#Alex the protector | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackjolene · 1 year

Text

BioShock/Sinking City/Vampyr: The Return to Rapture

In summer of 1969, Jack, Liz, Tenenbaum, Porter, and Eleanor bid farewell to Masha, Leta, Sally, Daisy, Annabelle, Charles, Joy, and their friends before boarding the Mary Catherine and departing for Rapture. The second expedition to Rapture is larger in scope and in goal. The first expedition was meant to simply find and rescue the kidnapped little girls. This time around, a small fleet of vessels accompanies the Mary Catherine, their captains and crews paid well to keep quiet about their goal: To rescue the survivors of Rapture itself.

Their Forward Operating Base (FOB) will be Minerva’s Den; it is an ideal place thanks to its disconnection from Rapture and to its lack of splicers, courtesy of Porter. Hopefully, they will find it already set up as a base for them and with allies waiting for them.

Subject Sigma, Porter, wasn’t the only Alpha Series Big Daddy that Tenenbaum thawed out. There was another one, unique in that their designation wasn’t a Greek letter, but the name of a Greek deity: Subject “Artemis”.

While Delta was tearing through Sofia Lamb’s Family to get to Eleanor and Porter was working his way through Minerva’s Den, Subject Artemis was aiding Tenenbaum in rescuing Little Sisters and taking ADAM from the Family. In fact, Tenenbaum was able to make a unique Gene Tonic, “Master Protector”, for Porter from the ADAM Artemis took.

Prior to picking up Porter from his office in Minerva’s Den, Tenenbaum gave Artemis a mission to perform until she returned to Rapture with the ADAM cure: To do anything and everything to prepare for their return. The main directive of this was to find every unspliced survivor in Rapture and get them to Minerva’s Den for easy rescue. Also, Artemis was to gather supplies for them: Food, first aid kits, ammunition, ADAM, anything they or the survivors might need.

While the unspliced survivors are evacuated from Minerva’s Den to the Mary Catherine and the other ships waiting above, the five of them (Jack, Liz, Porter, Eleanor, and Artemis) will scour through the unflood buildings of Rapture for the Splicers. This time around, they will be utilizing non-lethal tactics to allow them to cure the splicers with SERPENT and then take them back to Minerva’s Den for evacuation to the surface. Once they’ve cured every remaining splicer in Rapture and evacuated every living person, Jack will activate the self-destruct from Ryan’s office and they’ll finally put his dream to rest as they rise to the surface.

Upon arriving at the Lighthouse, the Mary Catherine‘s radar and sonar systems pick up that Rapture’s defense system is still active (top of the line tech for Jolene Industries!), which makes using their new submersible to go directly to Minerva’s Den a DOA. With that little hiccup in their plan, it’s decided that they’ll go down the same way Jack did when he arrived in 1960, via the bathyspheres at the Lighthouse.

After a lengthy argument with Tenenbaum that she should wait on the Mary Catherine until they’ve disabled Rapture’s torpedoes (and also instructing the crew to not let Tenenbaum anywhere near the NEW submersible), Jack and Co. retrace his original steps into Rapture and descend via a bathysphere.

Andrew Ryan’s old introductory speech starts up just as before. About ten seconds into it, Eleanor tears the projector out of the wall. Everyone applauds.

When they arrive at the Welcome Center, Jack and Liz find that not much has changed in Rapture, other than it has decayed further and the banners that declared “No Gods or Kings, only Man” and “The Great will not be constrained by the small” have been torn down and replaced with graffiti that “Babylon is Fallen” and “We will be Reborn in the Cold Womb of the Ocean”. Even these though, are showing signs of neglect.

As they make their way through the Welcome Center (they have to make the hole in the Kashmir Restaurant’s restroom bigger for Porter to squeeze through), they find that it’s quiet, not the good kind of quiet. And the bodies, well, fresh bodies that they come across look like they’ve been torn apart by some kind of large animal.

In the Medical Pavilion, they find that a new kind of monster has moved in to replace Dr. Steinman’s madness. This creature is unlike anything they’ve ever seen, even in Rapture, like a Human candle whose skin and features have melted away to almost nothing, multiple octopus tentacles lining the arms, legs, back, and even protruding from their mouth and other orifices. Dr. Steinman would have been elated by the lack of symmetry.

Upon sensing them (it can’t see them as its eyes sockets boast tentacles instead of eyes), it attacks, its cry a horrible, wet, garbling sound. Despite her horror, Eleanor has enough presence of mind to freeze the creature’s feet to the floor to immobilize it and then shoot it with a dart of SERPENT. Rather than curing it, however, the SERPENT acts like an acid instead, dissolving the mutated splicer and killing it.

Moving on after a moment of processing, Jack and Co. move on, hoping that there’s nothing like this ahead of them. It goes unspoken, but everyone knows they’re not that lucky.

It doesn’t take long before they’re fighting for their lives against more of the things. The old types of splicers (Thugs, Leadheads, Spiders, Houdinis, and Nitros) have been replaced by new and far more horrifying kinds: Octopus, Crab, Fish, and some that are beyond classification. The one thing they all have in common is that they’re incredibly animalist, vicious, and brutal, and they’re out for blood.

The SERPENT darts are effective at killing the Mutants (”Splicers” doesn’t really cut it anymore) in one shots, but the dart guns can only kill with one shot. They left their guns on the Mary Catherine, and while their plasmids are effective, more and more of the creatures just keep on coming. Just when it looks like Jack and Co. are about to overrun and killed, aid arrives.

Gunfire interrupts the creatures advance as another Big Daddy enters the room, blazing away with a huge machine gun in one hand and its other using Incinerate! like a flamethrower. At its sides are two others who seem to wield some sort of teleportation plasmid, but nothing like the Houdini splicers. While the Big Daddy bulldozes his way through the Mutants, the other two prefer a more tactical approach. They select their targets, dart in, deal damage with either various melee weapons or guns, dart back out, dodge their targets attacks, repeat, occasionally mixing it up with strange plasmids that seem based on shadow or blood.

Between Jack, Liz, Porter, Eleanor, the new Big Daddy, and the two splicers(?), they are able to repel the Mutants and get to safety. Introductions are in order: Jack and Elizabeth Jolene, Charles Milton Porter, and Eleanor Reed give their names. The two newcomers introduce themselves as “Dr. Jonathan Reid” and “Lady Elizabeth Ashbury” (for all the plasmids they have, the closest thing that says “splicer” is the discoloration of the man’s eyes (slightly bloodshot)). The Big Daddy is none other than Subject Artemis.

When Eleanor hears Dr. Reid’s name, she recognizes it from her father’s memories. Back in the late 1800s, an Englishman with the surname Reid married “beneath his station” and then left for America rather than deal with his family’s criticism and High British society’s disdain. Somewhere along the way, the “i” in Reid was exchanged for a second “e”, making it “Reed”.

Right after World War I, back when it was the “Great War” or the “European War”, the Reeds in America learned about a member of their family back in Britain, a “Dr. Jonathan Emmet Reid”, who had disappeared shortly after arriving back in London during a particularly bad stretch of the Spanish Flu. Charles had wanted to honor a family member who was also a veteran of the First World War, and thus, “Jonathan Emmet Reed” had gotten his name.

Despite noticing Dr. Reid’s reaction to her (adopted) surname, Eleanor decides it’s best to hold off investigating possible familial relations. Besides, he can’t be “the” Dr. Jonathan Reid; that was forty years ago!

Dr. Reid and Lady Ashbury explain that they were investigating the origin of a Big Sister that was killed in London. The trail led them to Rapture, where they arrived shortly before Tenenbaum, Porter, and Eleanor escaped themselves. Having lost the chance to get out with them, Reid and Ashbury elected to help out Artemis with preparing for their return.

A little while afterwards, a man by the name of “Orrin Oscar Lutwidge” arrived in Rapture. From what they’ve learned of the man, he aided Andrew Ryan in building Rapture and keeping it a secret, only to become incensed when Ryan didn’t allow him to take up residence. He managed to come to Rapture by himself, only to find in the midst of its Civil War. He left prior to Jack’s own arrival, but has returned.

The first thing Orrin did was to bring order to the splicers by giving them ADAM from the corpse of Dr. Alexander “Alex the Great” Gilbert. With the former members of the Rapture Family now in his thrall, he sent them out to gather the bounty of Rapture for himself, so that he could bring its technological advances to the surface and make a fortune.

Something was greatly wrong with that ADAM, however. The splicers who took the ADAM from Alex the Great’s corpse became more and more aggressive, insane, and finally animalistic, their bodies mutating further into the monstrosities they’ve faced just now. Most splicers have become these Mutants, leaving few original splicers and unspliced individuals alive. The final de-evolution of Rapture has arrived.

Liz has an “episode” right there, just like when she was in Rapture trying to save Sally: A gothic city, its streets a confusing maze of twists and turns, its citizens either turned into slavering monsters or hiding in their homes in terror. A masked figure wearing a tricorn hat and armed with strange weapons is the only one to stand against the monsters in the end.

When Liz’s episode ends, she apologizes as Jack gives her a bandage to wipe off the blood leaking from her nose. She can’t help but notice Dr. Reid and Lady Ashbury’s eyes flicking to her nose before quickly looking away, an odd look like hunger in their eyes.

Orrin Lutwidge has sequestered himself in Arcadia. To protect himself from the Mutants, he has enlisted the services of the “Diamond Partners”, a group of veterans from the Rapture Civil War. They were part of Sinclair Solution’s “Home Consumer Rewards Program”, testing “products” for “home defense” during the war. The best of the best, they banded together after the war to work for the highest bidder. Right now, the highest bidder is Lutwdge and he’s getting out of Rapture, one way or another.

When Eleanor asks about the Big Sisters, she learns that after Sofia Lamb’s disappearance and the dissolution of the Rapture Family, the Big Sisters just up and left. They seem to have withdrawn into the old Little Sister’s Orphanages; anyone who goes into them, unspliced, spliced, or Mutant, is never seen again. Sometimes, they are heard though, screaming very briefly.

Thankfully, Subject Artemis, Dr. Reid, and Lady Ashbury have been largely successful in rescuing the unspliced survivors and escorting them to the safety of Minerva’s Den. There, they’ve gathered food, weapons, ammunition, first aid kits, and enough ADAM to splice an army.

Funnily enough, the Robotic Little Sisters from McClendon’s Robotics in Minerva’s Den have been great for that last job. Unlike the mindless Bouncers, Rosies, Rumblers, and Lancers, Alpha Series Big Daddies are perfect for this; they don’t need to be bonded to the Little Sister to protect them, and thus, the Little Sister doesn’t need to a little girl at all.

Right now, they all need to get to Andrew Ryan’s Office to shut off Rapture’s defenses. Otherwise, their evacuation is going to go very slowly. Also, they need Tenenbaum to come down and figure out how to alter SERPENT to be able to cure this new kind of ADAM, or make an entirely new cure altogether.

The good news is that Dr. Reed has been studying the new ADAM and has a good understanding of how it works and what they need a cure to be able to do. The bad news is that they don’t have much time; the Mutants are constantly evolving, and how long will it be until they develop fully-functioning gills and are able to leave Rapture without the aid of a submersible?

#bioshock #sinking city #vampyr #jack wyand #elizabeth dewitt #eleanor lamb #charles milton porter #dr jonathan reid #lady ashbury #minervas den #protector trials #bioshock 2 multiplayer #alex the great is dead #so are grace holloway and stanley poole #justice ending #theres a fourth game im referencing here #who can guess what it is?

7 notes · View notes

prosegalaxy · 3 months

Text

"Malleable Time and Twin Universes: The Quest for Equilibrium" This is the summary of your work so far: The human provides an outline of a fantasy story involving parallel universes, conflict between two groups, and an alternate history. The AI expands on this outline, describing a world where time is malleable and two parallel universes coexist in uneasy harmony. In one universe, the Resistance led by Victor aims to change history for a more equitable world, while in the other, the Protectors led by Elara wish to preserve their history. Alex and Dr. Sinclair discover a portal connecting the two worlds, leading to conflict and an uncertain future. The AI then creates a few paragraphs with dialogues under 250 words. In these paragraphs, Alex and Dr. Sinclair step through a portal into a parallel world where they encounter a conflict between two groups. They uncover secrets, forge alliances, and face unimaginable challenges in a world where time is malleable and history hangs delicately in the balance. The human then asks to create a few paragraphs with dialogues under 250 words. In these paragraphs, Alex and Dr. Sinclair encounter the heart of the conflict, and the secrets of the two groups begin to unravel. The AI expands the story based on the following prompt: In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an ethereal glow over the town of Willowbrook. Alex and Dr. Sinclair stood by the window, gazing at the breathtaking view. "Do you think we're alone in this universe?" Alex asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "No," Dr. Sinclair replied, turning to face her. "There are countless parallel universes out there, each with its own version of history and reality." He paused, considering his words. "Imagine if we could travel between them... the possibilities would be endless." Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room, and a mirror materialized before them. Alex reached out to touch it, her fingers barely grazing the surface. "This is it," she whispered, her voice echoing with awe. "The Mirror World." Dr. Sinclair nodded solemnly. "We must tread carefully. This world is not our own, and the people who live here are unaware of us." He glanced at his watch, realizing the gravity of their situation. "Time is running out. We need to find a way back before we're discovered." In the Mirror World, a figure stood in a dimly lit room, staring at an old, dusty map. Victor studied it intently, his mind racing with thoughts of the Resistance and their quest for change. "I must find them," he muttered to himself, his eyes locked on the map. Meanwhile, Elara led her group of Protectors through a dense forest, their mission clear: preserve the history they knew and loved. They were determined to defend their universe against all odds. "We're almost there," she whispered, her voice carrying determination. As both groups closed in on their destinations, tensions mounted. Alex and Dr. Sinclair, aware of the impending confrontation, prepared themselves for a battle they never anticipated. The two worlds collided, setting off a chain of events that would forever change them all. Dr. Sinclair and Alex stood in front of the ancient mirror, both feeling the strange energy it radiated. The room was filled with anticipation as they knew that stepping through could change their lives forever. "Are you sure about this, Alex?" Dr. Sinclair asked, his voice wavering slightly. "I've seen the evidence," Alex replied confidently. "This mirror can take us to another world." Taking a deep breath, they both stepped forward and found themselves in a completely different universe. The air was thick with magic as they marveled at their new surroundings. It wasn't long before they met Victor, the leader of the Resistance, who explained that this parallel world had been shaped by history taking a different course. "We need your help," Victor said earnestly. "The Protectors are trying to keep us trapped in this alternate reality, and we must change it back." Alex and Dr. Sinclair agreed to assist the Resistance, and together they began to uncover the secrets of their new world. They soon encountered Elara, the leader of the Protectors, who was determined to preserve her universe at all costs. "We can't let you interfere with our history," Elara warned. "Our world is just as real and valuable as yours." Despite their differing goals, Alex and Dr. Sinclair found themselves drawn to both leaders, struggling with the implications of their choices. As the tension mounted between the Resistance and the Protectors, a major battle loomed on the horizon. With their newfound friends caught in the crossfire, Alex and Dr. Sinclair knew they had to make a decision – and fast. "We must find a way to end this conflict," Dr. Sinclair declared. "For the sake of both worlds." As the battle raged around them, Alex and Dr. Sinclair fought alongside their friends, hoping to forge a path towards peace. But as the dust settled and the smoke cleared, the fate of both universes remained uncertain, leaving readers to wonder what would become of the characters they had come to know and love. Alex stumbled upon an ancient mirror, hidden away in his grandmother's attic. Curiosity got the better of him, and he approached it cautiously. As he gazed into the reflection, he felt a strange sensation, like his body was being pulled through a void. Suddenly, he found himself standing in a completely different place - a world that seemed strangely familiar yet vastly different from his own. Dr. Sinclair, an experienced historian and scientist, had dedicated her life to studying the possibility of parallel universes. When she heard about Alex's incredible story, she knew she had to investigate further. Together, they ventured into this alternate reality, where history had taken a drastically different course. In this new world, they encountered two opposing groups: the Resistance and the Protectors. The Resistance, led by Victor, sought to change their reality, while the Protectors, under the command of Elara, wished to preserve their own universe's history. As Alex and Dr. Sinclair observed the escalating conflict between these groups, they realized that they had stumbled upon a momentous event in the history of multiple universes. "We can't just stand by and let this happen," Dr. Sinclair whispered to Alex. "We have to find a way to stop them." As they watched the two factions prepare for a major battle, Alex and Dr. Sinclair knew that their decision had far-reaching consequences - not only for the alternate reality they were now in, but also for their own universe's future. In a thrilling climax, both universes witnessed the monumental clash between the Resistance and the Protectors. The outcome of this battle would shape the course of history for all parallel worlds. However, as the dust settled and the smoke cleared, the fate of both realities remained uncertain, leaving readers to imagine their own conclusions. Alex stared at the shimmering portal before him, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been searching for this moment all his life, and now it was finally here. With a deep breath, he stepped through the portal, finding himself in a world where history had taken a different course. "Welcome, Alex," Dr. Sinclair greeted him from across the room, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "This is truly the Mirror World." As they explored the alternate reality, Alex and Dr. Sinclair came across two groups locked in conflict: the Resistance, led by a charismatic man named Victor, who sought to change their reality, and the Protectors, led by a fierce warrior named Elara, who wished to preserve the history of their universe. "We must help them find a way to coexist," Alex whispered to Dr. Sinclair, concern etching his face. "Their worlds are too entwined to simply walk away." "I agree, but it won't be easy," Dr. Sinclair replied, her voice low and full of determination. "We must tread carefully, for both universes hang in the balance." As they worked to mediate the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair found themselves caught up in a whirlwind of emotions and danger. The climax of their efforts came in a massive battle between the two groups, leaving both worlds uncertain and hanging by a thread. As they stood amidst the wreckage, Alex turned to Dr. Sinclair, his voice barely above a whisper. "We've done what we can, but the outcome remains uncertain." Dr. Sinclair nodded, her eyes reflecting the same uncertainty. "The future of both worlds lies in the hands of those who inhabit them, and only time will tell what comes next." The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the city. In this parallel universe, history had taken an alternate course. The Resistance, led by Victor, sought to change their reality, while the Protectors, under Elara's command, wished to preserve their own world's history. As tension mounted between the two groups, Alex and Dr. Sinclair found themselves caught in the midst of a brewing conflict. "We need to make them understand," Alex whispered to Dr. Sinclair, "that our worlds can't afford this war." Dr. Sinclair nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon as the sound of distant clashes grew nearer. "It may already be too late," he murmured, gripping his pistol tightly. "But we must try." As they ventured deeper into enemy territory, the two stumbled upon a secret meeting between Victor and Elara. The air was thick with tension as they listened in on their conversation. "We can't let them change our history," Victor growled, his voice fierce. "It is our duty to protect what we know." "And we won't allow you to destroy ours!" Elara retorted, her eyes flashing with determination. Alex and Dr. Sinclair exchanged glances, knowing they had to intervene. With a surge of courage, Alex stepped forward. "Please," he pleaded, "you don't have to be enemies. We can find a way to coexist." The two leaders stared at him, their expressions unreadable. Dr. Sinclair took a deep breath and joined Alex in his appeal. "Think of the lives you're risking," he urged, "and consider what we could achieve together." As the words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled over the group. The potential for change was palpable, but so too was the uncertainty of their future. In a world where time is a malleable concept and the boundaries between realities are as thin as the veil of dreams, two parallel universes coexist in uneasy harmony. One universe, let's call it Earth-A, is governed by the Resistance, led by the enigmatic Victor. Their mission: to alter the course of history in a bid to create a more equitable world. In this alternate reality, the power dynamics are flipped, and the Protectors, under Elara's guidance, are the oppressed. They strive to preserve their universe's history at all costs. In Earth-B, Alex and Dr. Sinclair stumble upon a hidden portal that bridges the gap between these two worlds. As they traverse this newfound connection, they find themselves embroiled in a conflict neither understood nor wanted. Their initial encounters are marked by shock and disbelief as they witness the stark contrasts in their respective realities. Alex, an idealist at heart, is drawn to the Resistance's cause, while Dr. Sinclair, a scientist through and through, focuses on understanding the science behind this miraculous phenomenon. In an attempt to mediate the conflict between the Resistance and the Protectors, Alex and Dr. Sinclair propose a truce, a dialogue across dimensions. However, their efforts are met with skepticism and resistance from both sides. The tension mounts as the two universes inch closer towards a climactic confrontation, leaving both worlds uncertain about their future. In a twist of fate, the battle lines are blurred, and the outcome hangs precariously in balance, as the characters grapple with the moral implications of altering history and risking their own existence. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an otherworldly glow over the city, Alex paced nervously in the dimly lit laboratory. He had spent countless hours studying the strange energy that seemed to connect his world with another parallel universe. The lab's doors were sealed tight, but he could feel the hum of the portal growing stronger. Dr. Sinclair, a seasoned scientist, observed Alex's unease with a mixture of concern and fascination. "You must trust in your training, Alex," she whispered. "We must understand this connection fully before we make any decisions." Alex paused, his eyes meeting Dr. Sinclair's reassuring gaze. "I know, but... I can sense something over there. A conflict brewing between two groups. It's like the very fabric of time is bending and twisting around us." "Interesting," Dr. Sinclair mused. "Perhaps we'll have a chance to observe this conflict firsthand. Maybe even use it to our advantage." As if on cue, a sudden surge of energy ripped through the air, and Alex felt a shiver down his spine. A portal materialized before them, revealing the shadowy outlines of figures in the distance. "Quickly, Dr. Sinclair! We must see what's happening!" The two scientists exchanged looks, then stepped through the shimmering veil into the unknown. And so began their journey through parallel universes, where they would uncover secrets, forge alliances, and face unimaginable challenges in a world where time was malleable and history hung delicately in the balance. In the malleable world of time, two parallel universes coexist in uneasy harmony. The Resistance, led by Victor, strives to change history for a more equitable world, while the Protectors, led by Elara, seek to preserve their own version of history. Through the discovery of a portal, Alex and Dr. Sinclair step between worlds, setting in motion a conflict that will shake both universes to their core. As they navigate the treacherous landscape of the parallel universe, Alex and Dr. Sinclair encounter the heart of the conflict, and the secrets of the two groups begin to unravel. "The time you know is but one of many possible times," whispered Dr. Sinclair as they stood before the portal. "We must be cautious in our actions, lest we cause irreparable damage." Alex nodded, his eyes widening as he observed the parallel world. "Look at this place! It's like two worlds living side by side, but just a breath apart," he said. Victor and Elara, leaders of their respective groups, met them in the other universe. Their tension was palpable, but they shared a common goal - to protect their worlds. "The balance between our histories is delicate," explained Victor. "But we must be willing to fight for what we believe in." As alliances were formed and challenges faced, Alex and Dr. Sinclair came to understand the gravity of their actions. Their choices would shape the future of both worlds, and the consequences could be immeasurable. They had become pawns in a game of time, where every move mattered. The clock was ticking, and only through unity could they hope to save both universes from the brink of destruction. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. Victor's voice echoed through the air, his determination clear. "We must change our history for the betterment of all." Elara, on the other hand, stood resolute in her belief. "Our history is precious, and we cannot risk losing it." Alex looked between the two, trying to understand their perspective. Dr. Sinclair, with a knowing smile, said, "Understanding each other's viewpoint may be our only chance at peace." As time seemed to bend and sway around them, Alex asked Victor, "What specific changes do you seek?" Victor replied, "I want equality for all, regardless of their background or abilities. We must learn from our mistakes and create a world where everyone can thrive." Elara listened carefully, her eyes filled with both determination and sorrow. "We cannot ignore the lessons of our past," she countered. "Change may be necessary, but it should not erase who we are." Dr. Sinclair, ever the mediator, interjected. "Can we find common ground? A middle path where history is respected, and progress is made?" Victor hesitated, then nodded slowly. Elara, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, agreed. "We must work together to find that balance." As the siblings took their first steps towards unity, the malleability of time seemed to lessen, offering a glimpse of a future where history and progress could coexist harmoniously. The portal led Alex and Dr. Sinclair into a world where time was malleable, and two parallel universes coexisted in uneasy harmony. In one universe, Victor led the Resistance, striving for a more equitable history. In the other, Elara commanded the Protectors, desperate to preserve their known past. The siblings' bond challenged both groups, leading to a fragile truce as the balance of history remained uncertain. "What if we could change history?" Victor asked, his voice filled with hope. "Imagine a world where everyone had an equal chance." Elara scoffed. "History is not something to be tampered with. We must learn from our past and move forward." Alex interjected, "But if we could change history for the better, wouldn't that be worth it?" Dr. Sinclair shook his head. "Altering history would create unpredictable consequences. We can never truly know what might happen." In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In these paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history. Alex and Dr. Sinclair marveled at how every decision, every action had ripples that could change the course of events in both universes. They knew they were standing on a precipice, where the slightest move could alter the very fabric of their realities. The uncertainty of time's flow made them cautious but resolute, as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. ``` In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. ``` In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. Victor's voice trembled with emotion as he said, "Elara, we are family. Can't you see that our fight is tearing us apart?" Elara clenched her fists, trying to suppress her own emotions. "The world has changed, Victor," she whispered. "And some things must remain the same." Dr. Sinclair stepped forward, placing a hand on each sibling's shoulder. "We can find a middle ground, a way to preserve what is important while still allowing for progress," he suggested. Alex looked at him, her eyes filled with hope. "But how?" she asked. "By understanding our shared history and learning from it," Dr. Sinclair replied. "Together, we can create a future that honors the past without being bound by it." He turned to Victor and Elara. "Your family's story is a testament to the power of change. Let it inspire you to find a way forward, for both your worlds and yours." As the siblings stood in silence, Alex and Dr. Sinclair could see the gears turning in their minds. They knew that the path to unity would not be easy, but they were ready to face the challenges head-on. With a newfound determination, Victor and Elara took a step towards each other, their fingers brushing as they reached out for the first time in years. "We are family," Elara whispered, her voice filled with hope. "And together, we can change our world." In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the parallel universes that coexisted in uneasy harmony. Time was malleable here, and the line between past, present, and future blurred like mist. In one universe, the Resistance led by Victor fought to change history for a more equitable world, while in the other, the Protectors led by Elara sought to preserve their version of history. Alex and Dr. Sinclair stumbled upon a portal connecting the two worlds, an unexpected and dangerous discovery. As they stepped through, they found themselves in the heart of the conflict between Victor's Resistance and Elara's Protectors. The siblings were separated by fate, yet their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies: Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve her known history. "We must find a way to unite them," Dr. Sinclair whispered to Alex, her eyes filled with determination. "Their bond could be the key to ending this conflict." "Agreed," Alex replied, his voice firm and resolute. "Let's approach Victor first." They approached the Resistance encampment, where Victor listened intently as they explained their mission. "I see why you're here, but how can we trust you?" he asked skeptically. "Because your cause is just," Alex responded. "We believe in what you're fighting for. We want to help, but we need your cooperation." Victor paused, considering their words. "Very well, I will hear you out. But know that trust must be earned." With Victor's cautious agreement, they set out to find Elara. As they neared the Protectors' camp, Alex whispered to Dr. Sinclair, "We must tread carefully. They may not welcome us as openly as the Resistance did." Dr. Sinclair nodded, understanding the gravity of their mission. As they entered the camp, Elara studied them closely. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice cold and unyielding. "We wish to forge an alliance between your groups," Alex replied. "Time is malleable here, and we must work together to maintain the balance of history." Elara's eyes narrowed, but she listened intently. "Why should I trust you?" "Because our goals are aligned," Dr. Sinclair answered. "We all want peace and stability in both worlds. Let us work together to achieve that." After a tense moment, Elara replied, "Very well, we shall hear your proposal. But remember, we are cautious for good reason." With the fragile truce in place, Alex and Dr. Sinclair continued their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. The malleable nature of time only served to make them more cautious but resolute, as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. ```markdown "I never thought I'd see the day when we'd be working together," Alex said, staring at the siblings across the table. Victor leaned forward. "We never thought we'd be on opposite sides of this fight." Dr. Sinclair took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This is bigger than us. Time itself is changing, and we need to find a way to stabilize it." Elara looked at her brother with concern. "We've both seen the consequences of altering history, Victor. Let's find a way to work together and ensure a balanced future." Together, they began to forge alliances, unravel the mysteries of their malleable world, and face challenges that tested their resolve. Through it all, Alex and Dr. Sinclair remained steadfast in their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the fate of two universes hung precariously in their hands. ``` In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. ```vbnet Victor: "We cannot change history, Alex. Our world has suffered enough because of past mistakes." Alex: "But if we don't change anything, more people will suffer, Victor. We can make things better!" Elara: "The past is set in stone, Dr. Sinclair. To alter it would be to risk everything we know and love." Dr. Sinclair: "The balance of history hangs delicately in the balance. We must tread carefully." Victor: "We must fight for a better world, even if it means challenging the past." Elara: "We are family, Victor. Can't you see that our differences only make us stronger?" Alex: "Time is malleable, but we still have to be cautious about what we change and when." Dr. Sinclair: "Let's work together to build a future where everyone can thrive, no matter which side of the divide they're on." ``` In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. ``` Alex and Dr. Sinclair found themselves in a world where the malleable nature of time had created two parallel universes. In one universe, Victor led the Resistance, seeking to change history for a more equitable world. In the other, Elara led the Protectors, determined to preserve their history as they knew it. The siblings' bond and shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a better future, while Elara wanted to protect the history she knew. This revelation forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, the balance of history remained uncertain as time was still malleable. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. ``` In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. In a hushed whisper, Victor shared with Alex, "Elara and I were once inseparable, but fate cruelly tore us apart. We grew up in two different worlds, each with its own history and reality." Elara, overhearing the exchange, added, "Victor's world was a place of strife and inequality, while mine offered prosperity and justice for all. It's no wonder we've come to see our paths so differently." Dr. Sinclair interjected, "But what if we could find a middle ground? What if we could create a world that honors both the lessons of your pasts while paving the way for a brighter future?" The siblings exchanged glances, acknowledging the weight of the challenge before them. With determination in her eyes, Elara stated, "Perhaps there is hope after all. Let us work together to bridge our worlds and make them places where everyone can thrive." Victor nodded in agreement, and together they set out on a journey to reshape their realities and redefine the course of history. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. The human has asked for a story expansion, which involves adding more content and developing characters. In order to do this, I will create dialogues and scenes that delve deeper into the characters and their motivations. As Alex and Dr. Sinclair stepped through the portal, they found themselves in a world where time was malleable and two parallel universes coexisted in uneasy harmony. The Resistance, led by Victor, sought to change history for a more equitable world, while the Protectors, led by Elara, wished to preserve their history. As the duo navigated this new world, they encountered the heart of the conflict - Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies: Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. Their discoveries forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time remained malleable, and the balance of history was still uncertain. Alex and Dr. Sinclair were cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices. As Alex and Dr. Sinclair stepped through the portal, they found themselves in a world where time was malleable and two parallel universes coexisted in uneasy harmony. The Resistance, led by Victor, sought to change history for a more equitable world, while the Protectors, led by Elara, wished to preserve their history. In this world of shifting sands, Alex and Dr. Sinclair faced unimaginable challenges as they navigated between the two groups, trying to understand the heart of the conflict. "We must tread carefully," Dr. Sinclair warned as they approached a gathering of the Resistance. "This is dangerous territory." "I know," Alex replied, her eyes scanning the landscape. "But we need to find out more about these two groups and their leaders." As they drew closer, they overheard Victor and Elara arguing. The siblings' shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. Their sibling rivalry was a microcosm of the conflict between the Resistance and the Protectors. "They're not so different," Alex whispered to Dr. Sinclair, trying to make sense of it all. "But their beliefs are." The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, Alex and Dr. Sinclair witnessed the malleable nature of time continue to affect the balance of history, making them cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. "We have to be careful," Dr. Sinclair said, watching the world shift around them. "Our choices will shape the future." "I know," Alex replied. "Let's continue our quest for equilibrium." They vowed to keep moving forward, knowing that the outcome would be shaped by their choices and understanding that the fate of both universes hung in the balance. In the heart of the conflict, Alex and Dr. Sinclair discovered that Victor and Elara were siblings separated by fate. Their shared past revealed the reason behind their opposing ideologies - Victor sought change for a more equitable world, while Elara wanted to preserve the history she knew. The siblings' bond forced both groups to reassess their positions, leading to a fragile truce. However, time was still malleable, and the balance of history remained uncertain. In the following paragraphs, the malleable nature of time continued to affect the balance of history, making Alex and Dr. Sinclair cautious but resolute as they understood the weight of their actions and decisions. They vowed to continue their quest for equilibrium, knowing that the future was in their hands, and the outcome would be shaped by their choices.

#parallel #universes #time #malleability #Resistance #and #Protectors #Alex #D #Sinclair #conflict #resolution #sibling #connectio

0 notes

isobel-thorm · 5 months

Text

More CoD Extended Family stuff:

When "Farah Jr" is about three, all the boys get territorial about Favorite Uncle status. Sure, hands down Aunt Farah gets the Best Aunt Title, but Dean and Soap always argue about it, Gaz tries to get in on the action mostly to mess with them, but hey, Farah Jr is adorable, he wouldn't mind that honor, then they all put their heads together and decide she's probably going to love Price the most.

Meanwhile, in the background, Farah Jr is borderline scaling Ghost just to use his arms as monkey bars, talking nonsense about her day while he pretends to be interested.

The Boys eventually see this and realize they don't have a goddamn chance against Uncle Ghost.

#Alex wanted it to be Gaz. He won't lie.#Kali's just happy her daughter's got a small army of protectors

1 note · View note

fairwellersmustache · 1 year

Text

Was planning on working on my fun regency story today, but I just finished the Parasol Protectorate series by Gail Carriger (big reccommend if you haven’t read it) and felt that she skimped out on some good angst vis à vis Biffy’s whole situation, so I think I’m going to write some one shots following Biffy’s arch in the series

#see Alex write #parasol protectorate #sandalio de rabiffano

0 notes

obsidianas · 1 year

Text

and with being freed of corruption i think she could, in part, see some of the wrongs of her flight (and of deathwing and onyxia, both of who she idolized). but i don't think she's ever apologetic, or guilty, or regretful about (most) of her actions, because she did what she had to do to survive, and to fight for her flight's survival. corruption doesn't have as much to do with it as the enmity and hatred they had to face from all sides. in her small appearance in canon, she outright calls alex and korial hypocrites for not caring to help

The Scourge comes. Korialstrasz calls upon his allies in a futile attempt to save their Ruby Dragonshrine, but it seems the good graces of the red flight don't extend to saving the shrines of the other flights. Surprised? I'm not.

There is another of my brood who has left to clear our Obsidian Dragonshrine and the undead vermin that now infest it. All it would take to prove yourself more noble and righteous than Alexstrasza herself is a quick jaunt over there and a few swings of a blade.

she resents the other flights deeply not just by their inaction, but because the action they took was to hunt down the corrupted, which is also a reason why she'd hate wrathion even if she hadn't been one of his targets. there was never any help to be had, only judgment and sentence passed on them for what they were. it made her bitter. she doesn't regret cruelty against other flights, or against mortals who took so much of her flight too (and who were often seen as more worthy of help than her kin). so sure, freed of corruption i think she can see much more clearly deathwing went insane and was going to end them all, and not all of onyxia's ideas are actually sound, and not everything in her flight's history is a legacy to be proud of and fight for, but it doesn't change she's willing to be violent and cruel and ruthless because those were not a result of corruption but traits she developed to survive an utterly hostile environment from a young age. and although i just made that super long post about the black dragonflight leadership situation, i think she only cares because it's about her kin, her family, the last people who give her any semblance of belonging and understand truly and completely all she went through - but that when it comes to interacting with or allying with other flights she couldn't care less, she doesn't want them restored to their place with the other dragons or whatever. the other dragons never did anything to help them.

#it's the way she resents the other flights even more than mortals tbh #and alex most of all. if they ever interacted in dragonflight nalice would not treat her as a queen #» character study — ⌜a burning fire and a violent tongue.⌟#the 'surprised? i'm not' bit gets to me bc it's so small #but also so very telling that on her experience it is the norm that the reds would leave them to die #even if to the rest of the world they present themselves as nurturing and as protectors of all life #and she hates their hypocrisy and she hates them #SORRY I'M DEEP IN MY FEELS FOR HER TODAY #» out of character — ⌜number one elf apologist.⌟

1 note · View note

flowerxbunnie · 2 months

Note

Tattoo artist matt 🫦 and he’s praising the reader and telling her she’s taking it really well 🫦🫦 and she gets addicted to it and keeps coming back for more tattoos 🫦🫦🫦 and he’s like ‘wow you’re single-handedly paying my bills, this one’s on the house’ 🫦🫦🫦🫦 and she’s like ‘no, i gotta pay you.’ 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 i think you know where i’m going with this

ps I love you 💋

Ink

Tattoo artist!Matt x Fem Reader

Warnings: needles, blood, pain, tension, no smut (yet?? 😏) but veryyyyyy suggestive at times

6.3k words

Your skin is tender and raw, a soft wince drawn from your mouth as your tattoo artist wipes the excess ink with a rough paper towel.

“So proud of this one,” Alex beams as she scoots back in her chair, the wheels rolling her towards her supply cart. She grabs a roll of plastic wrap and some tape before using her feet to roll back toward your chair. “Let’s get you all wrapped up.”

“It turned out so good, dude.” You say in awe as you hold your arm out to her.

“Did you expect any less?” She jokes, wrapping the wound snugly and taping it up before shooting you a smile. “All done. Keep the wrap on for a few hours. It’ll be a little leaky, that’s normal. Wash once a day with unscented soap… blah blah blah you know the drill. Still legally obligated to tell you.” She chuckles at the end, standing up to throw away her stained gloves. “Come up to the desk whenever you’re ready.” She says before she turns on her feet and heads to the front of the shop.

You stand up and gather your belongings feeling the adrenaline rush a new tattoo always seems to bring out of you. Your arm pulses and slightly burns, a sensation you’d become addicted to over the past couple of years. You’re not covered in ink by any means, but you’ve gotten your fair share, all done by Alex.

You love the way her shop feels more like a home than a sterile clinical office. Tapestries are hung haphazardly across the walls, strings of fairy lights sprawl across the ceilings and there’s more weird little knick-knacks strewn about than you could ever imagine counting. Your favorite is the preserved butterflies she has in shadow boxes lined down the hallway.

Once you gather your keys and bag, you take the walk to the front and admire all the sketches pinned along the walls. Alex is waiting for you with a warm smile as she tells you the total. You sit your bag down and rummage for your wallet, gathering the money along with a generous tip as always.

“You want the change back?” She asks as she counts the bills.

“Just take the fucking tip Alex.” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” she chuckles humbly, shaking her head as she sorts the cash into her vintage register.

“I know I don’t have to,” you laugh, tossing your wallet back into your bag, “I want to.”

You grab the strap of your bag and throw it across your shoulder, knocking a binder off the counter in the process. You let out a quiet curse as you bend down to pick it up, flipping it over to look at the cover.

“Oh, you should look through that!” Alex chimes in excitedly. “It’s a bunch of flash pieces that are up for grabs. They’re going quick, you should pick one out!”

“Oh nice..” you thumb through the pages, studying the intricate artwork tucked behind sheet protectors. “These are so good Alex..”

“You think?” She asks, bending down to restock her glass display cabinet with more tattoo salve.

You turn page after page, seeing traditional pieces like tigers and roses, more abstract watercolor pieces and some random goofy sketches of cartoon characters. You stop when you come across a snake separated into segments with the word ‘collarbone’ scratched underneath of it.

“This one is so detailed,” you say, running your fingers across the sheet protector. “Why’s it all broken up like that?”

Alex stands back up to her feet and looks over the page, her brows furrowing a bit as she adjusts her glasses. “Oh, it’s because it’s made to look like it’s wrapping around your collarbone. Like it’s going into your skin kinda.”

“Oh, sick,” You say excitedly, “I’ll take that one then. When can you get me in?”

“That’s not mine, girl. That’s the new guy’s design. You may have seen him here before? He transferred here like three…ish months ago?” She rambles as she sorts through a stack of paperwork.

You think back, not recalling seeing a different face in the shop. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone new. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been here and you usually get me in and out.” You pull the binder closer and admire the tiny detailing of the snake skin. “He looks pretty good.. but I don’t know if I can cheat on you.” You sigh jokingly.

“Honestly, he’s fucking amazing. His card is right there if you wanna make an appointment.” She points to a carousel of different artists’ cards. “Matt… the black card.. yep that’s it.”

You stick the matte black card in your bag and give Alex a humorous warning glare. “If he fucks my tattoo up Alex I swear to god.”

“Just make the appointment, Y/n. He’ll do good, promise. Why would I hire someone whose work I don’t trust?” She laughs and steps out from behind the counter, walking towards the door. “Now get out of my shop, I need to rest my eyes.” She laughs as she pulls the door open.

——————

You dig through your bag, pulling out hair ties, loose sticks of gum and countless receipts as you search for your favorite chapstick. “I swear I left it in here,” you think out loud, gasping as your finger slides across the corner of something sharp. You pull your hand back, sucking back a curse and see a tiny paper cut on your finger, laughing at the fact that something so small can hurt so bad. You reach back in and grab the culprit, a black sturdy rectangular card.

Fuck. It’s been 3 days.

You look over the card.

Matt Sturniolo

Appointments by text.

Come get somethin’ nice!

You pull out your phone and create a new contact, typing the 10 digit number slowly and double checking, making sure you got every single one right. You let out a sigh that you’ve been holding back, deciding to drop your worries, bite the bullet and make the appointment.

Alex won’t care, she doesn’t mind. She wants me to.

He thinks I’m a guy, funny, you think to yourself, locking your phone and sitting it on the counter.

—————

The week comes and goes, the same mundane routine dragging you through the creeping days. It’s finally Friday, meaning you’re risking the integrity of your skin on an artist you’ve never even met before, let alone vetted his work. Sure, he can draw a sketch but can he execute it just as well into your skin? The entire drive to the shop you shuffle through your playlist while your fingers absentmindedly tap against the steering wheel, mind racing with every possible outcome.

You sit in the parking lot, nerves at an all time high as you scroll through TikTok trying to numb your brain while the minutes pass. You quickly peek up to the clock on your dashboard, heaving a sigh.

5:32.

Fuck. I still have way too much time.

You groan quietly and put your phone down in your cupholder, leaning your head back against the headrest and close your eyes. Your left foot taps slowly against the footrest in your floorboard, creating a steady rhythm, pulsing along with your music that quietly hums in the speakers. You pick your head back up and grip the steering wheel with a huff, tracing your hands up and down around the warm leather.

Your eyes follow passersby as they stroll and pace down the sidewalk, essentially people watching. Your hand somehow makes its way to your mouth without realizing, your nails picking and pulling at the skin of your lips habitually. You only notice when you taste the bitter metallic flavor of blood on your tongue, silently scolding yourself as you pull down your vanity mirror.

You lick the wound and pull your sore bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly hyperaware of the shriveled, dehydrated state they’re in. Leaning across your car to reach for the glovebox, you pull it open and grab the lip oil you leave in your car for moments like this. You shut the glovebox and center yourself in the reflection of the mirror, opening the tube and applying a much too generous amount of the gloss to your lips. You smack and pucker your lips, appreciating the way they seem to come back to life, plump and slightly tinted.

You look to the side as you run your finger against the corner of your mouth, cleaning up your work. A small blackboard that sits outside the door of the shop catches your attention, propped up and smeared with chalked in words. It lists the information for an upcoming tattoo fair, has random small sketches littering the board, and lists a social media account near the bottom.

Why haven’t I ever thought of that?

You pick your phone up out of the cupholder after you slam your mirror shut, clicking the Instagram icon and typing the handle into the search bar. You click on the account, seeing that Alex’s individual account is linked at the top as well as a piercer, Darren, who you’ve met a couple of times. You scroll down through the feed, seeing copious photo collages of fresh versus healed ink and videos with music edited into the background, featuring Alex working her magic in the shop.

You scroll past a reel of Alex promoting a clean brand of tattoo healing balms, your finger coming to a still as you land on a video of a man hunched in his chair, his body leaning over as he works a tattoo gun into someone’s leg. You can’t make out much of him from the video, but he’s clad in a stone washed black t-shirt and jeans littered with ink stains. Tattoos sprawl across his left arm that pulls at the person’s skin, holding it steady as he moves the dripping needle back and forth. Though his face isn’t visible, you notice his wispy, umber brown hair that falls forward as he works. Light catches the strands and outlines each wave as they cascade over his brow bone. Scrolling down, you read the caption.

“Matt may be new but he is making himself well known in the shop! Text him to book, slots are filling up fast!”

You scroll further and find more pieces done by Matt but can’t seem to find a tagged account. Your shot nerves are soothed a bit as you examine each flawless piece of art, every one of them so perfect it’s almost like a printed photo taped to skin. You can’t deny that the man is talented. You scroll down until you reach the very first photo that mentions his name, dated three months ago just like Alex had said.

Maybe I do trust him.

You break yourself from the distraction of your phone and check the time again, quickly fixing yourself in the mirror as you realize you need to head in immediately. Your soft fingers brush down the wild flyaways in your hair in an attempt to look as put together as possible. Grabbing the handle of your bag and slinging it across your shoulder, you turn off the ignition and step out of your car, making sure to lock the doors behind you.

You feel the ground beneath your feet meeting your body in shockwaves with each step you take towards the familiar building. In the reflection of the glass you watch your figure grow closer. You let out one last deep exhale as you grip the iron handle, pulling it open and feeling the cool air shoot across your skin.

As you step in and the door falls closed behind you, you take notice that the front desk is unoccupied. Distinct chatter can be heard over the music playing in the studio just down the hall and past the foyer, deep rumbling tones that you can’t piece together. You’re familiar enough with the shop that you feel comfortable going back without a so-called escort, so you grip the handle on your shoulder and begin the walk down the dimly lit hallway.

The walls open up into the studio and the music is so loud it almost vibrates your skin. You step closer to the source of the voices, one of them being the piercer you’re familiar with. He stands talking expressively with his hands to another man who sits with his back facing you, arms behind his head as he leans back into his chair.

“Is Matt here?” You question, looking around the rest of the studio.

The men continue on with their conversation, completely unaware you’d even said anything over the racket of the rock music. Clearing your throat, you step forward, just about six feet away from them at this point and speak up once again.

“Is anyone working the desk right now?”

The piercer turns his head to face you and the man in the chair spins around, planting his feet to stop himself.

His blue eyes catch your attention first, so bright the gaze is almost difficult to keep. But you do, and so does he. He drops his hands down from the back of his head, one of his arms coming to lay on the armrest of his chair and the other stroking the stubble that peppers his chin. The tattoos across his left arm in contrast to the blank one on the right tell you that this is your guy, this is Matt.

What you don’t know is how he feels his blood pumping hot at the sight of you. He does his best to keep his eyes above your shoulders, but he can’t help letting them wander down your supple, shining skin, immediately thinking about how soft it must be. Matt sees so many women everyday, some in very compromising positions, but just the sight of you standing in front of him has made him feel weak. The way you look so innocent and bright, juxtaposing the way you’re standing in front of his sketches of skulls and anatomically correct organs being feasted on by animals.

You feel a wave of awkward silence even through the intense bass sounding through the speakers. You ask once again if anyone is working the front desk, but your voice struggles to overpower the volume. You see Matt’s cheeks pull up into a chuckle as he reaches back around to the table, fishing for his phone and clicking the volume down considerably.

You huff, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice as you repeat yourself for the fourth time. “Is anyone working the front?”

“I’m sorry honey, we don’t take walk ins.” He rasps as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “You’ll need to make an appointment.”

“I have one.” You retort, resting your weight on one of your legs.

The bearded man walks away to his piercing station, leaving the two of you in a sort of awkward staredown.

“Alex is out today, and I’m expecting a guy to be walking in any minute for my next appointment. Are you sure yours was for today?” He asks smoothly.

“You’re Matt right?”

His shoulders tense when you say his name, but he relaxes them as he nods his head. “Yeah, I’m Matt.”

“Oh, well then yeah.. I’m Y/n. Collarbone snake for 6 o’clock.” You clarify, pulling out your phone to ensure you had the date and time right.

His eyes widen and he silently scolds himself for assuming something so bold while being utterly wrong.

“Yeah, here it is.” You turn your phone to face him, stepping closer.

“I must have been tipsy when I replied or something,” he laughs and sits up in his chair, running his hands through his hair to soothe his embarrassment. “I assumed you’d be a dude for some reason.”

“No, at least not since the last time I checked.” You giggle, tossing your phone into your crowded bag.

His laugh gives you a sense of satisfaction, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he catches his breath. “Shit, that’s my bad then.” He says while pushing himself up to stand, his arms flexing under the tight sleeves of his shirt.

“No worries.” You give him a genuine smile, not wanting him to feel any more embarrassed than you can already tell he is from his flushed cheeks.

He steps forward with a long stride, his frame much larger and taller than you expected once he passes you to head to the hallway. He tries to ignore the way his pulse quickened with the way you beamed up at him moments before, walking quickly to the front desk.

You follow behind, breathing in the lingering scent his cologne leaves in his trail. Stepping in front of the counter as he grabs a stack of haphazardly sorted papers, you grab a pen from the cup in front of you.

He slides them over to you, groaning as he flips them so they’re facing your direction. “Might not be much help reading them upside down.” He chuckles. “Alright, so I’m assuming you know the drill, yeah?” He nods his head at your arms, eyes flickering over the ink.

“Mhmm..” you hum as you concentrate on crossing off and initialing boxes stating you don’t have any medical conditions hindering you from getting tattooed.

Matt watches in silence as you skim over the pages, twisting the pen between your small fingers. He places both hands on the ledge in front of him and moves ever so slightly closer, enough to watch your lashes as they brush your cheeks with each blink. If he got any closer you’d probably feel his breath hitting your skin.

You print and sign your name on the bottom of the last page, capping the pen and tossing it back into the cup. He’s stepping back as you look up at him with the papers outstretched, deciding ogling over you isn’t a very professional first impression.

“My ID is already on file.” You say as he takes the stack and turns to the side to run them through the scanner.

“Well look at you, smart girl huh?” He jokes, pressing buttons to send the papers through the machine.

You feel warmth creeping up your neck and across your cheeks as the words fall from his lips. “I mean,” you pause with a giggle, “Alex is my only artist so I know she’s got everything she needs from me.”

“And you’re cheating on her with me?” He chuckles softly as he steps out from behind the counter, turning to head back towards the studio. “Let’s get this started, shall we?” His voice is quiet, his back to you as he walks ahead.

Matt’s shirt is stretched thin across his broad shoulders, and you absentmindedly let your eyes sink down his arms, following the veins that trail from them into his hands as they swing. His walk is confident and steady, unwavering.

Part of him wishes he had let you walk ahead of him so he could selfishly glue his eyes to your legs, drinking up the way your shorts hug them perfectly. But he has to keep this professional, you’re just a customer.

He walks to his table, gripping a handle and maneuvering the headboard so that you’ll be partially sitting, partially leaning back. “Go ahead and have a seat for me.” He gestures you to the table.

You sit your bag in your lap as you adjust in the seat, a chill running through you as the cold textured leather presses against your back. Matt stands over his supply cart, looking back and forth between you and a few sheets of paper.

“I printed a few stencils but they’re all man sized..” he laughs, crumpling them up and tossing them into his trash bin. “I’m gonna have to free hand it.”

Your eyes widen as he grabs a marker off the top of the cart and pulls the lid off with his teeth, scooting his rolling chair up to your table. “Uhh.. are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Honey…” he laughs, his head falling forward before he looks up at you with a grin. “You know I sketched the design free handed, right?”

You silently curse yourself and do your best to laugh it off, but you definitely made yourself feel incredibly dumb. Somehow he switched the mood and made it feel like he was laughing with you instead of at you, though.

“Alright… first let me…” he trails off, looking around his table before replacing the marker with a fresh razor. “I know you don’t have chest hair, but I kinda have to clear the canvas regardless.” He gives you a humored smile.

He pulls his chair up, his left hand brushing your hair off of your shoulder and down your back. He grabs your tank top strap with a clenched jaw, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingers feel like jolts of electricity on your skin, like he shouldn’t be touching you, but also like you want more.

He’s a tattoo artist. Alex touches me everytime she does one of my tattoos. There’s nothing weird about it, stop making it weird.

You gulp and hope that your cheeks haven’t given away your feelings as he gets the strap out of his way and leans closer. You look forward, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with Matt as he slowly drags the razor across your skin.

“Alright there’s that.” He spins around and tosses the razor in the trash can, grabbing the marker once more. “Gonna sketch it out roughly right quick. It won’t look as detailed right now but I’ll add ‘em in later.” He mumbles as he tilts his head, bringing the marker to your collarbone.

Matt drags the marker across your skin with furrowed brows as he perfects the curvature of the snake to look like it’s wrapping around your bone. He can smell your sweet perfume permeating from your body, so close he can almost sniff out the individual notes. “You smell like candy.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. He bites down on his lip, shutting his eyes for a moment before he gets straight back to sketching, hoping you didn’t find it odd.

“Thank you!” You beam, “Funny enough it’s actually Prada Candy. I love it.”

He hums in response and finishes up his outline, rolling back to look at it from further away. “Sit up for me right quick.” He instructs and you listen. He nods his head, approving of his placement and sketch. “Let’s make sure you like it first.” He turns to the side and grabs a handheld mirror off his cart. He holds it out to you, his fingertips brushing yours as he hands it off.

“I love it! It’s the perfect size. Even just the sketch looks so good.” You grin as you study the purple ink in the mirror. You smile as you hand the mirror back to him, taking notice of the subtle curve of his lips.

“Great then. Already got the machine all set up and the ink wells filled. You ready?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

The look on his face tells you that you might have bitten off more than you can chew. “I… think I’m ready. Should I be worried?”

He sucks his teeth as he looks down with a stifled smirk. “Well… the collarbone isn’t the most pleasant place to get a needle jammed into your skin, I’ll leave it at that.”

You look to him with wide eyes. You’d never even considered how painful it might be, all of your other tattoos being on your arms and lower legs. “Matt, you’re scaring me.” You nervously laugh.

His stomach does a flip when you say his name for the second time today. He shoved the feeling down and reaches over, grabbing the tattoo gun in his right hand and turning it on briefly. The vibration sounds throughout the room and he assures it’s in good working condition before shutting it back off and looking up at you. “I think you’re a brave girl, you can take it.” He says lowly but causally as he rolls up next to the table, resting his left arm next to your shoulder.

The way Matt’s words fall from his lips like honey makes your skin feel as if it’s being licked with flames. You look down as he flips the gun on once again and dips the needle into the pitch black ink, the fluid dripping onto the table as he slowly raises it toward you.

“You’re gonna have to turn a little.” He almost whispers as he uses his left hand to guide your jaw to the side, giving him better access to your skin. “Alright, there we go.” He leans in as he brings the needle down into your skin, a sharp scratching and stinging pain making you gasp lightly. “You good?” He asks in a caring tone as he lifts the gun back up and scans your pained expression.

“Yeah, yeah.. I’m okay.” You breathe out. “Feels a lot different than arms and legs.”

You see him nod silently and lower the needle back to the surface of your skin, slowly pressing all the way down until he’s drawing the solid outline. He adjusts his left arm and places his warm hand onto your shoulder, his fingers gripping and pulling at the skin to keep it taut. He glances up at your face every now and again as he tattoos you, his view of your side profile and jawline begging him to keep looking. “You can move your head now. Got that upper outline all done.”

You turn your head to look at him, a smile pulling at your cheeks when you see he’s already looking up at you with hooded lids. He flashes you a small crooked grin before dipping his head back down and working on the rest of the outline. You squirm in your chair as the needle moves and works across your flesh, the area growing hot and tender.

You see a thin sheen of sweat forming on his arms under the heat of his overhead light, illuminating every dip and valley through the rolling veins on his hands. His wrist moves back and forth as he maneuvers the machine, his lip bitten between his teeth. Every few minutes his body must become sore because he moves his legs, adjusting in his seat before he brings his grip back to your shoulder.

He concentrates as he finishes the last of the outlining details, sitting up against the backrest of his chair and putting the gun down on his cart. “All done with the outline.” He smiles.

“Really?” You marvel excitedly. You peer down to take a look but huff once you realize you can’t bend your neck enough to get a good view.

Matt takes notice and leans over to grab the handheld mirror off his cart, except his left hand finds a spot atop your knee, sliding gingerly down your calf as he stretches toward his cart. As soon as his touch is there it’s gone. He leans back toward you and hands you the handle, smiling when you examine it in the mirror. “What do you think?”

You won’t lie to yourself, your pulse quickened when his hand brushed down your leg. Your only hope is he doesn’t notice the trail of goosebump he left behind in the absence of his touch. You struggle to find words, your mouth hanging open before you eventually find your voice. “I.. uh… l-looks really good.”

He exhales a small chuckle as he turns to switch the outlining needle for a shading needle. “Let me know if you need a break before I start this part.” He mumbles as he dips the set of needles into the well of ink.

You quickly shake your head. “Nope, get it over with.” You say flatly, closing your eyes. Shading is hit or miss, it either feels super relieving or like you’re getting shredded with a freshly sharpened cheese grater.

“That’s a good girl. All in one go, hm?” He murmurs as he scoots closer yet again.

He did not just say that. I’m thinking too much into this.

You give him a light chuckle and suck air in through your teeth once the needles meet your skin.

“Shhh.. you’re doing good. A lot better than a lot of crybaby men that have been on my table.” He coos as he drags the ink over the raw, bleeding skin.

If it wasn’t Matt you’d be much more of a mess. You’d probably be damn near in tears. But you can’t seem weak around him, so you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut as he shades and details the design. Your hands clench the air until your knuckles are white and throbbing, your body needing to release energy into anything other than the pain you’re in.

“Squeeze my arm if you need to. I don’t mind.” Matt proposes, stilling his movement and brushing his brown waves out of his eyes before looking at you expectantly.

You gulp and move your shaking hands to his bicep, wrapping your dainty fingers around the expanse of it lightly.

“C’mon, give me more than that.” He chuckles, “Just don’t squeeze hard enough that I fuck up your ink.”

You grip into his arm with more pressure, feeling his muscles expand and contract under his skin as he moves his forearm.

Thank god Darren left earlier. This looks so… personal.

When a small strained whimper slips out of your mouth he clears his throat, blinking hard as he wipes the tattoo with the paper towel in his left hand. He knows it’s because of the pain, he knows he shouldn’t enjoy the sound. But he does.

He can’t help himself as he finishes up the rest of the tattoo. He finds himself pressing the needle into your skin with more pressure than necessary, enough to draw more pretty sounds out of you and make you grip onto his arm. Enough for you to throw your head back onto the leather of the table, squirming your legs as you squeeze your eyes shut. He’d never do anything to mess up the integrity of his art, but god does he want to. He knows it’s wrong that his pants grow tighter with every move you make, every curse you let out as he pushes more and more ink into your skin. He sees this everyday, why is it affecting him like this?

The angel on his shoulder tells him to get the tattoo done, work fast and get you off his table. The devil on his other tells him to keep you here writhing and squeezing at him for as long as he can. His eyes drift across your sweaty face, your wet baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Your chest rises and falls as he digs in, taking his time to let the needle drag. His mind floods with sin, his hands desperately aching to pull the neckline of your tank top even a millimeter lower.

Your harsh squeeze to his arm snaps him out of his stream of thought, realizing he’d been keeping this on for too long, causing you unnecessary pain. Lifting the needle from your skin, he examines the finished piece for a moment. “All done.” He says flatly, pulling his arm from your grasp to set the machine down on his cart.

“Fuck… that was intense.” You breathe out, turning your head toward him.

“Mmm but you did great. Sat so well.” He praises as he grabs a bottle of cleaning solution.

You have no time to react before he’s squirting the liquid onto your collarbone, a harsh pulsing sting deep in your skin. “Oh that’s… fucking horrible.” You do your best to laugh through the sting.

He laughs along with you, nodding while he lets his eyes watch the droplets that flow down your chest and into the valley of your cleavage. He tears his eyes away and looks at his cart, scoffing when his box of paper towels proves empty. “Gotta go get some more paper towels,” he holds up the box, “be right back.”

“I won’t move a muscle.” You giggle and lean back onto the table.

He offers a quick smile before standing up, quickly turning around and walking to the utility closet across the studio. Once inside and out of view, he lets his hand wander down to the waistband of his jeans, slowly trailing lower to brush over his throbbing erection. He knows this is bad. He’s never had this kind of reaction to a client, and he can’t be crazy. He knows he’s seen you looking too.

He lets his rough fingertips push his shirt up and dip beneath his jeans and boxers, grabbing ahold of his pulsing cock with a slow, shaking breath. He pulls it up and tucks it into his waistband, knowing he can’t let you see the struggling tent in his pants when he walks back into the studio.

He quickly grabs a new sterile stack of paper towels and fills the empty box, sighing deeply before he begins the walk back to his station.

“They were up on a high shelf huh? Had to find a ladder?” You joke, poking fun at the fact he took longer than expected.

“Oh yeah. Had to call the fire department actually. Like when there’s a cat stuck in a tree.” He quips back with a laugh, sitting down and letting his chair roll closer to you.

He rubs the cleaning solution away and beams at his work. He may have taken longer than he needed, but damn if you didn’t get an insanely detailed snake piece. He grabs a package of Saniderm from his cart and peels the backing off, slowly applying it to the raw skin. “Leave this on for like two or three days, you can shower in it, sleep in it, the whole nine yards. It’ll start lifting and you’ll know it’s time to take it off.”

“Hmm.. Alex always uses plastic wrap.” You say questioningly, peering down at the clear bandage.

“That’s because she’s old.” He says matter of factly, peeling his gloves off and tossing them in the trash.

“She’s 35!” You chuckle and smack his shoulder.

“Yeah… old.” He replies as he fishes into his pocket. “Gotta get a picture of this, it turned out so sick.” He pulls his phone out and opens his camera, zooming in until he has the right angle and snapping a photo.

“Don’t post that, I bet I look busted.” You whine, sitting up and stretching your back.

“Well sweetheart, your face isn’t in the picture. But for the record, I think you look pretty good for a girl who just got a metric fuck ton of ink shoved into her collarbone with a needle.” He says as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

Your breath hitches inaudibly in your throat, heat lapping at your cheeks.

I have to play it cool. He didn’t call me pretty. He’s saying I took the tattoo well, that’s all.

“Thanks, Matt.” You smile, throwing your legs off the table and letting your feet hit the floor.

“After you.” He gestures his arm out as he stands, knowing he has to take the opportunity to walk behind you this time.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk down the hallway, feeling his eyes bore into the back of your head the entire way.

Except his eyes bore into everything he missed out on earlier. Your toned, smooth calves and up to your plush thighs that wiggle as you walk. The curve of your ass in your shorts. The way your hips sway with each step, taunting his still half-hard member.

You reach the front desk and peek into the mirror on the wall to the left of it, admiring the fresh ink. You can’t stop ogling at it as he prints out a receipt, walking up to the register and silently watching you. You turn your head to him and mumble an “oops”, stepping back to the center of the desk and grabbing the receipt from him. “Only $120?” You exclaim, widening your eyes as you look up to him.

He gives you a light nod and a shrug, brushing his hand through his fluffy waves. “You took it like a champ. Plus, I know you’ll be back. Gotta give that recurring customer discount, right?”

You know your cheeks are fire engine red at this point as you dig for your wallet, feeling as if you’re taking too long.

Am I being crazy or is that flirting? He’s flirting, right?

You open your wallet and dig out the cash, adding a generous tip to the stack before you hand it over. “I really appreciate it, Matt.”

“Not a problem. You have my number if you need anything else.” He returns as he sorts the cash into the register. He flicks his eyes back up and meets yours, a brief, almost-too-long moment of eye contact held between you two.

You blink hard a few times before clearing your throat and nodding, stepping back from the counter. “You got it. Thanks again.”

You turn on your feet and head for the door, pushing it open while your brain spins with thoughts of your encounter.

What the fuck was that?

—————

authors note: part two??? lmk 😈😈😈

taglist: @solarsturniolo @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @worldlxvlys @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen @angelic-sturniolos111 @mqttittude @sturniolowhore @luv4kozume

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo edit

984 notes · View notes