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viennakarma · 10 months ago

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My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong.

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies.

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone.

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…”

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

TAG LIST: @loopnotloopythough @thegooglyeyedpumkin @fordlita @dudenhaaa27 @clockworkballerina @coffee-lover21 @inejismywife @dckgzz @multiplemando @thatsusbitch @hrts4scarr @mame-mp4 @heyheyheyggg @sam-f1 @shocolattesblog @sunnytkm23 @cmleitora @beskardroids @90intherain @clomo12345 @fall-bambi @emmdreams @booksandflowrs @iwmtfm @haloxmendes @yupnomeh @sittingalonereads @julesbog @luckyladycreator2 @c-losur3 @alliwantisadonut @velocesainz @adalynneva @croissantbakerylws @spideybv28 @hrrorflm @kimialaia @s4turnsl0ver @redfives @starksztony @bluechamp @astrostar24 @offbrand-slasher @splaterparty0-0 @foolforfer @madnesstaking0ver @sarahedwards16

@carlanno @enaticosencantados @too-many0-0fandoms @tatcutie @its-avalon-08 @mina-2056 @small-mean-dwarf @ironmaiden1313 @myhomeworksnotdone @albeelins @thesauronripper666 @teenwolf9-1-1lover @kat-s2 @freetimemachinequeen @mynicosensesaretingling @losore-prone @mrsmelinda @thatonesblog @strollnstroll @sadieurlady @chuxk-lerclerk @johnsmith1437386326263 @happylittlereader @formulanando @roguesourwolf @minkyungseokie @vampsarereal @kihc-zya @hjbbyyy @aloapple19 @users09 @feelslikealbon @smellybreath46 @a-disturbing-self-reflection @hereforfanficsnothingelse @kimialaia @danielricciardotr

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 #fernando alonso #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #brocedes #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfiction

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pupyuj · 8 months ago

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the other nonie request…

now i miss big dick wony too :(

i need to be manhandle by her

remember this monumental day in diveland??? YEAH... WE FORGOT ABOUT THIS TOO QUICKLY, LET'S BRING IT BACK!!

rich bossy wony who likes to toy with you—her witty, annoying roommate who has quite the reputation as jang wonyoung’s personal… COMO SE DICE… pet! 🤭🤭 no literally bcs she could force you to wear a collar with her initials dangling in the middle for a day and you wouldn’t have a choice but to do it bcs she makes up for it with mind-blowing sex anyway 😵‍💫 she’s almost like a sugar mommy?? except that the only things she wants to spoil you with are lingerie and slutty clothes that she wants you to put on solely so she can rip them off of you 😭 and all you need to do to pay all that back is spread your legs and be a good girl for her :33

she does not gaf about you at all unfortunately! the only thing you’re good for in her eyes is sex and you know what, you’re fine with that bcs you also couldn’t care for her grumpy ass even if you tried! and all this animosity leads to a lot of hate sex 😭 like oh you’re not reciprocating her advances bcs you got shit to do?? nuh uh, that’s not allowed! you got home late and thus made wonyoung wait?? unacceptable! she rarely kisses you already and if you mess up it's all bites and stinging words... but you wouldn't say that you didn't like them of course 😋

probably loves it better if you turn out to have long hair bcs wony can just drag you around that away if she can't get you to wear those cute leashes that she spends her hard-earned money on just for you 🫣 nothing satisfies her ears more than hearing you wince or whine in pain whenever she just casually reaches over and pull your hair, sometimes even mockingly commending you for keeping it so healthy just for her 😣 it was definitely one of her main ways of getting her aggression out... other than fucking you senseless of course! she would see you stumbling about in the apartment drunk as hell at two-thirty in the morning and she wouldn't waste any time yelling profanities and degrading things to your face before dragging you to her bedroom by your hair bcs you couldn't keep your wasted ass mouth shut 😣😣

something better than completely tearing your clothes off of you is ruining them.. but still letting you wear them 😝 wonyoung likes the sight of your pretty little cotton candy pink blouse ripped open and missing a few buttons, your tights moderately ruined and your lingerie just barely pulled down to your knees while she has you bent over her bed taking her cock like the obedient living fleshlight that she molded you to be! 🫢 she enjoys it when you scream and moan her name freely in the air, loves it better when you try to move away from her just get some sense of control in the situation but eventually failing and just letting her use you... and sometimes she might even be successful in getting you to work yourself on her cock, sitting back and watching as you thrust yourself backwards into her..

AND THE MANHANDLING SO TRUEEEE wony might not look like it but she's freakishly strong 😭 most of the time when you're fucking, she really just does everything! even when she puts you in a position where you'd be on top, like cowgirl, she'd be holding your hips tightly and controlling your pace,, watching you fall apart above her brings her more pleasure than shooting her load inside your womb sometimes!

literally pretends that you don't exist on campus but as soon as she closes the door of your apartment she sticks to your side the entire day and you would see it as a thing if she wasn't constantly humiliating you in your ear and leaving reckless marks all over your body while making you cum all fucking night! wonyoung doesn't ever want to admit it but she's so fucking obsessed with you in the most disrespectful way possible 🤭

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astheskycries · 17 days ago

Text

Twisted Games- Meetings

Growing up with a hitman for a father, Andy Barber has never wanted to go near the mafia and used the money from the family to go to law school. When Steve Rogers offered him help after a hit on his family, he was more than happy to ensure no more unnecessary hits were made. As long as everyone is at arms’ length, he can keep them safe.

I want to take the time to give a MASSIVE shout out to @stargazingfangirl18 , who not only read this over for me but also has listened to me ramble and brainstorm over this AU and gave me amazing advice. This series wouldn't exist without her ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! If your name is not tagged it means I physically can't tag you, but I will be redoing my Tags soon so please keep an eye out for that!

Masterlist Buy Me a Coffee

The sun sparkles over the water of the Harbor, starting to set over the horizon as I review the documents for the umpteenth time. Though the hours are long, it’s been well worth the investment. Taking out money from a waitressing job was a huge risk, especially for someone who can’t afford college or a car that ran without being patchworked together, but somehow I turned a small business worked in the little time between jobs into a booming construction company, expanding into design and even buying out several companies in the greater Boston area.

“Ma’am? Your appointment is here.”

Speaking of.

I relax back a bit as I watch the lawyer slip inside, my assistant nodding once before shutting the door behind her. In other circumstances he would be a welcome distraction- short but soft brown hair styled up, a full beard with just the slight hints of grey, and the most beautiful baby blues I’ve ever seen. Tall and well-built, it’s no wonder Andy Barber has the reputation he does.

“Good Afternoon,” He greets smoothly, relaxing in his chair as he grabs his file folder. “I’m assuming you’ve reviewed everything?”

“Of course,” I lock the computer and move to my own paper copy, lazily opening it with a finger. “You’re nothing if not thorough, Mr. Barber.”

He hums, a slight smirk on his lips. “Well, it’s part of the job. Mr. Rogers wanted to make sure everything was covered.”

Yes. That.

“I saw that,” I flip through to a specific section, humming once. “Unfortunately, I’m still not interested in selling.”

Mr. Barber raises an eyebrow, watching me carefully. “Mr. Rogers has offered an unusually high payout for this company. If it’s stability you’re concerned about, he’s clearly stated money is no object.”

“It’s no object for me either, the answer is no.” I let the file close with a little smack, relaxing against my chair. “Will that be all?”

Mr. Barber shifts to lean closer, toying with a pen. “On a personal level, I think you may want to reconsider. Mr. Rogers has hired me for all of his business dealings; I know how he works. He’ll wait as long as it takes to acquire the company.”

I mirror his movements, leaning closer and crossing my hands on the desk. “I’ve done my own research, Mr. Barber. I’m fully confident that I will not be signing any deal that hands my company over to him.”

He makes a noise, putting away the file and slowly rising to his feet. “I’ll inform Mr. Rogers of your response. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again shortly.”

I hum, watching him until the door shuts before sagging against the chair with a breath, glancing over at the clock and seeing how late it is. I turn to look out at the skyline again, biting my lips as I let my mind wander.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow we can plan for the next one.

…

“I assume it didn’t go as planned?” Steve muses, pouring a glass of bourbon as he watches Andy pace the floor of his private office. Though the leader of the group, the blonde looks innocent, almost angelic with his bright blue eyes and clean shaven appearance. He's a walking Greek god, a perfect covering for the horns holding up the halo.

“She turned the offer down. Again.” Andy fumes loosening his tie as he continues to pace, flipping through the file for the hundredth time.

“Is this the third time? Or second?” Steve leans against his desk, eyebrows raised as he looks over his drink, downing it in one swig.

“Third offer. Second refusal- no one ever refuses your deals.” Andy turns, unamused by Steve’s expression. “I even warned her you wanted to continue negotiations. She said money wasn’t an object and sent me packing.” He sighs, accepting the new glass Steve offers. “I told her I’d let you know and be in touch.”

Steve smirks, hiding it behind another drink. “See if you can find what she wants, come up with an agreement. Take her to one of our best restaurants.” He lets his shoulders relax, taking a moment to observe how ruffled the lawyer is. “I have to admit, this is refreshing.”

“Fuck off,” Andy mutters, finishing the glass. “I’ll get to work tomorrow.”

Steve hums, taking a slow drink. “I mean it. I haven’t seen you this animated in a while.”

Andy hums, rolling the ice in his glass. “I can’t get a read on her. It’s frustrating, you know how long I've worked on our offers being airtight? We’re more than generous when we buy out.”

“Well, it’s good for you. Something different.” Steve takes his friends’ empty glass, setting them aside. “I trust you to handle it. I’m not sparing any expenses, this would give us control over the other side of town. More leverage.”

Andy nods, glancing at his watch. “I’ll make it happen.”

“Andy?” Steve waits for the man to pause and look back, hand still on the handle. “Take her to that high rise restaurant.”

“I’m not taking her on a date.” Andy swiftly leaves, leaving a new voice to laugh from their place lounged on the sofa.

“You’re setting up the hard ass?” Lloyd muses, smirking over his drink as his rings gently tap against the glass. His loafers are shining in the light as he crosses his ankles, thick mustache doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You really think this is a good idea?”

Steve hums, moving back to his seat. “You’re complaining?”

“Fuck no.” Lloyd grins, continuing to spin his knife in his fingers, enjoying the way it glints from the lamp light. “Just determines whether I plant those cameras in his office.”

“No.” Steve focuses on his computer. “But send him my black card. I’ll cover his ‘dinner’.”

Tags: @janeyboo @mylittlefandomfanfictions @palaiasaurus64 @averyrogers83 @guera31 @soulmates8 @coffeebooksandfandom @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @pegasusdragontiger @mizzzpink @onetwo3000 @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars @sleepylunarwolf @wheresmyplums @smoothdogsgirl @marvelouslyme96 @esoltis280 @jtargaryen18 @k-evans-writes @rainbowkisses31 @buchanansebba @katiew1973 @patzammit @time-for-a-lullaby @openup-yourmind

Twisted Games: @hangmanscoming

#twisted games #twisted games au #andy #andy barber #andy x reader #andy barber x reader #andy au #andy barber au

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themissingnumbers · 3 months ago

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WARNING: FLASHING/GLITCHING IMAGE UNDER THE CUT. This also contains descriptions of gore and body horror.

[ @pkmn-monochrome - Previously... ]

Red narrows his eyes as he stares down at Cody, shutting up and listening as they explain. The corners of his lips twitch as they finish, the shadow cast over his eyes falling ever so slightly heavier.

"... So, that's how it is, hm?"

"Barely... any different..."

"... Exactly what I..."

"..."

"I've gotta say, you've really got a way with words! You're so articulate when you're scared, Cody."

He snickers to himself, hopping off the grave and pacing around, looking between the other and the Ghosts.

"Observant, too~! You're right, I really couldn't be bothered to care what you think of me. I'm not exactly here to make friends. I'm sure that'd the last thing you'd want, anyways! See, I'm just here to satiate some curiosity."

He leans in front of Blastoise, tilting his head.

"I would like to formally apologize to the oversized Sobble-in-a-shell for my language. I'm not exactly used to being around others... Twenty-six years of imprisonment wouldn't really teach a guy to have a filter, heh."

He waves a hand nonchalantly, completing the circle.

"And as for your marketable figurine of a rat, well... I'm not interested in being a snotty kid forever. Unfortunately, I don't need any hacking done to screw up my game badly enough to change some things around.

But, hey... I'm not here to make chit-chat with a couple of one-note monsters. It's all about you, the most REAL one in this room. Cody, Cody, Cody, star of the show~! Let's get back to the point. I know you don't exactly think highly of... things like me. What was it you told that one poor girl- 'You've had more than a decade to get over yourself,' right?"

He throws his head back, cackling as if the old remark is the funniest thing he's heard in his life.

"I meant it when I said that I don't CARE. But I AM nosy, and your vitriol towards REDs in particular is just so interesting... Even seein' the face clearly strikes a nerve. So honestly, I'd LOVE to hear EXACTLY what you're thinking..."

"If only you were willing to spit out any fighting words, that is! But you've been so much more polite than I expected, after all the reading I've done..."

He passes by in front of the other, looking off into the distance.

In that moment- a moment of passing footsteps, of the blink of an eye, of a lack of care... something heavy fills the air.

A damning presence looks down on Cody with a dozen eyes, countless mouths, gnashing teeth and twitching claws, two hundred and fifty-five whispering voices. It's a disgusting and shambling creature, a sick and unholy patchwork of amalgamated hearts and yellowed blood, wrapped up in tattered flesh and backwards fur, mismatched feathers and scales and blubber and skin. Writhing, wheezing, bleeding, rotting, every misplaced piece existing out of sync.

Something impossible. Unknowable. Invalid.

The feeling it imposes upon them is suffocating. Like not breathing for years, like something vile filling their lungs, a sickness that is rising, thrashing, tearing, desperate for a taste of "fresh meat" if one could even call a dead trainer that anymore.

"It almost seems like there's something you're worried about," the voices from within it hiss, layered countless times under the casual and teasing tone of Red's own that is lost under the madness...

... Yet the instant the words spill from his lips, that awful sensation is gone as quickly as it arrived. Everything is as it should be. Despite how intense it was... It was little more than two seconds of some sick kind of illusion.

Was it even real? Was that pain all false? Red hasn't lifted a finger, no less even looked Cody's way.

It's as if nothing even happened.

"I wonder, I wonder, what it could be~?" the man babbles on as he walks away, feigning ignorance- because he must be, he must be screwing around with them at this point, right? How could he NOT be?

And now he's laughing- giggling to himself under his breath, like this whole ordeal is some joke that only he's in on.

"After all, I'm just some harmless little video game character. I'm not even real, right?" he chides, "Certainly nothing like one of your big bad players who could crush your shoddy little cartridge cause you decided to be a little bi..."

He trails off, managing to catch himself.

"... Decided to misbehave. What, you don't think I hold any real power over this place, do you~? I can't cause..."

"... Permanent damage."

He slows to a stop several paces away from the monochromatic trainer, spinning on his heel to look at them with a smile that could be described as warm, but...

From heart, to flesh, to grin- there's not a single warm thing about this man in this moment. Only proven further by a final remark, laced with a threatening kind of curiosity.

"So would you like to stop trying to play nice and tell me what you really think of me... Or are you gonna let me get bored?"

#missing numbers #pokemon monochrome #mn noncanon #body horror #gore #[<- described in text]#eyestrain #flashing #scopophobia #glitching #[HOHHGOH ITS FINALLY DONE. ive been juggling a buncha different stuff for a while but i really hope this is worth it TvT]#[i like writing red being scary this is fun]#['i'll treat interactions and rps more casually' i said. and Yet]

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minty364 · 1 year ago

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DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 2

Danny knew something was wrong. Jazz wasn’t the type to mess around and Danny knew she wouldn’t ask something like this.

Hanging up the phone Danny thought about his next course of action. Searching up Amity Park got results for some news articles but they were severely lacking headlines about anything ghost related. Another search for his parents this time and they existed but unfortunately they never got the portal working. Great that meant he was trapped in this universe with no easy way back.

Putting his phone away he slowly paced around the rooftop, wondering what steps he could take next. He couldn’t make his way back to Amity Park, he wondered if he could get the portal working but there wasn’t a guarantee they kept the portal in one piece when it didn’t work. He didn’t even know if his stamina could hold the flight back either. He doubted he could find a natural portal, the chance of another spawning nearby was abysmal. He had even left his wallet and keys in his backpack that he left in his locker, there was less chance of Dash stealing from him if he kept nothing of value on him in the first place.

Before Danny had time to make a solid plan the door leading down the stairs burst open and none other than Batman and Robin ran though. Danny had no interest in meeting his father, especially in an alternative universe. They seemed to glance around the roof before they landed on Danny. He only had a couple seconds before Robin ran at him and swung his sword at him. Danny barely dodged before jumping back, getting some distance from Robin.

He took a breath before realizing something, there wasn’t a current Robin in his world. It didn’t make sense, all of the Robins of his world were either retired into a new vigilante name or in the case of Jason Todd, dead. Danny kept up with the Wayne family and the Batfamily, partially because of Sam and Tucker, and partially because of his own curiosity. Sam and Tucker may not have known about Phantom but they were his best friends and he’d do everything to keep them safe.

This current Robin didn’t make any sense, Danny couldn’t make any sense of it. His thoughts caused him to lose focus for a moment and it was all Robin needed as Danny found himself on his back with Robin pointing his sword right at Danny's neck.

It took Danny a moment of staring at the sword until he realized it was his sword. The exact same way he weld back in the League, this WAS him in this universe. Danny couldn’t help but stare, he was a little dumbfounded. How did his counterpart in this world get away from the League? His thoughts were interrupted when Robin started speaking,

“Quiet clone! What does mother want now?” Oh, Danny didn’t like the sound of this.

Danny could admit it was weird hearing the other speak in his voice, “Clone? I’m not a clone.” Danny tried but he could tell Robin wasn’t buying it. Danny could tell Robin narrowed his eyes at him in frustration.

“What do you mean you're not a clone? Except for your eyes you're a carbon copy!” Danny could tell he was getting agitated which might not end well. Danny thought about how to go about this conversation and he decided in the end maybe ripping the bandaid would be the best way to go.

“I’m not a clone!” He repeated scooting a little ways away from the sword, Robin still had it pointed towards him but he didn’t move to attack, good maybe Danny could get some words out. “Alright this is going to sound crazy but I’m from an alternate universe.”

Robin paused like he was listening to something, probably a communication device. Then their Father Batman himself spoke.

“Robin, I need you on backup with Nightwing. I’ll handle things here,” Danny hadn’t ever heard his father speak in person and he felt a little terrified about the conversation he was about to have.

Robin gave him one more glare before heading out and grappling away. Batman approached Danny but stopped a ways away. Danny finally climbed back to his feet before Batman spoke.

“I believe you…” Danny was a little shocked at what he was hearing but he guessed Batman, one of the founders of the Justice League might have encountered some weird stuff in his life.

Batman took a heavy breath before continuing, “ Follow me we can discuss this more once we're back at the cave. I’m sure your version of me is worried sick.”

Danny decided not to say anything on that but followed behind.

The drive to the cave was mundane, Danny was just trying not to think about how difficult the next conversation would be.

Master Post:

Last:

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lilredbird101 · 2 months ago

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I Would – Sevika x OC (Delilah)

OKAY~! So this is my first actual story that I'm posting on here. I've written a lot for myself but they've all sat on my laptop. *Hides hands shaking with nerves*

This piece was inspired by the cute AF art done by @sumilane.

It involves my OC, an environmental scientist and engineer called Delilah. She's a Piltover whistleblower who ratted on the company she was working for. They'd been finding work arounds with waste disposal regulations to cut costs and now she's down in the lanes. I'm not much of a digital artist, so this is my Picrew rendition of her. Unfortunately they don't do accents of greens and blues in the hair colours, so please imagine.

Now, I know that sumilane's art has S2 Sevika hair, but let's just play around with time lines here.

Also, Delilah calls Sevika "Osavika". It's a play on the Spanish word for "bear" - "osa". No, she's not Spanish, and YES, I know Spain doesn't exist in Arcane's universe. Let me be cute XD

Anyway, here is my sappy af fanfiction!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Genuinely, fuck my life.”

Sevika knew who it was before they’d even spoken. Delilah rarely went for any other shoes than her blunnies, and the weight and pace of her gait in them was distinct. Slightly heavy with purpose but twisting and skipping around obstacles lithely. However, Sevika was usually the first seated at the Last Drop for their meetups and by now could tell Delilah’s mood from her step. Today, they trudged.

Sevika glanced her way as she shed her lab coat with stiff shoulders, sighed and slumped onto the stool next to her at the empty bar, flopping her head onto the sticky tabletop. Only Silco’s top employees could be there before evening hours, and there wasn’t anyone else around to witness the lax in professional poise. “Rough day for you too, huh?”

Delilah peered up, old bar nut crumbs sticking to her forehead, noticing a few new bruises and cuts along Sevika’s body. Her eyebrows bounced up, but not in worry – she knew Osavika could take a beating, “Oh shit. How’s the other guy?”

Sevika’s mouth twitched upwards as she reached for her bottle and another glass to pour, “Lying in an alley with many regrets and broken ribs.” She slipped the glass into Delilah’s hand, gently brushing the food from her brow. Delilah scrunched her eyes shut as they tickled her nose. “What about you? You look like shit.”

Delilah scoffed and raised the glass to her lips, knowing full well how her crumpled and stained lab coat, red eyes with dark circles, pale and sunken cheeks, cracked lips and greasy, frizz-ball hair looked. “Silco’s got me working double time until the new compound is finished. Urgh!” She grimaced at the taste of the amber liquid, “This tastes like acetone.”

Sevika reached out, “Well in that case, I’ll take it back.” Delilah snatched her hand back, smacking the hand and gave a playfully indignant look. Sevika’s shoulders bounced, chuckling, “Then don’t complain about free drinks.” Delilah smiled and nodded in thanks and a long silence hung in the air. Sevika rolled her eyes, “You can still complain about everything else if you want.” Having known each other so long by this point, their time together was always the highlight of both women’s days, and a safe venting point. Anyone who’d seen their first interactions would not believe that these where the two same people they’d seen several years ago.

Their “bond” had formed early into Delilah’s contract with Silco.

He was conducting an inspection of the labs to make sure everything was running smoothly under new management. Sevika looked her up and down. The slight little thing had the body more of a dancer than one in their dangerous business, and she moved like it to, gliding with a bounce in her step from bench to bench.

Delilah noticed her wandering eyes, “Anything wrong, Sevika?” She spoke as if each consonant and vowel deserved recognition. Delilah’s voice had lilted out from her mouth like fluttering velvet during the explanation of possible carcinogenic side effects of long-term use, and Sevika found the contrast of presence to present such a juxtaposition. Messing with this little bird will be so much fun.

Sevika leaned against a table and noticed how Delilah tensed up, glancing at the set-up behind her, “Oh nothing, twinkle-toes. Just watching your moves. With pegs like that, what were you? Some kind of ballerina in your infinite spare-time?” She jabbed.

Delilah’s face remained neutral as she collected papers to let Silco check, “Lessons from five to seventeen years. Mum insisted. Principle ballerina in my cohort for six. Why? Are you wanting lessons?”

Sevika laughed, “Certainly not.”

Delilah turned back to her; now it was her turned to look Sevika over, “Shame. I’d pay to see you in a leotard.” And just like that, she was back to her tour with Silco.

Sevika blinked, What in the…? If this little fairy wanted to try and show her up or rattle her, she had another thing coming.

For the next long while, Sevika was strutting around and poking her nose into work benches. She’d seen the woman react when she got too close to them. Delilah liked things just-so and was hyperaware of every millimetre a Bunsen or beaker budged under Sevika’s prodding. She was trying hard to concentrate on Silco’s questioning, but this woman’s damn roaming and smirking was distracting for so many reasons. The feeling built up like beetles scuttering up her back and into her brain.

While Silco was grilling Delilah on specifics, she noticed Sevika messing around with the glassware currently distilling a new shimmer formula she was testing, making a full flask under the rotary evaporator tip dangerously. She immediately turned from Silco mid-sentence, “I’m sorry, sir-,” and— SNAP! Delilah’s voice dropped like a stone, booming out in gravelly baritone built to project, “Get your paws off my equipment you bloody great bear of a bothersome bitch!” It was like a different person burst forward. Her whole posture and accent had changed to something more guttural, more feral.

Delilah stormed over and shoved between her workspace and the woman who was at least a head taller, “If you want to blow yourself up then go ahead and piss that blue-hair brat off, maybe she’ll do you a favour, but don’t go fucking around with this shit. It is volatile IN the body alone, even after testing, and I haven’t run any on this unfiltered stuff yet. I appreciate this is not your field but take some professional advice and BACK OFF.”

Sevika paused, registering that this noodle-armed twig had just insulted her AND ordered her about. Her condescending smirk returned, “Professional advice? I thought you were stripped of all those shiny credentials after the racket you made whistleblowing Up Top.”

“It’s called sacrifice. But then again, I hear you know a lot about that.” Delilah wasn’t shielded from water-cooler talk. She knew all about Vander and the kids, despite being from Piltover.

The corners of Sevika’s eyes tensed, making her mouth appear all the more sharp, “Careful, Sunshine. Bears can get awfully heavy-handed when upset.” Delilah didn’t ease up, she actually raised herself on her tippy toes to get closer to Sevika’s face. Adorable.

“Aww, did I upset you? Go on then, Osavika, take a swipe. Just remember that I’m now the only person on your team that actually knows how to make your fluro coke syrup from scratch.”

Sevika couldn’t believe she was actually having fun underneath her scathed pride, “There are plenty of ways to hurt someone without taking them out of commission.” She gave the balanced Delilah a small shove to the chest, sending her tippy-toes down and scuttling to right themselves.

“Ha! Try it! I’m running off a three-day shift, four hours sleep, a caffeine overdose, ire and manic fucking energy. I guarantee I’ll at least get a few bites in.”

That sent a completely new feeling to Sevika’s gut.

“Ladies!” Silco was momentarily amused, but now just perturbed by the disruption.

The two women eased back, but Delilah wouldn’t return to Silco and the conversation until Sevika moved away from the bench space. She stared her down/up until the woman stepped back. Like a cloud soothing itself after a storm, Delilah posture and voice floated back to it’s original poise and tone, “Apologies, sir. Now, you specified that you wanted a longer run of the effects per dose. Understandable, but I wanted to discuss the side-effects and “hangover” of such a dosage with you. Are you wanting your users to actually LIVE through the experience or is “single use” what you’re going for here? Because I’m going to need more time and resources if it’s the former…”

Delilah kept glancing back towards Sevika occasionally to make sure she was keeping her hands at bay… And to… No, keep your head focused… Unpack that mess of thoughts later.

It had been nearly three years since then, and each gruelling week had brought more stock to their sparring relationship. Then through the tough times it simmered down to mutual respect and appreciation, eventually into what could be called a burgeoning friendship. When Sevika had invited Delilah out for a drink after work, that friendship quickly solidified. They’d had more in common than they originally thought, and being in the same space felt natural after the first hour.

Their company became routine. After-work drinks and matches at the pool table were where it started. Delilah had a terrible poker-face compared to seasoned pros, so cards weren’t an option with more serious players as Sevika quickly found out when she made a terrible decision to fund Delilah’s first games. Teaching her how to line up the cue, take long shots and snooker fools was much easier since she was a visual learner and knew how to work angles. Getting up close and personal to show her the holds was also a bonus for Sevika, though she wouldn’t admit it.

They started not-so-discretely scheduling their rounds and duties to coincide despite their different fields, Sevika volunteering to do follow-ups in the labs just to talk, and Delilah often personally delivering updates in Silco’s office instead of using lackies. Delilah enjoyed bringing the meagre crop of veg from her balcony garden to gift Sevika and invited her over many times to excitedly show her the new sprouts of greens when they finally emerged. They even went going out to get dinner on late nights at work, ending with Sevika dropping Delilah off at home personally… For safety reasons of course.

When Delilah invited Sevika in for late night drinks her mind was flooded with how she might usually play this with other women, but as they sat on the balcony and watched the skyline, it felt too sacred a moment for that. It felt like she’d been given a rest stop or sanctuary. At some point Delilah was mentioning how much she missed her father. She wished desperately that she could return to Piltover and mess around in his workshop with him again, have a joint in the gardens or just fucking talk to him. It was her one regret of her actions.

Sevika surprised herself.

“He sounds nice. Better than mine, anyway.” Delilah cocked her head to the side, not pushing for details or denying with an, Oh he can’t be that bad. Just listening. “Strong family units are hard to find in Zaun, as I’m sure you can imagine. Even more-so when your mum has had enough of the booze and debt and walks out. He didn’t take it easy on me before and sure as Hell didn’t after… Maybe I looked a little too much like her…” She took a sip of her whiskey, but barely moved otherwise, “Got his fucking eyes though…” Her bitterness at that last fact seeped through in her tone, just a little. A cluster of decorative amber lights in the distance brought back a kind pair of irises from Sevika’s memory, and she wished with everything that she’d been given those instead. That she could still look at her before she slept… Just one last time.

Delilah let the moment sit before reaching towards her friend, brushing her cheek. Sevika was startled to feel a tear smudging against Delilah’s soft thumb. “She must have been very beautiful.”

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly in shock at the tenderness of it all, and she tried not to let her lips wobble, “… She was.”

A feeling, so strong and burning like coals rose from her gut as she looked back at Delilah and absorbed the warmth radiating off her… Then she realised…

Damn it.

Inside jokes abound by then and the two felt comfortable enough to get into each other’s space. Not because their shackled feelings were secretly eating them up on the inside. No, of course not. Certainly not because every little touch or lingering morsel of eye-contact had their nerves zinging like electricity through copper wiring.

One time, Sevika was leaning over Delilah’s shoulder to observe the notes she was showing Silco, and her exhale skimmed Delilah’s neck, wafting into her own airways. She felt a fool, but Delilah could have sworn the warmth of it had snaked into her gut and impregnated her, even though she knew the reproductive and respiratory systems weren’t linked that way. She made a mental note to set up her showcase on cramped desk corners more often.

Another time, Sevika was escorting Delilah to a nearby shimmer outlet. It was a particularly hot day and Delilah asked ever so sweetly for a sip from Sevika’s canteen. Her dry windpipe made her voice sound hypnotically smoky, and how could Sevika say no? How could she look away from the droplet that hung at the corner of her mouth, or the pink tip of her tongue that darted out to catch it? How could she not let her tastebuds linger on the remnants of coconut lip balm around the rim of her bottle later?

And don’t get any ideas. Sevika only called Delilah “Sunshine” to make fun of her untameable sun-bleached curls, not because she felt warmer and lighter when Delilah was nearby. And Delilah only added Osa to the start of Sevika’s name so frequently because of the bear joke, not because she felt safe, protected and calm whenever Sevika was around. She didn’t even know the word’s original language fully; she just thought it was an apt pun.

Their infatuation – nay – deep affections were visible to anyone who cared to look or had the time, but somehow these two women, both brilliant in their own fields, had absolutely no damn clue. Or maybe they just couldn’t risk realising. Sometimes the now is too precious to risk the what if.

Delilah let her breath out in a slow, robust, steady blow – a regular stim Sevika had noticed at work -, pulling the pencil from her hair that was holding the lengths of curls up and dropping it to the bar-top with a clatter. The release of pressure had her sighing as she ran her hands through the unwashed mess, and Sevika tried not to file the view away for later. “What am I doing here, Sevika?” The despondent tone got her attention, and she turned to face her coworker more directly. “Like, is it really all worth it? I know it is, but… Is it?”

Delilah turned to her, with such a sad, confused void of a look that Sevika didn’t know what to do with. “… You know I’m not a mind reader, right? You’ll have to give me more detail than that if you want an opinion.”

Delilah breathed again, “When you’re a kid you get told the basic outline of life people follow, and most of us just aim to be happy. Well, here I am, and I feel like I’m in limbo or hell or… Something! My plan was always to get my higher education (check), become an environmental scientist or engineer (check), and find some way to reverse the caustic pollutants that filter down into Zaun,” Delilah made a comically negative buzzer sound and took another sip. “No one gave a fuck up top, and I burnt all my bridges by pushing too hard. Now I’m working for effectively a drug lord in exchange for funding which by the time I take out my living expenses is pittance. The work conditions are shit too, I’m in constant burnout, and as a Topsider no one wants anything to do with me down here! I have no one…”

Sevika looked down at her drink, trying not to let that last remark sting.

Delilah winced, realising how that must have sounded, “Except for you.” She reached her hand out to rest ever so naturally on Sevika’s metal wrist. She didn’t know what Sevika would call their connection to anyone else or if they would ever have anything more, but she knew what it was to herself and that it was at least a deep friendship between them… And that meant the world to Delilah. Sevika was technically her superior, sure, but it hadn’t felt like that for years. To Delilah it was so much more, even if it was just wishful thinking that was becoming harder and harder to silence.

There was something niggling in how Sevika made regular check-ins at the labs, why she felt that Sevika always listened with gruff but genuine care, why Sevika had made sure no one at work or the Last Drop gave her a hard time, why Sevika’s mere presence made her feel like she was in her own secure little bubble. And that barely scratched the surface. Sevika was the best part of any days Delilah spent down in Zaun. Even if what some said was true and it was just to protect an asset of Silco’s, Delilah still felt that… “You are my rough-as-guts saving grace here, Osavika.” The nickname played on her lips deliciously.

God, that smile. Sevika did a great job of hiding it, but she couldn’t ignore the volts that trilled up her arm at Delilah’s touch. It was just phantom pains, but God! Her body gave her no choice but to return the smile in her slight way. “Good save, there Lila.”

“I mean it.” Delilah squeezed the metal before letting go, as if it would have the give or sensation of flesh. “You’re my solace.” She looked forward and took another sip.

Sevika’s tone changed, “What would you do?”

“Huh?”

“If you could choose another life?” Sevika seemed hesitant, playing with the rim of her glass. She hadn’t had many conversations like this before Delilah came along. No one really seemed to think they had other options down here, but she was curious.

Delilah shook her head, “I’ve seen too many damaged by the waste pouring from Piltover. I have a moral obligation to fix this, or at least try. I couldn’t walk away from my work now--”

Sevika cut her off, “But if you could. No moral responsibility. No rules or restrictions. No one else to answer to… What would you do?”

Delilah was taken aback. She hadn’t thought about it in so long, but an image she had as a child came back into her mind. Suddenly her eyes didn’t seem so weary.

“A little house out in nature somewhere. Lots of windows for natural light, clear skies, a little garden with a bird bath, and a water source nearby. Maybe the beach or a river. I don’t know what I’d do to support myself, but maybe I could just get by. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I could have someone to share it with.”

The figure she envisioned with her was so clear in Delilah’s mind. They seemed lighter in the open space away from carnage, smile lines growing around their mouth instead of constant frown lines on their forehead. The sun, good food and rest had softened their dark circles, and their metal claws were replaced with appendages better suited for cuddling by firelight under stars. She wished she could take them away and show them something better. Delilah tried not to blush or look towards the woman by her side.

Sevika watched her mind wandering. It seemed like such a nice vision that she was envious of whomever Delilah would share it with. “It sounds nice,” she said softly, softer than she’d meant it to come out. The vision seemed to have Sevika in a daze as she imagined Little Lila pulling up crop from the dirt, painting the delicate flowers she’d doodle in her lab notes onto the door frame, or washing clothes by the river. Whenever she walked past her at the shimmer labs, Sevika could smell the orange blossom and jasmine oil Delilah dropped into her laundry, and she imagined what it would be like to carry the same smell. Sevika tried not to be so indulgent as to insert herself there in Delilah’s fantasy, but the idea of sharing all that with her felt so easy that she almost forgot who she was in service to.

Delilah shook herself, “Yeah, well, I know I would most definitely need another person to get that idea going. Money is scarce for everyone and a freedom like that is pricy. No one in Zaun would trust each other enough outside of marriage to share funds like that. No one above or below trusts me enough to get to know me in the first place, I barely have enough free time to brush my teeth under Silco let alone go on a date, and who in their right mind would want any part of Silco’s network, anyway? There’s no way I’d be able to get close to anyone to where they’d want to spend a life with me, never mind marriage.”

It slipped out of Sevika’s mouth as naturally as breathing, “I’d marry you.”

…

The air froze.

Delilah slowly turned to look in Sevika’s grey eyes. They’d always reminded her of heavy clouds ready to cool the earth. A brewing storm ready to unleash invigorating, glorious potential energy into the air and light up the sky. She shook her head, trying to get a grip of herself. She must have heard wrong!

“I’m sorry, say that again?”

For once in her life, Sevika felt cold with fear and hot with embarrassment all at once. She scolded herself as her eyes darted down. What had she done? Why would Lovely Lila want someone like her? How could she have jeopardised this one good thing in her life. God, she was a fool!

…

But she wasn’t a coward. She’d already said it. No turning back now. Sevika brought her eyes back to Delilah’s and in a moment her turmoil was swept away in fields of pale green on an overcast day; a natural soft-fall, a masterpiece hiding intricate life beneath it made from infinite small strokes, capable of growing nearly anywhere. She could almost feel the breeze on her face as she stepped out of THEIR front door. The one with the little flowers painted on it.

“I… I’d marry you.” And then it all felt so easy, “In a heartbeat.”

Delilah’s breath caught in her chest, “You… You would…? Really?” Sevika slowly nodded. “But… WHY?” Delilah sounded utterly bewildered. Hearing this seemed so surreal to her she’d dare not trust her own senses.

Sevika reached out tentatively, giving Delilah plenty of time to pull away before her flesh hand reached hers, “Because when I’m around you I forget who I’m meant to be. I feel like the world isn’t as big, ruthless or cruel. Your laugh plays in my head as I go to sleep, and when I wake up – most often from dreams of you - I feel like I’m holding my breath until I see you again. You’re one of the first people in so long who values me as a whole, someone I can completely trust to share myself with, and I love that you trust me enough to do the same.”

Delilah couldn’t believe that such a proclamation that she’d only ever imagined in her daydreams was happening. She knew what it would be taking for Sevika to be so vulnerable, and it filled her chest with a golden joy like sunshine throwing rainbows onto a wall through hanging crystals in a window. She was only kicking herself that she hadn’t done the same sooner.

Sevika continued, “I know our situation is difficult, and I know your work is important and comes first, but… When you’re ready… When you’re ready to live for you… I will spend my days making sure that you’re happy. Until then… I’ll take any part of you that you can give, and I’ll give you anything you want of me.”

Tears that she hadn’t realised were forming finally rolled down Delilah’s cheeks. Sevika reached up to cup her face ever so gently - a tenderness that she would hesitate to show in front of others – and Delilah leaned into it like a little kitten in relief, her own palm raising to press it further. The metal of her hand cooled Delilah’s flushed flesh as she wiped away the offending droplets, and though she knew Sevika couldn’t truly feel it, Delilah pressed a kiss into it anyway. Sevika’s voice came out in a whisper, “I love you, Delilah.”

Delilah’s breath escaped in shudders as the years of yearning finally flew out of her in an explosion of butterflies. More tears flowed and she giggled at the silly worry of bringing rust to Sevika’s hand. Delilah threaded her hands into Sevika’s short locks and brought her forehead to rest on hers, tasting each other’s breath in the small space.

“Oh, good grief, Sevika… I love you too.” And in that moment their lips and hearts finally met.

#arcane #league of legends #sevika #the arcana #OC #Delilah #fluff #pining

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pompomqt · 4 months ago

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Journey to the West Chapter 53

Welcome back to this week's chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest. And as you can probably see from this week's meme, it's *that* chapter this week. So lets get into it shall we?

We begin this chapter where we left off last time, with someone calling out to the Pilgrims. Turns out it's the local mountain gods, and they still have the rice Monkey left with them. They kept it warm and everything. Tripitaka is touched by this, and thanks Monkey, and even says that he should have listened to him and not left the circle. Monkey just says, that he's the one who suffered most for leaving the circle, because he then ended up in someone else's circle anyways. When Pigsy tries to ask what he means by that- Monkey just snaps back that he knows this whole situation was actually his fault. Which- agreed. Anyways Tripitaka say's he'll listen to him next time, but I think we all know that that promise isn't going to last long. Still the pilgrimage is able to have a nice meal together before setting off again on their journey.

Now that we have finally wrapped up last week's adventure, it's time for a new one, let's see what kind of mountain or river demon they have to deal with next. They travel for a bit without incident until spring arrives, and in return they arrive at a small idyllic stream. Surprisingly they don't even need to fight a demon this time to get across, they just call over the local ferryman, who actually turns out to be a ferry woman. Monkey tries to ask why a women is doing this job, but she just smiles mysteriously. That's not ominous at all. Either way however they get to the other side without incident.

They pay the ferry woman, however before they can move on, Tripitaka decides that the water looks very appetizing and asks Pigsy to get him some. Remember kids- don't drink water directly from rivers- especially if there is a village just a few paces away that you can get water from. However I guess this logic didn't exist back then, because Pigsy gets him some river water and also drinks some himself. After that Tripitaka once again mounts his horse and they continue on their way.

Half an hour into their journey though, Tripitaka and Pigsy start having terrible stomach aches, and their stomachs even start to swell. Since they can't continue on like this, Monkey stops at the local inn, and tells Tripitaka that he'll get him some hot liquid and ask if there is an apothecary around. So Monkey approaches the first friendly old lady he see's, and tells them about their situation. However once the old women hears that they drank from the river she starts laughing and even calls for others to come and see the latest town gossip.

Now as much as Monkey might appreciate some fun and games- he does not appreciate everyone poking and laughing at his master rather when there is something seriously wrong with him. So he grabs the old women and demands that she give them some hot water or else. The old women then shakily explains that boiled water won't help them now. As the old woman goes on to explain, they are in the country of women, where no men live. So when a woman wants to have a child, she drinks some water from the Child and Mother River... the very same river that Pigsy and Tripitaka drank from.

So Tripitaka and Pigsy start freaking out about the fact that they are pregnant, especially since they are both men and physically can't give birth. Meanwhile Sandy and Monkey make sure to crack some jokes at their expense. Anyways Tripitaka asks the old woman if she has any medicine that will fix this, and the old woman says that although typical drugs don't work on this type of pregnancy there is a way. They just have to go to Male-Undoing Mountain, and enter the Child Destruction Cave and drink water from the Abortion Stream. All real names I pulled directly from this translated book by the way, I am not making this up.

Unfortunately getting the water won't be so easy as simply going to the mountain since last year a daoist immortal named True Immortal Compliant moved into the cave and started charging exorbitant prices for even the smallest glass of water. Which will be impossible for monks like them to pay- or at least it would be if Monkey ever paid for anything in his life. So Monkey borrows a large porcelain bowl from the old woman who tells him to try and bring back as much as possible for emergency. Then after leaving Sandy in charge, Monkey takes off with his cloud somersault. This has the added effect of impressing old women so much, that she is sure to take extra care of Tripitaka in the meantime.

So Monkey arrives at the indicated mountain and spots the abby, and a young daoist hanging out outside of it. So Monkey politely greets the daoist, and explains why he's here. When the Doaist asks where all his offerings are, Monkey says they are monks so they don't have anything like that. The Daoist tries to shoo him away until he comes back with offerings, but Monkey insists that the Daoist should just tell his master that Sun Wukong is here to see if that will change his mind.

So the Daoist goes in and tells the immortal that a 'Sun Wukong' is here to get some abortion water. Unfortunately, saying this, seems to have worsened Monkey's case, since the Immortal comes storming out hook in hand and demands to know where this 'Sun Wukong' fellow is. Monkey claims the name, and even insists that he's the real Sun Wukong when the Immortal asks. Which fair enough- I'm not sure who would be crazy enough to try and pretend to be Sun Wukong. Well... maybe there is one person but that's a story for another day.

Anyways turns out that this immortal has a bone to pick with Sun Wukong- surprising I know. For once though this isn't about his rampage through heaven- it's actually about the 'Great King Holy Child' Aka Red boy. Aka, the Demon Bull King's son, who had the power of the true fire of Samadhi who is currently working for Guanyin. Anyways, turns out that that Red Boy is this Immortal's nephew, and he isn't to happy about what happened to Red Boy. Monkey tries to insist that working for Guanyin is a great position, while the Immortal argues that it's better to be a King then someone else's servant.

Anyways the two begin to fight, and Monkey is clearly the superior fighter. So soon enough the Daoist retreats back into his Abby. Rather then chasing him down to try and attack him again, Monkey just heads to the well, only to see that the Daoist is guarding it. And while the Daoist can't beat Monkey in a fair fight, he seems perfectly capable of preventing him from drawing water from the well. After some back and forth, Monkey ends up fumbling the bucket and dropping it into the well. Since plan A failed, Monkey decides it's time for Plan B, aka get someone else to get the well water while he distracts the immortal.

So Monkey leaves to go get Sandy, and comes back to the village to find Tripitaka and Pigsy still groaning in pain. Sandy asks if Monkey was able to get the water, and Monkey explains the situation, and that he came back to have Sandy help him. Tripitaka is a bit worried about both Monkey and Sandy leaving while him and Pigsy are so indisposed, but the old women assures him that she will take good care of them, and won't hurt them. While Monkey wonders how any of these old ladies even could harm them- the old woman explains that while she and her cohorts are to old to be interested in men anymore- the same doesn't go for the younger ladies. Who would probably rip them apart in their eagerness. And on that ominous note- they borrow a bucket and some rope from the old lady before heading off again.

Once they arrive back at the mountain, Monkey tells Sandy to hide himself until Monkey provokes battle, and once the Immortal is sufficiently distracted, Sandy can grab the water. Plan in place, Monkey approaches the door and demands that the immortal open up. The Immortal isn't to eager to fight Monkey after Monkey kicked his ass last time, but his Doaist follower hypes him up, saying that Monkey may be able to win in a straight fight, but the Immortal was able to keep him from the well. So that means they are completely evenly matched!

Now filled with unearned confidence the Immortal goes out to fight Monkey again. While those two duke it out, Sandy heads for the well, but is stopped by the young Daoist. However Sandy doesn't play no games, and when the Daoist tries to stop him, Sandy breaks his arm. Better that then his neck I guess. With no one left to stop him, Sandy successfully draws water from the well. After that he calls to Monkey and tells him that they've got the water, so he can stop pretending that his is anything close to a fair fight now.

So Monkey says he'll spare the demon for the Bull Demon King's sake, as long as he stops blackmailing the women here out of their water. However I guess Monkey didn't kick his ass hard enough, because the Immortal tries to use his hook to swipe Monkey's legs again, only for Monkey to take the hook and break it into four pieces. Now that the immortal has been thoroughly beaten, Monkey and Sandy take their leave.

So Monkey and Sandy return, and the old woman is delighted with how much water they've brought back. Pigsy threatens to drink the whole bucket of course, but the old woman says that if he does that his intestines will probably dissolve. Which is enough to convince even Pigsy to stick to the recommended dose. So Tripitaka and Pigsy both drink some of the water- and after they... ahem... 'evacuate their bowls' the two are no longer pregnant. After that the old woman is kind enough to prepare a bath and dinner for them, and asks that Monkey leave the rest of the water with her. Since apparently the cost of the water will be enough to pay for her funeral expenses. Fun. And on that note it is once again time for the pilgrims to continue on their Journey to the West.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction, vanishing in a flash of light, super healing, transforming others, and Invisibility Demon Kill Count: 9+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1009 God's Defeated: 23 + Unknown number Defeats: 6 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses, trading counterfeit goods, criminal threat, animal abuse, Assisting or Instigating Escape, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption and Identity Fraud. Cry Count: 8 + 3 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka and the Tang Monk Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization, Heart Sutra and Meditation. Cry Count: 27 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 31 Paralyzed by fear: 5 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 8 Falling Off Horses: 8

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, and Sword Dancing. Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring, size enhancement and CPR Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 2 Kidnapped by Demons: 4 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 2 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping, arson, defamation, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud and Theft

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater, Cloud soaring, and fetching water from a well. Demon Kill Count: Unknown number of minions. Kidnapped by Demons: 3 Human Kill Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, desecration of a human corpse, Damage to Religious Property and contaminating a substance for human consumption

Previous - Masterpost - Next

#journey to the west #jttw read through #jttw #journeythroughjourneytothewest #sun wukong #tang sanzang #zhu wuneng #sha wujing #It's good to see Sandy finally getting some screen time #especially since he was hilarious this chapter #Also Tripitaka was a trooper this chapter #He only cried once!

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chibi-celesti · 3 months ago

Text

Time for Your Tune Up(Skully J. Graves)

~TFYTU~

Skully still found this Halloween to be one for him and Jack to remember! Twelve mysterious individuals(and a cute cat mascot!) in outfits in homage of his dear hero, Jack Skellington, shook him down all the way to the marrow of his bones! He (minorly) forgave them for their ignorance of not knowing who Skellington-sama was. They were on thin ice.

The tour he gave them of Halloween Town was sublime. Their curiosity of knowing an elusive admirable king of Scares. An entrepreneur of fears. A God among the dead(take it down a notch, Scully)! He reveled in being their guide of this town he and many call home.

He was swept up in speaking about such history, he neglected to see that his entourage had slowed in their pace. Skully snapped his neck so quickly as he saw them talk amongst themselves. Slithering in the shadows he strained his ears, red eyes glimmering in excitement at what gossip he will hear.

“- need someone to stay with him.”

‘Him?’ Which him is it? Skully thought owlishly.

“He does look seconds away from vomiting his lungs out.”

Blood orange eyes beamed hearing that. ‘Oooooo! Sounds exciting!’

“Does he even have any on his person?”

‘Any what exactly?’ Curiosity will kill him(happily), Skully creeped behind the crowded boys and cat.

“I doubt it. And our magic isn't strong enough to craft into existence.”

“Craft what exactly?”

The NRC students, sans a few, jumped at the sudden sound of their host's voice. “EEKK!/ Why You-!”

He only laughed at the terror he bestowed them. “You should've seen your faces. They were filled with so much dread. I love it!”

“...” The others were not as amused as he was. And I’m sure most of them popped a blood vessel.

“Is there an issue, Skully-san?” Riddle asked, keeping his temper in check.

“I was wondering what your little tea party was all about. You suddenly stopped following me. I was getting lonely.” He cried.

“It's nothing to worry about, Skully-san.”

“You sure, Jamil-chan. You were all whispering about someone seconds away from vomiting their lungs out~”

“You were eavesdropping?!”

“You boys weren't subtle about your group huddle. Ghosts, the wind; even the Hills and spider infested catacombs and mausoleum have ears and listen to everything.”

“...”

“Our friend is a little lightheaded. He needs to take his medicine to fix it, but unfortunately neither he nor us have any extras on our persons.”

“I see, I see.” It was obvious to him which of these brats’ health wasn't doing too great. “Could it be your colorful friend, Yumei-chan?”

“How did-!” A bone decorated glove fixed his glasses, and then casually pointed to the boy in question sleeping on the ground by the fountain like a corpse. “And you're not quite subtle.”

The boy with the eyepatch-Leona-growled at him. ‘How cute,’ He thought.

“Y-yes. We're worried about him, and were thinking about finding a way to help him.” The smaller boy-Epel-confessed.

‘Is that so?’“Hmmm~. Perhaps I can be of assistance~”

“Say that again?”

“May I be of assistance to your friend? Surely there's something I can do to help.”

“I seriously doubt it. A deranged weeabo of your stature would react like any normie unused to this.”

“I concur.” Vil agreed with Idia.

“Come now, mina-san. Do you all really wish to argue, or do you want your friend to live?”

That was quick enough to stop their arguing. He couldn't help but laugh at their collective reluctance for his help. “Fine. But be quick about it!”

Malleus Draconia, who was a bit more protective over the ailing boy, stepped away so Skully could get closer. He gave a quick glance at the symptoms shown on Yumei’s face and body language. Grave’s deduction skills were spot on; another like he needed that particular geode to live. Good thing he came prepared.

He cleared his throat. “This will need a bit more of a special touch from me. I do apologize in advance, gentlemen.”

“Huh?” They all said.

Carefully the eccentric boy peeled away Yumei’s collar, exposing his Installer Port on his neck. He internally squealed at the sight, and leaned ever so close…

A small moan escaped from unconscious lips, as Yumei twisted and turned from the sensation on his most sensitive part of his body. His classmates’ jaws hit the floor witnessing Graves committing an adulterous act on their friend. ‘WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH PROVIDING AID TO HIM!?!?!?’ They all thought.

Despite the unconscious state he was in, the Reyvateil whined and clung to Skully as he kissed and licked at his Port shamelessly. Tears prickling his eyes all the while Skully was intimate with his neck.

If there was a time they wished they had their magic on them it would be now. The whole NRC group suffered the seven stages of shock, unyielding rage, and envy(except for Grim who was hiding in Tsunotarou's jacket, and Epel whose eyes were covered by Vil the moment it started). Even Trey and Jae, the most(somewhat) reserved boys were debating on either reprimanding Skully, or think of millions gruesome ways to beat him up.

The shaggy haired boy left Yumei’s neck with one last kiss, and casually pulled out a Life Extending Agent from his tailcoat pocket. He placed the Agent right on the Port and smiled, seeing the worried lines and wrinkles fade away leaving the bluenette in a state of peace.

Trey blinked his eyes many times trying to process what he just witnessed. “He…had one?”

“You…all this time, you had one?”

“WHAT BLASPHEMY IS THIS!?!?! HOW DID YOU PROCURE A DIQUILITY CRYSTAL, HUMAN?!”

“That, my friends, is a secret I'll take to my grave~” He grinned, drinking in the Night Raven students’ frustration.

Later, back home in Twisted Wonderland:

Yumei was rubbing at his neck carefully, minding the placement of his port. He couldn’t shake off this nagging sensation forming in his mind.

“Oi, Yumei. You ok?”

“I’m fine, Grim,” He petted his companion.

“Promise.”

“You keep rubbing at your neck. What gives?”

“I dunno. It’s like, someone touched it, but like…” He shook his head. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, my high end! Spill it to your boss!”

“No!”

“C’mon! Please?”

“No.”

“Please, with a tuna can on top~”

“NO! Last thing I want is to traumatize you again!” He donned his witch’s hat.

“I was not traumatized!” He turned his away in denial.

“Sure~” He picked up his furry friend. “Now, let’s go trick-or-treating!”

“Candy time~~~”

They stepped out of the decorated Ramshackle and ran into the festivities of Halloween in Twisted Wonderland, passing by many visitors who came by on campus. Almost bumping into a shaggy, black and white haired youth with orange eyes.

“Ah! So sorry. I was in a hurry and-”

Blood orange eyes and a small smile acquainted the duo. “It’s fine. Just be mindful of your surroundings~” He kissed the Reyvateil’s hand, and then Grim’s forehead, which earned him a complaint.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry again.” He bowed before taking off. The eyes of the odd stranger never left his form, even after he vanished into the crowd.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ar tonelico #twst x ar tonelico au #Time for Your Tune Up #skully j graves #skully j graves x yuu #twst skully

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therentyoupay · 1 month ago

Note

I got one I’m gonna use in my fic.

Snowpea.

kris-thoughts: immediately, "damn, that is a good one." 😂 i love the originality of it (i have never seen it used anywhere else, in any context!!?) one of the terms of endearments in my family was "sweetpea," so this also brings up some nostalgic vibes!! 🥹 okay, here i go!

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

❆ snowpea ❆

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

Elsa followed Jack through the bustling market, hovering well above the crowd—(he was still uncomfortable with the feeling of passersby shifting through him; she'd noticed this the very first time they'd been on duty together)—but Elsa was amidst the throng of people, winking in and out of existence in ripples of shimmering blue; Jack hated the feeling of disBelief, and Elsa didn't love it, but it was better than feeling nothing at all.

"Stick close, newbie!" Jack called down to her, weaving through stalls like a gust of wind. Several patrons in the crowd held their coats tighter about their shoulders.

Elsa peered at the various stalls in lieu of releasing the sigh that sat heavy in her chest. The Guardians had been rotating their mentorship duties for weeks now, each taking a turn to guide her through her transition into this strange new role, and Jack's turns were always... Hmm.

"You all right back there?" he called. Elsa nodded back. He grinned down, that impish look in his eye, a deep slant to his smirk, "Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"

Elsa merely glared, and kept walking. Then, as an afterthought, a concept of manners— "No, thank you."

(She had so many questions she never asked, but when she was quiet for too long, Jack did his very best to poke and prod her into some type of reaction.

Elsa, unfortunately, was not as immune to his prodding—or above reacting—as she might have liked.)

She quickened her pace to keep up with this restless, reckless Guardian—a winter spirit, yet so unlike her, so utterly—

Her curiosity was instantly piqued by the vibrant produce lining the wooden stands. (Don't you miss the joy of tasting these flavors on your mortal tongue? How can you stand knowing that you do not need it? Don't you feel that these tastes become less delicious, less enjoyable, when your body no longer finds sustenance in food— when the only thing your soul requires is Belief?)

Among the carrots, cabbages, and bundles of herbs, a pile of green pods caught her attention. She stopped.

“What are these?” Elsa asked, pointing to one from the pile. She dared not reach for one, knowing that her hand would pass right through in a sea of busy Adults, but she could imagine it—the pod was smooth and crisp between her fingers.

"These? You've never seen these before?"

Elsa resisted another sigh. If she had, would she be asking? No, no, Elsa—he doesn't mean anything by it. Sometimes, if she explained something rationally, Jack was more likely to take her seriously.

"In all my years, both when I lived in Arendelle while Anna was still alive and all the decades I've roamed after, I've never been in a region that trades this product." She saw him shift his weight from foot to bare foot as he considered her seriousness.

But of course, he had to make everything a game; he grinned down at her, his staff slotted into the slant of his shoulder, and cheekily asked, "What do you think they're called?"

She tilted her head. Fine. "Well... how does one eat them?"

“Look, you eat the whole thing—pod and all. Here, watch the master.”

He snagged one and held it up. Elsa pushed down the violent wave of envy that stole her breath—she hadn't yet learned that particular trick, how to make the world revolve around her and bend to her will even amidst all the disBelief. None of the adults noticed when a pod disappeared into thin, cold air with a loud crunch. Jack seemed oddly aware of her stare, but perhaps not fully perceptive of all the complicated emotions within it.

"Uh," Jack backtracked, rubbing the back of his neck, grinning in obvious discomfort and bravado. "Sorry. Do you want one?"

"What makes them special?"

Jack didn't insist on offering her one, for which she was gratefuldisappointedresentfulrelieved. He continued to rub the back of his neck and fuss with the hood of his clothing; she knew that she should be making a more concentrated effort to warm up to him ("Play nice, Icepop," Bunny—Bunny!—of all people!—had said), but Elsa was feeling particularly out of sorts today, and was therefore feeling less charitable than usual.

“Other than the fact they have ‘snow’ in the name?”

Elsa blinked.

Jack swiped another and bit into the pod with exaggerated flair, crunching loudly. “See? Snappy, sweet," he crunched some more, "so—basically the vegetable version of you.”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that supposed to entice me?”

"You're more than welcome to try one," Jack heavily hinted, side-eyeing the basked. Take one. Try it.

But failing in front of Jack was one of Elsa's least favorite things to do.

"What is the name?" Elsa insisted.

Jack could never stay still. He gripped his staff and leaned his weight forward, dropping to eye level as he hung off the staff before him, peering directly in her face. “Snowpeas. Fitting, huh?”

She had the strangest, most bizarre urge to blush.

With the promise of ice hovering just beneath her skin, Elsa kept her perfectly expressionless mask in place and said, "Are you making that up?"

For the first time, Jack looked truly surprised. "What! No!"

"They're green."

"They're—it has to do with the harvest, okay! They thrive in cooler climates, eye-ee, the reason why we are here!"

Elsa regretted ever teaching him about id est, because now he used it at every possible opportunity. She was about to press him again when his posture shifted—and something in the air gave way, ever so slightly.

“C’mon, give it a shot. It’s good! Think of it as part of your training," and then, in a voice that was uncharacteristically uncertain, "Trying new things?”

Elsa couldn't resist a second glance at that. His tone... but Jack merely gripped his staff with both hands, leaning into he wood, waiting patiently... the picture of innocence. Elsa looked closer. The picture of... ?

But no, Elsa dismissed the very idea. Jack is too cocky, too careless to care about my opinion of him.

With a slight incline of her head, Elsa turned to the basket and stared at the pods. She tried to ignore the sensation of Jack watching her intently. Why does every outing with him end up like this?

"Elsa. Don't think. Just reach out and grab one."

"How am I supposed to just—"

But then his weight was pressing her forward—his shoulder into her shoulder, his hand into her lower back—and the shock of the sudden movement forced her to extend her hand—which landed squarely in a pile of pods, and reflexively closed around a handful of—of—

"Snowpeas," Elsa whispered, in shock, at the mound of green things in her hand.

She yelped as she was suddenly lifted into the air.

"Jack!" Elsa cried, looking down at the vast crowds below as Jack flew over them, headed toward a nearby rooftop. "Was this necessary!"

Jack's laughter floated on the wind, and stuck between her ribs; she very purposed denied each and every offer for him to carry her for a reason.

"You want a bunch of Adults to see a handful of snowpeas floating in midair?!"

"I—"

"Yeah, yeah, here," Jack set her down—surprisingly gentle—on her feet, on the rooftop. Elsa was slightly surprised to see that she was still clutching a handful of snowpeas in her grasp. Jack was counting them, pointing to each one. "North did say you were an overachiever." His smirk was entirely too self-satisfied.

Elsa was about to retaliate; she was sure of it. She was sure—

"Don't you wanna try it?"

Still. Retaliation could wait...

With a sigh, Elsa plucked one of the pods from her palm and took a tentative bite. The pod snapped between her teeth, and her eyes widened. It was unexpectedly sweet and fresh—a hint of spring in the middle of winter.

But her face was answer enough, apparently, for Jack leaned on his staff, a self-smug thrill of victory in the line of his posture. Elsa chewed, contemplating. She was still irritated, of course, but also... pleased, in spite of herself; Jack, for whatever reason, could tell.

"See?" he leaned forward, and his voice lowered in his quiet victory. "I knew you could do it." Jack’s grin softened. “Baby steps, Snowpea,” and then he made his way toward the nearby fire escape.

"S-snowpea?" Elsa echoed, aghast.

"Hey! There's a fire escape over here! Unless you want me to carry you back down?"

Still baffled but eager not to be caught off guard again, Elsa quickly stepped over to the fire escape; she was still processing snowpea, when he glanced down at her hand, and said, "You're gonna share half of those with me, right?"

"I will," Elsa promised, extending her hand—and then snatched her hand back as he reached for hers, "If you promise to never call me 'snowpea' again."

Jack grinned. "Certainly."

Happy with her trade, Elsa shared two of the four remaining pods with him.

For the rest of the night, as they roamed the village and brought Fun and Healing to the Children, Jack kept his promise, for which she was gratefuldisappointedresentfulrelieved.

And for days after, he did not call her snow pea, but she wondered what it would mean if he did—and she wondered what that meant.

❆ ao3

#therentyoupay call me #therentyoupay snowpea #therentyoupay ask #da-awesom-one #therentyoupay askbox game #therentyoupay petname challenge #jelsa #first one!! 😂 definitely longer than a drabble hahahah #THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SENT AN ASK SO FAR I WILL TRY TO CRANK THEM OUT SOON

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