#anyway. this is a good chance to make myself conquer a few of the many mass market paperbacks on my tbr lol

[sixofravens-reads]

Next read!

Since I'm going to my local comic expo next week, and am of course bringing a book, I decided to read a smaller mass-market paperback that's easy to carry around. I might finish this before the expo, which means choosing another small book, but that's all right because I have quite a stockpile of them on my TBR.

#winter rose #patricia a. mckillip #currently reading #i have a problem: that i love buying mass market books (especially older ones with wonderful painted covers) but i find the intimidating #partly bc the font is often so small i have to squint a little to read it and partly bc my brain says 'ooooh this is a Serious Fantasy!' #even if it isn't #anyway. this is a good chance to make myself conquer a few of the many mass market paperbacks on my tbr lol

[naoa-ao3]

History Reeks

An ancient man, doomed to live forever was cursed by one of John's ancestors. Four thousand years later he meets John and becomes convinced that at last his story will have an end.

I, Piper Caith. 

I once played my flute for the people I knew but I no longer know them now. Those people are long since dead and their names and faces have been forgotten to all but me. 

I find sometimes it grows harder to recall the faces of the people who have come before. My mother's face is a blank void in my mind. I remember warmth and hair and that she was but not the color of her eyes nor the shape of her nose. My father was tall. I remember that and I remember that I had siblings and a woman I loved but they are all so long ago that now they do not come back to me when I call them. 

Only him. 

Only he comes back.

The laughing magician. The cruel fool I once called friend comes back though I try not to call him. His blue eyes and face. . . His golden hair and lies. . . I can't forget them though he has been long dead also.

When I sleep he returns to me, spinning yarns and telling stories. We once called him legend maker for he could make even the most simple of feats into a tale of adventure but they were lies and stories and nothing more. 

Now when I remember his stories I clench my fists for he made me what I am now. It is because of him that I am still here. Because of his cowardice.

Because of him I could not fulfill my role in life. Because of him I have no role in life but that which he gave to me and I hate him for it. 

Him who stole from the gods. . . Him who died an ugly death. My closest friend and most hated enemy. 

Back when we were friends the world was younger, not young but younger than it is now and we lived in huts and drank from rivers and streams. We danced and made love and I played my flute.

My friend laughed.

People still dance and fuck and listen to music though it has been years since I last put my wooden flute to my lips and he has not laughed in many more years.

My friend was vey clever, Eliud was his name and he was always better with the girls than I was. They liked his yellow hair and his smile. They liked the stories he told, his lies and his half truths. Eliud was not a man of honor. He was wild and he had respect for no one and nothing. Only later would I learn how deep that lack of respect ran. Only when it was too late would I know. 

Eliud and I were inseparable. I would have swam the ocean for him but he would not have done the same for me. I knew it then and I convinced myself that I did not care. 

I played my flute and he seduced woman after woman, his smile bright and their eyes keen. I was a good friend even when he was not and then there came Cuna who was lithe and very beautiful. She was the first woman I ever saw Eliud take seriously. Perhaps that was the first omen for it was so unlike him. 

In this modern age I find it had to reconcile with the past. There are gleaming towers of steel and glass and automobiles that travel faster than any horse I have ever known. The earth has been paved over and yet she is not conquered. Perhaps she never will be. . . I live my life now as any man. I work and toil and then drink and at night I sleep alone. Occasionally a woman will come to bed with me but my heart is in the grave. It has been for along time. . . perhaps since my first love.

Eliud had her as well, the bastard couldn't help himself. He must have seen that we were happy but she is no more and neither is he and he ruined any chance I might have had with her anyway when he did what he did to me.

What woman wants a husband who cannot grow old with her? For a few fleeting years she might enjoy it but when time comes for her and he is not along side, she will feel differently and so it was with my love. I never again tried to play husband. 

No, I keep my head down and I play what part I can, always an outsider and always alone. I have accepted that I am something other. 

When i sit and drink among the mortals I feel it the least for when has a man lived that did not enjoy the fruits of the earth? What man would weep at a glass of bitter set before him?

No, drink warms me though I have not had a true friend to share it with in many years. Because of that I sometimes miss Eliud. 

He was after all my dearest friend and I once loved him. 

I think these thoughts as I sit in the smokey pub that has taken the place of wayside inns and taverns in my life. I like this place and I have come here often.

I think of the past that is always with me and the days and people I have known and across the room I hear a laugh from far off days. 

A laugh I have heard many times before and yet not in many years. 

My heart skips and begins to hammer in my chest and I scan the crowd of drinkers for the mouth that spat it forth. 

There. . . Among a group of friends he sits. 

The laughing magician.

I stare at him and drink him in, the wretched sight of him. . . He is smiling as he always smiles and yet I frown for I can see it is not him. There are differences in his face. In his mouth and manner and he is taller than the man I knew. . . Taller than his ancestor. 

He laughs and smokes and I am taken back to outdoor fires and another laughing man. 

This one is a child compared to his years but just the same. I know this face. I know those eyes and I know his most distant father. It could be no one else. This is Eliud's line I am looking at. Nothing else. 

My blood boils and I hate him as he lifts his glass to his mouth and drinks. I hate him so very deeply and yet he is not the man who has wronged me. 

When I can bare it no longer I drain my glass and leave. My hands are shaking outside and I have to cover my mouth with them. 

I am shaken. 

A child of Eliud in this age. . . To think that he could live on in the blood of the modern world. . . It angers me. It isn't right and I am hurt. I have no offspring to be proud of. . . What good could his have been when they spring from the loins of a liar and a thief? This one that laughs as my Eliud did. . . How I despise him already. 

I know it is not fair to him. I do not know this laughing man. The one inside the tavern. . . I know his hated ancestor and I let my anger direct my feelings. I am only a man. . . Only human despite what he has made me. 

I feel small looking at him. 

Time has forgotten me and I tear my eyes from the window so that I do not have to see what remains of my dearest friend. 

I cannot look and so I run home. I hide in my flat as I once did in my hut. I pull blankets over my head like a scared child and I weep for all of the years that have happened and all that threaten to come next. 

When sleep takes me I dream of shifting waves and a small boat, too little to save me. 

It is him who pulls the prow forward. 

Him and his lies and his magic. 

I am helpless before him. 

His laugher is like thunder in my ears and his eyes are like lighting and they scare me.

Then he is struck down and some great hand scoops up my little boat and rescues me from certain death. I am dried and loved and saved and I can feel only relief.

The gods that HE forsook have spared me. I am connected to them now. We are not friends but we do not hate each other. They know I am not the one who has wronged them.

I warm myself, free from my boat only to open my eyes and see him there. . . The man from the pub. 

He looks at me with cool and merciless eyes. He does not know what he looks at and yet he looks and I hate him for it. I want to put out his eyes with my thumbs. I want to press them back into his head until he quakes and bleeds and bends under me. I want him to suffer as I have suffered. 

Hatred makes my heart hurt and the hands that saved me ferry me away once more, sheltering me from his hateful gaze.

A voice whispers to me, a voice I have heard only a few times before. 

"Kill this man and you will be free. 

It will only take one more death. 

His. 

End his wretched line and free yourself. 

We hate him."

The voice is loud and harsh and I quake as it speaks to me yet it makes sense. Something in my chest unwinds and I understand. Killing him will spare me more pain.

"You must kill him where this began."

Where Cuna died and where Eliud betrayed his makers. . . Where I was changed. 

I seize this information and wrap it around my heart. 

I will do as I have been told. 

It will be like killing Eliud.

I will find this man and I will set right what was made wrong so many years ago. 

I awake with a tune I have not played for many a year between my ears and I let it slip forth on my tongue. It sounds in the world for the first time in a millennia and with it I make my vows. 

I will kill the laughing man who so resembles my dear old friend. I will hurt him for that which his ancestor did to me.

I stalk him after this, as I would have once a deer or some prey beast. The man is no better than his ancestor. 

He smiles and lies and talks his way out of things he's talked his way into. 

I hate him.

He reminds me of Eliud and yet I am comforted by his similarity to my old friend. He is not the same but at times I see poor Eliud in him. In his eyes and the muscles of his face. . . Perhaps I miss my friend though I do not want to. 

The man's name is John Constantine. Perhaps that is fitting. The constant one. The constant problem. I have known many men, both good and bad but I have never known one like Eliud. 

This one is close and yet he is older than Eliud ever was. Back then we did not live so long and thirty was elderly and decrepit. This man is past that and so older than my friend grew to be. 

He gambles the same and lies and flirts and at times I am amused by his antics yet each time I think of it I see Eliud again and my certainty is renewed. 

This man must die.

Chapter two is up!

#fanfiction #hellblazer #fanfic #comics #ao3 #archive of our own #ill put it on ff.net when its finished #john contstantine #chas chandler #renee chandler #immortals #immortality

[etrangersvoyageant]

Rewire, day 2

Here’s the skinny: I mostly stuck to one venue, where producers set a techno basement on fire. If Feltzer made me a lover, then Noise Diva and ojoo made me a fighter. More below.

Looking at the timetable a few weeks ago, I considered skipping this day. At that time, I had no tickets, so I didn’t feel cheated anyway. But then, I asked myself ‘what if you can get a cheap ticket and see Willem Feltzer? I liked last year’s album and maybe I should just check out who else is playing that venue.

The Grey Space in the middle is a location with many faces: I’ve seen movies there, visited art expos and heard live music and that’s there more organized. It has a good vibe and so there I was on Saturday.

The evening started with Willem Feltzer. He got all his bases, beginning to say down a calm dreamscape before pulling the audience underground. The set covered more genres than the album, but the same elements were present: chill, upbeat and playful. The music got a little darker and one could fantasize a system of tunnels, where Feltzer led his audience from place to place. These all had their own sound, yet the blend of music styles worked together well. And he finished with a club techno beat. For a moment, it felt like 3am in the morning, but it wasn’t even 9pm yet. All in all, an immaculate and well-thought-out set.

Next, a quick cross to a near-by church to experience my first bagpipe concert. Brighde Chambeul played rather long pieces, but the location improved the performance (although pews are not very hang-friendly). The combination of acoustics and the sparse purple and orangish gold lighting enriched the experience. One can imagine how people would get entranced in the old days. When she introduced the last song, she revealed another reason why she might be given this spot as she explained people used to play this piece to conjure the devil. Anyway, it was a bop and people were nodding along happily. Overall, a good performance.

Back to the Grey Space to see Noise Diva. An Amsterdam-based producer from Syria who’s rather versatile, but chose to play a noise set for Rewire. She started off with a speech, talking about the importance of female voices in the noise scene, how it’s been dictated by the white masculine creators (esp. in the 70s & 80s). She explained the thoughts behind the set she was about to play; how it was its debut, rather experimental and could have some odd transitions. Well, I didn’t notice the latter, caught as I was in the darkness of the music. At times, it was even brooding. Said had her eyes on her laptop and was bathed in red light, as she combined women chanting with sirens and drones. Only the ending was a bit odd, for a second it seemed she set up to deliver the final blow, but instead she thanked the audience and left, leaving myself and some others surprised. That was a shame, but it was still a fine performance in my book.

A quick breather and a chance to say hello to Feltzer before I went back down to the basement for ojoo. This DJ, born in Morocco and now based in Brussels, brought an exciting set filled with techno and its adjacent genres to conquer the dancefloor. The initial 10-15 minutes were calm before the storm as the beats were slowly pumped into the room, making people sway or march into place. However, the next phase really got the room dancing and moving – just like ojoo herself, bouncing behind the table, eyes forever locked onto the screen and mix panels. And although the room was never really full, I almost overheated stepping and swaying to the music. After 1,5 hours she was done and so was I. She remained in the room for a moment, greeting people, so I thanked her for her service and went home.

#rewire #live music diary #Willem Feltzer #Brìghde Chaimbeul #Noise Diva #ojoo

[palidoozy-art]

The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.

Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.

Obvious CoS spoilers below

IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.

So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.

This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.

Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.

But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.

VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.

His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.

He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.

He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good

Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.

RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.

I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.

Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.

Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.

One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.

anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.

i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."

#palidoozy rambles #curse of strahd #curse of strahd spoilers #cos #cos spoilers #WARNING IT LONG #I HAVE MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THESE THREE CHARACTERS

[razorblade180-heated]

Yoimiya and Kazuha fluffy smut to celebrate you gettin her 😏

Festive reunion

[Warning, it’s smut, duh…]

Speechless, it was never a word in Yoimiya’s vocabulary. It also was the last word anyone would use to describe her. On a normal day she was the chatter box of any conversation bringing zest and joy to any topic. However, today was a bit different. The hot blooded extrovert was had prepared herself to meet tons of new people now that she had been summoned to fight alongside Aether and his companions. Yoimiya had failed to realize one of them was Kazuha. It wasn’t like she forgot him. Far from it. There wasn’t a day since his departure that Yoimiya didn’t think about him and his flowery words that contrasted yet complimented her straight forward thinking. Looks like the feelings were mutual, because the wandering samurai was showing a more direct side of himself she’d never seen. With her hand in his, Kazuha led her to his temporary home inside a magical teapot.

Yoimiya couldn’t help but blush. She had only just showed up! Not only that, but he had gotten permission to perform the wishing by himself, creating this alone time. What are the chances the others knew his intentions to begin with? Oh her poor heart couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment!

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? What’s up?”

“Your face, it’s bright red.”

Yeah no kidding! Anyone’s would be in this situation. Being swept into romance moments after showing up somewhere was a lot to process for her.

“I’m fine. Hehe Just a little hot outside and you know…stuff.” She smiled sheepishly, fidgeting a bit.

Kazuha gave his own gentle smile as he blushed lightly. “Guess I’m going a little fast huh? Sorry, we take things slo-”

“No! Uhh I mean…it’s okay, really. Actually I’m extremely flattered. I just never expected this as my welcome present. I was expecting more of a meet and greet.” She giggled, “but…this is nice too. Now I don’t have to wonder if you missed me.”

“Days didn’t feel nearly as bright without you.”

Great. Her face might as be as red as her vision. Her heart fluttered each step they took until they finally walked into the modest home Kazuha made form himself. It was obvious he had found interest in Liyue aesthetic, except a fireplace in the living room that felt slightly out of place, yet cozy nonetheless.

Yoimiya turned around to close the door behind her. The sudden feeling of Kazuha’s arms wrapping around her waist gave her a jolt. The young man held her close and Yoimiya could feel the heat from his face tickle her back as he pressed his head against it.

“Forgive me, but it’s hard to control myself. It’s…been quite some time, hasn’t it?

“Yeah, it has.” She could feel his lips kiss her nape, grazing her neck and nipping on pale flesh until a red mark was left behind. Yoimiya closed her eyes and exposed more of her neck for him to have, gasping from contact. She leaned forward slightly, pushing her butt against his pelvis for friction. Her left breast was soon claimed right after, his fingers slipping through the bindings.

“Mmmm Kazuha~” Another moan escaped her when Kazuha’s other hand made its way under her yukata, making short work of those bindings as well. The flustered pyro bit her lip when she felt two digits slip inside. Yoimiya braced her arms against the door while she let her lover take control.

Kazuha could feel her grip around his fingers and he ran them over her most sensitive spots. “To think you’re already this wet?”

“I missed you too ya know!?” She blurted out, blushing at her confession. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Bend over more for me.”

Yoimiya did just that. Straight forward Kazuha was something she didn’t know she needed in her life. He removed his fingers from her body and bunched up her clothes. Her face grew hotter feeling the bindings on her fall off her, exposing her body. Fingers gripped her plump rear and the chill of one running down her slit would’ve made her yelp if it wasn’t for what happened next. The heat of Kazuha’s breath.

“Kazuha? What- Aaah!”

He slipped his tongue inside her dripping core, lapping up her essence and getting lost in her scent. Both his hands help support her legs as they trembled from his assault. The sound of her moans only spurred him to completely devour her.

“KAZUHA!!” She yelled, moaning heavily. She could feel his tongue flatten out and swirl around to rake every spot. “I-I said no teasing!” His fingers dug into her damp thighs as he continued to eat her out. Yoimiya’s body instinctively bent over more to allow him deeper reach. Her moans turned to panting. Kazuha wasn’t gonna let her go. The sound of her own arousal and his dramatic slurping noises only turned her on more like he knew it would.

Yoimiya dropped her head and look to the floor. That’s when she caught sight of Kazuha’s position, on his knees and his length already freed. The member was already hard and dripping precum in anticipation. Was it always that big? In a few short moments, that was going to be…just thinking about it made her mind go blank and body tense.

Her first orgasm hit hard, making her scream as Kazuha continued tasting the wave of pleasure that came with her orgasm, until he licked up the majority. Kazuha stood up, wiping his face and catching his breath as he admired the sight of Yoimiya trembling and still bent over. Her skin had gotten redder and a thin layer of sweat had started.

“You’re so gorgeous…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear that while I’m this.” She muttered. Yoimiya felt embarrassed enough to just die! They’ve been intimate before, but knowing Kazuha was seeing her like this was always going to be too much to handle.

“Do you wanna stay like that?”

She nodded, “looking at you right now would be too much.”

Kazuha could see the tips of her ears turn bright red. He wanted to listen, but found himself denying the mercy.

Yoimiya was ready for him to continue until she felt felt his hand on her chest raise her up enough for his face to come over her right shoulder. Yet again the girl was speechless upon staring into his eyes and seeing his playful smirk.

“I missed all of you. That includes your eyes.” Not holding back, Kazuha captured her lips.

Yoimiya felt her heart pound and head go into a haze. She openly invited his mouth to conquer her own. Not like she was really using it right now anyways. The heat of his member pressed against her entrance and with a few hip movements, slipped inside. Yoimiya whimpered from the feeling of being spread open so quickly. Kazuha’s hips begin smacking against her rear. Whimpers turned to yelps between the patient kiss. How long had it been since she felt full? Was Kazuha always this warm? Was his grasp on her this good? All these things made Yoimiya kiss him harder, wanting him to continue this assertiveness.

Kazuha was in no better shape. Distance had only strengthened their yearning. Kazuha added his own gasps and grown into the mix. Yoimiya had a grip on him that made his hips move on their own. The heat and wetness of her core made him ache in the best way. Their lips parted to only paint and whisper sweet nothings as their bodies gave into pleasure.

“Kazu~ more…more~”

“You’re everything when you beg like this.”

“Mmmph~ meanie. I-aahh…want another kiss.”

Kazuha obeyed, giving her what she craved without question. Yoimiya was always cute, but the blush across her face brought it to another level. Kazuha could only be weak to it.

“Yoi, I’m…”

“Me too.” She gasped, reaching the end of her rope. Yoimiya stole another, longer kiss; moaning heavily as she came.

Kazuha could only thrust a few more times before her tightness overwhelmed him. He gave one last thrust, cumming inside her. He pulled from the kiss to let her breathe while he peppered her ear with kisses.

Yoimiya’s entire body shuttered upon feeling his warmth shoot inside. The little nips and pecks Kazuha gave her made her giggle, putting a smile on het face as she continued to catch her breath.

“Kazu, that tickles hehe.”

“Now how am I supposed to stop with you calling me that, Yoi?” He teased, continued his kisses. He slowly lowered both of them down to the floor. Yoimiya held his face and the two were finally face to face properly. He smiled at the girl who smiled back with kind eyes and a pinkish red blush. “Your face is more beautiful than any sunset.”

Yoimiya couldn’t help but avert her gaze briefly before staring back. “It’s dangerous to spoil a girl with talk like that. Especially after what we just did.”

“Heh, I can’t name a moment more perfect to spoil someone than this.” Kazuha kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad to be here.” She put her arms over shoulders and around his neck. “More kisses please.” Her heart danced so much Yoimiya thought she was at a fireworks festival. “Let’s love each other here a little longer.”

xxxxx

“Hello everyone, I’m Yoimiya!” She said to her new teammates, placing her hands on her hips and glowing like the sun; her time with Kazuha only adding to her radiance.

Many waved happily upon her entrance, while I few people like Aether, Beidou, and even Hu Tao noticed the marks on Yoimiya’s neck. They looked at Kazuha with a cheeky grin he did his best to ignore, but even laid back samurai couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

#genshin impact #kazuha kaedehara #yoimiya naganohara

[diyeoracha]

IwaOi Fanfiction Masterlist with 90+ Works

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 290 bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi, Haikyuu S4 part 2, and @haikyuuweek2020​ (Day 7 - Free Choice), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite Iwaoi fics in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic for those works! Works are split up into genres such as alternate universe (either not childhood friends or set on Earth), angst, canon compliant (post timeskip with spoilers), canon divergent (childhood friends but divergent timeline post timeskip), high school, and university au

Formatting update: Jan 13, 2021 (spacing is wonky on the mobile app!).

Fic update: Jan 7, 2021

This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! I really do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos! Please reblog and like so more people can enjoy

Titles marked with (♡) are my absolute favorites and there’s a chance I cried while reading them but otherwise they’re in alphabetical order

Alternate Universe

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.” Reincarnation AU

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.” Royalty AU

Built a Temple in Me

Word count: 55k

Summary: Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast. God Oikawa AU

Quote: It fills his heart anyway, heals the hole in his chest that had been bleeding since he cut Tooru so forcibly from him.

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends AU

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Quote: Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll."

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there. Modern AU

Desperado

Word count: 82k

Summary: Clearly Iwaizumi had a checkered past. Kyoutani has never asked about it, nor has Iwaizumi ever brought it up. He knows it’s a sore spot for his mentor, just like the gorgeous Monte Carlo he keeps hidden away is, so he leaves it alone. Out on the streets, you learn a little something about when to turn a blind eye in order to survive; Kyoutani knows better than most to leave the past of men like Iwaizumi well alone. Heist AU

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet. Superhero AU

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying. “It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.” Edge of Tomorrow AU

In Defense of Reptiles

Word count: 9k

Summary: In their seventh year, Oikawa is chosen to be the Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Iwaizumi suffers. Harry Potter AU

Quote: “You are so spoiled,” Iwaizumi tells him, but lets him shuffle down until Iwaizumi’s hand is now running through Oikawa’s hair instead of rubbing his shoulder.

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru. Harry Potter AU

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime. Prison AU

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul. Pacific Rim AU

Quote: Quiet settles between them softly, like the warm pressure of the blanket, or Iwaizumi's fingers curling to lightly hold the fabric of Oikawa's shirt.

The Long Light

Word count: 36k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there. Harry Potter AU

Magic Man

Word count: 12k

Summary: Oikawa is named the most desirable wizard in France. Iwaizumi is not impressed. Harry Potter AU

Quote: You keep saying partner or them. Is it rude of me to ask you to clarify?

Meet me in the grey area

Word count: 24k

Summary: Set in a hero/villain AU with Iwa as our trusty hero and Oikawa as our charming villain

Saw You at the Fish Market

Word count: 14k

Summary: In other words, Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

♡♡ (sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow. Historical fantasy AU

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.). Escort AU

♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right? A/B/O AU

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed. Astronaut AU

Stop the Time

Word count: 10k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Hospital AU

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself. Yakuza AU

These Flowers I Stole For You

Word count: 3k

Summary: ANBU don't cry. They tear themselves apart, bit by bit, and then they stitch themselves whole again. Naruto AU

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally. “You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.” Detective AU

Page 305 of 304

Word count: 53k

Summary: “…she called you ‘papa’,” iwaizumi managed. oikawa just stared for a moment longer before relaxing in a smile. “yeah. cute, right? but you can call me ‘daddy’ if you want.”

Temporary fix

Word count: 12k

 Summary: “And you’ve shampooed his hair how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” A/B/O AU

Tokyo Boy

Word count: 16k

Summary: He has feelings for Iwaizumi Hajime, who probably has casual lovers just like him in every major city he visits on business. Oikawa is just his Tokyo Boy, just another pit-stop on Iwaizumi’s travels. Businessman AU

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Watch Me

Word count: 32k

Summary: Oikawa's a cam model. It’s been a month since Iwaizumi first spoke in his chat. When they meet in person, things get complicated. Cam model AU

Angst

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school,     Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The     next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart

Quote: “ ‘it’s just—I’m     just trying so hard—’‘What, and I’m not?’

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Canon Compliant

Are You Listening?

Word count: 4k

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

Quote: “Iwa-chan, watch out for the log—!” Oikawa looked on in horror as his best friend tripped and fell flat on his face.

Edge of the balcony

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.

How can this loser ever win

Word count: 2k

Summary: everyone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no idea

♡♡♡Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

maybe we could be enough

Word count: 9k

Summary: iwaizumi hums in reply as the car goes silent, frank ocean crooning from the speakers. they stop at a red light when iwaizumi feels eyes at the side of his face, and turns to look at oikawa.

Most people never even get a single high school rival

Word count: 5k

Summary: Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer.

Primavera

Word count: 8k

Summary: They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Quote: Did you know that distance is only me, growing towards you?

♡♡♡rest on your laurels

Word count: 4k

Summary: In Iwaizumi’s heart of hearts, untouched by time, they are young and alive, burning with the hearth of home and bright as winter light. Unbreakable. Invincible.

♡♡♡Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

‘Til Infinity

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey,” he says, “that cloud looks kind of like a dick.”

Quote: “I got you ladybug”

♡♡♡ You Set Off a Dream In Me

Word count: 15k

Summary: In which Oikawa is 41 and ready to retire. He's at the top of his game and ready to find a new challenge. Turns out his new challenge is pretty familiar. It's high school, round 2.

Quote: A past with an Iwaizumi that wasn’t on the opposite side of the net, monsters on all sides, guiding a setter that had lived the dream left behind in the ruins of Tooru’s past self.

Canon Divergent

a world alone

Word count: 60k

Summary: Iwaizumi has his medical books on the musculoskeletal system. Oikawa has his research papers on parallel universes. It isn't until much, much later that they realize they have each other.

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Kapan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Quote: There are only two things that have ever broken Oikawa Tooru’s heart. Iwa-chan would say Tooru has no heart to break, but that’s simply untrue.

Count your blessings, it goes 1,2,3, me

Word count: 7k

Summary: He's unsettled by the undefined boundaries of their relationship so it's all his luck that he accidentally wins three wishes to be granted just for him, and all that comes to mind is Iwaizumi.

Quote: Now, as an adult, past convenience of circumstance and the haze of hormonal lust, exactly none of his feelings have worn off

♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

♡days fall away

Word count:17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Quote: “You and Tooru,” he begins, and then shrugs. “I was just thinking, you look at each other a lot.” And he walks away, leaving Hajime winded, and sort of aching, somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever that means.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3 Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties. Doctor AU

♡♡In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Quote: A flare of pride lit in Oikawa as he watched Iwaizumi's eyes crinkle with mirth and in that yawning second, it bloomed into a warmth that bordered on a burn, forcing a bittersweet inhale.

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Quote: Iwaizumi blushes even more. “That you’re here, I mean. I’m happy that you’re here. With me.”

♡♡♡Mint

Word count: 19k

Summary: It's the December after Iwaizumi’s last year in university when Tokyo welcomes him with a new ad campaign for Bright Days toothpaste, and Oikawa Tooru—fresh off a run at the 2016 Summer Olympics—has decided to grace the city with his signature grin, a flip of his wayfarer sunglasses, and the most irrepressible tag line for the signboard above.

Quote: "To be able to tell him, in the new year."  This comes under Oikawa's breath, so low that Matsukawa and Hanamaki can't hear, and the game continues.

Six-Month Lover

Word count: 89k

Summary: Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Special Relativity

Word count: 22k

Summary: Time moves differently for people in different inertial reference frames. Oikawa goes on a two-year exploratory mission in space. Iwaizumi's been waiting for a lot longer than that.

♡♡sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count:     19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Quote: Oikawa’s grin in  the last set of the morning’s game. Oikawa’s grin as they sat on their asses on a golf course. Oikawa’s grin when they were in college. When they were in high school. When they were twenty-two, seventeen, fifteen, twelve, six.

High School

Bet On It

Word count: 13k

Summary: Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Quote: The whole instant-compliance thing was seriously creeping him out. Oikawa from a week ago would have made a crack about how if he'd wanted something cold, he could have just put his face on Hajime's shoulder.

Betweens

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iwaizumi is asleep in the club room. Oikawa is blindingly awake in the club room. The sun moves slowly across the sky, and Iwaizumi’s skin is gold underneath it. Oikawa watches the changing shadows on Iwaizumi’s face and thinks about nothing in particular.

Don’t think too much

Word count: 6k

Summary:  In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a confusing, drunken encounter and then deal with the (sticky) consequences.

Quote: As soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Oikawa did what he always did:  exactly the opposite of what Hajime wanted

Gates

Word count: 12k

Summary: The day after their graduation ceremony, they drive to the beach at Shirahama. Iwaizumi drives, because it’s his car, and as he has told Oikawa on multiple occasions, he’d rather die than let him touch the wheel.

Quote: ‘Yeah,’ he says, because they’re on a beach, and they’re supposed to be on a metaphorical journey, and they’re supposed to be growing up, and completing rites of passage, so it’s honesty, today - just for today, at least.

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Quote: But Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa laughing with that girl in the low light of the gym, a particular kind of quiet intimacy that Iwaizumi’s only ever read about in books hovering in the air, and all it makes him feel is small and petty and spiteful.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Make sure you cross the line

Word count: 4k

Summary: With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

Quote: He’s been asking Iwaizumi to go out with him every single day this past week, increasingly panicked about getting his time and attention now that they’re nearing the end of this season of their lives.

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation. That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

static

Word count: 6k

Summary: Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

Quote: It's fate that brought them together and choice that keeps them that way. The closest description in Hajime’s vocabulary is partners, but only because Oikawa taught him what its true definition is.

Told before and told again

Word count: 3k

Summary: This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

Quote: When Oikawa lets out a long, heavy breath, Iwaizumi looks up at him and frowns, and flings a towel over Oikawa’s head to cover his face. Then, he tugs, once, on Oikawa’s fingers, and leads him down the hallway, Oikawa walking quietly in tow.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Quote: Because Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa nearly all his life and never felt anything more than vague affection usually followed by intense irritation for him. But then suddenly at eighteen years old and nearly two weeks into a very badly planned road trip, it’s like someone flipped a switch somewhere inside Iwaizumi

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

reassemble it

Word count: 15k

Summary: When Tooru was six years old, he discovered—unbeknownst to him at the time—two of the most important things in his life: volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. It was ironic that he had stumbled upon them hand in hand—quite literally, too.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Quote: Iwaizumi’s expression right now is less terrified than it used to get back then, but he’s tight-lipped with concern, and his broad body blocks out other passengers as if their stares might be a danger to Tooru too.

University AU

An Archaeology of Affection

Word count: 23k

Summary: For Hajime, it is a riddle and simultaneously so evident. It fills his chest, surging like water, paints heat up his neck. In retrospect, it eats up his days, makes them its own until it feels like his heart has always been in his throat at the smile thrown over Oikawa’s shoulder, the stilling of his fingers on Hajime’s sleeve.

closure

Word count: 22k

Summary: In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one. Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Quote: “On the first day of his university career, Oikawa Tooru walks into his dorm, spots his assigned roommate, and turns one hundred and eighty degrees and walks right back out. He dials a familiar phone number - the first one he ever memorized - and starts complaining before Iwaizumi even gets the chance to say hello. “Iwa-chan,” he says, “tell me why Ushiwaka is in my dorm room.”

♡♡♡galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

Quote: I AM A HEADASS

Hands to yourself

Word count: 11k

Summary: He missed his parents, and he missed Takeru, and Takeru's badly behaved puppy. He missed Aoba Jousai, and he missed the volleyball team. He even missed Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just a little.

Home, and how we made ours

Word count: 3k

Summary: “No, I like it here.” There’s a rustling as Iwaizumi shifts, inching closer. “I like it here, as in this crappy apartment—with you.”

Quote: “Do your fights end up being like—you know, about actual things and then extending into toddler days and suddenly you’re accusing Iwaizumi of kissing the girl you used to like in preschool?”

in progress to you

Word count: 6k

Summary: The eventuality of Oikawa and Iwaizumi falling toward each other is dramatically lackluster. Still, it's a process to go through.

Quote: “But what if you didn’t eat my pudding all the time?” Iwaizumi asks flatly, ignoring the way Oikawa is slapping his thigh to get out of his chokehold. “Do you think I buy them for you, huh? I buy them for me, you turd.”

Like we’re made of starlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: (a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

Ninety nine percent

Word count: 14k

Summary: more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Quote: Their ace was lining up for the ball, knees bent and arm pulled back, just as Tooru tosses the ball……to Hajime.

no sleep in the city

Word count: 7k

Summary: Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Quote: “I was only telling Hanamaki literally yesterday that your personality isn’t as vile as before,” Iwaizumi informs, slightly stiff from the way Oikawa’s got an arm looped through his own. “Why do you make me such a liar to people I care about?”

Out of nowhere

Word count: 8k

Summary: They move in together after graduation and it's doing weird things to Iwaizumi's heart. He's a little in denial about it.

Quote: Oikawa excitedly ran up to him when Iwaizumi came home with groceries the other day. Not about the food but just to say how boring everything is when Iwaizumi's not there, eyes shining, and he couldn't meet his gaze after from blushing down to his neck. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

♡♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Quote: “I’m in love with you,” Oikawa tells him three days after they graduate junior high, head in his lap and hands gently folded over his chest and completely and totally unconcerned that he’d just shattered Hajime’s world.

Terpischore

Word count: 38k

Summary: They’d ended up going to different universities, Tooru and he. The distance was good for them. The confession Hajime dropped in both their laps wasn’t. That’s how it’d ended – a lifetime of friendship crumbled to dust in the space of five minutes. (Or, a lesson in learning to move on from things you can't have, in finding old loves in new ways and in understanding that life is never truly simple... till it is.)

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

these foolish things (remind me of you)

Word count: 3k

Summary: Oikawa helps Iwaizumi move into his new college dorm.

Quote: He’s desperate for something to happen. It must show on his face because Iwaizumi blushes and looks away. The thing is, Oikawa always looks at him like this when Iwaizumi isn’t paying attention.

They say it rains diamonds on Jupiter

Word count: 35k

Summary: "You're in love with him. "Hajime considers denying it. "Yeah," he says instead.

Quote: “Share the weight of your feelings with me, Hajime wants to beg when he hears Tooru's first hitched breath. Let me carry some of your burdens”

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Undecipherable

Word count: 4k

Summary: "Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

Quote: Because for all the bravado, for all the flaunting Oikawa does, he wants Hajime by his side, and no one else.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Where you are (I’ll be)

Word count: 6k

Summary: Theirs is a love that starts out like a seed and it takes two sets of hands tending it for a shoot to appear. There are no dramatic declarations of love, only a pair of hands that find each other again and again and again.

Quote: Oikawa broke off into giggles as Hajime slowed the descent of his hand from a slap to the back of Oikawa’s head to a gentle ruffle of the taller boy’s hair

♡♡with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

Your love is sunlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.

Quote: But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

#haikyuuweek2020 #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #i spent more time on this than all of my edits combined pls appreciate this

[st-just]

Semi-coherent Thoughts on the Poppy War Series

(Because I really need to start forcing myself to write semi-consistently again)

So I’ll say outright that I actually liked the series quite a bit, which does mean I actually got engaged and invested enough to start turning it over and picking it apart in my head after I finished it. So, like, this is probably going to come across as more negative overall than my actual opinions of the books.

Anyway, first off I really do adore Rin as a protagonist (I’d say ‘heroine’, but, well, no). Now partially this is because I always love even minimally sympathetic morally grey (..grey like coal soot, in this case) protagonists. But she’s just also such a complete garbage fire of a person, it’s kind of endearing. Well, that’s a bit callous – her entire personality is more or less a conflict between different kinds of unhealthy responses to powerlessness and trauma. Be she’s also just such a mess, and when she really starts leaning into delusions of grandeur you can’t help but root for her and hope things do actually turn out okay, regardless of how many fivers of blood she’s currently fantasizing about creating.

A big part of that is just how thoroughly awful the entire setting is, and how terrible everyone in it are, of course. Like, there are basically exactly three developed character in the entire trilogy who are unambiguously at least mostly good people (Chen, probably Venka, specifically the amnesiac and semi-delusional version of Jiang, but that’s being generous), and the fact that they stick around with Rin right to the end kind of puts that into doubt, honestly. Beyond that – almost every family has negligent or abusive parents, and literally every political figure is a bloody-handed tyrant ruling through violence and fear. The Hesperians are racist imperialists convinced they have a divine mandate to conquer the world, the Mugenese are every horror story from the IJA during WW2 translated to a pre-industrial fantasy setting, the ruling elite of Nikara are so many racist, scheming, power-hungry snakes with no concerns except their own position....

And, part and parcel with how terrible the setting is, Kuang does an incredible job of making all the worst things Rin does (until the final act, anyway) incredibly cathartic and badass and fun-in-a-fucked-up-way to read. There’s a terrible sort of awe while she turns the main islands of not!Japan into a pyroclastic hellscape. And whenever she gets a chance to enact any of her numerous revenges on some of the many people who abused and betrayed her it’s always poetic, in a Count-of-Monte-Cristo sort of way, and so kind of sickly compelling, even beyond it being some of the only times Rin’s really hopeful and happy. (Also, there are fun villainous monologues and quippy post-murder one-liners!)

Also, all forms of love are a terrible idea 100% of the time and is only going to end in at least one of the parties dead, abused, or (more or less literally) killing themselves in order to keep up with the other/earn their approval/try to keep them together. (I mean, Rin mostly had horrible taste in men, but Chen wasn’t able to stay mad at her for longer than a few months even after the whole ‘genocide’ thing, which he’s just about the only person to react to with any horror whatsoever. And look at how that ended up working out for him, so-)

I’m sure comparing grimdark fantasy to A Song of Ice And Fire is thoroughly out of fashion by now, but the overall perspective really did strike me as incredibly similar to Martin’s, a lot of the time. ‘Legitimate’ power and ‘lawful’ authority are ultimately nothing but polite fictions maintained by violence, terror and brutal oppression. War is a hell suffered most keenly by civilians with the misfortune to live and die in the middle of it, and least of all by the people with the power who actually start and end them. A flawed and unequal peace is very often preferable to dragging everything to hell with you as you die for the sake of freedom. And so on.

Now, to start the nitpicking – this is entirely personal and aesthetic, but it was kind of annoying how each of the first two books ended in moments of megalomaniac grandeur and terrifying empowerment, and then the next book started with a timeskip of things having gone to shit and her back under someone else’s thumb, and then a solid majority of the text is spent getting manipulated, betrayed, and finally crawling and clawing her way back out to the same point (both emotionally and in terms of independence/vision) that she had been at the previous book’s climax.

This isn’t anything even close to unique to TPW, of course – everything going to shit between the end of one story and the start of the sequel is kind of endemic to a lot of genres, really. And it is frankly incredibly in character for Rin to go through cycles flipping between resentment at being manipulated and used, and desperately craving authority figures to tell her what she should do and give her validation as valuable or useful. Still a bit annoying to read, though.

I’m sure it’s more me than the books – not like they didn’t put in the effort – but I could just never get really invested in the whole enemies-to-almost-lovers-to-enemies-again-to-? Thing with Nezha. Like, he’s interesting in that you can do a 180 perspective flip and he’d clearly be just as suitable a protagonist as Rin is, and his life’s very sad and everything. But, like, we get a front row seat to Rin’s internal monologue, and she gets thirsty for plenty of terrible men (and one awful woman), the only thing that makes Nezha special is that he’s not at least twice her age. So I never really got nearly as emotionally invested in them as the books seemed to expect me to. Which does kind of hurt the whole final act of book three.

Speaking of – okay, the ending isn’t awful or anything, but it is kind of disappointing in being exactly what you would expect it to be, as far as Rin’s character arc goes? Which might be just because I was already primed to compare this to ASOIF and she just literally pulls a Daenerys (fire-aligned vengeance/justice character with revolutionary impulses and an autocratic sensibility is willing to burn down the world in the process of freeing it, goes mad with power and paranoia, needs to be put down for the good of the country), but still. Her reading Venka throwing her to the ground to avoid an assassination attempt as a betrayal and burning her to death before she realized what was happening was just really heavy handed, you know? Same with turning on Kitay, who at this point is her actual literal soulmate. (Also sad in a broader sense, because those two are like literally two of the only characters in the entire series I’d actually peg as worthy of/capable of being trusted with political power.)

The specifics aside, I’m a miserable enough person to appreciate how unsatisfying the actual resolution at the end of the book is – imperialism wins! Literally no choice but to sign those unequal treaties and hope you’re eventually able to grow strong enough to force them out! Everything is the same as before this forty-year cycle of wars except much, much worse! - but yeah, I really just don’t actually care about Nezha enough as a character for it to really land. Also Kitay and Venka deserved better, even if literally no one else did.

Anyway, yeah, good series. Would recommend if you like the genre and can stomach all the, well, everything.

#books #the poppy war #the dragon republic #the burning god #r. f. kuang #book review #in this essay I will #this is theoretically a writing blog

[acciocriativity]

Tetrachromat II || Harry Potter

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader

Summary: How would Cedric react when he discovers your little superpower?  

Word Count: 1,5k

N / A: Tetrachromatism or tetrachromacy comes from the mixture of two words of Greek origin,"tetra"means "four" and "Chroma" which means "color". A tetrachromat person has 4 cell cones, instead of 3, which is more common and this makes him sensitive to a wider color spectrum. 

Part I

 It was exactly two weeks ago that Cedric and I were going out, as I worked as a teacher and he was trying to follow his father’s steps at the Ministry, we agreed to meet on the weekends and in the meantime we exchanged several letters. 

Today is a Friday and I was expecting the last father to pick up her daughter so I could lock the classroom and go home. 

- Miss Wright, look at my drawing! It’s you! - The smiling girl got up from the plastic chair and came running excitedly to my table. 

- It is beautiful my love, you will be an incredible artist in the future - I replied with a smile, giving a brief pat on the top of her tiny head before she waddled back to her place. 

I took one last look at the stick pink woman before folding it carefully, but something caught my attention before I put the paper in my folder, it was as if my world had been filled with colors all at once.  

- Cedric? - before I knew it, my legs guided me to the half-open door, where he had knocked a few seconds after I recognized his presence.

My mind passed through a whirlwind of thoughts but my mouth did not open once. 

- I didn't think I was going to surprise you at that point - the sincere smile remained on his face - your father brought me, lucky me that he was home at this time - I could see a different gleam in his eyes when he looked at my dear student. 

She was looking at us since the door opened, her curiosity would not allow her to miss a second of the scene that passed before her eyes. 

- Is that your boyfriend, Miss Wright? He's more handsome than I expected - I felt the redness take over my cheeks and it didn't seem to matter to them. 

- Cedric Diggory at your service, and what's your name, miss? - he said as he approached the round table where the little girl was still seated, and then he held out his hand towards her, leaning about her height.  

- Marie - her little hand found his and her face was not far from mine, his charm could even conquer a stone and worst of all, he was aware of it. 

- It is a pleasure to meet you Marie - he straightened his posture and walked slowly to the nearest wall, decorated with various drawings and activities that we had done during this year, analysing them carefully. 

My agitation was gradually fading and again the silence reigned in the room for a few seconds, someone else was present with a knock on the door. 

- Daddy! - the man’s face lit up when he saw that little ray of sunlight running to embrace him and for a few seconds I witnessed a kind of love that is not found anywhere. 

- Hi my love - he picked her up with only one hand while the other was busy holding a black briefcase with no details - I'm sorry for the delay, Miss Wright, it won't happen twice.

- No problem Mrs. Jones, I understand that sometimes work is really complicated. Have a nice day and see you tomorrow Marie - I waved and the last thing I saw was her little hands waving back before the door was closed. 

I noticed a movement behind me and then I remembered that I was not alone as usual, when I turned around I found Cedric sitting in my chair, dedicating his attention to the drawing in his hands. 

- You forgot to mention that you worked with extremely adorable children - he didn't look up to speak to me, still focused on the paper.

- I am quite sure that I wrote this at some point, although most of the time it is the complete opposite. You were lucky today - I replied calmly approaching him with a small smile. 

- Does this mean that I should come again ?? - his hands went around my waist and brought me closer to him, even though he was still sitting on the chair. 

- Hmmm, considering that the whole class will end up knowing that anyway, why not? You didn't tell me you were good with children - I said as my fingers roamed through his locks.

- I didn't know it myself, it seems that it is a new talent discovered. You can make me your assistant any of these days - his expression was calm and satisfied, at a point I hadn't seen yet.      

- I'm going to think of a way for the coordinator don't deny this idea, but for now, we have to go Ced - I spoke seriously but I didn't try to get out of that hug, which is one of the best hugs I ever had the chance to receive. 

- Doesn't someone have to come clean before that? - His voice was muffled because his face was pressed against my belly while his arms remained firm around me. 

- The class is spotless, so it's not necessary, but I'll only be able to move if you let me go… Cedric! - I laughed softly as soon as I saw his expression of disappointment but he soon let me go. 

It was already around 4 o'clock, the sun was covered by clouds in the sky and a cool wind gently blew the leaves from the trees. I didn't realize that Cedric had stopped walking, as I was still enjoying the calm until I heard him. 

- How did you know I was at the door? - I turned around with a frown, finally noticing the distance between us.

- What do you mean? - questioning was my first instinct but soon the realization passed through my face, so he had heard me. 

- You guessed it was me at the door, how did you do that? You are not secretly a witch, are you? - his long steps soon reached where I was, his gaze never left my face. 

- Well, I already thought about that possibility but unfortunately not. I was waiting for the moment to tell you that. It's a little difficult to explain ... - Ced remained silent but took my hand.

- I have a rather special feature, not the talent of guessing things, but I see the world in a different way - I took a deep breath before continuing - the colors work differently for people like me.

- And how is this related to the fact that you see through the walls? - the amusement in his voice made me smile.

- I saw your colors first, this is the hard part to explain but basically everything here has color around itself, including both of us - I was unsure of what to expect from him, considering that many people considered me a liar or a freak when I told them this fact about me.  

- Really?? This is like a superpower! Why didn’t you mention it before? This sounds pretty cool - his face went through several emotions at the same time, but none close to what I expected. 

- Well, not many people know about it, I didn't know what your reaction would be - without trying, I was smiling broadly. 

- And what are my colors? It would be quite ironic if one of them is yellow - again his right arm found its way to my shoulders and we started walking again. 

- I've never seen this before, but you're all of them Ced. It was the first thing that caught my attention about you - the surprise on your face was evident and he smirked. 

- All of them? Well, that explains why you barely managed to take your eyes off me when we first met - and then I stopped walking. 

- What?? Certainly not, I remember the exact opposite of that - I crossed my arms looking at him and he had the audacity to laugh

- It is so easy to provoke you, come on missy anger, we have a date to go to - he took my hand and guided me far away from there.  

Later on, while we were eating, this topic returned and I confessed that people's negative reaction had made me extremely insecure and so, whenever possible, I tried to live like a normal person would. 

- You will never be normal but the way you see the world makes you more beautiful in my eyes and in the eyes of those who care about you too. It can be difficult but let's focus on that - he told me with his usual sweet voice and loving eyes. 

And in that moment, for the first time, I completely understood why he was a rainbow to me. 

Harry Potter Masterlist

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #fred weasley #harry potter #imagine harry potter #george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry james potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory fanfiction #hermione granger #sirius black #remus lupin #luna lovegood

[psychemeanscure]

PART 3 { Thanks Google Search for quantum physics meaning reference though I revise it for a bit. And Google translations for the Spanish words, though I’m not so sure by its accuracy. Lol! that’s all, okay bye! happy reading~ keke}

A gleam yet aesthetic lights of his Casino Hotel welcomed them as they both enter its futuristic hall, screaming with dominance. Greeted by his people while passing through the buzzing of gamblers of any kind, frivolously wasting every cents and ownership they have. The sea of expensive liquors, the sound of tokens and chips, the chime of jackpots and failures of losses. How she hated the sight of it and now she’s just one step closer to face the reason behind it. But only to flinch from another sight she can never get used to.

The chromic face of Jang Taeyoung endlessly playing to his initially Led TV. As she eyed him with abhorrence. “Do you really have to shout that cloy face of yours around this Casino? Tss.” she finally blurts it out while his usual arrogance immersed. “I’m the signature of my Casino myself, what can I do?” and the only thing she could do is cringe. “No. You are simply a narcissist yourself.” a hasty laugh was heard by him, then. 

“Come on, Honey. You’ve watched it many times yet you only learn it just now? I mean, who wouldn’t be? I’m enormously gorgeous man.” She hissed. Uninterested by his boasting but vexed from what he called. “Shut that Joder Honey of yours. I’m not a bee! Por favor.” decides to walk ahead of him instead, better than engaging his nonsense callings. 

He catches her pace anyway. As he stops by an open wine cellar, getting one type from a rack. “Should we have brought a champagne for him? This Berlin drink looks fi---“

His suggestion was abruptly halted, leaving the wine he’s holding put off on a center table just beside him. For he was dragged by her through the corner side of the cellar. Enough to spot that someone she did not expect. Him, being pressed on a column of wine bottles, trapped by his panicking volatile. 

“Qué coño? What does that bomber prosecutor even do here?!” her scoffing whispers came then, eyes still on the enemy’s sight. The man they called Mr. Kim who has a very suspicious guts on her. “Oh. Him? He’s the frequent sniffing fox I’m telling you about. Craving to catch you obviously.” As much as he’s enjoying their position, he had no choice either but to diligently answer her distresses.

Multiple curses start to blab from her mouth nonstop as the so- called fox is now nearly passing their path. Till a cunning idea came after him, sneakily touch her bare back. “You do aware that I am fully attracted to you, aren’t you?” and she knows what he possibly wanted her to do, that she’s now secretly cursing herself for wearing the said garment. Too late to regret her thoughtless moves, mind still stuck with hesitations that her stressed eyes keep shuffling between the taming man in front of her and the persistent enemy who’s eager to catch her no matter what.

“Mierda! I hate you.” Her firm remark before she finally gives in. Swiftly taking his collar to changing their position and crash her lips to his awaiting mouth. She knew she’s going to pay for it. But she’s left with no choice. That sniffing fox would never get tired to investigate her, and to be seen from the Casino is the least she would do. That in between the kisses, she intendedly opens her eyes to sight the prosecutor’s stands.        

Not until a sudden moan escaped from her lips that she had to close her eyes by his hungry kisses. She was too focused by the presence of her predator that she almost forgot her other predator. Right, Jang Taeyoung as he is will never accept a petty satisfaction as she only learns about his seeking tongue to enter hers. Only makes it worse when he starts to wrap his hands around her waist after deciding to press her more through the columns of wine bottles which also starts to make a sound of clinks from his move. Not long enough when his other hand begins to run through caressing her bare back to gripping her neck, up until finding a hold from the wooden feature of the wine columns.

“Hmm…”

And just like that, she lost it. Fully lost from the presence of her petty enemy, leaving her only focus to this taming man’s kisses. Scolding herself in mind but had to admit she’s liking it. She’s liking every touch of him that even her hands find its way uncontrollably wrap around his neck through stroking his hair, up to cupping his cheeks. Letting him experience the same intensity as she begun to push herself to kiss him back. Savoring each other’s taste. Giving in from the undecided touches. ‘I’m crazy’ a thought which only made her frown, yet she already meant. 

“Jeez. Get a room.”

That alone made her snap back from reality, that she forcefully pulls herself from his still eager kisses. She may not have been busted by the prosecutor only to be found as embarrassment. The fox failed to see her though as it already passed through them before she pulled out, but because of the already loud sound of wine clinks caused by them, it had to found out their sudden make-out.  

“F*ck!”  

He hates to admit, but he liked it too. The way her lips brushed into his was just exceptional that he even begins to put a liking smile in between their kisses. He wants more and he mean it. And as much as he wants to thank the bomber prosecutor for letting things happen, he hated him even for cutting it. For they can still hear each other’s breaths as his arms still resting in between her, while she’s not eyeing his glances like he does. “We better get going. Our guest must have waited for too long.” As he intends to get serious but his teases aren’t helping when his usual tilting of head and a smirking smile ignites. “I thought Gangnam Gal is five kilometers afar from Itaewon Guy? Then why does it feel too close today. Huh, Sung Eunyoung?”

“Save that for later, Jang Taeyoung.”

Her only stern response after shoving out from his trapping arms between her and with one last biting of his lips, he turns around with a face of a cold hunter as they both went upstairs for VIP Casino Hall to finally pursue their first mission.

~

“Señor Alcaziar.”

His first greeting of its name before urging for a handshake. “So sorry for being late, a little situation just happened unexpectedly. I hope it didn’t get you bored though.” His proceeding excuses as well. “I see. Not at all. I’m actually enjoying!” a calm but lively response of the Spanish old man before its eyes begun to dart on her.

“Ooh. And who’s this lovely Señorita with you?” They then both looking at each other as if a lovesick lovers head over heels in love. She, who is as if asking for his permission, only to be answered a motioning gentleman’s sign. And he, who swears if only a Grammy nomination will be offered to them, they surely conquer the award-winning title. Thus, as if on cue. Their workshop begins to roll.

“Hola, Señor. Allow me to introduce myself. Me llamo Amilia. Mucho gusto.”

As expected, an astonished reaction had appeared, while unlinking her hand from his arms and offer to the guest. “Mucho gusto. Me llamo Veeros.” The latter’s introduction as well, that even after accepting her handshake, a compliment follows by talking to him. “She’s good, eh?” And the only thing he did was to give him a proud smile. “But you didn’t tell me you’ll be bringing a date for tonight. I should have brought mine.”      

With a kinky smile, he went beside her placing his hand on her bare back. “Well, to properly introduce you Señor. This dazzling lady here beside me. My dearest fiancé, Amilia Martin.” so for the second time, their whipped staring game reenacts again, while the became out of place old man only had to react in awe from what he thought lovebirds that its eyes were stuck staring with the both of them. “Oh. Wow. Now that makes a lot of sense. So, am I Veeros Alcaziar proud to be father then?” its humorous response anyway by which cause the laughter among them anyhow. 

Still moved from the burst of laughter. The latter tries to bring back his composure though. “Wooh. That’s hilariously unexpected. Anyway, it’s really nice to meet you, young lady. Amilia Martin is indeed a beautiful name for you.” His complimenting remarks again, while she hated the fact that she needed to thank him for that.  

Amilia Martin. A name given by her foster parents since she became an orphan. She’s sorry for them, yet it became her disguised identity. Truth is, only few knows Sung Eunyoung, which includes the reckless man beside her obviously. The corporate world only knows Amilia, gone Sung Eunyoung. She loves to be called by that name anyway. But hearing it from the mouth of the enemy is a total exemption.

Meanwhile, a prying watch from Jang Taeyoung occurred. Eyeing the peculiar stare from their guest. For he had already felt it the moment its eyes landed to his volatile. Something he cannot describe yet fishy. And he didn’t like it. “I almost forgot, Señor. Here’s our present for you.” His prompt interruption indeed which led the latter to change its focus to him, as he handed the Berlin champagne he decides to took anyhow a while ago. “Oh, wow. Villa Di Corlo. One of my favorite as well. Thank you.” After accepting it and give to its assistant, the Spanish old man begun to sturdy clasping its hands. “So! Can we talk about business now?”

“After you, Señor.” His leading motion the moment they arrived to the front door of his office, as the old man is about to went in, not before realizing something. “Wait? With your fiancé?” Its off remark indeed. “Well… I couldn’t get a permission if not to her. So, sí Señor.” His response then after from looking each other’s eyes. “Uhuh. Partners in crime. Nice. Well then.” Thus their first conversation started.

The deal went smoothly. From sharing both terms and conditions to how each other’s transaction must be done. But not until the certain word sneak into the dealer’s mouth which led them to give each other’s meaningful look. “Narcotics, Señor?”    

“Sí, Narcotics. I’ve been searching for a great timing for it but didn’t get a chance. You know, being a busy man. But looking with our conversation today, I think I’m convinced to give it a go. What do you think, Mr. Jang? Young lady?” His indeed pertaining to the both of them, and grasping from her seat isn’t even much of help. He saw it otherwise, as her habit of flicking her nails didn’t survive from his sight as well. Thus, he had no choice but to do the safest thing he guess.

“About that Señor. I think we need to talk about it first. Seems like my Amilia here is a bit surprised by your sudden proposal.” And she thanks him for that. “Oh. I see. My bad. But no rush. I can wait. Just make sure you both talk it wisely, alright?” and the only thing they could do is smile, hiding the fakeness.

“Thank you for inviting me to your humble Casino, young lad. I had a great time.” With a final handshake he offered a hand. “And thank you for accepting our invitation as well, Señor. We had fun talking.” And so they both escorted him and bid goodbye.

“Mierda!”

As he expected. Her curses erupt, the moment the door shut closed. Stroking her hair at the back of her head. She’s frustrated, and he knows it. That he had to grab her car key from the valet. “I’ll drive you home.” Only for her to get it back. “I can manage.” But who is she lying, though? He wouldn’t be surprise if a news came up of her for over speeding. “I would rather not take the risk. So, just better sit peacefully and let me. “snatching the key from her again while forcefully pushing her to get in the passenger seat.

The ride indeed at peace. But too much peace that her nail flicking habit bothers him still. “Eish. Can you stop torturing your nails? What did they even do wrong to deserve your frustrations. Tss.” only to receive a crumbing look from her. “Shut up. I’m thinking.” With a heavy sigh, she ends up looking by the window instead. Not too long though when her thoughts aren’t even helping her at all.

“Urgh. I need a break! Maldita sea. Stop the car!”

She burst out indeed, that he had to stop the car as well by a bridge. Stomping out through the sidewalk overlooking the steady shore, as she released another of her heavy breath. Her, who’s only feeling the solemn air, gripping to the railings of the bridge. Him, who’s only leaning to her car, arms crossed while playing with his shoe. Just silence between them.

“I have something in mind, actually. Want to hear?”

Breaking the ice, somehow. She hesitated of course, but at the back of her mind, why give it a shot? And so she does. “Let me hear it, then.” She, who’s crossing her arms now. From focusing his eyes on his playing shoe, he darts his eyes to the overlooking shore as well. “If I were to ask, I rather accept his proposal.” His straight suggestion indeed, while she had to turn her head to him, unpleased by his words.

“Are you even---“

“Then you shouldn’t have started if you’ll have to give up anyway.”

And that snap her indeed, that even a fading ‘but’ cannot surpass what he said. She would not like to admit, but he’s right. And him, seeing her doubting face, decided to proceed his following invocations. “You think declining him ain’t do any suspicions? Tss. That’s a lamest excuse for a gambler, Sung Eunyoung. Whether you like it or not, we have no choice either.” Thus a surrendering sigh escape to her again, as her eyes went back to the overlooking shore. “I know. It’s just that… I did not expect things to go this worse.”

“Sung Eunyoung. Even gamblers need to expand. You’re in a business. You should have known that.”

Then another silence appeared. And by measuring her silence again, he began his final follow-up. “So? Are we in or what?”

And with one last deep sigh, closing her eyes. She finally gave in.

“Okay.”                                    

#kim soo hyun #seo ye ji #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #psycho but it's okay #itsokaynottobeokay #realkoreanmovie #by quantum physics #quantum physics #sung eun young #jang tae young #nightlife ventures #hyunji #seo yea ji #real #jangtaeyeong

[jade4813]

What is North and South?

I’M GLAD YOU ASKED, INTERNET NONNIE!!!

For the sake of your sanity and patience, I’ll give you the tl;dr version first: It’s a BBC mini-series (4 episodes) based off a book by Elizabeth Gaskell that everyone should absolutely watch (the version with Richard Armitage and Daniela Denby-Ashe is generally considered to be superior, although there’s an older version with Patrick Stewart that I need to check out at some point) but particularly fans of 1) Pride and Prejudice (because the love story is in many ways similar) and/or 2) fans of smoldering hotties because the miniseries is about 233 minutes long, and Armitage smolders through approximately 230 of those minutes.

Was that still a little long for a tl;dr? OH WELL! Wanna delve into the longer version of why this movie has captured my heart? I’ll be kind and put it under the cut.

What’s the Story?

Excerpted from the BBC website: “Set against the backdrop of Victorian England's industrial north, it follows the fortunes of Margaret Hale, one of 19th century literature's most original heroines. Margaret is a privileged, middle class southerner who is forced to settle in the northern town of Milton. Her distaste for the town and its people extends to handsome and charismatic cotton mill owner John Thornton, whom she believes epitomizes everything she dislikes about the North. As events conspire to throw Margaret and Thornton together, the two spirited characters have to overcome their repressed physical attraction for one another and conquer prejudices of class and circumstance.”

I read online that the BBC actually didn’t expect North and South to be very popular, so they didn’t promote it very much. ... And within two to three hours of it airing, so many fans flocked to the BBC message boards that they crashed the site. Needless to say...the BBC got that one wrong.

That’s Great, But I Meant the Love Story!

Okay, yeah, there’s an interesting perspective about the rise of unions, workers’ rights, and cotton production in the 1850′s, but let’s be honest. That’s not why we’re here. We’re here for the love story. We’re here for the ship. And the ship is SO WORTH IT!

So I said that fans of Pride and Prejudice in particular should watch this because there are a lot of similarities between Elizabeth/Darcy and Margaret/Thornton.

* Initial misunderstanding upon meeting that gives our heroine a very bad impression of our hero? Check

* Pride and prejudice all up in this business? Check

* Hero hopelessly falls for the heroine while the heroine is convinced she cannot stand him? Check

* Even MORE misunderstandings? Cheeeeeeck

* SMOLDER? OH MY GOD CHECK

* Unfortunate Proposal (TM)? Check

* Heroine realizes she was wrong about the hero and falls for him when it May Be Too Late? Check check check

* Romantic moments that will steal your heart/make you swoon/make you think some Very Smutty Thoughts? Check check check check check check check

Honestly, it’s got it all. It’s P&P if Darcy grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and Elizabeth was socially above him. It also gives a lot more of Thornton’s POV than we got in P&P (which, don’t get me wrong, I adore), so if you love Misunderstood Men Soft for Just One Woman but really want to feel their heartbreak at Unrequited Love, let me tell you...whoo boy. There’s one scene in here where Thornton just stuck a dagger right in my heart and is totally the reason I couldn’t stop thinking about it for days and the obsession began. (For those familiar with the show, it’s when he tells his mother she’s the only one who cares for him. Oh my god, he broke my heart in that scene.)

Who’s the Heroine?

Our heroine is Margaret Hale. As it says in the synopsis above, she’s from the South. She moves with her family to the North when her father gives up his position in the church and moves them to the harsher, dirtier, coarser industrial town of Milton. She’s got a good heart and is plenty outspoken, but it takes her some time to adjust, and she does not get the best first impression of Thornton, I’m afraid. Over time, she comes to see him for the honest, honorable, compassionate, thoughtful, Hottie McHotterton that he is.

Okay, she MAY have already realized what a hottie he was because, honestly. LOOK AT HIM.

The Frock-Coated Fox

(My eternal gratitude for whatever N&S fan first coined that phrase because I will always think of him in those terms. Always.)

John Thornton is the owner of Marlborough Mills. He’s coarser than Darcy. Rougher around the edges. More hot-headed. But he abides by a strict code of honor, and his gruff exterior hides an aching vulnerability. He loves Margaret, even when he’s convinced she’ll never love a man like him in return. He’s proud - and hard in many ways - but he has more care and compassion for his workers than Margaret originally assumes (and more than he himself would perhaps admit). 

I mentioned his general propensity to smolder, right? Oh, I didn’t?

Nobody

Smolders

Like

John

Thornton

He smolders even when she’s not THERE and he’s just THINKING about her!

But you want to know the only thing better than his smolder? When he’s soft. For her.

I...I may need a moment. My heart can’t take what I’ve just done to myself.

Are There Supporting Characters?

I mean...yeah. And they’re all amazing. Well, Fanny can be a bit of a trial. Even John agrees.

But I appreciate her anyway. 

My favorites, though, would be:

Nicholas Higgins. Margaret doesn’t hit it off with him initially, but they eventually become close after she befriends his daughter. A union man, he and Thornton do not initially get along. However, over time, they come to understand and respect each other and he may be the closest thing Thornton has to a friend - at least that we see.

And

Mrs. Thornton, John’s mother. I think she can be a divisive character. I know several people who don’t like her. I, however, ADORE her. Every time I watch the show (and I did three times in one week), I come to love her more. She’s a hard woman - as much by circumstance as inclination - but she has a similar code of honor as her son, and she loves, protects, and believes in him FIERCELY. She is, for that reason...not...so much...a fan of Margaret, particularly after their first meeting, when Margaret scoffs at the notion of any woman being taken with John. Reeeeeeally not the best foot to start off on, girl!

So Is It Worth It?

Yes. It absolutely is, and if you give it a chance, I really hope you tell me what you thought of it! 

To finish out my gushfest, I must point out that one of the most incredible things about North and South is how good they are at “show, don’t tell.” I didn’t realize the first few times that I watched that there is no “I love you” exchanged at the end. There doesn’t need to be.

You know.

#north and south #I love these two #John Thornton #Margaret Hale #please watch and let me know what you thought! #Anonymous

[threeletterslife]

07 | Illegirl

→ previous | next 

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda���

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, kissing/making out, (kinda??) sexual fantasies

→ wordcount: 6.2k

You need to get rid of all the memories you've had with Jimin.

It's quite simple, actually. You've broken it down into four rules.

1. Don't call him Jimin. He's merely your teacher, not friend

2. You've never ever kissed him before. In fact, let's just say you don't even meet him outside of school for whatever reason

3. You don't know anything about him except his age, name and profession. You certainly don't know anything he hides behind his pretty face

4. Lastly, you weren't his friend, you never were

Ever since the mistaken incident, all fun was stripped away from your life. Essentially, whenever Jin was away, you had Jimin to rely on, but even he was distancing himself from you. You knew it was for the better.

You see a bland pattern these days. During class, Jimin still calls on you (to ensure normal behavior), but both of you avoid eye contact. After class, you silently walk into his classroom and walk out when Jimin's ready to leave. You don't ever exchange words, even when he drops you off.

If you're absolutely forced to talk to him, you don't call him Jimin, you call him Mr. Park, because that's what he really is to you. Only friends call each other by their first names, and Jimin's just a teacher to you.

And you're just a student to him.

You count off the long days until your cousin will come back home. Every day seems to drag on and you constantly can't wait to go to bed for a short while but only to wake up again and start the shitty cycle once more.

But finally, finally, fucking finally, the day comes when your cousin will be back. You're a bit reluctant to accompany your teacher to the airport, but you don't have a car, much less a driver's license.

The car ride is awkward, just as you expected. You manage to sit still, looking out the window the whole time to avoid any chance of eye contact, running math equations in your head to distract yourself.

Of course, in the end, the uncomfortable ride was worth it.

It's Seokjin, after all.

"My baby cousin, best friend! Still alive, I see!" your cousin practically screams as he bull-runs towards you and Jimin, his suitcase basically flying behind him. That earns a few strange looks from passers.

When Jin reaches you, he embraces you in a warm hug.

"I've been living off instant ramen," you whine. "It's not fair that you don't let me get out of the house alone!"

Your cousin cocks his head as he looks between you and Jimin. "Hey, don't you two usually eat together after school?"

"We were both busy," Jimin quickly says, glancing your way awkwardly.

"For a month?" Jin questions.

"Yeah... a lot of homework," you trail off. "Mr. Park still made sure I got into the house safely every time though," you add for some good measure.

"Mr. Park?" your cousin says suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. "Since when did you call Jimin, that?"

Busted.

"Hm... did you two fight?" Jin asks, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. He looks at you meaningfully, as if trying to compel you to tell the full truth. You're not falling for that.

"Oh, of course not," you say giggle unconvincingly. "Why would we fight?"

Jimin laughs nervously. "Y/N's right. We didn't fight."

Jin looks like he doesn't believe both of you. But thankfully, he knows not to push it. "Yeah, I expect it was something like Y/N accidentally got a B on one of your tests, Jimin," he jokes, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, I missed you two," he announces joyfully, bringing in you and your teacher for a hug. "I'll treat you two to a nice dinner."

You perk up, face suddenly glowing as you smile—it felt nice to smile, actually. You haven't done it in a while. "Oh thank god," you say. "No more ramen!"

You haven't really had your fair share of awkward dinners, but goddamn, if you had a list, this dinner would be on the very top of it.

Jin is the only one who's trying to strike up a lively conversation as you and Jimin act like brain-dead zombies. You're half-expecting your cousin to give up on his attempts to crack corny jokes, but no, Jin continues on. You guess you're thankful to have him to make the dinner not a complete shitty event.

Halfway through the meal, Jimin checks his phone, his face feigning surprise. "Oh!" he says rather loudly. "Um, something came up... Er, teacher stuff. I've got to go," he says quickly, standing up. "I'll pay."

"Excuse me, Jimin, I said this is my treat. Go on ahead to your... supposed teacher meeting," Jin says, ushering his friend out with the flip of his hand.

Anyone could tell Jimin was just faking this to get the hell out of here, but none of you were actually going to mention it.

Your teacher just looks gratefully at your cousin and practically dashes out of the nice restaurant.

An awkward silence fills the air for a while.

"So... even if the two of you didn't fight, something still happened," Jin says, turning to face you fully.

"It's nothing, really."

"Nothing? Then do you care to explain why you've lost so much weight? You haven't been eating," your cousin lectures. He points at the dark bags under your weary eyes. "And you haven't been sleeping. You're slipping back to your old habits, Y/N. What happened?"

"It doesn't hurt to do some extra studying..." you mutter. "I've got all the time in the world now," you say sarcastically.

Jin sighs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Y/N," he says sternly. "How many minutes of sleep are you getting a night?"

"Forty-five," you say nonchalantly. "Don't, Jin. It used to be thirty minutes a night so you better not bring out that huge lecture again."

"I thought it was getting better..." your cousin sighs. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, and you know that."

You nod. "I know. But you're here now, right?"

Your cousin looks at you so sadly, you feel like you just might burst into tears. "Y/N, I won't always be here with you. I know I call you my baby cousin, but honestly, you've got to grow up."

His words hit you hard, only because you know he's right.

"I can't always be there to baby you, okay?" Jin says, massaging his forehead with the palm of his hand. "As of now, you're only in high school—in less than a year you'll be going to college. Life is so much more than studying. Stop using that, that shit to distract yourself from things that should mean a lot to you!" your cousin practically yells. He buries his face into his hands.

Your mouth is agape. Jin never cussed. He must be so mad. You fucked up—you've been fucking up for a while, actually.

"Jin," you say, softly shaking your cousin's shoulder. "Jin. I'm sorry."

When he looks up, you're shocked to see smudged tears dwelling on the smooth surfaces of his skin. You've never seen Jin cry—only on stage when it was scripted.

At that moment, you want to tell him everything—you've never actually hidden things from your cousin until Jimin rolled around. You want to tell him about that night Jimin was drunk and kissed you, about your crush on your teacher, how he helped you become the happiest you could be, how a month ago both of you made a huge mistake and kissed... You want to tell your cousin that you've been slipping back to your own habits because you wanted to distract yourself from thinking about him.

But you don't tell him.

"Y/N, I try, okay? I really try to make you happy. Yeah, sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out, because god, you are such a brat at times!" he chuckles through his tears. "But Y/N, I love you. And I know, whatever has been going on between you and Jimin has been making you happier than ever. It's something I couldn't do for you, and I still beat myself up over that. But something happened between the two of you, and the happiness is gone now. You don't have to tell me anything, but just... don't go studying for hours when you face some sort of problem in your life, okay?"

Fuck, now I'm crying.

You nod, making your tears flow down your face. "Okay. I'm sorry," you manage to say. "I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish—"

Jin wipes your tears away with his soft sweater, pulling you into a tight hug right after. "It's okay. You're still learning, you're only 17. Besides, my outlet is theater. While you were practically starving yourself for a month, I was literally having the time of my life with the drama crew. Don't worry about me too much. I'm not the one who still needs to figure out what to do in life."

All you can do is nod into Jin's chest, sniffling slightly. You love him so much you can't even explain in words.

"Fix things up with Jimin, try, okay? I don't care if you end your senior year having a B, or seven F's—what matters is your happiness. Try to consider that the next time you try to starve and sleep deprive yourself," Jin says softly, his fingers sifting daintily through your hair, caressing it in a way you think a mother would do.

You hum in agreement, your head still resting against your cousin's warm chest. You want to stay like this forever.

But after a few minutes, your cousin tugs you back, smiling brightly at you. "Now, we've put on quite a show in this restaurant, haven't we?" he whispers in a giggly voice.

Whut.

It's only then when you realize this whole episode had happened at the restaurant. In public. You can feel the judging gazes of people.

Oh fuck no.

"Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!" you hiss, gripping your cousin's sweater, face colored bright red as you can't bear to look up again.

Jin laughs heartily. "But what's life without a little public embarrassment?"

He looks up to you as much as you look up to him. As your older cousin, Seokjin always feels the need to take care of you, to make sure you're doing okay. At times, he forgets that he should put himself before others. At times, he forgets that he has a life outside of taking care of you and several grubby high schoolers. At times he forgets who he even is.

But on the days that he forgets, he thinks back to what you always tell him. You, the bratty, but amazing sunshine of his life.

"Jin, you're the goofiest guy I've ever fuc—I mean, freaking met. You'd think such a goofy guy would be empty-headed. But to think that I'm wrong... You're an amazing actor. It's scary to see you on stage sometimes because you're not Jin anymore. Like I swear to fu—flopping god that you change into a completely different person!"

"Y/N, are you complimenting me, or roasting me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing both. One shouldn't take too many compliments at once. It makes them big-headed."

"Well, I can't argue with you, I know that. But you really think I can act?"

"Okay, Jin, I know you can act, alright? I've seen you. Honestly, you should try pursuing it. Oh my god, if you ever get famous, write a play about me!"

Jin chuckles at the memory. He never ever liked letting you see his weak side. To you, he was always some superhero who would always crack up jokes to lighten up any dark mood, his specialty was saving awkward dinners from spiraling out of control.

But since you were deprived of the details of Jin's darker part of his life, he needed someone else to vent to: Jimin.

"Jin, you should start to worry more about yourself than Y/N. Seriously, all you do is talk about her—is she that worrisome?"

"Jimin, bro, you don't even know. She's just... different and I'm so worried about her and how's she's gonna handle you know, life."

"You know what you need to do?"

"What?"

"Take a fucking chill pill. Let the girl be. She's 17, isn't she? You've been babying her too much, you know that? The more you worry about her, the more restricted she'll feel. She'll learn by herself. Life is trial and error—you should know that."

"I—"

"Okay, and in the meantime, holy shit, man, take care of yourself. All you do is teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of Y/N, teach, take care of—"

"I think I get the point."

"Yeah? Well, doesn't look like you get it. Jin, do something for yourself for once. What do you like to do?"

"You know, the usual. Sleep... Look in the mirror..."

"If you're not gonna be serious, I'm going to leave—"

"Fine! I like acting okay? I love it. Every year the drama team is invited for competitions and I'm never able to go, so we've been losing every time."

"I presume you can't go to take care of Y/N?"

"Yeah.. uh—"

"I'll take care of her then, buddy. You go fulfill your dream, bro; you deserve it."

"Wait, actually? For real? You'd do that? This better not be one of your jokes."

"Do I look like I'm joking? You deserve to be doing what you want, Jin. Everyone does."

Jin feels so warm inside as he recalls that memory. It was thanks to Jimin that he was able to experience the time of his life at the competition, doing the thing he loved. It had also been thanks to Jimin that you had been happy for quite the longest time.

If Seokjin didn't know any better, he'd say there was just a bit of chemistry between the two of you—it was either that or a solid friendship. But for some reason whatever was there is now gone.

You were colder, more distant than before and even Jimin had stopped laughing so often.

"I know I'm asking you this a lot these days, but are you happy, Y/N? You don't look like it..."

"That's because I'm not. But don't you dare worry about me, it makes me feel selfish. I'm going to find things out when the time comes. You know, I care about you too. And honestly, I want you to stop worrying about me because it's stunting your happiness. I'm 17, I can figure things out myself."

"Can you figure things out by yourself? For real?"

"What did I just say? Yes, I can! I'm telling you, I'm starting to get life, alright?"

Jin shakes his head, sighing. He could always see through your lies. It was painfully obvious you were just saying the things he wanted to hear. He could see the confusion in your eyes whenever you stared at Jimin, he could see how blank your stare was when you were looking at anything else.

So. Obvious.

"Y/N, are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Jimin?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Jin wasn't so sure you were sure.

The young teacher really hadn't meant to kiss you. Things had just taken an unexpected turn, and judging from your reaction, it had been an enormous mistake. It physically hurt to have lost his other best friend, but he tried hard to not let it affect his life.

He could see it affected you though.

Of course, he had noticed you had lost weight—he also noticed the growing dark circles under your usually sparkling eyes. He could see how much duller you were. He also noticed he was smiling less without you.

Jimin sighs out loud as he makes his way into his car. He really missed having you around, with your unique, spunky personality, beautiful smile and hilarious side comments.

As he's driving, he can't stop thinking about you. Your face, your laugh, god, even your handwriting—sometimes he just spends long minutes admiring your neat penmanship on your tests. He knows every single one of your writing quirks—how you take your time to put a cute little dash over your 7's, or how beautiful your 4's look compared to everyone else's.

Stop it, Park Jimin. You'll crash your car if you don't stop thinking about her.

It takes five minutes longer than it should've, but Jimin finally arrives at the local market, clutching his clear shopping bag. He painfully looks down at it. It reminds him of you.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Um... clear."

"That's not a color, Y/N!"

"Do I fucking look like I care?"

"But that's like saying your favorite fruit is a carrot."

"Wait, my favorite fruit is a carrot! Damn, how'd you guess??"

He can't help but chuckle at the memory, but he abruptly stops, remembering you two won't be able to share memories like this anymore. Sighing, Jimin trudges into the supermarket.

He's been going here a lot these days. Ever since he found out you had not just one sweet tooth, but 28 sweet teeth, he'd been trying to learn how to bake pastries, buying all sorts of ingredients to create saccharine dishes. Just for you.

It wasn't much of a miracle that the last time you had baked together didn't turn out to be a disaster. Jimin had practiced.

He loves cooking with you. You always look ethereal, hair a bit frizzy from the heat and tied back from your face with stray strands brushing against your face. Your cheeks are always flushed and somehow frosting always gets on your forehead. Even thinking about you makes all his sadness and hurt disappear into thin air.

Except, Jimin wasn't going to the store to buy ingredients to bake. He was going to buy some beer. He hadn't gotten drunk ever since he'd accidentally kissed you—the first time, that is. But he figured today, he needed it. He needs to get his mind off of things. He needs to get his mind off of you.

Jimin walks through the aisles, blank-minded, stopping only at the alcohol section. He randomly picks at a pack of beers, knowing he'll probably end up drinking it all today. He grabs it, hand hovering to place the pack in his clear bag.

But again, it reminds him of you.

"I don't know why the fuck you would ever drink. Like, does it taste good? What's the fucking point?"

"I dunno. I just kinda drink it when I want to alleviate stress, I guess."

"Well, that's stupid. You should try ice cream. That stuff makes you feel better right away and it doesn't make you go wack and do hilarious shit you'll end up regretting."

"Are you actually shading me, right now?"

"So what if I am??"

Jimin smiles at the memory. The first mistaken kiss between the two of you was such a joke—you two would always make fun of it. Why couldn't the second one be treated the same?

He sighs, clutching the pack of beer as he puts it back on the shelf. Chuckling to himself, he starts to make his way to the ice cream aisle.

Jimin scans the series of ice cream flavors to choose from. Immediately, the mint chocolate chip ice cream catches his eye, and without hesitation, he takes the tub and places it whole in his shopper.

Y/N's favorite. Jimin smiles, then starts to walk to the checkout, only pausing when he remembers he needs a new set of his favorite red pens. Nodding his head to himself, Jimin makes his way to the office supplies section of the store, scanning the shelves to pick out his favorite.

Big mistake.

As soon as he picks up the 3-pack of his much-needed red gel pens, it reminds him of grading, which reminds him of grading tests, which was exactly what he had been doing just three minutes before he and you had ruined your friendship. Your face looms in his memory.

Something stings inside. It rips his heart and then shrivels it up as if he had dumped it into highly-concentrated saltwater. Like lemon juice on a paper cut—but the paper cut was a gushing wound.

It was as if he only just realized he lost someone crucial to his happiness.

Jimin can't help but make a sour, hurt face, instantly tossing the pack of pens away from him. He doesn't want to deal with bad memories. The pens can wait.

Instead, Park Jimin finds himself wandering back to the alcohol aisle, absentmindedly buying an even larger pack of beers, setting it next to the tub of ice cream. There's enough room in the kitchen for both anyways.

His thoughts are completely blank as he drives home. It's as if the rush of pain he'd felt earlier had hurt so, so much he was now immune to it. It was numb.

He reaches his house, setting down the beer and ignoring the ice cream that would surely melt if kept out in the open; he pauses in his steps, hand midway through raking his hair back. All because he sees his couch.

You loved that couch. Actually, you practically lived on it whenever you came over, insisting to even eat dinner seated on it because "it's fucking comfortable."

When you sleep over, taking his bed, he sleeps on that same couch where he can smell your soothing scent. It lulls him to sleep.

But then comes the fantasies.

"Someone will hear!"

"Let them hear."

"God, Jimin, you have no fucking morals," you breathe shakily. "What if Jin walks in?"

"Jin? Walk in? In my house?" Jimin laughs hotly against your neck. "You're just making excuses, baby girl."

"Why would I make excuses?" you say weakly, gripping the hem of his shirt. "I want this just as much as you do."

"Oh?"

Jimin hums as nuzzles the sensitive part of your neck with his nose.

"R-really, Jimin? But here?" you stutter as your eyes automatically close and your mouth parts.

"We'll take it to the couch, love," he answers, sweeping you up in a smooth fashion and softly laying you on the couch before making his way on top of you.

Your body is enveloped by the plush couch and Jimin whose legs are on either side of your hips. He dips in unhurriedly, his tongue touching your lips before his. You wrap your arms around his neck as Jimin cups your face with both hands, kissing you slowly.

Lips still attached, you tug at the hem of his button-up shirt, and Jimin takes the hint to slowly start unbuttoning it. You shift below him to help him with his buttons and before long, his shirt is off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Only then do you move apart from each other's lips.

You marvel at his fit body, reaching to run your cold fingers across his toned muscles. Jimin doesn't give you enough time to continue your sightseeing as he pushes you back down, playing with the bottom of your t-shirt. He gives you a seductive look as you practically melt under him.

"Why don't we take this off too?"

"J-Jimin..."

Wait a fucking minute. This isn't right.

Jimin sighs loudly as he gives his head a little shake as if it would erase him of that rather inappropriate fantasy. At least he's glad it was one of the more innocent imaginations he's had of you.

But now he feels more broken than ever. You're something he can't have, your relationship only exists in the depth of his mind, hidden away from judgment. Jimin sighs again, ripping open the pack of beers and taking one. It's not even cold, but at this point, he doesn't care.

He just wants to forget.

On second thought, he grabs the whole pack and takes it with him to the kitchen, setting it down, choosing one and cracking it open in one swift move. It's a familiar, refreshing feeling.

Jimin raises the can to his lips, waiting to feel the rush of the bitter contents on his tongue. But he freezes.

He's thinking of you again. It's as if his brain can't function without thinking of you so often. Yet this time, it's not the thought of you, it's the sight. Jimin sees your smiling face, the way your sweet lips part to reveal your smooth teeth in a brilliant grin. He can't but to smile to himself as well.

Almost immediately, he sets the beer down.

Maybe... Maybe you might not want to be friends anymore, but Jimin knows that he does. He figured that's all it takes to make him happy. If the thought of you can make him content, make him choose the right decisions, then he'll just have to continue thinking of you.

He's sorry he moved in to change a friendship into a relationship so fast, and he might just regret it, but in the end, he's glad he's met you.

Jimin slowly picks himself up to grab the tub of your favorite ice cream, scrounging for a spoon. The first bite is heavenly, wonderful and phenomenal.

Just like Y/N.

He shakes his head as he takes another scoop, placing it in his mouth to melt slowly.

Damn. I'm so whipped for her.

You sift heavy textbooks around in your arms, fumbling with your lock before getting it open. Throwing the books in, you sigh as you slam your locker shut. These days, you had lost interest in a lot of things you used to like—school included. Things just seemed so bland. You didn't ever feel like socializing with anyone, forcibly dragging yourself to class every single day.

"Hey, Y/N!" a familiar voice calls as you whip your head around to respond.

"Oh, Jungkook!" you reply, "ah, and Yoongi, Taehyung..." Immediately, guilt courses through your veins. You'd been ditching them during lunch for quite some time now, ignoring their frequent 'where are you?' texts. They'd come to confront you for sure.

"Were you sick?" Jungkook asks as he reaches you. "I didn't see you in school for a while."

"I bet you happened to drop your phone in the toilet as well," Yoongi snarks.

Taehyung coughs awkwardly. "Since you haven't been answering our texts."

"Well, I—" you sigh. How are you supposed to tell them you've been wanting a lot of alone time these days without brutally mutilating their feelings? The answer was too obvious.

"Uh, yeah I was sick. And yeah, I kinda drowned my phone in the toilet," you say. Lies. "I'm sorry if you worried."

"Damn, did you drop your phone in the toilet after you used it, or before?" Yoongi laughs, earning an elbow to the ribs from his truly, Jungkook.

"You don't have to be sorry, Y/N," the sweet math nerd muses, giving Yoongi a dirty look. "We're sorry you haven't felt well. You're better now, right?"

You stand there awkwardly, not wanting to engage in a full-blown conversation. Your daily dose of alone-time was calling, and you desperately wanted to succumb to it.

"Yeah... um, I'm okay, been better. Sorry, I kinda have to go..." you fib. "Um, doctor's appointment?" It sounds more like a question than a solid lie but it'll do for now. "See you sometime later, I guess."

Turning around, you quickly walk away, faintly hearing confusedly murmured goodbyes from your friends. You speed around a corner, finding refuge in the girl's bathroom. Setting your things down in the big stall, you sigh, sitting down on top of your backpack.

It almost feels like the old days.

Except back then, you didn't have to ditch your friends for solitude because you had none. In a way, you feel slightly guilty. Your friends just wanted to hang out with you, it was that simple. But surely, if you hung out with them, you'd ruin the fun and the happy mood.

It's better to not meet them at all than meet them and remember bad things.

It's an upgrade, you think. You used to be afraid that others would hurt you. Now you're afraid you'll hurt others.

Some kind of upgrade.

It's even worse with the situation you have at hand (ahem, the Jimin one). You rarely lift your head up in class, flinching just slightly when he calls your name to solve a problem. It's harder than you think. To get rid of a crush, that is.

Not only that, but it's also wrong to be infatuated with your teacher. You just don't know what to do anymore. Jin didn't buy your feigned happiness—well, any idiot could tell you weren't as content as before. And now you've got a handful of people worrying, fussing over you of all others.

Why couldn't they just leave you alone?

No, that's stupid.

Deep inside, you want them to care, to worry for you. It gives you a feeling that you're not so alone.

"Y/N? You little liar!" a masculine voice screams from the entrance of the girl's restroom.

"Oh shit," you breathe. That was definitely Taehyung. Fuck. Just stay quiet, it's not like they can—

"We're coming in!" Yoongi yells, making the blood drain out of your face.

"Wait, guys!" Jungkook pleads. But it's too late. Yoongi and Taehyung barge into the girl's bathroom, rattling stall doors. Thank goodness you know for a fact no other girls were in here.

Before Yoongi or Taehyung can break down the stalls, you quickly unlatch your door, coming face to face with the two students.

"Ha! I knew you were in here!" Taehyung declares. "Jungkook swore he saw you go to the restroom and not to the office!"

"Doctor's appointment, huh?" Yoongi smirks.

"Well, I—"

"Save it. Jungkook, you little brat, get in here! Stop being a wimp!" Yoongi yells at the top of his lungs.

"Yoongi, will you quiet down? This is the girl's restroom," you hiss.

"But if this is the place you choose to eat your lunch at, we'll be here by your side," Jungkook says, smiling as he timidly walks in the stall. He looks alert as if anyone could open the door to the restroom and catch three teenage boys in a bad act, (which was perfectly plausible).

You don't know how in the hell you're supposed to respond to this. This. This is what friendship should be, isn't it? You'd never really known until now. It's such a beautiful, heartwarming feeling.

"Actually, JK, my man, you can be by her side, Yoongi and I have some business to take care of," Taehyung giggles has Yoongi links his arm around his.

"Wait, huh? That wasn't the pl—"

"Buh-bye!" Yoongi sings, waving his fingers at you and Jungkook as he and Taehyung strut out of the bathroom, not once looking back.

You and Jungkook are completely stunned into silence.

"Wow, they're really out to get us, huh?" you finally say, laughing under your breath.

"Y-yeah," Jungkook agrees quickly. "Listen, Y/N," he turns to you, the surprising sternness in his voice hinting that he was being extremely serious. "I understand you like your alone time, maybe a bit more than others. But sometimes the most dangerous, harmful and hurtful thoughts come when you're in solitude."

He's right and you know it.

"Aw, Jungkook, don't worry, I'm fine!" you say in the most lighthearted way you can. You chuckle sourly inside. No, I'm not.

"Y/N, you're not fine," Jungkook sighs. "For the longest time, I thought you weren't hanging out with us during lunch because... because you hated me or something. But now, I think there's something going on in your life that's hurting you, keeping you from being the better you."

You're speechless.

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

You do.

"I don't."

"Y/N, it's a burden to tell others every single detail of your life and problems, but it's also a burden to not say one single word about it," Jungkook says. "I don't know anything about you except that you like math... I want to know more about you, what goes on in your life, what problems you have. I want to help you."

It's then when you know you've been a mystery to Jungkook. You know a shit ton about him from your friendly talks, but you never talk about yourself. You realize you had only ever told Jimin everything that went on in your life. He was the one who could possibly know you better than Jin, himself. Jimin.

His name echoes in your head, but it feels so empty and dark.

You hadn't even known you were crying until Jungkook wordlessly wipes your tears away with the hem of his sleeve. He softly pats your back, then hesitates before he leans in to embrace you. Something about that makes you start crying. Too bad it's the ugly kind.

Jungkook seems a bit taken back at your sudden burst of tears, but he only holds you tighter, rubbing warm circles in your back. The best part about it is that he doesn't say a single word. He gives you time to cry your heart out, giving you company when you should feel so lonely.

You hiccup, leaning back from Jungkook's chest but still in the warmth of his embrace. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't... I'm so sorry," you blubber. Damn. Why the fuck—

"Unrequited love?" Jungkook asks softly.

You give him a strange look. "I guess you could say that..."

"Thought so," he mutters. "But he loves you back," he declares confidently.

Your head jerks up and you take a second before you start to laugh, the last of your tears dripping down from your chin to the ground. "How would you know?"

"You're Y/N. Everyone loves you back," Jungkook says, grinning. He dabs at your wet cheeks with his sleeve.

"And you're supposed to say that because you're my friend," you chuckle. "Trust me. It's not even 'love.' It's a little crush that I shouldn't even have had in the first place," you explain. "I'll be fine."

Jungkook smiles. "I trust that you will be." He's about to say more, but you hear the restroom door swing open as a few loud, gossipy girls come in.

You quickly tug Jungkook into the stall with you, locking the door. "Oh shit!" you whisper, grabbing at your friend's shirt.

"That was close!" Jungkook chuckles quietly. He smiles at you, and it's so contagious that you can't help but smile back.

You finally realize that you're not alone, that you shouldn't be alone. There are people willing to listen, to help you. There are people willing to break school rules and hang out in the girl's restroom with you, for goodness sake. You need to get over this 'unrequited love' and focus on the better things.

It took you a good ten minutes to escape the girl's restroom with Jungkook safely—curse high school girls who like to gossip their mouths off when they should really be flushing down their business. The two of you spent the rest of lunch casually talking as if you hadn't broken down crying not too long ago. It felt good to talk to someone. Especially since you've been so focused on shutting people out these days.

Now you're in the best mood you've been in months as you practically skip to Jin's drama classroom.

"Today's been a wonderful day!" you belt out singing as you swing open the door, twirling dramatically into the classroom. Looking up from your little happy dance, the color from your face drains as you see Jin and Jimin staring at you in shock.

Okay. I was expecting Jin. But Jimin? Really?

You're so embarrassed. All the mirth from before had officially been drained away.

Jin's the first one to break the silence as he laughs heartily. "A wonderful day? That's great, Y/N! Did Jungkook confess?" he teases.

You roll your eyes. "No!"

Your cousin wiggles your eyebrows at you as from the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin looking down at his shoes. Your heart stings at the sight.

"Yeah, um, so... Let's go home?" you awkwardly suggest, tightening your grip on your backpack.

"Oh right... About that," Jin chuckles nervously. "Jimin's taking you home today."

The light in your eyes extinguishes immediately. "He can't!" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jimin looks up at your sudden outburst, your eyes meeting.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

Jin cocks his head. "Don't worry, Y/N, he's not going to crash the car or anything," he laughs. Your eyes plead at your cousin. "Sorry, for the late notice, Y/N. I have some team meeting I have to go to. Now, behave yourself! I'll be home in a few hours. Bye!" Jin gives you and Jimin an equally goofy grin as he sashays out of his classroom, happily waving his hand as a final goodbye.

You internally groan. This was going to be so bad.

—previous | next 

—masterlist

#jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #teacher au #jimin fanfic #illegirl

[douxie-casperan]

[✂, ↕?]

The prompt below was specifically requested to be the Heart of Glass AU and features the Bad End! The second prompt will be done at a future date. 

↕ - A memory that may or may not have happened

Looking back on it the signs were there of something being wrong that couldn’t be seen being blind as they had been. Things like how Nari slowly began to close herself off haunted with sadness that they couldn’t remember seeing there before but it was evident in her eyes. She must have been hurting so much but kept putting on a brace face anyway to not make them worry and always brushing off any attempts to ask until the questions simply stopped coming. Everyone deserved privacy right? They just figured it was something that would sort it’s self out but within days of the last time they ever spoke to her she simply vanished into the night almost as though she was simply holding on that little bit longer for one of the erratic visits to come. It didn’t make the sting any less painful when word came months later when even Skrael and Bellroc began to worry over her absence. There have been more than a few sleepless nights spent wondering where she is, what she was doing, if she was simply okay that were left unanswered.

They have three reminders of the trio of beings who took him in that they always carried with them, one is etched in ink, there is the staff they love dearly even when keeping the existence of it a secret and finally the left hand which had been the first gift from Nari herself which had been carried for so many centuries of their life. This one let them be something more than useless that they would have been condemned to be otherwise making it was worth all the stares, the snide remarks and any problems it caused hundreds of times over. Now down to two, these almost felt haunted.

The other thing should have been a red flag right from the start but when you’re so traumatised and barely able to hold a thought together for more than a few seconds everything is taken at face value because beyond that is simply too much to bear. Archie confirmed she had been there to see them before Killahead while at the time they had been passed out with barely more than a handful of waking hours since it happened. She said that the Order had promised to keep the two of them safe and that she would return after ensuring that all of them would live without being in fear ever again. She wouldn’t of course, thanks to him they wouldn’t see one another again until they were living in the far-flung future of Arcadia not knowing that she was being held right beneath their feet plotting her own freedom with or without help.

Nothing comes for free; they knew that better than anyone yet never once thought to question what the price that had to be paid for such a promise to be had. It was spun to them as a means to prevent the extinction of magical beings at the behest of a mad king but it was far more than that wasn’t it? It was the ability to live without persecution being bought on the back of conquering the other to ensure it, never about restoring a balance already upset by the actions of one old man. It was so obvious and yet, and yet.

The blindfold was ripped away with a few simple words of clarifying truth and the anger it causes is barely contained any more than the magic desperate to lash out in retaliation against their own sister who stands there with helmet held in hands and a pleading expression in emerald eyes that he would somehow see her reasoning. A familiar dragon is perched on their shoulders glaring just as much bristled with a twitching tail and both can hear the echoes rattling about their brains repeating again and again of what led them here.

All of this was for you, all of it to make a world where nobody would have to suffer like you did! Gunmar is merely a means to an end for that paradise to finally come forth into reality.

At the cost of everyone else you mean, did you think for a second I'd ever want that?! Just because I suffered never meant I wanted anybody else to as well!

That was our deal, Douxie. If they would keep you both safe I would accept their power and become the Champion of Magic and right what my brother wrought against us, it was only a matter of time before we were all put to the sword and this was my one chance to finally make things right.

He's long gone! Bellroc felled him at the battle didn’t you know? His era is dead and the legacy he left drove everything underground but having a bunch of trolls running around eating people isn’t exactly going to fix everything. That’s not balance that’s genocide!

“… I’m gonna ask them myself, I want to hear the answer from them directly and if you really do care about what I think you’ll help clean up this mess you gave an open invite to instead of yanno going after the actual problem who is probably waiting for his grand moment,” is hissed whilst summoning their own staff to hand ready to use for a very specific spell reserved only for emergencies. What could be a bigger one than knowing?

“You’re older than me and I kinda liked to hope you would know better, Morgana. In case you missed the memo there’s only one person I have it out for and it sure as heck is not an entire planet full of people.”

The base is tapped and with a few whispered words a shimmering crack appears beside them that is barely visible except where the light catches the edges.

“Be better, please? Not exactly asking the world here but if I can avoid becoming jaded despite literally everything that has happened to me then I can’t see why you’re so determined to swan dive into it. I wanted you back so much, I’ve been trying so damn hard for so long to have that but right now I can’t really stand to even look at you if you can think this is remotely okay.”

“Douxie, please we can still fix this.”

They say nothing, merely giving her a soft smile before the two of them disappear beyond her reach with all the consequences she has wrought.

~~

It was all true, Skrael said so himself. Oh it was attempted to be played as somehow being a mercy that they’d been kept in the dark this entire time, of how despite so much time there had been to tell the truth that went by wasted, the same amount that could have been used to change their minds and work towards a better solution they had instead sought out something even worse than what she’d unleashed on the world fancying a bit of annihilation on a far larger scale instead. It made their heart hurt so much, why did everyone think for even one second they’d be okay with it? Any of it? That somehow being allowed to pick favourites would somehow make it magically acceptable despite knowing people that mattered to them personally could be spared while the rest would be damned?

They said culls about us too remember? All for the greater good, just a few sacrifices and spare the lot, send them forth and you’ll go free. You sound like he did.

He was… cruel, and he used you, Hisirdoux. We kept you safe; we protected you. We didn’t force the weight of the world on your shoulders- you were a boy! A young boy! You never should have had so much pressed upon you! I was only ensuring that you wouldn’t have to feel that again! You do not deserve what happened to you. Not again. I will not take part in doing that to you, not like he did.

Why were they the only one who wasn’t completely blind to what they were all heralding?

And yet didn’t stop you lying to me did it? You can’t pull a greater good on me I’ve heard it all before. Different century and it’s the same garbage. I’m tired.

Just… Let us make this right, Hisirdoux. Please. You can rest, here, Hisirdoux. You can rest, now. And in the morning, we can make it right. I can make it right.

Just tell us what we need to do and we will do it! We can’t lose you too.

It was almost ironic that this was the one time it wasn’t his fault; really it was their own if anything for believing anybody could be better than that instead of being a simple flip of the same coin. If people ended up suffering for the greater good well now that was worth it for the result because they didn’t matter, not really being little more than unnamed masses. Even Nari, one of their own, was somehow seen as an acceptable bit of fallout in the name of a false balance despite knowing she would feel each and every one of those lives being wiped out… It must have hurt to look at them, an example of both why it had to be done and why it should never be, she might have even hoped their being there might convince her siblings to change, to realise the same thing too.

They would not it seem and continuing was slowly taking everyone else down with it. Douxie did tell them both that they hoped they might yet see reason, the why, and realise why they never should have been contemplating it in the first place, of not wanting to leave and how unless they change, well they might never see one another again so please don’t try to follow. Nari was not the only one who could disappear after all as was the downside of having a very good teacher in how to do it properly and took the lessons to heart. It was probably only Archie’s presence that gave them the strength to walk away without looking back instead of breaking down crying right there over the bitter losses that were totting up one after the other though admittedly the final hug very nearly pushed them over the edge. It felt like the picture-perfect description of bittersweet.

~~

 After that things are barely held together by the thinnest of threads while the apartment is cleaned out. Nothing of importance was ever kept there but there were some things that needed to be held onto and were added to their most precious belongings taken from their room at the fortress before the argument began as an unfortunately correct precaution. Afterwards there was a key to be handed in with the words of it was simply time to move in, one place would have a notice and an apology for the suddenness while the other gained a sign saying closed until further notice knowing that the coven would likely pick over the best bits like vultures the second permission is given but they won’t mind particularly because at least anything dangerous will be removed. Right now all they care about is getting out of Arcadia and as far away as possible from the life they’d carved out there and all the traces he had tainted it with. He who had swept in taking them from their first home offering a new beginning with a home and family just to back a tyrant a few years down the line leading them to their second one just for history to repeat it’s self again and leave them in complete free fall. No lost limbs this time though, a small upside if forced to find one.

After removing the card and destroying their phone to lessen any chance of being tracked the two of them took the motorbike that was as battered and bruised as they are and rode silently through the night not caring where they would end up because anywhere else would be more than they could hope for. It’d been a while since they were last forced to rough it but they’d manage because if Douxie and Archie were anything it was survivors in a world that hated them for it and there was a lot of practice between times able to settle for any length of time. It would take three days before they felt there was enough distance to feel safe enough for risk a temporary break. The place was cheap but private having no problem with a cat companion and they were surprisingly fine about the request for a few more pillows in their room. That might have been the charm offensive and sheer exhaustion helping sell the need for it mind, was hard to tell.

Piling them up in a circle on the floor with a few blankets that had been pilfered including a few special ones that were very old, they simply flop onto them and then finally, finally allow the tears come that are without any sign of being able to stop. Within a few choked breaths a purring shape manoeuvres himself into their arms only to become louder from how tightly he’s being squeezed while a face is buried into his fur. They miss how the brand-new phone bursts into life until a voice that they felt they hadn’t heard in forever comes from it.

“Doux? Hey is that you? The hell are you I’ve be- There’s a pause upon catching the sound of someone trying to cry their heart out and her tone instantly becomes an awful lot more worried.

“Hey, hey are you okay did something happen?”

At first there is little more than the sound of snivelling and a mumbled nonsensical apology repeated over and over. She waits patiently, trying to soothe as little as she can while trapped on the other side of the speaker not even able to see what’s going on. There’s a few hiccups and stuttered starts before she finally gets the answer and of all the things in the world she could have expected this was not one of them.

“I- It happened a-again… Zoe, I, I’ve lost everything. You, you are Archie a-are all I’ve got left.”

#flamekeeperbellroc #No facts truer than a good meme #Heart of Glass

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart Chapter Two

Title: Elastic Heart - Winchester

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFCs

Pairing(s): Past Sam x Reader

Summary: Y/N worries about the past catching up with her.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: some cursing, fluff, small doses of angst

Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter One

Chapter Two - Winchester

Present

“We are so proud of you, Y/N” mom smiles, pulling me into a hug.

“We all are.” I turn to face dad. “Me, your mother, and sister. Isn’t that right, Delia?”

My 10-year-old sister is standing in front of him, looking more like me than I would care to admit. She beams up at me, jumping into my arms, “I screamed for you when they called your name, Y/N! Did you hear me?”

“Of course I did, Cordy!” I squeeze her tightly, using my nickname for her.  

“I miss you, Y/N, it’s not the same when you’re not home, mom and dad…” she leans in to whisper in my ear, “they’re already talking about me going to college.”

I knew that it was something that they would want for her, but I hate that they are already starting to bring it up. They had pushed me into making those same decisions before I was ready, and it put me on a collision course that I might never have been on if they allowed me to be a regular teenager for a few more years.

“She’s a little young for college talk, don’t you think?”

“Y/N, you should know, it’s never too early,” mom defends. “We started looking at programs when you were about her age.”

“Had your entire future planned out,” dad interjects, “and look where you are now! Even with your setbacks .”

“I was about to start high school,” I say, trying to keep myself calm. I take a deep breath, putting Cordy down, “she needs time to be a kid… to have a little fun.”

“As I recall, Y/N,” dad’s mood changes quickly, “you had plenty of fun, so much fun, in fact, that it almost ruined everything we had worked for.”

“I was seventeen, not ten,” I assert, stepping closer to him, “and my ‘fun’ didn’t almost ruin anything. If you think Cordy will be in a similar situation anytime soon, then we’ve all got much bigger problems.” I take another deep breath, “maybe it’s time to tell her about my setback , and she will learn from my mistakes.”

“This is not the place, Y/N,” mom puts herself between us. “Your father and I just want what’s best for Cordelia; you know that. We can talk about that later,” she looks down at Cordy, who is watching all of us intently, “but not now. Let us take you out for dinner, please.”

I nodded reluctantly. Mom’s right; this isn’t the time or the place.

“Later?” I look between them.

“Later.”

“What about me?” Cordy chirps, looking up to me. “Don’t I get a say?”

“I got you, kid.” I wink and squeeze her hand. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Joe’s!” she yells, and I laugh, it has been years since I’d been to Joe’s. For the past two years, I practically never left campus, only visiting home during the breaks for a few days at a time, and even then, I spent most of my time studying. It was easier to stay focused on class, keep my priorities straight , as dad would say.

“Delia,” dad rejoins as we walk toward the parking lot, “let Y/N choose, this is her night. As a matter of fact, we were thinking about going to that new restaurant downtown. What do you say, Y/N?”

“I say… Joe’s!” Cordy squeals with delight. “How about Cordy and I take my car, and we’ll meet you guys there? I can take her to my apartment, I’ll change out of these robes, and we can meet there in about an hour?”

“Do you really think that’s the best idea?” Dad says, shooting a side glance to mom then back to me. “Being alone?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle a ten-year-old for an hour,” I laugh.

“Ten and a half!” she corrects.

“Excuse me, ten and a half,” I bring my attention back to my parents, “and if I remember correctly, I used to be the only person in the house who could calm her down when she had her infamous temper tantrums.”

“I didn’t have tantrums!” Cordy pouts, walking in front of me, “I was a good baby!”

“Hate to break it to you, kid. But you had the worst fits. You grew out of them, eventually,” I give her a playful wink. “Anyway, Cordy has been asking to see my apartment basically since I moved in, and this is my last chance to show her before I have to move off-campus.”

Dad nods, and he and mom walk toward their car.  Cordy and I head across campus to my apartment. Her sparkling eyes fill with curiosity and wonder as I explain the statues and buildings, even pointing out one of the many stray cats that I see every day.

It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk to my apartment. It’s nothing fancy, just a small one-bedroom, but Cordy takes her time, studying the place. She seems fascinated by the pictures on the walls, framed photos of her and me, mom and dad, the handful of friends I have, and some art.

“Are you moving back home?” Cordy asks excitedly. “It’s been so long, not since I was little!”

“You’re still little, kid,” I laugh.

“Really little! I never get to see you anymore Ellie,” she follows me into my room.

“That’s because I was working really hard at school, but now, I’ll make sure that I see you more often, even if I don’t move back home.”

“Promise?” Cordy holds her pinky out in front of me, and I grab it with my own.

“Promise.”

She smiles widely. I notice a tooth missing and laugh to myself. I watch as she grabs one of the pictures off of my nightstand and sits down on my bed. It’s one of my favorite images of just the two of us. It was her first birthday; Cordy had just slammed her face into the cake, and I was laughing wildly.

“Why aren’t mom or dad in this one?” she asks, gesturing towards the picture.

“Oh…” I took the frame out of her hands, studying it, “You were so cute back then,” I tease. “You were so cranky that day, we’d given you all these presents, but nothing worked. Then, we put the cake in front of you, and you lit up. Mom and I were trying to help you blow out the candle, and you just threw your face into the cake. You covered your whole face, then tried to get me too. Mom was laughing so hard she had to step away. We didn’t even know that dad had taken the picture until later.”

“Who’s that?” she points at a figure in the background, I freeze for a moment, never realizing that he was in this photo. He’s slightly out of focus, but he still looks how I remember him. “He was in another picture, but when I asked mom about him, she wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh, him?” I feign ignorance, knowing precisely who he is. “He’s some relative on dad’s side of the family, a twice-removed something or other; mom wasn’t exactly a fan of him.” I force a laugh. I know I can’t be completely honest with her about the man in the photo, but I won’t lie to her either. “He used to visit us a couple of times a year, whenever he was in town. He was crazy about you, and you were obsessed with him. Dad hated it so much,” I laugh, thinking back to all the times we had seen him. “Dad thought he was getting replaced as your favorite person.” 

“Why don’t I remember him?” she asks quietly.

“I think the last time we saw him you were only two, I remember he told dad he wanted to help pay for my college and even start a college fund for you, it caused a big fight. You were a little too small to remember him.”

“What happened to him?” she looks up at me.

“I don’t know, kid. We didn’t hear from him again after that last visit. I think he got in some trouble with the law or something. We tried tracking him down, but nothing ever came of it.”

She looks disappointed in my answer.

“I’ll tell you what, in a couple of years, if you want, we’ll see if we can’t track him down. And I bet that we can find another, clearer picture of him somewhere,” I half-lie again, knowing exactly where to find a picture of him, “Whaddya say, kid?”

“Okay.” Cordy takes the photo out of my hand, and I can see she still has questions. I’m always afraid of this happening, and I’m not ready to conquer it today.

“You know why I picked that one out of the hundreds dad took that day?” She shakes her head. “That’s just you and me, kid. There aren’t that many of only the two of us.”

She frowns and looks back down at the picture again. “What about before this one?” she asks, and I’m stunned by her question.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I’m afraid I know what she means, but I promised I wouldn’t lead her down that path until we decided it was the right time.

“We did a family tree this year. They wanted pictures from when we were babies, and when I asked mom for pictures, she gave me a bunch like these. I told her my teacher wanted ones from when I was younger, but mom said she didn’t know where they were. All my friends have pictures with their mommy’s still in the hospital. But I don’t.”

“They’re around the house,” I stretch the truth again. “We weren’t expecting you, and you took us so off-guard, our little surprise baby. It took mom and dad so long to get used to the fact they were gonna have a baby in the house again. I was gonna move out, but after you were born, I just wanted to be around you all the time. And we were all so frazzled the first few months after you were born, I don’t think they even thought about picking up a camera half the time. But after your first birthday, dad couldn’t put one down.” I walked to my closet to get a change of clothes. “There are hundreds of them.”

“Really?” she looks up at me, a smile growing. “What about you?”

“Well, good cameras were still pretty expensive when I was born, plus, you had to buy film, then get it developed, and sometimes the pictures would turn out to not even be good, or out of focus or something. Or you would have to go to a photo studio and have them professionally done, which was also expensive.”

“So, they didn’t take any pictures of you when you were a baby?”

“They did, I’m sure they’re also hiding around the house somewhere, there’s probably more than they have of you,” I tease her. “I was the firstborn, after all. I think they have more videos of you, though. How about this weekend we look for them together?” she perks up at the thought, I make a mental note to let mom know what we will be looking for. “What do you think?” I asked, stepping out in a dress, and she scrunches her face. “Too formal for Joe’s?”

She nods, laughing. I head back to my closet and pick a simple shirt and jeans to wear.

“Y/N, why are they so mean to you?” Cordy’s tone changes when I walk out. “Mom and dad, they act like you were a bad kid.”

“Cordy,” I gather my thoughts and choose my words carefully. “Mom and dad had only me for seventeen years before you came along. They want what’s best for me, and that means that sometimes they have to push me. It comes from a place of love, know that.” I sit next to her offering a smile. “It’s been like that since before you were born, they were always stricter with me than they’ve been with you. I may be a ‘grown-up’, but to them, I’m still their little girl, same goes for you, kid.” I pull her into a hug. “Now, can we go to Joe’s? I’m starving!”

I grab my keys and cell phone, messaging mom on our way to my car.

Me >> We’re leaving my apt. we should be @ Joes in 30 mins or so

Mom << Okay =)

Me >> One other thing… Cordy’s starting to ask questions.

Mom << About what?

Me >> Everything. I think it’s time we told her.

Mom << We’ll discuss it later. See you soon.

I put my phone in the cup holder, frustrated by being shut down already. I know what they will say, she’s too young, she won’t understand , and a part of me knows they’re right. I know they only want what’s best, and I do too, but this is one of those days where it almost seems like it’s too much.

“It’s not fair! I should have a phone too! Dad says I’m too young!” Cordy gripes, pulling me out of my thoughts, “I don’t need a fancy one—"

“Dad’s right, you are too young.” I laugh as she settles into her seat. “What do you need a phone for?”

“So my friends can call me,” she argues. “I hate that they have to call the house, dad won’t even let me get a phone for my room.”

“I definitely gotta agree with dad on that one.”

“Y/N! You’re supposed to be on my side, that’s what you said earlier! Big sisters are supposed to be on the little sister’s side!” She pouts in her seat and I have to suppress my laughter.

“C’mon Cordy, give me one good reason, and I’ll be on your side.” I wait as she struggles to come up with a reason. “You gotta boyfriend?” I drag the word out, making her blush and shake her head. “You don’t need a phone yet. Can I trust you to pick out some music for us?” 

She laughs and searches through the player, finally picking a song.

I’ve never seen a diamond in the flesh I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies And I’m not proud of my address, in the torn-up town No post code envy

“And we’ll never be Royals!” I chime in, looking at her with a wide smile.

“It don’t run in our blood!” she joins me, laughing.

We spend the better part of the 30-minute trip to Joe's singing very loudly and badly to songs from my playlists.

We pull into the parking lot, laughing as another song finishes playing.

I spot my parents’ car and pull in next to them. I can see that they are arguing. Mom’s cheeks and eyes teary, and dad, he just looks angry. A kind of angry that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Mom sees Cordy and me and quickly changes her expression. Dad does as well, softening his features.

“Y/N, what took you so long?” She says, as we both leave our cars, trying to hide the fact that something is wrong.

“I said 30 minutes, right?” I look at her with confusion, “I mean, maybe it’s been a little longer than that, but not much.” I offer.

“We just thought… Maybe you changed your mind about coming here?” Dad looked at me, still clearly angry about something.

“No, why would I do that? Cordy? Is there any other burger place better than Joe’s?” I laugh, trying to break the tension, which I could do better if I knew why they were so anxious.

“Heck, no!” she yells, “Joe’s is the best!”

“What your dad is trying to say, Y/N, is that we can go somewhere else.”

“Nah, Cordy’s right, and it’s been too long since I’ve been here. I wonder if there’ll be anyone here that I’ll recognize,” I question out loud, “Dan, Jana… some of the other staff?”

“Come on Y/N! I’m starving!” Cordy grabs my hand and starts dragging me towards the entrance.

“Cordelia! Slow down!” Dad says harshly, “The food will still be there.”

“Yeah, but the faster we get there, the faster I can eat!”

I laugh at her as she pulls me inside. The place still looks the same, mostly; there are new flat screens on the walls, a fresh coat of paint, and updated furniture, but it’s still Joe’s.

“No fucking way,” a voice yells from behind the register. Mom quickly covers Cordy’s ears, who begins to laugh hysterically. “Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?”

I finally see who is calling me, “Jana? Oh, my God! It’s been so long!”

She pulls me for a hug. “What’s it been, 5, 6 years?”

Dad places our orders as mom takes Cordy to a booth by the window. Jana looks the same, only slightly more worn than when I had last seen her.

“Before I was in school full time, something like that, yeah,” I smile. “Just graduated, actually.”

“Wow! Y/N! That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you,” she offers a sad smile, “I know it didn’t look like it was gonna happen there for a while, but I’m glad you got what you wanted,” she says quietly.

“Thank you. It’s been tough, but it’ll be worth it. What about you?” I ask as she pulls away. “How have you been?” She pulls her left hand in front of her face, showing off the diamond ring on her finger. “Oh my God, congratulations! Who’s the lucky guy?”

She tells me all about her fiancé, a local boy who started working at Joe’s shortly after I stopped.

“And Y/N you’ll never guess who was in here the other day.”

“Who?” I ask, looking at her curiously. But before she has time to answer, a familiar voice fills the air.

Winchester.

My eyes go wide, and I start to pant. I step away from Jana, making my way towards the bathroom where I am unable to stop myself from vomiting. I’m panicking, I never expected to see him again. He had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. I do my best to compose myself, splashing water on my face. Why was he here after all these years? Once the color returns to my face, I return to the dining room, taking my seat next to Cordy, who has already made herself comfortable at the booth, coloring, not paying attention to anything. Mom gives me a look; we tried to warn you . I try to control my breathing as Jana delivers our food.

“So, who do we have here?” she says looking between Cordy and me.

“This is my sister, Cordy.” I laugh as she barely looks up from her page. “Cordy, this is Jana.”  

 “Of course!” Jana exclaims, “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner! She’s practically your twin! Except for her eyes.” 

“Yeah,” I say nervously. “We get that a lot, I think it’s just cause of the age gap.”

“Odd,” she looked us all in the eye, “you all have dark eyes.”

“Um, yeah—well, if—both parents have the recessive trait, there’s a 1 in 4 chance of the child having it,” I spouted, hoping she would buy the not-technically a lie.

“I guess I should have paid more attention in Biology,” she laughs “anything else I can get for y’all?”

“No, thank you, Jana,” dad answers, looking relieved.

I stare down at my plate, appetite gone. I watch as Cordy scarfs her burger down and then tells an outlandish story that she insists is true. “It’s a monster! It sneaks into the rooms of kids, sucks out their souls and then they die!” she says seriously. “Three kids from my school are in the hospital!”

“So, a monster is making the kids at your school sick?” Dad raises an eyebrow. “Delia, you know there’s no such thing as monsters.”

“It’s true!” she says loudly. “It’s a soul-eater!” Cordy pouts, upset that no one believes her.

“She’s got a point.” A familiar pair of green eyes walks towards our table, trying to appease the upset child. “It’s not actually eating their souls. But the good thing is there are people like me and my brother—Y/N?”

“Dean.” I wanted to die. It had been years since I had seen him, either of them. I stand up from the table, giving him an awkward hug. “You’re here on business?” I ask, desperately trying to keep my cool.  

“Yeah, S-Sam and I got into town a few days ago. Wow, Y/N, we didn’t think we’d ever see you again, it’s good to see you.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Sam?” he shouts. I don’t know if I can do this. “Sammy…c’ mere!”

I hear grumbling from a few feet away.

“Sam!” he yells. I’m gonna die of embarrassment . Cordy, none the wiser, laughs at the green-eyed man hollering. He looks down at her, “Hey princess, what’s your name?” he squats down to meet her eye level.

“Delia, that’s what everyone calls me, except Y/N, she calls me Cordy.” Her large expressive eyes look up at him.

“Well, can I call you Cordy as well?” Dean asks, and she nods. “Well Cordy, my name is Dean, and I know Y/N from a long time ago.” He leans in and lowers his voice, “Me and my brother, we take care of monsters. So I don’t want you to worry about that anymore, okay?” She happily nods as he turns away. “ SAM !”

“Dude, I was on the phone with the hosp—” Sam stops dead in his tracks 3 feet from our table. “Y/N/N,” he gasps. 

“Hey, Sam,” I somehow muster, “been a long time.”

“Y-yeah,” I can see the wheels turning in his head, “about 10 y-years?”

I turn to my parents, whose faces are showing an array of emotions. Some that don’t even make sense to me.

“About.” I glance down at Cordy, blissfully unaware of what was happening around her, and back up to him. “Right after graduation,” I mutter.

Somehow, he’s taller than I remember. I rarely thought about him, mostly because of the pain and anger it would bring.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He drags his hand through his hair. “I- I can’t believe you still live here. I thought for sure you were leaving.” There’s a bitterness in his tone that I can tell he’s trying to cover-up. “You’d always said…”

“I’m just visiting. We’re just here celebrating. Cordy insisted.”

“Cordy?” He notices the little girl at the table. “Who—?”

“Cordy,” I say, grabbing her attention. “I want you to meet someone.” My eyes fall onto my parents’ faces, which now have nothing but sheer panic written all over them. Cordy places her crayons down and gives a dramatic sigh. I move to the side, allowing her to stand in front of me but facing the brothers.

“Cordy, this is Sam, this is Dean’s brother, he helps him hunt monsters.” I look at Sam, who seems confused. “Sam, this is Cordelia.”

“Y/N!” she whines playfully, “don’t tell him my whole name! I don’t tell people your whole name!”

“I know how you feel.” He crouches down to meet her. “I don’t like when people use my whole name either. If you want, you can call me Sammy.”

“ Wow ,” Dean whispers from behind him. He always hated being called Sammy by anyone other than Dean. “ That is an honor, Cordy.”

“Your eyes look like mine,” she giggles. “Even the green specks!”

I watch as a variety of emotions play on Sam’s face. 

“Y-yeah,” his smile fades, and his eyes fill with confusion and panic, “they’re the same.”  

Next Chapter

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #spn family

[leahxx129]

Feels Like Home: The Truth (pt.5/final part) (Hvitserk x Reader)

Alright, so this is the final part to the Feels Like Home series. I know this was promised like 2 months ago but as I explained in a previous post - a break from Tumblr was essential for me. I hope you like the finale. :) Also, I inserted a ‘Keep Reading’ line, hopefully it’ll be visible to all of you.

Summary for pt.5: The raid was a roaring success and finally it’s time for you to explain everything to Hvitserk. The question is - will he be able to forgive you?

Warnings: description of homicide, cursing

Word count: 2.030-ish

Read PART1, PART2, PART3 and PART4.

* Moodboard is mine, images used are not. *

In the end, the raid turned out to be a roaring success. You made it out alive and as far as Ivar was concerned, the treasury’s content lived up to the stories he had heard, and he drained the place to the last coin.

Now, on your way back to Kattegat, you have some newly acquired thralls heat up two kegs of drinking water and fill the wooden tub in your cabin with it. Usually you can wait with the post-battle bath until you get home but this time you wish to cleanse yourself as soon as possible. The hot water makes your muscles relax and you catch yourself falling asleep when a soft knock on your door brings you back to consciousness.

“Come on in!” you signal your visitor to enter after stepping out of the tub and wrapping a cloth around your body.

Hvitserk’s face lights up at your sight.

“You are the only person I know who can conquer a land and still look breathtaking afterwards.” he says, earning a shy smile from you.

“Haven’t your father taught you that it is not decent to lie?”

“He has and I am not lying! Are you questioning my honesty yet again?”

“I would never dare do such a thing!”

You both chuckle and he pulls you into a tight hug. A familiar scent fills his nostrils – could he be imagining it, or your hair does smell like the wildflowers from the meadow?

“Ready to tell me everything?” he whispers sometime later, and you lean away to look into his eyes.

“No. But I made a promise and I always keep my word. Are you ready?”

He nods, then sits down on a chair next to the table and draws you into his laps. Looking into his eyes and knowing what you are about to say makes your chest ache, but you clear your throat and begin anyway.

“Do you remember the feast you had thrown for Ubbe’s birthday, just one full moon’s time before I left?”

“I do.”

“And do you remember how sick I felt during the feast?”

“Yes, I do. You had too much cherry wine so consequently I escorted you home to rest.”

You place a hand on the side of his face and caress his cheek with your thumb affectionately.

“It was not the cherry wine that made me feel sick, my love.” Your voice is laced with emotion, barely above whisper.

He knits his eyebrows in confusion, but it is only a matter of seconds and the wrinkles start relenting as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“Were you… were you with child?”

You nod and an excited, breathy laughter escapes his mouth. You try to memorize the sound of it as you are uncertain you will ever hear it again once you tell him the rest of the story.

Seeing you don’t share his joy, his happiness vanishes just as fast as it came.

“What is it, Y/N? What happened to my child?”

You get up from his lap, fill your cup and empty its content within seconds. Then repeat the whole procedure all over again, not minding the peculiar look you get from Hvitserk. There is no way you can get through this sober. Once you are done with your second round, you wipe your mouth and continue.

“My father found out I was carrying your child and I have never seen him more furious than that. He respected Ragnar, but he also believed that by making so many enemies, Ragnar created an environment not fit for a child, especially not fit for his grandchild. So he pulled some strings - granted a wish here, asked for a favor there – and ended up shipping me to England in order to marry an ambitious Saxon king.”

“King Willelmus?”

“Yes, him. At first, he was the perfect gentlemen a young girl in trouble such as myself could wish for. But then time passed and he began to reveal his true colors… Remember the strikes in the cell? I carved those with my nails after he’d imprisoned me there. He visited me every day and laughed in my face for believing he would welcome the bastard son of a pagan whore.”

Hvitserk’s face grows more somber with every word that leaves your lips and you can barely resist the urge to throw back another drink.

“Not very long after the imprisonment I delivered the baby, our son, and King Wil-“ your voice cracks and that’s when you realize you’ve been crying. After a few deep breaths you continue “… and King Willelmus strangled him in front of my eyes. A nun witnessed this and when I recovered, she gave me some gold and some silver, and she helped me escape. I travelled all around the world, came to know different cultures and different fighting styles – all in order to seek vengeance one day. And that’s what I did today.”

The silence that ensues screams louder than anyone you have ever heard dying in battle.

“Why?” Hvitserk finally speaks up, not looking at you.

“Why what?”

He elevates his gaze slowly and you can see he’s like a volcano, seconds away from erupting.

“Why did you not come back to Kattegat and tell me whAT HAPPENED?!” he roars the last word, making you flinch. “Was I unworthy of the truth, huh?! Did I do something to deserve being left out of avenging mY OWN SON?! We could have done it years ago and we could have brought many more sons into this world ever since!”

“Hvitserk, calm down and let me expl-“

Before you can finish, he jumps to his feet, knocking back the chair he’s been sitting on and grabs you by the throat.

“Hvitserk… I-I can’t… breathe…” you try to plead with him to no avail. His grip is firm and strong.

“You know, here I thought I was favored by the Gods since they gave me a second chance with you… but it turns out they are just taunting me…” he whispers, his mind still visibly clouded by rage. “Tell me, why did you come back to Kattegat now, really? Was it honestly your father’s death or did you know about the raid?”

Though you don’t say – you can’t say – anything, your eyes give away the answer.

“Just what I assumed.”

Suddenly he lets go of you and you fall to the ground. He is about to storm out the door when you call after him with a hoarse voice.

“Hvitserk! You promised you would take good care of my heart, but now you are breaking it…”

He takes a quick, pitiful glance at you.

“I don’t believe there is anything I am breaking right now. In fact, I doubt there ever was anything I could have taken good care of!”

He slams the door shut so hard it almost falls off.

You just lie there on the ground at the exact spot you fell on and stare into the void, trying to comprehend what just happened. Then a scream makes its way out of your lungs and you begin banging one of your palms against the wooden floor until you feel no pain, just see the blood.

A huge hand covers yours to stop you from doing any more harm.

Bjorn.

You just look at him for a while, not knowing what to say.

“Have you been eavesdropping, Bjorn?” you finally decide on something and a sad, lopsided smile forms on his face.

“No. You and Hvitserk were so loud I believe the whole crew heard it – except maybe for the warriors that were deafened in the fight.”

“I’m not in the mood for jesting, Bjorn.” You try to sound menacing but the tears streaming down your face undermine your plan.

“I know. I’m not here for the jokes, I’m here for the tears.”

He pulls you into his chest, muffling your cries and sobs.

Hvitserk is sitting in the Great Hall, looking at the plate in front of him with no appetite. What is wrong with him? The music is too loud, the cheerful people annoy him and not even the food or the mead interest him at the slightest.

“What is wrong, big brother? Why aren’t you enjoying the celebration? We came back richer than ever. You could at least drink to that!” Ivar’s words shake him back from his own thoughts.

He pulls a face at his little brother, raises his horn and starts drinking from it.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it? The more you do that the less you’ll feel upset about Y/N leaving Kattegat.”

Hvitserk almost chokes on the ale.

“What did you just say?” he questions Ivar while wiping his mouth.

“I said Y/N is leaving. She said she had no business here anymore, so she intends to sail away.”

“It’s true.” Bjorn chips in. “But I think that if you hurry, you might be able to stop her from doing so.”

Hvitserk’s heart has never beaten faster than now, not even when he went on his first raid ever.

What should he do? Should he go after you? Or let you go? What do the Gods want?

Suddenly, Ubbe’s words start echoing in his ears ‘Let me tell you what I see! I see a miserable man drenching in his own self-pity and insecurities and only the Gods know how tired I am of it! Gods, Hvit, do you even understand what is going on here? She was taken away from you, but fate is offering a second chance! Do you know how rare that is?’.

He stands up abruptly and runs out of the Great Hall.

Hvitserk considers himself fit but by the time he gets to the docks there is almost no air in his lungs. And even that little what remained gets knocked out by an invisible force once he discovers that your ship is gone.

“No... no, no, no!” he whispers frantically to himself as his eyes start watering.

This must be a deception. You cannot be gone. Not again.

He feels like the rug has been pulled out from under his feet and he almost tumbles.

What is he to do now? He can’t go back to the feast.

His legs start working before his brain does. After a considerable amount of walking they stop and Hvitserk finds himself in the meadow of wildflowers. 

In the middle there’s you, illuminated by the moonlight, resembling a goddess now more than ever.

“Y/N? Is that you? I-I thought you sailed away.”

You turn around at the sound of your name and your eyes go wide.

“Hvitserk? I-I intended to but I just simply could not. I felt like I needed to be here. But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

He rushes to you wordlessly, cups your face and presses his lips to yours forcefully.

“I am so sorry for not hearing you out, min elskede!” he says, gasping for air once you break the kiss. “And for all the things I said! I did not mean any of it!”

“No, no, no! Do not apologize! I should be the one begging for your forgiveness because of all the things I have done and all the things I haven’t… I believed for the longest time that a feeble woman like me who couldn’t even protect her own son would never be a worthy wife to you in the eyes of the Gods, and-”

He places his index finger on your lips to prevent you from completing your sentence.

“You were always worthy of me and I was always worthy of you. We were fated to be together. Do you know why I’m certain?” he pulls you closer so that your figure melts into his. “Because this feels like home. It always has and always will.”

You stand there like that, embracing each other in the moonlight for only the Gods know how long.

But time does not really matter, now does it?

You have a lifetime ahead of you and even after that, you will spend an eternity together in Valhalla.

#Hvitserk Ragnarsson #Hvitserk Whiteshirt #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk imagine #Hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #feels like home #Final Chapter #hvitserk fanfic #hvitserk fanfiction

[spectraspecs-writes]

Leviathan - Chapter 103

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 102. Chapter 104.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

It takes them about a half hour to take all my stuff. Mostly because I made it difficult for them. By the time they’ve got all my stuff off, they are furious. But like a patient kind of furious, you know? Because they think they’ve got some big surprise in store for me. They think I’ve just got a mouth and nothing to back it up. Like I’m all bark and no bite. They’re in for a big surprise when they find out this kath hound has fangs.

They don’t even bother to blindfold me or nothing as they walk me from the detention area, where everyone else is, and the cell block. At least I won’t need a map to know where I’m going. I just have to know all these turns, get some landmarks in my head.

There’s a cell open, just for me. The Sith trooper gets close to me to push me in. If I can get him to get that close one more time, I can get his passcard out of his pocket. “Come on, girlie,” he says, tired of me, “Into the cell. Let's go, I haven't got all day to waste on you. I need to get back to my post.”

“Quit crowding me!” I say, pushing back against him, “Sheesh, I've met Gamorreans who didn't smell as bad as you Sith.”

Nope, that doesn’t get him close. “You think you're pretty funny, don't you?” he says, “But you're only making things worse for yourself.”

“How come every time you open your mouth to talk the scent of rancor dung comes out?”

Nope, that didn’t do it either. “Maybe a little time in solitary confinement will teach you the proper respect for the Sith! Now, get into that cell!” He shoves me in.

“Who designed those Sith uniforms anyway?” I goad, and I hope this one works because I’m running out of ideas, “A blind Rodian with a sick sense of humor?”

Now he gets close. But not quite close enough. “That's funny,” he says sarcastically, “You should tell that one to the torturer when he comes to deal with you.”

Almost got him. Maybe if I act scared he’ll get a little closer, close enough. “What?” I say sweetly and innocently, “You're… you're going to torture me?”

Got him! “No snappy comeback this time? The thought of torture scares you, hmm?” Almost got it… “Well, it should! The Sith have ways to inflict pain you can't even imagine.” Like the pain you’ll get when your superior realizes a 15 year old Twi’lek stole your passcard? “It may be a few hours before your torture begins; we're busy interrogating your friends right now.” So there’s somebody important with Rena right now? Good to know. “Hey, I know!” the trooper says like he’s being clever, “You could use this time to think up witty ways to beg for mercy.” He closes the cell on me and walks away laughing.

“Or,” I whisper to myself, “I could use the keycard I lifted from your pocket to slice into the security panel and get myself out of this cell.” This looks like one of the simplest systems I’ve ever cracked, geez. “Piece of cake!” I say, “I wonder when people will stop underestimating me?”

Now comes the fun part! Like a big game of hide and seek, except dangerous. Griff and me used to break into the Vulkar base, and he taught me how to walk quietly. He had a sound-dampening stealth unit, but he couldn’t afford two, so I had to be quiet and stealthy without one. He taught me that if I set my heel and my toe down at the same time, it would muffle the sound of my footsteps. So I shift over to the opposite wall and peer around the corner. Looking for a guard or something. He’s got his back turned. I quickly cross the hallway over to the footlockers at the end. Riot gear and contraband - awesome. Both are super easy to break open. My stuff now! There’s some armor, a couple blasters, and some medpacks in the first one, and some computer spikes and a stealth field generator in the other. Plus some other stuff, but I don’t want to load myself down with stuff I don’t need right now. If they had a vibroblade I’d totally use that, but they’re just normal swords. Plus I’ve got the advantage from a distance. Even with the armor on, I can’t take too many hits, and I’m not really strong enough to do a lot of damage with a normal sword. Plus, this is just like that program I did with HK earlier! I’ve got this!

“Psst!” Huh? “Psst!” I don’t think that’s a Sith. I’m being whispered at by a Rodian in a cell.

He starts whimpering at me in Rodese, but I have to stop him. I’ve never been good at understanding Rodese. “I’m sorry,” I whisper back, “I don’t understand you.”

He mumbles a bit to himself, then says in broken Huttese, “You not Sith! Help me out of this cell, and me help you!”

I don’t know… I’m only here to help Rena and everyone else. I don’t know this guy. I don’t think the Sith are right at all, but maybe this guy is in prison for a reason. “Who are you?” I ask.

“Evil Sith unjustly capture me and my ship! They think we spies. They torture all the crew, trying to get information.” This Sith really love torture, huh? “But we not have any information to give. But Sith not care. They ‘interrogate’ captain until his mind snap. Then they grab first mate. Then navigator… they all crazy now. Minds gone.” Oh my gosh, that’s terrible!” So sad, but they nothing but animals now. Me lowest rank on ship, but now me only one left. Soon Sith come to interrogate me, too. But me not know anything! Me just… uh… me just trader in ‘rare’ goods.”

Huh? “What do you mean by ‘rare’ goods?”

“Me bring things to people in need,” he says, “People who need things they can't get normally.”

Hang on. No. Way. “You’re a smuggler?” I say, “That’s so cool!”

“Me helps people, and people helps me!” he says, “You helps me, and me helps you, yes?”

“How can you help me?”

He gets close to the force field. “Me have something special. Something you can use on ship. Something very powerful… an ICE breaker.” A what now? “You use it to override Sith security programs.”

“That sounds so cool!” But wait. “How did you get in here?”

He grins. “Sith, uhm, Sith not very thorough in search, hehe.”

But where could he have kept it that they wouldn’t -- “Eww! That’s gross!”

“Think what you will! But me have way into computers, and computers have way into hangar. Me can get off ship eventually, while you still running around corridors, fodder for guards.”

Well, I mean… I was just thinking about how I have no way to get into the computers on my own. I can get past any door, get into any secured space, but I’m not really good with computers. Neither was Griff, there wasn’t really anything he could teach me about them, you know? I don’t really have a choice here. “Get cards from guards to get me out of cell. Me not want to be here when Sith torture me. You get me out, and me give you ICE breaker. It better than a hundred computer spikes!”

I scoff. “I don’t need to get any cards,” I say, and I pop open the security panel. “For a huge planet conquering operation, the Sith really need to bump up their security measures.” This is too easy! The force field goes down, no problem.

The Rodian looks from me to the panel in shock. “Maybe you no need ICE breaker. You talented little girl.”

“Who you callin’ little?”

He smiles and gives me the ICE breaker anyway. “Here, you helped me, now me helps you. Me has tuned the breaker to work on the brig computers, so you use it on brig level. It not work anywhere else.” My fingers feel gross. “Remember, the breaker only good for one use, so you not waste it. You go fight guards, me go and hide now, wait for chance to get to ship.” He rushes off.

I’m not sure how much fighting I’m going to do, either, though. I remember where the detention cells are - I think I’m just going to activate the stealth field and just sneak my way there. Any Sith I could take on, Rena, Carth, and Bastila could do way better and in way less time.

I activate my stealth field and begin the slow careful walk to the detention area. There aren’t a whole lot of Sith around here, which is weird, but I guess most of them are on the command level. You’d think more would be here, though, since Carth and Bastila are both high-level targets. That’s how Rena and Carth ended up on Taris, they said the Sith attacked their ship looking for Bastila. And Carth was a big deal in the Mandalorian Wars, right? Plus he knows Admiral Karath, so that personal connection has to mean something.

I don’t know why they’re so interested in Rena, though. I mean, sure, she’s bad ass, but so is Canderous and they weren’t so interested in him. I can’t figure what their motivation was for that.

We do seem to be the hot topic of conversation among the guards, though. “She completely buckled under the pressure,” I hear one of them say, sort of laughing, “All the Admiral had to do was threaten her boyfriend, she answered every question!”

“Couldn’t stand to see him torture, eh?” another says, “Not at all like the Revan I remember.” But Revan’s dead. And a dude, right? Unless… what if Revan was a woman the whole time? Maybe that’s why the Sith were so interested in Bastila! No way, Bastila’s a Sith Lord? And they tortured Canderous? Bastila’s been helping us the whole time though! Why would she help us if she’s Revan?

“She doesn’t remember it,” the first says, “The Jedi must have wiped her memory.” Oh, so that’s why Bastila’s been helping us! She doesn’t remember. That’s a pretty horrible thing for the Jedi to do, though! I always thought they were the good guys! I mean, I guess I could be mad at Bastila, but it seems to me that if she doesn’t remember being Revan, it doesn’t really matter anymore. When I picture her in my head, I don’t see any Dark Lord, I see my friend, who’s helped us through everything! Someone who’s like a big sister to me. And it’s not like I’m not going to save her. It’s the right thing to do. I don’t think I should tell her, though. She might not believe me.

“I’ll bet Lord Malak will be surprised to see her,” the second one says, “Any word on when he’s arriving?”

“I know he’s on his way,” the first one says, “Admiral Karath called him shortly after we brought them on board. It shouldn’t be too long now.” Then I better get moving! I don’t want Bastila to still be here when Malak gets here. Since she’s Revan… I don’t even know what could happen! And I don’t want to find out.

The detention area is locked up tight, though. It shouldn’t be a problem for me, though, right? Okay… this is taking a little while.

… that didn’t work. Try again?

… geez, this is harder than it looks…

… why is this so hard to break into? Darn it!

Okay. Time for a different approach. This is a really hard security system. Guess that makes up for how simple it was earlier. If I can find a computer, I can use this ICE breaker and open the door. I think it would have to be a brig computer, though, not just the first one I find. The Rodian said he tuned it for this level, but since it’s only got the one use, I don’t want to risk it. So back to the cell block area.

I didn’t see one near the cells themselves, so there must be one in a control office nearby. The first door I come across close to the cells is just before them. It’s not secured so it opens right up.

Two troopers. Okay. They don’t see me yet, I’ve still got the stealth field up. And I can’t get at the computer because one of them is in front of it. And I can’t afford to wait, either, if Malak’s coming. Who knows when he’ll be here? I’ve got to get everyone out before he does. Maybe Bastila won’t even find out she’s Revan if I can get everyone out before Malak gets here. So I’m gonna have to take care of this myself. I let the door close first, so nobody in the hallway will know what’s going down. I slowly pull out the blaster and fire off two quick shots at the one near the computer. He didn’t even see me coming, wasn’t ready at all, and he falls against the console and hits the floor. I turn to the second one and fire before he can even pull out his blaster. Whoo. That went well. Awesome.

I stand at the computer and pull out the ICE breaker, hook it up to the computer. It processes for a little bit. Then, “ENTER COMMAND.” Cool. Open detention area. “DETENTION AREA OPEN.” Log out.

The walk back to the detention area is just as slow as it was the first time. But the door is open. Another computer terminal, but this one isn’t even secured. Guess they were counting on that heavy door to keep anyone out. I unlock the cells and the storage area at the same time.

“Mission!” I hear Zaalbar call. He comes over and hugs me tightly. Canderous smiles at me, trying to hide it but I can tell he’s proud of me. Glad I’m all right. Then Carth, Bastila, and Rena.

“Good job, Mission!” Carth says, “I knew you wouldn't let us down. When we get out of this I'm going to see you get a medal from the Republic for everything you've done!”

“It wasn’t that much,” I say with a shrug, trying to be modest.

“You did good work, kid,” Canderous says.

Really, though, I’m just… glad I could help.

#knights of the old republic #kotor #star wars #autistic artist #fiction #specs writes stuff #kotor fic #mission vao #leviathan #chapter 103 #wow not so many tags on this one huh #guess not having rena in there will do that #in which mission takes the available information and draws the wrong conclusion #i read mission make that conclusion and laugh so hard #what a baby she is #but those are spoilers aren't they #canderous ordo #carth onasi #bastila shan

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Ship Repairs

This actually happened... mid-October, but somehow I never transferred this chat log, so HERE IT IS NOW. Alastor helps Sir Pentious repair his airship; they take a break in the middle for a picnic lunch and chatter about things like magic and personal boundaries and conquering Hell, you know, normal friend things.

Sir Pentious

Work on the airship continued, now with the benefit of having a giant tentacle monster loading crates into the creation. It was almost complete, with decor really being the finishing touches needed. Pentious would have time to work on mechanisms and making sure everything *there* was in tip top shape... And with Alastor here, it seemed things were taking no time at all.

Other than the fact when Pentious would demand various tools, he wouldn't call them by their actual names, but rather whatever he'd come up with, which likely made the entire cooperative experience much more infuriating.

But now it was a break for lunch! Tea, sandwiches and cuts of meat. Nothing overly sweet this time. There's some brandy on hand if necessary.

Alastor

On the bright side, Alastor was learning an entirely new vocabulary of made-up tool names. Learn something new every day, right?

"Now, I'm no engineer—but it looks to me like you're gonna be done here in just another few days, is that right?" In lieu of any sort of proper etiquette, he'd started spearing cuts of meat with one claw to eat.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious sips at his tea, watching Alastor with one opened eye. And at least fifteen others.

"YESs, THAT IS THE PLAN. SHOULD I BE ABLE TO KEEP TO SCHEDULE, BUT YOU KNOW. THINGSs COULD CHANGE AT A MOMENT'Ss NOTICE."

Alastor

"Of course! All schedules are tentative down here." He says so flippantly enough; but there's real nervousness buried beneath it. This ship was smashed twice in short sequence; there are, he has no doubt, overlords and other heavy hitters who must smell blood in the water.

He pushes his concerns down for the moment; he doesn't plan on leaving without addressing them. "Even so. Good to see this thing in almost working order again."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious has definitely *thought* about such things, but also.... He's been pleasantly distracted by Valera that he hasn't worked himself to second death trying to fix the airship.

"YES, WELL, THANKS ARE IN ORDER. IT HELPS TO HAVE MORE HANDS ON DECK! OR TENTACLES, AS IT WERE, HAHA."

Good to have them NOT ripping his ship apart, again.

Alastor

"Any time!" He half bows in acknowledgment of the thanks. "It's about time said tentacles did something *useful* around here, anyway."

Good to not be ripping the ship apart again.

Sir Pentious

He's going to take a sandwich and start biting... Just little bites. Mentlegen.

"OH? IS DESTROYING YOUR ENEMIES NOT USEFUL?"

Alastor

"I've never considered you an enemy." The answer's out before it occurs to Alastor that Sir Pentious was quite likely including *other* potential enemies among the pool of his monstrous friend's possible targets. "And barely anyone down here that I DO consider an enemy has hardware big enough to necessitate calling him out! So—no, not much use for him, really." SMOOTH RECOVERY. He's going to stuff half a sandwich in his mouth and hope Sir Pentious focuses on the latter half of his statement.

Sir Pentious

..... <:looking:744577544283750520>

He is Looking at you Alastor.

..... <:squint:548214854138200065>

"... *YES*, WELL. FOR SOMEONE YOU DO NOT CONSSSIDER AN ENEMY, YOU CERTAINLY HAVE A WAY OF TAKING THE STEAM OUT OF HIS ENGINES." Pentious two of those times are entirely your fault. (Maybe even three.)

Alastor

For the next thirty seconds Alastor's number one priority is pretending that didn't cut him to the bone. He arches an eyebrow. "Sometimes someone you don't consider an enemy aims a cannon with a barrel wider than you're tall at your face, and you find you don't have many options but to aim something bigger back."

Brandy sounds better than tea right about now. He's gonna snag that bottle and pour some out. "I could've dodged, I suppose. It would have made me look bad and the hotel would've taken the shot—but I COULD have." A shrug.

Sir Pentious

His tail curls a little more around their picnic area. He's so much longer now. Pentious closes his eyes, grinning just before sipping his tea.

"I WOULDN'T WANT YOU TO GO DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT, IF I AM BEING COMPLETELY FRANK! WHERE'SSSS THE FUN IN THAT? SSSTILL, YOU DEFENDING A HOTEL? YOUR *LUST* FOR ENTERTAINMENT REALLY DOES MAKE YOU UNPREDICTABLE. WHY, YOU COULD TURN HELL UPSIDE DOWN IF IT MEANT OBSERVING THE BUSINESS VENTURES OF A RATHER AMBITIOUS INSECT!"

This is a. Compliment? Or a drag? It's uncertain, but Penny is looking very smug about it.

Alastor

That's one crisis dodged. "MY lust for entertainment, you say! Right after saying you'd rather a fight with me be fun than easy! I think you've got a bit of entertainment lust yourself!"

He's gonna take it as a neutral statement of fact. "Ha! Maybe. I don't know about turning Hell *upside down,* though—I'm better at knocking things over than setting them back upright. Now, if anything around here is capable of turning Hell upside down..." He gestures in a way meant to take in the airship. "And not for any mere insect, either."

Sir Pentious

*PURRRRRRR*. That's such a loud Cobra purring. Look at him preening, as he brushes his hood over his shoulder, and holds his talons just below his chin... He is so pretty, look at him.

"YES, INDEED, ONLY A MAN OF MY CALIBER, A DEMON SUCH AS I HAS THE CAPABILITY, THE *DRIVE* TO CONQUER AND RULE ALL OF HELL! AND ONCE I FULLY CRACK THE CAPABILITIES OF INFERNAL ENERGIES, I WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE!"

Alastor

Alastor is Looking. A very pretty snake—and a *proud* snake, which just enhances the prettiness.

He's Looking too much. He's started leaning toward Sir Pent. He hastily leans back. "Now, what's this 'infernal energy' business you've been up to lately? Because it sounds to *me* like you're trying to tap into the same power source us magic users have been utilizing." He wiggles his fingers, *magic users*—alchemical and astrological symbols dance in red around his fingertips. "Is that about right?"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious seems to be somewhat acclimated to Alastor leaning towards him--his own head is slowly leaning away, unconscious of his own actions therein. Personal space.

His claws wave away the symbols, and Pentious grins at him, "MORE OR LESS, YES. THERE IS A LOT OF ENERGY THAT COURSES THROUGH THE GROUND AND THE VERY AIR IN HELL. WHEN A NEW SINNER ARRIVES, THERE IS ALWAYS A FLUCTUATION IN THE AMOUNT OF INFERNAL ENERGY AT ANY TIME!! I HAVE COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT IT IS *TIED* TO SSSOULS, AND THAT THE EYES GROWING AROUND HELL (AT LEAST THE ONES I DIDN'T PUT THERE) ARE LOADED WITH INFERNAL ENERGY."

Alastor

Alastor certainly isn't unconscious of being leaned away from. He suppresses a wince. Right. That's something else he needs to bring up. And sooner rather than later.

But the self-consciousness only has a chance to last a couple of seconds as he's dragged back into the fantastical idea of channeling Hell's own energy through machinery.

"And YOU'VE figured out how to—what, convert that energy into electricity? Or just power machinery on the energy itself, unconverted?" Whichever Sir Pentious was doing, he'd certainly demonstrated the concept respectably enough to Alastor—channeling Alastor's own energy to power that absurdly big gun. "I can only imagine what kind of power you're going to have at your disposal once you've scaled that up! Turning manipulating the power of souls from a skill into a science... Why, who WOULDN'T you have the ability to overpower?" He's already busy mentally measuring up Sir Pentious's odds against Lucifer. No, probably not yet; but getting ever closer.

Sir Pentious

Oh, look at him. He's *preening* again. Every time he's praised and uplifted like this, he just looks like he's *so* proud of himself.

"OH, YES, UNFILTERED FOR NOW! BUT I WILL LIKELY WORK ON WAYS TO FILTER OUT THE IMPURITIES... IT IS SSSUCH AN ABUNDANT ENERGY SSOURCE THAT WHEN IT COLLIDESS WITH SOMETHING... MORE EYES ARE FORMED, AND THUS, MORE PATCHES OF ENERGY. OF COURSE, ONLY A DEMON SUCH AS *I* WOULD THINK TO UTILIZE IT!"

Alastor

"I certainly haven't seen anyone else trying!" Which is something, because plenty could have. *Alastor* could have—he himself works with that energy every day, it's the power behind his magic and even his machinery.

But Alastor has only ever used it as he's always used magic, tamed through his intent and his will. Like trying to move water from a river to a pond by cupping it in his hands—and here's Sir Pentious building a canal.

"How much have you looked into technology that's already powered by souls?" Alastor summons up his cane and holds it across their spread of food, microphone out. It rolls its eye as it tries to make eye contact with all of Sir Pentious's. "It works just like any other microphone—but it's not running on a battery, it's running on me. I couldn't begin to tell you how. The way I see it, either you already know that part and you can tell me—or you don't know, and studying it could give your research a boost."

Sir Pentious

Alastor's question has him looking over at the deerman with a bit of a squint. Ah, this topic... He'd attempted to keep his knowledge of this kind of thing on the *down-low*, but it didn't surprise him all that much that Alastor of all people would be more aware of it. Sir Pentious looks more closely at the cane, studying its singular eye, and he takes his hat off, holding the accessory close to it.

"IT IS RATHER A MIX OF THE TWO, ACTUALLY. I DO NOT FULLY UNDERSTAND IT, MYSELF, BUT I DO KNOW THAT OUR BODIES, THE STATES OF OUR SOULS AND MINDS HAVE AN IMPACT ON THE HELLSCAPE AROUND US, OR AT THE VERY LEAST, OUR *PERSONAL* HELLSCAPES."

The Hat is Looking at the Cane. .... Big grin!

Alastor

"Well, do you need another test subject to help you understand more? I'm connected to the cane, I can manipulate radios, I've got limited skill with some other machines... some of it's just broadcasting signals, but some of it's magic. Hell, I've got radio parts IN me—but you're going to have to take me on a couple more picnics before I agree to any dissections!" Look at him so eager to offer assistance, please let him help take over Hell, oh please, oh please— "I'm sure your research is miles beyond anything I'm built to do, but if there's anything I can naturally do more efficiently that you can copy—why reinvent the wheel?"

The cane winks at the hat. It's just a blink. There's no actual way to tell it's winking.

Sir Pentious

HMMMM. Pentious' tongue flicks, and he suddenly leans in VERY close. His hand reaches to grab Alastor's arm, and he begins inspecting him.

"YOU ARE A LITTLE *THIN* TO BE IMPALED WITH MY  SIPHONING TOOL. IT WOULD GO RIGHT THROUGH YOU, BUT PERHAPSSSS I COULD WORK ON MAKING SOMETHING SSSMALLER." Another tongue flick, "YES, YES, LIKE A..." OH he's just going off on experimental mumbling. Mad Genius here.

The Hat is Looking Away.

Alastor

That arm is Sir Pentious's now, Alastor doesn't need it. It's safe to lean in now, right?

For the moment, Alastor forcefully swallows back the urge to fling out suggestions and questions, instead listening carefully with ears perked toward the mad genius mumbles.

Well, fine, maybe the cane didn't want to make eye contact. It looks away too.

Sir Pentious

Pentious doesn't lean back this time, though his hood opens up as he rambles on. Big and showy snake.

"HM HM! YESSS, I SHOULD LIKE TO RAM ALL KINDS OF THINGS INTO YOU, HA HA! FOR SCIENCE. FOR DISSSSCOVERY."

He smiles far above his eyes at Alastor. Sir Pentious was looking more in color than usual. This is one happy and energetic Cobra.

The Hat looks back at the cane, making a quizzical expression........

Alastor

Don't mind the brief burst of shocked static as Alastor processes the words that just came out of Sir Pentious's mouth. "... Well! You know me: high pain tolerance and far too curious for my own good! It sounds like an agonizingly good time! Call me over to ram whatever you'd like into me any time you want!"

... Is the hat looking at the cane again? It glances over to check—oh, yes, it is, look away, look away quick. ... Check again.

Sir Pentious

The hat is looking at Pentious now like B/. Penny is ignoring his sassy chapeau as he goes right back to preening.... Dainty claw taps to his hood.

"I SHALL CALL YOU OVER WHEN I HAVE SSSSPACE TO STRAP YOU DOWN TO A TABLE! NYA HA HAAAAAAA!!!"

Alastor

And just when the cane thought it was making some real progress with the hat.

"I'll be eagerly awaiting your call!" It's a date. Well, not a date, but close enough.

Oh, right, there's still food here, isn't there? Alastor nearly forgot. He's gonna grab another sandwich. "Say! While we're on the topic of ramming into each other's personal space..."

Smoothest conversational segue in Hell's history. Ladies and gentlemen, a professional radio host at work.

Sir Pentious

..... That segue is enough for Sir Pentious to realize he said something weird before, and he lights up like a pink light bulb.

"I DIDN'T MEAN THAT IN A *PERVERTED WAY*, ALASSSTOR!!!"

Alastor

"I didn't think you did! I know you m—I didn't mean it that way either!" Okay segue a little faster, Alastor. "It's about—I wanted to talk to you about Broadway."

Sir Pentious

He's already in full Pentious Pout as he replaces his hat on his head. Arms folded. Huff.

"ABOUT BROADWAY? WHAT ISS IT?? I DO NOT WANT TO GO AGAIN FOR A LITTLE WHILE, I HAVE A SCHEDULE TO KEEP TO!"

Alastor

Farewell, hat; cane hardly got to know thee.

"No, about last trip. There was—well." Don't tiptoe around the topic, remember, Sir Pentious prefers direct and plain. Alastor cuts out about five sentences of easing his way into the topic and plunges in. "You shoved me off of you." (And yes, it HAS been haunting him ever since.) "Now, believe it or not, I'm actually putting a little effort into being less of an irritation than usual. If my presence is getting on your nerves... just say so. Preferably before I've become so annoying that you feel the need to bodily push me away." A wan smile. "My goal is to AVOID reaching that point, see."

Sir Pentious

Well, that wasn't what he was expecting. Pentious squints, trying to remember. So much happened that day...

"COME ON, MAN! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REMEMBER THAT? COULD YOU BE MORE SPECIFIC???"

Apparently Broadway wasn't enough. Pentious may have smushed all of New York into Broadway. Even the restaurant was Broadway.

"I DO NOT RECALL DOING ANYTHING OF THE SSSORT!"

Alastor

"Oh, well! That's comforting." And also embarrassing, if it was such a not big deal that Sir Pentious doesn't even remember it. "During the musical. When we were leaning on each other.  Not long after we were joking about... how much we don't like physical contact." Ah. "That was it. That was the hint to get off that I missed, wasn't it."

Sir Pentious

Pentious looks at him like he's speaking a different language, and he recalls everything going on at that point. These two having a laugh, and then Valera withdrawing and ignoring him suddenly.

He frowns, remembering her hand slipping out of his even though he had squeezed it lovingly. They'd talked about that after but it had hurt his feelings.

He waves Alastor off! "NO, YOU BLITHERING IDIOT! IT WASN'T ABOUT THAT AT ALL!!! VALERA PULLED AWAY FROM ME AND I WAS AGITATED AFTER BECAUSE OF HER BEHAVIOR. WHEN THAT HAPPENED, I WAS NO LONGER IN THE MOOD FOR FRIVOLITY!!"

Alastor

“Oh!” He doesn’t quite heave a sigh of relief, but there’s a static hiss as he exhales. “Well, don’t I look a fool, all this time and it didn’t have a thing to do with me! But give me a little credit, here—how was I supposed to guess that you were shoving *me* because of *her*?”

Sir Pentious

"WELL I DIDN'T THINK IT TO BE SUCH A *BIG DEAL* THAT YOU WOULD HARBOR IT FOR WEEKS." He is Looking at you Alastor, like a man on the brink of Realizing Things.

Except he's Pentious, so he just remains on that brink.

Alastor

Alastor’s #1 survival skill is talking himself back from the brink. “Of course you wouldn’t think so! Not to put too fine a point on it, but at the moment I’m in a far more precarious position than you!” His smile is nearly a grimace. “YOU, after all, are not engaged in ongoing efforts to convince a man you messily backstabbed that you’re worth the risk of keeping around! You don’t have to wonder what little irritation might be the last thing he’s willing to stand out of you. You’ve got nothing to prove.”

He lets that thought linger for only a split second; and then hurries onward: “So my initial request still stands. Tell me if I’m going too far—on anything—BEFORE I’m past the point of no return. You have enough to resent me for. I’m trying not to add more.”

Sir Pentious

Alastor is also very good at just talking a lot, and Pentious is listening but also shifting his mouth from side to side. His hood flares out and he throws his arms up!

"WELL I DIDN'T TELL YOU BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A BIG DEAL TO ME!!! I MAKE A POINT OF BEING DIRECT, ALASSSTOR ! YOU ARE THE ONE WITH DIFFICULTIES ON THAT FRONT, NOT I!"

Alastor

“Clearly it wasn’t! So it’s—The request is for future reference. For situations where it DOES apply.”

Sir Pentious

"WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?? OF COURSE I WOULD TELL YOU!!"

He stretched out his bowtie, "I HAVE CLASS, AFTER ALL!"

Alastor

“Well, good! Glad that falls under your criteria for class, then.”

Mission accomplished, he supposes. On the other hand, he just tried to be about as direct as a bullet and on top of that spilled approximately 1/3 of his heart to Sir Pentious, and he’s not sure if any of it registered at all.

That’s fine. He’s got brandy.

Sir Pentious

Unfortunately, things always took a while to really register for Sir Pentious. He'd never had friends he could rely on, and even his previous partnership with Match had been, from his perspective, business. Although working together with someone so closely was different for Pentious, too... He was awkward and aggressive and questioning everything.

So he pours himself more tea and looks away, without turning his head... And thinks over the things Alastor has said to him. He was trying so, so hard to be appear trustworthy, and that made the snake's paranoid brain more suspicious!

Which sucked. He liked Alastor's company, which was why he didn't want this to all go belly up. His tail curls closer, now, sliding against the deer's backside. You now have a sofa.

"... ALASSSTOR. I *DO* RECOGNIZE YOUR EFFORT. CONTINUE TO BE UPFRONT WITH ME, I CANNOT PROMISSSE WHAT MY..." He gestures, vaguely, then points to his head with an ashamed expression.

"JUST! *BELIEVE* ME WHEN I SSSAY I WILL *TELL* YOU."

Alastor

He is IMMEDIATELY leaning back on that sofa oh hell yes he's been trying to avoid touching Sir Pentious too much and being able to lean back against him is bliss. It's like a hug, except minus any and all features that resemble a hug in the slightest.

He waves off Sir Pentious's embarrassed disclaimer. "That's all I ask for! I'd like you to notice it. I don't expect you to TRUST it. Getting you to trust it is my job." And a job that he takes zealously seriously. He had been allied with his own Sir Pentious fifteen years before abruptly betraying him; if it takes another fifteen years before this one is completely comfortable with him, it will be fully justified and worth the wait. "I believe you. And thank you."

Sir Pentious

C O m f Y.

Sir Pentious turns his head, idly fidgeting with his jacket. WELL NOW HE FELT AWKWARD. And sweaty. Why did he feel SWEATY he didn't SWEAT. Penny pouting...

He reaches for the brandy, pouring himself a glass!!!

Alastor

That was, in Alastor's opinion, quite enough time spent talking about things like trust and communication. It's high time for Alastor to move them on to another topic. He'd thought of one earlier, what was it?

"Oh! Before I forget again—to celebrate the ship repairs, I got a little housewarming gift!" He pauses. "... Shipwarming gift. Want it now, or should it wait until all the repairs are finished?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious turns his head RIGHT BACK to Alastor in interest. A present??? A present! His hood floops open as he brings a hand out in interest, "OH? A SHIPWARMING GIFT??? HOW THOUGHTFUL! WHAT ISS IT? I AM *DYING* TO KNOW! HAHA!!" That clearly took his mind off of the awkwardness of the previous conversation. Eager to get away from vulnerability, thy name is Sir Pentious.

Alastor

"So, right now it is!" Alastor kind of thought it might be. He opens up a portal in mid-air to reach through and rummage around until he finds and retrieves a simple paper bag with the top rolled shut. "Here. I suspect it's going to take a little explaining." But he'll give Sir Pentious a chance to see what it is first.

Inside the bag are five little pouches of cotton gauze dyed red, tied shut with two long loops of fabric so tightly they'd have to be cut open. Visible beneath the gauze is a second layer to the pouches, clearly made out of snakeskin (guess whose); and between the gauze and the semi-translucent snakeskin, it's probably too difficult to see any further inside. Each double bag is stuffed full with about as much material as could fit inside a typical cup of yogurt, and whatever's inside is slightly crunchy.

Sir Pentious

A paper bag causes a grimace to appear on the serpent's expression.... What, a packed lunch? Of course not, but with the ratty preparation, he's really going to have to be won over!

Though looking inside just raises *further* questions...... Is that his skin. Sir Pentious looks up at Alastor without turning his head up to follow, a kind of expression that reads *Alastor, what the fuck am I looking at?*

Alastor

"I didn't have time to gift wrap it," he says dryly.

He scoots closer to explain the gift. (Note that he doesn't scoot AWAY from Sir Pentious's tail. He just sort of scoots around the perimeter of the picnic so he can keep leaning on the tail.) "I thought that—well, this poor ship got knocked outta the sky twice in short succession, it couldn't hurt for you to have a little bonus protection! Not extra armor—you've got that handled—but something to designed to repel more... MAGICAL assaults. So! You've got yourself the typical crystals and herbs, all bundled up in snakeskin—snakeskin is WONDERFUL for protection work, and no magical ingredients are ever stronger than ones DIRECTLY connected to the person they're meant to protect—plus a tiny portable radio in each one—got those from the dollar store!—to ensure they remain connected to their power source."

Look at him beaming. He's so proud of himself. "Just hang one up by whatever you consider the main entrance, and arrange the other four around the ship against the inside of the hull to form as close to a pentagram as you can, and they'll do the rest! Of course, a few little bags can't knock out every hex, curse, and spell—but they'll make it a damn sight harder for them to get through!"

Sir Pentious

He's listening to Alastor, occasionally tilting his head and plucking up once of the little bags to examine it. Very odd to see his own skin used for something like this... Usually he just burnt it. But he does like the fact that he was given something so specific... Alastor really wanted him to build his ship, and, considering it was an Alastor that blew it up *every time*, this would have to be a good ward!

"WHY ISS SSNAKE SSKIN GOOD FOR THESE THINGSSSS IN PARTICULAR?"

Local inventor specializes in machines, not hoodoo or whatever this was. He probably would enjoy studying it.

Alastor

"Why, bits of snakes are good for a whole slew of things! Snakes are some of the most inherently magical creatures you'll find. Venom for cursing and crossing, blood for poisoning—naturally, you can use venom for poisoning as well, but there's no magic needed for that, hah!—and snakeskin, it's something that a snake sheds off from time to time to be symbolically reborn; so it's good for magic tied to symbolic rebirths—like rebuilding your ship, here—or good luck—'shedding off' old, bad luck, see—and on and on. And ANY skin or hide or leather is good for protection, since that's what a skin is FOR, but between snakes' natural magic and the connection you'd have to the skin, under the circumstances this snakeskin is going to work better for you than, say, cow hide."

He's rambling, but it's a very excited rambling. He's rarely asked about his magic, and when he is it's rarely by somebody he'd really really like to share that info with.

"So I'm afraid the explanation isn't something simple you can find with a microscope—no chemical reactions or analyses of tensile strength involved. In my experience, most of magic is... you know how humans look human in the living world, but in death their souls takes on traits that metaphorically suit them. Spin a web of lies and see yourself reborn as a spider, that sort of thing. It's no different here: you've got something's physical form, and then you've got the traits that metaphorically suit it—and it's the metaphors in that object's 'soul' that hold power in magic."

Sir Pentious

Alastor most assuredly knew all about these sorts of things... and honestly! Sir Pentious couldn't hide the grin that was spreading over his features. Listen to this man go off--there were very few in Hell who prattled on with such excitement about their craft. Alastor, of course, and himself! Of course, there were likely *others*, but Sir Pentious frankly didn't have much patience to listen to much other than what he deemed to be interesting and good work. Yes, indeed, if it didn't pique the serpent's interest, did it really count as work at all?

No, apparently. So his own shed skin was most exceptionally effective! He couldn't do any scientific examinations, though, and that news brought his grin down a little as he went back to examining the contents. And then... Sir Pentious reached into his coat to withdraw a pair of glasses. They had multiple rows of magnifying lenses upon them, and he put them on, leaning his head back so that he could get a better look. Alastor had JUST SAID he couldn't find anything under a microscope, but apparently, Sir Pentious wanted to see for himself!!!

"I WAS REBORN IN HELL AS A SSSNAKE COVERED IN EYESSS. IN LIFE, I MUCH ENJOYED SSERPENTSS, BUT IT MIGHT BE MORE TO DO WITH THE KIND OF PERSSSSON I AM, HMM? SSSOMEONE WHO SSTRIKESS WITH CERTAINTY, *DEVOURING* ALL WHO UNDERESsssssTIMATE ME!" Big grins, his eyes all glowing red as he flicks his glasses--with the way he's looking at Alastor, it kind of looks like he has eight eyes, now that the lenses are all resting in different places. Eldritch Grin!

Alastor

Oh, look at that smile! It's nearly enough to make Alastor's heart start beating again. "Could be. Or perhaps it's both! Honestly, I bet there are more factors than we can dream of that decide our shapes down here. Maybe you were fated to become a snake the minute you named yourself serpent-ious!"

And here was Alastor thinking Sir Pentious couldn't squeeze on  any more eyes. What a look. "Now, how many optometrists did you burglarize to make that thing?"

Sir Pentious

Clearly, that assertation sits well with him. Look at that smile.

Though the question that's posed gets another wide grin out of the serpent!  

"OH, THESE? OH, YOU KNOW." A hand gesture, "BUT MOSTLY I TRY TO MAKE MY OWN MATERIALSSS, IF I CAN! THE LESS I HAVE TO INTERACT WITH THE DENIZENSS OF HELL, THE BETTER! UNLESS I AM BLOWING THEM TO BITS!"

Alastor

"You want something done right, you've got to do it yourself!" (How much meat is left? He's gonna snag some more. Yum.) "Where ARE you doing your materials fabrication these days, anyway? Can't be all aboard your ship, but I don't know what your current territory look like."

Sir Pentious

He makes a bit of a *face*, and puts the little baggies back inside the main baggie, before picking up his mug of brandy... "I HAVE TWO FACTORIES TO MY NAME, WHICH IS REALLY A GODDAMN SHAME. I INTENDED TO TAKE MORE TERRITORY AFTER THE LATESssssT EXTERMINATION, BUT EFFORTSSS WERE THWARTED BY THAT HARLOT--" he looks around like he just fucking saw a ghost--"CYCLOPS WITCH AND ANGEL DUST ATTACKED ME! I HADN'T EXPECTED HER TO HAVE SO MANY EXPLOSIVESSSS ON HAND. ALAS." Sip.

Alastor

"That IS a shame." Only two. Good grief. It's amazing Sir Pentious gets anything done at all, although Alastor doubts he'd appreciate hearing so.

He saw the fight with the harlot cyclops witch on the news. In his opinion, Sir Pentious shouldn't have had any trouble with her or with Angel Dust. The fact that he did... well. Alastor can't very well blame Sir Pentious for that, can he? "Maybe next extermination you ought to venture further from downtown and snap up the suburban industrial zones? I expect the turf's less hotly contested out there." He huffs. "But you've probably thought of that." Unlike Alastor, who hasn't had to think about this in half a century  and even back then the extent of his involvement in the strategy was deciding how he'd like to crush his assigned target.

Sir Pentious

Looks like he's about to INTERJECT but then. Bingo. Sir Pentious nods, a little solemnly, looking pretty tired. "YES, EXACTLY, I *HAVE* THOUGHT OF THAT. BUT NEXT TIME I WILL BE MORE SSSUCCESSFUL! I WILL *DOMINATE* ANYONE WHO GOES UP AGAINSSST ME!"

He wiggles the bag around with quite the smile, "I HAVE ADDED PROTECTION, AFTER ALL!!!"

Alastor

Alastor beams. "That you do!" The best he can create without bargaining with nobility for a little extra oomph—and if he did that, the strength of the defenses would be tied to another demon's will, not to Alastor's.

"I'd say you have added firepower, too, if you want it; but, well—if you're ever going to call me into battle, it's only going to be a surprise to everyone first time. I'd think it ought to be the kind of surprise saved for a... special occasion."

Sir Pentious

"MM--" He's actually just drinking straight from the bottle. Old times,. Should they even be drinking while about to get back to working with power tools?

Oh well.

"YESSS, INDEED A SSSPECIAL OCCASION! PERHAPSSSS THE ANNIVERSARY OF MY DEATH!"....... He's immediately looking. Uncertain, as he can't exactly remember when that was.

"OR SOMETHING ELSE,"

Alastor

No, it's probably not a smart idea for Sir Pentious to be chugging the bottle before getting back to work. Therefore, Alastor will have to help him be responsible—by slinging an arm over Sir Pentious's shoulders, taking the bottle from him, and chugging it himself.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a special occasion like, 'When you take on whoever's got the most turf once you've worked your way up the ladder.' But, hey! No reason you can't schedule that fight for your deathday!"

Sir Pentious

*DRUNKEN DEMONS WITH POWER TOOLS. THERE ARE NO BRAIN CELLS LEFT.* Pentious doesn't lean away or out of the friendly embrace this time, beaming even if he's a little embarrassed.

"OH IS *THAT* WHAT YOU MEANT? THAT'SSSS NOT A SSSPECIAL OCCASION, THAT'SSS JUST BUSINESS!!"

Alastor

What's the worst that can happen to them? A hospital trip or two? Pshh.

"Well, can't it be both? Business is business, sure—but on the day that, say, for example... old blockhead takes a tumble? I'm going to consider that a *very special* business transaction."

He's not getting pushed away. That's good. That means they're back closer to where Alastor hopes they'd be. Right?

Or maybe it means Sir Pentious is only willing to let Alastor drape around him like this when he's too drunk to think clearly.

That thought alone is nearly enough to make Alastor withdraw completely.

No, not this time. He's already here, he'll enjoy it. But in the future—no getting closer to Sir Pentious AFTER he starts drinking. Once the bottles are open, Sir Pentious can close the distance himself, or else it won't get closed at all.

Sir Pentious

He's not that drunk yet! Of course, Alastor wouldn't know how Pentious felt without the booze nearby.

He himself enjoyed drinking around Alastor--wasn't that proof of trust, of friendship? It was probably not great to go off of Pentious' standards... He didn't really have friends.

"OHH, YESSS. INDEED, THAT *WOULD* RATHER BE A SSSPECIAL OCCASION, HHEE HEE HEE!!" He clacks his talons together with glee.

Alastor

"I thought so!" Oh, Alastor can hear his scream now... "But! I'll leave the details to you. I may have many skills, but warfare strategy isn't among them."

Sir Pentious

"MMM, I SUPPOSE NOT. BUT THAT MIGHT BE WHY YOUR BRAND OF CHAOSSS HAS BEEN SSO EFFECTIVE." Pentious gestures, "YOU SHOWED UP ONE DAY AND NOW EVERYONE ISS TERRIFIED OF YOU."

Alastor

"Amazing, isn't it! I haven't caused that kind of devastation in decades and ninety-nine percent of the population is still too scared to talk to me! Ha!" He shrugs one shoulder, "Still, it's what you say it is—chaos. It's not what one would call a firm foundation for empire-building, is it?"

Sir Pentious

"RATHER LIKE A BIG EXPLOSION WITH NO FOLLOW UP, YOU'RE RIGHT." He makes grabby hands for the bottle again, "LIKE A WRECKING BALL! I DO SO LIKE THOSE MACHINESSSS."

Alastor

He's gonna take another swig before passing the bottle back. "A wrecking ball, hah! How apt. Clears the playing field for something new to be built, but doesn't do the construction itself."

Sir Pentious

Pentious points at Alastor, nodding as he takes the bottle and just holds it, "EXACTLY! THAT'SSSS YOU. BLOW THEM OUT OF THE WATER AND I'LL DO THE REST!"

Alastor

Hand on his chest and smiling widely even by his standards, "With pleasure!"

It's where he was always happiest: blowing them out of the water and watching Sir Pentious do the rest.

Sir Pentious

That tail is slithering closer. You're gonna get a snake hug, you've no choice in the matter. Pentious leans back against his own body, taking another few gulps of brandy before he laughs, "OH, FUCK. WE'RE SSSUPPOSED TO BE WORKING AFTER THIS."

Alastor

Oh no, whatever will he do, it seems he has no choice but to be embraced in a coil of pure friendship.

Alastor huffs. "Maybe we should extend the break." He probably shouldn't be giving orders to an eldritch abomination while tipsy, things tend to get disconcertingly non-Euclidean when he does that. Then he brightens a bit and reaches over to poke the paper sack. "We don't have to be sober to place these, do we?"

Sir Pentious

The mere *suggestion* gets him beaming into full on LAUGHING.

"OH PROBABLY NOT!! BUT I LIKELY WILL NOT REMEMBER WHERE I'VE PLACED THEM, DEPENDING ON HOW FAR WE GO!"

Alastor

"Well, you probably won't *need* to know where they are once they're placed—but still. You never know." He ruminates on this a moment longer. "Well—unless you can think of a better way to pass the time, maybe we ought to just sleep it off and then get back to work."

Sir Pentious

"SSSLEEPING IT OFF IS THE *INTELLIGENT* THING TO DO. BUT I AM NOT YET AT THE POINT WHERE I WANT TO SSSLEEP, SSSO YOU ARE SSTUCK HERE WITH ME A LITTLE LONGER, ALASSSSTOR!" Yes, as if that's not exactly what Alastor wants at this point, but Pentious is somehow still clueless. To him, this is what friends are just like! He broke all kinds of social etiquette rules when he was alive, after all.

Another swig from the bottle, and he hands it back. "THERE'S SSTILL SSSOME SANDWICHESSS TO WORK ON."

Alastor

"I'm not budging." He is being coiled around, he wouldn't leave for the world. If the hotel catches fire right now he'll teleport in a newspaper and start browsing the job listings.

Another swig for him. "I didn't want to hoard them!" He says, and then immediately grabs three, now that he's being encouraged.

Sir Pentious

Prrr Prrr prrrr. Alastor likes his food!! It's not really *cooking* but Pentious always put work into it regardless. Picnic fair was his favorite.

He leans on Alastor, and splays his hand open as he reaches towards the sky.

"HELL *WILL* BE MINE. I CAN ASSURE YOU OF THAT. NOTHING WILL TAKE THAT GOAL FROM ME, ALASSSTOR. THAT ISS A *PROMISE.*"

Alastor

He has to swallow quickly to reply. (He'd stacked two sandwiches on top of each other to bite.) "I know it will. It's just a matter of time."

And he truly believes it. Not that Sir Pentious WILL—there's too much that's uncertain, too many people that will be doing everything in their power to stop him—but that Sir Pentious CAN. He's the only person in Hell that Alastor believes can. And he's going to see it happen or get exterminated trying.

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