#*Mrs Doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR
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mistress anto, i dont think i can wait for another friday for the next chapter to drop, i need to see MC put that arrogant nora in her place! maybe have seb and MC fight side by side while the rest of the ashwinders just watch how it's done 😭 but in all seriousness, i reread the latest chapter twice a day since it dropped. send help.
I love this so much you have no idea LMAO THANK YOU !!
I promise I'll do my best to make all of this happen, Nora will get her comeuppance in due time and Sebastian and the MC fighting together is most definitely a must, it's bound to happen sooner rather than later 👀
Sending you good vibes to help in these trying times, don't hurt yourself reading lovie 😭
#asks#working on chapter 6 right now and I swear I'll post it first thing Friday morning to put your mind at ease#*Mrs Doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR
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THIS!!!!
when they asked Benedict does he paints or draw and he said "No" with the saddest smile on his face .. that broke me into a million pieces
#bridgerton#bridgerton s3#bridgerton spoilers#luke thompson#benedict bridgerton#your honor i'm in love with him#poor bebe#YOUR LOVE FOR ART WILL COME BACK I PROMISE!!#*sophie in mrs. doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR
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One sunny afternoon, a couple of tourists in San Francisco found themselves in the middle of an unexpected adventure. They were wandering through a small bookstore, scanning the shelves, when they heard a familiar, playful voice behind them. Turning around, they were stunned to see none other than Robin Williams, a grin stretched across his face, as if he had just cracked a joke that only he could understand. Rather than ignore his fans or hide behind sunglasses, he immediately engaged them in conversation. Within minutes, he had the small group in stitches with his improvised accents and quirky observations, showing not just his comedic genius but his humble nature. For Robin, connecting with people was never a chore but something he genuinely enjoyed.
Robin Williams had an uncanny ability to make every fan encounter feel unique and personal. Once, at a New York City comedy club, a young aspiring comedian approached him nervously, unsure of how to introduce himself. Instead of brushing the young man off, Robin put his arm around him, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Do you have a joke for me?” The young comedian, taken aback, stumbled through a joke that he’d been practicing. Robin burst into laughter, not just to humor him, but with genuine appreciation. He gave him pointers, shared advice, and even encouraged him to keep going, emphasizing how crucial it was to find his own voice. This brief encounter became a defining moment in that young man’s life, all because Robin Williams had taken a few minutes to make him feel seen.
Another time, in Los Angeles, Robin was at a coffee shop when a family approached him, excited but hesitant. They had a young boy with them who was clearly in awe. Robin noticed the boy’s nervousness and immediately switched into his "Mrs. Doubtfire" voice, asking, “Hello, dears! How’s everyone doing today?” The boy’s face lit up, and he broke into a smile, instantly recognizing the familiar voice. Robin went on to entertain the entire family with voices and impressions, making sure the little boy felt like he was in a private comedy show. For Robin, it was never about just signing an autograph or taking a quick photo; he went the extra mile to ensure that every interaction was memorable and heartfelt.
One of the most heartwarming stories about Robin’s humility happened during a hospital visit. He often visited children’s hospitals, sometimes unannounced, donning his "Patch Adams" persona or other beloved characters. During one such visit, he met a young girl who was battling a serious illness. Robin sat beside her, held her hand, and spent nearly an hour cracking jokes, making faces, and bringing a genuine smile to her face. He never once looked at the clock or acted like he had somewhere else to be. For him, being there and bringing joy to that little girl was the most important thing he could be doing. Hospital staff recalled how Robin made sure that every child in the ward had a moment of laughter, even if it was just a few seconds. His humility wasn’t a show—it was genuine, unfiltered kindness.
Even outside of public spaces, Robin had a way of connecting with people in the most unexpected places. There’s a story of him at an airport lounge where a tired airline employee was working a double shift. Robin noticed the fatigue in her eyes and decided to lighten her mood. With his classic mischievous smile, he slid up to the counter and started speaking in a thick, exaggerated Russian accent, pretending to be an international spy who had lost his passport. The bewildered employee couldn’t help but laugh, even as he continued to spin an elaborate story of espionage and intrigue. For those few moments, her exhaustion was replaced with laughter, and her long shift suddenly didn’t seem quite so hard.
Robin’s kindness extended beyond spontaneous encounters. He was known for staying after his stand-up shows, often for hours, chatting with fans who waited just to say hello. One time, after a particularly long show, a fan nervously approached him, explaining how his comedy had helped her through a tough time. Robin listened attentively, asking questions and offering words of encouragement. When she thanked him and apologized for taking his time, he responded simply, “No, thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” For Robin, every fan interaction was a two-way exchange; he valued the connection as much as they did.
Perhaps one of the most surprising stories about Robin Williams happened during a taxi ride in New York. He struck up a conversation with the cab driver, who was excited but also overwhelmed to have the famous comedian in his backseat. Robin asked him about his life, his dreams, and his family, genuinely interested in hearing his story. By the end of the ride, Robin gave the driver a generous tip, but even more valuable was the memory he left behind. The driver later shared that Robin’s curiosity and warmth had made him feel important, as if his own life story was just as fascinating as any Hollywood film.
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Tonee, I have a confession.......idk any sleep tolken songs other than the summoning and idk which other songs to listen to or the band peoples names...Help please-
long post ahead
*mrs. doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR
you already know The Summoning, GOD BLESS. I would suggest:
but really all of their songs are so good
members:
ii- our short king, maestro, the one who glues the whole band together, THEE DRUMMER EVER, loml, fellow Mouse Begging For Cheese™
iii- if you see someone with a Fuckass Bob™ and looks like he would chase you through a forest, that's iii on the bass
iv- the coolest guy with his distinguishable leather jacket and slutty behavior, iv on the guitar
vessel- if you see a shirtless dude on stage hopping around while simultaneously yearning his heart out, that's vessel the frontman
hopefully this helps!!!
#i love getting random Sleep Token things in my ask it makes me v heppy 🥰#sleep token#Tonee's asks#zipperrants
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saw someone on twitter post these hongjoong pics, and said, “imagine him walking straight into the bar with this expression on his face” and i just….i had to scream to someone about this so here i am. send help 🥲
(In my Mrs. Doubtfire voice: "HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR! HELP IS ON THE WAY!"/j)
No but I can only imagine what he'd be up to in a bar looking like that, especially if he had his eyes on you, specifically you Nat, the love of his life someone, yk? Totally not imagining mafia leader joong, at all🤭
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*In a Mrs. Doubtfire voice while barreling towards you* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR!!!
-🪓
THANK YOU
*flopping on the floor like a dead fish*
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sat my ass DOWN in my campus library for four hours and put my phone in my bag. got a good chunk of work done, feel good, feel strong. now I shall write bc I had someone send in an emergency request last night and *Mrs Doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR
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*Mrs. Doubtfire voice*: "Help is on the way dear!"
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif pulled from google)
You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”
“Good.”
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.
Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”
“Oh? How so?”
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”
“We’re doing our best.”
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”
You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.
Tattoos.
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.
He has a point.
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.
“It’s his fault.” You murmur.
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours.
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”
“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”
You nod. “Ozone.”
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.
“Why not?” She asks.
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.
That word again.
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”
You nod. “Thank you.”
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.
Ask for one thing that you want.
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.
You could ask for something that’s not material.
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.
You can want this.
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.
You want this.
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”
You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.
This isn’t a want.
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.
“Come in.”
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.
The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.
You’re going to be the death of him.
Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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I'm sorry I know Mer! Virgil is sad but I saw you mention Logan and a lil boat and all I can think of is that one tiktok quoting Mrs.Doubtfire "help is on the way dear, help is on the way!"
Just Logan rowing FULL SPEED to go comfort big friend with even Bigger SAD.🐙
I've missed out on that Tik-Tok, but I am familiar with the scene! Imagining Logan calling that line in Mrs. Doubtfire's voice had me laughing! xD
Logan wouldn't need to put that much effort to get to him however! The man got a trawler boat! Well, it's not his but you get the idea. ;D
#Ask#prplzorua#gma ask#Muppen doodles#I gave up on making Logan and the boat look ok#but I worked long enough on it so why not share#now that you mentioned it xDD#heck Logan tiny...#I mean he's 6ft even but#heck#he should be thankful the mer's holding back the waterworks ;p
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Small F/O prompt:
Darling: *sighs in distress*
F/O: *Mrs. Doubtfire voice* "Help is on the way, Dear!" *pushes everyone down*
I saw this meme on TikTok the other day, "for when your homies got your back to get the plan b ready;" honestly thought it was adorable.
#f/o stuff#imagine your f/o#f/o prompts#romantic f/o#platonic f/o#prochoice if you think about that last line#yandere if you squint REALLY hard
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*Thinks for a moment then gets an idea. poofs in front of Chara wearing granny clothes* (Mrs doubtfire voice) Listen to Conner dear, Creator!Conner knows… You got to get ur mind off all dis violence. *touches Chara’s head and we poof into a nice comforting room* (normal voice and no more granny clothes) Heres a sure fire way to help smooth things out with you my dear chara. *twirls my sword* A HEAPING HELPING OF OF FAMILY THERAPY MAGIC!~ *swings sword and it sends of glitters. each glitter poofs into something. Comfy couch, box of chocolates. candy bowl. hot chocolate maker. vase of golden flowers on a desk. and a chair next to the couch with pillow and blankets* Now let the HEALING BEGIN! *snaps fingers and i poof into the chair wearing glasses and having pen in paper. Chara now in the comfy therapy chair* Tell me about your childhood SHARE with us young one. uwu
Chara: *laughs, entertained by the act* Let us ignore that whole fairy godmother thing for this moment. *sighs as she sits up to grab a choccy from the mini table and gets herself comfortable* I suppose I could start from the surface. It was never nice up there. There was always conflict, drama, anger, violence, disagreements, and peaceful moments barely last. But even then I was always alone. I had no friends, and nor did I want to associate myself with others. There are… other events, but I never tell anyone. Not even Asriel. There is some information one would rather keep private.
Humanity is disgraceful and I could not bear it anymore. So I ran away. That is where Mt. Ebott came in. No one had ever come back from there, so I went off of that and Asriel found me. At first I was weary, but we gradually became best friends. My only friend. And I was Asriel only one too. Toriel and Asgore adopted me and… we were all happy. It felt like they were my actual family. Monsters are so nice with lots of personality and try to stay happy, even if they are trapped underground. The funniest part is how they want to go to the surface. Of course, I didn’t have the heart to tell them what it is really like.
*helps herself to another chocolate* Eventually me and Asriel decided to do that plan with the buttercups, which I thought work but… he refused to hurt anyone even as the humans killed us. Haha... *Chara clenches her fist, making a sound behind her teeth somewhere in between a whimper and a laugh* Everyone knows that story though so I do not think I need to explain more.
Later on I came back as a ghost through frisk and met Flowey, but did not know who he was at first. Of course, at the end of Frisk’s first Pacifist run I was shocked. My one friend had become a human. *light chuckle* Not literally. Mentally. And that hit me hard. I was reincarnated during one of the resets when I came in contact with anons. I am not talking about now- I was here before too for a little while. I looked at monsters suffering and the prophecy about the angel of death. Monsters wished for freedom so bad they would die to get out of this world… so I went on and took as many lives I could to ‘free’ them. At one point I lost the purpose and started aimlessly killing, taking Flowey with me to help. I am not so proud of that anymore, and Asriel, or rather Flowey, is still sick in the head. Which is why he deserves punishment.
Fastforward to after being banished to the void after some crazy stuff I do not want to explain, and I am here. There. My life’s story, otherwise known as childhood.
(I am terribly sorry for your face. I meant to make it goofy, but the eyes didn’t look too good and I had to do it over digitally and even so it looks iffy so please forgive me lol)
#undertale#art#small artist#chara#ask flowey#chara undertale#undertale art#paper art#undertale fanart#ask blog#ask undertale#vent#therapy#flowey#Asriel#ask dcf#funny ask#sad response#long post
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HELP IS ON THE WAY, DEAR
(Said in a Mrs. Doubtfire voice)
Mine. 💞
Always <3
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got another fuck squad session in, my dudes! ft. my dope blackberry rhubarb crostata and one of the gifts from maddela’s player, a rainbow of rocks from the fuck squad camping trip i had to miss because i was working. (she also got me multiple litres of cider, but that’s for later.)
so before the fuck squad actually nears, like, the plot or anything, they have sergei’s wedding shower. they get the ship’s cook to make them a cake.
rhonia: “we want it to be really rude.” cook: “i’m a sailor. that rude?”
maddela brews some moonshine for the party in her poison distilling kit and dear god am i lucky she rolled well because i am not emotionally ready for her to unintentionally poison the whole party at a wedding shower. they also make some decorations.
rhonia goes to tell pashmina what’s going on, and we learn i can’t make a horse noise to save my life
maddela: “and look i made punch!” “you didn’t ask for any ingredients for this punch besides your moonshine.” “it’s strong punch.”
rhonia: “you can only wear one magic ring on each hand.” “yeah, you can’t be a magic pimp.” saida: “WHY AM I PLAYING THIS GAME”
rhonia and maddela chanted “salt-encrusted dicks!” for some reason
they also gave him wedding shower presents- he got rhonia’s bowl of comfortable warmth, maddela gives him gold jewelled nipple clamps, and yoni gives him a mahogany rolling pin. there’s lots of fireworks.
saida: “SPACE DOCKING! any day i can yell space docking is a good one. there’s not a lot of those.”
they also use the bag of trading for more gifts so sergei gets an apron that says Kiss the Cock on it
the next day, they go to voight, a city dominated by copper spires that rise up into the sky. they see machines and immediately decide that the city is run by fake fantasy scientologists who worship ridium
their first round of help comes from a teenage urchin named amelie, who shows them around, first to an inn called the elegant nymph
amelie has a friend in jesus. specifically, another urchin named jesus because i accidentally said “jeeeeesus” even though i already established that he’s not a part of my world’s mythology
they decide the innkeeper of the elegant nymph, bertha, is mrs. doubtfire for absolutely no reason and my voice was great.
sergei: “she rolled a 3 to punch his cock! she just like tapped his dick, that’s it”
rhonia: “before we go, have you ever heard of a god called ridium?”
these fucks are paranoid
amelie gives them a brief tour, where she tells them the story of the founding of voight.
long story short, there’s an elf named leodithas and a dwarf named bandrum. they both fled their homelands as refugees from war, and ended up travelling together. when they arrived at the site that would become voight, both of them heard a voice in their head saying that they should bury their most prized possession and leave in the middle of the night without a word, and then their troubles might continue but their companion would find true happiness.
rhonia: “are they gonna bury each other?” sergei: “you can’t own another person! RHONIA.”
bandrum chose a smooth blue stone he had salvaged from the ruins of his hometown. leodithas, having nothing from his home, chose to bury his last small piece of bread. they caught each other trying to leave in the middle of the night, laughed, embraced, and stayed together. the next day they discovered rich mines of copper and that the sea filled with fish, so they settled down in the site, building their home between the places they buried the stone and the bread. they were the first settlers of voight, but more came, and it turned into a village, then a town, until finally they built this city on the rock and roll
I HAD BEEN WAITING OVER A MONTH TO SAY THIS JOKE AND DEAR GOD WAS IT WORTH IT
sergei: “it’s like a buck saw.” saida: “what’s a bucksaw? i’ll look it up.” me, mishearing: “don’t look up fucksaw” yoni: “a fucksaw is just, like, aggressive scissoring”
they went to the library, where saida wanted to look up the extradition laws (because these guys are specifically horny for the lore i hadn’t really thought about) and yoni wanted to look up ridium and also the contraptions they kept seeing around. meanwhile rhonia took a nap, maddela went busking, and sergei went to find the secret market where they can get magic tattoos.
yoni: “i would have subtitled it magic, the boring.” “well that’s why you haven’t written this book.”
yoni doesn’t find out much about ridium, but she does discover that most of the clockwork mechanisms around were built by gnomes, whose descendants still fix them.
saida: “i’m pre-law” “in that you do things before laws are made to stop you doing them.”
“all the books are very dry, very boring.” yoni: “title of your sex tape.”
“you’re unlikely to get deported unless you do some serious crimes. so prolly shouldn’t have paid for two weeks at the inn.”
there was also a bit about xalvador, who is a half-orc sex worker librarian who is happily married but having an affair with his work? gotta love the random character generator
“it’s like footloose but for prostitutes. buttloose.”
saida: “what do i roll to be extra charming?” “bluff.”
sergei finds the entrance to the criminal underworld, and also buys a little carved horse statue.
“the person selling horse statues is a gnome-” yoni: “he’s not working on clockwork? so he’s a failed gnome?”
the squad goes down and finds the magic tattoo parlor. inside is a very tall man (about eight feet) who wears long sweeping robes, has dark skin, and iridescent whitish hair. the squad decide he’s a drow for absolutely no reason.
he tells them they can get magical tattoos for the low price of 500 gold and a favor each. “it’ll only be five minutes of your time.”
saida: “oh but the favor’s gonna be sketchy.” “no, it’s not.” “OKAY! let’s do it!”
saida: “how often do i use wisdom?” “rarely.”
i am gettin’ off those zingers tonight!
sergei and saida each get two tattoos. sergei gets an elephant for intelligence and a fox for dexterity on his tiddies, while saida gets a peacock for charisma and an owl for wisdom on her hands. rhonia wants more charisma but requests a special version since she doesn’t like peacocks, so he does a picture of one of her face of the devourers on her chest. yoni gets one that will allow her to fly for six rounds a day, which looks like muhammad ali with desna’s butterfly wings. both she and sergei’s player drew beautiful renditions.
maddela stays back at the market to seek out some sketchy work, while the squad goes to a tavern called the paladin’s favor to find some less sketchy shit
when they come in, a rogue is trying to sell a party member of his that was turned to stone. the squad considers it before dropping the question.
the most interesting job they find is tracking down a seller of stolen magical items, who knows saida from her crime days. i renamed him jon bovi after a v good bon jovi imitation
saida: “there’s a statute of limitations. “no, the statue of limitations is over there being used as a coat rack”
the leader of the assassin’s guild, erris, asks for maddela’s credentials. maddela: “i’ve done some not very nice things”
maddela: “back in chillwater, well, we solved a murder” “that’s kind of the exact opposite of what i’m asking you to do.”
after telling erris about how she did very much stab lord acotar right in the asshole, erris offers maddela a chance at an open contract to murder the mayor, malkyn de bolbec.
maddela: “you can call me..... m.” saida: “.... for maddela.” “or MURDER.”
on her way out, maddela is surprised to see tarand, who stops her and asks to chat with her for a little while, and that’s when the session ends
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Would you like to remember every passwor
Would you like to remember every passwor
Would you like to remember every password? Help you is on the way dear! (in my best Mrs Doubtfire voice) – Generate memorable, unique, secure passwords you never need write down http://ht.ly/oz8K30nSyGk
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(Mrs. Doubtfire voice)Help is on the way dear! Help is on the way!
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Hi! This isn’t a request but I was reading a Jason Todd smut fic you wrote about reader being unsure about if something she read in a romance novel was realistic and then she and Jason do the deed? My tumblr refreshed and I lost it and I can’t find it on your blog. Was it deleted?? I was enjoying it so much 😭😭
*Mrs Doubtfire voice* HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR!!! HELP IS ON THE WAY!!
It’s “The Sovereign Beauty” and here’s a link that I hope works! Thank you so much :)
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