called the others. Sigyn and Ubbe looked up then, put down the food, and quickly joined the rest of us as we all watched the eldest prince of Kattegat approach.
His expression was grim — though he was usually serious, I wasn't used to him looking so discouraged or unhappy. He dismounted his horse once he reached the cabin, tying the reins to a fence post.
"Hello, Bjorn," Sigyn said, walking up to him with a smile. She turned towards the tall horse, stroking his head gently, her attention now completely focused on the stallion. Bjorn smiled faintly as he gave her a nod.
"Hello, Sigyn," As he passed her, he patted her shoulder. Tearing his eyes away from my sister, he looked towards the rest of us, and his expression darkened again. "I come with news. You will all want to sit down."
By the time Bjorn had finished his story, all of our faces looked just as grim as his. Sigyn, who was sat on a bench behind Ivar, was the only one of us who didn't look angry in the slightest — her downcast eyes made it seem as if she was on the verge of tears as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Ivar's hair. She had always had a habit of soothing herself with soft textures when anxious or upset; usually, one of us lent our hand or hair for her to play with, if there was no small animal close enough for her to pet.
We were all quiet and contemplative for a while, all of us stuck in our own thoughts. I wondered what Hvitserk was thinking.
"You think our father never knew?" Ubbe brought his gaze up from the table to the sky, which had turned to grey. I saw in his eyes a calculating worry. He was trying to find reason in something where there likely wasn't anything that was good enough to justify it.
"It's possible," Bjorn mused, watching the knife in his hands as he turned it over slowly. "In those early days, it wasn't easy to navigate the sea."
"He knew. He had to." Hvitserk spoke from beside me. I glanced at him and nodded in agreement.
"If he did, he should have told the people," Sigurd decided aloud. "Everyone lost relatives; fathers and uncles, sons and daughters. They would have demanded revenge."
"That is why he didn't tell them," Ivar shot back, glaring at Sigurd.
"What do you mean?" Ubbe asked as his brows furrowed. Ivar rolled his eyes.
"It was a waste of time." He said simply.
"Ivar..." Sigyn's voice trailed off. Her face made it clear that she wanted to say something, but didn't know how to approach her volatile best friend.
"They were dead, Sigyn! Ragnar wanted to sail to Paris. He wanted to be famous. Isn't that more important?" He turned to look at her, and she drew her hands back from his hair and into her lap. "Hmm?"
Sigyn looked at the ground.
"I don't think so," She said solemnly.
"You can say that." Bjorn replied, shrugging. Ivar turned again, back to facing his brothers and I.
"I can say that? What does that mean?"
"Here's what it means —" Hvitserk interjected. "— at least to me. Our father abandoned us. We were just kids, and he ran off. Only the Gods know if he's still alive. And now, we hear he kept this big secret from everyone. That he was not truthful or honest."
"This makes me feel sick," Sigurd shook his head again. "How could our father not tell the people what had happened?"
"Maybe if he had told them, they would have killed him." Bjorn replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"If it's true..." Ubbe began. "If it's true that our father lied to his people and abandoned them, then I hope he never comes back."
"He betrayed our name. If he ever came back, I would kill him." Hvitserk snarled, ripping Sigyn out of her mind and back into the present. Her head shot up to look at Hvitserk.
"Me too." Sigurd agreed. Sigyn looked back and forth between the two of them, her expression somewhere between alarm and betrayal.
"Screw you!" Ivar exclaimed. Hvitserk scoffed and looked down, shaking his head. "All of you. He never did anything wrong. He is our father. And that is the end of it. You all sound like a bunch of Christians."
"I love our father as much as you do—" Ubbe said, but was interrupted by Ivar.
"Who said I loved him, Ubbe? I said I admired him. He's Viking. And you are soft." Ivar's voice was defensive, challenging, angry; as he usually was.
"I am not soft! None of us—" Ubbe gestured to his other brothers and to me. "— are soft. But we want to understand what our father did, and what he was."
He crouched down in front of Ivar, glancing up at Sigyn before making eye contact with Ivar. "As his son, his fame does not interest me. What he used his power for—" Ubbe pressed a finger to his temple. "— now that would interest me."
"By now, my brothers, there will be a lot of anger in Kattegat. Now they know the truth. Our father betrayed a whole generation of people," Hvitserk said.
"So if he ever came back—" Sigurd started to say, causing Bjorn to sit up straighter and stare at his brother.
"I don't think he is ever going to come back!" Bjorn exclaimed, frustrated. "I think what happened in Paris finally broke him. You all can say whatever you want, but he was a human. People started to talk as if he was a God — he was not a God! He was a man! A man with many dreams and many failings. I've learned that in the years since he went away. If I was him, I wouldn't come back."
I glanced at my sister now, who was watching Bjorn sadly.
"Despite all his failings, he is still the greatest man in the world to me," Bjorn looked down at the ground again as finished his sentence.
"He cared for you — he cared for all of you," Sigyn said, looking to each prince in turn. "He made mistakes, but as Bjorn said, he is only human." Bjorn and Ivar nodded, but Hvitserk and Ubbe shook their heads.
"Sigyn, we were not lucky as you were to have a father that was there for us. If he truly cared enough, he would have stayed." Ubbe told her. His voice was gentle, as it always was when he spoke to her, but I could hear the frustration behind his words. "You should learn that about love now; love means loyalty. Dedication. You don't abandon those you love."
I watched my sister grapple with finding the right thing to say. Ivar reached a hand behind him, blindly reaching for Sigyn's own. Once he had grabbed it, he guided it to his shoulder before letting it go. Her fingers traced shapes onto his shirt.
"I must go to your home now, Vali, Sigyn," Bjorn looked towards each of us in turn. "I have more preparations for the voyage to discuss with you father, and now I should talk to him about this as well." I nodded at him.
"I will go with you," I replied, and looked towards Sigyn, who met my gaze.
"I should stay here, then. There is no need for both of us to go," She decided.
"Perhaps we should head back to Kattegat early," Ubbe suggested, looking to his brothers. "See the reactions of the people."
"We already know how the people will react, Ubbe," Hvitserk said. "But yes, we should go and see what we can do."
The journey to my home was longer than usual; we had gone around Kattegat instead of cutting through it, which was the quickest way there, but didn't seem appropriate. A silence hung between Bjorn and I for most of the journey.
"You did not speak," Bjorn said finally, just before we had reached my home. "You did not speak when we were discussing my father."
I nodded at him. "It was not my turn to speak. Not my conversation to have." Bjorn let out a short hum of amusement.
"I think you discount your wisdom. Or maybe your importance," Bjorn decided. I didn't have an answer to that.
We dismounted our horses as we reached out family's land. Bjorn walked ahead of me, but stopped slowly and leaned against one of my father's many souvenirs from past raids. I stopped beside him, and he glanced at me before nodding his head over to the water. When I followed his gaze, I was met with my parents wading in the shallows with the little model ships I had helped him make.
My father must have noticed our presence somehow, because he turned to look at us before he walked over. Bjorn drew close to him, then spoke in a low voice.
"Did you know Ragnar lied to us all? The settlement in Wessex was destroyed as soon as we left." My father looked from Bjorn to me, then to the ground as he thought for a moment. He nodded, glancing back to me before looking Bjorn in the eyes again.
"I knew," He said. "A farmer who had escaped the slaughter told you father and I what had happened. Then, Ragnar killed him, so no one else would find out."
"You were a good friend to my father," Bjorn replied simply.
"Bjorn? Vali?" My mother's voice reached my ears, and I turned from the men to her, smiling.
"Helga," Bjorn answered, immediately walking towards her.
"Hello, Mamma," I called to her, following Bjorn again.
"What brings you back so soon, Vali? I thought you were going to be gone hunting for another week," My mother questioned as she walked out of the water and met us on the sand, embracing me.
"I decided to come back early. We caught plenty of game," I lied, but she nodded and smiled as she drew away from me. She turned to Bjorn.
"And what brings you here, Bjorn?"
"I was just coming to see how the boats were progressing," Bjorn explained.
"What do you say, Helga? What shall we tell him?" My father asked, walking along the docks.
"We think that it won't be long before you have boats ready and able to take you to the Mediterranean Sea," My mother told Bjorn happily.
"If it exists," My father muttered.
"Of course it exists," Bjorn insisted, looking up from the model boat my mother had placed in his hands.
"It's just a map, Bjorn; marks on a paper. A child could have drawn it! How can we know it's real?" My father asked. Bjorn studied the boat more as he thought over his words carefully.
"I learned from my father. The only way to tell if something is real..." Bjorn knelt down, gently pushing the model back into the sea. "...is to sail there."
I would like to think I can remember everything of that day — of most days spent at the hunting cabin, in Kattegat; with my friends, with my sister; the days that bled into each other and the nights that ended with sunrise instead of slumber; that phase in my life where I was preparing for the rest of it, learning the arts and trades and traditions of my people.
Indeed, I would certainly like to think that nothing of those days has escaped my memory. But as I write this, and as I try to recall every moment of every day & night spent in the sweet comfort of home, of youth, of camaraderie with those whom I still love most in the world, I recognize that the mind is never so sharp as to be able to recall every last detail or feeling from many years prior. My mind is not as sharp as it once was, either — I have accepted that soon, if it hasn't already, it will begin to fail me.
Perhaps not all of this story happened in the way I remember it — who is to say, when so few of us are left and still able to recount our adventures? — but the stories of my people & my past deserve to be told. Otherwise, who will remember the Norsemen? The Vikings are gone. I am one of the last to be able to remember the Golden Age. This story is mine to tell.
tags // @peachyboneless @youbloodymadgenius sorry y’all probably forgot about this fic its been so long lmaoo i’ll unadd you if you want
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demig00ddess · 4 years ago
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To the last breath
Pairing: Bill Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Bill Weasley are former classmates, and now fiancé and fiancée, and brilliant Curse-Breakers working in tandem. The future promises to be great for both of you, but the last work assignment turns into a tragedy.
Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, injuries, death
Word Count: 1350
A/N: Forgot to post it yesterday. Sometimes, I get too hung up on the little things of the characters, but I'm interested in coming up with their own stories for these things. My first angst, don't judge strictly.
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"These are the most boring dungeons in my life," your voice echoed off the stone walls. "At Hogwarts, at least, there was Snape in the dungeons. And what's here?"
"The skeleton tried to strangle me," Bill said, rubbing his neck. "This is not enough for you, love?"
"It was in the morning," you answered cheerfully, raising your wand higher to light the way, and twined your fingers together.
You have worked your way through the ruins of the ancient catacombs, in search of another lost goblin treasure. Your last assignment before your wedding and honeymoon. And your thoughts were absorbed by the worries of the upcoming celebration.
"Oh no!" you gasped. Bill twitched, shielding you from possible danger, holding out his wand in front of him. You put your hand gently on his shoulder, soothing him. "It's all right, dear. Sorry, I was just thinking. I promised to choose napkins for the banquet yesterday and completely forgot. Mrs Weasley will kill me!"
Bill let out a sigh of relief and lowered his wand, smiling.
"What kind of wedding would it be, then, without a bride? And mom asked to call her simply by the name. In a week, you will also become Mrs Weasley and there will be a terrible confusion," Bill laughed at the way you blushed, and hugged you from the back, kissing you softly on the temple. "We'll reach the vault soon."
You checked the map and continued on your way. Bill was not mistaken, after a couple of forks, you found yourself in a spacious round treasury resembling a well. Gold coins, jewellery, and weapons were piled up in it. Your trained eye of the Curse-Breaker immediately noticed several particularly valuable goblin-made items for which you will be awarded at Gringotts.
You and Bill cast a Protego charm and split up by going around the room from different sides. You stepped over a human skeleton, heading for the treasure. One of your work duties was to check the safety of everything you found, so you decided to do just that.
A few minutes later you put aside another absolutely ordinary goblet, which has dried blood or wine. Your attention was attracted by a large wooden box decorated with carvings with figures of wild animals. You lifted the lid and held up your wand, examining the contents. The box was full of different-sized bones, you winced, there could have been human ones among them. Taking from there a small, beautiful white fang, you closed the box and returned it to its place. Not cursed — not interesting. But you admired the fang. It belonged to a wolf or a werewolf, or some unknown creature.
"Look, it's so beautiful," you tossed fang to your fiance. "You can make a pendant or a cool earring. Can you imagine yourself with this, huh?"
"I don't have as much fantasy as you, honey," Bill laughed and threw it back at you. "Do you wanna pocket it?"
"Nobody needs this stuff anyway, the goblins are only interested in irons," you replied, knowing full well that he was only reproaching you in jest. Both of you are back to work. You were studying the treasure so that you wouldn't stumble upon some cursed thing. And Bill was examining the treasury itself, he was very interested in the magical writings on the walls.
Some shine on the floor attracted you. Only now you noticed magic circles inscribed in several places with small magic crystals in the middle under the layer of dust and sand. One of the crystals glowed brighter the closer Bill got to it, fascinated by the exploring of the wall.
"These're not runes, I've never seen this before," Bill ran his fingers along the wall. Distracted by his voice, you didn't notice him take another step forward. You looked down in horror when you saw that he had stepped on the edge of the circle.
"Bill!" your Protego charm dissipated when you flung Bill aside with a wave of your wand. A purple bolt of lightning shot out of the crystal, striking the spot where Bill had been standing a moment earlier. He flew off a couple of meters, hitting the wall with his back, but immediately got up.
"Great shot, love," Bill said, taking a couple of weak steps toward you.
"Oh, Merlin!" The curse barely hit him, leaving only a small cut on his arm. You laughed with relief and took a step toward him. "It was so clo— "
A scarlet beam of an identical magic crystal directly above your head hit your chest. You felt as if a thousand blades were simultaneously slashed through your skin and insides. Instead of a cry, a gurgling wheeze came from the throat and your mouth filled with blood. You took a step forward and collapsed into Bill's arms.
"No, Y/N!"
Your shirt instantly became damp and warm, and scarlet spots spread all over it. You were a limp doll lying on Bill's lap, unable to move. Blood mixed with your tears was flooding your face. It seemed like every cell in your body was torn apart. Red and black spots were flickering before your eyes.
"No no no!" Bill pulled a bottle of Essence of Dittany from his bag. He poured half of the potion into your mouth and tried to heal your wounds. But even a whole bath of essence could hardly help you. You felt it. You felt that nothing could stop it. You felt you were dying.
"We need to apparate to the hospital, hold on to me," Bill tried to lift you up, but lowered you in fright, hearing a painful moan.
"Don't," you whispered. He looked into your eyes with excruciating pain and slowly shook his head. He was powerless to do anything while you were dying in his arms.
"No, please." Bill put his palms around your face, warm and wet with your blood, and burst into tears. "Please, get up."
"It's okay," you smiled out of the corner of your mouth, his sight was tearing your heart hundreds of times stronger than a cutting spell.
"Don't leave me," Bill whispered. "Please, Y/N, don't leave me. I love you. I love you so much!"
You tried to smile again, but your face cramped. You wanted to tell him "I love you too." Merlin, how much you wanted to tell him! But each breath was more difficult, you were gasping, feeling your lungs filling with blood instead of air. Your legs went numb right away, and now you couldn't even feel your arms. The pain was gone. The picture in front of your eyes was floating and gradually disappearing as if someone was taking apart a solved puzzle. You opened your eyes wider, trying to see Bill's face once more, but it was all in vain. Darkness has closed around you.
× × × × × × × × × ×
Bill was sitting on the stone floor in a pool of blood, clutching your cooling body to him, and howling softly, choking on his tears. He couldn't tell how much time had passed when he finally put you down to the ground. His fingers, blood dried on them, trembled, closing your eyes with a glazed gaze. Bill kissed your cold forehead and leaned his forehead against it, shedding tears on your face.
He took off his jacket, and tore the unspotted side of his shirt into rags, which he used to gently wipe your face, and then the remaining wounds. Last of all, he straightened the engagement ring that glittered on your finger. A small thing fell out of your hand and rolled on the floor. Bill, almost not realizing what he was doing, picked it up to examine. It was the same fang that caught your attention. "A fang for his cool earring." Bill turned it over in his hands and put it in his pocket. Then he picked your body up bridal style, and, swaying slightly, went to the exit from the dungeon, leaving behind red, like rose petals, drops of blood.
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pinkhairedlily · 4 years ago
Text
Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter
SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment
They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.
And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.
In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.
“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”
Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.
“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”
Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.
Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!
She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.
Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”
Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”
Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”
Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”
Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”
The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”
Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.
“Why….” She asked breathlessly.
“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.
“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”
“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.
“It was Naruto’s idea.”
“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”
“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.
“Thank you, everyone.”
--------------------------------
It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.
They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.
Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”
“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”
“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”
“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”
In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”
They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.
“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.
“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.
“Do you miss the cream puffs?”
“Nothing comes close.”
“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”
In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”
“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.
“Don’t need one.”
“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”
“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.
Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”
“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”
“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”
With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.
Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.
“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”
Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”
“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”
“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”
Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.
“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.
“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents�� room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”
“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.
“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”
“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.
“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.
Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.
Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”
“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.
“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.
“Who is it?”
“Sasuke also likes someone.”
“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”
“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”
“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”
The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.
“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”
--------------------------------
Graduation Day
“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.
His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.
“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.
But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”
Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.
“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”
Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.
“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”
Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.
“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”
Laughter broke out.
“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”
When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.
It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.
Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”
Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.
Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.
In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”
She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.
Then, she let her tears fall.
--------------------------------
“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.
“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.
“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”
In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”
“Grumpyyyyyy.”
“Idiot blondie.”
Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.
“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”
Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.
It was the last picture of their high school life.
--------------------------------
The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.
“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”
“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.
“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”
“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.
The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.
The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.
“I’ll miss you.”
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zeetasposts · 4 years ago
Text
Quiet Mornings
Fandom: Ikesen
Pairings: Kennyo x Mama's OC (Asuga)
Genre: Fluffffff
Words: 1300+
Comments: Eeeeep, birthday bash week has begun! Eeeek, so excited! Whooop Whooop! So this is another lil one for our wonderful Mama! Hope you feel better soooon, Mama! Sending ya all the hugs and love!! ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈
.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’ .*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’・゚。.*:・’゚: 。.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。
Out on his morning reflection, a squeak could be heard coming from the dense foliage on the path less travelled. Kennyo enjoyed exploring the forest environments in the early hours of the morning, discovering new paths, and clearing his head before the hustle and bustle of the day.
Kennyo loved his followers and disciples, but golly they sure were demanding as rebuilding a temple from the ground up was certainly no easy feat, despite having the endless support of his love.
Kennyo raised a curious brow at the ruckus coming from the patch of bushes a little way from his path. He was ready to simply walk past, ignoring it, but something compelled him to take a closer look. After all, the monk was well known for his charitability towards not only his people but also the forest critters—never able to resist a man, woman, child or animal in need.
Inching closer, his hands parted the branches and leaves like the red sea, eyes widening in shock when he spotted a lone pup— presumably lost— beady eyes looking up at him and piercing his very heart and soul with its miserable little whines. The little creature reminded him of the young wolf he called his own— his dearest love, left at home to sleep in and get some much-deserved rest after a long week of work. The remembrance was not for the whining, heavens no, but for the pure strength and determination to endure, no matter the situation they found themselves in.
There was a beat of silence, both staring at one another, both sussing the other out before the pup started whining once again. He neared Kennyo craning his neck up as the cries continued— as if clearly stating his unhappiness to the man—even after Kennyo scooped him up in his arms, the puppy continued to wail.
“Hush now, little one,” Kennyo spoke sternly. However, his features completely softened as he looked down at the canine in his arms— warm and safe—hands stroking the soft fur as he attempted to settle the babe. It wasn’t long before the whining died down; little eyes lulled to sleep in the warm arms.
It was certainly not Kennyo’s intention to bring home yet another rescue on his morning walk, but here he was, quietly opening the temple door with the pup comfortably cradled in his arms— trying his best not to make so much as a peep to wake the household.
He, gently as he could, set the dog down on the plush pillow in the corner of the kitchen, careful not to wake the sleeping baby. The last thing he needed was for the creature to wake and start whining again; heaven knows all hell would break loose if his dear lover was woken before dawn.
Tiptoeing, he made his way back into the ever brightening bedroom, crouching down by Asuga’s side to check on her before tenderly brushing a stray strand of her hair from her eyes.
Not a trace of the trademark stern expression could be seen on his face as he gazed down at the one he loved the most in the world. His eyes reflected the tenderness and adoration he felt for the woman before him, and the soft smile that came to his lips, one which betrayed his every thought— my, how hard he had fallen. Retracting his hands, he was quiet as the night as he stood up to retreat back to the kitchen— to prepare for the day that lay ahead.
He smiled to himself as he got busy preparing two healthy helpings of rice pudding and a cup of dark tea— brewed to perfection just the way Asuga liked it. It was no secret that she was by no means a morning person and that the most he would get from her before the morning caffeine would be a few dissatisfied grunts and groans.
Food and tea in hand, he made his way back to bed, sun steadily rising to illuminate the room further, utterly robbing it from the dark that had once enveloped it. He set the breakfast down within arms reach, moving beneath the covers to wrap an arm around her waist and bring her closer to him. He leaned down and placed a loving kiss on her shoulder, just above the flower tattoo he loved so much.
Snaking his arms further around her waist, he muttered good morning against her neck before following it up with another adoring kiss.
She groaned in response, which only brought a hearty chuckle from Kennyo’s throat, tickling her neck as he nuzzled deeper into her skin. “Happy birthday,” he spoke warmly, slowly coaxing her from her slumbered state.
She only grumbled in return, burrowing, still further into the sheets, hoping to achieve sleep for a few moments longer. Just as Kennyo was about to release another chuckle, a series of whines could be heard coming from the kitchen. Shit, he had forgotten about the orphaned pup; what made matters worse was that Hayate, Asuga's wolf companion’s ears now perched, eyes narrowing as if to glare through the walls in the direction of the sound.
The wolf looked completely unimpressed as he continued to listen to the sounds echoing through the house. With a moment’s notice, the wolf bounded from his place at the foot of the bed, swiftly rounding the corner to investigate.
Kennyo panicked
Haya-” was all that left the man’s lips before the sounds of glass shattering in the next room could be heard. Kennyo’s blood froze over as the worst-case scenario ran through his mind.
“Who the hell is making all that noise,” the raspy roar came from beside him, followed by a dissatisfied scowl. Kennyo was about to jump up, investigate the damage when the grumpy growling and whining stopped altogether.
In angst, he peered through the dimly lit room, holding his breath as he waited—silence, only silence could be heard.
That is until soft steps pattered on the wooden floor, getting louder and louder until the pair rounded the corner. Kennyo released a sigh of relief at the sight of both animals unharmed. In fact, the sight of the two together had his heart-melting. Hayate proudly carried the little creature by the scruff of his neck into the room— tail swishing happily as he made his way back to their bed, taking his original spot at the foot.
Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Agsuga looked over at the pair and raised a brow at Kennyo, “And this,” she asked, voice still rough with sleep.
“Found alone in the woods, mother nowhere to be seen,” Kennyo stated simply, eyes brimming with sympathy for the little pup who now curled up between Hayate and Asuga. The little thing let go of an adorable yawn before tired eyes fell closed once more, to sleep peacefully in the comforts of the bed.
Kennyo reached over as a large hand covered the little one’s head giving the canine a gentle pat, both he and Hayate sending Asuga an equally big pair of puppy dog eyes.
“I turn my back for two minutes, and you are already rescuing another pet,” she jested with a shake of the head before leaning back into Kennyo’s warm embrace.
Kennyo could only smile in response; he couldn’t help it when it came to those in need. No matter what creature, big or small, he could never turn his back on them. “Shall we eat breakfast? It’s getting cold,” he prompted the woman whose eyes had already fallen shut against the warmth of his chest.
With an endearing sight, he pulled the blanket up to better cover Asuga while his fingers tenderly traced circles on her hip. He would indulge her with a few moments more, eyes too fluttering closed and enjoying the quiet, peaceful morning cuddles with the love of his life and the two canine companions.
.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’ .*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’・゚。.*:・’゚: 。.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。
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ditch-witches · 5 years ago
Text
Rehearsal Dinner (George MacKay Smut)
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So @iongaa​ really came through and murdered us with the aesthetic. Mother of God, how is she so talented.
requested: yes/no (your requests are always so intriguing, keep sending weird AUs for us)
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pairing: stepbro!George MacKay x reader
warnings: literally everything. all of the sins. whoever can point them out gets a high five, okay?
word count: 5,414 (yikes)
a/n: there,,,, may be a ,,, part 2,,, because some of us got carried away,, 
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you made your way downstairs, basking in the scent of breakfast cooking over the stove. You took a seat at the kitchen table beside your dad's fiance. She smiled at you over the top of the morning paper, taking a sip of her coffee. Your father moved to set a plate in front of you and press a kiss to the top of your head before plopping down in the seat next to you. "Glad you're home," he cooed, grinning proudly as you took a bite of your collection of breakfast foods and nodded in approval. "Thank you for coming back for the wedding."
You sent him a small smile, "Of course!"
His fiance spoke up. "Speaking of, George should be on his way..." she trailed off as she looked at her watch and your heart sank.
"I thought he couldn't?" You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. George was the last person you wanted to be around. His cocky smirk flashed into your mind alongside his parade of girls he always brought home. Your parents had been dating for a few years now, most of your time in high school and well into your college years, yet the two of you had interacted as little as possible, only "playing nice" for Christmas. Every time the notion of George coming home came into discussion, you usually took off. Due to your ability now to escape from his arrogance, you hadn't seen him in a year, shoving the wedge between the two of you as much as possible. Your blood boiled as your memories of him taking up most of the couch and kicking you out of the house were unveiled.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" His mother asked, bringing you back into present time. You hadn't realized just how out of it you were until your fork fell from your hand, now bent almost completely in half. You exhaled, immediately apologizing for the vandalism and standing from the table, saying you were fine. "Are you sure?" She called after you.
You looked back over your shoulder, plastering on a fake smile. "Oh yeah! It's fine, everything's fine!" You all but sprinted for cover in your room, leaning against your door as your heart pounded in your chest. You let out a groan. Out of all people: George.
You pulled the sleeves of your blouse over your wrists to warm up more, yawning slightly as you lazily held a mock bouquet in your hand. You were mixed into the plethora of George's cousins serving as bridesmaids, feeling awkward and out of place as you only knew two of them really. You were the maid of honor, merely because it was your father that was getting married but you knew if he had any say, you would have been on his side and George in your place. In the excitement of family members arriving and the church being way too overbooked for the weekend, you had almost forgotten the impending doom that was "rushing to get here as we speak." You blew a bubble with your already stale gum, earning an eye roll from one of the many women. You tilted your head at her with a sarcastic grin.
The wedding planner clapped his hands, capturing the attention of the room and lining everyone up. He put you towards the back, which you were prepared for, yet then ushered the groomsmen in. You locked eyes with an all too familiar expression, your eyebrow raising at the man. His eyes were exactly the same, but for some reason, it was like puberty had hit him like a truck. "Now, this isn't usually how this works, but by request of the couple, we're switching things up," the planner groaned slightly, and George moved to stand beside you.
You snapped your eyes forward, clutching the bouquet in your hand tighter. There was chatter all around the two of you as everyone attempted to find their places. You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to make conversation with him. You took George's arm and he smirked down at you. "You gonna ignore me all night, darling?" He jeered, peering down at you and you rolled your eyes.
"What circus animal did you bring home this time, asshole?" He chuckled at your remark, pulling you tighter to his side.
He wet his lips. "Why? So you can get jealous again?"
You scoffed. "Grow up."
"After you, doll face." He bumped his hip against yours. "What have you been up to since I've been gone? Still a virgin?"
Your ears burned and you clenched your jaw. "Like it's any of your business." You sighed, attempting to calm your frazzling nerves at just his presence.
"You are so easy to stir up, love," he muttered, chuckling darkly.
You shut your eyes momentarily. "Would you just shut up so we can get this shitshow over?" He moved his hand to settle over yours positioned on his arm, your skin blazing at his touch, making you look up at him. He leaned towards your ear and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. The smell of his aftershave was almost enticing enough for you to forget you were hating him.
His breath was warm against your neck and his accent deep and fuzzy in your ear. "Oh, darling, what's the fun in that?" You felt flushed and winded as he stepped away from you, his hand leaving your arm. "Steady now. I don't wanna have to throw you over my shoulder," he muttered, a smug look on his face as he turned forward, his posture upturned. He knew what he was doing. You were slightly taken aback, snapping your mouth shut and letting him lead you towards the altar behind the other members of the wedding party. You were silent during the rehearsal, locking eyes with George every so often only to dart your gaze away from him. It was difficult to pay attention to the jokes the priest was making while George continued to undress you with his eyes, and for some reason, you were into it.
You were quiet on the trip to the dinner, your mind almost numb as your thoughts flashed to George's breath on your neck and his overstimulating smell, not to mention the feeling of his hands. You almost moaned before your mind jumped into the present, grateful because you were sandwiched between your grandmother and one of your uncles in the back of your father's car. One of your second cousins turned over his shoulder to look at you. "Who was the guy you were walking with? New stepbrother?" He jeered and your shoulders tensed at that thought. What the fuck, he was going to be your stepbrother.
"Yeah, that's George. Handsome kid, don't you think?" Your father piped up and you grimaced.
The cousin snorted. "Don't encourage that. They'll end up as the wHaT aRe yOU dOinG sTepBro trope." You signed deeply.
"My mother is in the car!"
"He's not my stepbrother," you grumbled, attempting to drone out his voice.
"Yet," he jested, making you roll your eyes. "If you're gonna tap it, tap it now-"
"We're listening to the radio, see!" Your dad intervened, cutting him off and turning up the radio while singing overdramatically to the music, leaving you now to your burning mind. You chewed on your fingernail as your anxiety began to shoot through the roof. Before you knew it, you were engaging in small talk with your cousin and her friend as the giant table was being set. Looking around at the expensive hall the dinner was being held in, the thought of how your father and future stepmother got the money for such a venue while putting one kid through college and the other through graduate school crossed your mind. Your cousin's friend was a nice way to get your mind off of George, he was funny and totally in love with your cousin, evident in the way his eyes brightened when she would talk to him or laugh at one of his jokes. The only eyes on you when you laughed were George's as he bantered with groups of men closer to his age across the room. He'd eye you over the brim of his glass, his strong hands making your mouth water as he would tap one of his rings against the crystal absentmindedly.
"So, how do you feel about your dad getting married? The new family giving you trouble?" Your cousin's friend asked, nudging your arm at his light-hearted joke.
You shrugged. "If he's happy, I'm happy. The woman he's marrying is a total badass too so, really it's fine." You ran a hand through your hair, shooting a glance towards George and he looked at you with a smirk. You felt like you needed a dousing of holy water to combat your temptations.
George seemed to be fighting his own urges as he excused himself from his party and walked over to your group, settling his hand on your lower back to whisper in your ear. "Come with me," he mumbled. "I'm going to steal her for a few minutes if that's okay with you guys?" He asked your cousin, her cheeks slightly red as she looked like she would swoon if he came near her. Her friend eyed you before the two shrugged you away with George. George walked beside you as the two of you walked out of the room and down the hall, turning a few corners until you could no longer hear the party. He slipped his hand into yours before pinning you to a wall swiftly.
"What are you doing?" You muttered unevenly, heat pulsing through your body as one of his hands rested on your hip, your hand absentmindedly pushed his sleeve up to expose his veiny arm to your touch. It was like your body had a mind of its own.
"You think I'm going to let you eye fuck me all night without repercussions, pet?" You swallowed at his words, the deepness of his voice making your legs almost jelly. His other hand ran up your body, over your breast to take part of your collar between his index and thumb as he rubbed the fabric between his finger pads. "Was that guy your little boyfriend?" He tisked darkly. "So cute," he mocked, his hungry eyes darting up to yours. Your mind was absolutely putty as his smell invaded your senses. You tried not to focus on his knee propped between your legs. His fingers ghosted against your neck until the pad of his thumb brushed over your bottom lip before you took his thumb into your mouth, your eyes burning into his as his jaw tensed, focused on the movements of your tongue swirling against it. The feeling of his fingers resting against your jaw during this action egged you. He drew his thumb from your mouth, running it down your chin before his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. "Dirty girl," he growled before crashing his lips against yours, making you moan against him as he pushed himself against you.
The taste of liquor on his lips blended with your flavored chapstick as your tongue slipped into his mouth. In a mess of tugging and biting each other, your body melted into his rough grasp. You wanted whatever repercussions his twisted mind could come up with. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. You fought against diving your hands into his trousers to beg him to continue, but he broke away from you as you fought to catch your breath. Your lips were buzzing as the feeling of him still lingered. He brought his hand back up to your jaw again, tipping your chin up. "Say it," the devil's grin painted across his face before he continued, pressing his lips against yours once more, his teeth dragging your bottom lip slowly between his teeth. "Say you're dirty, darling," he ordered, his face hovering over yours as his hand squeezed your throat.
You moaned quietly as he regulated your breathing with his hand. You wanted to drink in his dark, commanding appearance. "I'm dirty," you panted. He stepped away from you and you nearly slipped down the wall, completely out of breath and flustered, missing his hands on your body.
"Pull yourself together," he jested darkly, sending you a smoldering gaze as he pushed his other sleeve to his elbow. It's like he already knew your weaknesses. "Answer me."
"Yes, sir," you responded, your mouth seeming to know what he expected. He nodded with a smug expression as he gestured for you to walk back into the room with him while you straightened your shirt and fixed your hair.
He stopped you, reaching to fix your collar and you fought against the blush growing across your body. His smirk grew. "God, you're trembling. It'll be difficult leaving you alone at dinner," he almost groaned. You fought against kissing him again as his dark eyes surveyed your expression, the gears turning in his mind at the sight of you. God, you wanted him.
You were shoved into a seat beside George, he sent you a small grin as he took a sip of his drink and the waiters began to serve the main course. You were positioned towards the end of the table with the rest of your cousins and George on the line between the "cousins' table" and where the older people sat discussing politics and climate change. Your cousins mainly discussed hot TA's and movies that were premiering. "George, what's your major?" George perked up at a question directed to him, oozing charm as he began to tell one of the younger girls at the table about his degree, but half of his response fuzzed out of your attention as his hand slipped to your knee beneath the table cloth. You froze momentarily, your breath hitching in your chest as your chewing slowed.
It was like he was completely unaffected, continuing the conversation as his hand slid further up your thigh, fingers curling to wrap around your inner thigh. Your eyes snapped to him, pretending to listen to him as well as his fingers ran circles against your sensitive skin. You sighed unevenly. The fabric of your skirt was ruffled as he was slowly reaching your heat. The conversation deterred and George leaned towards you a bit. "Take a sip of water," he directed, lowly, his eyes tearing away from you. You furrowed your brows slightly but as his expression flipped, you didn't question him, raising the glass to your lips nonchalantly and one of his fingers brushed against your core, making you almost choke. He chuckled slightly. "Smooth?" He asked loud enough that it eased the slightly worried expressions directed towards you.
You set down your glass, coughing falsely. "Wrong pipe," you grumbled. His hand pushed your legs apart as he took a bite of his food, unbothered. His fingers ghosted against your underwear and you bit back a moan wanting to vibrate through your body.
"Hey, did you hear about that senator that died last week?" Someone asked you, knowing full well you kept up with information like that.
You shifted in your seat, looking like you were attempting to choose your words carefully, but in reality, you were trying to get George to leave you alone for a moment. "Heart attack right? It should be fine-" your voice cut out as George's finger moved your underwear to the side and he toyed with your nerves more. His face was so neutral it was like he wasn't pleasuring you at all as he chewed, listening to your words. "I mean," your voice came out unevenly as you tried to calm yourself against his movements. "He'll be replaced before something drastic can happen." Your voice dropped an octave as his finger slipped into you. He positioned his hand to a more comfortable angle and your hand dropped to wrap around his wrist, beginning him to stop. "Too bad this one wasn't an actor," you joked.
"So, how do they go about replacing a Senator?" George questioned, his face almost breaking into a smile as your eyes shot daggers into his. His finger curled inside of you, making you breathe deeply, your eyes wanting to squeeze shut in pleasure.
You furrowed your brows, feeling like you were running a marathon. "Oh, come on, I know you already know how the US system runs."
His finger sped up and before you knew it, another one was added. "Yeah, I'm still not entirely sure though." He continued to sidestep so the attention of the section of the table was on you. You clamped your thighs together, hoping to stop his movements but instead drew his fingers deeper into you.
Your mind blurred. "Well, um..." You wet your lips, trying not to look like you were jonesing to grind against George's palm to finally get yourself off. Your hand ran up against his arm again, the veins bulging as his hands quickened, making you see stars as your climax was almost within reach. George's mom and your dad began to make their rounds at the table, thanking people as they went.
"Are you okay? You look kind of flushed," George commented, making his mother's brow furrow. You sighed, wanting to dig your face into the crook of his neck or kiss him: anything, you just needed more of him. He removed his fingers from you and you let out a small noise, he slyly wiped his hands on his napkin and you grabbed his hand beneath the table, lacing your fingers and squeezing as if to motion your urgency.
George's mother pressed the back of her hand against your warm cheeks. "I'm fine..." you commented, looking up at her momentarily, your hand gripping onto George's.
His mother sighed. "Are you sure? I can drive you home if you're not feeling well?" Your father came around the table at her words and you were more embarrassed than anything.
"What's going on?" The man commented, his smile faltering.
His mother frowned. "She's not feeling well, dear."
"Don't worry about it, mum. I can take her," George piped up, running his thumb over the back of your hand before letting go of you and standing up. A chorus of goodbyes called to you as you assured your father and his future bride that you were really fine, just tired, as George helped you into your jacket. You found it difficult to stand with how unsatisfied you were. You followed him out into the cold air around one side of the building as he almost stalked to an expensive-looking car. Your eyebrow perked at the vehicle. "Like it?" He asked, his smug grin making your blood boil.
"What was that back there?" You nipped, pulling on his arm so he was looking at you, his grin widening.
"Which part?" He got dangerously close to you. "When you couldn't handle my fingers, or when you were begging me to get you off?" Your breathing shallowed once again, either from how furious you were at him or how turned on you were you didn't know. His hand settled on your neck, bringing your lips towards his briefly in a searing kiss. "Don't worry, love. You have it coming for you still." Fuck, you wanted him to rip you in half. He dangled the keys in front of your face. "Wanna drive?"
You groaned slightly, unlocking his car and opening the passenger door, shoving him inside and climbing into his lap, shutting the door behind yourself. "Fuck you," you bit. His grin darkened and he pulled the lever on the seat, laying the seat down a bit further. One of his large hands slipped against your thigh again, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him hungrily, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.
God, he wasn't even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises. You wanted him to mark you. The car windows began to fog as your movements and George's warm breath filled the air. "Fuck, I want you," he growled into your ear.
"Take me home," you almost whimpered, halting your actions. His hand moved to your neck again, pressing his lips against yours.
"Beg," he demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want, baby."
"I said take me home," you breathed. His dark eyes searched yours for submission, but you were quite flustered from tonight's events. You needed a few moments to collect your thoughts on what George could be thinking about doing to you as 'punishment'. You climbed off of him into the driver's seat ready to take his car for a spin. You noticed just how much George's actions had affected you as you felt your hands shaking to take the wheel. You could feel his eyes raking over you as you put the car in drive. You were determined to make it home in one piece and not a complete puddle of need, but even the thought of his eyes on you were making that task completely impossible.
"What to do, what to do," he almost tsked next to you. "You've really got me going tonight haven't you," he seemed to ask, but you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. You could feel his warm hand coming into contact with your leg, you wet your lips, attempting to shake the thought of desire he seemed to be flooding you with and keep the car under control. His hand slowly started to progress further towards your heat and for the second time tonight, you weren't all that opposed to the thought of his long fingers curling inside you again.
"We're here," you managed to squeak out. George was already out and at your door before you had managed to undo your seatbelt. He bent down, reached over you and undid it for you, making sure to keep his contact with every inch of you he could. His arms scoped you up to carry you into the house and up the stairs to his room. You hadn't been to his room since you had met him. It was sort of like a secret law that it was off-limits and a privilege if you were invited inside. Not even his mom was allowed into the dwellings of his layer. You had just enough time to notice the picture on the dresser was of the two of you and your blend of cousins posed on the family couch last Christmas before your body was thrust on to the linen-covered mattress. You had never seen his eyes this shade before, they were so dark and full of lust. You were drinking in every detail of him just as much as he was of you.
"Take your clothes off," he stated smoothly standing at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on your body. Complying quickly, you unbuttoned your blouse, slipping it off your shoulders to reveal your flushed chest. George's eyes widened at the sight knowing you were already in such need of him you could barely contain yourself any longer. He slowly mimicked your actions removing his dress shirt leaving you in awe of the man standing before you and the endless possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. His fingers danced up your legs teasing your all too sensitive core. His fingers traced your center just barely being covered by the cloth entrapment. You were ready for anything he was willing to give you. His body shifted, his arm reaching across you into the bedside drawer and revealing a pair of bright red furry handcuffs. Your breath caught in your throat, this was not what you were expecting and still, you felt ready for George's idea of punishment. You had never been bound before, but were more than ready to try anything to overcome your excessive need for friction.
"Place your hands out in front of you," he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. You did as you were told feeling the faux material covered clasp around your wrists leaving your arms entirely under the command of George. You heard the clang of other cuffs being brought out, you turned your attention to him just as his lips crashed on to yours sealing your lips into a lustful kiss. His hands outlined your arms all the way to your wrists that were held together. His fingers wrapped around the metal pushing your arms above your head and locking them against the headboard. Your heart pounded with excitement as he traced your body down with kisses, brushing the inside of your thighs with his hands. You knew where this was leading and your body was ready. His actions halted just above where you needed him the most as he locked eyes with you almost teasing you with anticipation. "Tell me what you need," his dark tone murmured. You had no words. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The only action you were capable of was attempting to open your legs to answer his question.
His toned arms slipped under your legs wrapping around your hips as he positioned himself between you. Your toes curled in pleasure as his warm breath drew closer to you. It seemed as if time was in slow motion: you needed him and you needed him now. His eyes were still locked on yours as he came in contact with your heat. Your legs attempted to close in response to the feeling as you moaned in pain and pleasure from the restraints holding you back from grabbing his hair. The rumble of his laughter against you was almost enough to send you over the edge as he pushed your legs back open for better access to you. The sight of him down on you was more than enough to drive you crazy, but his pace was beginning to quicken and you didn't think you could last much longer. Your eyes drifted shut as pleasure was taking the better of you. George slipped a finger inside earning a gasp from your lips as he began to finger fuck you. Your high was approaching quickly and you needed more. "Faster," you mumbled.
"What was that sweetheart," George muttered against you.
"Faster," you begged. George complied, seeing you like this was driving him crazy. His fingers pounded into you as he sucked your nub. The knot in your stomach tightened. Finally, you were able to get relief from the tension George had built up all night as you released. "Oh fuck," you moaned as George hovered above you.
"Ready for round two love," he quipped darkly. You were more than happy to accept his rough kisses. His slight stubble was rough against your chin, you knew you'd pay for it in the morning, but tonight a little burn was the least of your worries. "Are you going to do as you're told," he whispered into your neck, accent gruff and domineering.
"Yes sir," you responded almost too naturally as his strong arms flipped you unto your stomach. He adjusted your knees underneath you so that you had support underneath him.
His hand wound into your hair as he slipped inside of you and began thrusting leaving you no time to adjust to him. Moans of pure bliss escaped your lips as his head neared yours. "Might want to keep quiet, love, someone's home," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear lobe. Your need to scream for more now had to be muted and the only sound heard was the slapping of his skin against yours. George used your hips as leverage for his unwavering pace leaving you a mess of pleasure beneath him. His lips found their way to your neck as he nipped against the sensitive skin. You wanted him to mark you, to claim you. His hand from your hair became wrapped around your throat as he began to reach his peak. His hand slapped your ass with such force you knew there was a handprint, but you were too overwhelmed with the noises escaping his lips and your high threatened to disobey your control to be concerned with the sting. If anything it threatened to push you over the edge. George could feel you threatening to release. His strong hand wrapped tightly around your neck again, "Don't cum until I give you permission," he mumbled darkly against your shoulder. You tried your best to obey him fighting all erg to give in to the pleasure he teased you with. Slowing his pace he thrust deeper into you earning quiet moans from your lips. You couldn't hold on much longer.
"Can I cum," you whined. George grunted in response tangling his hand in your hair and thrusting deeper into you hitting your sweet spot with every move.
"Cum for me love," he practically bit against your shoulder sending you into a scream of pleasure as you were finally able to ride out your high against him. You could feel him twitch inside of you filling you with warmth. He unchained your hands from the bed frame allowing your body to return to your back. He flopped next to you and kissed you lightly. "That was amazing," he whispered against your lips. Exhausted from the escapade of the night you simply laid your head on his chest in response and pulled the sheets up for the both of you to drift off to sleep.
Your head pounded as you opened your eyes, the blinding light streaming through your windows serving to ruin your morning. You shivered slightly, realizing you were fully naked and a slight panic set in as you thought about last night, your body already aching from George's tactics. You shut your eyes momentarily, thinking about him on top of you once again, moaning in your ear, his hand around your throat, and realized the aching was worth it. You weren't surprised when you found the bed beside you empty, your ears perking up at the muffled sounds of someone in the kitchen. You quickly got dressed and trampled down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, you were greeted by your father like he had the day before, only instead of a woman at the head of the table, George smirked up at you. Your eyes glued to his, your body feeling heat once again.
You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "I thought the bride and groom weren't supposed to see each other until the wedding?" You asked, voice slightly uneven as you took a seat across from George, gingerly sipping the orange juice in front of you and attempting not to wince at the beard burn on your chin from George's slight whiskers the night before. George watched you carefully, a flash of pride in his eyes at your flustered state.
George's mother chuckled. "There are worse things to doom a marriage," she joked, flashing a wink up towards your father who was cutting some kind of fruit.
He shook his head. "So, where did you two run off last night?"
Your breath caught in your throat. "Bonding," George answered coolly.
His mother raised her eyebrows. "Bonding? How? Wasn't she sick last night?"
Your mind was blank, but George was quick on his feet. "She got to feeling better on the way, so I took her to a strip club. She left with a man named," he paused, turning to you, a smug look on his face, "what was his name? Alejandro?"
Your eyes went wide with shock. "Ah! That's my girl!" Your dad called from over the stove and you groaned as George laughed making your eye twitching.
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