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roosterforme · 4 months

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Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half.

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him.

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave.

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked.

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

---------------------------------

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always.

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

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Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list.

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts.

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously.

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest.

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name.

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him.

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock.

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

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In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused.

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

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Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed.

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed.

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart."

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

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After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing.

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster.

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

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Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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genacity · 2 years

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⌗ scaramouche smile while i fuck you

cw. sub! scara x hard? dom! reader. anal pen/pegging— reader has a cock 🤯 modern au? choking. degradation? slight dacryphilia; picture-taking 🙈

an. don’t yell at me. but. — i rlly like this idea. i saw this prompt somewhere and i genuinely cannot stop thinking about it so. here i am. after months of my disappearance. cannot promise it won’t happen again. 💔

imagining scaramouche with his back to your mattress, legs spread and hoisted up high— your palms digging into his ass as the skin flushes red; yet nothing compared to the hue of his cheeks.

scaramouche’s squeals of desperation as your cock hits his prostate in all of the right places; skin sweaty and eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure. “ahn, oh fuck!— fuck m—e, please!” scaramouche wails, his nails digging into his calves as he struggles to prop his own legs up.

his body shakes, short gasps and thin breaths the only actions the poor thing could focus on— scaramouche would be able to focus so much better if it weren’t for your fat cock buried deep inside him— wait— wh, what are you doing?

your thrusts had slowed their pace as you grabbed for your phone on your bedside table. scaramouche whined as your dick turned inside him, his hands gripping onto his legs with the least of the strength he had left. “what— what the hell do you think you’re doing?” scaramouche hissed through short hiccups.

“you look so cute, kuni,” he shivered at the use of the nickname. “gotta preserve the moment, no?” scaramouche whimpered, hips grinding down onto your cock as boiling hot impatience replaced the blood in his veins. “jus’ fuck me! put that shit away ‘nd—”

his whines of protest had met their match. your dominant hand quickly found it’s way around his neck, squeezing down and putting pressure on the sides. you kept up with your lazy thrusts as incoherent gargles spilled from your lover’s throat.

“you should shut up ‘n be grateful, kuni.” you spat, your hips fucking up into scaramouche as his eyes almost went cross. “now, smile while i fuck you.”

as soon as your pace went from sheepish and slow to hard and quick, your dear doll scaramouche simply couldn’t respond. his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open, drool pooling on his bottom lip and spilling out from the sides. the pressure on his neck only snapped him back to reality as your face hovered above his, beside it a camera accompanied you.

“did you not hear me?” you snarled, turning your camera on. “i said, smile while i fuck you.”

and from the haziness of his expression erupted a weak, dazed smile as his eyes met the flash of your phone camera, confirming you’d gotten the photo you wanted.

“finally. now you can get what you want.”

#@ genacity ☆#@ scaramouche ☆#dom reader #sub character #genshin x reader smut #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x y/n #sub scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #where the fuck did i come from

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ysabelmystic · 1 year

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“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

#r196 #r/196 #196 #196 campfire #ask games

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firadessa · 11 months

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✨Fairies Finds✨: New Early Artwork and Promotional Video from 2005 Disney Fairies Japan Website with Gail Carson Levine- Author of Fairy Dust Trilogy

Fly with you everyone and happy Friday the 13th! I have been looking into Disney Fairies pre-release stuff ever since some early stuff was posted into Art of Disney Fairies. I have also been interested in media preservation since late 2017 when I found Web Back Then. Truthfully, despite having this interest when trying to find the old Disney Fairies games from my childhood- I never really shared much with the world. I feel like I should remedy that! (this find is relatively recent though I found it yesterday!)

This is a video I found on the Internet Archive from disneyfairies.jp, a promotional page on the Disney Japan website that seems disconnected from the main Disney Fairies page which was a clone of the original website. See here

Through some research the gist of the video is this:

The video starts with an introduction to the original Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, which is interjected with clips from Disney's Peter Pan. Then we see more artwork of Disney Fairies- including unfamilar designs including early Vidia, Rani, Fira etc. According to Part of the Magic, Disney Fairies started development in early 2001- the series was launched fully in 2005. Then Gail (dubbed of course) begins to describe the plot of Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg whilst we see several pictures of this early Disney Fairies art. Interesting pictures as we get to see the very early designs of Disney Fairies characters that I have never seen before.

Interestingly, this video was never embedded on the page, you had to download it and play it through a video player such as Windows Media Player or Real Player, it was 2005 after all.

Here is the screen you'd see when you'd want to watch this promotional video. I recognize the leaves used in early flash games such as Lightball Challenge, Dragonfly Race etc.

A page on the website that I found with my decomplier, i couldn't view it normally!

I tried looking for this video in English to no avail, or any version on the internet. It must have only been accessible through this website.

Interestingly, I found this other page whilst doing my page digging thing again and found this, suggesting this was also a Japan exclusive and not for the American market ... and there is more early promotional stuff to be found in relation to Disney Fairies!

I also looked into one the main book artists on the creative team, Judith Holmes Clarke. She had a website I found on her IMDB page, that was live around 2017-2019. I saw this and wanted to add it as it had one of the stills in this video. It also has a sketch of Rosetta and Tink. This is what I found:

It is probably a scan of this magazine, Disney Newsreel, mentioned on her IMDB.

Overall, I'm super happy with this find and I'm so happy to share it with you all!! I will be happy to share more now that I'm publicly outing myself not just as this fan of children's fairy media- an archivist. gasp...

Also probably making a website/blog which I will share later and will be in the About Me link with my other socials.

And believe me, this is just the beginning

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claireelizabeth85 · 6 months

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Come Home to Me - Chapter 3

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: We learn a bit more about what is going on with Lizzy. For those not entirely sure where this is going - think Evie from The Mummy 2 and Claire from Outlander.

Warnings: Implications of death, heartbreak, sorrow.

AN: Many thanks to those of you who have read Chapters 1 and 2. If you have questions or want to share your thoughts/ideas of where this could be going, shoot me a message - I would love to hear your thoughts.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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The atmosphere inside the White Stag was warm and cosy, a stark contrast to the chill of the evening outside. Lizzy and Sarah found themselves surrounded by a few elderly locals, including James Thatcher, who had revealed his connection to Lizzy. They exchanged pleasantries as James introduced the other patrons as some of the children Lizzy remembered from her time in the village. Each conversation she had seemed to deepen the mystery of her past, as more people claimed to have known her "back then." Despite Sarah's scepticism, Lizzy couldn't ignore the feeling of familiarity and belonging she felt among these strangers.

Suddenly, James leaned in and whispered something to his grandson, who hurried off to retrieve something from the back of the pub. Lizzy's heart raced with anticipation as she watched the young man return with a dusty trunk, its wooden exterior weathered with age.

"This," James said solemnly, "is yours."

Lizzy's hands trembled as they ghosted over the lid, her rank and name etched into the surface were now dull with age. As she reached out to touch the trunk, her mind was racing with questions and emotions. With a deep breath, she slowly lifted the lid revealing a treasure trove of memories carefully preserved within. Her civilian clothes, dress uniform and a spare flight suit were all neatly folded and smelling faintly of lavender. Photographs of familiar faces smiled up at her, frozen in time. Books she hadn't seen in years nestled among the keepsakes.

But it was the sight of a red checked blanket that brought tears to Lizzy's eyes. She smiled at memories of lazy afternoons spent with John and she felt her cheeks flush with emotion. Something she had never expected to see lay tucked safely beneath the blanket. A letter, yellowed with age but bearing John's unmistakable handwriting waited for her.

Excusing herself, she took her drink and the letter outside. As she delicately unfolded it with shaking hands, every word seemed to carve deeper into her already wounded heart. John's opening words, "My darling Lizzy," echoed with a tenderness that both soothed and exacerbated her pain. Tears blurred the lines of his familiar handwriting as if mimicking the haze that clouded her mind.

The absence of any prior communication gnawed at her, emphasising the significance of this final missive. It was as if fate had handed her the last fragment of their connection, a cruel reminder of what once was and could never be again. John's words painted a picture of longing and despair, his agony palpable with each sentence. “The very thought of you waiting for me kept me going in that hell - but I knew the moment that I saw Buck, the look on his face told me you were gone”. The weight of his absence bore down on her, a burden too heavy for her fragile heart to bear alone.

In his lament, he bared the depths of his sorrow, mourning the life they should have shared. Their unspoken vows, the promise they had whispered in the secrecy of tangled bed sheets under a burning London night sky now lay shattered amidst the ruins of their dreams.

With each passing sentence, the weight of John's absence grew heavier and heavier. Each one a jagged shard piercing her already wounded soul, the pain that poured from the paper, the magnitude of his love for her was too overwhelming to comprehend. She remembered this feeling, of having her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. But this time, there were no screams of grief that burned her lungs, no physical pain to match the agony of the hollow emptiness that she felt within, made ever more real by solitary, battered fortress that sat on the airfield reminding her that it had not brought him home.

As she finished reading, Lizzy held the letter close, the weight of her grief enveloping her. Surrounded by the lingering shadows of her past, the pain of her loss surged within her, too potent to suppress. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked, a torrent of emotion unleashed by the overwhelming sorrow that consumed her.

She longed for them all: John, Gale, Crosby, Biddick, Pappy, Benny, Crank—their camaraderie, their laughter, their unwavering support. Memories flooded her mind, scenes of shared moments and inside jokes, each one a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost.

She missed the way they would tease the new recruits, the protective arm John would wrap around her, the astonished whispers as she took her place in the cockpit and the forever furrowed brow of Chick Harding, sceptical of her relentless quest for missions.

Amid her grief, Lizzy found solace in John's words, a testament to a love that endured. Though separated by time and tragedy, she would love him as deeply now as she did then.

#masters of the air #mota fanfiction #john egan x fem!reader #john egan fanfic #gale cleven #curtis biddick #comehometome #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #John x Lizzy Waterfield #mota fanfic #John Egan

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doubleddenden · 2 years

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Okay so like... anyone else have some insane theories about wtf happened in the Great Crater? I'm sitting here like

and i saw really good theories, but i had my own takes on how certain things went down. Mind you I'm playing from the perspective of someone that beat Violet, so if there's something slightly different in Scarlet (which I doubt its all that different), i might be a tad off.

But if you want to fall down into this rabbit hole with me, read on what I basically copied from my insane ramblings at my friends and slightly expanded on. BUT, be warned, do not read unless you have beaten all the stories of the game. All of them. There's major spoilers if you do, and I strongly recommend you experience the ending for how powerful it is, and read the Violet book contents for yourself in the Entrance Hall.

There's a book called the Violet/Scarlet book depending on the version, and it was written by a man named Heath from the Area Zero expedition team that explored this huge, unmapped and perilous Great Crater at the center of Paldea/PokeSpain. Heath wrote about a lot of crazy things that the public thought was nothing more than fantasy roughly… I think 200 years ago? Until the professor half proves it true about 10 years ago by discovering the "jewels" that the book talked about that would make Pokemon all sparkly- Terrastilizing basically- and made them a pretty common phenomena in the rest of Paldea. This same book also mentions various weird monsters that look like either ancient versions of Pokemon or futuristic robot versions of Pokemon- again, this is HUNDREDS of years ago written down- and these Pokemon do exist.

Further into the Violet book, Heath talks about a particular… Thing he saw- He's unsure of whether its a Pokemon at all and the text is all garbled, and the picture is hardly any help because it kinda looks about as abstract as an Evangeleon angel. BUT, the Pokemon is said to be comprised of a LOT of hexagonal shapes basically, and since it's heavily hinted like this, it's most likely another legendary Pokemon not covered in base Scarlet or Violet at this point. Here's the creepy part about the hexagons: Professor Turo/Sada- although not really them and more like their AI counterpart- basically gets the player to come down to Area Zero/The Great Crater's very bottom to turn off a time machine that is uncontrollable, following a strict program by the ORIGINAL Professor that is long since dead, and is bringing past/future Pokemon to the present in ways that would destroy or endanger our ecosystems. GUESS WHAT FUCKING SHAPES ARE COMPRISED OF THE TIME MACHINE ROOM??? well, triangles, but also HEXAGONS!!!! LOTS OF MULTICOLOR HEXAGONS!!!

it gets even weirder. Heath wrote an entry about how he and his team found these weird carvings and symbols in Area Zero that cannot be deciphered. He also writes about how he woke up someplace random one night, faintly remembering having a conversation with something or someone but not having the foggiest clue what, and he had notes and shit scribbled down after that. Separate from that, the Time Machine Turo/Sada built is able to send pokeballs to distant eras to capture and bring back those creatures to the present- but they didn't invent it until about 10 years prior to the present day- AND YET Heath still saw Paradox Pokemon. It'd be a simple thing to say the Great Crater acts as a nature preserve to super ancient Pokemon if it were just that- but 200 years ago in VIOLET Specifically, a robot Donphan mortally wounded a team member- same as the ancient Donphan does in Scarlet. That should be impossible because Iron Treads/Robot Donphan is from the FUTURE, not the past.

BUT for some fucking reason, for some DANG OL REASON, despite us going through several fail safes to turn it off, more and more fail safes come back online despite the AI wanting us to turn it off- because the AI saw that this was dangerous, but Turo for some reason wanted DESPERATELY to keep the Time Machine running. The desperation is so intense that the fail safes are able to overwrite AI Turo's will in order to protect the time machine.

Basically it seems fated that Turo/Sada obtains the Violet/Scarlet book somehow, because it ends up being their favorite childhood book and eventually brings them to the crater where they set up a lab and eventually succeed in building their time machine and proving Terrastilization is real. Turo, from my end anyway because Violet, seems obsessed with making "Paradise" in which Future Pokemon can coexist with present Pokemon- In fact, he seems to be driven somewhat mad by it, because his fellow scientists- including the woman that would become his son/Arven's mother even abandoned him. Turo would eventually create an AI that is a perfect replica of his personality and memories to a certain extent, made only possible due to the energy that is available down there. Turo would eventually be killed by a second Miraidon that he brings back from the future- I assume Sada is killed by a second Koraidon- either way, the robot is now all that's left of the Professor, and it asks us to come down to turn it off.

I believe Turo had some sort of… connection to some sort of entity- probably the same one that conversed with Heath- and the entity basically laid out seeds that would lead to Turo creating the time machine- including having Turo send future Pokemon back to the exact point the Zero Expedition was happening, ensuring the Violet Book would be written and bring him there. But now the issue is this: Why? Why was he so desperate? Why was it so important to keep the portal open? p2

The hexagons play another role in this: In Area Zero, crystals grow rampantly and even swallows technology whole, even trees aren't spared, but it was able to swallow WHOLE BUILDINGS. The mysterious Hexagon thingy Heath found is most likely the progenitor to Terrastilizing- and this is where it gets weirder and weirder- Terrastilized crowns that EVERY POKEMON WEARS all have tiny faces in the crowns. The orb that allows us to Terrastilize is also conveniently shaped like a Pokeball, imo.

Theory time: Terrastilizing is a sort of soft fusion between a regular Pokemon and this hexagonal entity that can alter its types- Which probably means it can be any type like Arceus. And again, the entire room the time machine is in is COVERED in hexagons- rainbow prism hexagons that constantly change and refract colors. Crazy time: The original Turo/Sada was lured into the Crater by some being- maybe from the ancient past or from the far future- so that it could make some sort of bridge to our time from when its most powerful, because as of now, its power barely escapes the crater in the form of Terra crowns. They were sort of driven mad by the same thing that visited Heath until they died. THIS THING IS AN ELDRITCH BEING OF SOME SORT. Maybe it has access to ancient records if its from the future after assimilating with technology, maybe it has clairvoyance about the far future due to being in its prime back in the ancient past- either way, there's something it wants in the present, and it NEEDED the time machine to be open.

And I don't wanna point fingers, but I think Glimmora has something to do with this. Glimmora is relatively... weak? Maybe not quite as imposing Pokemon as something like Garchomp or something to be the ace of a "Top" Champion. BUT, in Violet, this is its dex entry:

Violet: Glimmora's petals are made of crystallized poison energy. It has recently become evident that these petals resemble Tera Jewels.

Its face also resembles the face in the crowns of each terra crown as well.

Now I'm not saying Glimmora is exactly evil- no no no, I'm merely putting it in the same boat as Cyclizard and Carbink specifically. Cyclizard, as we know, is either the descendant or ancestor to Koraidon and Miraidon, and Diancie is said to have evolved from a Carbink and then created Mega Stones. GUESS WHAT POKEMON IS SUPER FUCKING COMMON DOWN IN THE DEEPEST PITS OF AREA ZERO??? Glimmora! Where all of those crystals grow! What if this super ancient or super future hexoganal Pokemon is some sort of relative to it? Glimmora in the present just being a regular Pokemon or perhaps innocent seeming eyes for it- either way, like Cyclizard, it would become a future evolved from a past variant.

Let's go deeper. Glimmora and Glimmet have 6 flower petals- the Terra jewels are hexagonal. The petals for both are a toxic mineral- Whenever a Trainer Terrastilizes, it seems like it might be slightly painful for them or hard to control- most wince. Geeta... doesn't. She reacts to it, but not like others do, merely glancing at the Terra Orb. The player has no issues with this and seems to do it with zero discomfort.

When Geeta Terrastilizes, she says "Be the light of all trainers, Glimmora." Which... Could just be flavor text, but I feel like there could be more as well.

So now my theory is that this Hexagon Pokemon is likely some sort of eldritch being that can communicate with people via their minds- And mind you, another Rock/Poison type also could poison the minds of someone it possesses, that Pokemon being Nihilego. It could be that this Pokemon is brainwashing or sort of making people do its bidding- all to get the time machine built.

So now we're left with "Why?" and "How."

And I think we have a perhaps even bigger question

What the actual hell made that fucking crater?

and two scarier ones:

What does it want?

Could something turn the machine back on? Because we know things other than Pokeballs can travel through time thanks to AI Turo.

I think future DLC is going to be fucking WILD because holy shit, the story in this game is already freaking fantastic, and now we might havve some major eldritch conspiracy shit going on.

Or I'm probably wrong, reading way too deep into this, and GF is just gonna be like "lol who knows" like they usually do. They tend to do that a lot and just... never elaborate on things. This time just feels way too detailed and interwoven to just be left alone, though.

end Pepe Silvia time

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet and violet spoilers #doubled plays games #listen i know the game is bugged and stuff and i've gone at length about that in other posts. this is pepe silvia time.#futire edit from 2024: it wasnt thst deep

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lorkai · 1 year

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*･゜ﾟ A/N: I warn y'all right away that I will not pay for therapy for anyone who reads this /j. But fr I had to write this scenario even though I was crying while I was writing lol. (I'm tagging you because I think you'd like this @lemonandlime22 @sweetbydarkness )

*･゜ﾟ Warning: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, character death, idk how to write the ending so it was kind of open ended.

"Photos are amazing, aren't they?" Lilia's voice was lost in his labored breathing. His throat burned and his lips trembled the more time he spent looking into the faces of everyone he'd ever lost.

All those people he would never see again. All those people he saw swallowed by the earth. All of them preserved in those almost yellowed pages, smiling, laughing or celebrating some achievement, so oblivious to the events that would lead them to their deaths.

And among them, Lilia noted with an ache in his heart, was his boy. Silver smiled as he held the hand of his beloved and also human, Yuu. They made an amazing couple and their wedding was so beautiful that Lilia found himself dreaming of that day. If he closed his eyes now he would see it all play out in his mind again, how he helped Silver choose his suit and write his vows, and how he guided Yuu down the aisle, handing them to his son, with a big smile on his face.

The fae sat in his armchair for hours, flipping through each page and reliving each memory. Memories of when he enlisted to serve in the Briar Valley Army, memories of the first friends he made, and then the precious memories of his dear son with such expressive eyes and goofy smile as just a baby.

Silver was like having an anchor that reminded him that there was still good in the world. He was a smiley baby and his laughter was so infectious that Lilia found himself laughing rather than lecturing him after every prank young Silver pulled off. He even remembers what Malleus and Silver's awkward interactions were like.

He missed his son very much. Lilia supposes that as an immortal, he should be used to death and all the feeling because he's seen it many times, he's seen nations rise and die, he's seen many important people etch their names into history and then return to earth, but still his eyes filled with tears with every page he turned. And he couldn't stop. He needs to see him again, he needs to remember every little thing because if he doesn't remember, he's afraid he'll forget.

Just like he forgot several other people.

"He wouldn't want to see you so worn out." A sober voice sounded in the room, deep, carrying a pain just like Lilia's. And Malleus with a face closed from any emotion sat back on his heels in front of Lilia and his hands gripped the album the older fae was staring at so earnestly, gently trying to pry it out of Lilia's hands. "Silver would probably say you need to get some rest. He'd hate to see you crying and isolating yourself here, and you know it."

Lilia let out a long sigh and looked away from the picture of his son with his first sword. Instead, he focused on the thunder falling over the starless sky, it seemed that even the night felt gloomy and the tiny raindrops adorned the cold windows like tiny crystals. He wanted to touch them, he almost touched them, but finally he decided to hold Silver's necklace between his fingers since it was one of the last memories Silver left behind.

"The pain of losing a child… Can you imagine, Malleus?" Lilia asked after remaining silent for a few seconds. "It's like losing a part of you and you know there's no way to get that part back, so you just wish that at least you had gone with it."

Sobs erupted from his throat and Lilia doubled over, trying to hide his face in his hands. And Malleus wrapped him in a strong hug, trying not to show how the death of his brother and friend affected him as much as it did Lilia. He needed to be strong for both of them.

For a good eighty years Malleus and Lilia watched Silver and Yuu grow old happily together. Ephemeral, their life spans so short. They were two bright, kind, amazing humans and they would miss those two dearly.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #angst #hurt / no comfort #silver x yuu #silver x mc #silver x reader #lorkai oneshot

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jroycethethird · 5 months

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who: royce van doren iii, featuring the van doren family and staff

setting: verdant vale hall, the family’s mansion home, a day after the fire

triggers: injury tw, death tw, sexism tw, anti vampire rhetoric (sorry my vamp baddies), mentions of smoking, and pip using a whole lotta words probably incorrectly, also sad golden retriever crying in the gif below

“Honestly, is this really the right course of action? Surely he should have stayed at the hospital, at least for a little bit longer!”

“Not this again, Blythe, we’ve been through it — We can bring in the best of private home care to Verdant Vale and keep a far more watchful eye on him home! He needs rest, and the best professional care money can buy.”

The back and forth arguments echoed down the vast corridors of Verdant Vale Hall, accompanied by the rhythmic click of heels chasing down the familiar winding path to the east wing. Royce could already picture his childhood room — sage green walls and solid mahogany furniture, a perfectly preserved large room straight out of an interior design catalogue, unscathed by the annals of time. He had rarely occupied it before, JR and Blythe opting to send him off to boarding schools his whole life. He spent more time away from “home” than within it, sometimes he thought Verdant Vale in all her glory was just another stranger in his life, one that still bellowed before him as though she knew him perfectly inside and out. Maybe she and her ancestral ghosts did, and maybe they chortled at his expense.

“Sir, you ought to slow down… you’ll wear yourself thin,” an assistant murmured from beside him, her hand hovering diligently at his elbow. Royce sometimes likened them to eager vultures, ferrying their near-dead prey so they could feed off his gilded carcass. He didn’t like being doted on like this, not when it wasn’t genuine.

“Tut, tut, I’m quite fine,” Royce said, chin jutting out and high, pompous as ever. Yet each step brought a great deal of pain and inconvenience. His skin still felt aflame, boiling and scalding wherever the linen of his fine clothes touched him. Not even the bandages or medicine helped calm the lick of phantom flames against his skin, and Royce blinked hard to will the memories away. Being there in the bowels of Starlight as she went alight, nothing but red, red, red around him. You’re fine, stop being a pussy. He swatted a bandaged hand at the hovering assistant, passing the ornate cane hand from his right to left hand as he took the final corner towards his childhood bedroom. “I don’t understand why I can’t live out my misery in my own house, instead of this dreaded mausoleum. In fact — hey, you, you want to be helpful? Go start Goldie Hawn’s engine,” he referenced his beloved yellow 1973 Guila Spider Volce, so ridiculously named. “I’ll meet you down in the garage shortly,” he motioned the assistant away, and yet she didn’t falter, ushering her injured employer into his bedroom. Royce saw the way she deferred silently in reverent glances to his father, the hallowed Van Doren patriarch, who nodded sternly to her as he continued arguing with Royce’s step mother.

“Mr. Van Doren, let’s get you to bed,” she said in a soft, but firm tone, pressing her fingers into his elbow. “Perhaps I can take you for a drive sometime later, yes?”

“Traditrice,” he muttered in a perfect Italian accent to the now-smirking assistant as he begrudgingly entered the room. “So this is what hell looks like,” he hummed, looking over the shelves of first edition books, shiny model cars and hand built boats, among other knick-knacks around. Remnants of a youth he barely remembered.

The shuffle of shoes coming from the adjoining balcony caught Royce’s attention, and a smile grew over his face before the two nearly identical blonde women came in, one with a potted plant in hand. “But the devils here are such swell company, brother,” chimed Cecile Van Doren as she skipped over, a gentle kiss to her brother’s cheek given in greeting before offering up a snake plant. “A gift,” she stated and Royce snorted.

“Yes, and quite a welcome one since I see none of my plants made it since I last visited,” he let his voice raise towards the bickering adults by the door as he looked about him. There were less plants than the hobbyist florist recalled in that room. “Thank you, Cec. I’d take it off your hands, but apparently I’m oh so fragile. Don’t want to break it as much as I’ve broken myself.”

“Sweetheart, we are looking after your well being!” Blythe sighed dramatically from where she leaned against the door jam, glowering still at her husband, “And you’re needed in tip top shape… Our annual Garden Party is upon us, how could we do it without you? Your Uncle Monty will never let us hear the end of it.” Yes, because that was more pressing than anything else going on around town. Heaven forbid he not be in top form for his mother’s ridiculous high brow party.

JR sighed, in equal drama as his wife, running a large hand through sandy hair streaked in white-silver at the temples. “You know, son, if you accepted the vampire blood, then we’d be out of this mess rather quickly. You could be back to your strong, healthy self sooner, and back to doing what really matters: helping the coven and keeping that Supreme from running this dignified group into the mud.” Royce did not resist the eye roll or groan at his words, though the latter could have been his reaction to slowly easing himself (with the help of that dedicated assistant) into a large tufted arm chair.

Before he could spit out a sardonic reply to his father, another voice lifted above the chatter instead. “So it’s okay for Tripp to take vampire blood to cure what aren’t even that critical of burns, but the second our lives are threatened as repercussion of dark magic you lay down the law and deny the rest of us the chance to survive an untimely demise?” Kathryn Van Doren let out a single cynical laugh, arms crossing tighter over her chest as she set a dark glare on their father. “But of course, he’s the prodigal son, the Van Doren legacy, so of course he can cheat death while the rest of us must accept it if our time comes.”

“Kathy,” Royce admonished, but he was once more cut off by the Van Doren patriarch speaking up.

“Let me make this abundantly clear — absolutely no child of mine shall become an undead leech. We are a proud witch lineage, and I will not live to see any of my children go against what is our natural order. There is a dignity in dying, Kathryn. But the administering of blood to ensure your brother’s speedy recovery is different. It has nothing to do with cheating death, it is a modern form of medicine I would allow for him to use just to return to his real purpose: to help lead the coven. Did you not see how your brother stood up there and spoke reason at the last coven meeting? It’s clear he has an important job to do here. And on that alone, I doubt such a life would be sacrificed in recompense for what that wayward witch did. A Van Doren man, in his prime, won’t be taken down by a measly curse.” JR spoke with such devotion, Royce almost missed how absolutely crazy and off base he was. Almost.

“So my life, mom’s life, Cecile’s life — even your own life, daddy dearest,” she spoke the term of endearment with such venom, her words alone could paralyze, “all of that is fair game, but Tripp gets to defy your archaic rules just because you think he’s, what, more important than anyone else here? Do you even hear how ridiculous you sound?” Kathryn raged, eyes blazing. Royce clocked in almost instantly that this was a fight his unfortunate accident came in the middle of, one that perhaps had been going on since the news broke to the coven. And from how both his younger sister and their father stood, square shoulders and staring one another down, he could see it would not let up anytime soon.

“Would you like something to drink, sir? Perhaps a coffee, or a water?” His assistant murmured to him.

“A whiskey would be great, actually.” She gave him a look and Royce sighed, “Oolong, please. I’m afraid a commotion is about to happen, so make it quick and find cover.” His blue eyes scanned the four family members caught in a tense standstill before him, searching their minds for what he could glean.

Kathy was afraid to die, she was too young. She had potential, a whole life ahead of her, she could be so much more than this, and father’s refusal to accept this desire to save her own skin burned her deep in her stomach. Cecile, ever the good little girl, didn’t want to fight father, but she ached deep down. Half terrified in what could become of the recent dark magic usage, half wanting to so confidently and ignorantly believe their father when he said things would be okay, no matter the outcome. And Blythe, who perhaps in that moment just wanted any excuse to be away from JR for a bit. Maybe death could be the perfect vacation. Did they have country clubs and pool boys in heaven, she wondered.

Then there was the illustrious patriarch, looking smart and refined in his blue linen suit and pale lemon dress shirt, a navy and yellow pocket square peeking out of his jacket’s breast pocket. His craggy face was stern, an impassive stone face that was unwilling to bend to the dark gaze coming from the petite blonde across the room. His mind was unreadable even to the telepath, ever skillfully closed off from his son unless he wanted Royce to read him. Those times when he let his dark gaze and mind fill with such powerful disappointment so as to upset Royce should he dare explore his head. But that wasn’t now. Instead he was clear and focused solely on staring, unblinkingly, back at Kathryn.

Royce sighed irritably. “Dear god, Kathy, you’re an adult — if you want to take vampire blood, just go and take it,” he waved a hand dismissively at his younger sister. “And you—” He pointed a bandaged hand at his father, standing stupidly tall in his room of all places, stirring up family drama, and when Royce had a raging headache, “—give up that silly damn notion of coven leadership. I’m not the Supreme, Poppy is, and, in case you haven’t noticed this, attack wasn’t aimed at me. In fact, it was clearly a mistake. So instead of slightly our dear leader, maybe think about the fact that an assassination attempt was clearly made towards her.”

“And yet here you are, the one broken because of it,” JR spat back.

Royce gave his father a crooked smile, “They can’t kill me that easily, pops.” He let his head lull back so as to get a clear look at Kathryn. Her mind was still simmering in rage, though her anger seemed angled at him now. Of course you’d think that, you’re the special little boy who can do whatever he wants, her mind said to him and he frowned. “That is an unfair assessment, but may I remind you it’s the 21st century. He doesn’t own you.”

Kathy just scoffed, dropping her arms to her sides. “He won’t let us.”

“You mean he’ll disown you if you do, and you’re woefully unprepared for the real world. Oh, sad, sorry, little you, Kathryn Isabelle Van Doren.” He didn’t mean to be so cruel, but dammit — wasn’t he the one with the burns all over his body? And where the hell was his oolong?

JR crossed his arms tight over his broad chest, nodding. “And he’s right — if any of you take vampire blood to escape death, I will disown you, and you’ll leave Verdant Vale immediately. If you want to be a vampire so bad, then you can go do that and be the clan’s problem. Save me a dime.”

Kathryn let out an undignified cry before storming off, blubbering a “you hypocrite,” under her breath. Blythe threw her hands in the air as the youngest Van Doren dashed past her. “Oh, excellent, that’s just wonderful, JR — she’s supposed to help me pick out the floral centerpieces for the Garden Party today! Now she won’t want to be helpful at all! Come on, Cecile, help me calm your sister down…”

Cecile gave her brother a half smile before carefully placing the potted plant down on the table beside his bed, dutifully following their mother out. “Maybe a visit to the country club, and a game of doubles at the court, will calm her? We can ask that cute instructor to play with us!” He heard Cecile’s voice echoing down the hall as the women retreated, leaving the Van Doren men to quietly stare at each other.

“Bravo, big man, you really are a testament to fatherhood, you know that?” Royce said with a cruel curl of his lip, turning the cane around in his hand as he leaned back into the velvety chair. “Can’t you see they’re terrified? Don’t need telepathy to see it. No ‘natural order’ talk can soothe the absolute all consuming fear an unexpected death can bring to a woman in her twenties. Have some compassion.”

JR scoffed, occupying himself with brushing his fingers over the spines of books on a nearby bookcase, barely glancing back at his son from steel colored eyes. “The Ancestors must be second guessing everything, after this last, what, year and some change dealing with this Catalyst? Then Silas Chamberlain…” He tutted under his breath before fully facing his son. “I’ve told you since you were a boy that you were meant for so much more than you could imagine. Seeing you up there, addressing the coven with such professionalism and grace… I’ve never been more proud of you, Tripp.” Royce’s eyes dropped at the affectionate nickname, one only his closest confidents called him.

“You mean you’ve never been proud of me at all before then,” he said lowly, digging the cane into the plush carpet beneath his feet. “It doesn’t matter — I’m not the Supreme, and I don’t want to be. Poppy’s good, she can handle all of this, she’s made to handle all of this, you’ll see. And maybe I can’t, maybe I’m not built to fight. What you’re so enthused about is my ability to memorize fancy words from a thesaurus and spin in into something not half bad.”

JR was quiet for a breath of a moment. “Someday, Tripp, you’re going to see yourself the way I do and then you’ll understand how much potential you’re letting go to waste. You’re a whole lot braver than you think.” He crossed the space between them, carefully laying a heavy hand over his son’s shoulder. “Get some rest, you need to preserve your strength for when it matters.” He paused before adding, “…Such as for that Garden Party your mother won’t let go off. We have that pickle ball tournament with Monty and your cousin Dashiell, and I’m not letting them take the title this year.” He shook Royce, perhaps too roughly before sweeping out of the room.

And finally, the Van Dorens left Royce to a calming silence. “My God, they’re idiots. The whole lot of them.”

Vrrb. Vrrb.

Just as he relaxed into the chair’s cushy back, Royce felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket. He had every right to ignore it, but he carefully pulled the offending device out of his pocket and brought it to his face. “So help me, if that’s the gallery…” His threats trailed off on his tongue as he saw the Caller ID. Am I seeing things? He swallowed thickly before tentatively answering the call. Holding the phone there for a brief moment, Royce sucked in a sharp breath before bringing the phone to his ear. “Well, well… isn’t this a surprise,” he said in his usual charming tone.

“…a pleasant one, I hope.” The voice that came on the other line was just as he remembered — low, sultry and slow. He could imagine the smoke of a cigarette curling around the vowels as she spoke.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “I guess that depends on you. Is this a pleasurable call? It has been a moment, though I suppose that time difference may play into it.” If not the divorce.

She was silent on the other end and he imagined her taking a drag from a cigarette while sitting in the corner table at that old pub she adored so much. The one they used to frequent, their special little haunt. Maybe that was off, he doubted she was anywhere near campus nowadays.

“You didn’t change your emergency contact. I got a voicemail yesterday saying you were in an accident? I always knew you drove too fast for your own good.”

Royce frowned, slumping in his chair. So that’s why she called — maybe as a courtesy but certainly as a warning. Get rid of my phone number. That’s what she wanted him to do. He ran his hand weakly through his mussed hair. “Is that so? Well, I think we did vow in sickness and in health, right? Till death do us part?”

“I think we chose to abolish that, unless I’m not recalling the last two years properly.” He heard the exhale of smoke and thought he could smell it through the receiver. “Do start wearing a seatbelt, darling.”

“Yeah, yeah, seatbelt, I heard you.” Royce didn’t have the heart to correct her, letting her believe it was a car accident instead of arson. “Two years and you still worry about me, huh?”

She didn’t reply, and Royce grew uncomfortable in the silence. “So is this an excuse to hear my voice, or something?” He wasn’t sure what he was trying, but the sigh that came from the other end of the line certainly wasn’t what he hoped for.

“J… Royce,” he frowned involuntarily at her correcting herself. For a second there, Royce thought the name, the one that only she called him, was about to come out. It would have been a sign, for something he didn’t realize he’d been hoping for these past two years. But it wasn’t a social call, and it wasn’t meant to last long. “I’m sorry you got hurt, it’s not what I wanted to hear, but I also didn’t want to hear anything at all,” she continued and he stayed silent as he listened. “This isn’t healthy, and I shouldn’t have even called, but listen, do me — no, do both of us a favor.”

“What’s that?” He said as he swallowed thickly, pressing his hand over his face and slightly muffling his words.

“Change your emergency contact… And lose this number, already.”

He let out a humorless chuckle as the weight of the words dawned on him, squeezing his eyes shut as he caught his breath. “Damn… Message received,” he muttered. “Nice hearing from you.”

She was silent for a short moment before saying, softer now, “Get well soon. Goodbye, Darling.” And the line cut before Royce could say anything more.

Pulling back and staring at his phone, Royce looked at the call history and her name now at the very top of it. His hand shook as emotions long since buried began to bubble up to the surface. As though those protective layers he’d grown over them had been burned away in that fire, no longer effective armor against the onslaught of hurt and turmoil just hearing her voice caused him. He swallowed and found that the lump in his throat was too strong to bypass. Curses. Damn this woman for coming back so easily into his orbit and then speeding away. And all to tell him to wear a seatbelt and lose her number… he hated it. He hated her for it.

He was so deep in thought, he missed the click of heels as his assistant rounded the corridor and found herself at his bedroom door again. “Mr. Van Doren, I apologize for the delay, we didn’t have oolong but I sent off for it. I did find a Moroccan Mint Tea inst—” her words were drowned out by a loud crash and crack as a smart phone collided with the wall on the far side of the room, glass screen shattering and pixels going dead as it fell uselessly to the ground. A dent and a crack left a remembrance of the sudden attack on the wall, and Royce’s gaze traced it as he let out a ragged breath. “S-sir?” The assistant sputtered and he turned his gaze towards her.

“…Oh, mint tea is just fine,” he said so casually, calmly, as though he hadn’t just chucked his phone across the room. He held his hand out, waiting for her to shakily deposit the cup into his grasp. Taking a slow sip, Royce’s eyes flickered up back at the assistant, clearly taken back by his actions. “Mm, yes, perfect, thank you. You can go now, but do me a favor and stop by the store and get me a new phone, won’t you? Put it on good ol’ dad’s card, too.” He waved her off before silently turning his gaze out towards the adjoining balcony, silently stewing and forever grateful to be the only telepath at Verdant Vale Hall.

#&& self paras.#I was supposed to post this when the plot drop happened forever ago so Ssh let’s pretend #burn tw #death tw #sexism tw #smoking tw #injury tw #trying to catch it all but idk if I did #don’t be shy and tell me if I missed anything!

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soundcrusher · 1 year

Text

Of research and programming

Part five of my little story featuring @cuppajj's IDW version of Lord Imperious and my boy Quick Search is out! (And should something be off, please let me know. :3)

With that being said, enjoy!

Trigger warning: none? yea, I think there are none

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Work.

If something in his life was slowly falling apart, Quick Search loved to throw himself into his work. It was calming in a way the little terminal could never describe.

Doing his work felt right, as if he was made, maybe even constructed to do it, while also helping him sort out his own thoughts. And Primus knows how scrambled they became, after discovering the death of the little medical drone, the talk he had with Imperious and the realisation that something was wrong with him. It was a wonder that he hasn’t collapsed from an overworked processor yet.

So, work it is, and Quick Search sure enough had a lot of work to do. After all, files don’t sort themselves out and research papers aren’t written by ghosts. Granted, he wasn’t a researcher, he was only there to keep the research preserved, but that doesn’t mean he can’t write little summaries for when his captain and crew return. They would find his little attempts useful, right? Or maybe writing and compiling their research was for nothing after all. His captain always hated it when he worked “beyond his programming”, but then again, Imperious said that he didn’t have to limit himself to what he was intended to do. He could do more than he was supposed to, and with how things were going, Quick Search must admit that he trusts Imperious more than his captain.

His new friend was, after all, not treating him wrongly. Not like most of his past crew and, sadly, his captain did. Quick Search still doesn’t know what he did wrong. Looking back at how his crew treated him, with all the kicks when he wasn’t working like they wanted him to, the harsh comments about him being nothing but a “tamed beast”, or how a selected few of them would look at him with disgust and anger, it made him question if he ever truly was part of the crew. And that in return made him wonder if his loyalty towards them and his captain was even right. But then again, the second he starts questioning things, his head hurts. So, he tries to keep away from those thoughts, despite them lingering in his subconsciousness like a ghost.

Either way, back to work and sorting out the written reports and pictures taken of a planet they visited when it was still untouched by sentient life, or at least the definition of sentient life his captain used. It wasn’t uncommon for his captain to be a little biassed when it came to what was life and what wasn’t. If he could decide, Quick Search was sure his captain would only count Cybertronians as ‘truly sentient’, or something like that.

To be honest, Quick Search disliked thinking about that. So, he quickly chased the thought away, before looking back at his work. Compiling everything about the planet in a nice little report, before creating a new file and moving everything he had in there. Finishing it up by giving the file a name, before saving it in his database and not the ships. After all, unfinished and top secret research is not safe when stored in the ship’s database.

Although, maybe Quick Search was a little bit too concentrated while working, because he hardly noticed someone was entering the ship, followed by the bridge. Only when he saw the outline of a shadow hovering above him, did Quick Search react by jumping and wiping around. All the monitors on the bridge went black, as he tried to make out if he was in danger or not, but when he saw it was just Imperious, the small mech let out a sigh of relief.

“You know… knocking would be nice.” Quick Search chuckled, before turning back around. Optics fixated on the big screen before him as it, together with all the others on the bridge, lit up again. Each one displayed different files, while Quick Search started to work on quickly sorting out the information of another planet. Never breaking concentration, not even as Imperious started to walk around the bridge. Or when the taller one would stop in front of a monitor. Hands braced on the console and claws tapping away on it, before Quick Search made the information disappear and Imperious would walk on to the next screen.

A few months back, Quick Search wouldn’t have worked so openly in front of anyone. Not when it involved information stored on his own database, but ever since Imperious helped him figure out how to better store his information, he’s been doing just that. Connecting to the ship by using the connection cable and his own to better use the monitors. It was easier to see everything displayed, instead of having to sort through things inside his mind. And having someone who understood what he was doing and could offer some advice or point out things he overlooked really helped him.

Sometimes though, it made him nervous. This was his database after all, there were some things he didn’t want anyone to see. Especially his captain! If he found out that Quick Search was saving things his captain deemed as ‘useless’, he sure enough would make him delete them! And that’s something he never wanted to happen, because collecting his little secret was hard work. Being forced to lose it again would break him.

“Hm… I can’t recall ever seeing this, Quick Search.” At the mention of his name, Quick Search looked away from his work and over to where Imperious was. Although, he was quick to abandon his post and walk over to his friend, as soon as he saw what Imperious was looking at.

“Th-that’s because….ehm… That’s m-mine…” Muttered the cybertronian quietly, as he looked down in embarrassment. “It’s a small collection I started. N-nothing special… r-really… I must have forgotten to put it back, or something. It’s just… my little secret…”

“Yours? As in, not even your captain knows that you’re having a little secret?” Asked Imperious, before tapping at the screen with one claw. Fixing the small cybertronian with a look that made Quick Search squirm, because for one second it wasn’t Imperious standing there, but his captain. Fixing him with a stare filled with disgust and disappointed at discovering his first collection. But with a shake of his head, the memory was gone.

His captain wasn’t here and couldn’t take his collection. And even if he got the order to delete his secret, Quick Search wouldn’t. He was allowed to be a little selfish. So, he made his keyboard detach from his back and get in place in front of him. Typing in a small command, before opening the file and showing Imperious his little secret.

“Music… Your little secret is music?” Quick Search nodded, refusing to meet Imperious’ eyes. “I… I’m not supposed to have anything of my own. My captain always made sure to tell me so. After all, a computer doesn’t need anything, but then… one of the drones helping the researchers with their recordings brought back sound samples. But they were different from the usual ones. They had rhythm, melodic words, and I liked that. So, I started a small collection!” With each word, Quick Search got more and more excited about his little secret. Opening files and showing Imperious just how vast his collection of music was. “And with each planet we visited, my collection only grew! Now I have music from all over the galaxy! Although… some of my collection is lost. My captain… he made me delete my first one as soon as he found out…”

Imperious looked at the Cybertronian next to him. Observing how ‘his friend’ would flinch whenever he mentioned his captain, or how his cat-like finals would flatten against his head, as soon as his mood dropped from excited to sad. “And that’s why you keep it a secret. But your captain isn’t here, he can’t make you delete anything, Quick Search.” He said, before looking back at the screen. “Some of those planets aren’t saved in the ship's database. Is there a reason as to why I can’t access their reports?”

“W-well… The ship’s database only holds finished reports and research from planets, after our captain looked over everything. He’s very… ehm… picky with what he wants to have safed and handed over to the research facilities and such.” Quick Search shrugged before pulling up the ship’s database on the monitor next to the one displaying his database. Showing Imperious the comparison between both, before pointing out some missing parts in reports the captain already approved. “Usually, when the report is approved, I should delete the information. Protocol demands it, but my captain said that it would be a waste of time and effort if we got rid of it. So, I’m storing and filing every last bit of research, information and such, while the ship has the censored versions.”

Imperious nodded. From what he could see in the ship’s digital library, when he did a little ‘research’ of his own, many reports were clearly tampered with. “I see, this also explains why some of the information I found doesn’t make sense. Also, your captain is terrible at censoring. Some of the reports I read are very contradicting, and are clearly missing some major information needed to understand certain cultural aspects of the planet.” He said, before quickly adding, “Not to sound disrespectful.”, even though he held no respect for Cybertronians, especially one as stupid as Quick Search’s captain.

“None taken. If I’m being honest, I don’t like the corrections the captain makes either. They’re too… I don’t know… They’re untrue. I mean, I already know that my captain is very biassed towards anyone that isn’t Cybertronian, but that bias shouldn’t be put into a scientific report or paper talking about the inhabitants and culture of an unexplored planet. It’s not right!” Quick Search stomped his foot in anger, before hissing and holding his head as he got another headache. “S-sorry… shouldn’t be talking… talking badly…”

“You have a right to speak your mind, Quick Search. You shouldn’t be apologising for that.” Those headaches were becoming a hindrance to Imperious’ plan. Despite Quick Search slowly losing the trust in his captain, it seemed like those headaches always made him turn around. A fail safe, or at least it seemed like it was one from what he could observe. And it seemed like the other one also noticed, if the way Quick Search would work around it was any indicator.

But still, Imperious had to come up with a plan, if he doesn’t want to lose his process. “Say, Quick Search, did you ever want to do something against your headaches? They seem to be-”

“They’re not normal, I know.” This was surprising. Seems like the small terminal was self-aware, or at least started to question why he would get them. “I mean… how normal is it to get a headache, just because you’re questioning your superior. My crew often did that, but never once did they get a headache. It was always me.” Imperious watched Quick Search’s expression shift from anger to resignation.

“What if I could help you?” Asked Imperious. Putting enough fake sincerity into his words, to hopefully sway Quick Search into agreeing to let him help. But from what he could see, his ‘friend’ wasn’t so sure about his proposal. “Maybe it is something like a virus, or a program that’s been affecting you. You Cybertronians can ‘catch’ a virus, can’t you? And with you having been stuck on this ship for a long time, who can say how great the damage is.” With each word, Imperious could see how Quick Search started to consider his offer. But he still needed a little push. “Just think about all the research you have in your database. If it is a virus, or something else that’s affecting you, who knows what it could do to it. Maybe it would even delete everything.”

“But… you would need a level four clearance to even access everything and an extra permission from me…” Muttered Quick Search quietly, to which Imperious only shook his head. As if those restrictions could stop him. Not when he’s been sneaking around and tampering with the ship and its security system for quite some time now. Of course, only when Quick Search was deeply in recharge or when he ‘helped’ him with it. Warm Energon mixed with Cybertronian Lavender sure enough could knock someone of Quick Search’s size out in no-time.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Going from level three to level four shouldn’t be hard, and considering that we have known each other quite for some time now and are friends, it shouldn’t be hard for you to give me that little extra permission. Am I right, Quick Search?”

“Of course you’re right, but… A raise in security clearance still needs to be discussed with the captain and… wait… I never made you a level three… You shouldn’t even have a security clearance!” Damn it, looks like Imperious jumped the gun and shot off too quick, as humans would say it. Ah, but why should he worry? Quick Search might be experienced with writing small summaries, but Imperious was still better in using words to his advantage. And with a small gesture of his hand, he simply started to weave a net of lies. One that was convincing enough to get Quick Search to not only question himself, but also his memory.

“Oh, it seems like your memory is acting up. Can’t you remember, Quick Search? You gave me level three clearance a long time ago. And I believe I can even remember when it happened too.” Said Imperious, as he fixed the cybertronian with a look that showed concern on the outside, but inside, the Second-Born Intellect was laughing at Quick Search’s gullibility. “Remember when you were too exhausted to do any work around here? You asked me to take care of everything, while you took some time off to rest. And when I told you that I sadly could not, you gave me the needed clearance.”

“I… my memory has been lacking for some time now…” Muttered Quick Search quietly to himself, before looking up at Imperious. “I guess you’re telling the truth. You have the clearance, and how else should you get it, if not from me?” Hacking, but Quick Search didn’t know that. “… Appeal for Security Clearance four received and granted. We’ll have to change locations if you really want to help me. The bridge isn’t really suited to perform something like a processor scan or reprogramming…”

“Then by all means Quick Search, lead the way.”

#transformers #fanfic #cuppajj #transformers oc #quick search #imperious delirious #this is cuppajj's version of lid #heh; next part is going to be a whoozy #quick's finally going to get an answer to his message #but he won't be the one to accept the call ;3

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mimi-kun · 2 years

Text

A WISH GRANTED ||chapter four||

Previous part⬇️

"you look..."

"different? Haha I'm Aether today Now let's go to that event!"

It's his first time stepping outside the house..so everything feels foreign to him.

He saw how peaceful you look like. That smile of yours, he never wanted that to fade away so as long as he's here... he'll do anything to preserve your happiness.

A Fool

He is not that excited about this event you've been talking about for days but he likes seeing how happy you are when you finally met with your other friends or when someone will take a picture with you or to the both of you.

To be honest, he doesn't like people being too friendly with him. You had said earlier before to control himself and to not be rude to other people.

It's confusing him because usually he doesn't take others' orders but it's you, what have you done to him for the past few days he's been in your care...?

This is new to him and this feeling is not a good feeling for him..

.......

"that wasn't so bad was it?"

You happily said while sitting somewhere to rest a bit.

"it's terrible"

"I know you enjoyed people asking you to step on them"

You smirked.

"that's my hobby if you don't know"

"ah yes..the scaramouche we know~ I still like you though"

That smile again...that smile that makes his stomach feel like there are butterflies flying inside. Your smile is like a curse on him...he dislikes you for that.

Of course that's not true...

"we should go home now, it's getting late"

.....

"My friends are asking me where I found a boyfriend that very much looks like Scaramouche, they're so funny we're not even a couple at all"

"we're not fitted to be a couple"

"I'm starting to think that you're an aromantic scaramouche~"

'who am I kidding...he will never have an interest on me'

"what even is that word?"

"nevermind that! Goodnight for now"

.......

As always, scaramouche prepared the breakfast and he was about to knock on your room but it was left open...?

He went inside and you weren't there.

Did you say something yesterday that you'll be going out or something? He's sure you didn't say anything.

Did you also...abandoned him?

You wouldn't do that...would you?

He called for your name but there was no answer.

He searched your room but still nothing.

His room? Also nothing.

Perhaps...your mom's room?

And there he saw, your fragile figure sleeping on the floor while holding that seems to be a picture of your mother.

He knelt down beside you..

'tears stains?'

"I thought you'd abandon me too..."

"but I knew you wouldn't do that, you love me too much"

He won't deny that. That you love him.

A person like him...loved by you?

"Scara...? Oh-"

"so embarrassing....you had to see me like this"

Immediately, he stood up.

"the food's getting cold, get up"

......

Later that evening,

A knock was heard from scaramouche's door.

"Do you miss being there?"

He did not expect that question- or even thought about that...

It was quiet for a minute. He didn't wanna upset you with his answer so he thought much about it.

And finally he has an answer;

"I'll be honest. I miss my life there, my high status and everything that can make me feel worth something...but it made me realize that having a high status or any of that doesn't really make me worth something, but here... "

He paused as he looked at you directly.

"I feel like a normal human being here, in your world- here in your house. I can finally say that I'm home..."

You stood there, at his room's doorstep unmoving- frozen.

"I-"

You wanted to say something but it's like something is stuck and you can't seem to let out the words.

Scaramouche kept his gaze at you waiting for your response. Something- anything to keep his embarrassment hidden.

"Is that a confession...?"

You smiled widely, sitting beside him on the bed.

"sometimes I even question myself how I can keep up with you and your annoying attitude (y/n)"

"yeah.."

He stares at your laying figure...god you look so ethereal.

"I wish nothing more but to stay here with you forever scaramouche..."

A small blush crept upon his cheeks still staring at you but you were fast asleep already.

It wouldn't hurt for you to sleep with him for one night right?

Taglist: [open]

@eimuros

#genshin impact #genshin au #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche #scara x reader #scara x y/n #genshin fanfic

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the-himawari · 2 years

Text

A3! Troupe Event Translation - Sunny Blanc (8/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: It��s breathtaking~.

Homare: A magnificent view, indeed.

Azuma: It’s great they’re in full bloom right now.

Tsumugi: Yes. This is the place, alright… It hasn’t changed at all since back then.

Hisoka: …You’ve been here before?

Tsumugi: I came here with my grandma when I was a child. And I wanted to visit this place one more time to take pictures of the peonies.

Hisoka: The flowers I saw before were spring peonies. But the ones this time of the year are winter peonies called tree peonies.

Tasuku: I’m glad you were able to remember.

Tsumugi: Yeah. Hisoka-kun, it seems you have some special memories attached to these flowers. But these peonies were close to my heart too. …I totally forgot about them until recently though.

Hisoka: …Really? That has happened to you too?

Homare: Perhaps it would be wise to take some pictures before you forget.

Tsumugi: Oh, right.

*click*

Tsumugi: There we go.

Tasuku: Are you sure they’re not blurry?

Tsumugi: They’re alright… I think. How do they look to you?

Tasuku: I’ll give them a pass. Should I take the pictures?

Tsumugi: No, it’s okay. It’s meaningful for me to take them by myself today, so this is fine.

Azuma: Is anything coming back to you, Hisoka?

Hisoka: …No. But recently, whenever I’ve recalled the past, there was always a scent that served as a trigger… … (There’s a faint fragrance… so these are peonies…)

*flashback starts*

Hisoka: (There’s so many flowers on display… Is this a flower shop…?)

Clerk: Up we go—.

Hisoka: Ah… (One of them fell… I wonder if I should pick it up…) (I might get told off again if I touch it… But it’ll wither and get trampled on if it’s left there…) Excuse me… this one fell.

Clerk: Hm? Ahh, you’re right. Thank you. What a kind child you are.

Hisoka: … (Thank God. They didn’t get mad at me…)

Clerk: Ah, yes. Please wait a moment.

Hisoka: ?

Clerk: Here you go. This is a present as a thank you for your thoughtfulness. You can call it a paeonia. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

Hisoka: (Flowers aren’t edible, so I’m not interested… Yet…) …I think it’s pretty. (It’s pointless to receive something I can’t eat… But, it’s strange. I feel so happy, I’m about to cry…)

*flashback ends*

Hisoka: …

Izumi: Are you okay, Hisoka-san?

Tasuku: Wouldn’t it be better for him to rest on that bench over there?

Guy: Shall we carry him?

Hisoka: …No, I’m alright. …I remembered. A memory of peonies. …When I was little, the very first flower someone gave me was a peony. I never thought that I would receive a flower, so I pretended I wasn’t interested when they handed it to me… To me, that was one of my most precious memories that I never wanted to forget… So why in the world did that happen?

Tsumugi: Sometimes, even I forget times that were happy. I only recently remembered that Flower Park was the place I visited with my grandma. You’re not the only one, Hisoka-kun. We’re only human, so it’s natural to forget both good times and bad.

Tausku: I barely remember my childhood either. That’s the way it is.

Guy: Just like you, Mikage, I am sure there are still things from my past that still lay forgotten. I understand how you feel.

Azuma: Human memories are fickle things, aren’t they? You can’t recall them clearly forever. I have had times when I’ve felt lonesome about forgetting too.

Homare: That is why I think they can be preserved by reminiscing from time to time on how things were in the past.

Izumi: Even if, let’s say, you do forget, then I’m sure all of your memories are just sleeping inside of you Hisoka-kun. Just like how August-san certainly existed, the time we’ve spent together will never disappear. Besides, right now, you have loved ones you can share all your memories with. That’s why there’s no need to be afraid.

Hisoka: I see… (…I’m not alone now. Even if I do forget, I’m sure that someone—everyone will remember…)

Tsumugi: I also felt a little taken aback when my grandma forgot that we came here before. Earlier, I said that it’s natural to forget things since we’re only human. But that was self-serving of me, wasn’t it…

Hisoka: …That’s proof that you care about your grandma, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: I appreciate it, Hisoka-kun. The reason I was able to recall my memories of Flower Park was because of a souvenir bookmark I gave to Tasuku. When I laid eyes on that bookmark, this exact view came back to my mind. It would be best to preserve your precious memories in a tangible form so you won’t forget them, wouldn’t it?

Azuma: Make the memories you don’t want to forget, tangible… that’s a wonderful idea.

Homare: Then let us preserve today in a tangible form as a reminder. Hisoka-kun, you’re in the charge of the camera.

Hisoka: Why…

Homare: I wish to capture this moment right now on film.

Hisoka: …What a pain. You can do it yourself.

Homare: You won’t budge, will you? I ask you then, Guy-san.

Guy: I do not mind.

Hisoka: …Ah, I’ve decided what I want to do for our next play.

Homare: Right now!? I was going to record a VLOG.

Izumi: What do you have in mind?

Hisoka: I want to use flowers.

Guy: Flowers? That is certainly a motif we have not done before.

Izumi: That sounds great. If it’s Winter troupe, then I’m sure the play will end up having a different vibe from Summer troupe’s “Prince in Full Bloom”. “Actors are flowers”, after all.

Homare: I think that theme is perfect for Hisoka-kun to show his family what a fine actor he’s become.

Hisoka: …Also, I have a request for Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: A request?

Hisoka: …But I feel kind of tired from reminiscing about the past. I’m sleepy.

Tasuku: Hey, don’t just fall asleep. And he’s out like a light like always.

*dream starts*

*blink, blink*

Hisoka: …Huh?

*blink, blink*

Hisoka: (It’s the market I used wander around all time when I was young… But the one here is present me.) … (And the kid in front of me… is me when I was young.)

Young Hisoka: …Who are you?

Hisoka: …You don’t need to know, trust me.

Young Hisoka: …Hmm.

Hisoka: …Are you lonely by yourself?

Young Hisoka: Not really…

Hisoka: …I’ll give this to you.

Young Hisoka: …What’s this?

Hisoka: …A paeonia. I was overjoyed when I got one of these in the past.

Young Hisoka: Why are you giving one to me…?

Hisoka: …I thought it’d be nice if I could cheer you up with this flower.

Young Hisoka: …

Hisoka: …It’s going to be alright. Your time alone will come to an end, I know it. (And after that, so many precious memories are waiting for you.) So, for now, keep living…

---

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