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#ik that last bit sounds less than favorable
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Well I left the dump fandom and long while ago so i wanted to post an old wip fic. It was such a passion project but I never finished it because of technos death so I'll leave it here (and it's concept notes).
!! Wilburs mentioned a few times so don't be alarmed this was from like 2022, I promise I don't support that twat !!
--
The roaring sound of the crowd was something Techno never got used to.
They were always too loud.
That combined with the curse of his crown the voices of 100,000 people constantly yelling around him, always led to migraines that would last for days.
Yet he continues to fight in the arenas when he's invited.
He has too, it's the only thing that calms the voices.
It keeps him away from his family, he hates that. He wants so bad to stay in the castle and listen to Wilbur play his latest song, or watch Dad write in his study. Let Mom tell him stories like when he was little. He prays for the day he has perfect silence, because that's the day he can look at his little brother and not feel shame. The voices hurt Tommy and now Tommy hates him. Tommy's only 10 he doesn't need to know about the voices, it's already confusing enough for him to wonder why his brother held a sword to his throat after he asked to play.
Techno hates himself for it, he wants things to be different. He wants to be a good brother, because he loves Tommy. He really does.
"BLOOD GOD TECHNOBLADE! TODAY IS THE DAY YOU FALL FROM YOUR PEDESTAL!" The crowd screams, they seem to really favor the new guy lately. He hopes they aren't getting tired of him, that would be bad for his name. "Sure, like I'm gonna lose to a homeless man." He's sure if the guy wasn't wearing a mask he would've seen his eye twitch. "I'm NOT homeless." Techno just laughs. "Wow! So you think homeless are bad? Cancel this man, get him out of here." The new guy started studdering trying to defend himself Techno assumes to stay in public favor.
"What, no! I didn't say that, you're putting words in my mouth." Techno would've responded but his thoughts were cut short by the announcer.
"All right! Our match today is the All Mighty Blood God verses, our newest fight who's been quickly rising up the ranks.. Dream Wastaken!"
Techno blinks almost dumbfounded, "Wastaken? What kind of title is that? It sounds dumb."
Techno must have struck a nerve with that remark, Dream suddenly went still and took his position.
"I'll have your head Blood God," he could see a green glow from under his mask.
"HA, like hell you will"
The announcer signals the start and Techno lets himself go and all he sees is red.
Dream raises his sword and stabs towards Technos abdomen. Techno takes his axe and swings to hit the blade away. He ends up hitting the handle of the sword cutting deep into Dreams hands
Dream staggers back dropping his sword and clutching his hands. He inhales sharply the audience collectively gasps.
---
Yeah not much writen ik but here's the plans I had written in my drafts, it's so nostalgic to reread.
it starts out as Sbi + Mumza but techno and tommy get separated from Phil, Kristen, and Wilbur
(Wilbur is 17, Techno is 15 so hes less than wilbur because fuck you, and Tommy is 11)
So it's parentsduo + Wilbur and then also Bedrock bros, eventually they fins their way back to eachother. Techno and Tommy used to have this kinda tense relationship, they both cared alot about each other but Tommy always got along with Wilbur more. (Techno wasnt jealous of that, not at all.) but they just thought the other disliked them, and it's bothered them for years and now it's time for Techno to be cool and strong big brother for tommy. Being there for when he has nightmares to tell him stories, or reminding him that they WILL find the rest if their family. Running from zombies with the only weapons you have being swords and bows is a little bit difficult. but he does have one thing, his axe that was gifted to him by a neighboring kingdoms prince. To replace the one that was ruined in a duel he participated in on their behalf. Which they may or may not run into that prince and his betrothed (also his son?!?!?!?)along the way... Wilbur misses his brothers every single day, no matter how much his parents try to comfort him that they will be okay and that Techno is capable. He just can't shake the feeling that at every waking moment that he's not looking for them. They're getting hurt. He wishes it was him and Techno that got separated, cause then atleast Tommy would be with phil and Kristen. He wouldn't need to worry about his brother. He knows Techno will protect Tommy with his life.. but that's what he's worried about. If Techno dies protecting Tommy then what happens after? Tommy is left wandering untill inevitably hes... So he hopes Techno doesn't have to do soemthing that wreckless Because if he does, he'll lose BOTH of his brothers. and personally he'd rather not have that become a reality."
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Audio
Another general self ship song / it makes me think of numerous ships of mine
You always want to watch Somethin' late at night That terrifies you And then you make me stand guard At the bedroom door I wanna know everythin' you do
No, I never mind Do it a thousand times Just let me close to you 'Cause in the dead of night With you by my side There's no cold that could cut through
...
I talk a lot of shit for someone that can't talk Then you send it back to my face, love You never pull punches and never will stop I hope you never do, babe
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stufftippywrote · 4 years
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Not My Type (fake dating AU) part 3
Part one | Part two
Help
He texts Lardo as soon as he can get free. It takes a handful of "no comment"s and some apologetic nods, but eventually the reporters lose the fire in their eyes, everyone goes back to being their dignified banquet selves, and he can fight his way out into the hallway.
Out here, the lights are lower, and the sounds of music and people are muffled through the wall. It's something of a respite for Jack, who sometimes gets caught up in scenes like this; too much around him and nothing to focus on, no object for him to put up tunnel vision around and block out everything else. In a crowded stadium, there's the puck, the feel of the ice under his blades. At a party like this, there's ... nothing. Just light and sound and too many people.
An answer finally comes from Lardo. Why help?
I don't know what to do. His thumbs feel huge and clunky on the thin skin of the phone.
Did you meet him?
He just manages to hit the Y key and the send button when he's interrupted by the clearing of a tenor throat.
Bitty -- Eric, Jack tries to correct himself, but Bitty really seems to fit much better -- is standing there, bowtie a little askew. He's glaring a little -- not full-on mad, just sober and determined. Jack feels the stare like it's the crack of a whip. He straightens up.
"Mr. Zimmermann, isn't it?" Bitty says. Jack nods. "Well, Mr. Zimmermann, I must have scoured every inch of that room for you."
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm--" He's stating the obvious like an idiot. "I've been out here."
"Do you want to keep doing this or not?" Bitty asks. "Are we done? I'm trying to help you out, but if you'd rather I don't, I have dishes to wash."
A pang of regret stings Jack. That's right, this guy is doing him a favor. It's for one night, and then he never has to see him again. "Right," he says, "Sorry."
His phone vibrates in his head. He looks down to see the text from Lardo:
Then, **flirt.**
Jack clears his throat and meets Bitty's eyes. "Do you ... want to dance?"
----
There are murmurs and a few more camera flashes as they make their way to the dance floor. It's not much of a dance floor; a jazz trio is doing old standards and only a handful of couples are old-style dancing, having polite conversations as they sway and turn in slow circles.
Jack reaches for Bitty, takes his shoulder instead of his waist because of the difference in their heights. It feels odd -- it's not the way he danced with girls in middle school, before juniors. Come to think of it, that may be the last time he danced, period.
Bitty seems to think nothing of it. He lays his fingertips lightly on Jack's waist, a barely-there touch, and offers his other hand. Jack reaches out to take it, but Bitty smiles -- a half-smile, coy as the moon behind a cloud -- and holds it back a moment. "Are you sure?" he half-teases. "Not too much?"
Jack's answer is to take firm hold of his hand and swing them around before relaxing into the rhythm of the music. If he's going to have to do this, he'll do it right.
Several bars of music go by, the two of them just sort of swaying there like a pair of reeds. It's awkward. It's so awkward. Bitty's smiling, but it's a fake smile now, for the benefit of those around them. Jack doesn't even think to smile himself. He tries to concentrate on the one-two-three-four of the music.
"Well," Bitty says through the false smile, "you're going to have to talk to me, sweetheart. Or at least smile. If you want them to buy this."
Jack shakes himself. "Um. Yeah. Sorry." He tries to smile, but it feels even faker than Bitty's. "So, Lard-- I mean, Larissa told you the situation?"
"Yes, I heard all about it." Bitty pauses. "It's brave, what you did."
"I -- thank you." Jack's heard that before, and he's not sure what to do with it. He's not doing this to look like a hero. The whole point is it shouldn't take bravery to say who you are.
"I mean it!" Some genuineness seems to warm the everpresent smile, a softness in Bitty’s nut-brown eyes. "If there'd been someone like you when I was growing up, maybe-- well, maybe I could have gotten into hockey."
"Not a fan, eh?" Jack may be stereotyping, but he's not surprised. Bitty doesn't exactly look the part of a hockey fan.
"It's so violent." Bitty actually shudders. Jack can feel him tremble. "But I was never into contact sports. I barely made it through peewee football."
There's something about that visceral reaction that tickles Jack. At least this guy is reasonably easy to talk to, when he's not smooching people out of the blue. "Why'd you agree to do this?"
"A favor for Larissa," Bitty shrugs, his shoulder rising slightly against Jack's hand. "She's the one who got me into this catering gig. Truth is, this is a side hustle. I own a little bakeshop down near the river, but it barely breaks even. So I owed her one for getting me into the black. Besides--"
He cuts off, smile disappearing, and a bit of color touches his cheeks. "Oh, gosh, listen to me ramble on."
"Besides what?"
"Nothing, I'm just going off at the mouth, never mind me."
Jack frowns. "Now I want to know."
Bitty exhales noisily. "She might have told me you were my type. Which you're not," he adds pointedly.
At this, Jack has to crack a smile. "Hah! You're not my type either."
But is that really true? The longer Jack dances with Bitty, the more familiar and pleasant the feel of his hand becomes. His shoulder's corded muscle underneath Jack's hands, and while he talks a blue streak, Jack doesn't hate the sound of his voice. And there's something about the way his chin turns up, the angle of his face just now...
"Well! As long as we're clear," Bitty says with a smile that's half-mean. "And it's just for tonight, anyway. I don't know what she thought she was setting up here. I only agreed to one evening."  He sniffs haughtily, then grins.
"I appreciate it," Jack offers, unsure what else to say. So that crushes that almost-hope, just now. Bitty's declared this a one-shot. Anything else Jack might have started to feel is immaterial.
"Look, Mr. Zimmermann..." Bitty's gaze drops to the floor. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I surprised you like that. I thought for sure Larissa would have told you what I'm like."
"No." He imagines no warning could have prepared him for that initial greeting, though. "It's okay, though. You were trying to do your job."
"And I've learned my lesson." Bitty lets Jack sway him through a half-turn. "See? I'm letting you lead."
He is letting Jack lead, and Jack wonders what he can get away with. Spinning him around? Dipping him? He has a feeling Bitty would be up to all of it.
And for a moment, what Jack really wants to do -- just for a moment -- is to pull Bitty closer. Just to see what he'd do. To see the way Bitty's body feels against his own. To see if he could slide his thumb across Bitty's collarbone to his neck, tilt that chin up just a little further -- see if he couldn't really make the papers talk about him --
Jack shakes himself out of it. Where did that come from? It's not like him at all, to think these things, and he wonders if he had a little too much wine tonight. Besides. He already knows he's not Bitty's type.
-----
After the song ends, and Bitty returns to tend to his catering duties, the night drags on long and boring. Jack doesn't know many people here, and the small talk with those he does know dries up fast. But Jack lingers. If he can't do anything more, he can at least give Bitty the proper thanks for what he's done for him tonight.
He finally catches up with him as the last of the attendees start to file out. "Thanks for tonight," he says, reaching out a hand to shake.
Bitty grabs his hand and holds on. "They're still watching," he says with a glint of amusement in his voice. "Look like you like me."
"I -- yeah, I guess they are." Jack casts his gaze to the side; not many people are left, but those who are there are certainly looking. He takes Bitty's other hand. "Anyway, I'm leaving. And I wanted to say thank you."
"Well, you're welcome," Bitty says, "but I have to admit it's gonna be a relief to slink off back to anonymity. People looking at you so much! How do you handle it? I have creepie-crawlies all up on my skin." He shudders and makes a face that Jack can't help but laugh at.
"Anyway. I just wanted to say good night. And thanks again."
"Mr. Zimmermann." There's something sober in Bitty's eyes, but also something teasing. A spark inside a storm. "We should probably say good night like a couple."
"Like a-- oh." Heat blossoms behind Jack's cheeks. "You mean--"
"Don't worry," Bitty says, "it'll be over quickly."
"I -- yes." The heat is itching up into his scalp now. "Okay." He closes his eyes and braces himself.
The second that follows is excruciatingly long. He expects the sensation on his cheek again, wetness and pressure. At least he's expecting it this time.
But what comes is light as a feather, settling on his mouth ike the whisper of a butterfly. It's sweet, and impossibly soft, and for less than an instant Jack's tasting it, dying to reach out for more.
It ends before he's ready. Bitty pulls back, and Jack looks at him with blank eyes, lips tingling and the taste of sugar inexplicably on his tongue.
"Real couples don't kiss on the cheek," Bitty informs him. "Well, I think we've sold it pretty good now. Have a good life, Mr. Zimmermann! I hope I was helpful."
Jack's tongue is heavy, leaden in his mouth. His lips slowly part. "Yes. Uh. Thank you."
And then Bitty turns blithely away and heads back to his work, and that's it. It's all over. And, just as planned, Jack will never see him again.
He wishes that thought didn't make him feel quite so sad.
Part Four
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mcnypieces · 4 years
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@gcrifin​ ferried:  Windswept hair loosened from recent flight, form dipped just so to slide through the stone arc of a permanently open window. Wings steadied just to stay afloat, heeding situations like a plea for attention. More flits of the figure around the bends of his body, looping various muscles, scaling up the front of his chest to hover indiscreetly before golden eyes. One advantage taken, cheek pressed gingerly to rough stubble, slowly rolled till the corner of lips graze skin and pull away. Temptation keeps her body from drifting too far but never completely stills the heart. Fleeting risks soared only at the quiet hope of requital. 
     Undisturbed in a moment wrought with crippling thought. Sulked silence, some kind of respite tainted with painful awareness. Ever a constant state for stone pulled from disaster. Helmet aside, anger rolling new creases along his facial structure with every new private reveal. It was a sharp scalpel etching features in place. One line at a time; wasting no effort, giving no warning. Left alone to the pull of silence was the only comfort enough to soothe the wrath which so fervently scalded his veins. It’s an uncomfortable itch, an appetite never sated, left to sustain on something only mildly filling while it rests at an uneasy standstill. To say it was consoling felt far too lenient. The feeling was tolerable, enough to show him some semblance of ease when presented in such a careful manner. Small tilts of a scale were prone to disrupt the goliath balanced precariously on an edge between rigid collectedness and total collapse .
    Every movement is a bit heavier than the last, restless and never once deciding to properly sit. There was never a moment for solace when one stood for something else. Breaking for none, succumbing to nothing, always aware of something even caught in thoughtful sea running red. Everything came in the blink of an eye and never hesitated. Pica’s focus was unyielding even in its lowest output; hardly aimless, only wavering to some self-conscious agenda repeatedly pushed to the side in favor of proper thought. How fortunate to have one such as himself on constant guard. Away from the games, separated from trivial pursuits, left only with duty and rage in the hand. They were the only requirements. Everything else was unnecessary ─ carved out of him like hollowed shapes in stone .
     Thus unexpected becomes expected, trailing the tail end of a hazy thought as if summoned by possibilities. Wind catches wings in audible gusts, once or twice enough to rouse an otherwise over-thoughtful attention towards an open arch. Feeling grows, subsides, cast into nothing upon the sight of a golden visage made shamefully present. Visits were becoming customary just at eventide. On days he did not return with haste she still waited, patient and unperturbed like a statue of porcelain unaware of its worrisome place atop a shelf amidst an earthquake. Every other day, in and out, without a moment of delay. For so long there were nothing but questions without answers. It was vexing, interfering with time in a place meant only for himself. Little thought was ever needed to push that presence off the windowsill, thoughts waiting for the sound of something fragile shattering against the concrete below and never hearing it again. Yet the sound never came. The light continued to descend into his room every other evening just as the sun would set. Divinity cupped her in its hands and refused to let anything pry it open, not even the unrestrained fury of his hands. In time it had begun to chip at his ruthless demeanor, melting into familiar tolerance, until that light began to pour into the cracks the passing erosion left behind .
     In his mind he begged her to stop. Pleaded and prayed. But still she returned .
     Like a little bird flitting on the edge of vision, zipping to and fro in the spirit of a hummingbird skimming trumpet-mouthed flowers. There was irritation within it once, the sort common with brute force unable to snuff out the fluttering of something insignificant in a single open-palm strike. Swift despite size, that grace often proved a difficult adversary in the face of physical strength. She rises, falls, entwining each part of his being in ways none ever dared tried. It was inconceivable letting something so terribly close to the core stationed behind walls. Would be she could pluck away those secrets untouched and deliver them in deeper, refined tones than he had ever possessed. Every instinct seeks to break the neck of a bird and yet, he cannot bring himself to act. Newfound feeling springing to life around the foundations hardly touched by her grow vines in his joints. The Spade does not move, hardly so much as thinks. Frustration in lack of understanding beats against the surface of glossed over eyes but never breaks past the blank stare cutting holes into wall directly before him. Familiarity of stonework persists only for a second, clouded again by a sweet smile and green eyes staring thoughtfully into him. Something screams for any sign of focus and nothing seems to listen. It fades slowly, steadily, until it suddenly snaps into nothingness .
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     Living light presses gingerly against the skin of a shoulder, small hands anchored on its curvature as warm weight falls upon it. Insignificant to one meant to bear the weight of slate, almost feathered in touch. Heat crashes against his face as hers is brought onto him, the sensation of closeness turning dull aches into pulsing throbs. Unrest undulates against a ribcage without visible relief. The very place to feel the fondness of lips sprouts flowers, cementing a feeling unlike any other in the very make of his being. What horrid life it brings him, burying something undeniable within that he can’t take out anymore .
     He doesn’t understand! This audacity, the nerve she has to so effortlessly tear down each and every wall he shapes! No respect, no sense of danger, obliviously carving an intricate image of herself in his mind knowing how easily the weight of his outrage could rip the wings from her back ! 
     But it’s unbearable. Tenderness drifts away and the weight of the world comes back to take its place. He crumbles against the edge of an over-sized mattress and breathes. To be without it is to lose some faint source of stability. A hand reaches as if looking to be held only to harshly snatch her from the air. Tight, enough to feel the shape of her body beneath the grip. Wings protrude from between fingers, forcing an unexpected descent back upon the calloused surface of his skin. Hold loosened but firm, the bars of fingers pinning her to him in some pitiful excuse of an embrace. Head turned downward, small frame tucked beneath the corner of chin and neck, lavender cascading down golden locks and down to the small of her back. The rush of unexplained relief, some brush of dust and temporary caulk to something worn away by life. It’s another reminder of a man’s mortality; a sense of absolute terror overcome by some unrealized, uninvited desire . 
     Weak ─ he felt weak. That unmoving stone still falls apart with every meaningful, tender touch. But the disappointment of vulnerability felt less humiliating when Lulubelle was the only witness .
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leisurelypanda · 5 years
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Fic Year in Review 2018
This is only looking at works posted in AO3 (mostly because that’s the only platform I use). I found this meme through @thors-soft-cheeks and I’m gonna tag @duelingnebulas and @sergeantscarlett.
Total Word Count: 578,663
Total Fics Written: 17
Fandoms Written In: Fire Emblem, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tales of Berseria, Final Fantasy XV, and Rune Factory 4
Chronological List (by date completed):
February:
The Radiant Family 23.7k, E, Ike x Soren, modern au, mpreg, WIP
June: 
What Happens in Asgard... 5k, E, Stucky, post Infinity War, a/b/o, woke up mated
Cast Your Cares Aside 4.8k, E, Thundershield, Daddy Kink, written for Father’s Day, dom/sub
July:
Patriotic Duty 4.8k, E, Stucky, Happy Birthday Steve Rogers, dom/sub
Time to Pay Up 8.7k, E, Stucky, Lost a Bet, Friends to Lovers, Steve dressing up as a French Maid
Seasons of Love 11.5k, T, Thundershield, College AU, Teaching Assistant Thor x Student Steve
Offering of Praise 13.6k, E, Thor x Steve x Bucky (Winterthundershield, College AU, Thundering Heart Series, kink, dom/sub
A Port in a Storm 5.6k, E, Zaveid x Eizen, Hurt/Comfort Sex, Drinking, Semi-Platonic
August:
A Prince’s Burden 7.6k, E, Gladnoct, Daddy Kink, No Powers AU, dom/sub
September:
Ballad of the Thundering Heart 239k, M, Thor x Steve x Bucky (Winterthundershield), High School AU, no one is underage, trauma recovery, polyamory, slow burn
Callused Hands, Gentle Melodies 12.6k, E, Dylas x Frey, WIP, first time
October: 
Getting Pegged 4k, E, Steve x Peggy, Pegging, Moving In Together
December:
Baby, It’s Cold Outside 9k, E, Stucky, Shrinkyclinks, There Was Only One Bed, Friends to Lovers, Snowed In, dom/sub
Hail to the King 42.2k, E, Thundershield, Winterfrost, Consort AU, dom/sub, kinky, WIP, Porn Without Plot
Holiday Blues 6.8k, E, Thor x Steve x Bucky (Winterthundershield), lingerie, hurt/comfort, polyamory, Christmas fic, Thundering Heart Series
Who Says You Can Never Go Home Again? 102k, Stucky, a/b/o, sequel to What Happens in Asgard..., mpreg
Storm over Still Waters 32.5k, M, Thundershield, WIP, a/b/o, Steve saved from sex trafficking, kid!Bucky, Police Officer!Thor, trauma recovery
Did you write more fic this year than you thought you would, less, or about what you’d predicted?
Way, way more! Seriously, I had no idea I could write this much before this year!
What’s your own favorite story of this year?
Definitely Ballad of the Thundering Heart. I loved it from the very beginning. Everything was just so amazing and felt so natural. I was able to explore so much, from beginning relationships, to past abuse, to paganism, and (unexpectedly) polyamory. It was so much fun to write, too!
Did you take any writing risks this year?
Yes! Writing a story that suddenly turned polyamorous was kinda scary, not gonna lie. Also, writing a/b/o, a trope that I’ve enjoyed for a long time, but never really thought to try until this year. Both turned out pretty well, honestly. 
Do you have any fanfic goals for this year?
Yes! I’m wanna write a Stucky Werewolf AU fic, a Thundershield Merman AU fic, a MCU/Assassin’s Creed crossover story, finish my current WIPs, and write a shrinkyclinks sugar daddy story. I have many, many goals. We’ll see if I manage to achieve them all. 
What was...
My best story of the year:
Definitely Ballad of the Thundering Heart. Nothing since then has had quite the same feel of it. I’m definitely biased, though. 
My most popular story of the year:
Again, Ballad of the Thundering Heart, if we’re going by kudos, though Who Says You Can Never Go Home Again? got way more comments and a lot of traffic overall. 
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe (in my opinion): 
I’m definitely going to have to say A Prince’s Burden. That entire ship is under-appreciated, though. I thought it was good and sweet and kinky and I wish the Final Fantasy XV fandom appreciated Gladnoct more. 
Most fun story to write:
Ballad of the Thundering Heart. Honestly, I really have no idea how I’m ever going to top that story. 
Hardest story to write:
I’m definitely going to have to say Who Says You Can Never Go Home Again? Pregnancy is weird and hard and being someone who will never have to go through it makes the whole writing it aspect both interesting and really difficult. 
Biggest Disappointment:
I was really disappointed by the very small amount of reaction that Holiday Blues received. I think it deserves more love. 
Favorite Opening Lines: 
The throne room of Asgard was large and ornate. Vaulting pillars held up a mosaic ceiling depicting the history of their world. Sunlight streamed in through large arches that led out to the balconies overlooking the city. It was easily more beautiful than any official court on earth. Steve had gaped at it all every time he entered the room for days. Now, with conscious effort, he was able to avoid looking like a tourist.
Which was especially important, today of all days. Odin had died about 2 months ago. Now Thor was to be crowned King-Regnant of Asgard. Steve hadn’t seen him in about a week and so hadn’t seen Thor in his coronation garments. The only thing Steve has heard about it from Frigga and Loki was that they will be stunning.
If the throne room is anything to go by, that’s probably an understatement, Steve thought. The throne room was filled with people standing and milling around the sides of the room. All of them were dressed in plumage and regalia that put any human sovereign to shame. If they were humans, Steve would have thought of them as a flock of peacocks trying desperately to attract the attention of those with power and prestige.
They still might be, Steve mused. After all, he knew nothing of Asgardian politics. He’d never asked and Thor never brought it up.
Well, that wasn’t, strictly speaking, accurate. Steve did know one thing. His own outfit marked him as new king’s official consort. Not husband, for reasons of future inheritance, but it still labelled Steve as Thor’s lover and the one who was favored by Thor. Thor explained that even should he marry in the future, all the court would know that Steve was the one who was the recipient of Thor’s affections. It was, effectively, one of the most powerful positions in Thor’s court. Not that Steve cared about such things. He just wanted Thor in whatever capacity he could have him.
-from Hail to the King
Favorite closing lines:
“How’d I do?” Steve asked.
“I thought you did great,” Bucky said. “That last guy was way out of line.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I’m glad Sam’s becoming Cap, but especially because people like that guy will have to get used to saying referring to a black beta man as ‘Captain America’.”
“If I knew you were so eager to rock the boat, I woulda suggested this a long time ago,” Sam said with a grin. “I make this shield look good.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and flipped Sam off. Sam just laughed softly so as to not wake the babies who seemed to enjoy the sound of tv. At least, it got them to sleep for a bit. If it got them to sleep at night, Bucky would buy them the biggest, fanciest tv out there.
“So what now?” Bucky asked. Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky’s waist and pulled him close.
“Now, we go home,” he said.
-from Who Says You Can Never Go Home Again?
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kpopinionated · 7 years
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Malevolence malice
♦️ fluff, horror
♦️member: Taehyung
♦️warnings:some swearing
♦️ y/l/n = your last name. Y/n = your name. Y/e/c= your eyes color
Reader pov
My world was perfectly normal as it could be….said no one ever. The world was filled with dangers and fear that constantly ran through our veins like a river. The goosebumps and hair standing on end at the sight of the setting sun had us running for home in record time. There….there was something out there I knew it. Something that waited till the break of dusk to strike. A crime committed so frequently that have the police baffled beyond belief. The crime scenes they encounter to grotesque that even the most trained and undisturbed of them all become repulsed. Nobody even has a word to describe such a thing to do this kind of horror. The victims of such brutality is who I pray for. I cry silently each night and pray they have moved on peacefully, but I knew they hadn’t passed peacefully.
Because of these fears, mothers keep their children inside hours before dusk has broken through the blue skies. Everyone is in doors hours before the sun begins it setting stage. The unlucky are those who are out during dusk and therefore become victims of the grotesque attacks. Me? I was alone at first constantly watching my back even in broad daylight. Call me paranoid but I can feel it. I have a friend now - Jeon Jungkook is his name and occupation unknown. Even as his closest friend he refuses to tell me. It can’t be that bad I mean come on. I’m a seamstress at a little boutique in the town and Jungkook stresses that I get home at latest an hour before dark and I have except for this unfortunate night.
~~~
I had cleaned every my work surface of every fabric, wiping my brow in exhaustion before holding up my work of art. The beautifying floral dress I had put my blood, sweat, and tears into had come out absolutely stunning. Falling down to the knees, it was embroiled with elegant roses, lilies, cherry blossoms, gypsophila, and delphinium - radiating a beautiful pastel arrangement upon the soft fabric. I gently folded the dress into the tan box littered with elegant cursive and put the lid upon the top complete with a ribbon and a card signed by me.
I smiled as my final project of the day was done. I’d worked hours into making this dress specifically for madame Prescott who was living on the wealthier side of town. Bless her heart she’d come in the other day, eyes wild, and a pale complexion. Worry shined in her eyes as she danced from seamstress to seamstress before landing on me. She took quick steps and practically begged for this dress to be done. I had blinked in surprise at the request, as she had asked for it to be done in two days and when I’d given my own worried expression she doubled the pay for it and even gifted me an elegant mask and matching shoes from her own shop. So within two days I had done it and I was damn proud of my work.
I grabbed the box before glancing at the clock. “Just past 8 o'clock. I do hope she is around to get this.” I thought not at all thinking about the time of day it was. I slipped on my navy pea coat complete with a waist tie and headed out of the seam boutique, not before locking up of course. The chilly November air glided across my exposed cheeks and already rosey nose. The sky was darkened into a black with twinkling stars. My shoes scraped the ground silently as I bundled further into my jacket.
I somehow felt no fear as I got closer to madame Prescott’s boutique sighing in relief at the sight of lights inside. I picked up my pace and entered the shop with a signaled ding from the bell above the door. “Good evening Madame Prescott. I’m sorry to bother you this evening but I thought you’d like to have your dress on time so here you are.” I grinned at her as she clapped excitedly. “Wonderful thank you y/n, glad doing business with you. Let me get what I owe you dear just a second.” And she disappeared upstairs leaving me alone with her last client…jungkook? He looked just as surprised as I had, eyes wide open and mouth slightly dropped before his shock turned to confusion and slight anger?
“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked stepping closer to me before embracing me in a hug. I accepted the hug burying my head in his chest with a sigh.
“I was delivering madame her dress she ordered and I had to go this way so I thought might as well.”
Jungkook pulled back worry evident in his gaze. “Y/n, I meant what are you doing out after dusk. It’s dangerous out there. You should be home. You promised me you’d never be out after dusk. Aish. I couldn’t live with myself if one of those things ever got to you. It’d be dead before it got even five feet within you.” Throughout his speech his eyes darkened significantly with malice, as if he’d encountered the thing making the grotesque scenes to be found in the morning.
“Jungkook.” I whispered and his gaze snapped back to me. “You…you speak as if you’ve encountered one of those things. As if you do this often…like it’s your job. Jungkook what do you do? And don’t lie to me anymore. You tell me not to be out at night and yet here you are and by the looks of it you come out after dusk often. So tell me the truth Jungkook, no more lies.” I pleaded. He opened his mouth to reply but closed it upon madame Prescott’s footsteps on the staircase. “Here you are dear. My full payment and the mask plus shoes I promised included.” She grinned politely handing me a bag with exactly what I was promised. I bowed. “Thank you madame I hope you like the dress.”
She grinned back before turning to jungkook and handing him an identical bag, but not near as bulky as mine. “Here you are mr. Jeon exactly what you requested. You have a nice evening now. Be careful. In fact do me a favor and walk Miss y/l/n home. You know how dangerous it can be.” She addressed me this time. “No need to worry dear you are in good hands with mr. Jeon.” And with that we were on our way back out into the bitter cold.
We walked in silence before a Jungkook got tired of one too many calculating gazes and huffs from me. “Alright you want answers I’ll give you answers y/n, but you have to promise not to tell anyone and you have to promise to never be out this late ever again.” I nodded my head compiling with his requests.
He held out his pinky making me sigh before I wrapped my own around his and promised him. We continued walking as jungkook began to speak. “You as,ed if I had encountered one of the things that cause such horror in town and are capable of crimes that no one can explain.” He inhaled deeply as I bit my lip waiting. “The answer is yes I have. They are creatures so horrid and evil, taking the life of others for their own gain…it’s sick. They have no mercy, no hesitation. The victims become beacons, like magnets to them. It’s like a game to them, whoever finds the target first gets to do whatever they please with them…and it’s always less than pleasant. My job is to save as many of those potential victims at any cost. You know Sally Brown the little blonde girl? I saved her, barely, but I saved her. She screamed so loud and luckily I was just around the corner. I rushed to her and found her on her back with one of those things standing above her with a sick grin. Sally’s baby blues met mine and she pleaded for help…my help. The creature was dressed as any normal creeper would wear and at first glance you’d think he was going to rob her or even rape her, but I knew better. Underneath the creepy smile was a monster literally. He heard me behind him and he spun around revealing his weapons, his strength, speed, teeth, the whole nine yards. He snarled at me and dived for me. Too bad I was quicker and before he could sink his teeth into me, a knife was imbedded into his heart and he turned to stone, unmoving. I wasted no time turning that son of a bitch to ash. That’s my job y/n” he whispered the last part before turning to look at my face.
My eyes were wide and my mouth slightly parted with no sound escaping as I processed this information given to me. “Y/n those things aren’t just mythology they are real monsters that live among us.” He said grabbing my hand and haunting me.
“They are the reason I don’t ever and I mean ever want you or anybody else out at night. Those things are sick and if they get their teeth into you, you’ll be dead within a few minutes. Those things took my father away from me and I believe they’ve taken my brothers from me. Well that or they were threatened.”
I blinked. “Brothers?” I barely managed a whisper.
“Not really my brothers but they are…were Ike my brothers. Taehyung and Jimin remember them? The tall loud red-orange haired boy and the equally as obnoxious boy that was a bit shorter than Tae with midnight hair? That’s them. We used to be so close, people called us the three musketeers. We’d cause trouble wherever we went, wreak havoc. Until one day a Jimin just….disappeared. He’d stop hanging out with us and eventually he disappeared from the neighborhood all together. His cousin says he’s fine just a family emergency, but even he doesn’t know much. And now Taehyung has gone too. No warning, no goodbye just avoidance and disappearance like Jimin.”
I laid my hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry kookie. I never knew.” Jungkook sent me a weak smile in return.
“Don’t be. I’m sure they are fine.” We continued to walk in the slightly heavy silence before we arrived at my home. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jungkook said before hugging me. He went to pull away but I tightened my hold.
“Jungkook?” I whispered.
“Yes?” He responded allowing me to hug him a bit longer.
“Be safe okay? Promise me you’ll be here first thing tomorrow alright?” My voice quivered. Jungkook pulled back and held his pinky to me. I intertwined mine with his the second time tonight.
"I promise. Now get inside before I carry you in myself.” He grinned as I scurried to the door and pushed the heavy oak inside. I waved and he returned it before darting off into the night. I shut the door and leaned gave against it with a sigh. “Please please let him keep our promise.” I whispered before heading up for bed.
~~~~~
I had my dreamless sleep broken by a pounding at my bedroom door.
I groggily sat up rubbing my eyes to wake them up. I then proceeded to roll out of bed and swung the door open slowly with a yawn.
A chuckle met my ears. “Well good morning sleeping beauty. Why don’t you get yourself to a presentable state and join us at the table for breakfast?” My eyes snapped open and my body flung itself as Jungkook who chuckled again and caught me in an embrace. I nuzzled my nose into his chest. “You kept your promise.” I whispered smiling through a yawn.
He snickered. “Yes I did. When do I not? Now get ready before I do it myself and meet us downstairs.”
“Why do you always threaten me?” I muttered watching him saunter down the stairs with a shit eating grin before I thumped my way back into my room and quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face, and her dressed in record time.
I joined everyone downstairs and sat next to Jungkook who was holding two very elegant looking envelopes. I dug into my plate of pancakes humming at the sweet taste. “What’s that?” I questioned as I took another bite into the syrup covered goodness. Jungkook slid the envelope next to me and I caught sight of my name in elegant cursive on the front. I swallowed and picked it up carefully opening it up.
My eyes scammed the letter before I looked at Jungkook with a grin. “I’m invited to the royal ball?” I exclaimed borderline squeaking with excitement.
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “We’re invited to the ball. And it’s tonight.”
I gasped at the info before shoveling pancakes into my mouth and standing up to slip my shoes on. “Woah what’s the rush sweetheart?” My father questioned stopping me from barreling out the front door.
“Dad you heard him right? The ball is tonight I have to make a dress. That’s only a mere eight hours to sketch, design, sew, and decorate! I need to leave now so I can get it done!”
Without a word my father pointed to the boxes on the table hat I just now noticed. I silently walked back to my seat and my mother slid the box with my name in the same elegant cursive as the letter printed on it. I slowly untied the gold ribbon and gasped at the beautiful ball gown. It was a pastel purple with rose swirls decorating the bodice. The bottom was also embroidered with swirls of gold and black. “It’s beautiful.” I whispered staring at it in awe. “But I don’t have any shoes.”
"Yes you do. Remember madame Prescott gave you a mask and a pair if shoes. Both match the dress. Geez y/n you have a bad memory.” Jungkook grinned as I glared at him playfully.
“It’s perfect then. I hope you are ready for the ball my darling.” My mother clapped her hands.
“And you don’t actually have eight hours love. You only have six. You slept in past normal time.”
With this news I sped to the door and slipped my other shoe on.
"Where are you going now?” My mother yelled after me.
“I have to get to madame Pompfrey"s to get my hair done. Don’t worry I’ll be back soon and I’ll be ready Jungkook!” I shouted to m family and best friend over my shoulder before disappearing around the corner.
~~~~
The dress hugged my waist perfectly and the shoes were just as beautiful matching both my dress and my mask settled on my face. I smiled as my soft curls bounced as I twirled. I really felt like a princess. I took a deep breath before heading down stairs to meet with Jungkook.
Have fun you two! Be safe love you!” My parents shouted before we both got into the horse drawn carriage that Jungkook’s other friend Jin owned.
"Okay stick close to me alright? I’m nit sure who was all invited and I won’t take chances with you okay?” I nodded my affirmative as glanced out the window, seeing many other families head in the same direction as us. The sun began to set but I was surprisingly calm. After all I had my best friend beside me. Correction my slayer best friend.
The palace was enormous up close. A giant driveway in a circular shape, long smooth steps up to the entrance, a beautiful garden in the middle of the driveway, it was breathtaking. We both jumped out of the cart and together headed up the steps, showing our invitations before we were heading inside the palace.
Inside the ball was in full swing, couples dancing, people mingling, many many different dresses swaying to the music. I grinned as Jungkook and I descended the steps onward the people so we could mingle.
Somewhere along the way I lost my hold onto Jungkook’s d spun around to look for him. I felt my heart rate spike the longer I couldn’t see him. No I need to calm down. I inhaled and exhaled glancing the way we came and seeing no signs of him before spinning around and bumping into a ….muscular chest?
“Oh pardon me.” I shyly muttered to the stranger.
“I’ve never seen you here before love. Tell me what’s your name?” The strangers grasped my chin and tilted my head up and I gasped at the fiery red hair of the stranger. His sharp eyes greeted mine and a soft smirk rested upon his full lips.
"Um sorry I’m y/n.” I muttered softly still entranced by his eyes, even from under his mask.
“Well y/n would you care for a dance?” He questioned holding out his hand to me. I blinked at the turn if events before placing my palm in his and gasped as he pressed a kiss to the back. “Lovely. I’d be quite offended if you had said no. Oh where see my manners? I’m Jimin nice to meet you love. Now shall we?” I could only nod as Jimin led me to the middle of dancing couples. My hands was magically placed upon his shoulders and his on my hips guiding me into a slow waltz. We twirled around the room elegantly all the while not breaking eye contact. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but it was as if he was analyzing me…like I was prey and he was the hunter. I shook off the feeling fir a moment and continued to dance. Jimin twirled me our by one hand and twirled me back into his embrace. My eyes were once again captivated by his dark brown….that just flashed…red. Maybe my eyes were playing with me- nope definitely red. I gasped softly before clearing my throat and pulling away. “Thank you for the lovely dance Jimin but I must find my friend.” I curtsied before darting through the crowd as quickly as possible. And to my luck I ran into another body. What is wrong with me today? “Oh my are you alright?” A female asked and steadied me. I glanced up at her and gasped slightly. Next to her was a male with brown hair and a lovely smile that should make me reciprocate it. But it didn’t because his smile was accompanied by two sharp teeth. I glanced to the female and saw her concerned gaze. “Dear you look a little pale.” She whispered to me and she too had two sharp teeth that stuck over her lip as she bit it in worry. I’m sure if I saw myself I’d be pale as the clouds. I managed. Slight nod before pidgin goes past the couple and darting away to run into another body. It was not my day as I looked up and gasped seeing Jimin grin down at me. “There you are! Love are you alright? Maybe I should take you upstairs to rest.” It was an innocent question, but with the mischief in his gaze I wasn’t taking my chances. Especially after he grinned and flashed his own pair of sharp teeth at me.
My head was spinning as I darted away again and ran into a tall male who grinned, exposing a dimple on his cheek. He too had those sharp teeth exposed as he opened his mouth to apologize? I wasn’t taking that risk and once again took off, head darting left and right for any exit. My eyes zeroed in on the staircase and I had zero hesitation. My heels slammed against the ground as I gripped the bottom of my dress, adrenaline pushing me to keep going. Just as I was about to turn he corner I ran into another body and thus time I couldn’t stop myself.
I landed on the stranger with a thump. I quickly sat up apologizing, rocking myself back onto my heels. The stranger rubbed his head and he too sat up and locked eyes with me. Mocha irises met my y/e/c ones. It was like I was gazing into Jimin’s eyes again except I didn’t feel fear I felt warmth and comfort spread through my body. I snapped out of his hypnotizing gaze and basically checked him out. He wore a black suit, crisp and clean with a white button up and a head full if orange-reddish hair. My mouth ran faster than my mind and I mumbled out “Taehyung?” Just as his eyes darkened with love, possession, protective nature, and adoration and he growled out, “mine.”
I gasped scrambling away from him as he crouched in front of me, dark eyes trained on my form. He stood up and walked toward me and my adrenaline kicked it. In one swift motion I had my heels in my hand, the end of my dress in the other and I was sprinting toward the nearest exit…which happened to be downstairs. I took the steps two at a time before I halted abruptly seeing the couple who I ran into in my path. I glanced back up to see Taehyung’s dark eyes on my figure and he looked menacing. I gulped spinning back around before glancing over the rail uncertainty. A growl echoed from behind me and that made my hesitation go down the drain.
For a moment I felt weightless…and then gravity came back quickly as I ungracefully landed and tolled onto my back. I looked up to see the couple and Taehyung rushing down the stairs toward me. I quickly jumped up and took off toward the exit. I could almost taste my freedom before a blonde figure stepped out from the shadows and put his hand to my neck pressure point and it was lights out for me.
~Allie/A
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It had been a rough couple of days for both of them. Between being sent to both their homes in succession and celebrating at the mansion, it was not only three extended, intense parties they had had to attend, but also constant socialization and practically no time to themselves.
At least that was the part that had been harder for Marth - having to sneak subtle kisses and deliver impersonal wishes because there was always a pair of eyes or ears bound to witness their interactions. He wouldn’t have been surprised, however, if the omnipresence of liquors and games and food were what got the best of Ike in the end.
But here they were, finally crashing back in the room Marth mistakenly tended to consider home nowadays. Though he felt deeply deprived of affection and had spent the last days longing for the moment he could whisper true, heartfelt promises to his fiance, his energy levels dictated that a good night of sleep should be his only goal for now.
And it seemed Ike might agree; while Marth weakly dragged himself onto the mattress after changing into looser clothes, the mercenary was sitting on the opposite side, slouched in such a way that from Marth’s viewpoint he seemed to be downright sleeping in that position. 
There was more than exhaustion at work here - it only took him a few more seconds to realize. Some sort of sadness - not disappointment, or even nostalgia… maybe insecurity ?
It rendered Marth perplexed for barely a minute, and then his memory worked on fishing out some of the things he’d heard over the past days: comments, remarks, all seemingly more harmless than the last to someone who doesn’t pay attention - to someone who isn’t the one receiving them. But in times where everyone is wishing everyone the best and sharing how they plan to improve over the year to come, a few ‘harmless’ comments pointing out one’s flaws could be all it took to sap the spirit.
“Interesting, those New Year’s resolutions, don’t you think ?” Marth began, closing the distance between them. He knelt behind Ike, just so he could wrap his arms around his waist and rest his chin on his shoulder.
“I used to think a man should not wait for a whole year’s passing before trying to better himself,” the prince stated, punctuating his sentence with a humorless scoff. He briefly nuzzled the broad shoulder, and left it with a quick kiss to continue, “It sounded so vain, even as it remained only among my thoughts. Everyone seemed so happy and proud to be challenging themselves to improve in some way…”
He tightened his hold on Ike for a short moment, and then let go altogether, freeing his hands so he could place them against the other’s back and gently press his thumbs over the shoulder blades in a circular movement. “It makes you think, hm ? What goal would you set for yourself, if you had one thing to work on throughout an entire year…”
He pushed his hands higher, now massaging just below Ike’s neck. “I would bet a good fortune that you’ve given it some thoughts,” he affirmed with confidence, crooked smile taking over for a few breaths. He lifted his head off of Ike’s shoulder to kiss the back of his neck while his hands trailed down to ease tension out of the lower half of his back. 
“Spend more time with your sister. Train some more and make everyone proud. Maybe learn to read and even study to better help with the paperwork management of your company,” Marth guessed distractedly, more determined to get Ike to give in and relax under his ministrations than to have him admit what his potential resolution could be. “I dare even be so bold as to theorize some might have involved me, yes ?” he asked rhetorically, leaving no time for Ike to answer; “Get me to eat more, work less, something along the lines ?”
He let out a soft, quiet laugh - one so full of warmth and fondness, like he fell in love with Ike again just trying to guess his resolutions. “All very selfless intentions,” he commented lightly, smile audible in his voice. He wanted to see the other’s face, but his eyes were busy taking note of which spots made him go the limpest through his careful rubdown. “Since even in this situation, you won’t do anything for yourself, could you please do me a favor ?”
His nose partially disappeared into dark blue hair, as Marth pleaded by his ear, “This year, work on giving yourself more credit. Work on accepting that you fixed your world. Work on admitting that your deeds were astounding and unprecedented. Work on looking how far you’ve come. Work on remembering that it is your courage, your spirit, your values that got you through your challenges - not statesmanship or education. And if you truly refuse to look upon the heroic chapters of your story, the great tales of a young commander and fighter for justice - then at least accept the simple things you have achieved as a person. Everything that I am, or rather everything that I now allow myself to be- I owe it to you. You are entitled to my gratitude for making me as happy as I am. You have flaws, but you achieve perfection within their limits. That is more virtue than I have ever been blessed to witness. This year, please work on letting me show you how perfectly imperfect you are.”
It was the start of the new year, and as per the norm, the new year was ushered in by all manner of merriment. The competitors were allowed to go back to their respective worlds to celebrate – or not – in their own ways, with their own family and friends. They were then brought back to the Mansion, where another, last hurrah of a party was thrown. It was three different events for both Ike and Marth; they went to Archanea, to Tellius, and then back to the Mansion to celebrate. Three large, admittedly sometimes a little too wild parties crammed into a few days; the socializing and games, drinking and eating, and everything in between that happened was incredible, but nonetheless exhausting.
Especially considering that, with all the other people around, they never really got to have any time together. 
Finally back in their room, content to relax their social guards and just be together – as tired as they were – Ike had doggedly stripped down to just his underclothes, and then promptly slumped himself up against the headboard of the bed. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up around his person and fall asleep to some soft, dozy affections, but a few things kept bumping around in his head, making him restless despite how exhausted he was.
It was funny how people always had something to say, even about others’ potential thoughts for how to improve themselves in the future.
Ike didn’t mind telling his goals for the next year to others when asked, and he didn’t usually care if those people had an opinion on it. But, going through three separate events where these resolutions were the topic of the night – for those sober enough to discuss them seriously, that is – it got just a tad bit demoralizing hearing certain thoughts repeated in different ways by different people.
He just didn’t think so many people would have something to say about his life and where it might possibly go…
The mercenary was pulled from his thoughts when he felt the mattress shift behind him from Marth’s light weight, lithe arms coming to rest about his waist and a chin pressing comfortably against his shoulder.
A soft, “Mmn,” was all the sound that Ike made to Marth’s statement, taking a deep but slow breath when the Altean nuzzled his shoulder.
Leave it to Marth to be able to read him so easily.
“I...yeah, I’ve thought about it some,” Ike replied in a muted voice, almost catching Marth’s arms before he could pull away, relaxing a bit more when he felt fingers rubbing into the sore muscles in his shoulders. “Hard not to after a few dozen people ask...” 
Not that he hadn’t been thinking about what he wanted to do with his life now -- now that he had so much to look forward to, now that he knew what direction he was supposed to go.
He sighed contently at the kiss to his neck, arching his back tiredly when Marth’s hands moved their blessed attentions to his lower back. Even with the time off, not training or fighting, Ike still managed to knot up muscles in his back pretty darn well. Marth was quite adept at getting them to relax once more.
Ike lapsed into silence as Marth guessed what his resolutions could be -- a small smile edging onto his face when each one was practically guessed to perfection. Either he really was plain old easy to read, or Marth truly did know him well. “Of course there are quite a few that involve you...I want to be my best for you, and I want to look after you and support you as you deserve, Marth...You, uh, pretty much got ‘em all right there, you know. You’re too smart sometimes, but all it does is amaze me further,” he added, once he got a chance to put something in edgewise.
Head lolling, a slight moan of contentment building up in his throat at the massage he was being treated to, Ike hummed, “...You know I could...never say no to doing something for you to the best of my ability...”
He straightened up just a smidge when Marth spoke into his ear, face heating up as he fought to keep his emotions in check as his person voiced his favor. “I -- Hn, Marth...Barely even into the new year, and you’re already gettin’ me soft. I...It’s not going to be easy, I’m gonna need your help, but...I’ll do my best. This’ll be one of my...priority goals, I promise. Just...be patient with me sometimes; not always easy to see the things that you see in me, love.”
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I’ll Be There  (Seth Rollins x Reader)
Ik, not a Dean fanfic. But after watching Raw and seeing how everyone was about all this, I figured I’d show up late to the party and try to make anybody feeling bad feel better about all of this. Notable for being A.) My first Seth fanfic and B.) My first real attempt at somewhat angsty hurt and comfort. I have another Seth story incoming from a prompt, but I got the idea for this and had to throw it out there. So yeah, hope you enjoy.
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The replay made it all the worse and harder to watch. It had been hard enough to watch the first time around, but you weren’t able to look away. It was like an awful train wreck. The second thing to run through your mind-after “Oh shit”-was She’s knee. He had favored it to some extant since the injury from the first time around, but it otherwise was alright. If it was a re-injury…
“Seth?” You hurried as fast as possible to the trainer’s room, bumping into some other staff a little less than gently. You only offered half apologies on your route, breaking to a halt outside of the room. Seth was sitting with his knees off the exam table, surrounded by the medical team, but spotted you instantly. The pain that was already in his eyes added what seemed a small glimmer of shame, and it made your heart stutter and stop. You braved it through and stepped in the room slowly. His look made you hesitant slightly. “Hey, Seth. How’re you feeling?”
“Can you wait outside?” One of the doctors turned quickly to you and tried to be kind, but you could hear the dismissal in his voice.
“She can come in.” He tried an authoritative voice, like he used to use to get what he wanted. He would’ve snapped if it had been a normal thing, but now his voice matched his eyes, and mellowed out.
The doctor relented and you went to stand next to Seth, taking his hand quickly for a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” He muttered in return.
“I still feel awful. You’ve been doing so good…I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You couldn’t have stopped it.”
You both stayed in silence after that for a few minutes, your hands dropping from his slowly. There was a conversation to be had in private, and you willed the med team to go. Maybe there was a higher power actually listening, because the men and women left quickly, some going to look at scans and others going to get any medical equipment he would need. Soon it was just the two of you. As soon as it was you pulled up a chair next to Seth. He ran a hand through his hair and looked ahead, still holding a plethora of emotions in his face.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” You tried to initiate conversation again.
He didn’t respond for a while. “I’m going to get them. I’ll kill them if this is serious; Joe and Triple H.” As serious as his words sounded, there was almost no heat in his voice; he just sounded tired.
“Please, Seth, no reason to talk like that. This isn’t a forever thing. You’ll be back on the roster before you know it.” You reached for his hand again and he only fought a bit before giving in, intertwining your fingers. While he was usually the hard badass with an ego larger than Big Cass on the exterior most of the time, including now, inside you knew he was hurting really bad and needed comfort.
“Last time I got injured, it took me out of Wrestlemania. I’m going to miss another one, they’ll give my spot away…” His free hand clenched an unclenched at the memories of before, the pain and the feeling of overall helplessness that he had dealt with for months. “Don’t pity me. Don’t try to act like it’s gonna be alright.”
“You think this is about pity?” You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it isn’t, you dick, It’s because I love you that I’m in this room right now.” He hid the light flinch at your words and while you felt ad, you also knew it had to be said. “I stayed with you through the last injury and I’ve always stayed with you. What make you think it’ll be different this time?” You softened and leaned up to give him an earnest kiss. He responded equally sweetly, his hand gripping yours tightly while his free hand cupped your cheek and stroked your hair lightly. You squeezed his hand reassuringly as you both broke apart, inches from one another.
“I love you too, Y/N. I’m sorry.” His beautifully expressive eyes still held pain and grief, but you could see in them little springs of hope and love, even if barely there.
“Don’t be. Just don’t doubt me again, you hear?” You softly smiled and he returned it as the team came back into the room, breaking you up with crutches for Seth. Even though they did, you stood by him through the fitting, the cast, the car, and the road to recovery. He was tough and would survive on his own, but having you there made it a bit better.
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Disclaimer: I know nothing about medical procedures in the WWE. I probably got like 50 regulations wrong. But I hope you enjoyed nonetheless. Here’s to Seth’s speedy recovery!
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goldeagleprice · 5 years
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Letters to the Editor (October 30, 2018)
(Image courtesy usmint.gov)
Who decides how rare a new coin issue should be?
The brilliant marketing bureaucrats at the U.S. Mint have now created their second rare palladium Eagle in 2018 with a 15,000 mintage limit, presumably as an early Christmas gift to coin dealers and wholesalers.
I went online at 12 p.m. and attempted to buy the coin. I thought I had successfully purchased the coin, but at 12:06 I received a message that the coin was no longer available. This has happened all too often in the last few years and must end.
It is unethical for the Mint, a U.S. government agency, to create “rarities” with unrealistic mintage limits as obvious gifts for dealers and wholesalers who line up their families and friends to grab the entire production in a few minutes and then sell them to collectors for a large profit. If there are to be profits, they must inure to the benefit of the federal government. The Inspector General of the Treasury should investigate the individuals who made the scarcity decisions for the palladium coin, the gold dime, and several other recent issues. They are either facilitating impermissible favors for their dealer friends or they are simply stupid. Either way, something must be done about this because it happens once or twice a year.
A rational Mint policy would provide a 30- to 60-day pre-order period for all potentially rare issues, with subsequent production only to fill those orders. Under that policy, there would be no waste for the Mint, no unsatisfied customers, and no unethical gifts to coin dealers and wholesalers.
Don W. Crockett Washington, D.C.
  Cashless future will arrive sooner than many think
I just read a review on CNN.com of a new Amazon Go store, the future of retail. Here are some pertinent excerpts:
“You won’t see a single cashier, cash register, or self-service checkout stand. Such things have no place in the future. You simply walk in, grab what you need, and go. Amazon bills your credit card as you pass through the turnstile on your way out. Moments later, an app in your phone provides a receipt detailing what you’ve bought, what you paid, and even how long you spent inside.
“Imagine a world where you never wait in line, or even open your wallet. A world where stores know so much about you that they recommend products and lead you right to them. A world where shoplifting, which according to the National Retail Federation drains some $47 billion from retailers nationwide each year, is all but impossible.”
I can’t help thinking about all of the readers of Numismatic News who think they can’t live without the billions of cents that are minted every year. People, like it or not, your way of life is changing. Welcome to the future, and the future is here.
Peter Glassman Schaumburg, Ill.
  Restaurant finds begin with Wheat cent in a tip cup
My wife and I ate at a restaurant in Eden, N.C. I went to pay at the register when I saw a wheat cent in the tip cup. I pulled it out and noticed the other coin in the tip cup was also a wheat cent. I asked the cashier if I could exchange them, and she said she had more in the register. She then proceeded to pull out many more wheat cents for me. I asked where she got them, and she said the bank down the road. At the bank, they were kind enough to give 10 rolls for $5, which produced only normal finds. But the ones I got at the restaurant were G-VG: 1912-D, 1921-S, 1929-D, 1939-S; VF or better: 1942-D, 1947-S, 1951-S, 1954-S, plus many common ones starting in the teens, which I did not put into 2x2s. Keep searching, they’re still out there!
Denny Dean Reidsville, N.C.
  More readers should try collecting lowball coins
I was really tickled to read Mike Walker’s Viewpoint in the current (Oct. 2, 2018) issue on looking for “Lowball” coins.
I have been chasing these “less than perfect” critters for over 15 years and have had an absolute ball doing so. It really charges my batteries when I see the look on a dealer’s face when I go into his shop and ask to see his junk box because “I have a Type Set I want to downgrade.”
I explain that I’m assembling “The World’s Worst Type Set” and could probably use some of the doggies he has in the box way in the back of his safe.
My M.O. is that I only want coins that will grade (by PCGS) in FR-02 or PO-01. This sounds easy, but in order to qualify for a PCGS holder, the coin must have only good, honest wear, with no damage. Also, the date must be identifiable, as well as the mintmark, if it has one. This eliminates about 95 percent of the low-grade coins for consideration, with the remaining 5 percent probably falling under the pocket piece category.
If one takes up the challenge, one will soon find that this is true collecting at its finest. You must be just as critical of the prospective purchase as you would for a Mint State coin, but only after a very severe mindset readjustment. An AG-03 or better coin is “too good,” and one with the appropriate wear but with scratches, a ding, or corrosion, is unacceptable. Later-date coins are especially difficult to locate for obvious reasons, so if you uncover a qualifying FR-02 or PO-01 Ike or SBA, you’ve hit the jackpot!
As did Mike, I encourage collectors to take up the gauntlet on this and search out those “beautiful” lowball coins – I guarantee that it will be every bit as challenging as finding “normal” coins for your collection, and you’ll have as much or more fun in the search!
Bill Fivaz Dunwoody, Ga.
  Check geography of famous Americans for coins
How does numismatic activity create unity in our clubs?
As the contact person to the American Numismatic Association for The South Brevard Coin Club, the ANA sent me the questions for the 2017 Trivia Quiz just two days before our June meeting.
Remembering the year prior and how one of our members wound up answering almost all of the questions himself, I admit my very first reaction was to ignore the quiz. Those questions are difficult. But better thinking came to mind and, at the club meeting that Wednesday, I presented copies of the questions to the members.
I further went on to say that if we want to take the challenge, the best way might be for each of us to take a question and then commit to completing the answer in the next few days. We agreed to go with that plan.
Reading each question out loud, one of the members volunteered to take that question and answer it by Saturday, just three days away. On Thursday, I had received six answers by late that afternoon. I asked Jack, our secretary, to put out a notice of where we were and to keep going. We sent another update Friday afternoon. By Saturday night, we had our answers ready to be sent to the ANA.
This process added some excitement to our club’s members. Oftentimes we had been a bit lackadaisical in our efforts, failing to get much volunteer activity or enthusiasm on ideas calling for action. But now we had something with which to feel pride and satisfaction. Those feelings helped us this year as we made an exhibit for the January Florida United Numismatists Show.
We had never made an exhibit in the past, but several members volunteered to contribute to this effort on how living near Cape Canaveral has influenced us in our collecting hobby. We won first place in the Coin Club group.
We have a new spirit of cooperation among our members now as we enjoy our hobby, improve our meetings, and gain new members every month. It all goes back to working together for the unity of the club.
Tim Janecke South Brevard Coin Club Satellite Beach, Fla.
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johnwaterstrike · 7 years
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(ooc: The log for the investigation that John and Ryn did, along with Kaito and Aghurlal.  Please enjoy.) Prologue- The Mission [1]<Kaito Nagano> Faint, faint tapping can be heard. There is no measure or cadence to the sound. The intended recipient should be savvy to the noise and what it actually conveyed. [Fury.] [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> ...ye? [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Te fuck's tha' noise?" [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> 'S someone tryin' to talk. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Lemme listen. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "...so much fer speakin' freely on this thin'," he mutters.  A thump is heard, followed by a whimper. "Quit yer winnin', shoul've though' ta na' steal all te pretty shinies.  Freakin' rook." [1]<Kaito Nagano> A soft scoff. More tapping. [In a meeting right now. Cannot relay normally. Maelstrom Corporal Seiji Kanada. I need a nob on him. Any whid about his movements within the city-state and Swiftperch within the last fortnight.] A pause. [This one is urgent. Need answers before the morrow. I'll repay the favor.] [1]<Jordan Kennedy> *a similar hushed tone* "If'n ye can't get Piggy, Tell yer Auntie" [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Piggy and Auntie. Right. For them what missed it, need whids on Maelstrom Corporal Seiji Kanada's movements twixt LImsa an' Swiftperch within the last fortnight. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Any takers? I'll prolly jump on it right soon. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "...oooh.  Can't speak.  Sorry...tappin' person.  Ye need o' hand, ye'll 'ave it." [1]<Brice Fiske> "would love to help but, got my hands full* Sound of magic being thrown around in his background. "Be safe out there." [1]<John Waterstrike> "If you need help, Fury, I'm up for it..." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "I'll be ta Limsa in o' flash.  Tell me where ta meet ye."
[1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Could maybe use a hand, aye, or a better cover. Me face ain't that o' a stranger over that ways, seein' as I were tryin' to get a grip on Warfury not less than a week ago. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Only so many times you can ask after a 'friend' 'til folks start askin' why you's askin', aye? [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> ((got an unspoiled node in 10 minutes and then i'll be free)) [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Hmm...well, I can go a askin'.  Haven' played any o' te players on te board, so ta speak." [1]<John Waterstrike> "Where do you want to meet?" [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Ferry docks in Limsa, or Aleport, whichever you's closest to now. We'll all group up proper in Aleport an' head east. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> A' an aetheryte now.  See ye a' Aleport." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Piggy, these movements official-like, or off the books? Don't want to go pokin' 'round no Yellowjacket records iffin we don't have to. [1]<John Waterstrike> "Meet you at Aleport." [1]<Kaito Nagano> Tapping. [Fury, play it clean. Rest of you, heads down. Reds and Yellows know your face. I don't want them to know theirs.] [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Aye aye. Slight change o' plans - you lot meet in Aleport, an' I'll start at ferrydocks. Pretend ye don't know me iffin' ye see me. John Waterstrike comes up from the docks, hat pull low over his eyes.  He reach out placing his hand to make like he was calming the bird as his eyes glance over  the people here. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "...alright, look inconspicuous 'nogh'.  A' te Aetheryte na'." Act I- To Swiftperch John Waterstrike eyes flicker over catching Rynathan over to the side.  He lifted his hat a little, to make better eye contact. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Keep me an' our red-coated friends up to date on developments. [1]<John Waterstrike> "Alright, Fury." Rynathan Elurhandir whistles inconspicuously as he runs a finger over the edge of his bastard sword.  He turns his eye toward the man on the chocobo, shrugs, then turns back to his sword.  However, his ear wiggles a little, as if in greeting. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Lead te way, lad.  Coul' act like were leve-runnin', if ye's like" [1]<John Waterstrike> "Alright." John Waterstrike stops for a moment, looking over what look to be leves plates, murmuring a bit before heading to Swiftperch. Rynathan Elurhandir scowls a little as he looks up at the lad on the high chocobo.  "Any idea what we're supposed to be cuttin', lad?  Rather have my ale gil sooner than later," he asks, his tone harsh and almost Ul'dahn in accent. Rynathan Elurhandir whistles loudly for his chocobo, which arrives rather suddenly.  It's a big thing, and it makes him look minisule as he jumps into the saddle. ((after they move away frome Aleport)) John Waterstrike stops for a moment, making sure the road is clear.  "Not a bad accent," he murmurred.  "Any idea who we look to about what we have to do?" Rynathan Elurhandir: "Nah o' fuckin' clue, lad.  Le's make our way over, an' fin' out who ta question over te pearl." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir>  "Hey, Agh. Shoul' we follow yer lead on who ta question?" Rynathan Elurhandir: "Yah, chobobo!" [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Hells, I reckon you know as well as me. I got sod-all last week an' only found our mort after she were dead, so maybe yous'll have more luck than I. John Waterstrike after noding, he gives one pat and the bird takes off, following and passing after [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Lovely...a' Swiftperch now." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Give you a tip, though. Don't bother talkin' to [hyuran-sounding name], 'e's a drunkard what likes makin' up stories. [1]<John Waterstrike> "Will do, Fury." John Waterstrike gives one more pat, the slips off.  "Find some greens, Safire." letting the bird head off. John Waterstrike frowns a little before putting the plates away.  He would speak with the Lalafell first. Rynathan Elurhandir turns the large bird about, and hops off.  "Alright, ya beast, get and go fill that stomach!" he mutters, patting it on the hip as it runs off toward the range. Rynathan Elurhandir: "Oi, blueberry!  I said we were here for leves, did I not?  You trying ta cut corners on my ale gil!?" John Waterstrike: "Ah, shut ye trap.  Making nice with locals helps with ye mining." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Boy, does it look like this sword was made for /mining?/" he grunts, a mischevious glint in his eye as he gives the lad a sour look. John Waterstrike trying not to cring at the way he spoke to Ryn...but knowing it was part of the act.  "Thought ya was going to poke some of the bushes or a over size tooth pick."  He glance away.  "Ifna ya want extra gil, ya should have pick up a battle leve." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Well that's what /that/ big bastard's for, aye?" he sulks, pointing at Swygskyf. John Waterstrike: "Well, Ya go talk to him.  Ah make nice with the locals so I know the best are ta do some mining." Rynathan Elurhandir mutters something about being Thal's balls deep in some chocoshite as he stomps over to the levemate. John Waterstrike stops over by Fewon.  "Hey, know of any better mining then what on these."  Fewon look up at him, "They be mark...then do them." John rolls his eyes.  "A friend said ya would know the best place to mine." Rynathan Elurhandir: "This is all ye can offer?  Thal's balls, man, that hardly covers my board, let alone my broad.  Whatever, it'll be done in a flash," he scowls, though he exchanges a fist bump with the man and pads away with a smirk on his face.  "Oi blueberry!  Time to earn your gil!" John Waterstrike ||Fewon look at him, seeming to peek up at the praise. "Ah, who be your friend?"  John grin, "Name Seiji Kanada...haven't seen the loute in a while and he told me to  see..." and tries not to blink as he gets a glaring eye roll.  "That lout sleeps more thena he should. Cannot believe he's be an officer." John Waterstrike pinch the bridge of his nose.  "Ah...that sound likea him...Ah'll going have a few words...mostly with me pick." and stomps over to Ryn. John Waterstrike stops by him.  "Ifna ya ready, lets head on out." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Let's go blueberry.  There're dodo's to cut, an' wolves to lay down." ((After they move away from Swiftperch)) Rynathan Elurhandir takes a deep breath and sighs when they're out of earshot.  "Sorry fer te act, mate." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Figure we run some leves so we've o' solid cover, an' question tha' Yellowjacket bou' this Seiji character.  If i's in line with wha' ye've uncovered, we shoul' be green." John Waterstrike sighs, "Sorry for the words Sir." he said.  He was really missing his fairy persent but well he had plenty of apples for her at home.  "Looks like Seiji was sleeping more then guarding, at least from what I gather." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Anyone 'ave eyes on 'im sleepin'...or who 'e was sleepin with?" John Waterstrike: "It might be different with the other Jackets though."  He shakes his head.  "The lalafell didn't mention anyone else with him. Might get more from the others though." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Aye...an' nothin' ta apoligize fer, mate.  I's o tight scheule, an' we've ta make due 'bout what we're runnin'." ((four leves in five minutes later)) Rynathan Elurhandir: "An' tha's tha'...yer pretty dimber fer a stabber, eh?" John Waterstrike: "Thank you, Sir though Pic...my friend was far better at them." Rynathan Elurhandir: "I's jus' o' matter o' time an' patence, lad.  Ye don' ge' good in o' day...usually," he replies as he holds out the bastard sword, looking at it curiously before sheathing it. Rynathan Elurhandir: "An' Ryn'll do, lad.  Ain' no ser," he adds with a jesting smirk. John Waterstrike rub the back of his neck.  "My teacher says the same but well..." he shurg his shoulder.  "Um, ok Si...I mean Ryn.  Think we better head back and see what the Jackets know?" Rynathan Elurhandir: "Bes' ta wait fer o' bit, I thin'...don' wan' ta make i' look ;ike tha' was too easy, les' te Jacket ge' wary..." John Waterstrike nods even as he tugs a bit at his gloves.  He closed his eyes for a moment, getting a scent of sea air.  "Been a while since I been out here." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Aye...been awhile since I've foun' m'self ou' an about La Noscea.  Me mate'o'mine have a room in Thanalan, o' all te places...so, well, I've been more far afield than usual." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Certainly o' nicer breeze ta smell.  Salt beats dus' any day." John Waterstrike blinks.  "Thanalan is home but..." he trail off, feeling the edge of some of Pick's memories brushing against his own.  "Sea dye pink...makes like a blush of a young lady as Sun meets water."  He blush a little.  "Friend use to tell me that." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> How are you doing? Rynathan Elurhandir chuckles.  "Soun's like his head is in te gutter some, iff'n ye ge me meanin'...anyway, tha' soul' be long enough.  Le's go poke a Jacket." John Waterstrike nods blushing even more since he knew who the young lady was he talking about.  Coughs a little in his hand.  "Yeah, we better head back."  His ear wiggle at the voice over the pearl. [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Inital review show's 'e's a slacker...but clean otherwise.  Pokin' o' Jacket now." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> What sort o' slacker? [1]<John Waterstrike> "A bit of sleeping instead of guarding from what the local say." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Right-o. Act III- the Interview ((upon returning to Swiftperch)) Rynathan Elurhandir: "Alright, you bird, go wait outside while I get my gil," he mutters, jumping off as the bird flees for the plains. John Waterstrike gives a long suffering sigh.  "So ya got ya gil.  Happy now?" Rynathan Elurhandir exchanges hands with the levemate, a note sticking out from the bag of gil he was handed.  "Aye, that'll get my junk touched at least.  He won't tell me a thing about mining, though, so take that up with him," he mutters, handing John a share of the gil...as well as the note. John Waterstrike takes the gil.  "Well, it'll get me some food in me stomach. "  Pocket the gil but not before glancing at the note. "Alright, Ah'll see about the mining, ya go and do something..." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Anyway...need to guestion that bloke in yellow about a debt owed.  So /excuse/ me." John Waterstrike busy looking over the mining plates on the leves, making a face at them. Rynathan Elurhandir: "Oi, roe-tits!  Where's yer friend Seiji!  Corporal Seiji?" ||Fraeloef glares down at the miqo'te.  "Oi, watch ye trap." he said.  "Seiji...Ah ya mean the slacker Corporal?" Rynathan Elurhandir: "Aye, that chocoshite owes me gil.  Said his word was good after I won more than he had at a Triad bet...and it's been nearly seven suns!  I'm here to collect!" ||Fraeloef looks down in disbelief at Ryn.  "Ha, ya musta got him roaring drunk to get guy to gamble." ||Fraeloef gave a laugh.  "Probably be why he owe ya." Rynathan Elurhandir blinks in suprise but presses forward.  "You're certain? Isn't he that wide-eyed lalafelan bastart that likes to boast about the girth of his junk?" ||Fraeloef throws his head back with a laugh.  "Ya been taken it seems." he said. "Coporal Seiji is a dark skin Hyur... midlander me think, not that ya can tell the difference between them highlander and midlanders." Rynathan Elurhandir: "That.../that/..." Rynathan Elurhandir: (yells) "That two faced midgit /shite fucker/!" Rynathan Elurhandir fumes, breathing deeply as he look about enraged.  "And this Seiji man, he ain't the type to send folk to do his bidding?" ||Fraeloef threw his head back laughing even louder.  "Ya just going have ta look for the midgit else were.  Lot that you'll probably have any luck finding him."  He calm down a little.  "Probably hop the first boat once he was sure ya was on a Wild Dodo chase."  Looks thoughtful for a moment. ||Fraeloef snorts after a moment.  "Ifna it can get him outa guard duty then yeah, hena probably would." ||Fraeloef shakes his head.  "Will admit that Ah never seen him send anyone else and he is ona Guard duty on time....even if he falls asleep at his post." Rynathan Elurhandir sulks in his spot, rubbing a fist into his palm. "Well...guess I best go find a trail on this wee bastard.  When we meet in Thal's realm, first round's on me," he mutters sullenly, stomping off as he barks at John.  "Oi, blueberry!  We've a con to go gut!" John Waterstrike hands over the leve plates.  "Better keep him from ending up in the ceil.  Ah use the leves fro 'Port." ((After they pad away from Swiftperch)) John Waterstrike sighs.  "Well, not sure if that help us or not, Ryn." Rynathan Elurhandir takes a deep breath, and sighs in relief, shooting the lad a savy grin.  "An tha', as they say,  is tha...te Levemete feed us anythin' useful?" John Waterstrike shakes his head.  "Only what was on the note.  So we should probably keep an eye on this Seiji...even if it just seems that he rather sleep then guard." John Waterstrike: "Or maybe the route he uses, in case he's meeting someone between the walk from Aleport and here." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Eh, from wha' I coul' tell?  Seems this Seiji's pretty clean cut.  If he only gambles when drunk off his arse, he shouldn' be te conivin' type sober. Rynathan Elurhandir: "An' if all he's doin' is slackin', I don' think he's te type ta plot agains' Limsa.  He's gettin' his gil te easy way, an' i' seems likely he ain' te sor' o' rook ta risk his neck plant'n bombs round te city in his off time." John Waterstrike thinks for a moment.  "So..." he sigh, "We're still back to square one on who and why they wanted to bomb near the guild during a fighting tournament." Rynathan Elurhandir: "A' te very leas', we've confirmed tha' this Seiji ain' worth te time we can't afford ta waste.  If anythin', i' migh' make him o' resource.  Either way, le's report ta Aghu, an' scamper off before we ge' made." Epilogue- the Report ((As they walk back to Aleport)) [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Oi Aghu?  Ye 'roun'?" [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Yeah. S'up? [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "This Seiji bloke seems clean cut.  A slacker tha' sleeps on te job, bu' tha's jus' 'im makin' easy gil.  Don' gamble sober, don' use folk ta do 'is work, so far as we coul' tell." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Aight. Lines up wit' what I got. Chatted to Maelstrom's public-facin' lot an' they said 'e was in timely-like at 7 bells past noon, every night, no funny business. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Piggy? Auntie? [1]<Kaito Nagano> "Aye, oink." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Got that? [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Normally I'd be suggestin' you get someone to check over lad's paperwork for tamperin', but coupled wit' what Ryn's got an' I dunno if it's worth it. [1]<Kaito Nagano> "Clearer than a bell. And on your end, Fury?" ((They return to the Aetheryte in Aelport)) Rynathan Elurhandir leans against the wall, looking up at the aetheryte with a small grin. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Naught of interest around town, an' his command say he's clean. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Whatcha want 'im for, anyroad? [1]<Kaito Nagano> "He's a suspect in the investigation. Apparently the uniform the Jacket was wearing had been rented out in his name before the bombing. From the sounds of your investigation, he's been set up." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Aye-aye. [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Could've picked a darker cull to pin... [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Well tha's convenien'...led te Jacket I poked te believe some lalafel stole his name ta make o' bet." [1]<Kaito Nagano> "Never know, Fury. Respectable gentlemen like us don't look half bad in the lightmans." John Waterstrike sighs, placing his hand on his pack, feeling Kit's book was still safe there.  Trying not to grimce at what was going on over the pearl. [1]<Kaito Nagano> "..." Snickering. "Nice." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Tha' migh' get te proper athorities lookin' in te right direction fer a change." *snickers in kind* [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Need anythin' else before we pad off here?" [1]<John Waterstrike> "Think the Jacket will say anything to Seiji about a miqo'te looking for him?" [1]<Kaito Nagano> "Doubt it. I'll keep the Yellows hushed. They're more than happy to keep their gobs shut around us reds regardless." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Nah, I've o' pretty convincin' Ul'dahn accen', an' I made it pretty clear I was huntin' wee men this nigh'." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Anyway, if tha's all, I'm gonna pad off.  Pleasure ta' help ye dimber dabbers ou'." [1]<John Waterstrike> "I should head home soon as well.  If you need anything else, Fury...Piggy, I'll have the pearl open." [1]<♣Aghurlal Qar'akimusun> Thankin' ye both very much. [1]<John Waterstrike> "Glad I could help." [1]<Rynathan Elurhandir> "Always o pleasure ta dance tha' tune...till next time then." John Waterstrike glance over, even as he gathers aether around him.  "Be careful heading home yourself, Ryn." Rynathan Elurhandir sighs contently.  "Well, pleasure workin' with ye, lad.  DIdn' catch yer name though." [1]<Kaito Nagano> "Much obliged, gentlemen." Click! John Waterstrike thinks for a moment before removing his hat and freeing up his ears.  "John, Sir." he said, bowing. "But Fury seem to starting calling me Scribbles."  He gave a small smile.  "Maybe I'll see you at the Grindstone one night." John Waterstrike: "But if ya wish, I'll also go by my um, friend's old Rogue name...'Pitch'." Rynathan Elurhandir: "Made i' ta te semifinals las' night...who knows?  Maybe we'll ge' ta square off next time, Scribbles," he replies with a grin, pushing off the wall and slapping him on the back with a hearty chuckle. John Waterstrike gives another small smile.  "Thought I recongize you but well, were was a lot of fighters to heal last night." Rynathan Elurhandir chuckles.  "Pretty sure I caugh' yer scen' when someone wen' about offerin' healin," he chuckles pulls aether in around him, invisioning home in his mind. "Oschon send ye down clever paths lad." ((Ryn Teleports away))
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goldeagleprice · 5 years
Text
Letters to the Editor (October 30, 2018)
(Image courtesy usmint.gov)
Who decides how rare a new coin issue should be?
The brilliant marketing bureaucrats at the U.S. Mint have now created their second rare palladium Eagle in 2018 with a 15,000 mintage limit, presumably as an early Christmas gift to coin dealers and wholesalers.
I went online at 12 p.m. and attempted to buy the coin. I thought I had successfully purchased the coin, but at 12:06 I received a message that the coin was no longer available. This has happened all too often in the last few years and must end.
It is unethical for the Mint, a U.S. government agency, to create “rarities” with unrealistic mintage limits as obvious gifts for dealers and wholesalers who line up their families and friends to grab the entire production in a few minutes and then sell them to collectors for a large profit. If there are to be profits, they must inure to the benefit of the federal government. The Inspector General of the Treasury should investigate the individuals who made the scarcity decisions for the palladium coin, the gold dime, and several other recent issues. They are either facilitating impermissible favors for their dealer friends or they are simply stupid. Either way, something must be done about this because it happens once or twice a year.
A rational Mint policy would provide a 30- to 60-day pre-order period for all potentially rare issues, with subsequent production only to fill those orders. Under that policy, there would be no waste for the Mint, no unsatisfied customers, and no unethical gifts to coin dealers and wholesalers.
Don W. Crockett Washington, D.C.
  Cashless future will arrive sooner than many think
I just read a review on CNN.com of a new Amazon Go store, the future of retail. Here are some pertinent excerpts:
“You won’t see a single cashier, cash register, or self-service checkout stand. Such things have no place in the future. You simply walk in, grab what you need, and go. Amazon bills your credit card as you pass through the turnstile on your way out. Moments later, an app in your phone provides a receipt detailing what you’ve bought, what you paid, and even how long you spent inside.
“Imagine a world where you never wait in line, or even open your wallet. A world where stores know so much about you that they recommend products and lead you right to them. A world where shoplifting, which according to the National Retail Federation drains some $47 billion from retailers nationwide each year, is all but impossible.”
I can’t help thinking about all of the readers of Numismatic News who think they can’t live without the billions of cents that are minted every year. People, like it or not, your way of life is changing. Welcome to the future, and the future is here.
Peter Glassman Schaumburg, Ill.
  Restaurant finds begin with Wheat cent in a tip cup
My wife and I ate at a restaurant in Eden, N.C. I went to pay at the register when I saw a wheat cent in the tip cup. I pulled it out and noticed the other coin in the tip cup was also a wheat cent. I asked the cashier if I could exchange them, and she said she had more in the register. She then proceeded to pull out many more wheat cents for me. I asked where she got them, and she said the bank down the road. At the bank, they were kind enough to give 10 rolls for $5, which produced only normal finds. But the ones I got at the restaurant were G-VG: 1912-D, 1921-S, 1929-D, 1939-S; VF or better: 1942-D, 1947-S, 1951-S, 1954-S, plus many common ones starting in the teens, which I did not put into 2x2s. Keep searching, they’re still out there!
Denny Dean Reidsville, N.C.
  More readers should try collecting lowball coins
I was really tickled to read Mike Walker’s Viewpoint in the current (Oct. 2, 2018) issue on looking for “Lowball” coins.
I have been chasing these “less than perfect” critters for over 15 years and have had an absolute ball doing so. It really charges my batteries when I see the look on a dealer’s face when I go into his shop and ask to see his junk box because “I have a Type Set I want to downgrade.”
I explain that I’m assembling “The World’s Worst Type Set” and could probably use some of the doggies he has in the box way in the back of his safe.
My M.O. is that I only want coins that will grade (by PCGS) in FR-02 or PO-01. This sounds easy, but in order to qualify for a PCGS holder, the coin must have only good, honest wear, with no damage. Also, the date must be identifiable, as well as the mintmark, if it has one. This eliminates about 95 percent of the low-grade coins for consideration, with the remaining 5 percent probably falling under the pocket piece category.
If one takes up the challenge, one will soon find that this is true collecting at its finest. You must be just as critical of the prospective purchase as you would for a Mint State coin, but only after a very severe mindset readjustment. An AG-03 or better coin is “too good,” and one with the appropriate wear but with scratches, a ding, or corrosion, is unacceptable. Later-date coins are especially difficult to locate for obvious reasons, so if you uncover a qualifying FR-02 or PO-01 Ike or SBA, you’ve hit the jackpot!
As did Mike, I encourage collectors to take up the gauntlet on this and search out those “beautiful” lowball coins – I guarantee that it will be every bit as challenging as finding “normal” coins for your collection, and you’ll have as much or more fun in the search!
Bill Fivaz Dunwoody, Ga.
  Check geography of famous Americans for coins
How does numismatic activity create unity in our clubs?
As the contact person to the American Numismatic Association for The South Brevard Coin Club, the ANA sent me the questions for the 2017 Trivia Quiz just two days before our June meeting.
Remembering the year prior and how one of our members wound up answering almost all of the questions himself, I admit my very first reaction was to ignore the quiz. Those questions are difficult. But better thinking came to mind and, at the club meeting that Wednesday, I presented copies of the questions to the members.
I further went on to say that if we want to take the challenge, the best way might be for each of us to take a question and then commit to completing the answer in the next few days. We agreed to go with that plan.
Reading each question out loud, one of the members volunteered to take that question and answer it by Saturday, just three days away. On Thursday, I had received six answers by late that afternoon. I asked Jack, our secretary, to put out a notice of where we were and to keep going. We sent another update Friday afternoon. By Saturday night, we had our answers ready to be sent to the ANA.
This process added some excitement to our club’s members. Oftentimes we had been a bit lackadaisical in our efforts, failing to get much volunteer activity or enthusiasm on ideas calling for action. But now we had something with which to feel pride and satisfaction. Those feelings helped us this year as we made an exhibit for the January Florida United Numismatists Show.
We had never made an exhibit in the past, but several members volunteered to contribute to this effort on how living near Cape Canaveral has influenced us in our collecting hobby. We won first place in the Coin Club group.
We have a new spirit of cooperation among our members now as we enjoy our hobby, improve our meetings, and gain new members every month. It all goes back to working together for the unity of the club.
Tim Janecke South Brevard Coin Club Satellite Beach, Fla.
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