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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 year

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Eleutherophobia Deleted Scene

@eomund42 #might have to post as a DVD extra or whatever

Yes please!

[This fragment was originally part of Chapter 6 of How I Live Now. I got rid of it because a) the conversation around Jake’s table was getting too long, b) the tone doesn’t work given how the chapter opens, and c) I accidentally left Rachel and Effilit unsupervised in the yeerk pool, so I needed to retcon that the Tobys were guarding her while everyone else was at the house.]

“Food? They had enough kandrona for years.”

“Not the yeerks, the hosts!” I stood up, pacing as I talked. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spotted it before. “The Blade ship only had space for a few months’ worth of food storage, and I know that at least some of that was taken up with bark for hork-bajir or taxxon meat for taxxons.”

Marco made a gagging noise which I ignored.

“Visser Seventeen didn't bother restocking those stores or even checking them. Humans are omnivores, that’s a big part of what makes us so useful,” I continued, “and the yeerks always assumed that they could feed a human body just about anything that didn’t poison it and it would keep going.” I turned around, making eye contact with Eva. She was nodding slowly. “But what if that’s not the case? What if they ran through the human food supply they had on board and couldn’t find any alternatives that had all the vitamins or amino acids or whatever that a human body needs?”

“They really don’t know as much about humans as they think they do.” Eva offered me a tight little smile. “Edriss wrote up most of the intel they have on us and... Well. Edriss wasn’t a disinterested party, given that her life depended on her ability to convince the Council that humans were worth the Empire’s time.”

“That would explain why the Blade ship hasn’t been back sooner,” I said, resting both hands on the back of the empty chair. “They’ve probably been hopping around between planets this entire time searching for a plant or animal source that’s close enough to Earth food.”

“Until they got desperate enough to come back here,” Cassie said.

I nodded. “Humans can digest just about anything, but that doesn’t mean they can live off it indefinitely. The yeerks probably found a few partial food sources, and they might have bought themselves some time by forcing one of the hosts to morph a large animal, become a nothlit, and then—”

Marco made his stop-talking-about-cannibalism gagging noise again, this time louder.

“Anyway,” I said, conceding the point this time. “Maybe there’s no vitamin K in the universe in a form humans can use. Maybe there’s no calcium. I don’t know, but whatever it is they’re missing, they’d get desperate enough and have to come back here.”

“So this is a quick trip. A grab and go.” Cassie exchanged a glance with Jake.

“Which means that if Rachel doesn’t come back within a few hours they’ll probably leave without her,” Jake concluded.

“And that brings us back to Tom’s original point,” Eva said. “We need to figure out where the rest of them are hiding. Immediately.”

<Rachel can tell us right now if we figure out a way to get that thing out of her head,> Tobias pointed out.

Having arrived firmly back at square one, we all sat there in frustrated silence for several seconds.

“Could you contact your illusionist?” Eva said. “Make, I don't know, a hologram vanarx to threaten it with?”

I glanced over at her. That wasn’t a bad idea.

“Illusionist?” Marco said. “What illusionist?”

“Your person who makes the holograms,” I said impatiently.

“We don’t have a person who makes holograms.” Marco glanced at Jake, who gave a slight nod. “I mean, maybe if Ax-man asked the Dome ship nicely they’d be willing to whip something up, but that’d take too long.”

Eva leveled a long, unamused stare at Marco. “I may have been born at night, querido, but I wasn’t born last night.”

Marco looked away, shoulders hunching.

“Eva,” Jake said. “Please trust us. We’re telling the truth that we don’t have an illusionist.”

“I know perfectly well that you six did not whip up an entire fake hork-bajir valley in less than three hours using parts you found at Radio Shack,” she said flatly. “Humans still don't have that kind of technology. Probably not the andalites either. So. Who helped you?”

“Technically...” Ax said. “Eck. Nick. Lally.” He trailed off. That appeared to be all he was going to say on the subject.

I looked at Eva. Eva looked at me. We were adults, I reminded myself, in a room full of kids. There was no need to bristle with defensiveness, no need to feel like the only two losers out of the loop.

“You could make a hologram on that scale, with that level of sophistication, right now?” Eva said to Ax.

And now none of the Animorphs were looking at her.

<Those were special circumstances,> Tobias mumbled.

“And the current situation doesn't count as special circumstances?” I looked slowly around at each of them. Jake wouldn't meet my eyes, but Marco leveled me with a hard, defiant stare.

<No, just…>

“You just can’t have the zombies knowing about it?” I asked.

Cassie stiffened.

Jake held up both hands in a placating gesture, looking between me and Eva. “It isn’t possible, okay? So leave it.”

I shoved forward to brace both hands on the tabletop. At least three of them flinched. “Just like it’s not possible for you to pull an exact copy of Cassie out of your collective asses? Cut it and it’d bleed, but scan it for life forms and it’d pop up as inorganic. Hang onto it for over two hours and it wouldn’t demorph, but take your eyes off it for a second and—” I snapped my fingers. “It’d disappear into thin air. You mind telling me how you pulled that one off?”

There was a long silence. Tobias had developed an apparent fascination with straightening his own feathers. Cassie just looked annoyed with me.

“Didn’t think I’d notice that, did you?” I asked them, voice flat.

“To be honest?” Marco said. “No, we didn’t.”

“It's not our secret to tell,” Cassie blurted. “We swear.”

Marco glanced at Jake again. Jake looked at Cassie, who looked from Tobias to Ax and then back to Jake. Jake looked back at Marco.

“Since Tom and I are clearly the only ones who give a damn about actually helping Rachel,” Eva said, “perhaps it would be best if we left the room.”

“Chee!” Marco shouted.

We all looked at him.

“That's whose hologram tech we were using,” he said. “The chee.”

It was progress, anyway. “What’s a chee?” I said.

Jake muttered something about there not being time for all this, but looked up at me and said “There was this species called the pemalites.”

“Yeah, everybody knows about pemalites.” I frowned. “Wait, you’re telling me they’re not extinct?”

“They are,” Jake said. “But they built robotic companions before they died. And those companions, those chee, were specifically designed to look and sound and even feel like anything they wanted. The chee can’t commit violence, not even to save a life. But, yeah, they can make a copy of Cassie — or the hork-bajir valley — on command.”

“Please, you can’t tell anyone,” Cassie said. “Their existence depends on their secrecy.”

I shrugged. “I so do not care that the pemalites left behind a bunch of sex bots, and don’t think anyone else will either. Can they help us?”

“Sex bots? Sex bots?” Marco spluttered, twisting around to glare at me. “They're not sex bots, you absolute sixth-grader.”

“’Chee’ literally just means ‘friend,’” Cassie said.

“And you can program them to look like anyone you want because…?” I raised my eyebrows.

Cassie opened her mouth halfway, and left it open.

“Jake?” Marco said imploringly. “Tell me the chee aren’t sex bots.”

Jake patted Marco on the arm. “The chee aren’t sex bots.”

“See?” Marco said to me. “You are a disgusting human being, and oughta be ashamed to open your mouth.”

“Always am,” I said, smiling angelically.

<Anyway, it’s a moot point.> Tobias glared at me. <The chee wouldn’t spit on us if we were on fire, even if we could contact them. Which we can’t.>

“Why, what happened?” I asked.

Jake suddenly became fascinated with the grain of the tabletop in front of him. Cassie made a noise of annoyance in the back of her throat, also looking away.

“He was fine,” Marco said loudly. “Jake did nothing wrong.”

“Who was fine?” Eva asked.

“No one!” Marco waved his hands. “I mean everyone! Everyone was fine. So don’t worry about it.”

I made eye contact with Eva. Yep, right back to the feeling we were the nerds being tolerated by the cool kids’ table but not allowed in on the joke.

“Tobias is right,” Cassie said. “We’re wasting time with this discussion. The chee are well-hidden enough that we couldn’t find them if we tried. And even if we did they wouldn’t help.”

“You can’t even ask,” Eva said tiredly. “You don’t think it would be worth trying to ask for help.”

“They can look like anyone.” Marco did look genuinely apologetic now. “Anything. Trees, rocks, the wall behind them. They don’t want to be found, and so we’re never going to find them again.”

“Okay.” Jake ran a hand over his face. “Okay. An illusion is a dead end. We’re on the right track, though. How else could we get a, um, a yeerk-eating-thing?”

“Varanx,” I provided. “And we even if we had one for real, it’d just eat Rachel’s brain right along with the yeerk.”

“So that idea’s a bust, but…” Jake looked around the table. “But…”

<Is there another way to get it out by force?> Tobias threw in. <Brain surgery, something like that.>

I winced. I knew of 10 or 12 people who’d had yeerks removed by force. Two had survived. One was in a vegetative state, and the other was, well... Spacey Gervais. Who lived up to his name.

“Is there anyone among our allies qualified to perform brain surgery?” Ax looked at Jake. “Your father, perhaps?” Then he twisted to look at Cassie. “Or yours?”

“Not on a human,” Cassie said, even as Jake shook his head.

“That’s also likely to be a dead end.” Eva was leaning more heavily against the wall, but glared at me when I tried to nudge my empty chair over to her. “Human brains are strange, and poorly understood by humans and yeerks alike.”

<Rachel’s a morpher.> Tobias looked from Eva back to Cassie. <She can heal from any amount of damage that doesn’t kill her instantly.>

“Or leave her comatose,” Cassie said. “Or otherwise unable to make a mental image of an elephant and then will her body to become that. And I don’t think Ben Carson himself could get an entire yeerk loose without taking apart most of the host brain as well.”

“No surgery.” Jake rested both hands on the table, closing the discussion. “No varanx, real or imaginary. It seems like we keep coming back to persuasion as the best way to get it out.”

I hated persuasion. Because I had an idea for persuasion, and I was going to pitch it to the group when hell froze over.

Hell froze over… or Rachel’s life was on the line.

I sighed. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Cassie looked up at me. “Do what?”

#animorphs #eleutherophobia #long post #animorphs ficlet #how i live now #deleted scene #mentions of torture #mentions of cannibalism

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kmhnsecretexchange · 5 months

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Title: We Move Like The Ocean

Author: KILLC0MMAND (Twitter)/OceanPalace (AO3)/one-way-dream (Tumblr)

Pairings: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda

Characters: Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda

Rating/Warnings: G

Prompt: Fanfic - Post Game - Hajime and Komaeda going on a nice walk on the beach :] and talking about life

Author’s notes: hope you like it !! ♥♥

For as long as Nagito could remember, he never liked the ocean.

There was nothing about it that was soothing; nothing about it that could quell his deepest fears and bring him even a modicum of peace as it seemingly did for many others. In fact, the ocean probably fed into his anxiety. It was the kind of vastness that made his stomach sink at the sight of it. It seemed endless – starving. As if it could take and take and never be satisfied.

There’s something like stomach acid at the bottom, he thinks. Something that, in the presence of someone as unlucky as him, would rise to the surface like bile that burns your scarred throat. As if all it would take would be for him to misstep, one slip past the shallow waters, for the ocean to churn his flesh and spit him out, stripped down to the bone.

Needless to say, he wasn’t particularly fond of swimming.

So, it’s with caution that he meets Hajime’s request to visit the beach today. It’s with a steady trill of anxiety that he takes in the dark clouds in the distance, and the way that the waves crash and churn frothily against the weathered boulders he could see from their cottage.

But he strolls out of the safety of their home with Hajime, nonetheless, choosing to walk side-by-side along the coast where the briny water meets the seashore. It’s not a choice that comes easily, not even after spending five years together, but more than anything else, he trusts Hajime – and in turn, he learns to trust himself.

It’s overcast today, the ocean whipping up the beginnings of a storm as waves rise and recede, doing nothing more than washing over the sediment and kissing the edges of their black soles as they talked on and off for some time. He was wearing Hajime’s shoes today, and Hajime was wearing his. It’s a comforting change of pace, one that was seemingly mundane and one so painfully normal that he feared he’d never experience something like it in his life.

In fact, he’d been counting on it.

“Have you ever done this as a kid?”

At that, Nagito snaps out of his daze and curiously shuffles closer, close enough to graze Hajime’s hand. The hint doesn’t elude the other man, indiscreetly rolling his eyes yet immediately giving in and clasping Nagito’s right hand in his, coldness buried in warmth, a full moon gleaming under the sun’s light. He fights back a shiver despite the body heat warming him up from the tips of his fingers, taking the brunt of the cool ocean breeze.

Hajime picks up the nearby tree branch he’d spotted and clasps it in his other hand, uncaring of the way the wet sediment sticks to his palms as he waits for the waves to draw back. He nudges the both of them forward, closer to the ocean than Nagito would like to be if he were by himself, and starts writing.

The clayed sand pushes apart with every stroke, residual saltwater pooling in the trenches of the lines. Nagito watches with slight amusement as his boyfriend struggles to keep his weak hand steady; his unvoiced insistence on holding Nagito’s hand with his dominant left for a bit of skin-ship which was maybe a little silly, if not touchingly sweet.

Even his face was pulled in concentration – eyebrows furrowed, and lips pressed together in a thin line that might feel a little chapped if Nagito decided to break his focus and steal his attention with his lips. If it were summer, maybe there would be beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He wonders if Hajime ever realizes that it’s incredibly easy to read the emotions on his face.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize when Hajime finishes until he steps back and tosses the stick aside, pulling Nagito with him. He follows his gaze back to the sand, back to what had swallowed all of Hajime’s concentration, and feels his heart flip without restraint inside his chest.

“Komaeda-Hinata…?”

It comes out as a shaky question, one that he’s afraid to say any louder over the howling wind in fear that the moment would fall apart like their digital reality.

He feels his hand being squeezed lightly encouragingly, pivoting his head to catch a small and rare smile gracing his partner’s expression. And that, he thinks, is all it would ever really take to be truly selfish for once in his life and monopolize Hajime all for himself.

He smiles and gravitates towards him, the almighty pull of the sun – eager now more than ever to test his theory on wind-chapped lips and indulging in the warmth of the first person who ever cared.

As always, Hajime fights an internal battle on whether to give into his vulnerability and meet Nagito halfway or stay still. He doesn’t pull away – he’s been stunned in place before, but he’s never pulled away, even after all these years. Which is why when he does it for the very first time, something like a jolt of electricity shoots through his body, dread and confusion roiling within him uneasily as he leans away. It doesn’t settle until he catches the look on Hajime’s face, body now turned towards the ocean, towards the rolling waves rushing forward with more vigor than ever before.

Hajime is the first to move, cursing and quickly scuttling away from the shoreline with Nagito in tow, jerking him away from the sudden violent rush of water. The latter’s gaze remains on the writing in the sand, the familiar feeling of loss clinging to his mind as he watches the scene unfold, only challenged by the warmth of Hajime’s arms wrapped protectively around him. But the sea crashes against the beach, nonetheless, viciously frothing and spitting saltwater all over them as they stood a safe breadth away from the cold water.

And he watches with a hollow feeling as it swallows up the shore and recedes, slinking back where it came from, although it’s hardly satisfied; after all, the ocean takes, and it takes, and it takes. It takes away future names engraved in the sand. It takes away scraps of burning metal. It takes away hundreds of bodies. It takes away dreams.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, now more of a press against a healing bruise rather than picking an itchy scab that never really healed under the surface, but Nagito can’t help but notice how small his voice sounds against the roaring wind when he finally speaks again.

“It washed away…”

Hajime sighs and then suddenly ugly snorts, startling Nagito a little out of his slump. It’s truthfully a bit of a stupid sound, but Nagito always finds it endearing anyway.

“Well, it is my fault for suggesting we walk around in this weather but, at the same time… does it really matter?” Hajime speaks casually with a shrug, though Nagito knows better than to assume he wasn’t tuned into him to the point where he could pick up on Nagito’s inner turmoil.

He probably senses the trepidation steadily simmering inside him, or maybe it’s written clearly on his face. The arm wrapped around his shoulder drops as he opts to intertwine their fingers together like before. Nagito brushes his thumb over the bend of his knuckle once, a silent and gentle press for him to continue, “To be honest, I… didn’t write it because I wanted it to last forever. I wrote it just to say that– I dunno, that we were here in this moment in time. That we overcame everything thrown at us, and now we’re at a point where, truthfully, we don’t have to worry about fading away into obscurity under life-threatening circumstances. Like a murderous bear suddenly showing up,” Hajime jokes with a teasing grin, bumping their shoulders together a little, “We can live in the moment. We can just do things that are stupid and frivolous and still wake up tomorrow knowing that we can do it again.”

Initially there’s a prick of fear at Hajime’s first few words, at the notion that he maybe didn’t want them to last like that, even if it contradicted with his actions. But slowly the pieces start to click in his mind – the real meaning behind his words at least, in the way that it always does when he’s with Hajime. He still can’t find his voice, only now finding a way to tether himself back to reality, but Hajime doesn’t seem to mind.

“Sure, life will take things away, but these things are worth the trouble anyway. Don’t you think that’s also a big part of living?” He faces Nagito and smiles, exhaling through his nose before turning towards the ocean again, “I wrote it because even though it’s temporary, it means enough to me that we were here to see it.”

Hajime pauses to clear his throat, pitch lowering a little before he continues with a tremor in his voice.

“And I… I guess I don’t mind letting the whole world know that you’re mine, but…” Hajime’s face flushes and his voice trails off at the end, tinged with embarrassment and something like vulnerability, “As long as you know, it’s alright. I guess.”

The tips of his ears are red, and if Nagito didn’t know any better, he’d say it was from the cold.

Thankfully he does know better; he probably knows Hajime best, after all – or at least, he’d like to think so.

He finds his bravery before his voice and raises their joined hands between them, pressing a gentle kiss on the curve of Hajime’s now-cold knuckles, openly drinking in the way he flushes even deeper and struggles to maintain his composure.

What a strange guy; getting flustered now when just a few moments ago he was saying things that he knew would reach Nagito, as if he’d already routed the simplest way to his heart through the gaps of his ribcage, as if he knew the map like the back of the prosthetic hand he lovingly built. Really, he’d give him all of himself to this man if Hajime only asked.

And maybe, by the looks of what he wrote in the sand and the instinctive hope buzzing through his veins, one day he will.

“Then, I guess…” Nagito starts, braving a small but fond smile despite standing at the maw and mercy of the ocean, “I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Late at night, when he’s tucked under the nook of Hajime’s shoulder, drawing meaningless, sleepy patterns on his partner’s chest as it slowly rises and settles, he thinks.

He hears the ocean through the window left ajar, the sea breeze warm and slightly briny, but not unpleasant. It’s calmer now, the brewing storm having subsided into a false alarm, and the waves now a lullaby more familiar than anything he’d heard growing up.

He thinks about sunken treasure and marine life and aquatic adventures.

He thinks about how the ocean hurts and takes away just as much as it nurtures and gives, in the only way it knows, even if it’s not always balanced in the way one would expect – much like his own luck.

He thinks about, maybe, asking Hajime one day if they could build a sandcastle by the ocean.

#kmhnsecretexchange #submission #fanfiction #sfw #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #dr #sdr2

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sarcasmandships · 3 years

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honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

“where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

“bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #David Rossi #Penelope garcia #the bau #angst #hurt and comfort #spencer reid imagine hurt

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 3 years

Text

@trueblue-escapist this one got long! :) (edit: now on ao3)

It was by sheer fortune that the message arrived while he was dining at Beau and Yasha's home.

They were trying some of the latter's experimental recipes. Fortunately Yasha had progressed very well in the last several months; this was now the fourth meal Caleb had been over for since Beau declared her love's attempts at Empire foods to be reliably nonpoisonous.

He was comfortable, speculating with Beau over her recent visit to Shattengrod. So when Jester began speaking in his head, he almost dropped his fork.

With strained panting—"Caleb, we need some help."

Caleb’s thoughts immediately went to static. He held up a hand as her voice continued, eyes wide, and both Beau and Yasha fell quiet with concern.

"There’s a lot of fishy people and I have, um. One diamond. We’re on the ship. Hope you aren’t busy—"

Abrupt cut-off. No continuation. He shot a look across the table to the other two, and they seemed to instantly read the tension on his face for what it was. They darted from their seats as he replied, "I am with Beau and Yasha. Hang in there, please. We’re coming."

"Sword?" called Yasha from another room.

"Sword. Beau," Caleb shouted, his adrenaline spiking with every second they were still here, "diamonds?"

"One," came her terse response. "I got it."

He stood up. The chair legs screeched against Beau and Yasha’s nice hardwood. Dug a hand through his hair and pulled half of it out of the tie.

Next he slapped his hands together. A strand of amber formed from his pinched thumbs and middle fingers as he drew them apart. Gods, his trembling hands shook the arcane thread. Ten seconds since Jester’s message.

"Essek," Caleb said to the thread, which vibrated with each word. "If you aren’t busy and have the spells. Retrieve Caduceus if you could and bring him to the Nein Heroez. It’s urgent. And diamonds," he added hastily. The thread dissipated.

Yasha and Beau emerged together from the hall with weapons in hand as the reply came: "I will contact Caduceus, then, and keep you updated. Hopefully I can be of aid. Stay safe, Caleb."

Caleb closed his eyes for a single breath and tried to absorb Essek’s soft, controlled caution.

They were coming. They would be okay.

Without needing to look, he held his hands to Yasha and Beau. "Uk’otoa is being an exceptional nuisance."

Beau scowled and said, "I fucking told Fjord to do something with that ball"—and they were off.

***

Jester woke up to what felt like a giant spike piercing through her head, or maybe a handaxe being sunk into her skull—but if it kept going forever instead of happening in an instant. Her stomach felt like a tiny pool of boiling acid that the ship kept rocking back and forth.

She moaned, curling up harder and pressing the heels of her hands to her temples. It didn’t really help, but the pulsing pain eased a little over some time.

"Arty?" she eventually managed.

"I’m so sorry, my dear," murmured his low voice by her ear. "I came as quickly as I could."

"It’s okay. Water?"

She felt a small weasel tongue lick her cheek, then retreat.

After about a minute of measured, careful breathing through the migraine, Jester heard a door crack open and winced from the brighter light now shining in from the hallway.

"Sorry," whispered a familiar voice, and Jester might have started crying at the sound of his Zemnian accent if she wasn’t already teary-eyed from pain.

The door closed, dimming the room again to its singular lantern.

She did her best to uncurl as Caleb set down a bowl and cup on the small table nearby and brought over a chair to her bedside. He reached for his neck, too, and a crimson weasel slipped into his hands.

"Thanks," she said as he returned Sprinkle to her shoulder.

"Of course. Would you like help sitting up?"

"Please."

She had to rest her head on Caleb’s shoulder for a minute when sitting up gave her a rush of a dizzy spell. His hand had rubbed up and down her arm. He smelled like sweat and fish guts and leather.

Eventually Jester had her back against the wall and the cup of water in her hands as she took a careful sip.

"Everyone’s alright," began Caleb, voice still hushed in consideration of her headache. "We took care of them all shortly after you went down, and Fjord was able to heal you a little bit. Essek arrived with Caduceus not long after."

"That’s good."

She closed her eyes and sipped more water. The warm weight of Sprinkle was draped around her neck.

Gods. Jester loved her friends so much.

"Where is everyone? Where’s Fjord?" she asked.

"Out on the deck cleaning up and figuring out what to do next," came the wry response. "Beau gave Fjord a piece of her mind about that orb. Caduceus suggested to try hiding it in the Happy Fun Ball."

"Aw, man. That’s a really good idea."

"Ja. So we are figuring out who will take it in there and where to put it."

She nodded sluggishly, eyes still closed.

"I’m sorry," said Caleb after a long moment. "Do you want to sleep?"

"No. I'm just tired."

That last word came out with a bit more... a bit more than Jester had intended to say it with. She chewed the inside of her cheek and took a sip of water.

She could feel Caleb's gaze on her. "Is it something you would like to talk about?"

The headache continued to pulse in her temples. She stared down into her cup, at the water sloshing side to side from the rocking of the ship. "If you guys are going to Yussa's later, I want to come with. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Mama."

"Of course."

Jester breathed in and out and continued, "It's been a year and I think I'm sick of sailing."

"Ah."

"I mean, there's been so many cool things. The Lucidian Ocean is huge. One time we saw a sea horse that was big enough to ride on. And the port cities we've visited have all been beautiful. But most of the time it's just this boat. And less Arty. And Uk'otoa attacking us for the cloven crystal. I can't even prank people whenever I get bored because it's all the same people, and it's way less fun to keep pranking the same people over and over again."

Caleb made a considering noise. She sipped water, chewing the inside of her cheek some more.

Slowly he asked, "Are you... thinking of staying with your mother for a while?"

"Maybe."

Peaceful silence. They listened to the sounds of wood creaking and the ocean undulating. Jester felt the shittiness of her body continue to ease, and she set down the water to take a sniff at the bowl instead. Some stew, still warm.

As she had a cautious taste, Caleb said, "Hey."

She brought down the bowl and looked at him.

"Would you like to see something cool?"

"Of course I would like to see something cool, Caleb."

His smile as she sat up with anticipation and set down the bowl was very welcome—and a pretty cool sight already. But she watched him pull out a piece of wool and rub it between two fingers, and all of a sudden there was a cat in his lap and another cat on his shoulders.

Jester gasped, hands flying to her face. "Are those your cats?"

The smile on his face only got bigger and warmer as he looked down at the illusory one in his lap cleaning its brown-and-white face. "Yes. This one is Gretel, she is still somewhat a kitten. The other one is Mac, which is short for mackerel because he was eating one from a rubbish heap when I found him."

"Oh my god, Caleb, that’s so adorable." She beamed and leaned in to wiggle her fingers at illusion-Gretel, cooing without caring that it wasn’t the real cat.

He rubbed the wool in his hand and illusion-Gretel began to purr loudly.

She could feel the dimples in her cheeks from grinning. "I love them."

"They will both be very glad to hear that and will eagerly exploit your love to make you spoil them."

"Well, of course I’ll spoil them, they’re so perfect."

Caleb’s smile eased into something soft. "Would you like to meet them in person, then? Before you return to the Nein Heroez?"

The excitement welling up inside Jester faltered.

Oh, right.

She twisted her fingers together, fixing her gaze on the blood crusted in the space between them and beneath her nails. "Um. Yeah, I would love to, Caleb. But probably I'm not going to come back here."

No response except a careful inhale.

She picked at a bloodied crease in her palm and continued, "Fjord and I talked a couple weeks ago. It wasn't like an argument or anything, don't worry! We're one hundred and ten per cent still best friends who love each other and everything, you know? But he loves being captain of the Nein Heroez and doesn't really plan on stopping anytime soon. Or doing anything else. And I want to do more. The world's so big, and there's like a dozen other planes I could see, Arty promised he'd show me around the Feywild—"

Caleb's long-fingered hand placed itself on top of her fidgeting ones, and Jester's rambling mouth fell silent. The illusory cats were gone.

"It's fine, Jester," he said. She looked up at his furrowed brow and crooked smile. "I understand."

Deep breath in and out. Jester returned a similar smile. "Yeah."

Seeming reassured, he leaned back in his chair and seemed to look off elsewhere, his brow still furrowed in thought.

In the lull, she took up the bowl of stew again with more relish. The weight of the news she'd been ignoring had lifted from her shoulders, and with it some of her worries. She hadn't known how people would react. The more reasonable voice in her mind figured that everyone would take the relationship change with ease, reminding her of Yasha's advice in Eiselcross a year ago. The louder, more anxious voice had stressed over whether any of them might judge her for being a bad girlfriend.

Apropos of nothing, gaze still a little distant, Caleb said, "Essek and I are in a relationship."

Halfway through a sip of the stew, Jester's mouth fell open. "Really?"

His lips twitched at the squeal in her voice. "Ja."

She smiled, said, "Aw, I'm happy for you two," and returned to her stew to try and stamp down the sudden, strange sense of instability overtaking her. Like her heart found itself stuck in the second between missing the next step down the stairs and falling.

"Thank you. I am telling you this, though, because Essek and I have had... somewhat of a similar conversation." His eyes flickered to meet her startled gaze briefly, and she saw a bittersweet wryness in them. "Neither of us expect the other to be, well. Committed. My whole self, more or less, is dedicated to my home. I want to make it a better place. Essek has very different goals in mind for his future. We love each other, but between my life and his constant vagrancy, it would be unfair to expect us to stay the same. And, you know. I don't have as much time as he does, anyway."

Jester had the bowl of stew in her lap now, unable to stop staring at Caleb. He finally seemed to notice her attention and awkwardly fixed his eyes on a spot of the wall somewhere to her right and up.

In her chest, time started again. Jester's heart safely found the next step instead of taking a tumble down the stairs.

"Thank you, Caleb," she said softly.

He returned to looking at her properly, and the renewed warmth in his expression helped resettle Jester's sense of the world even further. "I'm sure your mother could be much more reassuring."

"Maybe, but it's you."

Caleb went a little pink. The flush was still visible to Jester's eyes in the dim room. Thank the gods that the warmth in her own cheeks would be much harder for him to notice.

That was enough conversation for her at the moment. She shoved the bowl of stew back against her mouth.

(send me a brief widojest prompt!)

#cr #cr fanfiction #widojest #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #mentions of shad*wg*st and f/j #prim writes #prim post #trueblue-escapist #readmore

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imperiuswrecked · 4 years

Note

So...I really would like to see your take in Namor/Maximus, it can be anything that comes to your mind I'm not picky (any universe, situation, gender...just make it gay 👀)

Sorry this took so long! I choose the 616 Verse because it’s really the one I know most and wanted to write this. The answer to who gave Namor those band aids when he got beaten up by Thanos.

Short fic under the cut~

Pain. It had been a constant companion to Namor throughout his life, and now just as when he was a child, he endured that pain alone. He had retreated retired to his rooms for the evening after his humiliation at Thanos’s hands. He winced as he sunk into his pool, an accommodation he had insisted on when he chose his room which he had filled with salt water, the cuts burning as the salt entered them. He lays at the bottom for some hours, too lost in his mind mulling over recent events. So much death, so much destruction, and for what? they were no closer to making sure his world was safe. Every new threat that came, he crushed, but the Cabal was out of control.

Namor at first had ignored the signs, the bloodthirsty leering of the group as though they were some pack animals getting excited at the scent of death, telling himself it was necessary to align himself with Thanos and his Black Order, but as each new body fell, as each new world was bathed in blood, he felt less and less sure of himself. Now he was going to be watched carefully, he had to find a way to get a message to Richards and the rest of the Illuminati who was still around. His wounds had slowed considerably while in the water and now he kicked off from the bottom of the deep pool to break is head on the surface, his lungs taking in the first cool gasp of air. His gills were fine for underwater but there was a sense of relief that one only got from taking in those deep clearing breathes.

“Do you have to resurface? Or can you stay there as long as you please?”

The lilting voice of Maximus the Max rings out in the empty room and Namor swivels in the water to look behind him. The Inhuman Prince lay stretched out on fainting couch, eating from the bowl of fruit that lay on the small table beside him. His happy light cadence was at odds with the blood on his hands. Namor eyes the man carefully. He did not know much about him, only that he would be an asset to the team with his scientific genius which is why Namor had brought him on. Since then he had not much time around the man, since they usually only saw each other when another incursion occurred.

“I can live the rest of my life in water and pray that the humans leave me and my people alone, and never would I surface.”

Namor lies, not to others, but to himself. He would try and fool himself thinking if he had peace he would never roam, but Namor knew he would always have this urge to see the world of his father. As some people would say the sea called them, so did the land to Namor. Max pops another grape into his mouth, as Namor swims towards the edge nearest the Prince. He eyes Namor with a appreciative expression as the Sea Prince lifted himself out over the edge, his naked body on display as water rivulets ran down the length of his form. Namor always swam naked when he was alone and he was never shy, he noted the Inhuman Prince’s stare as he walked to the couch where at the end he had left a towel and his suit. He ignores the sharp intake of breath as he nears. Many people found his form beautiful, but he wondered if they would still want him if they saw him for who he really was? A man willing to snap the neck of any living being if it meant further his goal of keeping Atlantis and his people safe another day.

“What are you doing here Prince?” Namor asks as he dries himself off, Max’s gaze is hungry as he looks at him, he knows that look. Many a maid, and man, would then speak in breathy whispers, and try to persuade them to bed them.

“I was tired after our last massacre, Thanos had us hop to another world to kill not even one under incursion, just because he had been denied his last world... by you.”

So that was why he had not been visited by anyone, even Black Swan for the last few hours.

“That does not answer my question, you have your own rooms to retire in, why are you here?”

Namor drops his towels and pulls on his suit, Max sits up now, and swings his legs off the couch.

“Who else would patch up your wounds?” Max pats the seat next to him and smiles up at Namor. The Prince had dark shining hair, and bright blue eyes, his smaller build meant Namor towered over him but it did not deter the Prince even when Namor glowered at him.

“I am already healing, the water rejuvenates me, soon even these small cuts will disappear. I don’t need you to administer your... care.” Namor says in an acidic tone, “Don’t you have bombs to build? Or other innocents to murder?”

“Ah just for that, now the choice of my Hello Kitty band-aids are off the table.” Max says in a pouting tone, “Come now, you can growl at me all you want as I bandage you.” He scoots a bit more, “I will tell you all about my bombs and then you will ask me how to send a message to my idiot brother and his friends without any of Cabal knowing you sent it.”

Namor’s expression must have shown his shock, Max giggles a bit, coming from the grown man it sounded strange and if there was a lesser man standing there, he might have been unnerved by the Inhuman. Namor simply sits and turns to face Max who hastily moves them about until Namor’s legs are stretched out and Max is straddling his waist. He opens his white and black coat to reveal the inside pockets did indeed hold Hello Kitty Band Aids as well as normal white band aids and a number of other unusual objects including; different sized remote controls, tiny silver tools, a small jar of jam, a set of earrings, a tv guide to soap operas, and a single apple that looked like it had been swiped from his bowl of fruit.

“Ah ah.” Max saying in his sing song voice, “No kitty for you.” He selects the white bandages and sets himself to work, Namor allows the man to touch him. He need to get this information, and most importantly he need to make sure Max wouldn’t tell the others, even if that means killing him after Max gave him a way to contact the others. Max covers the small cuts over Namor’s face, one on his nose and other’s on his cheeks. Namor had survived bombs, and bullets, and the Hulk, all without anything ever cutting through his tough skin, but Thanos strength had been enough to shatter Namor, he was only lucky that Atlanteans could heal fast and he faster than most. Max’s fingers were nimble and his hands were gentle. It had been a long time since anyone had been nice to Namor and the man almost did not know how to react.

“Why are you doing this? Why help me at all?” Namor’s voice is low, and Max lifts his gaze his own voice is soft and breathy, “Why not? You’ve never hurt me or mine, I don’t think we are enemies my Prince, and if we aren’t enemies then that means we are allies, and what do allies do if not help one another?” He muses as he continues, “Maybe I am getting this ally thing wrong, my brother would know what to say if he were here, the man never shuts up when it comes to telling me what is right and what is wrong.” He laughs softly at his little joke. His eyes turning back to the cuts.

“Will you tell the others that I will be speaking to the Illuminati?” If Max said yes, Namor would have to snap his neck, he couldn’t let his plan fail, even if that meant killing someone who was showing him kindness.

“That depends.”

“On?” Namor growls, his hands twitched.

“On what you will bribe me with to shut me up.” He smiles slyly at Namor, like a cat who had been caught in the canary cage.

“You seem to have planned for everything that might happen before you walked into this room, so tell me Lord Maximus, what is it that you want?”

Max places the last bandage on Namor’s arm, setting away his kit he turns back to the Atlantean.

“I’ll settle for a kiss, to keep my lips shut.”

Namor blinks, he would have thought the Inhuman would demand more than that, money, power, riches, or even a night in Namor’s bed from his earlier admiration. He speaks slowly so that there is no confusion in the terms of their deal, “For a kiss, you will stay silent about any plans I have to dismantle this Cabal?”

“Scout’s Honor!”

Maximus does a small sign with his fingers, and Namor has no clue what he is talking about, or what Scout he might mean. Still he has to trust someone, if Max did end up betraying Namor like so many others in his life then Namor would deal with it then.

He sits up a bit and places one hand behind Max’s head, pulling the Prince in for a kiss, soft lips brush Namor’s and he had meant it to be a quick action but he found himself falling deeper into their kiss. Max’s hands hold his shoulders and the Prince moans slightly as Namor presses his lips harder against Max’s. It is a few moments later that they part, both men breathing a bit harder than before. Namor’s heart pounding as though he had just swum a hundred miles. Namor stares at Max, noting the slight blush to the man’s cheeks as Max smiles.

“A kiss to seal the deal.” Max says softly and he later is good on his word.

Later after he hangs up from the call Namor leans back in his chair and thinks about the kiss, his fingers brushing his lips. He hopes Maximus knows how to survive what is coming, because Namor doesn’t know if he will save him.

A Namor/Max fan art by me for @esteicy-blog : I’m very sorry for the bad quality, but I will keep practicing so I can make more Namor ship art!

#namor #maximus boltagan #namor the sub-mariner #maximus the mad #madmariner #mim writes a thing #thanks for asking!#esteicy-blog

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cawolters · 4 years

Text

Hello, here’s a little snippet from The Liar Alliance (Book II) — it’s a nightmare scene at sea!

Shiroin is haunted by a dream witch and in this dream Farrah is using a Not-Kiel puppet to get to our sweet sweet main character.

I’ll go ahead and spoil that it’s working. Nobody is made completely from stone.

Some horror themes/some mild gore

Pg15

1500w

THE STORM SEA

The wind tore at the sails and as I looked up along the distressed, flailing sails, I was beginning to doubt they would hold. Far above the cotton and flaying rigging, the purple skies had gathered every cloud in Gailia and layered them, one on top of the next, in a dark ominous bruise.

Thunder rumbled from deep within the heavens, threatening with rain that had yet to spill.

“Your throne is only two months away, little pearl. A gleam of light in that deep crater of your thoughts is it not, Heiress?” It was a foul whisper upon the gust and I froze. I had recognized the voice immediately.

Farrah.

“Yes. I can hardly get any sleep, from pure excitement.” I said dryly with my jaw tense and my eyes searching the deck for Farrah’s dream shadow.

She laughed her bell-chiming laugh from all around me, already infecting every inch of my dream with her foul magic. This was a nightmare like all her nightmares, strange and twisted and no doubt about to split open my bowls and feed my organs to the gulls and crabs, but I was not worried because of that. At least not only because of that.

I was concerned because I had not noticed that this had been a dream before she had spoken.

The ship mast under my palm had felt entirely real, the wind tearing at the sails sounded like that had for a week at sea. Even my private thoughts about the storm, about to wash over my imperial ship had felt more real than reality, and it was not because I could not tell when I had a visitor in my head by now.

However, this time, the dream witch had slipped past my doze and directly into my subconscious without a fight. Maybe Farrah was getting better at enchanting me, poisoning me with her magic, or perhaps I getting worse at detecting her… I questioned if I was unhinging without noticing.

The beginning anxiety of her brewing nightmare started to flow down my arms and legs like a blood-carried venom, cold, tingling and faintly numbing.

“Have you found me, Snake Daughter?” She asked, the same maddening question ever night.

Find me, find me, find me Empress of Destruction, Pure One, My Love.

In that moment I wanted to grab her neck and strangle the words out of her, but if I did, the witch would only laugh louder. I knew. I had already tried in countless other dreams.

“Farrah. I found you once, I had you in my hand, but I speared you.” The most regrettable ting I ever did. “Even then you asked me to ‘find you’. Perhaps you need to elaborate what you want from me exactly.” I said, playing nice, but only playing and only because there was nothing else for me to do in here.

The ship creaked and moaned on Farrah’s conjured sea and the sway of the deck grew more vertical on the black storm-waves, timing with salty foam. I steadied my footing.

Now the clouds let their spiky icy rain, fall. It was a mute shower that immediately drenched the ship and I alike. A blurred silhouette of a woman materialized in the sizzle. She moved like a gliding ghost over the flooded tilting deck towards me.

“That is because you keep looking in the wrong places, Shiroin.” The distorted shape said softly. “The Divine Farrah wants you to triumph, but your gaze is facing the wrong direction, my little dove.”

It was my mother who stood before me. Her black thick hair flattened over her pale features by the unnatural heavy rain. It did not touch anything in my heart that Farrah should use the puppet of Ohtani Oi Hana. It was not a new trick and my face smoothed out in a plain mask as I closed off my emotions.

“Do you want to fail, Shiroin?” Another shape came up to me in the impenetrable shower of dark rain. My father. His face was wet stone and granite, carved with hate.

I could ignore him too.

“The world will drown in its own blood. They had it coming, but she will let me live if you let her in. You and I can be together then. Be free. Once you have ridden the realm of its scars.” Kiel spoke next and my face slipped. His gold eyes cut through the water veil and then the rest of his long body stepped out of the rain.

My logic told me it was not Kiel, only Farrah’s mirage, but the tug in my chest was no illusion. I should be running from her magic, avoid to look directly at it and find a way to wake myself up, but my feet were nailed to the planks while I stared at him.

“Is that not what you wanted?” Not-Kiel asked. His pointed teeth fleetingly showed between his lips when he spoke. “To be cut loose from yourself?”

“Farrah...” I breathed.

He took another step to me and I tilted my head back to meet his eyes that looked so much like polished amber. The tug in me grew painful.

Farrah’s image of Kiel was slightly amiss though. The lines of his face were too smooth and his eyes too warm. I could tell but something in me wanted to believe her magic. I had not seen his face this clearly since he had kissed me goodbye under the heritage roses and my pitiful longing heart wanted Kiel this close.

“That is why you called me Blade, right? Let me help.” There was a mild smile on his scared lip, almost like the one that Kiel really made, but not quite. Farrah’s interpretation of him was too gentle. It was a picture that the witch thought I wanted, not a picture of the true man.

And if she thought I ever wanted Kiel to be clement, she did not know me to my marrow. That comforting realization woke some of my willpower and I tore my stare away, fixing it down on my clenched fists instead.

“Always with the pathetic puppets, Witch.” My right hand gabbed the left and I dug my nails into the back of it.

“Pathetic?” Not-Kiel asked, he sounded on the verge of a manic laugh.

A laugh my Kiel would never make.

“Are you trying to leave me?” His hand slipped on top of mine. He curled his fingers around mine, and when he spoke again, I felt his breath in my hair as he bend down and whispered in my ear.

“Why are you denying us a way out? I love you with all of my soul.”

I glimpsed how not-Kiel’s other hand undid the buttons on his black clingy shirt.

“Kiel would never say it like that.” I retracted from him and found the mast at my back.

“I died for you. For your rage.” He whispered and the rain trickled in steams down the pale skin of his chest. The clear water ran red with blood on his left side.

I had to get away from the dream. I tugged at the hold not-Kiel had on me. His fingers on my hands turned to bones: held together with tattered strings of gray tendons, and so, so cold.

“I died so that you could feel alive for a moment, you selfish lying girl.” Not-Kiel’s hiss made me shiver.

Not Kiel. It’s not Kiel.

“He wouldn’t say that.” I tested his skeletal gasp again but he had locked his hand around mine in an iron clasp. I shouldn’t have looked up then, but I did. It was a frightened reflex. Where the deep pools of honey usually dwelled in his handsome face, now only pits of black rot sat. No eyes. No mouth. He was a dead man filled with black holes and gray decaying skin that slowly opened up to yet more holes.

I gasped and tore my hands from the undead cadaver.

His voice was ragged.

“You killed me Shiroin. You stabbed my heart out and then you filled it with more death.”

I shook my head.

“You killed me.” Not-Kiel was decomposing. Tuffs of his white hair dragging off his head with the rain and strips of flesh peeling away to reveal the cranium under it.

“My death was your fault.” He croaked.

“And mine.” Mother howled in the acid rain that rotted her too.

“And mine!” Father gurgled.

“AND MINE!” Yonta, Ehka, Maida, Jhon, the little girls, the soldiers, the bandits, the Elsalvians I had eaten in the Endlands all screeched and cried and staggered towards me.

Rotting. Bloating. Dragging their useless bodies over the slimy deck that rocked unrested on the stormy ocean. Their shrieks pitched, closed in. Ten, twenty, thirty! All shouting at me with their haunting voices. All sobbing and crying out in pain. Growing louder with the rain. Loud enough to make my head split open. Growing so loud I had to cover my ears.

“Stop! Stop it! Stop it!!” I screamed and flattened my back to the mast.

It was an unbearable wall of sound, drowning me in until my whole being filled with their pain! UNBEARABLE!!

Then Farrah snuffed it out and everything got deafeningly mute.

Abruptly Kiel’s quick whisper sounded deep within my skull.

“Demon girl.”

-Ciao-

#writeblr community #author #romance #horror #witch #storm #story #ghosts #zombies #ship #nightmares #snippet #theliaralliance #cawolters #kiel #shiroin #farrah #riseoftheblooddawn #the begining of chapter ten

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helmcontrcl · 5 years

Text

@getinthefunvee:

Was there really a point to the Malibu mansion?

Really, honestly, Tony had questioned its very existence in the weeks ( months, years ) prior to the curvy modernist edifice swan-diving into the water like the icing on some sort of really outre party. Sure, it made a great bachelor pad, but the on-again, off-again thing with Pepper meant that, increasingly, he’d started thinking of it as her home – despite the superbasement filled with tech, despite all his cars, despite any sane, logical human adult acknowledging it’d never been anything but Tony Stark’s embodied masculinity.

Somewhere past the hair gel and OTT timepieces, Tony was thoroughly SENTIMENTAL.

And yes, alright, he spent zero time here now that partying was sort of a no-go and his trials & tribulations had him vibrating between the Tower ( what the fuck was he supposed to call it, now? reclaim it as Stark Tower? Artscaper Formerly Known As Avengers? Fewer Fucking Avengers Tower? I Hate Myself?? ) and the upstate compound but someone had taken something that he thought of as HERS and blasted it into the ocean.

Yeah, he was going to rebuild it.

The biggest problem – after the rubble was cleared – was rebuilding the cliff face. Hardscaping had never been Tony’s forte, and the watershed decided to be in less convenient places than previously anticipated. He also uncovered a very cool but very unstable series of wannabe sinkholes, no doubt caused by the explosion destabilizing pre-existing cave structures.

So that was fun.

Then there was the actual design. Modernist beachy was so over, and besides, with climate change a very real deal, Tony wanted to future-proof everything to the nth.

He ended up with something half-way between a pueblo on acid and an overgrown 本棟造. With, like, WAY more recessed lighting.

The eroded cliff was transformed into a series of terraced pools, one slipping into the next via a series of small waterfalls, and created a larger waterfall into the ocean below. Tony opted to go heavy on the foliage; since everything was off-grid and eco-conscious, including reclaimed structural components, he sourced native species and created a series of swirling, pollen-rich outdoor rooms, connected by smooth pebble paths perfect for impromptu yoga sessions or just meandering barefoot.

It was into this that the spacecraft faceplanted, leaving a trail of smoldering ruin and scattering a few panicked songbirds.

On the terrace, still awake from the night before, in his fuzzy bunny slippers, boxers, and breezy yukata, Tony nearly dropped his espresso.

“ Uh, FRIDAY? Can you run. Stuff. ”

‘ Analyzing now. ’

“ And patch through to the Pentagon. They’ll want to know that I had a mishap with a personal-grade experimental craft on private property and within patrolled airspace. I want to make sure I get to kick the tires before anyone gets trigger-happy. Any survivors? And, you know, is this more refugees from Asgard or Independence Day? ”

You’ll never amount to anything—

Liar Liar

Liar

Pilot error… Pilot error….

I served with your father– Stop wasting your time with toys!

We’re losing altitude! Hold on I’m going to try to– Tom!

–Nice work, Lieutenant

Tom?

He’s my friend! …Are you saying his ship exists out of time?

You know what I remember… remember…

The groan reaches his ears first, swallowed by a persistent ringing that takes several seconds of stuttered breathing to realise is inside his head. A slow movement and a low wounded exhale have bright blue eyes opening with a clumsy flutter, grunting as he lifts his head against the pull of gravity.

He blinks, the low lighting that has eyes straining is his cue that it’s early morning, maybe evening. Though he’s having a hard time putting back together what happened, a haze of memory sliding in and out of focus like a kaleidoscope of pieces. The more he turns them over in his mind, the more scattered and out of reach they become. It hurts, chasing after recollection as it hurtles further and further from grasp–

Mr Paris, take us out. Maximum warp.

The more he follows, the more confused he becomes, so he redirects his efforts, works on levering himself up into a sitting position and giving himself a once-over. Nothing serious, a few superficial wounds and bruises but nothing warranting major treatment. Near as he can tell, the shuttle had absorbed most of the impact. And it’s a sign that he has, at least, some training in medical practice, though for what, he’s still figuring that out.

Voyager. The name flashes in and out of memory. A red-haired woman, elegant, regal, commanding. Standing above him, offering him a new start, offering freedom.

He said yes.

He said no.

Pain spikes through his mind as he struggles to marry up conflicting recollection, contradictory memories running parallel through the streams of disarray as though he were remembering two pasts, two histories. “What the–“ sparks explode near his shoulder, leftover electrical current frying state-of-the-art circuitry. All at once the shuttle feels alien, despite the faint hint of familiarity. He needs to get out of there. Grunting, he staggers upright, ducks and haphazardly weaves his way to the back of the shuttle where the door had been rammed partially open. He took the time to dig out the med-kit that was stored behind the bulkhead, muscle-memory guiding him to it; though the Starfleet insignia gives him pause.

I never re-joined Starfleet?

Wearied feet carry him out of the shuttle, a zig-zagged path marking the steps of an injured man. He’s barely functioning, staggering in the half-light ( his training helpfully supplying that he’s presenting the early stages of Shock and damned if that wasn’t going to further make his day ). He belatedly registers that he isn’t armed as he stumbles up the path towards a house ( a majestic house, but Tom was too exhausted to pay it mind ) and he curses under his breath, mutters something about ‘guess I’ll charm my way through this one.’

On any other day he’d be marveling at the decor, the impeccable taste of the ( now-ruined ) landscaping. But this wasn’t any other day, and it was bad enough that he felt the insides of his mind being torn in two, let alone the fact he was god knows where on.. is this Earth? Why did that seem so strange?

“Hello? Is there anyone there? My name is….” Lieutenant Paris. Paris. Marquis. Traitor.

“Tom Paris.” At least that part of his memory seemed to be in tact. Though he wasn’t sure he was overly fond of the adjectives that name inspired in his mind.

“….of the Federation Starship Voyager.”

–That wasn’t right.

#getinthefunvee #thread; crash landing #<3 #this is where we're up to :)

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tellywoodtrash · 6 years

Text

ishqbaaz 21.08.18 lb

dang. straight to the point.

telling how the chunri slipped from her head right then.

lmao nikhil’s insecurity isn’t gonna be gone thanks to the divorce you dummy. his insecurity is wrt to A. your very large bank balance, and B. the raw sexual chemistry you seem to have with his girl.

idk what utopia shivaay lives in where a divorce in india is gotten SOOOOOOOO easily.

anika trying desperately to taalofy. good move, girl.

FUCK. FOILED. THIS FUCKER IS CARRYING A COPY IN HIS COAT POCKET AT ALL TIMES IT SEEMS. ONE TIGHT SLAP HE NEEDS. ASSHOLE.

lol he’s sooooooooo going to fuck up the papers. consciously or subconsciously idk, but he’s gonna do it for sure.

pehle aap pehle aap mein gaadi chootti jaa rahi hai fucking idiotsssssssss!

fuck he’s signing. HE’S SIGNING. FUCKING HELL BILLU NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

DUDE LOOK AT HER FACE. DOES SHE LOOK LIKE SHE WANTS YOU TO??????????

iska adh-maraa chehra toh dekho while signing. chaanta lagaaon ya kya karoon iske saath?

where the fuck is om, he needs to bust in here and kick shivaay’s dumb ass from here back to the OU istg.

LMAO AT THE WAY THEY’RE JUST SAYING “SIGN” “WAIT” “MR KUKREJA” IN VARYING ORDERS.

snort pen ke bhi issues.

“chal raha hai” *grabs at it and clicks it a few times* SHIVAAY WHAT EVEN ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGGGGG YOU DUMBASS

abhi tak toh sign sign kar raha tha. jab woh sign kar rahi hai then you have the audacity to be all frozen and devastated? literally fuck outta here, shivaay.

of course.

a poor substitute for her chand bracelet btw.

of course, anika has gyaan to baatofy. bish tum toh kuch bolo hi mat. tangg aa gayi hoon main tumhare chutiyaape se.

shivaay you’re right and all, but *longest sigh ever* you just can’t do anything right, even when you try your hardest. i’m just so done with you.

son honestly. 87% of me is very happy at your tadap but the rest of me is just so sad for you. you poor dumb fucker.

also are they dyeing nakuul’s beard these days? it looks... darker in a not-natural way?

ugh you both are justtttttttttt suchhhhhhhhhhhhhh idiotssss.

but the angst! i loveeeeee it. delicious!

where are rikara, honestly??????????? THEY COULD BE USED SO WELL TO FUCK ALL OF THISSSSSSS UP SO SPECTACULARLY. USSI BAHAANE SCREEN PAR BHI DIKH JAAYENGE. WHY AREN’T YOU USING THEM YOU DUMBASS SHOW?!?!!?!?

oh thank god at least gauri’s here.

om’s here too. but that’s not what i want???? i want them togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. schemingggggggggggg. all up and close in each other’s facessssssssss as a bahaana of “plan making”.

ah fuck. he’s crying. that soft “ek minute, om.” the wiping his nose like a child. i can actuallllly feeeeeeeeeeeeeeel that tightness in his chest. ah mannnnnnnnnnnn.

fuck meeeeeeeee, why do i fall for man-pain, every single timeeeeeeee???????

this framing tells me that something is going to get hurled at the camera real soon. phone? that rack? aur kuch hai kya phenkne laayak yahaan?

rack it is.

lol why was om panicking from just hearing the magazines being thrown tho?

fuck. see? this is what i meannnnnnnnnnnnnn when i say this dude’s best acting is non verbal. just never give him lines ever again.

“main theek hoon. tu bataa, kya discuss karna hai?”

lmaooooooooooooo “bitch really???????” om’s face. honestly, he makes suchhhhh a good audience proxy.

sure. aal iz well.

same, gauri. #same.

ooooh khanna gets snack tasting duty. nice. how to get a job like this?

but like, without having to deal with shivaay as a boss. at all.

eeeeeeeeeeee cuteness!

every time gauri maarofies a taana about “aapke bhai” and om agrees, i get 4 days added to my lifespan.

....... and who the fuck is bhaiyya to “strictly” decide the wedding theme?????? neither the bride nor the groom, so how does his opinion even matter?

lol anika has the same point to make. itna sab kuch kar liya hai toh yeh bhi khud hi decide kar le bc.

UGH THESE TWO ADORABLE MOTHERFUCKERS. I WANNA SMOOSH THEM TOGETHER TO FORM A S’MORE FILLED WITH BEAUTY AND LOVE.

is khulle saand ko laal ka phobia hai? really?

the way gauri keeps looking towards ommmmmmmmm every single time, to bond over the inside joke, i can’t you guys! i just can’t! can you two just go make out in some corner somewhere??!?!!? why are you wasting your timeeeee hereee with these losers????????//

cyoot patoot. too adorbz.

ANIKA HE LOOKS NICE IN HIS NEUTRALS OK. PLS. APNE TAANO SE DON’T MAKE HIM CHANGE INTO OU ADVENTUROUS SSO. MAIN JHEL NAHI PAAUNGI!

lolwhut did om just say “oh my my!”?????????????????

pffffffffffffffffffft om you adorable creep. use these sexy hands of yours on that cute girl there, not on your damn brother.

baby sisters the cutest.

gauri out here kholofying all of di’s secrets. maine toh pehle hi kaha tha, yeh ghar ka bhedi hi lankaa dhaa degi.

also pool ka mention and paani ka darrrr means we all know what’s gonna happen!

om that’s a really dumb “solution”. one of these things is not like the other. the colour red cannot actually kill your brother. lord.

ohohoho unintentional emo moment in middle of hasi mazaak.

this is the dumbest fucking “challenge” ever to get them both in the damn pool. like... just have her fall in man.

lmao he’s sooooooooooooooo mad at being challenged tho.

not listening to this ainvayi ka chutiyaap because:

UGHHHHHHHHHH WHAT EVEN ARE THESE FACES!?!?!

lmao this is the most accurate pictorial representation of the sibling dynamics here rn.

god, what even are these technicolour kapde. i feel like i’m dropping acid.

lmao she’s sooooooooo bored.

omggggg i love how she noped outta that convo with nikhil to go talk to om instead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

be still my aniKara loving heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also #omkaraIsBae

LMAOOOOOOO THE TWO BABY SISTERS’ REACTIONS ARE BEST.

matlab maanna padega is bande ke confidence ko. looking smug wearing... THAT.

you know it’s true love when you’re dressed like that and she looks at you like THIS. #loveisblind

lol ok shivaay, enough with the smizing already. you’re way too short to be ANTM.

lolololol chachi’s reaction.

talk about upstaging the damn bride. how fucking rude, shivaay.

but i guess the bride explicitly asked for it so......

i cannot get over the range of emotions om went through in the last 30 secs:

lmaooooooooooo and finally his kinda proud mama hen look, like “see? see how hot my bhai is? abhi bhi der nahi hui hai bhaabi!”:

ugh ok enough of this slo mo nonsense already.

oh great. naach gaana. i actually like this song though. imma just forward around a lil bit to see if there’s any good rikara bits, though lorddddddd, kunal’s dancing is just *shudder*

TFW THE WEDDING PLANNER (WHO’S BRIBING YOU TO GET MARRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE) AND YOUR TO-BE WIFE ARE EYE-SEXING EACH OTHER AND NO ONE GIVES ONE (1) SINGLE FUCK ABOUT YOU.

wow even chachi is shipping shivika now. such is the power of colour coordinated couples.

THIS IS SO RANDOM. WHY’S HE DANCING WITH HER WHILE NIKHIL IS STANDING THERE??????????? AND THE LAMEASS CHALLENGE WAALE ISHAARE BS. AND THE FACT THAT THEY MADE RIKARA AND PRINKU THE BG DANCERS??????????? THIS IS ALL JUST SUCHHHHHHHH BAKCHODI OF THE HIGHEST ORDER AND I CAN’T STOP CRINGE LAUGHING.

same, saasumaa. honestly, #same.

but then he’s paying for the whole wedding. so let him dance with her, i guess. lol.

bro this isn’t appropriate in desi society even if you’re the fucking groom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT EVEN ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!!??!?

LMAOOOOOOO CHACHI THO.

literalllllllllllllllly no fucks given. amaaaaaaaaaazing. the balls on these two. i have no words. honestly.

lmaooooooooo poooora gaana hone ke baad, after finishing his grind up on the bride, shivaay pulls nikhil in as an afterthought. just... what a guyyyyy.

THEY STILL WON’T STOP EYE-FUCKING OMG YOU GUYS I JUST CACKLED OUT SO LOUD THAT I STARTLED THE CAT AWAKE. JFC. THESE TWO ARE JUST SOMETHING ELSE.

someone please get kunal some anti seizure meds for the epileptic fit he’s currently having.

(i’m sorry! he’s just SO BAD. WHY DO THEY MAKE HIM DANCEEEEEEEEE???????????)

I LEGIT HAD TO PAUSE THE VIDEO COZ I’M LAUGHING SO HARD. THIS POOR DUMBASS. I DON’T THINK ALL THE MONEY IS WORTH THIS BEIZZATI.

ohohohoh. time for dream sequence.

i mean i like this song and all, but come on, it’s fucking 10 years old. why not something nice and new? the dhadak title track really fits them rn. ugh.

also the choreography is really some trite bs. honestly, some effort would have been nice.

i’m just here for the aesthetic (uski toh inhone dhaijjiyaan uda di) good looking ppl making gooey eyes at each other.

OMFG WE GET BOTH POOL MAKING OUT *AND* THE RETURN OF TIA TOMORROW?!?!?!?!? GOD BLESS US ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs

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thewheezingwyvern · 7 years

Text

Storm Blooded

Rating: M for language, violence, darker themes, sexual situations and abuse. (More may be added) This story may be triggering. I will do my best to give warnings about certain triggers as they occur but this is a heads up in case I miss something. Also there is no ship yet. I’m just going to let the story unfold and go with it. ((I reposted this because with my url change, you can’t open the read more line))

Diabolik Lovers Oc fanfiction

Summary: Her kind and theirs have fought for centuries. It was no secret that vampires and witches did not get along. But when her Coven starts working to initiate peace treaties, Cora must stay with the Sakamaki brothers for the remainder of the negotiations. Six vampire brothers were bad enough but things get complicated when there are people behind the scenes who are trying to start another war…

(Chapter One)

It was nearly dusk by the time Cora had arrived at Sakamaki manor, the steadily dying sun wreathing the wrought iron gates in fiery reds and oranges. It was an ornate gate, engraved with elaborate embellishments but even a gilded cage was still a cage. A gust of wind rasped through the trees and sifted through her hair, a dusky rose that gleamed in the light of the fading sun. Daunted, she hefted one of her bags higher up on her shoulder and fixed her dark eyes on the crest above the gates.

‘This is a mistake.’ She thought with dread, ‘Maybe I should just call back the driver or something.’

Cora touched the squirt bottle of holy water resting against her hip in her jacket pocket for reassurance. It was a flimsy defense against six vampires but her options were limited given the situation. The rosette ground her teeth as she felt a traitorous voice in her head urge her to leave. She could disappear, leave and if she was careful no one would be able to find her. It was so tempting because she knew that however long she had to stay here, it would be hell for her.

‘Pull yourself together!’ Cora snapped at herself, ‘You can do this! You are Cora Fuller, a witch of the Court of Oak and Ash coven! This isn’t just about you so just get your ass in there!’

With a deep breath she pushed open the gates. They groaned as they parted to admit her and she hauled her luggage up to the front door. There was no turning back so she squared her shoulders and knocked on the door. Cora immediately began kicking herself mentally when she noted that the knock was feeble and lacking in volume. She knocked again, harder this time and the door swung open slowly to admit her. The entrance way was grandiose, sprawling in elegant marble. A golden chandelier, artfully crafted dangled from the ceiling and an imperial staircase waited at the end of the great hall.

‘Of course they would have a red carpet.’ she noted dryly.

There was no one at the door when she stepped inside but she was not alone in the entrance hall. He was a composed individual, impeccably dressed with a crisp, white button down shirt. Cora suspected that it had been pressed to perfection and it paired nicely with the simple black coat. He was a stern figure and his eyes surveyed her apathetically behind his glasses. But his hair…his hair was a dark purple grey and Cora found that it reminded her of a storm. That was the only thing about him that made her feel comfortable.

“Cora Fuller?”

She nodded mutely in response to his question.

“You are early.” He noted cordially, “I was not expecting such punctuality from one of your kind.”

Cora bristled, “Funny. I was thinking the same thing of yours.”

‘You leech.’ She added cantankerously in her thoughts.

“Your manners, however, are precisely what I expected: deplorable.”

The witch narrowed her dark eyes into a glare. She hardly thought that was fair since he was the one who greeted her with such a back-handed compliment. Cora wanted to pursue the argument, insist that he was the one who started all of this but she decided that the argument “you started it” sounded distinctly childish. And definitely not worth it so she dropped it.

“Not to worry. I’ll do my best to live down to your expectations.”

If he was at all bothered by her behavior, he didn’t show it. His face was one of stony indifference and he regarded her coolly. Inwardly, she squirmed because something about his gaze unnerved her but she refused to give any more control to him than he already had. So she met his wine eyes with her dark ones, trying her best to maintain a defiant expression.

“Fufufufu, well what do we have here?”

Cora jerked her head over to the side to see yet another vampire of the manor. His hair was a rich red and it tumbled past his jawline to dust just above his shoulders. But his eyes were striking, an acidic green that made her think of the toxic plants the herbalist witches would work with in her coven. The stranger was dressed casual enough, his button down shirt untucked with a loose fitting tie and a fedora on his head.

The witch narrowed her eyes in a glare when she noticed how he was leering at her, poisonous eyes slithering across her skin. She felt grimy just by the way he was looking at her and found herself really wanting a shower. If Cora hadn’t been so burdened with luggage, she would have folded her arms over her chest in a further show of displeasure. But her arms were occupied and it was that moment that she realized that while she may be able to touch the squirt bottle in her jacket pocket, it would be a lot harder to fish it out quickly should she need it. The witch decided she could put her stuff, or at least one bag, down.

“Take care of her luggage.” Ordered the stranger who had first greeted her, his face still devoid of emotion.

The rosette had no idea who he was talking to since she had not seen anyone else in the room. But she was quickly informed when a cold set of hands took the bag from her shoulder. An undignified squeak of surprise escaped her since she did not hear or see the servant until he was right on top of her. But Cora didn’t want strangers handling her stuff, she had carried a lot of personal ingredients and tools with her and she didn’t trust other people with it.

“H-hey wait a minute!” she protested.

But the servant had already vanished with her stuff. She deflated but was once again startled when she felt a cold body press firmly against her from behind. Cora quickly noticed that the red-head was no longer off to the left where she had first seen him and concluded that it must be him behind her. Icy hands caressed up her arms and she felt his cold breath pool onto her neck.

“I knew we had a witch bitch coming to stay with us but I didn’t expect she’d be so adorable.”

Not at all appreciating the intrusion and the uninvited touching, Cora whipped around, pulling the squirt bottle from her pocket. The red-head tightened his hold on her left arm, thinking that she was trying to pull away but he could not stop her from spraying him directly in the face. The vampire yelped and released her instantly, rubbing his face with his sleeve to clear away the holy water. However, once the faint hissing stopped and his face was dry, he gave her a dirty look. Cora squared her jaw, feeling the cold bite of fear sink deep into her heart as she watched his still smiling face.

‘I see you’re already making friends, Cora.’ She thought to herself.

“Now what was that for, witch bitch?”

“If you’re going to act like a dog, I’m going to treat you like one.” She retorted sharply.

“Laito…” Sighed the man in glasses, “It is highly inappropriate to lay your hands upon a woman you just met.”

Laito chuckled, but she could hear the dark edge that laced his tone, “But how could I possibly resist something so delectable, Reiji?”

“Oi! Don’t tell me you tried to bite her without Ore-sama!”

‘For the love of Artemis, am I going to meet every one of these leeches at once?! Can’t we space this out over a week?’ Cora lamented inwardly.

Yet another red-head appeared but he was closer to the staircase near Reiji. His hair was a lot shorter than Laito’s but it was boyishly messy and his eyes were a lighter green. Cora cocked a brow at his choice of wearing a ribbon around his neck that trailed down his chest to disappear into his shirt, which was barely buttoned at all.

“Ore-sama gets first bite of our prey…” he said lowly, suddenly appearing before Cora.

The witch in question lifted the squirt bottle in a threatening manner towards the newcomer and narrowed her eyes, “I will use this…”

“Psh is that supposed to mean something to me?” He scoffed leaning in to intimidate her.

“Careful, Ayato.” Laito advised, “Witch bitch has holy water in that bottle.”

A cocky smirk crossed Cora’s lips for a moment and she sloshed the water for good measure, “He’s right. Laito already got a taste.”

Ayato narrowed his eyes, angrily, “Wipe that look off your face. All I have to do is take that bottle from you and then you have nothing.”

‘Don’t hex him, don’t hex him, don’t hex him, don’t hex him…’ Cora thought, reigning in her urge to prove him wrong.

“You’re nothing but prey. A blood bag like any other human to feed on.”

‘Oh he did NOT just…fuck it.’

Cora pulled the trigger on the bottle, giving Ayato a face full of holy water. The water hissed when it came in contact with his skin and he reeled back, snarling.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, leech. I am not your prey and I am certainly not like any human you’ve come across. I am a witch of the Court of Oak and Ash and you will not talk to me that way.” She lifted her chin proudly.

“I will talk to you any way I like!” He roared, advancing blindly towards her as he continued to rub away the holy water, “And just you wait until I get my hands on you!”

“Touch me and I will curse you into the next millennia. Your GRANDCHILDREN will be cursed when I’m done!”

“That’s enough.” Reiji cut in coolly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Ayato, step back from our guest. She is not a bride offered up to us. She is a diplomatic emissary, despite how unruly her behavior is and she will be remaining here for the rest of the negotiations.” He flicked his piercing eyes over to Cora, “And you. Your attitude is a disgrace. Unless you desire for me to discipline you later then you will correct it immediately.”

Cora’s breath caught in her throat. Something about Reiji, perfection aside, really put her on edge. And she had no doubt in her mind that not only would he discipline her without hesitation that he would even enjoy it. She took his words to heart but not just because of his threat. Cora had less room to work with the vampires than they did with her. As much as she wished it were not true, witches have mostly been the aggressors within their long history of fighting each other.

She could defend herself safely if she felt her life was in danger but that was about it. Anything else would be called into question so there wasn’t a lot of open attack magic she could do here. And if she continually acted aggressive towards the brothers with her magic then she would be forced to wear a seal to limit her power. That thought alone made her feel like she was trapped within the jaws of a wolf, teeth bearing down on her neck.

Cora dropped her gaze from Reiji’s, “I understand…” she sighed.

“So this is what all of the fuss was about. I thought the witch would be cuter, Teddy. And that ugly mouth is so noisy….maybe we should kill her so we don’t have to hear her anymore.”

Out of all the things she had expected to see, a three hundred year old vampire with purple hair, plaid leggings, holding a teddy bear with an eye patch was definitely not one of them. She opened her mouth to say something to him but quickly closed it. The air was echoing softly with distant whispering. Whispering that had not been present until he had arrived. Cora’s eyes widened when she realized that the indistinct whispering was coming from Teddy.

‘Looks like Teddy has a passenger. Now the question is: did this boy summon it or did the spirit come by the bear on its own?’

He advanced towards the witch, his eyes glinting with madness, a wide grin across his mouth.

“Kanato stop.” Reiji ordered, “We already discussed this, she is here for the peace talks and she is not to be killed.”

Cora noticed that he said “killed” and not “harmed”. She warily watched Kanato, who sulked at the news and hugged his bear tighter to his chest.

“But I want to kill her.” He repeated more firmly, his voice rising.

‘Note to self: avoid Kanato. He might not honor the treaties at all.’

“We are under orders from him to not kill her. She must be kept alive. ”

Cora was assuming by “him” Reiji was referring to Karl Heinz. While it was comforting to know that he had given his sons orders not to kill her, she still couldn’t trust Karl any further than she could throw him. But Cora felt that way about all vampires.

“I don’t understand why. She doesn’t look special.”

A scowl crossed her face at that. In her opinion Kanato wasn’t that great looking either but Cora kept her opinions to herself. Faint whispering shuddered in her ears again and she rubbed her arms to try and stave off the chill. There were plenty of witches in her coven that delved into spirit work but she had never been one of them. Spirits always creeped her out.

“Well I suppose it was a good thing I wasn’t brought here for my looks then.” Cora said evenly, making sure to keep her displeasure off her face, “But I am not a diplomat. Even a blind person could tell that curbing my tongue is not a great forte of mine.”

“Hmmm? Then what are you, witch bitch?”

She eyed him warily, “I’m…insurance. We recognize that a lot of us can become overzealous and gung ho about fighting with you vamps. But we look after our own. I’m here because it will help keep some of the more hot-headed spell casters from being stupid.”

Laito’s smirk widened considerably, “Look after your own? How cute. They brought you here as a scapegoat. Like a lamb to the slaughter.” He laughed, “And you still think they are looking out for you? You might as well accept that you are our prey now.”

“Ore-sama’s prey.” Ayato corrected advancing on her again.

Cora laughed then, “A scapegoat? Not at all, I volunteered to be the one to come here.”

“What?”

The witch gave Laito a triumphant smirk. There would likely be many moments in this house that she did not come out on top so she was going to take this victory while it was still there. She found it very satisfying that his attempt at trying to make her feel abandoned failed.

‘Well now I have his number. He’s going to make it his goal to try and break me down and make me feel alone.’ Cora noted, ‘I can take you, fang face.’

“I volunteered. Someone had to come or else the negotiations would stop. But no one was stepping up so someone had to.”

Ayato snickered, “And so you came to us.” His smirk widened, “You want to feel someone’s fangs really badly, huh?”

There was a shift in the energy in the air as he drew close to her and Cora tensed. She already was hyper aware of how they were eyeing her like she was a walking blood bag but now Ayato was leaning in towards her with a sly smirk, licking his lips slowly. It was so tempting to summon some lightning and knock him flat on his back. If she did maybe he would stop looking at her like only prey.

‘But I can’t.’ She thought begrudgingly, ‘Using my magic to attack them repeatedly outside of a life threatening situation could make them put a seal on me.’

Ayato dropped his voice, “I’ve heard that Witch blood is something special. And rare to taste…”

“Really?” drawled Kanato, “I want to taste too!”

“Really now, Ayato, we can all share.”

Laito began to advance forward too along with Kanato. Cora could feel the jaws of the trap closing in, their eyes a light with hunger. But it disturbed her to see how they were looking at her as a food source and not as a person. She knew that this would not be an easy task to do for her coven but not once had she imagined it would feel like this.

‘Three of them and only one squirt bottle…’ Cora realized, ‘Shit. This was stupid. The holy water is great for one on one but if they gang up on me I can’t do anything.’

But she wasn’t ready to just give up. Cora moved to squirt Ayato in the face but Kanato snatched her wrist first and gave it a harsh twist. The witch yelped and the bottle was wrenched from her hand and tossed aside. This was happening, she realized with dread as Laito looped an arm around her waist from behind, heaving a shuddering breath into her ear.

“Mmmmm, you smell so divine witch bitch…”

“Get the fuck- eep!”

Kanato had swiped his tongue across the delicate skin of her wrist, startling Cora and she yanked it free of his grip. He widened his eyes at first in surprise before he laughed, his grin razor sharp and filled with ravenous intentions.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot.” Kanato took Cora’s wrist in harder grip and yanked it towards him cruelly in a harsh twist.

“Ow!”

“You witches are a bit stronger than humans…” He licked again, “Mmmm, I can taste the power…”

Ayato took her chin in his hands and forced her to look back at him, “Hey, eyes on me. Ore-sama is the only one you should care about.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest and she began to thrash within their grip. Laito laughed and merely tightened his grip.

“Why so frightened? You already heard Reiji, we can’t kill you.” He asked her, pressing his face against the side of her head in a faux tender gesture before he tugged sharply on her hair, “Hmmm I do still have to punish you for that holy water.”

“Oh yeah…” Ayato laughed, “Isn’t it taboo or something for you witches to get bitten? You think it is a violation of your magic? Your bodies?” His voice slipped down into a low timbre, “That we corrupt you?”

Cora felt herself trembling, felt her heart rate continue to rise as they closed in on her. But the more she stayed like this, the more she knew that she was giving them power. So she fought the fear with another emotion: anger.

“If you three don’t get the fuck off of me, I swear by Artemis, I am going to curse you!”

Ayato laughed and tightened his grip on her jaw, “Shut your mouth and just give in.”

‘That’s it. I’m done playing by the rules.’

Magic was a learned skill that took hard work and study. But every witch had at least one type that came to them naturally as if it their bones were made and shaped from it. For Cora that was weather magic. Particularly storms. She had not only wanted to play by her Coven’s rules while in this treaty but she also wanted to keep her skills a secret. Should things fall through with the peace talks her life would be in danger and it would be far easier to get away if they didn’t know what she was capable of. It would be easier if they underestimated her.

But Cora was not going to be bitten and especially not on the first day she stepped into the mansion. She flicked her eyes closed and focused in wards. And then she called to the power coursing in her blood and she could feel it rising to the surface, crackling with energy. Her heartbeat began to rumble in her ears, a distant roll of thunder, the tempest rising from her bones. Higher and higher it came to her skin, her ears, her eyes ready to be unleashed and-

“That’s enough you three. Unhand her at once.”

Cora still could not move her head so she slid her eyes over to peer at Reiji who was behind Ayato. While his face still seemed to be indifferent, his eyes had taken on a new degree of sharpness to them that showed his displeasure. Kanato pouted but released her wrist, making a soft disappointed sound in the back of his throat. Laito pulled away but made sure to run his fingers through her wind tossed hair with a soft laugh.

“This isn’t over, witch bitch.”

Ayato turned his face back to her and drew in really close. For one fearful moment she thought he was going to try and kiss her but he stopped short. Cora felt she had spent enough time with a fearful expression in front of him. So she twisted into a look of defiance, glaring up into his green eyes.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” He purred, “Ore-sama is going to be the first to take your blood. To take everything.”

‘Like hell you will.’ She thought venomously.

He let go of her then and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, “This is boring, now. I’m done with this.”

Ayato left then and as did the other two who ganged up on Cora. Laito made sure to pass her a sly wink before leaving as well. It made her feel even more grimy and she really wanted to take a long hot shower. Suspiciously she watched Kanato who stopped to stare at her, clutching his bear to his chest.

“Don’t worry, Teddy.” He assured his friend, “We’ll get to taste her. I’ll bet she tastes delicious. Just like her soft skin.”

She hardened her glare and he slipped out of the room. Now she was left with Reiji and her embarrassment that she had been seen so weak. Cora should be thanking him, he saved her without her having to pull out her magic. But when she brought her dark eyes to meet his own wine colored ones, the words just would not leave her. They turned sour, bitter on her tongue and she just couldn’t bring herself to be grateful. She had it under control.

‘And besides, you watched and let it get to that point anyways.’ She thought waspishly, ‘You could have said something from the beginning and it wouldn’t have got that far.’

Anger and shame brought her fists to clench tightly by her sides. She could still feel Kanato’s tongue on her wrist, Laito against her back and Ayato’s icy fingers on her jaw. Cora looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze. Because as angry at him as she was, there was still something about Reiji that unsettled her and she wanted to flee from his presence. Resolutely she set her jaw, inwardly scolding herself for feeling that way.

“Honestly now.” He sighed, “I expected such poor manners from those three but I had higher expectations for the emissary of your kind. I suppose that was foolish of me to expect proper etiquette and manners from a witch. It is customary to thank the person who saved you.”

Cora glared at him, “Why should I? It is also customary for the one responsible for the house to not let things advance that far with your guest. So I guess we are both in the wrong here.”

Reiji narrowed his eyes slightly, “Careful, witch. Your political significance will only get you so far.”

“And I’ll carry myself the rest of the way with my own two legs.” She snatched up the discarded bottle of holy water, “I’m more than capable.”

“Capable? Not moments ago you were a quivering in a pathetic display.” He chuckled then, “How foolish that you thought that little bottle would be enough to protect you.” A cruel smirk crossed his lips, “But it was nice to see you learn your place. You are just barely above the status of a human. Treaties are not, you and your kind are still food. Now behave yourself and I will show you to the room you will be staying in.”

‘I am not your prey…I am the storm that will tear your world apart if you cross me.’

#DL #Reiji Sakamaki #Ayato Sakamaki #Laito Sakamaki

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wyndford-dekarios · 5 months

Text

Early Unnamed Feelings

pairing; Nice Acid Pool, Man (Salem Liu x Jack 'Ace' Kings)

wc; 503

context; uncharacteristically warm morning between them because i need it rn. inspired by this drawing

They woke up first. They always did.

A shudder ran down where their spine would be as they stretched a bit. Not too much; didn’t want to wake him up. They glanced down, and a proverbial brow raised as they saw he was holding on a bit tighter than usual. They glanced at his face. Nightmare? Particularly rough day? Whatever the reason, they felt…

They sighed softly as the pain slowly ebbed in. The pain of being, the pain of existing. It wasn’t as bad today. Hell, they almost felt energetic, legitimately. They looked around the room (as if anyone else was there), then slowly extracted themself from Salem’s arms. Hopefully they wouldn’t be leaving him alone for too long. He wouldn’t get touchy again, but they just…enjoyed his presence.

They slid out of bed, pulling on (more like summoning onto their body) their overnight attire as they did. It was nice to have the arms free, for more breathing room, and he’d idly mentioned at one point he thought their legs were shapely, so…tight pants. They flexed their fingers, one after the other, testing their coordination. Good coordination, good energy, low pain…they could make breakfast. They slunk out of the room, heading to his kitchen. If he didn’t have the proper stuff, they could just bring it in. They didn’t care. He was going to get at least one proper breakfast this week.

They pulled out a pan and turned on the stove, then had a glance through the fridge. Hey, shit, he had eggs. What was that thing he’d mentioned? They looked through his pantry. Couple types of flour, salt, no scallion, but they could just get one- it looked like danbing was on the menu. They looked in the fridge again. Obviously, something other than eggs in there- hey, he still had the bacon they’d left here a couple days ago. Alright, there it was. They’d fry the bacon first. Didn’t want raw pork.

They laid it in the pan, humming to themself quietly as they got to work. Maybe they could make one for themself too? Might as well, if they had the energy, and they were going to all the effort. They grabbed the pan to jostle the bacon a bit, then jumped a bit as a hand came to rest on their hip. They glanced down at Salem as he laid his head on their shoulder. He looked tired.

“Good morning,” They chuckled warmly. “...Are you-?” “Making you breakfast, yeah.” They look a bit further down. “Go put clothes on.” “Underwear is clothes.” He gave them a tired half-glare. Oh, he was tired tired. “A shirt, then. As much as I love seeing you like this, I don’t want you burning yourself if you drop this.” “You…can’t tell me what to do,” He grumbled, then squeezed their hip reproachfully as he moved off them to go get some kind of ready.

Ace turned back to the bacon. There was something warming up in their chest. They felt…

#ship: nice acid pool man #boreal writes

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rvengefulobster · 7 years

Text

Dust To Dust (Endless Space 2)

Bang!

The report of the old slug thrower is muffled by the back door of Xarla’s. Even so, the sound still echoes through the ally. Aural traces of violence that refuse to dissipate. The child tenses. They are huddled under a stubby awning in the back ally just big enough to keep Hekim’s acid rain mostly off.

The door slams open and a Lumeris barrels out. He slams into the wall of the ally and clutches his side; a pool of grey blood spreads across his shirt. The shirt alone is worth enough to feed the child for a year. The pale green alien sweeps his gaze up and down the ally. Don’t look here, the child thinks. They don’t want any part of this.

Two more gun shots punch holes in the door. Beams of yellow light stream through the gaps. And the Lumeris slumps to the ground.

The door opens and bathes the dying man in golden light. It swings closed and rebounds open again. Xarla likes those null-friction hinges. As the door swings open again, a shadow appears on the ground at dead man’s feet. The shadow is tall and diaphanous. The child hears the hissing and popping of a Craver breathing apparatus. They tense up even tighter. Don’t look at it don’t look at it… It’ll see for you sure if you do!

They don’t need to look to know what they’ll see. The monster. One of the ones who took the child’s parents. The ones who burned one more tiny planet over 5 cosmic strings from here… But they can’t resist. Fear makes one eye creep open. The figure is 8 feet tall, covered in a scratchy looking grey cloak that hides the creature’s horrific patchwork of cybernetics.

The tall figure reaches down with powerful grey arms and lifts the dead man up against the wall. Two more arms explore his shirt and vest. They cast aside a tiny gun and a wallet before they find what they are evidently searching for. A pouch. Leather. One of the figure’s extra hand dangles the pouch in front of it’s hood. It’s hand tightens on the bag before tucking it away in a fold of the cloak. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t gloat. It just turns and stalks out of the ally.

Someone else will clean up the mess.

It takes several minutes for the child to open their eyes all the way. When they do, the see that the door’s latch has finally clicked in. The shadows have swallowed the dead man, except for the tiny rays of light still stabbing through the holes in the door, and something else.

Tiny motes of golden sunlight hang in the air like fireflies taunting the corpse. They float languidly towards the ground where ally floor. But they float slowly, as though Hekim’s point-nine-three gravity is a mere suggestion. The motes coalesce into an illusory ribbon spiralling to the ground.

The child creeps from their hiding place towards the corpse. The lights have come to rest in a tiny puddle of acidic rainwater. The child knows first happens what happens to shiny things that land in Hekim’s fetid rain water. The water strips and corrodes them within minutes. They become worthless. But not these motes of sunlight. They keep shining.

The child makes a decision and reaches down into the water to scoop up the sunlight. It doesn’t burn them! Afraid to look, they open their hand. The spark of sunlight still glows gold.

The next day, they take it to the freighter captain called Kalof. She has always been good to them and she has been to space, she should know what the sunlight is.

Kalof’s eyes go wide when the child opens their hand. “By the Endless, Kid! That’s Dust!” The captain crouches down beside the child and asks “where did you find this?” The child doesn’t answer. They don’t like talking. They clutch their hand to their chest as though afraid the once kindly captain will take their sunlight.

Kalof holds out her hands as of pouring sand on to the deck. “What you are holding there, is Endless’s gift to us. Even a few grains like that is worth a lot.” She pauses. The child doesn’t move. “If you give it to me, I can afford to take you off planet. I know a place you’ll be safe and where even this tiny amount will buy you a nice home. I just need a couple grains to be able to afford to refuel. What do you say?”

The child doesn’t speak. “Y'know,” Kalof says, “On Auriga, they say it only takes a single drop of Dust to change everything.”

20 years later, the former child stands on the bridge of a warship. Defensive cannon fire knocks torpedoes out of the void around them. The child, now an admiral, clutches a small vial that hangs from their neck as they shout orders. It’s a habit they picked up at the Academy. For a while, they tried to hide the habit, they worried it would make their crew crew respect them less if they showed fear. Time has show the opposite to be true. The vial contains the remaining half of the sunlight they found in that ally. A broadside from their flagship rips into a Craver gunship. A tendril of Dust a kilometer long pours out of the side of the gunship. The motes attempt to repair the starship, but the damage is too great.

The gunship pours kinetic weapon fire back at their flag ship. The flagship’s barriers hold, and the gunship slowly disintegrates as each shot from the flagship’s massive defensive cannons dislodges more and more of it’s fragile hull.

But the flagship and her admiral aren’t satisfied with a few gunships. They plunge towards the heart of the Craver swam. Fighters swoop towards the flagship, some firing others attempting suicide runs against the bridge. The defensive guns pick star fighters out of the black like a frog catching flies.

As the flagship’s last remaining salvo of Dust laden torpedoes hammer against the hive ship’s hull, the admiral feels the vial crack under the pressure of their fingers. Explosions from deep within the hive ship show that at least one torpedo has scored a lethal hit. Gouts of blue flame tear their way along the hull. Dust pours from the engine compartment like blood from a skewered fish. A final, brilliant, eye searing explosion tears apart the vessel and tosses the admiral’s flagship like a toy hurles by a stellar god. The explosion overloads the barriers, scorches the hell and flash melts the outer layer of hull plating but the ship holds.

Later, the logs will note this as a minor victory. One of many fought over this system. But the admiral knows the truth. That this, like all of their battles, is a victory that should never have happened.

It only takes a single drop, to change everything.

#endless space 2 #fanfiction #lumeris #cravers #dust #orphan #gender neutral

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7fics · 7 years

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BamJae during the pool v app where bambam keeps company to youngjae before he fell sick

Warnings: Descriptions of being sick, and some extreme unoriginality xD

Author: TJ

Word Count: 1.1k

Youngjae couldn’t remember the last time he felt so terrible. Sure, his health had never been particularly great, but being bogged down by a lingering cold was still infinitely better than whatever plague he’d managed to contract this time.

He knew he had a fever - the thermometer he’d stuck under his tongue minutes before had confirmed as much - but he still couldn’t stop shivering. The hyungs had been all too happy to heap the blankets from their beds on top of his own, but buried under three or four comforters, his body still wouldn’t give up the embarrassing trembling.

His head, however, was suffering from the exact opposite symptoms. His skull was throbbing from his overheating brain, just bordering on being outright painful. His eyes were watering even while shut, cheeks flushed as he struggled to suck in air past his congested airways. Even just lying there immobile was exhausting, and unfortunately, sleep wouldn’t come so easily now thanks to the long afternoon nap he’d taken earlier.

But perhaps the worst of it all was the anxiety knotting his stomach, a gnawing worry about his condition. He needed to perform soon, but how could he when he could hardly make it to the bathroom without vertigo sending him sprawling? He couldn’t afford to be sick, not now, and god just the thought of letting everyone down was enough to make him gag.

Quite literally.

Which was bad. Very, very bad, Youngjae soon realized, his throat seizing once his gag reflex had been involuntarily activated. He was regretting thinking about anything at all once stomach acid started to rise up in his throat, chest heaving as he all but fell out of bed, one shaky hand coming up to cover his mouth as the other frantically searched for something to help stabilize himself on his stumble across the room towards the bathroom.

But of course, his right knee decided to buckle halfway there, so Youngjae was quite resigned to puking his guts out on the hotel carpet when his weight was suddenly lifted, two arms coming to scoop him up from under his armpits and force him back upright.

Youngjae didn’t have the mental capacity to register anything else before he was upending the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, throat burning. There was relief somewhere at the back of his mind at somehow making it to the bathroom, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it much, too busy with his violent retching.

It was a trying few minutes, the hand patting his back through the whole ordeal managing to make it marginally better. Youngjae was dripping sweat by the time the gagging finally stopped, sinking down to sit on the tiled floor with a relieved sigh. It took all his self-restraint to not press his burning forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet.

He leaned his cheek up against it instead.

“You okay?” Bambam’s concerned face came into view, along with a wad of proffered toilet paper. Youngjae blinked once, clearly surprised, though unsure what exactly about the situation had caught him off guard. Nonetheless, he took the toilet paper from Bambam with a half-groan as thanks, wiping his mouth off with disgust before tossing the now soiled wad into the toilet.

Youngjae just breathed for a few more moments, Bambam padding away to return with a cup of water.

“Can you get up?” Bambam might as well not have asked the question, already proceeding to pull Youngjae up to his feet without waiting for a response. “You wanna rinse your mouth out first?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Youngjae croaked, leaning heavily against the bathroom counter as Bambam went to flush the toilet. While he felt even weaker than before, it was also undeniable that his stomach felt much better, and after ridding his mouth of the terrible aftertaste, Youngjae almost felt refreshed.

“Why are you here?” Youngjae’s brain, no longer preoccupied with vomiting, finally managed to process his previous confusion at Bambam’s presence. “Aren’t you guys going to do a vlive?”

“We thought leaving you alone would be a bad idea,” Bambam slung an arm around Youngjae’s waist, allowing him to lean up against Bambam comfortably as they slowly made their way back to the bed. “All the staff went out for a late night snack, and the vlive’s going to be pretty spontaneous, anyways.”

“Ah.”

Upon reaching the bed, Youngjae groaned as he sank down onto the mattress, burying his hot face in the now-cooled pillows as enthusiastically a sick person could. There was a faint giggle that must’ve come from Bambam in reaction, but Youngjae didn’t care - his ears were half-plugged, anyways.

“Hyung, you wanna get under the covers?” Bambam finally asked after a few moments, amusement still lacing his voice. Youngjae whined, kicking his feet weakly.

“The pillows aren’t cold anymore…”

“Oh come on, get under the covers,” Bambam forcibly rolled Youngjae over, lifting up the blankets before rolling Youngjae back underneath. “And just flip the pillows, see? The other side is nice and cold again.”

“Ahhhhhhh…”

Cheeks once again soothed by the cool cloth, Youngjae blearily blinked his eyes open, staring up at Bambam hazily.

“When did you become so smart?”

“What do you mean, when did I become smart? I’ve always been smart, okay?” Bambam was immediately indignant, cheeks puffing and Youngjae laughed, though it ended more on a wet cough. “Smart enough to stay healthy, too.”

“Aw man, now that’s a low blow,” Youngjae grumbled, eyes slipping shut once more, finding the darkness of his lids much less aggravating for his headache. “But thanks, Bam. You can go join the everyone else now, I’m okay. I think I’ve puked everything up now, anyways.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” There was the sound of something scraping against carpet, and the proximity of Bambam’s voice when he next spoke made it clear he’d dragged a chair to sit beside Youngjae’s bed.

“I’ll stay with you. It’s not an official schedule, so it doesn’t really matter if I’m missing. And the fans will think it’s weird if you’re the only one not there.”

“Are you sure?” Youngjae felt like he should be protesting more, because he was fine alone, really. The fans would be disappointed already that he was missing, there was no need to take Bambam away, too.

But it’d be a lie to say he didn’t feel more comforted with someone at his bedside, and speaking more words to convince Bambam otherwise seemed to require too much energy he just didn’t have.

He was far too sleepy, and goddamn it the pillow was getting too warm again…

“I’m sure.”

Bambam’s voice sounded vaguely distant, but the shifting of his pillows was all too close and real, the fingers combing through his hair to massage his sore scalp sending tingles down his spine. The satisfied sigh at the renewed coolness against his face was entirely involuntary as Youngjae slipped further towards slumber, his exhausted body finally coming to a rest.

He would worry about everything else later.

For now, he’d allow himself to indulge in Bambam’s care a little longer.

#bamjae #youngbam #got7 #character:youngjae #character:bambam #author:tj #genre:fluff

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ilovingcollectiongalaxy · 4 years

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Spiked seltzers haven’t lost their traction. We love a juicy IPA as much as the next guy, but sometimes you want a lighter alternative. If you’re already experiencing White Claw fatigue, know that there’s a big, beautiful world of spiked seltzers, hard teas, and canned cocktails you’ve likely never tried.

15 of the Best Summer Beers Made for the Beach Read article

Summer 2020 is as good a time as any to try some standouts. You’re spending more time at home, leaving plenty of time to crack open a cold one after yard work, lazing by the pool, or enjoying a day on the lake. Better yet, pick up some packs of spiked seltzers and other canned concoctions for your Fourth of July festivities. Whether you’re anticipating a leisurely or boisterous holiday weekend, it’ll surely benefit from these five.

Our Favorite Low-ABV Beers to Drink This Summer Read article

Not one is a flavored malt beverage. Each of these boasts premium alcohol and natural ingredients for a buzz that can’t be beat. Think of them as cocktails you’d make for yourself—only canned and ready to be toted to your favorite local beach, mountain, or buddy’s backyard.

The Best Spiked Seltzers, Hard Teas, and Canned Cocktails

Volley Sharp Grapefruit Spiked Seltzer Courtesy Image

1. Volley Sharp Grapefruit Spiked Seltzer

This newly launched line of spiked seltzers doesn’t rely on malt alcohol, nay. Volley utilizes 100 percent blue agave tequila from Guadalajara, Mexico, in its easy-to-slug concoctions. But we urge you to savor every sip. Unlike other spiked seltzers that use sub-par tequila mixed with malt liquor and additives, Volley sources blue agave from the highlands of Jalisco, where the agave plant matures slowly, yielding sweet, floral, well-rounded tequila. Flavors include fan favorites like Sharp Grapefruit, Zesty Lime, and Tropical Mango, as well as a wild card: Spicy Ginger. And since they’re using premium tequila, they don’t muck it up with unnecessary ingredients. Volley uses natural fruit juice and sparkling water—and that’s it! There are no concentrates, added sugars, or “natural” flavors, aka synthetic, lab-made essences that taste artificial (think watermelon seltzers that mimic Jolly Ranchers). The Sharp Grapefruit is refreshing with the tang and sharpness you’d get from a paloma. Available in New York, New Jersey, and Florida markets; online shipping available nationwide in all 50 states. Find the closest third-party retailer near you, here.

ABV: 5.25% Calories: 100-110 Carbs: 1 g Sugar: 0 g

[$13.99, 4-pack; drinkvolley.com]

Get it

LQD Hard Peach Green Tea Courtesy Image

2. LQD Hard Peach Green Tea

LQD (“liquid reimagined”) is a line of craft beverages that comes from Anheuser-Busch’s Brewer’s Collective. The sector’s lineup includes Hard Agave Limeade, Hard Hibiscus Lemonade, Hard Passionfruit Green Tea, and Hard Peach Green Tea—best enjoyed while playing a round of bocce ball or lolling about on a porch swing (just our humble opinion). The Hard Peach Green Tea has a soft, mellow fruitiness. The flavor isn’t overt—more like the musky fragrance of sun-ripened fruit. LQD brews decaffeinated green tea leaves with pure cane sugar (and a little yeast), which naturally ferments into alcohol (the same process as beer and wine), then they blend in more green tea and add whole peach puree. There are no artificial sugars or additives, and we love the lack of malt liquor. It’s incredibly smooth and a nice alternative to seltzer. Find the closest third-party retailer near you, here; also available on drizly.com.

ABV: 5.2-5.9% Calories: 150-185 Carbs: 11-18 g Sugar: 8-12 g

[$10.99, 6-pack; drinklqd.com]

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JuneShine Blood Orange Mint Hard Kombucha Courtesy Image

3. JuneShine Blood Orange Mint Hard Kombucha

For some, kombucha is the magical elixir that calms stomachs and delivers sweet, sweet salvation from the worst hangovers. You can thank the probiotics and antioxidants from its gut-friendly yeast and bacteria; they, along with organic acids, actually detoxify the liver, per research published in the CyTA Journal of Food. Some brilliant minds have used kombucha as a mixer in cocktails. It’s naturally effervescent and sour, after all. But Juneshine has done one better and created a lineup of hard kombuchas. Blood Orange Mint is one of their most popular, touting real blood oranges, green tea, cane sugar, a touch of honey, mint, and Jun kombucha (a variety of ‘booch, which is fermented with tea and honey instead of cane sugar, lending it a lighter, smoother taste). Grab one while barbecuing. Better yet, keep a cooler handy while you man the grill, ‘cus it’ll go down fast. Other notable flavors include Midnight Painkiller (coconut, pineapple, orange, turmeric, and nutmeg) and JuneShine’s new 100-calorie offering: Pineapple Orange and Hibiscus Lime. Find the closest third-party retailer near you, here; home delivery available in some states; also available on drizly.com.

ABV: 4.2%-6% Calories: 100-149 Carbs: Sugar:

[$29.99, 12-pack; nyc.juneshine.com]

Get it

Cutwater Lime Vodka Soda Courtesy Image

4. Cutwater Lime Vodka Soda

Cutwater has over a dozen different canned cocktail options (Rum Mojito, Whiskey Mule, Tiki Rum Mai Thai, the list goes on…), so you’d be hard pressed to find something you don’t like. Their line of vodka sodas will definitely hit the spot on sweltering summer days. Choose from Lime, Grapefruit, or Cucumber—all are made with the brand’s very own Fugu vodka, which is distilled six times from corn-based grains, then filtered 15 times (precision is the name of the game) with either naturally flavored lime, cucumber, or grapefruit soda water. It’s crisp, light and everything we want to be drinking on a body of water (or a hot-as-hell fire escape in Brooklyn). Find the closest third-party retailer near you, here; also available on drizly.com.

ABV: 5% Calories: 99 Carbs: 0 g Sugar: 0 g

[$12.99, 4-pack; drizly.com]

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Southern Tier Distilling Vodka Madras Courtesy Image

5. Southern Tier Distilling Vodka Madras

Seeking a canned cocktail with some artisanal flair? Southern Tier‘s got just the ticket. Their Vodka Madras has more depth and complexity than your average ready-to-drink varietal. Cardamom is steeped in chamomile tea, providing zest and warmth to counteract sweet orange juice and tart cranberry and lime juices. It all gets mixed with their Southern Tier Vodka, which is made from 100 percent New York State wheat and distilled multiple times (read: it goes down smooth). This little beauty was a 2019 SIP Award Best of Class Platinum winner to boot. Other notable canned cocktails include Bourbon Smash (straight bourbon whiskey, ginger, mint, and lemon), Gin & Tonic, and Vodka Soda. Find the closest third-party retailer near you, here; also available on drizly.com.

ABV: 8%

[$12.49, 4-pack; southerntierdistilling.com]

Get it

15 of the Best Summer Beers Made for the Beach Read article

The post The Best Spiked Seltzers, Hard Teas, and Canned Cocktails appeared first on Men's Journal.

from Men's Journal Latest Food & Drink News https://ift.tt/2NPgmek

#Health and Fitness News #Blogger

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theshoelessfaggot · 6 years

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15 Common Myths About The paving contractors Industry.

These 6 Facts About Power Washing the Driveway Will Change the Way You Do #Marketing

— We Are Bait (@wearebaitly) January 8, 2017

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First, take your time

Are product data sheets and Material Safety Information Sheets out there

Acids might be nice cleaners

Paver Driveway – #4 – Least Ongoing Maintenance

Comfort degree

A portfolio detailing work previously completed including jobsite data and photographs

This sprayin’ stuff is straightforward

Degrades once it reaches its life span restrict

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Service Magic to send them my cellphone number.

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Publisher: Robert Salinas Constructing a patio or a walkway?

Dispute with customers is inevitable when running a enterprise. By requesting a referral from a job that concerned a complaint and ask how it was resolved. This may provide you with an concept of the company’s performance in dealing with buyer complaints. The contractor should also be open to questions regarding matters like disputes with prospects, job-associated course cases, license suspension, and others which will clear the doubts of consumers. Has their own installers. When it is build up properly it created a extra long lasing effect. Publisher: Robert Salinas Constructing a patio or a walkway? If that’s the case, it’s time you began contemplating utilizing brick pavers Houston. The next info ought to inform you every thing you have to know about them. Publisher: Tem Driveways are typically the ultimate thing on peoples mind after they come back residence, to the majority it is merely an space to put their automobiles and lead as much as their properties. However contemplating the driveway is one amongst the first things company and even prospective consumers see after they arrive back to your house you may want to administer them an honest impression.

Paver-based mostly tasks are constructed to final, and created to be considerably stronger than concrete-primarily based ones. Publisher: Louie Jane Caturza When searching pavers on your pathway and driveway select an organization that offers high quality products and services to make your pathways and driveways lengthy lasting and presentable. In Geelong a domestically owned and operated business provides quite a lot of options for your paving needs for many years now. Writer: John McKenzie Panagos Pavers, brick, and stone will be dry-laid over a mattress of sand by a homeowner or DIY person with little issue.

Take into account that this is not a do-it-your self mission and would require licensed chip seal contractors in Blanco TX to get the results you need. How much asphalt needs to be used within the mixture? You could also be all for the precise amount of asphalt that will probably be utilized when creating this mix. The shape of your driveway can have an unlimited influence on the exact quantity of asphalt that should be used. Specify how many layers are included within the job, an outline of the materials that will likely be used for each layer (sub-base, base and asphalt), and the thickness of every layer when compacted. Two separate layers, or lifts, of asphalt is most well-liked, totaling at the least 3 and ideally four inches. Sub-base and base needs to be not less than 6 inches each, comprised of limestone rocks with 3-to-4-inch diameter and a pair of-to-three-inch diameter, respectively.

And even in hotter climates, water penetration can cause critical injury. The larger the crack, the more serious the problem, and the sooner it needs to be fixed. Cracks which might be left un-repaired will result in severe deterioration of the pavement and even to the bottom layers, requiring full substitute of the driveway – sooner reasonably than later in colder climates. Can it be fastened or do you want a new driveway? If your driveway has been resurfaced a number of times with hot mix asphalt and keeps deteriorating prematurely, it is likely an issue with the inspiration, and you should consider putting in a complete new driveway. Reduction of Pollutants: The aggregate filters and sub-grade soils the enable sedimentation to happen, and contribute by means of bacterial treatment of the pollutants and cation exchange. Good micro organism are found on nicely established sub-soil bases. Also, because rain water enters via the paver floor virtually instantly, it’s not unnaturally heated, which signifies that it enters our strem beds and oceans at a decrease temperature. Where Not to use Permeable Pavers: Pavers needs to be installed a minimum of a hundred ft from water provide wells, streams and wetlands. Landscaping Upkeep Ideas for your Lawn 2. Crucial Steps When Marking Your Property For Landscaping Tasks 3. Tree Trimming And Hedge Upkeep Is important For Secure Atmosphere 4. Backyard Fencing: What kind of Fencing Is Proper For You? What Are The Things You must Find out about Building Pools? Get a Clean Swimming Pool Not a Green Pool 10. Tips on how to Design Your Kitchen with White Cabinets?

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betlinedesign · 7 years

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Syracuse

About a year ago, I went out to Syracuse for a design conference. To say it was an awesome experience wouldn't do that weekend away justice - it was the first time I had ever taken myself somewhere in New York State by myself, and though I was initially nervous, it turned out to be one of the super positive experiences we all hope to have. I made some new friends, found some amazing places to hang out, and totally broke out of my comfort zone.

This year, I wasn’t able to go to the design conference (deployment sucks) but I was lucky enough to get to show my husband around the city I found I loved last year. We were able to spend one last weekend away together before he’s off for his deployment, and Syracuse did not disappoint!

I’m a Californian, and as a West Coast gal it’s always mind-blowing for me to consider how close together things are out here. In the time it would take (without traffic) to get from San Diego to Los Angeles, we were able to get get in Syracuse and get settled into our hotel room.

We stayed at the Aloft Inner Harbor Syracuse , which is this AMAZING hotel not too far outside of my favorite neighborhood, Armory Square. Our room looked out on the water, the bed was unbelievably comfy, and the modern decor and aesthetic totally brought us back to our Iceland trip from a few weeks ago.

There wasn’t a single picture I took of the hotel that didn’t include an explosion of our stuff, so I’ll just refer you to their photos - I promise, this is exactly what the room looked like, and it was huge. Absolutely huge.

We both had to work while we were in Syracuse, but the positive is we had three whole days to hang out, so we found plenty of time for adventures. While my husband checked in with his local leadership and checked off some last minute things with his team, I happily connected with the hotel for some remote work. Sometimes it can be hard for me to work remotely - my job requires some pretty hefty bandwidth for internet that has (on occasion) overwhelmed my home router, but the hotel internet was a beast and kept pace with me all day, and no matter where I went (by the hotel, down in the lobby, hanging out in our room) I was connected and good to go.

Eating

Truthfully, it can sometimes be a pain to try to find clean eating friendly food while traveling. While the world has become much more open to the idea of alternative eating models, a lot of what we see labelled as “clean eating” or “organic” still doesn't really mesh with the way we eat. This certainly isn’t a judgement or an admonishment to the world for not conforming to how I personally live, but seriously nothing wrecks a vacation like feeling bloated and lethargic because you aren’t eating right.

More often than not, we pack ourselves food that we know meets our standard and dietary restrictions. We’ve rolled up to beach weekends with friends with a massive cooler of goodies, just to be sure that we’ll be set up for the weekend.

That being said, it was surprisingly easy to find restaurants that were clean eating friends all across the broader Syracuse area. I had no idea that grain bowls were becoming such a thing, but I am not complaining - it was fantastic!

One of the places we stopped in most frequently was CoreLife Eatery, which is an awesome restaurant where you can build your own grain bowl. My husband refers to it as the Chipotle for clean eating, and he isn’t wrong.

Not only were the salads, soups, and grain bowls all clean eating with serious vegetarian options, but their fountain drinks were so good! There’s a high chance that they were packed with sugar, which we are supposed to be avoiding, but we just cut it down with half water and decided to indulge.

Our big date night in town involved heading to Pastabilities, which honestly we half chose because of the name. I saw that they made their pasta from scratch, and it seemed like it might be clean eating so, we gave it a shot. It was fantastic!

I studied abroad in Italy, so I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart from really good quality Italian food. We were sitting on the back patio of Pastabilities, and the smell was exactly like so many of the coastal restaurants that I had loved eating at when I first arrived. Plus, it was the first time in years I had access to burrata, AKA the cheese of all cheeses, and I scarfed it down in every possible way. If you’re ever in Syracuse, I would HIGHLY recommend giving Pastabilities a shot. You won’t regret it!

If you know me well, you know that I have coffee issues. I spent 6 years working at Starbucks, and while I can no longer speak to the training process, when I came through, you had to try out all of the coffee types, be able to speak to them with authority, and pair them. Since that was also my first job, that was where and how I got hooked on coffee. Excellent planning on Starbuck’s part - it’s actually difficult for me to drink a normal cup of coffee, because light or medium roast is just too acidic and ends up giving me stomach problems.

For this reason, I can be a little hesitant about trying new coffee out. As I mentioned before, nothing wrecks a relaxing vacation like having an upset stomach. That being said, we found Freedom of Espresso in Franklin Square just down the block from our hotel, and it was really cute. The dark roast actually was a dark roast, and it had great flavor and depth. My only slight critique is that when we were there at 8am on a Friday, there were no snacks. At all. We bought day old bagels that they had out, but I was sorta bummed that we had to go find breakfast somewhere else. It’s also worth noting that when I stumbled into another Freedom of Espresso location in Armory Square, they had plenty of options - I think we just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Our last surprise find was Original Grain. To be honest, I was a little bit skeptical at first. I mean, why are there so many grain bowl spots in one town, and why is this one so fresh and hip but empty?

I can’t really explain the emptiness, especially because I’ve never been more wrong about a place. It was BANGING. Like, seriously, the most amazing glorious thing I’ve had in a while. We found this place the day after we watched Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, so when my husband dragged me off to the bathroom door to see the Notorious B.I.G. photo, we felt pretty confident that we had made the right choice.

The staff was unbelievably sweet, and let me ask a million questions - and even subbed out ahi tuna for chicken when I mentioned that I was a vegetarian (I just expected them to leave it off and charge us the same price). I ordered the Mexi-Cali bowl (obviously. If it has either ‘Mexi’ or ‘Cali’ in it, I’m 98% more likely to order it) and I’m not sure what my favorite part was - how pink it was, or how fresh. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I ate food and it tasted like California, but this had it down.

A side bar about New York food. It’s good, and I clearly have chosen to live here. But there’s something about California food - I swear you can taste the sunshine in it. Produce from California just tastes different, and it gets lost when you ship it. The way that produce and veggies taste, smell, feel at home is just different and more vibrant. But I’m biased, don’t trust me ;)

Adventures

While of course we did out fair share of relaxing by the pool at the hotel and lounging in our luxurious room, what’s the point of visiting a new place if you don’t check out some cool sites?

We’re big fans of wandering around, so we headed over to Armory Square one afternoon, which is my favorite neighborhood in Syracuse. There’s a ton of cute little shops, some coffee joints, and yummy restaurants - plus, the Museum of Science and Technology is right smack dab in the middle, so there’s a ton of people watching and fun things to explore without spending too much. This the neighborhood that has Original Grain, Pastabilities, and a Freedom of Espresso location.

Sadly, it isn’t really summer in upstate New York without crazy amounts of rain that drop out of nowhere, so when an unexpected thunderstorm rolled through, we headed over to Destiny, USA. It really isn’t our type of place - it’s one of those megamalls that popped up when we were in high school, but lately we’ve stepped a little bit away from that kind of mentality. There’s not a lot for minimalist yogis with a penchant for organic fair trade cotton to find at a mall, but it was interesting to walk around and check out. If we had kids, this would have been their dream place - there was an indoor adventure spot where kids were strapped into these safety harnesses and climbing all over the place, and a few indoor style amusement parks. While ultimately it wasn’t our jam, I’m glad we stopped in.

When the storm cleared up, we headed out to a little park new Lake Oswego, which was too cute for words. There was a little bit of a beachside main street feel to it, and it’s been developed to have a biking path, a running path, and huge amounts of lawn and outdoor play areas for kids. We spent some time wandering around, and admiring peoples dogs as they came by (we were getting homesick for our little man by this point, clearly).

After another weekend there, I still love Syracuse. It’s a lovely city, and it’s always nice to see some of these older, former industrial cities starting to revitalize and made beautiful again. Have you ever been out to Syracuse? What are your favorite spots? Let me know in the comments below!

#Syracuse #Travel Blog #Upstate New York Travel #Clean Eating and Traveling #Reviews

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