#redemptivs

[eromai-blog1]

RESCUE THIS DAMSEL TBH

[eromai-blog1]

✨✧⋆ @redemptivs ✦

There were many things that were said about the Pomegranate. They said it was the place to ask for hard-to-get things, substances and items some people didn't even have names for. They said it was old, too old to judge exactly, and that the procuress was elected by the workers upon the death or retirement of the old; an odd practice in their line of work, to be led and managed by one of their own. They called it an oasis, a den, a garden. Of course, it was as barren as anything else and the flowers of the garden were, in fact, a bevy of pleasure women. The only flowers found in the place, or anywhere nearby, were embroidered on Procuress Aphrodite's pretty clothes.

Aphrodite was young and only recently elected for the position, but she ran, what she called, a clean ship. Men that saw her slight frame and her doe eyes and thought they could get away with trying to strong arm her into anything were quickly corrected by the hulking guard that manned the door. Her low, fluttering, breathless way of speaking belied her cleverness, and she was more than willing to let men think her stupid and soft so long as they remembered whose establishment it was.

As it was, Dite was good with faces. The Pomegranate had a high client turnover rate. It wasn't odd to see a man once and then never again, but Dite always remembered the returning customers. But even if she hadn't had the memory for it, there was no way she would have overlooked the woman sitting at one of the tables. Seeing a woman that wasn't working there was rare enough, but seeing one twice was, in Dite's experience, entirely new. Just like last time, the woman didn't join in with the raucous atmosphere of the room, instead lingering on the fringe with an unreadable expression on her face.

Dite watched for a minute, thoughtfully sucking on the beaded necklace dangling around her neck (one of her worst habits, honestly) before she pulled a cup over, filling it with the nearest bottle. It didn't really matter what it was, since they all tasted like shit.

Dite crossed the room, stopping just behind the woman to lay a soft hand on her shoulder, bending down until she was in the sight of the corner of her eye.

"Welcome back," Dite said, setting the cup down on the table, favoring the side of the woman's intact arm. "Glad to see you aren't dead. That's on the house, by the way."

[ireofembers-blog]

☀ -stares-

Send me ☀ for a popular plot trope starter.

7) Seven Minutes in Heaven

When she had sat cross-legged across him he had teased her with a wagged eyebrow. As her turn had approached he’d tossed more and more relentless comments her way and each time she had brushed him off with that same detached confidence he’d always known her for. When she had reached for the bottle he’d distracted her by calling her name and then kissing the air with a loud smack when she looked his way. None of that compared though to the rancorous delight he took when the bottle had come to a stop pointed at him. Furiosa had cursed with more irritation than he thought her body could hold and he’d fallen onto the floor howling with laughter. The look on her face had been priceless. The night couldn’t have gone any better if he’d planned it himself. 

Rithisak knew Furiosa. It was hard not to after three years of friendship that had been built on an almost one-sided tendency of him to annoy her. She gave as good as he dished and for all the tired sighs and lost tempers leading into a well-deserved smack upside the head they were good friends. He teased and he flirted but they both knew at the end of the day it wouldn’t ever go anywhere. It was why they could be comfortable with it. But Rithisak knew himself too. He’d once made out with Blaine because someone had promised the then drunk him a taco if he did it. That all while being comfortable as a heterosexual, red-blooded teenager. He would venture that he flirted with female friends as often as he did male ones without doubting himself for it. He knew for a fact that he unlike her could follow through on this. 

He was certain she could see his cheeky grin even in the darkness of the closet. At best he gave it about five minutes before he managed to break her patience and she either head-butted him or hit him. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. “So –” He drawled the single syllable out in a way that could be described only as sleazy despite the hints of smothered laughter. “ – come here often?” Here his head dipped to whisper the words right against her earlobe. He almost broke character just picturing the way her brow would twitch and her mouth would set in a firm line. People always wondered why he was put up with by the amount of people he was. He always shot back that everyone wanted to be the confident, life of the party that he was. With cock sure arrogance he’d admit he was an asshole, but a loveable one. 

A snicker escaped his lips. “I’ve got other lines if that one doesn’t work,” he chirped. This time all evidence of sleaziness had vanished from his voice and there was only amusement instead. He stood up straight again – a sore point had always been their height difference – and began to count off on his fingers. “How’s a girl like you end up in a place like this? There are easier ways of getting me alone.” He tapped the two fingers though the point was moot without any light. “Oh! I was also thinking about asking if it hurt when you fell from heaven since we’re playing seven minutes in heaven and all but – “ Rithisak shrugged. “ – that just didn’t make the A-list. What do you think? I could probably make it work if we had some light in here. Lay on the charming smirk.” Oh, he was just asking to get hit. 

[ireofembers-blog]

"How'd we get into this mess?"

@redemptivs 

Send “How’d we get in this mess?” and I’ll generate a number between 1-25. 

 19) Our muses have gotten caught out in the rain. 

Over the fierce howling of the wind a man could barely hear himself think much less speak. Even if he were to scream at the top of his lungs it would only be torn away with the screeching storm. Rithisak raised his arm in an attempt to shield his face but it did little to buffet the sharp stings of pain the rain hailing down upon his skin. “We need to get to higher ground!” he yelled but it was lost to the thunder that rolled overhead. He thought of his son frightened as a rabbit and just as small against a storm of this size. As it was he could barely manage to keep his footing. The thought of what this sort of weather could do to a six-year-old was gut wrenching. Rithisak could not always be there for his son when he needed him most but at least he wasn’t alone. Three months earlier to the day he would have been. 

The father didn’t much like the thought of not at least trying to reach the commune but the man that tried and died was not the man that survived to return home. Hunching his shoulders Rithisak forced himself forward another five steps to grab the shoulder of his companion. No one had seen this storm coming. Not even her. “Furiosa!” His voice was barely audible to even his own ears as the winds began to pick up around them. “We’re not going to make it to the town in this weather. We need to try to make a break for higher ground and try to find something there instead.” If she could not hear him she could at least feel his touch and if she turned his body language would speak where his words failed. He jerked his head in an upwards motion towards the peaks of the mountainous terrain. 

Their original plan had been to make a break for an old and abandoned mining town when they’d first seen the storm clouds rolling in. What neither of them had predicted was how heavy the torrent of rain would be or the force of the winds as thunder shook the skies. Even if by some miracle they had reached the town in time he worried it wouldn’t be enough. During their scrambled trek he had seen for the bare flash of a second the river. Rithisak didn’t know the area well but it had looked as if the water levels were much higher than he remembered them being. Better a poor shelter of rock and ground than the one likely to be flooded. The sky flashed white as lightning struck. Its thunder echoed in his bones. If they were caught up in the worst of it he could only pray that meant that his son and the Many Mothers weren’t.  

Another strike of lightning bled the skyline white. “With this much rain there could be flash floods. The river wasn’t looking too good when we passed it.” It was difficult to speak when it felt like the air was being dragged out of his lungs with every word. He lifted his arm higher and his eyes narrowed as he turned and began the scramble up the incline. Even no longer facing the direction the rain poured down from every inch of him still stung. Not even his thick jacket did much to protect him from any of it. His foot slipped and he almost went tumbling back down the mere twenty feet he had made it up but Rithisak forced himself forward with each struggling step. It felt like the storm only got worse the higher up he got. He couldn’t even look back for Furiosa. The fate that waited them however at the bottom was a far worse one. If they got by it would be by the skin of their teeth. 

Each step felt like it took hours and when he saw up ahead the small yawning mouth of a cave relief flooded him. He didn’t pause even a second before scrambling into it with a renewed burst of energy. Not even a wild animal could keep him from this respite from the storm raging around them. He tumbled into its darkness and though the winds still howled it no longer whipped at his exposed skin. Rithisak sighed a relief before turning back and searching for Furiosa. In the barest second’s glance he had seen of the cave it was something more like a den. It was small and from where he stood he could see its back walls. There was no warmth to it and if the waters reached high enough they could drown there. One could only pray they’d made it far enough to avoid that particular fate. 

[vuulpecula]

@redemptivs replied to your photoset:HAPPY MUNDAY.  [ There’s five minutes left until...

SCREAMS LOOK AT THIS CUTENESS

SCREAMS BACK AT U BC U ARE ALWAYS SO GOOD TO ME OK SO HUSH. <3 

[mad-rockatansky-max]

✉

Five times my muse almost texted yours, and one time they did.

[Attempt 1] Max had gotten her one evening at the bookstore. He saw her there, like a gift from above, reading two seats down from him with a mug of tea. It seemed risky, and he was sure he sounded absolutely daft, but after a little small talk and haltingly requesting her number, she gave it to him. Maybe she was taking pity on him. He very rarely did anything of the sort - pick up ladies at random places, but he was delirious from lack of sleep and she was beautiful. He’d thought about texting her on the walk home quickly ended that train of thought. He was a little nervous and he’d get to it later, right? 

–

[Attempt 2]The next day, he picked up his phone to text her, writing out nearly a dozen messages before erasing one final time, sighing into his hands. It was too soon, right? Wasn’t there a rule about waiting a certain number of days or something? Whether the rule was real or not, he decided to believe in it, simply for an excuse to put it off.

–

[Attempt 3]

On day 3 after the Collecting of the Number, a thought hit him. What if it was one of those weird hotlines that dump you? What if it was a fake? Chewing his lip, he dialed the number and winced grossly through the entirety of the call. To his relief, no one or thing picked up. 

You’ve reached Furiosa. I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks.He hung up before the beep. 

–

[Attempt 4]

On the morning of day 4, he wrote out a simple hi and took a deep breath, disheartened when there was no chime of a response within the hour. He couldn’t face his phone and went for a long walk with his dog instead.

–

[Attempt 5]

On the evening of the same day, he finally returned to his phone with a bit of disappointment only to find he had never bothered to hit Send. He smacked his palm against his forehead and groaned, finger hovering over the send button. 

He chickened out.

–

[Success]

On the fifth day, he decided to go out drinking with some buddies after a fair amount of badgering. He returned home at 11 at night, sloshed and stupid, clutching tightly to his chest the cookie he had obtained… somehow. He didn’t remember where he got it, but he knew he paid for it. That was the important part. Wiping crumbs from his stubble, he whined in anguish when he saw that he was out of milk and immediately began fumbling for his phone. Cheedo lived a few doors down and maybe she’d take pity on him.  

You got milk? I’m out. :( he texted before sending a picture of his cookie, one bite taken out of it. Who’s this? came the reply. He scrunched his nose, eyes crossing as he tried to respond without too many typos.

This is MaxThe book store man? His eyes widened as he let out a small yell of embarrassment, realizing quickly he hadn’t bothered to text Capable but rather Furiosa. [M] Yeah. srry i meant 2 send this t my friend for milks. I drank with freinds. 

[F] So you’re drunk? I didn’t think you’d ever text me.

[M] i wanted totext u

[F] Why didn’t you?

[M] honestly i was really nervous. yu’re really cool. 

[F] You said you live by the irish pub on Magnolia, right?

[M] yeah

[F] Go to the little bakery right there in five minutes. I’ll bring you milk you pathetic drunkard. 

[vuulpecula]

Snowpiercer AU with @redemptivs

"My friend, you suffer from the misplaced optimism of the doomed.”  Snowpiercer | Bong Joon Ho, 2013. 

[vuulpecula]

@redemptivs replied to your post:“ do you understand the damage you’ve done here!?...

OH MY GOD are you sure you have the right person?! Also do you want to turn this into a thread? I’d love to reply to this

YES I AM SURE. I’m writing from beyond the grave rn bc i have died of happiness and amazement <3. If you’d be willing to do the thing, then LET’S DO THE THING. <3 I’d love anything (and everything) from you tbh, no joke.