#have a g'day! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wild-houseplant · 1 year

Text

Have Warden, Will Travel- Chapter 16

I’m a lazy little sod who’s taken an age to get this to Tumblr. Sorry about that. We’re still on Broken Circle, so the usual death, gore, and general misery-- but with an added bonus of ableism. I’ve fixed up a couple sentences since I last mentioned it (look at me editing my first draft! Gosh!!) AO3 chapter here if needed, and the rest is in this post! Please drink your fluids and look at something nice today!!

Why was it never long before Zevran heard another noise? How many people lived in this shoebox of a place? He could have sworn they’d passed some thirty bodies between the great doors and the stockroom. At this point, that was probably more than the population of Redcliffe.

Swallowing back a sigh, he touched Rhodri’s elbow and gestured ahead to an open room off slightly to the left. They hugged the wall, approaching out of sight. There were at least three voices, if he wasn’t mistaken. Two deep, one light, all speaking in a hush.

“What are we doing here, Willard?”

Someone tsked impatiently. “We’re making sure no-one disrupts Uldred’s plan. I thought I was quite clear…”

Rhodri stilled, head tilting in the direction of the other group. “I think I hear Tara,” she whispered.

“You know what I meant. Uldred isn’t even Uldred any more! This has gone much too far, I don’t–”

“This is what we’re faced with, Tara. There is no turning back now, do you understand me? If we turn back now, we will lose everything we've fought for!”

The Warden turned sharply to Wynne. “That filth is roping my apprentices into this,” she growled.

Before Wynne could answer, she stepped away from the wall and waved a hand. “Tara?” she called out, her voice gently rasping. “Ah, and Georgie, too. Good. Come over here, if you please, away from Willard.”

Zevran and the rest of the party peeled themselves away from the wall. Two wiry mages, a boy and a girl who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, were watching the party with open mouths. A third mage, substantially older and wearing a gold robe instead of the younger ones’ blue ones, observed the scenario with a curled lip.

“We…” the girl looked uneasily between them and her co-conspirators.

“We are explicitly here to thwart Uldred’s plans,” Wynne said firmly. “Join us now, or fight to the death.”

Rhodri’s eyes widened. She beckoned frantically to the apprentices.

“Come, leave him,” she said urgently. “Please, please be sensible– SHIT!”

The man named Willard threw a gashed hand in the party’s direction, and a stream of rippling, singing blood was narrowly stopped by Rhodri’s shield.

Chaos ensued. Willard tipped his head back and lifted his arms, as if to call to something, only to have a fire blob fall out of thin air and… into him? This was without a doubt the strangest pornography Zevran had ever witnessed, and by far the most unpleasant.

The blob was Willard and Willard was the blob, a blazing bag of flesh and char who was apparently as foul-tempered as he had been prior to the possession. Willard the Fire Blob threw himself at the party, magic assaults aplenty. That was probably for the best on his end, because the teenagers flopped over most unceremoniously, asleep before they could finish crumpling on the floor.

With a snort, Zevran distracted Willard long enough for Rhodri, for whom sleep spells were becoming something of a personal trademark, to bolt over and haul the anaesthetised teenagers away by their ankles.

With five against one, Willard the Fire Blob didn’t have a hope. Especially, Zevran decided as he slipped around and neatly snicked Willard’s throat open, against someone like him. After all, who in the Fereldan Circle– and who in the Fade, for that matter, expects an Antivan Crow? What a gorgeous thing it was for a powerful beast to be easy prey.

Willard died immediately.

Tara and Georgie, once awakened, looked rather nonplussed about the whole affair.

Wynne marched over to where the blinking pair sat, shaking her head. “Blood magic,” she said reproachfully. “I expected better from both of you.”

“We were trying to free ourselves!” the boy protested. “Uldred promised us the Circle would support Loghain and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry!”

Rhodri squatted down near them. “I have always told you,” she said gently, “that blood magic is dangerous, and only a last resort if you have had the proper tutelage and testing. No-one here is qualified to teach it, or even practice it.” She frowned. “You understood that. You never wanted to get into any of it. Why did you side with him?”

“A lot can change in a few months,” the boy snarled. “You might know that if you hadn’t fucked off and left us in this miserable pit!”

“Georgie!” the girl whispered furiously, shooting Rhodri an apologetic look.

“Shut up!” he barked at her. “Rhodri didn’t even try to take anyone with her! Didn’t leave a note, no letters. It was like we never existed to you once you were free.” The little bastard glared at the Warden and spat out, “Soulless Tranquil bitch.”

Zevran couldn’t remember a time in his life where he hadn’t attended Saturday prayers at the Chantry. The whorehouse children were many things, the whores would regularly say, but they were not unbelievers.

The tiny Rialto Alienage Chantry was the most gorgeous building he had ever seen. The carvings of Shartan and Andraste, inlaid in the supports and the hardwood walls, were so magnificent, so consecrated in their perfection that not even the guards would threaten to raze it to the ground.

After the Crows had bought him, his new house of prayer became the gilded, stained-glass edifice in Antiva City, which his mother’s taxes had no doubt been funnelled into while she lived. Magnificent, certainly, and inspiring an awe that matched the tone of the Canticles.

Now, in that grand place, he was down on both knees, eschewing the embroidered hassock for the well-deserved hardness of the marble floor. His prayer beads smelled of ancient sweat and Antivan cypress, hanging from his clasped, trembling hands, a fingerwidth away from the bridge of his nose.

You have walked beside me Down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh. You have stood with me when all others Have forsaken me.

The cold guilt turning in his belly was tamped down momentarily with a fervent plea for forgiveness, and Zevran did it again when the unpleasantness resurged, and again, and again. If he had to spend the rest of his life on his knees, he would do it.

He prayed until his legs had gone numb, and even then was only interrupted when a hard kick toppled him over. Zevran clutched the prayer beads, not bothering to reach for any of the daggers on his person, and lifted his gaze without moving his head.

Master Eoman watched him from his great height, swinging a set of polished rosewood prayer beads on his finger.

“I heard you praying for that little half-breed,” he sneered at a respectably low volume.

Zevran gave no answer. What was there to say?

The Master squatted down and smirked at him softly. “Is there really any point, though?”

“The Maker has never told me otherwise.”

Zevran's insolence was met with a triumphant smile that made his blood curdle.

“I’ll tell you something now, Thirty-Three,” Eoman whispered, teeth gleaming. “No prayer will turn the Maker’s eye to something like her, and you can be sure it’ll have the opposite effect if you're the one praying.”

The Master chuckled and shook his head. “To come this far as a Crow means something's forsaken you. If you believe in the Maker’s divine hand shielding people from the worst things in life, you’d know that Forty-Seven-Two is nothing even to the All-Loving. She had no soul, and neither do you..” Eoman drew a finger under Zevran’s tightening jaw and forced it up to face him. His eyes narrowed menacingly. “And as sure as day follows night follows day, Thirty-Three, your turn will come. You’ll follow her footsteps and die as you lived: nothing.”

There should have been the usual anger and indignance that came with serious blasphemy. Failing that, at least a desire to point out that disputing the existence of a soul insulted the Maker. And yet, nothing compelled him to disagree. Zevran swallowed back the bile crawling up his throat, resisting the urge to curl into himself.

Master Eoman flicked Zevran’s jaw out of his fingers and stood up again. He wiped his hand on his cloak. “If you have the urge to do a good deed, you might pick yourself up off the floor before you leave a mark there. Or at least consider wasting away on one of the darker tiles.”

Without another word, the Master turned and strode away toward the Revered Mother's office. Zevran wanted to die.

Zevran clenched his fists as the briefest shock rippled over Rhodri’s face. When her usual frown was in place again, she raised an eyebrow at the boy. “‘Tranquil,’” she echoed, folding her arms. “Hm. I suppose I have Willard to thank for you picking up cheap slurs, is it?”

The boy scoffed. “People have always called you that–”

“But you never did,” she said simply. “In any case, we don’t have time to discuss the likelihood of the Templars burning my letters to you, or the fact that you two and Clarrie were in crucial, uninterruptible examinations when I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens–”

“You wrote to us?” the girl gasped.

Rhodri sighed. “Yes, Tara, many times. If we make it out of here alive, I suggest you take your questions to the First Enchanter about that."

"But–"

"Later, if you please. Now, as the Senior Enchanter has already said,” she indicated a frowning Wynne, “we are eradicating the blood magic in this Tower, and making very quick work of it. You two are fighting a losing battle, and I want you to give up now.”

“Rhodri, don’t you remember what it was like?” Tara protested. “The floggings, the dungeons, the constant surveillance? Greagoir's brutal, and he lets that handful of underlings get away with everything! We can’t keep living like this. We have to fight for change!”

“Do you think the Circle will ever be the same after this?” Wynne asked gravely. “It has already changed.” She rubbed her brow and sighed. “You are one of a miraculous handful of survivors, and unless you stand down from this now, your luck is about to take a turn for the worse.”

“They will stand down,” Rhodri said firmly. She looked around at Wynne. “May I have a moment with them, please, Senior Enchanter? They’re my students. They’ll listen to me.”

When Wynne nodded, the two teenagers were pulled to their feet and walked just outside of hearing distance. With their backs to the party, it was hard to know what was being said, but Zevran was sure he caught the apprentices’ eyes briefly widening. A suspicious look from the boy was quelled by some unknown thing from the Warden; hope threatened in the girl’s eyes and didn’t dim.

And then they nodded, to themselves and to each other, and that was that. The three of them returned to the party.

“And?” Wynne asked. “What have you decided, Tara? Georgie?”

“Your side,” they replied together.

“We didn’t actually do any blood magic,” the girl added quickly. “Just watched. Willard only wanted us to give him some of our blood.”

Rhodri said a filthy enough word to make Wynne purse her lips. She watched the apprentices worriedly. "Did he take any of your blood?"

They shook their heads. The boy held out his hands, dirty but admittedly free of blood.

"See?" he said calmly. "Nothing. Not even on my sleeves."

The Warden relaxed. Wynne relented with a sigh.

“Very well," Wynne said. "I will give you the benefit of the doubt for the time being.” She pointed in the direction the party had come from. “The other survivors are in the library annexe. Wait with them.”

The apprentices nodded and as they made to leave, Rhodri pulled the boy aside.

“Pharamond and Owain still live,” Zevran heard her murmur to him. “I don’t know if your sudden affinity for slurs has brought other behaviours, but I expect you to treat them, and any other Tranquil mages, with respect.”

The apprentice winced. “I know,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have called you that. I only said it because I was angry. I– I didn’t mean it.”

Rhodri shook her head. “That’s beside the point. If you want to insult me, that is your prerogative, but it will not come at the cost of the Tranquil mages’ dignity.”

“I’m sorry, Rhodri.” His voice cracked a little.

“Prove it to me, Georgie. Go back with Tara to the annexe, and don’t abide a single bad word about Owain and Pharamond.” She bent down until they were eye-level and watched him gravely. “They’ve been good to you all these years, and someone needs to care about them, even if they feel nothing. I expect nothing less of you.”

He sniffled. “I'll do it.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t say these things if I thought you incapable of doing better. You’re a kind boy, and I know you won’t disappoint me.”

He nodded.

“Good,” she said again, and gestured to the girl. “You two go, then, and tell the others we’re well.”

Wynne and Rhodri waved the apprentices goodbye, heaving their own private sighs once they were out of sight.

Zevran sighed too, and didn’t know why. Something in here smelled like victory; he didn’t know what that was, either.

The party moved into the adjoining corridor. After seeing so many rounding hallways, Zevran couldn’t help but note a curious craving for straight lines.

And relative safety, but the former of these seemed a more likely encounter at this point.

The rooms in this stretch were, at least, much smaller than what they’d been walking through. That meant fewer enemies behind each closed door, which was always a good thing.

They were nicer, too. Three or four of them were dormitories– and not the open slather, forty bunk beds to a single space affair like what they’d seen downstairs. At most, one dormitory had five beds big enough to sleep two or three people each, separated from one another by a three-quarter wall that opened out into a common hallway.

Zevran gave a low whistle as he poked his head around one of the walls to look inside one of the bedrooms. Along with the bed, the room boasted its own storage trunk, wardrobe, and vanity–or rather, the broken remains of them now. It must have been positively palatial by Circle standards while it was still intact.

“Who gets to sleep in here?” he asked, regretting it instantly as the Warden stiffened.

Wynne looked over her shoulder at him. "The mages who pass their apprenticeship," she said, not unkindly but with a matter-of-factness he had often heard in himself when talking about life in the Crows.

Leliana frowned. "But there are so few beds here. The dormitories downstairs–"

Alistair touched her shoulder and shook his head. "Don't think about it too much," he said grimly, wincing a little as Leliana's face went white.

Wynne called Rhodri and pointed at the room Zevran had peeked into. "Nobody took your room, Rhodri. If you stored anything useful in there before you left, you should collect it now. I'll do the same, actually…" she strode further down the tight corridor and went into the fourth room.

Rhodri wasted no time, wading over the wreckage to the trunk, which sported only a little damage to the top. She hauled the lid open, and a hard breath tumbled out of her.

“The pictures,” she mumbled, fishing out a hand-sized paper and kissing it. “They’re still intact.”

Rhodri looked over at him. Zevran glanced over his shoulder; Alistair and Leliana had gone with Wynne, so it had to have been him she'd meant it for. It almost came across as a request to come nearer and look with her, but why she would want him close by for that–

Oh. Oh. No, he knew. She kissed it because it was the picture of a lover. Perhaps she had been aware of Zevran’s flirtations, let him do it because she was too polite to turn him down– perhaps even too afraid to upset him– and now was the moment before the gentlest rejection in history. It had been a while since he had made any come-ons with any real intention, but she might have decided to dissuade him from starting up again. How awfully decent of her to be so thoughtful about it all.

His stomach sank anyway.

Still, he waded over the wreckage to her, ready enough to accept the rejection. She didn’t smile, but leaned in toward him when he drew close enough. Salt, burnt blood, scorched earth, all sweetened by sundried linen. The smell should have made his stomach turn. It did on some level, but he couldn’t find it in himself to shift away from her.

She brought the picture near him, a colour portrait of a tall, sharp-faced man with a sharkmouth and wavy, brown hair, standing with his arm around the waist of a slender, raven-haired woman who wore a remarkably familiar frown. They were flanked on either side by two older teenagers with confident smirks (twins, Zevran presumed), along with a beaming redheaded boy, and a solemn, bright-eyed young girl who held the woman’s hand. All but the woman wore luxurious, patterned robes and had staves strapped to their backs (the woman had a lush velvet gown that went to the floor) and every one of them stood proudly, resplendent in their finery. These had to be relatives.

“My mother and father,” Rhodri said softly, “and my younger siblings. The twins, Mazarin and Evander. Owen is this one here, and my youngest sister, Bethann. They all live in Minrathous, of course, so I got a picture each year to see what had changed as the time passed.” She gulped. “This is the last one they sent before my mother went missing.”

Not a picture of a lover, then. Zevran’s skin prickled with shame under the lightness in his chest. He smiled, and he couldn’t decide if it came because he’d summoned it, or if it had simply been waiting for the opportunity to emerge.

“I see looks run in the family,” he nodded at the picture. “Your mother is a stunning beauty.”

Compliments to mothers were always welcome with marks. Other family members less so, but treasured mothers were a shrine at which all good words were expected to be laid. And certainly, Zevran hadn’t said anything untrue.

“Yes,” her thumb brushed over the woman’s cheek. “My father always kissed my mother’s hands and told her so.” She sighed and slipped the picture into her satchel. “They’re a funny bunch. Full of stories and wickedness. I think they’d love you.”

Zevran’s body locked, and Rhodri– the Warden! why did he keep calling her that?-- to his incalculable relief, wasn’t even looking at him. Already bending down to close the chest and, with a quiet request that he follow her, walking past him and out of the little room. She had no idea, and his muscles loosened again on that basis alone.

Wynne appeared in the corridor, with Alistair and Leliana hot on her heels.

“Are you ready to move on?” she asked.

The Warden touched a hand to her satchel and nodded.

Try as he might, Zevran couldn’t shake the feeling he had stumbled into a particularly bad party. The rampant destruction the company encountered on the next floor up wasn’t out-of-place at boisterous, down-at-heel celebrations. Drunk humans, especially, had a real affinity for shattering windows and other glass, upending anything not nailed to the ground, and getting into fights that had the host finding bloodpatches and loose teeth on the premises for a week.

Really, if it weren’t for the monsters and the fact that the floor and walls were festooned with swollen, bulbous entrails big enough to eclipse him, Zevran could have convinced himself he’d walked in on the tail-end of a human gang leader’s birthday. Was it always this awful here? Oh, to have been back downstairs, where the walls were cleaner and the main task was pilfering lyrium from the First Enchanter’s office. (And, in the Warden’s case, a black leather book that, she declared to the baffled party, belonged more to Morrigan than to Irving).

And the timing of all this had been particularly bad (though when, precisely, was a good time to see tree trunk-sized gizzards and tendons snaking their way around like bunting?). The kitchen was the last room the party passed through before stepping into the– well, what was that room? The entrails parlour? Whatever it had been, Zevran found himself deeply regretting any gratitude he might have felt that the food in said kitchen was still fresh.

Perhaps the only good thing about having to enter said parlour via the kitchen was the fact that the party had been able to loop back down to the library annexe and drop off food to the ecstatic survivors. And, Zevran was quietly pleased to note, Rhodri had spoken with the Tranquil mages and seemed satisfied with the way Georgie– and the others there, had been treating them. As good as the situation could possibly be, then.

Really, the problems had only truly started once they entered the entrails parlour. Even then, Zevran might have felt reasonably at ease with the situation had Wynne not audibly gasped. Touched a hand to her mouth, even.

“Th–this cannot continue,” she stammered softly. “If there were so many deaths on the lower floors, what has gone on up here? Is this from possessions?”

The blanched Warden reached around and touched Alistair, who was wearing a quizzical frown.

“You see it, too, right?” he murmured to her.

“Mmm,” she nodded weakly. “So much like Darkspawn corruption.”

Zevran’s stomach dropped at that. Wynne and Leliana looked around at them sharply.

“You do not think…?” Wynne’s eyes widened. “... Do you?”

They shook their heads. “The blood’s too red,” Alistair said. “Darkspawn blood is much darker. I’d hazard a guess that this is Abomination corruption.”

“Maker preserve us,” Leliana whispered. “These poor people.”

At the mention of sympathy, the two mages straightened up.

“We must stop them,” Wynne declared.

“Mmm!” Zevran smiled. “Better the abominations die than us!” He spun his blades in his hands, half to offset the nerves and half to encourage himself.

“Keep that enthusiasm,” Alistair muttered darkly. “I’ve a feeling it’s only going to get worse from here.”

Zevran shrugged with all the good-naturedness he could muster. “We will either come out of this alive, my friend, or we will not.”

“We can’t afford to fail,” Rhodri said simply. “Come, please. We should move on.”

The last room to clear out on that floor sat directly across from the staircase. The door was closed, and Zevran wasn’t sure if it was his tired muscles talking (in all fairness, the previous door had housed another of those bodacious desire demons), but there was something vaguely soporific about the air. Softer, warmer, with the vague, heavy pull of an Antivan summer afternoon in the minutes before a downpour broke the stifling humidity. He couldn’t help but love it.

From behind him, Alistair yawned. “That desire demon really took it out of me, you know,” he mumbled. He uncorked a stamina potion and downed it in two mouthfuls.

Wynne and Rhodri shared an uncertain hum. “I think we ought to brace ourselves,” the Senior Enchanter said, blinking owlishly. “There seems to be something that saps energy at proximity.”

Rhodri stifled a yawn and led the group away from the door. “We should split into two,” she declared. “Someone come in with me, and if we both fall asleep, the other contingent can drag us out, yes?”

Without thinking, Zevran, who was already feeling much more energised, gave a small wave and stepped forward.

“I am ready and willing!” he waggled his brows daringly. “Shall we?”

Rhodri nodded. They strode back to the door.

“Stay behind me,” Rhodri murmured. “If I fall and you’re still standing, go out and fetch the others. I’m too heavy for you to carry alone, and you need to get out before you drop, too.”

Zevran opened his mouth to complain, but under the sombre look she was pinning him down with, he could do nothing but nod once. Appearing satisfied, she opened the door and let out a surprised ‘Ae ae!’

“It’s Niall!”

Zevran looked around her shoulder and saw a rail-thin human lying on the floor. His long, dark hair spilled around him like a halo, and his cheeks were so sunken that Zevran had thought him dead until he saw his chest barely rise. Under one of his skeletal hands was a scroll– litanies were long texts, were they not? Was this what the mages were after?

“Oh dear,” Zevran sighed. His body slumped a little under the effort, which was decidedly less than promising.

When he looked up again, he was already being shoved back toward the door. He turned around and caught sight of a colossal red… thing looming behind Rhodri. A blob, not unlike the other blobs, but larger and with a sag to its entire body that gave the distinct impression of melting. Its one, yellow eye sat in a black socket, turned directly onto him.

“Wh–?”

“Go,” Rhodri gasped. “It’s a sloth demon. I’m too close to it, I can’t cast–” she groaned and sank to her knees like an invisible hand was pressing down on her from above. “Go, Zev!”

“Ah,” the demon lamented in a guttural purr. “But we were just starting to have fun.”

Zevran’s knees buckled. “Ah… hello?” he called out the door. “We may–” he paused and yawned, an unfortunately pleasant heaviness creeping into his bones. Where was this bloody demon during the insomnia nights? “May need… reinforcements…”

Footsteps were coming, no doubt bound for the same fate, and Zevran was on the floor, sinking into the stone like it was a feather mattress. The gentle light filtering through the windows was just the right dimness for a midday nap, and what a gorgeous thing it was to feel so dreamy and leaden. Unwise, of course, but with a body that was nailed to the floor by forces unseen, what was he to do? He glanced over as a hand– ah, lovely Rhodri’s hand, reached back and took his shoulder.

“Go, Zev,” she slurred, giving it a futile push.

There was no going for either of them, and Zevran didn’t mind that. Her hand stayed where it was on him, and he drank in the tender, earnest weight like parched earth. Those rubbed-eye shapes danced over his field of vision, cutting off grey eyes watching him with such apology. What a fool he'd been. What a damned fool. His mouth twitched in a rueful smile.

The (hopefully reassuring), "Goodnight, mi sol," he mumbled sounded like it had come from someone else. Maybe it had.

Zevran was satisfied either way; he gave in.

#Have Warden Will Travel #HWWT #Rhodri Amell #In which the Sloth Demon says g'day #less of an australian accent than I portray here I must confess

3 notes · View notes

snowytiger · 1 year

Text

my impatient ass psoted more like,,ugnbfhem I NEEDT O SHOW HOW MUXH I LOVE THESE FUCKIGN MOSNTERS (its noggin' time)

#msm #my singing monsters #fanart #doodle #peckidna #tweedle #noggin #glowl #gday #g'day #i still have an unhealthy obsession with msm #snowy doodles

6 notes · View notes

fictionallyinparadise · 2 years

Text

Sniper leaving kisses on my shoulders is so important to me rn.

#🦘; g'day love!#gush post #i think he's a cheesy romantic. a sappy man.#aheem aheem whimper #i just want to lay in bed and be HELD BY HIM.#(and Scout and Pyro ofc however. however i. sniper.)#i know that scout (and i think sniper?) have a canon name but.#it's too weird to adjust to???#anyway

2 notes · View notes

tuiyla · 2 years

Note

I’m just wondering what you meant by people “not getting” Dave Karofsky. I’m sure people do understand the redemption arc of bully to nice guy in the end. It doesn’t mean we have to like him, or put him on our blog, or support Kurtofsky or even Blainofsky, and we can agree with people who write about how they dislike him, and should never be considered as a ship for Kurt.

Anon, you started out with a semi-request to clarify but then immediately assumed what I meant and got defensive about an argument I never even made. I never even mentioned Kurt/Blaine/either of those romantic ships. I understand you probably had all that loaded and ready to go but I think typing it into my inbox preemptively was a little misguided. Never said any of the things you put under "it doesn't mean we have to [blank]." I hope you do know that.

So to clarify, I wasn't referring to pretty much any of that nor do I have an interest in discussing it. I just meant Dave. Just Dave, not Kurt or Blaine or what they have to do with him, just Dave and his place in this larger discussion of how we talk about queer rep and more specifically the, how to put it, less wholesome side of queer rep.

#also like. you're on anon so how should i even know what you put on your blog?#anon #dave karofsky #not tagging as g asks #not gonna have discourse around this #but if you're in good faith anon know that i'm not treating this as hostile either i just think #you jumped the gun a bit there buddy #g'day

4 notes · View notes

cartierre · 1 year

Text

GOLDEN RETRIEVER | ls18

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lance stroll x fem!reader

side note: i am so obsessed with lance as of lately so... this really hit different. thank you @lovelytsunoda for saving the day!

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, scottyjames31 and 98,293 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername g'day australia!

view all 438 comments

user1 dexter is so adorable! ⤷ user2 i need a dexter and roscoe collab right now!

user3 i hope dexter had a save flight!

lance_stroll all these comments are about how cute dexter is but have you seen me on the last slide? ⤷ yourusername the cutest!

danielricciardo your australian accent is getting better with every gp ⤷ scottyjames31 i agree ⤷ yourusername i have the best teachers

user4 is dexter going to have his own instagram account?

♡ liked by yourusername, lance_stroll, lewishamilton and 57,873 others

roscoelovescoco tis my new friend everybody's: dexter!

view all 536 comments

user5 this is the crossover i needed

user6 ah omg i love that they like each other! ⤷ user7 best duo on the grid

user8 every time i read roscoe's captions i get a seizure

yourusername i think dexter would love another playdate in the future! ⤷ roscoelovescoco i love's that!

♡ liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll, lewishamilton and 88,923 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername miami really tired out our sweet boy

view all 403 comments

user9 maybe this is a sign that you shouldn't drag him everywhere with you ⤷ user10 nobody says anything when roscoe attends races but with dexter you people suddenly care? ⤷ user11 i think they know their dog's limits the best

user12 is that soda he's drinking? ⤷ yourusername don't worry, it's water!

lance_stroll is the caption about me or dex? ⤷ yourusername free ✨ interpretation ✨

user13 i love how dexter doesn't have his own instagram because y/n's profile is actually turning into dexter's

user14 why is everyone hating on how y/n and lance raise their own dog?

user15 isn't he just the cutest!? dog parents of the year

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, danielricciardo and 101,003 others

tagged: chloestroll, scottyjames31, lance_stroll

yourusername most beautiful wedding with the most beautiful newlyweds

view all 637 comments

user16 i'm so envious to everyone who attended this wedding!!! ⤷ user17 fr the vibes are everything

chloestroll ❤️️❤️️

user18 i think this is the first post in ages without dexter ⤷ user19 they probably thought it would be better to not take him with them

scottyjames31 next time yours? ⤷ yourusername i think someone's taking his sweet time to propose

user20 DID Y/N JUST SAY SHE'D BE READY TO GET MARRIED TO LANCE? ⤷ user21 they've been together for quite some time, moved in together and have a dog...

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, scottyjames31 and 110,739 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername i think dexter wants us to be an official family

view all 873 comments

user22 OMG HE PULLED THROUGH ⤷ user23 lance is one lucky guy

scottyjames31 guess there will be a new mrs. stroll soon ⤷ yourusername i'm stepping into your shoes

chloestroll i hope lance and i picked out a good ring ⤷ yourusername a family of taste

user24 i am obsessed that lance took his sister to shop for y/n's ring ⤷ user25 sibling goals ⤷ user26 i'm more obsessed that he proposed at the canadian gp, his home race! perfect timing

lance_stroll makes the candian gp even more special.. i love you, dexter loves you as well ⤷ yourusername i love youuu ❤️️❤️️

#lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll imagines #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll fanfiction #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 instagram au

2K notes · View notes

bogleech · 15 days

Note

G'day mr the bogged leech. If you dont mind me asking yer opinion, which kind of round eyes emerging from darkness are better: white with black pupils like tangela, or glowing one solid color like vivi final fantasy?

This is the hardest question I have ever been asked. Every time I almost pick one for my answer I think "wait, no." I think I've personally overused both of them a million times, too. How do I pick between my own babies. I did recently decide to put glowy eyes inside of a whole eyeball though. Maybe they don't have to be enemies?!

171 notes · View notes

str4ykin9s · 3 months

Text

Kidnapper: We have the Aussie member from your group Chan: Huh? But Felix is right here Kidnapper: Then who is this tall, loud dude who keeps saying "G'day mate!"? Chan: Oh! You have Hyunjin! Kidnapper: Can you please come and take him

#bang chan #han jisung #lee know #stray kids #changbin #lee felix #skz #hyunjin #incorrect quotes #seungmin

281 notes · View notes

brummiereader · 5 months

Text

PREVIOUS PART MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Part Three/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a restless night and chaotic start to your day, you arrive late for work. Unfortunately for you, your day of misfortune doesn't end there when Tommy's jealousy becomes uncontainable and he calls you into his office for some stern words and questioning as to where exactly your priorities lie.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, stalking, obsessive behaviour, supernatural themes, dark romance, manipulation of time, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Word Count: 4164

Authors Note: "Sweet Afton's" are a brand of cigarette seen in the show, smoked by Tommy. The two other brands of cigarettes mentioned in this chapter were also popular at the time. Sorry for being so late posting this part everyone. I hope you enjoy it!

How long had you been awake? A simple question anyone could ask themselves but a wasted one on you as you frantically rushed past your granddad through the cramped hallway, sending him no more than a faint smile as a greeting the very next morning as you made your way out onto the streets of Small Heath. A lack of sleep and an exhausted mind from countless hours of mulling over what you were sure you had seen the previous night consequently had you stumbling over your feet the very moment you stepped onto the cobbled path, and into a hard object you could only assume was a fellow human.

" Steady there love" a young man said, catching you before you landed face first onto the ground In front of him and further embarrassing yourself in your already flustered state.

" Sorry..." you replied abruptly pulling away from his hold, finding yourself studying his face longer than what anyone would consider socially acceptable let alone polite as you stepped back with caution. Was it him? You thought to yourself as your glare narrowed in on every feature his face possessed, his puzzled eyes turning into ones filled with nervousness when your stare failed to divert from examining each movement he made in an awkward, almost unbearable silence.

"Well...G'day to you miss" he said tipping his hat to you as he walked past your insistent eyes, his slow strides and labored limp absent of the speediness the dark shadow displayed last night quickly snapping you out of your unfounded accusations.

"Shit" you sighed under your breath as you straightened your hat that was now lop sided with a knotted ball of locks contained under it. In all honesty, you looked a bloody mess. A tangly haired, red-cheeked, nervous ball of mess. " Good day sir, and...and thank you!" You apologetically called out waving to the young man who your suspicious mind had all but convinced you in the space of a few seconds was the same creep that had been watching you. "Jesus Y/N, get a fucking grip" you scolded yourself under a heavy breath as you headed in the direction of work which you was already twenty minutes late for, the same place of work that just so happened to pass by the very spot said creep was standing in. As you approached the corner of the alleyway you came to a stop, your eyes briefly darting down to a burnt out cigarette on the ground you was convinced only one person could have been smoking. Bending down you picked up the rolled tobacco with the unintelligible charred words "eet ton's" printed on the filter, bringing it to your face as if you could distinguish the authentic smell of whatever tobacco had been used. In reality, you had no idea what you were looking for, but with wishful thinking and your nagging brain telling you to pocket the discarded cigarette, you did exactly that. Placing it between your hankie and carefully folding it within the embroidered fabric, your eyes shot up to the gulley that was devoid of anyone mere minutes ago when, just like the previous day, someone caught your attention. She was there again, watching you. " Hello?" You called out as the man that never ceased to be absent from her side made his presence known as he turned the corner, a bellow of smoke pummeling to the heavens with every swift stride he took.

" She can see me, Tommy..." Your panicked voice gasped as he approached you, his hand gently resting on your lower back, his bitterly cold cheek pressed against your own as you watched in unison the woman standing at the end of the bricked pathway, a woman that looked in every single way identical to you. Was Tommy right, was that you?

" Shh now darling" he soothed your worries away, his hand creeping under your jacket and grazing over your blouse, his fingers desperate to intimately feel the warmth of your soft skin he had longed to touch once again. This would have to do...for now. "She won't get any closer, I'll make sure of it" he assured you, closing his eyes as your intoxicating perfume brimming with notes of aldehyde and lemon filled his senses, transporting him back to the very year you were standing in, the very same day you were standing in.

"She's coming. Tommy, she's walking this way. Make her stop, please!..."

"Can I help you?" You asked, squinting into the distance as you strategically stepped around a muddy pothole whilst you made your way through the morning mist when a loud crashing of metal onto the cobbled path had you falling ankle deep into the very globe of sludge you was doing your up most to avoid. " Fuck sake. You again" you huffed as the black feline from the previous night ran out from behind a lidless bin. " You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Made it your life's bloody mission to torment me" you ranted as he ran past you without a mere ounce of remorse whilst your eyes followed his nimble steps to the end of the alleyway that was now suddenly empty of the couple that had been standing there. " I'm losing it" you said wiping the whispers of hair from your face, grimacing as you pulled your muddy foot from the deep hole. " New job, no sleep and... I'm finally losing it" you continued to ramble to yourself, unwilling to speak of the very thing that had you in such a state as you took one last quick glance to the end of the path hoping that the past two days' unusual events were just a figment of your over-tired imagination. Fatigue. The only likely, rational reason...right?

" What the fuck-a-doodle-doo happened to you?" Ethel rather flamboyantly asked as you came thundering through the offices looking at you from head to toe, her and everyone else's eyes now fixed on your muddy stockings and disheveled appearance.

" Ethel!" Betsy scolded her. Her dear friend and colleague never able to, or willing to stop herself at any given opportunity to further elaborate whatever thought had entered her mind.

"Dear lord" Ada said wide-eyed as she looked to her Aunt who's lips were tightly pursed together, desperately holding back the humor in your uncanny resemblance to the local pigeon lady that had taken up residence on the church steps of Small Heath.

" I'm sorry love, It's just ..." Polly started to say, covering her mouth behind her cup of tea before her and everyone else burst into a fit of giggles, you quickly following suit as you got a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a glass cabinet in front of you.

" Well Christ" you laughed, slumping down into your chair as you pulled your hat off.

" Dare I ask?" Ada said through a smile as she sat on the edge of your desk, receiving only a grunt from you in response. " Late night maybe? Followed by some cross-country hiking?" She teased, arching a brow as she looked down at your mud-drenched tights.

" Stepped in a pothole" you huffed, burying your head in your hands suddenly feeling sorry for yourself.

" And the birds nest currently residing on top of your head? " She asked as you ran your fingers through your knotted locks. " Getting there..." she smiled affectionately to you as your hair started to smooth down into something more manageable. " So, are you going to tell me what's got you looking like you was pulled through a hedgerow backwards ? " She asked as you started taking of your shoes, your lack of clothing in your frantic departure from home that morning making it near impossible to unbuckle your three-inch heels with your now, numb fingers.

" You know, they really should do something about all those potholes, Ada. I could have broken my ankle"

" Y/N"

" A foot deep, it was like a trench"

" Y/N!"

" Nothing" you replied, avoiding her gaze as you hitched up your skirt and unhooked your stockings, simultaneously avoiding Ada's worries and your own. With a room full of women, you were at no risk of further embarrassing yourself. Or at least you thought you were, when not only your boss but his two brothers and another man accompanying them sauntered in, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of your toe balancing precariously on the knob of your desk draw, the clasps of your garter belt on show and a stocking halfway down your leg. Oh, for fuck sake.

"I think I've just died and gone to heaven. Catch me Arthur..." John said, falling into his brother as a thunder of laughter resonated through the building, all but Tommy's that was.

" Get off ya bleeding egit" Arthur said, giving his brother a sharp elbow to his side.

" Gents" Tommy cleared his throat, motioning what might as well have been the entire British army and all the Kings' guards into his office as your face reddened, and you felt like bursting into tears at the sheer embarrassment of them seeing you in such a predicament.

" Kill me now. Just kill me now and throw me in the cut" you mumbled under your breath, tucking your legs under the desk as Tommy glanced back at you, his jaw tightening in what you could only assume was annoyance at your inappropriate display in a work place.

" Oh stop it" Ada scolded you as she rolled her eyes at your dramatics. " It's not like they've never seen a pair of legs before" she said placing a cigarette in her mouth as she tried to downplay your small mishap.

" Yes but maybe not at eight in the morning, and legs belonging to someone they hardly know" you huffed pushing your forehead into the palms of your hands, pushing the disastrous morning's events from your thoughts.

" You do realise you're in Small Heath, right?" She giggled, pulling a laugh from the frustrated pout that had weighed down your lips as you shimmered off the rest of your stockings under the cover of your wooden desk. Small Heath, you was begining to realise just what kind of place it was.

The remainder of the morning was thankfully a lot less eventful. You'd spent almost the entirety of it signing for letters, each delivery boy hanging around for a chat to see the latest newcomer to the Shelby offices after word had gotten around about the pretty-faced girl Thomas Shelby had hired. Though, every interaction had not gone missed by the watchful eye of the very man who had brought you into his firm, the same man who was starting to get increasingly angry with what he thought were your distracted priorities. Unbeknownst to you, you had already handed him two documents that didn't need signing for another month, and the ones that did have a deadline had all but gone missing. Second day of work, and you were unknowingly still making a mess of everything. The next interaction, or what Tommy believed, distraction, would be one he'd swiftly put a stop to before the annoyance his Aunt Polly had burdened him with got any ideas.

"Y/N love, come and meet Michael, my son" Polly ushered you over to her desk as you scooted out of your seat, catching the eye of Tommy who was watching you from his office through the glass windowed door separating you.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance again, Y/N" he said reaching his hand out for you to take as Polly looked straight ahead at her nephew who was now stood up at the window watching the whole interaction, his deathly stare enough for her to know he was getting progressively frustrated at the attention your presence had brought to the office. Was his dear, loving Aunt doing this on purpose? Tommy seethed to himself as he watched you smile to his cousin. Never having been able to stop her nephews' depraved ways, maybe this was her attempt at bringing Tommy's "Hobbies" to an end. For she knew better than anyone how your innocent beauty had already captivated him, how he'd already set his sights on his next endeavor. If his Aunt thought he would not take the needed measures to dispose of her beloved son, her judgment in his determination to get what he wanted was severely lacking, severely.

" Right yes, hi" you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks having now learned of whom the third man was that saw your misfortunate leggy display. " Sorry you had to see that" you said looking up through your lashes as you fidgeted with the pendant of your necklace sitting on your chest.

" Well, it was certainly one way to leave a lasting impression" he replied with a chuckle as you silently begged for the floor to swallow you up, and not leave one ounce of you left to endure the remaining embarrassment you were sure you hadn't heard the end of.

" Alright that's enough, leave the poor girl alone. She's had enough ribbing from us lot all bloody morning" Polly said as she lit a cigarette, the corners of her eyes turning up to match her smile at her son's less than subtle enamorment with you. " Y/N's been having trouble with her typewriter Michael"

" Uh huh.." Michael could all but reply as he watched your lashes flutter in the evening sun beaming through the windows as your fingers flicked through the file of documents on Polly's desk.

" Maybe you could show her...how to change the ink cartridge?" Polly encouraged him as you finally looked up to see the young man staring back at you.

" Erh yeh, sure" he promptly replied, sending you a smile to diffuse the look of confusion on your face. What had him all flustered? You thought to yourself furrowing your brow as you showed him to your desk whilst Polly sent her nephew a satisfied smirk. So she was doing this on purpose, purposely getting under his fucking skin. Tommy thought to himself as he marched to his door.

" Y/N, my office. Now" Tommy's voice boomed as he waited, checking his pocket watch in what could only be a blatant sign for you to, hurry the fuck up.

"Excuse me" you said bolting away from the young man with Tommy's appointment book in hand, tucking your hair behind your ear as you entered what felt like a triangle of stares between Tommy, his Aunt and cousin.

"Don't have something to do, Michael?" Tommy asked with a quizzical brow, not bothering to wait around for a response when his cousin opened his mouth before Tommy slammed his office door shut. " Sit" he demanded, his tone of voice absent of the niceties from the previous day as he leaned against the frame of the window lighting a cigarette, his eyes studying you from head to toe. Whatever did happen to your stockings? Tommy mused as his eyes darted down to your bare legs, his tongue wetting at how far up those legs he had seen mere hours ago." Now correct me if I'm wrong, but did you not say you were serious about your position in my offices? No distractions? Is my cousin a distraction for you Y/N?" Tommy said clearing his throat, flicking a scattering of ash into a decorative glass dish resting on the windowsill as he looked out onto the streets below him. Day-dreaming would have to wait.

"What?...No, no! You replied profusely shaking your head, feeling your emotions bubble up from an overwhelming start to your new life in Birmingham, and the telling off you were undoubtedly about to get from the most feared man in the smoke-fogged town.

"And the delivery boys are they a distraction too?" Tommy said as he blew a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling before the heavy sound of his pristinely polished boots traveled across the room to the edge of the desk in front of you, the buckle of his belt at eye level causing you to glance away in embarrassment. Well, isn't that sweet? Tommy chuckled to himself, your blushing cheeks giving him enough reassurance to know you weren't a woman of loose morals like the others.

" No. No...I was just being friendly, I..." You said feeling your eyes suddenly brimming with tears as he sat down on the edge of the desk. You had made a fool of yourself, once again.

" Friendly. Anyone else you plan on being friendly with love? Does the whole of Small Heath have the pleasure of looking forward to your charm?" He replied with a tone of disdain and irritation as you searched for a response. You were just trying to get by in what felt like a completely different world, just trying to be nice. " And here's me thinking you were serious about working for me" Tommy said with a look of disappointment spread across his face as he glanced down at your eyes fixed on your thumbs frantically rubbing against each other as a shame you hadn't felt in your attempts to be cordial suddenly heated your cheeks to a fiery warmth with every loud thump of your quickened heart. " Maybe you're not suited for this line of work, hm? Tommy said arching a brow as he went to stand up, and you, without an ounce of reflection, grabbed hold of your boss's leg.

" Please don't fire me..." You sobbed, your emotions finally getting the better of you. " I was just...trying to be nice" you wept, clutching onto him as Tommy's lips parted at the unexpected, but undoubtedly welcome contact of your delicate grip on him." I'm sorry" you said quickly pulling your hand away suddenly realising how inappropriate you had been. Is that what he thought you were, an immature girl that loved the thrills of flirting with any man in her presence? You thought to yourself as you tucked your hands under your thighs, shamefully looking up at your boss and the piercing stare he was now giving you.

" Y/N, there are two things I expect from my employees. Professionalism and trustworthiness. But from you, I expect a third" Tommy said as he watched your tears stream down your cheeks, hanging on to every word he said. " Loyalty" he finished as your fidgeting suddenly stopped and you locked eyes, Tommy's briefly darting between your own and your cherry red lips now stained from your trickling tears. Everything about you was so intoxicating, even that expensive perfume you had probably spent half of your life savings on. Lemon and aldehyde was it? Chanel No5. My my, someone was trying to make a good impression. Was this all for him? Tommy thought to himself as he watched you nod your head in agreement, desperately trying to hold onto your new life, and it's future he now held in his hands.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you. It won't happen again " you replied to the very man who's whole agenda has suddenly become, you.

" Good " Tommy ended his interrogation as you wiped your tears from your cheeks, searching in your skirt pocket for anything to dab away your embarrassment when your handkerchief fell onto the floor. " Sweet Afton's" Tommy chuckled, raising a brow as he picked up the burnt out cigarette between his fingers you had found that very morning. An unusual thing to save. He thought to himself when he suddenly realised, had you seen him? Had you been... meddling? " Would have taken you for more of a Craven A girl" Tommy said throwing the burnt rolled cylinder of tobacco in a bin next to his desk, clearing his throat as you watched your only evidence and reminder of the previous nights events being discarded of. "Here" Tommy said pulling out a fresh square of neatly folded cotton from within his suit jacket and handing it to you as he bent down to pick up your own, his finger grazing momentarily over the smoothness of your leg as he swiftly placed yours in his pocket as you wiped you cheeks.

" It's not mine" you confessed without realising the severity of what you had just said. So you had seen him. Tommy thought to himself as he tried to gauge exactly how much. " Sweet Afton's, I've never heard of that brand. Is it new? " You inquired as you sniffed away your remaining tears.

"New enough " Tommy replied, a small smirk playing on the corner of his mouth over something so mundane and insignificant as the brand of a cigarette you naively thought the man that had been watching you only used. Did you think you could fish out the owner of a cigarette that the majority of the country smoked? Tommy quietly chuckled to himself as a glint of mischievousness shone in his eyes, the sweetness in your naivety sending a shiver of goosebumps down his spine. You wouldn't last in Small Heath, even as a Londoner. Tommy thought to himself, waiting for another one of your queries as if this was a playful game, him having the upper hand, of course. But when your sweet voice stayed silent, Tommy could only assume you knew nothing more of his little late night stroll that just so happened to end up in front of your home. " Michael has a particular liking for them"

"Michael, Polly's son?" You asked, your brow quickly furrowing as Tommy watched your thoughts frantically tick over.

"An acquired taste. I tend to be more of a Woodbines smoker. Tobacco of the working man" Tommy lied, betting on your naivety to believe him as he continued to further sow the seeds of your suspicious mind.

" Woodbines? I'd say you've surpassed the class of a working man, wouldn't you Sir? " You replied as you looked around his costly office filled with luxurious rich mahogany furniture and the finest of staples any man of the upper class would possess.

" I'll let you be the judge of that Miss Y/L/N" Tommy replied, his mouth parting at your use of such formalities. Maybe he could do things the proper way this time, the correct way. He thought to himself as his eyes drifted down to the way the small rose pendant on the end of your necklace subtly moved with each breath you took, playfully luring him in. Who was he kidding, he would be a fool to think he could be so patient. And Tommy was no fool.

"I should get back to work" you said standing up, your movements snapping Tommy out of his deviant thoughts as you headed for his office door.

" Y/N" he stopped you, catching your elbow before you opened the door. " I feel I may have been a little harsh with you hm? " He confessed, the sudden softness in his voice catching you of guard. A brief glimpse into his lesser intimidating side piquing your curiosity.

" You wasn't" you looked up doe-eyed, your telling off still uncomfortably too recent to forget. For what was the briefest of moments, you found yourself getting completely lost in the oceans of his eyes as the man that never showed an ounce of fear held your gaze. There was something about him you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it his charm, the authority he possessed or something entirely different? With each fraction of a second that past, you began to feel he was hiding a whole different self behind his crystal eyes as you sunk deeper into his stare.

"Y/N" Polly's voice awoke you from what had only been mere seconds of you pondering who your boss really was.

" There's a delivery that needs your signature" she said holding the door open as Tommy let go of your elbow, his Aunt looking right past you to her nephew who was now causally leaning against the frame of the door, watching you gracefully walk away.

"Not this one Tommy. You let her be. She's a good girl, she deserves someone..." Polly said standing in front of his line of sight, blocking him from the only thing his mind was hell-bent on having before he cut her off.

" What? Someone Like Michael?" He replied with a scoff as he reached into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. " I feel a change Aunty, a good one" he smiled wickedly, blowing the fumes from his cigarette in her face. " Now, stay out of it" he warned, his smile quickly dropping as the blues of his eyes turned to coal. " We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt from you interfering, would we? He smirked as he nodded to her son Michael in the adjoining office.

" You wouldn't dare" Polly's eyes widened, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave, a mere shrug of his shoulder and a sharp look he had conjured up from the very depths of hell, worthy of his only true fiery opponent enough for her to let go as she stepped back with heed.

" Wouldn't I?..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem49-blog @pacifymebby @indierockgirrl @globetrotter28 @theshelbyclan @zablife @call-sign-shark @red-riding-wood @peakyswritings @everysage

229 notes · View notes

barbwritesstuff · 2 months

Note

LET ME RAISE GAIUS AND GIVE HIM MODERN CHILDHOOD </3 I WILL WATCH ALL YOUR SOCCER GAMES MY LORD <////3

Your phone rings.

You: "G'day. Blackwell's Roadside Diner: You kill 'em, we grill 'em!"

Lucius: *with barely contained fury* "What have you done with the king?"

You: "Oh, he's fine. He's playing with the other sprogs. Go get em', your majesty!"

Lucius: "The... other... sprogs? You don't mean... children... do you?"

Meanwhile, Gaius is sitting in the middle of the soccer pitch, staring at all the kids running around him, having some vivid flashbacks to the punic wars.

#I don't know why I made MC a middle aged Australian #but I did #it just felt right in the moment

131 notes · View notes

downundergarfield · 1 year

Note

Hello 👋

can I get each mercs reaction to near death experience with S/O

your writing is cool <33

G'day!! Thanks for the compliment! I tried to write something short but cozy for each mercenary, I hope it doesn't look damp or bland <:)

Mercs with S/O who survived near death experience

Tw!...near death experience?

A bright flash. A rough blow against the wall. There's still a lot of pain coming from nowhere. You are lying on a wooden floor almost under the open sky on the tufort balcony.

At first you tried to rest on your hands, but it caused hellish pain. You cough, feeling the corners of your lips warm with blood. The last thing you see before you pass out is how the Medic hurriedly runs towards you with a field first aid kit and holding the coat from falling.

You wake up for a while. Honestly, you couldn't tell how long you'd been out. Feelings are slowly returning, the torso hurts, both inside and out, the head is splitting, but when the vision returns, you see all the brave mercenaries around your hospital couch.

"- oohoh! Gut!! you survived the procedure!"

Says the German accent you know.

Everyone exhaled. You needed to be alone with yourself. All the mercenaries came out, telling you that's everything okay

You kept lying there. Until there was a knock on the door. It was N/M. He wanted to check on you.

Scout:

This joker has never looked so lost. He quickly darted to your bed, sat on a stool next to you and looked at you with his puppy dog eyes.

"- God, I am, I was so scared, I was so scared, I couldn't think of anything but you, I was so scared that I would lose you, The medic said that you could die, I was so scared, I-I "

"- ahhh" you say, raising a calm hand to his lips. He wiped away his tears and calmed down more or less.

"-Y/N, you know how scary it was... But I.. I'm happy that you're okay! Honestly!"

You smile at him, he smiles at you

he hugs you tightly, but trying not to damage the fresh seams

Soldier

He came in and sat down without any unnecessary words or movements, but his big mouth betrayed all his emotions.

"You know, Y/N, I've lost a lot of soldiers on the battlefield. I've lost Sour Joe, Smelly Joe, and even Mighty Joe."

You nodded understandingly, looking away. Then you felt his heavy and big cold hand on your arm.

"- and I'm very glad that I didn't have to lose you too, Y/N. You are a good soldier, real good, maybe even the best."

He rested his helmet head on your side, causing a little pain from the scars on your chest and held your hand with both hands.

Next to him, death is not terrible. You sat like that for a long time until you fell asleep from the cozy feeling that this American next to you caused.

Pyro

They come into the ward, humming something to themselves, sit on a stool next to you and immediately grab your hand.

You can hear their terrified bellowing, they were very afraid for you, very much. They brought you a bunch of sweets and delicious drinks. You suggested that Piro relax a little.

They took out toy ducklings and started showing you concerts with them. It was charming how much they were interested in making you happy.

Anxiety receded quickly, while this mumbling lump of happiness was nearby.

Demoman

You're surprised you didn't notice him even before he opened the door. Usually the Demo is immediately noticeable by the smell of alcohol or drunken speeches. But not today. The Scotsman sat down next to you, taking your hand in his big warm palm

"-laddy, please, be careful next time, alright?"

You smiled and nodded to him.

"-I couldn't even drink all this time, I was afraid that I would lose you.."

He rested his big lips on your forehead and closed his eye, kissing your forehead.

"- next time I won't let anyone near you, do you hear? They will shatter into small pieces."

You smiled at his words, deserved another kiss on the forehead.

You talked for a long time about what happened while you were away.

Heavy

A broad-shouldered figure entered the ward, you felt really big hands on your hands

"- My God, how could I let this happen."

You comfort him by stroking his huge hands.

"- I'm glad that you stayed alive. Darling, please be careful next time, I don't want to lose you."

You nodded, giving him a warm smile.

"-I brought you a couple of books, do you mind if I read Nekrasov to you?"

You nodded with a smile. Although I was worried that you might not understand something.

But it was nice for you to hear his native speech and see how he smiles from the realization that you like to listen to his native speech. You knew that most likely he does this to distract you from bad thoughts. He often read different writers to you to calm down or lull

"-Гляжу с тоской на розы я и тернии

И думой мчусь на край миров:

Моя душа в Саратовской губернии,

У светлых волжских берегов.

Я близ нее! О рай, о наслажденье!

Как на мечтах я скоро прискакал!

Бывало, я имел туда хождение

И словно конь почтовый уставал..."

Engineer

The engineer turns up next to you pretty quickly

"-oh, sorry, partner, I couldn't be there, you know..."

You calm him down with a nod

"-if it helps you, I've collected special stilts for you. With the help of them, you will be able to get back on your feet 3 days faster than expected! I tested them with a Medic, he said that everythin' should be fine!!"

You could see the sparkle in his eyes, even through his goggles.

"thank you, Dell."

You say it softly. It was actually quite painful to speak. But after hearing your speech, he relaxed even more

"-darlin', I couldn't sleep all those nights how long you were gone! I'm glad that everything is fine. I don't want to lose you." he raises your hand to kiss it.

You nodded to him with a smile, pet the robotic hand, he gently moved towards you to kiss you on the cheek.

Medic

He was sitting in the office next to you the whole time, nervous and watching how you were feeling. As soon as you felt good enough, and the beeping devices attached to you began to show some indicators that were clear only to him, Ludwig jumped up to your bed holding your hands and rejoicing

"- Yes!!! Yes!! I was able to save you! Zhis is my greatest triumph! Another 2 minutes and your torn stomach would have killed you! But I managed to fix everyzhing. Patched up zhere, here, you are the crown of my work in medicine over the past year! Hohohoo~"

You were happy that your beloved psycho is doing well. He's so charmingly proud of himself.

He was there for the rest of the time. Sometimes by injecting something into you or giving you pills. Your condition only improved, and the pain receded. He's really a master at it! you ask him to come closer to kiss his forehead

"Oh, no-no-no herr Y/N, you can't move yet! Ich do it myself!" and he comes closer, kissing your forehead. Kind and truly loving

Sniper

You woke up from familiar warm hands on your own, the Sniper looked sad, but still managed to smile for you

"-Those were the scariest 4 days of my life in this year ..."

You know how hard Bushman is going through the loss of relatives. And you were very dear to him. That's why the poor man was so worried.

You stroke his hair on his hand, suddenly remembering that you have something to show him.

You carefully try to open your hospital gown and show him your Y shaped incision. The Medic left it when he was piecing your body together.

He shuddered when he saw it. But he thought it was cute that you decided to point out this little similarity between you

"- thank you. I won't let anyone else get close to ya. I've already found that wanker. Unlike ya, no one will put his brains back into his skull."

You giggled as much as it was possible in your position.

Mick lay on your shoulder and stroked your head in complete silence for a very long time. Until you fell asleep next to him..

Spy

A man in a balaclava shows up in your room with an abstracted face

"You should have been much more careful, it's like you forgot all my stealth lessons"

He didn't blame you, he was just upset.

The Frenchman sat down next to you anyway, stroked your head and took the cigarette out of his mouth

"Please, never hurt yourself like that again. I was very worried"

He hugs you, gently, without touching your aching chest. Sorry.

You sit quietly for as long as it takes while he tells you what happened while you were gone

645 notes · View notes