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stellayla · 1 year

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Alhaitham x gn!maid!reader x Kaveh (slow burn? ig)

this is longer than expected but the ideas kept flowing out. i only ended up finishing this because my airpods died while i was at school. i apologize if grammar and capitalization is inconsistent, i wrote this in a span of like three-ish weeks

• Alhaitham was tired of Kaveh complaining and not getting his work done in order to pay rent

• So he hired a cleaning service which just so happens to be you!

• And he offered more money than usual customers so who were you to decline, especially with him as the acting grand sage.

• Your first day on the job wasn’t so bad other than upon entering the shared home, you were met with a tall blond man claiming you were a burglar or, after seeing your uniform, thought you were a stripper.

• After introducing yourself as a CLEANING maid that Alhaitham hired, Kaveh relaxed slightly but then grumbled about the gray haired man not taking responsibility in his simple chores.

• Speak of the devil and he shall appear, said man greeted you and told you of your tasks. After some arguing between the roommates, you were finally set with your chores and started to work.

• Kaveh watched you for a bit while still trying to do some work just to make sure you were doing things correctly and not stealing anything. When you were done organizing a shelf and moving to the other side of the room, he interrupted your humming, “you don’t need to do this, you know? you can run away from him and i can make an excuse for you.”

• You replied, “i appreciate the offer Mr. Kaveh, but i do this job because i like it! no matter who or what im helping, i thoroughly enjoy it! and if i may say, sir, you don’t need to worry so much. i’ll clean until everything is in its right place and spotless! and if there is anything you’d request of me cleaning wise, i’ll do it.”

• Alhaitham heard this and walked in saying, “They’re right, i hired them because they’re one of the best of the best. So go relax a bit and finish your work so you can pay your rent on time.”

• After you were all finished, the cleaning lasting about five hours, you were packing everything up, getting ready to head out. Until the buff gray haired man came out of his study and looked around, his face didn’t show much, but something inside you told you he was impressed.

• “You did a good job. I’d like for you to come by every week, if that’s alright for you.” You agreed and took your paycheck. You didn’t have much other clients so the hours you agreed to do and the pay was exceptional.

• When you came back the next week, kaveh greeted you saying how he was finally able to get more work done than usual and how well you did, thanking you profusely for your work.

• The next few weeks you came to clean the bachelor pad were quiet, rather than the occasional arguing between the roommates but it soon became white noise from you hearing it so much. and plus, after you started working more, the rarer the arguments would be.

• Another change was your chores. now you were sent to grab produce, books, and documents since you didn’t have to clean as much now. and rather than working just once a week, it was multiple days. you hadn’t minded though, you were happy to help the busy men.

• Speaking of said men, they realized how much work they were putting you through and eventually sat you down for a proposal…

• No not a marriage proposal, a business proposal. though you were basically acting as a housewife for these men

• They asked if you’d like to like to work as their personal assistant or go back to cleaning their home once a week.

• Over the past month or two of working for them you honestly started to view them as friends and what type of person would say no to helping their friends?

• So you take up the offer! you stay with them nearly every day, rarely ever going back to your own apartment. which sucked because, rent, but you were getting paid by ur friends well enough.

• But after staying with them for so long you realized how little they eat or sleep so you would always make them meals.

• The first time they woke up to see you in the kitchen making breakfast (it was noon) is when they both started falling for you.

• there was multiple occasions where you crashed on one of their couches. this made them realize they were over working you a bunch and designated specific days you would help either of them.

• One night it was very early in the morning and Kaveh asked you for help on something earlier in the night. You were down to help and was able to get some work done with the best of your ability. However, you didn’t realize how long it’d take and your eyelids started getting heavy you tried to fight it but you noticed Kaveh was too immersed in his work so he won’t notice if you rested your head and surrendered from the fight with your eyelids. The blond man heard your pencil drop from your grasp and your light snores and moved his gaze to you. It softened when it hit your sleeping figure. Kavehs heartstrings pulled at this and sighed. He got up and grabbed a blanket for you and silently told himself he’ll do a little more work until he’ll go to sleep himself. He might even wait for you to get into a deeper sleep to carry you to sleep in his bed in a more comfortable position. But for now, he’ll do his work and steal glances at you, smiling softly and getting distracted by doodling a picture of you in his sketchbook. He made sure to hide it before going to sleep.

• As always, you woke up before both of the men and decided to make breakfast. That was until you saw the scarce groceries they had, so then you were about to leave for the market. “Oh, are you heading out?” said Alhaitham. You responded, “Just going to get you guys some groceries and make you guys breakfast. Do you need me to do anything, sir?” He sighed and said, “I know I’m your employer but we’re friends now, you don’t need to call me sir, Y/n.” You nodded as he continued, “I have to do some of my own errands, though. Would you mind if I accompanied you?” Thus started your date errand running with Alhaitham. You had grabbed the groceries and a few other things for the household with the help of the gray haired man. It didn’t take very long, an hour at least. But you made your way back to the house, carrying bags with Alhaitham and ready to start breakfast. When in front of the stove, that’s when you realized the sage hadn’t done any of his own errands, he only had helped you. You brought this up with him and he said it could wait for another time. In truth, he hadn’t needed to do anything at that moment. He just wanted to spend time with you and help you, he had gotten a warm feeling in his chest when he imagined doing domestic things, such as shopping and cooking, with you.

• They hadn’t realized how much they actually depended on you until you requested a month off to take care of your sick old neighbor. When you came back Kaveh embraced you saying how much he had missed you and he’ll never take you for granted. You said you missed the both of them and apologized for not being able to help for a while. “That’s nonsense, Y/n. You were doing what you do best.” said Alhaitham. “Thank you, Alhaitham.” You said as you hugged him. “How about we go to a restaurant? To celebrate your coming back.” Suggested Kaveh. “As long as your paying.” Alhaitham said as he grabbed your hand to lead you out the door.

• You all walked to Lambad’s Tavern and the boys kaveh were arguing over who would sit next to you. You sat yourself down first and the blonde ran to sit next to you in the booth, lying his arm on the chair behind you and talking about nonsense. Alhaitham, who sat across from you, was a little bummed but reached for your extended hand that was lying on the table, causing you to stutter in your sentence and pink to slightly dust your cheeks. This didnt got unnoticed by Kaveh as he fumed silently, but calmed down as an idea popped in his head. His hand that was behind you snaked down to your waist and his other hand on your knee, his fingers drawing little shapes.

•Your cheeks were very red and hot and you wondered to yourself, ‘how did I get myself in this situation where two very hot men are basically fighting over me?’.

• “Uhm, you guys…” you say.

• Alhaitham was the first to say it out right, “Y/n, I really enjoy the time we spend together. I may not show it much but, I like you.”

• Kaveh was taken aback, “WHAT?!? No, no, no. Y/n, I like you, a lot, in fact. He doesn’t deserve you.”

• As they bickered back and forth, you were conflicted and flattered. You had liked both of the men for a while now, but could you really choose one? No, that’d hurt the other far too much.

• “Alhaitham. Kaveh.” you called their names to get their attention. “I am flattered as much as I’m conflicted. I, too, should confess that I like you too. Both of you, equally. But I can’t just choose between you two. That would hurt me too much. I’m sorry.” You get up to start to leave but a hand softly grabs yours. You look back to see the gray haired man who had held your hand before. “Y/n, please. Stay. There’s no need to be sorry.”

• “Like us, you can’t control your feelings.” says the blonde as he hugs you. Alhaitham continues to hold your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles in a calming way as he says, “I should propose that you don’t choose.” both you and kaveh are confused, “Alhaitham what are you trying to say?” you ask. The sage continues, “Be selfish, for once in your life, Y/n. You do so much for others, and rarely think about yourself. Do yourself a favor, my love.” Kaveh made a face of realization, “Oh, I understand now!” as he clutched your other hand. “Darling, what do you say? Be selfish and choose us both.”

• Once again you blushed furiously. Choose them both? Was that possible? What would others think? Your mind was racing but could only spill out one thing, “Are you sure you two can share?” Kaveh looked offended and Alhaitham chuckled, “Anything for you, my love.” Kaveh agreed, “yeah, yeah what he said, I guess.”

• “Then, of course. It won’t hurt to be a little selfish.”

(at some point when writing this i imagined kaveh as prince gumball and alhaitham as marshall lee and it fits way too well.)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #kaveh x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #kaveh x you #kaveh imagines #alhaitham imagines

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boldlyvoid · 11 days

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Where There is Love, There is Life | Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Choice | for @elriel-month 2024

Summary: Elain trains, Azriel Gossips, and Lucien learns the truth.

Warnings: made up Daglan lore, mentions of HOFAS, history of bonds, Helion and Lucien talk

Word Count: 6k | Masterlist

Sitting in Helion’s personal library once again, there is a sheet of paper, an ink well and pen, and a stack of books almost as tall as Elain. And that’s just what Helion has deemed important for todays lesson. The walls are covered in books, well, 3 of them are. The fourth is dedicated to a chalkboard adorned with thoughts, theories and numbers she doesn’t yet understand.

“Now that we’ve gone over astrology, did you happen to get all the birthdays of your inner circle?” Helion asks, pushing the pen and paper towards her.

“I thought we were doing numerology today?” Elain asks, realizing she never brought the sheet of paper with the dates on it.

“We are,” he smiles. Today’s one of the rare hot days in spring, so her eyes dart from his smile to his big muscled arm that he has on show. The shirt he’s wearing can barely be considered a shirt at this point; it just covers his nipples and stomach… but she’s not complaining.

“Then why—

“Everyone has a life path number, which you get by adding up the numbers of one birth month and day,” he continues. “The easiest way to learn how to calculate the number is through repetition. So, start with your own and then your sisters; we can move on to the bat boys in a moment.”

The term makes her smile. She straightens her back, grabs the pen, and starts to write. “My birthday is May 16th.”

“It is?” He lights up. “Well, we’ll have to throw you a party, then!”

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay,” she waves him off. “I might go home for the day.”

He nods, “Or we could invite your court here? There is a beautiful plot of land my Pegasus frequents. It’s lush with flowers and fruit trees; I think it would be the perfect spot to celebrate you.”

She blushes; it sounds magnificent. “If it’s not too much—

“It would never be too much,” he assures her. “Now, May is already a single number. You’ll have to add 1 and 6 together…”

“So 5 plus 7,” she starts to write. “My number is 12.”

“It can also be simplified down to 3,” he smiles. “Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you radiate 3 more than I’ve ever thought possible.”

He pulls a book from the pile, flips through some pages and slides it in front of her. “See here; people with life path number 3 are creative spirits driven by their infinite imagination. Which is why the cauldron must’ve gifted you with sight. It knew you could see the wildest visions and still decode them.”

She continues to read the pages, absorbing the knowledge— some of it does sound like her. Like not being able to pick a singular hobby but rather jumping back and forth between everything she enjoys. She would go crazy without baking, gardening and cross-stitching. An independent, free spirit, she’s not restrained by others' expectations of her. Yet, she also loves being around people. Having friends outside of her sisters for the first time has truly changed her life. She felt so lost without Nuala and Cerridwen; she misses them so much right now. She’ll have to ensure they come for her birthday and not lift a finger the whole day! They deserve a break.

“Anything sticking out?” Helion asks.

She nods, “a few things… I’m definitely unable to stay organized. Ask Feyre; my greenhouse is a mess on a good day.”

“Speaking of the High Lady, what is her birthday?”

“December 21st,” she starts to write it down. “December is 12, so that becomes 3… the 21st also becomes 3, so her number is 6.”

“Exactly,” Helion beams. “Were you this good in school, too?”

“All 7 years that I was able to go,” she says with a sigh. “I learned what was important, my mother said that once I was married I’d only need to focus on keeping a house together. She said I’d never need advanced math.”

Helion presses his lips together awkwardly, “Well, at least this math isn’t hard.”

She simply flips the pages, finding the information on the meaning of 6… which is exactly how she would describe her sister. She starts to laugh at it; it’s way too accurate.

“As a child and young adult, responsibility was always there on your 6 Life Path, but you may have rebelled against it,” she reads. “You will learn a lot about parenting in this life time. But you are also here to create, to learn that creativity has many forms, and is not confined only to creating a biological family.”

Helion smiles. “She did make a son as beautiful as her paintings.”

“That she did,” Elain sighs, chest full of pride.

The 6 Life Path teaches you that you are primarily accountable to yourself, that family members and relatives do not own each other, and that love thrives when it is able to flow freely in all directions.

She’s always loved her sisters and always will… however loving them became a lot easier when they weren’t all sharing a bed. Knowing Feyre is on the other side of her massive mansion of a home, knowing she could just walk to her when she needs her, that’s a blessing. Knowing Nesta is just a quick trip to the House of Wind, living her best life with people who love her, that’s all she’s ever wanted for Nesta.

Being apart somehow brought them closer together.

“Nesta is April 13th,” she says, starting to write once again. “4 and 4 is 8… she has an 8-pointed star on her back.”

Helion’s eyes widen, “like the lost sword Gwydion.”

She nods, not allowing her face to change at all. It sure was still lost… it’s totally not in Nesta’s possession.

She turns back a page, finding it interesting that she and her sisters are so close in number and yet such polar opposites of each other. That’s life, though.

“The path of Empowerment,” she reads, filled with pride, once more… it fades when she starts to read and it gets too real.

The 8 Life Path signifies a lifetime of investing in yourself and overcoming judgments that stand between you and your strong ambitions. Modern numerology often diminishes 8’s meaning with an almost exclusive focus on material and financial matters. Yes, 8 is the number of power on the physical plain, but it is also the number of true understanding and balance, without which personal power is superficial and material gain is easily lost.

“I love her,” she whispers, trying not to cry. “She struggles in silence and lets it eat at her until that hunger needs to bite at someone else.”

Helion nods along, “But it’s all about balance. While she may be in her head, thinking she deserves or doesn’t deserve certain aspects of her life… she’s powerful. Not too selfish, she’s able to use her hurt and her experiences to connect. She networks and organizes, and she’s convincing. I heard about her little dance with Eris last year. I saw how she captivated the high lords during the war and managed to change even Berons mind. The bad comes with the good, making her a perfect 8.”

Elain nods along, finding her smile once more. “She is… everything.”

“Believe me, I know,” he teases. Still hitting on her no matter how long she’s been mated. “Now, do you remember the others?”

“I believe so… they’re on my desk in my room,” she shares.

“I’ll have someone bring them to us,” he assures, waving in a servant.

She writes down Azriel’s. January 27th. An Aquarius, and after her lesson the other day, nothing fits better for him. He lives in his head, thinks outside the box, and has a deep sense of justice. He's an easygoing loner, and he’s an air sign. It’s no wonder he loves to fly. One of a kind with beautiful eyes, they say what they think with great eloquence… that’s her Az.

His life path number, however, is 1.

“Ah… of course,” Helion says as he reads over her shoulder. “One typically takes care of themselves, stand on their own two feet and always get what they want.”

She smirks, blushing again. “He does.”

Once again, on his page of the book, she reads everything… but it’s not right. “He’s not self-centred or insensitive?”

“With you,” Helion reminds her. “At work, when he’s the spymaster, the shadowsinger… he has to put himself first; he has to not care because bringing feelings into an interrogation will backfire on him.”

“I guess,” she continues to read.

But because 1 is the first number, being at the top – being first – is your natural place. You will gain the maximum satisfaction from this energy when, instead of using it to compete, you use its pioneering vibrations to carve new roads in areas that interest you the most.

“He is the best at what he does,” she can agree with that. “Oh, and it says concentration is one of the splendid gifts a number 1 has. When he’s been given a command, he’s always so focused on getting the job done.”

“No wonder you’re so happy,” Helion nudges her.

She shoves him back. “Yes, and It says here: Practice the art of leadership by welcoming and encouraging your ‘following’, while confidently maintaining your position as originator and leader. Others soon realize that you will not be tricked into anything that goes against your grain or best interests.”

“That’s your man,” Helion agrees. Standing from his seat, he meets the servant at the door and takes her note. “The most powerful High Lord was born on the Eve of Samhain… when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. When magic is at its height.”

“So his number would be…. October is 10, so that’s a 1, and 31 becomes 4, so he’s a 5,” she says with glee. “He and Feyre are just a number apart.”

“5s are an interesting breed,” Helion hesitates, sitting back down beside her, he takes a deep breath. “They’re intense, both emotionally and sexually. Their body, mind and emotions are equipped to easily adapt to change… However, they either flourish with the change or are overwhelmed by it. 5s are able to change their inner attitudes and outer appearances to suit different circumstances”

“That’s my brother-in-law,” Elain laughs.

The book states: 5 is an active and unpredictable path. It is so filled with sudden and unusual events and opportunities that you sometimes become confused by it or afraid of it. Once in a while, these 5s do let go, or the 5 current becomes so strong that they are swept away into some kind of drama, only to miss the excitement of it all because they believe they are simply out of control. The freedom of 5 starts with a burning desire to live life as fully, freely, and openly as possible and to experience variety, excitement and adventure. And, of course, these desires can only come from within. Refusing to let go of what is safe and familiar so that you can discover alternatives is a large part of what causes a mistake to be repeated. And most 5s do seem to repeat the same old mistakes, often without realizing it. Admitting to your mistakes can be a battle in itself. Accept that mistakes are inevitable in your life because that is how 5s learn and prosper.

“I’m going to need a scribe to copy this for him,” Elain teases. “He could learn a thing or two.”

Helion smirks, crossing his arms as he sits back in his chair. “Have you ever been on the wrong end of one of his decisions?”

“Just last week,” she shares. “He thought it was okay to tell Az to stay away from me so he could keep a good connection with Lucien and the Human Queen, Vassa. Not taking into account that fact that I may want say in my future.”

Helion nods slowly, “Sounds like Rhysand.”

She lets it roll off her shoulders, “I settled it. He’s learning, albeit slowly, but he’s learning how to deal with the Archeron sisters.”

“How does Cassian deal with you all? Being a Cancer and all,” he pushes the paper towards her.

“July 9th…” she reads aloud. “That would be 7 and 9, so 16 becomes 7.”

“Perfectionists, prone to secrecy, but as they get older, that need to protect themselves goes away,” Helion explains. “Knowing Cassian as long as I have, he had a hard time trusting people to be as good as he was; he did work while with his legion because he knew that he would be the one to get shit done right.”

“And now he’s accepted that the rest of us are there to help him and he’s not alone,” Elain smiles softly. “What else?” She asks as she flips in the book.

“Deep thinker, a cleaver planner… he’s the orchestrator. It’s why he leads armies and he will go down in history as the best warrior since Enalius.”

She finds a passage that is so Cassian, she sits up straighter as she reads it: Your intuition enables you to sense and feel your way through life. Positive results will follow when you learn to rely on the combined voice of your thoughts and feelings. While others sit perplexed by a problem, you can produce the right answer, instinctively, in one intuitive flash. And once you have the solution, your intuition will take you inward and backward to show you how you arrived at it.

Helion nods along. “Numerology is one of my favourite aspects of divination. Numbers are everywhere, you’ll start noticing them more and more now that you’ve learned this.”

“How so?”

“You’ll notice that you look at the clock at specific times every day, without real reason. You’ll notice things come in packs of 3 or 8 or 12. You might even have numbers in your dreams…. And in visions, speaking of which, have you had any since you’ve been here?”

She shakes her head, “No, I haven’t had one in a few weeks. They only come to me when they want to.”

He hums, “okay… Tomorrow, I wanted to do some hydromancy, but I think it’s time we look more into clairvoyance and clairaudience. Both are extrasensory perception; the mother or the cauldron or whatever you believe in either whisper the future into your ears or show you glimpses of the future.”

“I have had both,” she assures. “During the war, I had no idea what was happening and while I kept seeing the firebird who ended up being Vassa, the ravens were first whispered to me. I kept hearing ‘the ravens are coming’ and it confused me so much.”

Helion starts looking around at all his personal books, reading the titles, but he cannot find what he wants. “I’m going to have a book delivered to your room tonight,” he explains. “You don’t have to read it all. However, it will be a good introduction to what we will be discussing soon.”

She nods, “are you sure we should have a large lesson tomorrow, given that Lucien is coming?”

His eyes widen, as if he forgot that was happening. “What if we meet here at dawn? You can join me for my meditation to get in the zone for the day and I’ll have breakfast dropped off here so we can begin early.”

She nods, “I would like that.”

—

Azriel’s shadows are like a second skin to him after 500 years. He almost doesn’t notice when they come and go, not until they’re whispering secrets and warnings to him. It takes a while for him to realize that his shadows disappear around Elain. They can find her, they can follow her if he asks, yet when she’s close, they leave. He’s not sure if it’s for privacy or because they know he’s completely safe with her… out of everyone in the world, Elain is the only person he’s truly safe with.

When he returns to the day court, his shadows simply say that she’s in the library and dissipate.

He heads to the main library, the first of many in the day court, the closest to the palace. Inside, he can’t scent her over the smell of old books… yet there is a hint of Ash. His shadows come rushing back, worried for him after everything he’s been through in the last few years. He’s been hit with more ash arrows and faebane in the last 3 years than he has in his whole life, which is saying something.

He follows the smell, a hand on the truth teller as he approaches an alcove. He knows the female sitting at the table, at least from what he can see of her over the stacks of books: Nuan, the Alchemist from the Dawn Court. He knew she’d be here; she had been here all week, researching the Ash family to see all that it could do to the Fae.

He clears his throat, alerting her to his presence and making her jump in her seat slightly. “Oh, hello, Lord Azriel.”

He grimaces, shaking his hands, “Please, it’s just Azriel.”

“Azriel,” she settles with a smile. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He shakes his head, “I was looking for Elain, I think I have the wrong library.”

“Ah,” she smiles, having guessed that the high lady’s sister and the spymaster were together. “Well, since you’re here, I have a question.”

He approaches her, standing beside her work table, “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve come across a book on the Daglan, the history of the start of Prythian and old folklore,” she explains. “Do you know anything about how they were conquered?”

Az takes a deep breath and assesses if he should tell her. Rhys would be pissed… not as pissed as when Nesta gave Bryce the mask, but still pissed. If answers come from this, however, he might not stay mad for long.

So Az takes a seat.

“Where do I even start,” he can’t help but laugh.

He started when Bryce arrives, explaining their trip to the prison and the history they uncovered. Theia and her daughters, the Daglan, the portals to other worlds… how they concurred worlds and were overthrown only twice and finally destroyed by the portal-jumping half-fae who stole his dagger. He explains how the Daglan corrupted the cauldron and created the monsters now locked in the prison in the night court…. And how the same portals they used to jump worlds brought in the beasts that hunt in The Middle. Beings like the kelpie, the weaver and whatever Amren was before the war. Even Koshcei.

“Cauldron almighty…” she swears, jaw dropped as her eyes wander, thinking a mile a minute in her mind. “Do you know how they corrupted the cauldron?”

He shakes his head, “not fully. The original 8 Asteri— that is the Daglan’s true name. They pooled their power together and imbued it into the cauldron… they made the dread trove as well as Gwydion and Truth Teller.”

“Did you learn how to fix it?” Nuan asks, begging for answers just as he did that day he learned all this. “Learn why they did it?”

“No, I did, however, allow one of my shadows to go with Bryce to Midgard. The Asteri, when they were here, there was a tithe to absorb a percentage of our power; in Midgard, they created a parasite to infest the water and stifle their magic until they came of age. The coming of age ceremony was called the drop, once they partook they gave a portion of their power to the Asteri and their powers were unlocked. They were not as powerful as they could be, but they were just enough to live a long, long life. Those who didn’t partake faded away into nothing with age, like a human would.”

“And Bryce defeated them?”

He nods, “She almost died in the process… which is another way the daglan took power. The power they took in the drop was called first light, the power they take after death is called second light. Once they took it, they didn’t get to go to the forever resting place some believe is out there. They became nothing.”

Nuan slumps in her seat. Rubbing her hand over her face. “This is so much bigger than a family of trees…”

Az laughs, “believe me, it was a lot to take in when it was happening. Now, we’re left with the knowledge and no way to fix the cauldron. We don’t even know in what ways they corrupted it; what they changed.”

“The cauldron holds water,” Nuan reminds him. “They might’ve gotten the idea for the parasite from what ever they did to the cauldron.”

He hums, thinking about it. “Are you coming to dinner tonight in the great hall?”

She nods, “why?”

“Elain might be able to tell you about what the water in the cauldron was like,” he explains. “Seeing as she was the first one dunked into it, and she was blessed by it…”

“Unlike the other sister who stole from it,” Nuan knows. The whole of Prythian knew that the oldest Archeon sister was to be feared for what she did that day. They just don’t know she gave the power back.

“Would I be allowed to see the cauldron?” She asks.

He takes a deep breath, thinking it over. “Rhys and Feyre will be here in a few days, they, and Helion, can discuss if it’s a safe option for you.”

She nods, agreeing. “I appreciate the help today. I um… I figured out something, I think it’s something you and Lady Archeron would like to know.”

“Go on,” he pulls in even closer, anxious to know what she’s uncovered in her days of research.

“While Ash wood can kill us, the blooming leaves of the Ash tree can be used as a tea. The Daglan did awful, horrific experiments on the fae, all of which were recorded… ingesting the leaves doesn’t maim the drinker. Instead, it gifts them with dreams of their one true love. The Daglan put a stop to the tea the moment they found out what it could do, and now I’m guessing it’s because they corrupted the cauldron to change how bonds work. The dreams would show a true love match; the cauldron now wants powerful offspring because the Dagaln fed from them for so long.”

It all hits Azriel like a brick wall. “So if I take the tea…”

“You’ll know the truth,” Nuan smiles. “So will Lady Archeron.”

—

Feyre and Rhys arrive with Lucien right at noon, greeted by Elain and Helion in the golden courtyard. Helion’s hand is on Elain’s back, and she glances at him, noticing he’s holding his breath while staring at his son. Taking in all his features, noticing all the parts that are himself and what parts are Lucien's mother…, his heart breaks when he sees the scar on his face, knowing there are more scars he keeps inside.

“Welcome!” Elain takes over for him, breaking away from Helion to meet with him. “Lucien, it’s nice to see you.”

Surprisingly, she opens her arms and brings him in for a hug.

He’s a bit shocked, but accepts. Holding her close, smelling Azriel on her. He pulls back with concern on his face, “Did the shadowsinger fly you in?”

She shakes her head, “he’s been staying here during my training, assuring I stay safe after what happened with the cauldron the last time I started looking for answers.”

It's not a lie, just not the whole truth, either.

“In your bed?” He chuckles, “I was wondering when you’d finally get together.”

“You wouldn’t be upset about it?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t own you; you’re free to make your own choices. I’ve been alive for over 300 years; you haven’t. I’d like to see you make your own choices and mistakes and find happiness.”

She pulls him in for another hug. " Oh, Lucien, thank you! I expected you to want to follow the cauldron's orders.”

Lucien soaks in the hug, eyes closed as he holds her. “This is the one time I’m not going to blindly follow someone's orders. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“It’s also why we’re here,” Rhysand says from behind them. “We’ve learned quite a few things about the cauldron, things that you should be made aware of.”

“The uh, the dining room is all set up for lunch if you’d care to join me in there for this meeting,” Helion finally speaks. “It’s lovely to have you here, Lucien.”

He reaches out his hand for Helion, “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve always loved visiting the day court.”

They all agreed it’s completely up to Helion when he tells Lucien; if he ever tells him. This meeting is about the information Nuan found in her research, how to find one's true love and what the Daglan did to mating bonds.

They gather around the dining table and fill their plates with sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables with dips, cheeses and meats. Its a wonderful spread that his kitchen staff makes on the regular. Elain is going to have to start incorporating these into her own meal rotation at home.

“What is it you wish to tell me,” Lucien asks between bites.

Rhysand looks to Elain and then Helion, “Who would like to explain?”

“I can,” Elain assures, putting down her sandwich and taking a sip of her bubbly wine first before continuing. “Last spring, we had an unexpected visitor in the Night Court. She jumped from her world to ours thanks to the Harp— the 4th forgotten item from the dread trove.”

Lucien's eyes widened. “Is world jumping real? I thought it was a myth?”

Elain sighs, “It’s very real. You need specific items to do it the right way. However, Bryce was brought here to learn more about her heritage. She was the original Queen Theia’s long-lost ancestor… it turns out that Theia killed Fionn, took the trove and opened a portal to another world that the Daglan had overtaken after they were kicked from our world. There, Theia confirmed that the Daglan, now the Asteri, are just power-hungry monsters who feed off our power. When they were here, they used the cauldron to create deadly weapons, horrible monsters they could hunt for sport, and they corrupted the cauldron to ensure that mate bread more powerful beings they could feed off of.”

“Holy shit,” Lucien can’t believe it.

“Nuan, who fixed your eye,” Elain continues, waiting for Luciens mind to catch up, he nods. “She has been doing research for us. The wood of the ash tree is deadly for us, however the Ash tree is a cousin of the olive tree…”

She picks up an olive with her fork and eats it, “how can one thing kill us and the other be so delicious?”

“That is a fascinating question,” Feyre says under her breath.

“Nuan discovered that the Daglan discovered a tea that would allow for the taker to dream of their one true love and those who were able to could then Scry to find them,” she continues with a large smile. “Before the Daglan corrupted the bonds, all mates were assigned together for the purpose of true and happy love. They outlawed the tea because they didn’t want true love bonds anymore, they only wanted powerful offspring.”

“Are you saying we aren’t a true love bond?” Lucien clues in, shoulders slumping. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t a strong love, I just didn’t expect it to not be true love.”

Elain shakes her head, feeling sorry for having to break the news to him, “no, the Daglan would collect a tithe from us, taking 10% of our power that we willingly gave to them each year. They wanted a way to still take 10%, they just wanted a stronger 10% so they corrupted the cauldron to make mates who would produce powerful offspring that would satiate them.”

“Like my parents and Tamlin’s,” Rhysand adds. “They did not love each other; they have just been born through the generations to continue to make powerful children, even after the Daglan left.”

“How do we fix it?” Lucien asks.

“We’re still working on that,” Helion jumps in. “Elain is still learning all that she can do with her power so we can attain more answers.”

“So far, I’ve learned basic divination, meditation and relaxation, tarot, astrology, and my favourite has been numerology,” she beams at him. “When is your birthday?”

“Um, October 3rd,” he shares. “My mother tried to have all of us in the autumn.”

Helion stares at his plate, moving around his side salad and not saying anything.

“So that would make you a life path number 4,” Elain explains. “Life path number 4’s spend most of their life looking for their true identity. You find accomplishment through hard work. You have great self-discipline. 4 teaches the value of determination, effort, simplicity, and dependability.”

He nods along, slowly taking it all in. “That… that sounds right. What would someone born on January 1st be?”

“A 2,” Elain answers without missing a beat, making Helion smile.

“She is the best student I’ve ever had,” he compliments, staring right at Feyre. “I don’t want to give her back.”

“I’ll come visit you,” Elain assures him.

“What does 2 mean?” Lucien wonders, something like urgency on his tone.

“Um,” she looks to Helion for a bit of support. He nods his head slightly, reminding her that she’s got this. “the energy of 2 does not seek to control but to achieve balance. Those born on the 2 Life Path have the potential to lead the way for humanity through their refined powers of persuasion, their ability to inspire on an emotional level, and most importantly, their desire to bring equality and peace to this planet.”

Lucien blushes slightly, looking down at his plate. “She is going to change the world.”

“Who?” Feyre asks, sitting up straighter. Happy for her friend.

“Vassa,” Lucien beams. “Don’t tell her, but I’m— I think I’m falling in love with her.”

Elain places her hand on her heart, “This is wonderful news, Lucien!”

“Thank you. I’m excited to take this tea now, to see if my true love match is her… even if it isn’t, even if it was Jesminda, I still want to be with Vassa.”

“We’re still looking into her curse,” Helion assures him. “I’ll do anything I can to help you get to keep her.”

“Thank you, Helion,” Lucien smiles.

They look so similar it blows Elain’s mind. How does he not see it? It should be like looking in a mirror for him.

“The teas will be delivered to our rooms tonight,” Elain assures. “We are all taking it. Some has even been sent back to Nesta and Cassian to check. Morrigan and Amren are taking it as well.”

“What does this mean for you two?” Lucien asks Feyre and Rhys.

They look at each other and smile. Rhys is quick to hold her hand above the table, “we know the truth. This love we have between us in unbreakable.”

“I personally believe that the reason why mating has become so hard. People were shocked to find out that all 3 of us were mated so soon after becoming fae. It’s unheard of for a whole family to find a mate.” Feyre adds. “The Cauldron picked up to help it. I think the cauldron misses when it was dedicated to giving out love and life to these lands.”

“So we bring it back,” Helion announces, holding up his glass. “No matter what it takes, we bring true love back to Prythian.”

Everyone raises their glasses in response, dedicated to the task at hand.

—

That night she sits in bed beside Azriel, a mug of steaming tea in both of their hands. “Are you sure?” She asks.

“I want to know… even if it’s not you; even if I’m meant for no one, I want to know and love you anyway,” Azriel assures.

“And if we do dream of each other?”

Azriel’s eyes soften; he’s more beautiful than ever before. “Then we’ll know why we’ve wanted one another so badly.”

“Do you think this tea will make us tired or just aid in our dreams when we do fall asleep?” She asks.

A knowing smirk grows on his face, “Why?”

She takes another sip and places her almost empty cup on her night table; Azriel follows her lead and does the same. She quickly straddles his hips, hands on his shoulders, “because I would like to remind you just how badly I’ve wanted you all this time.”

—

Elain and Azriel are the last to arrive at the breakfast table the nest morning. Hand in hand, matching smiles plastered to their faces.

They dreamt of each other last night.

Feyre is sitting in Rhys’ lap, being hand-fed cantaloupe while Lucien laughs. Helion shakes his head with a smile. "Well, I take it you had good dreams?” the golden High Lord asks.

Elain nods, “We had the same dream… us and our daughter playing in the grass behind our home on the Sidra.”

Feyre places a hand to her heart, “the same girl you’ve seen before?”

“You’ve seen her before?” Azriel can’t believe it.

Elain nods, “We adopt her from Illyria, seeing as I can’t have babies for us.”

Azriel kisses her head, “we’ll create the family we deserve.”

They take a seat side by side, across from Lucien, “So, what did you dream of?”

“Fire,” Lucien explains, smile building. “Blinding, bright fire that took over all my senses.”

“Your firebird,” Feyre swoons.

He nods, overjoyed with love in his eyes, “My firebird… Helion, who did you see?”

He takes a deep breath, thinking it over. “I saw my mate… Seraphina.”

“That’s my… mother’s—“ Lucien blinks in understanding. “What?”

Helion simply nods. “I met her a year before she was betrothed to Beron. We met again during the great war, and… we had a love affair that lasted over a hundred years. Beron never knew, not until the end, when she became pregnant.”

Lucien's mechanical eye closes in on Helion, studying him. “You’re… my father?”

Helion nods. “I didn’t know. Not until last week.”

“Does my— does Beron know?”

Helion shrugs, “I’m not certain. However, his level of cruelty to you, from what I’ve heard, could be explained by knowing you’re not his blood.”

“Then where does—

“Your mother was sold to your father to ensure that the fire in her veins passed on to all his children. He wanted the strongest brood and would do anything to get it.”

“Why didn’t you do anything about it? Why didn’t you challenge him?” Lucien begs, “You know he hurts her, and you do nothing?”

“What do you do?” Helion challenges him right back. “Beron is not a man I would like to mess with unless absolutely necessary. Your mother asked me not to intervene. She asked me to let nature take its course, and she said when the time was right when he died, she could come back to me.”

Lucien just shakes his head, “I wish he would die tomorrow.”

“We all do,” Rhys murmurs, reminding the men that there are others in the room, still.

Lucien calms, shaking his head as it all settles around him. “So I’m… I’m heir to the day court?”

Helion nods, “you are… I’ve heard your fire is bright, almost white. That you can winnow and you run like the wind. I wonder if there’s more light to you, if when you become truly happy... if you’ll glow like myself and Feyre do.”

“I’ve…. I’ve glowed,” Lucien admits. “I thought it was… I’m not sure what it was.”

Clearly lying, he doesn’t seem comfortable enough to share.

“How about we leave you two,” Elain announces, standing with her plate now filled with food. “My chambers have a sitting room; we can move there. Let them bond.”

“Fantastic idea,” feyre is quick to her feet, feeling just as awkward as everyone else. “I’d love to hear more about your dreams.”

@greenleaf777 @lostvillainess

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@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 month

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Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 18

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: E Chapter warnings: Flashback-It's getting even hotter in here. There's a nipple! The flashback is sexy but hardly crossing to rated M. AN: Kit exists still. Yay? Can you believe Book One is about halfway done?!

Masterlist Kofi

~~~~~<3

It was nice having him back. She had missed him. More than she had thought she did. More than she expected.

That was something she needed to tell him today. It was terrifying to consider admitting it to him though. It felt like if she told him, it would give him some sort of power over her.

Was that safe? Was it so bad if it wasn’t?

“Tom?” Her voice was strangled, weak and oh how she hated it. He didn’t answer, probably didn’t hear her as he organized socks and folded underwear neatly.

Mia was about to call out for him again, stronger she hoped but he called for her first. “How do you feel about travel?”

“What?” The question was random.

“You and Sally- do you two travel often?” Tom leaned back, looking out of the closet at her from where he sat on the floor before unfolding himself and standing to move a few more things around.

“No?” She stretched the word out. “Sally hasn’t even been outside of the city.”

“Why not?” Tom stood back, admiring his little piece of space. He had a space in this home now and turning that idea around in his mind tickled him, bringing a smile to his lips that quickly faded when Mia sighed, drawing his eyes to her.

“I haven’t exactly had the time.” As Tom made his way out of the closet and toward the bed, questions were clear on his face. “I’m lucky if I get two weeks of paid time off a year.”

“But for holidays?” He took his time approaching her.

“I work in a casino.” Mia laughed though bitterness tinged it. “I don’t get any holidays. I get 80 hours of paid time off and have to hope I get a few days left over to use for fun toward the end of the year after all the time off one of us being sick.”

“80 hours?” Tom knew Americans tended to take less time off than was healthy or normal, in his opinion, but that was not much at all. If they typically work 8 hour days and five day work weeks, that meant they only took an average of - “That’s two weeks? And you have to use it for sick leave too?”

“Yep.” Mia didn’t like how this conversation felt. “That’s normal.”

“That is not normal.”

“What’s normal to you?” It was easy to think they were the same, once she ignored the financial differences between them but it hadn’t occurred to her in the slightest that the cultural differences would potentially be fundamental.

“Like six weeks once all’s said and done.”

“That’s so long!” No wonder there were so many international guests at the resorts. They had time to travel around the world. “What do people even do with all that time?”

“We live,” Tom sat on the bed next to her. She was sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed -their bed. He was so close that her knee brushed against his thigh. “I can’t imagine having so much less.”

“We make the best of it.” Mia shrugged. “It’s not like wishing for more will make it change. And most of us can’t afford to take unpaid time off anyway.”

“If that wasn’t a factor, what would you like to do?”

This conversation felt more intimate than those they’d had before. This was personal and while they sometimes had deeper conversations on the phone, it felt different having him there with her.

“I don’t know.” Mia leaned back on her hands, stretching her abdomen and trying to remind herself to stop slouching. “Travel maybe. This is all I’ve ever known, working. I can’t really picture anything different.”

“Would you want to go to London?” The question was out of his mouth before he had a chance to consider if he was pushing too much. It had caught her off guard too.

“Sure.” She said after a moment of thinking. “If I could ever manage the time off. I’d have to get a passport and figure out time off and how to afford it. It would be a whole thing.”

“You don’t have a passport?” Tom had always assumed most people had passports in America. It was certainly true of his home.

“Nope,” Mia chuckled. “I never really thought we would need them. It’s not like I’m leaving the country any time soon.”

Tom rested his hand on her thigh, bringing her eyes to his. “You’re in a international marriage now.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Mia, there’s times where it may be advantageous for you to travel with me in the next year.”

“For your career?” Mia didn’t know what she was expecting but she had hoped it was something different, something more.

He realized he went the wrong route. It would take time to learn how they each communicated and avoid eachother’s landmines.

“No! No. I just-” Tom decided to restart. “I told my mum about you. I- she’d like to meet you.”

“Oh, does she know? Like, the real story?” Mia didn’t push his hand off her.

Tom laughed, “Yes, and she’d like to meet you.”

“Is that a good ‘she wants to meet you’ or a bad ‘she wants to meet you’?”

“The good one.” The idea hadn’t occurred to him but Tom was flying by the seat of his pants. This seemed to be how he made the best choices anyway. “Mia, I’ve got a trip back home- London home, coming up in a few weeks.”

She knew that, they had talked about that before he had left but still, it made her sad. He had just gotten there and he was going to be leaving her again. These were things that were scheduled before he had even known her, let alone married her though. Had she any right to be sad?

He had to go back home, just as he said. Las Vegas wouldn’t ever be home for him, she was sure of that. There wasn’t a lot of acting that happened in Las Vegas and surely he would need to act again. He had to work and live his life still.

“I know,” She said after a long pause. “You can’t stay here forever. You’ve got family, friends and work that you’ve got to take care of.”

“You’re family now.” Tom pressed, fingers flexing against the soft of her thigh in a firm grip that lasted for only a second. “Both you and Sally. I would like for you to come with me.”

“I can’t.” Mia’s heart sank. “Tom, I-”

“I know, I know.” Tom sighed, withdrawing his hand. “But I would like it if you could. If by any chance you could take the time off-”

“I can’t.” Mia interrupted.

“Hypothetically.” Tom continued talking over her, “How long would it take to get passports?”

“A few weeks or so? Maybe a few months. Our government doesn’t move fast.”

Tom’s shoulders slumped. Even if he could convince her to trust him with everything, including her financial ability to survive totally, she wouldn’t be able to go with. Oh well, it had been worth a thought. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to introduce his little American family to his home until the idea had formulated.

“Would you consider getting them?”

“I guess,” She still wasn’t sold on the fact that they would need them. She couldn’t imagine needing them or having the ability to take the time off to make use of them. “It would be nice to have the option to go if things ever lined up.”

“Thank you.” Tom reached for her hand, weaving his fingers between hers before pulling her hand up to his lips to leave a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“Why do you do that?” She hadn’t meant to ask.

“Because I want to?” Worry flashed across his face. Had he offended her? “Is that alright?”

“People don’t do things like that.” Mia quickly stood up but his hand on hers kept her from escaping into the living room.

“They do if they care.” Tom’s voice was soft and firm, something she would struggle with trying to describe to Ashley later. “And I care.”

Tom left her standing there, stunned by the admission. Here she was, struggling all morning to try and find a way to tell him that she missed him and was glad he had returned. But he just threw out an admission like that as if it was nothing when if he had meant it, it could be everything.

He had managed to say those things quickly and easily. It was effortless for him to simply say he cared. Small affections came easily from him. If he kept that up, she was in danger of really falling beyond the point of return.

Was that his goal? Was he being honest? Acting in good faith? Did he really care or was he pretending, hoping that if he pretended long enough the feelings would become real?

Was she worrying about it too much? What if he felt exactly as he said? What if she really did fall in love with him? What if? What if?

What if?

~~~~~<3

Tom was lounging on the couch, his phone in hand when she joined him fifteen or so minutes later. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable one in the world. Part of her wished she had not been so stubborn and gotten one from a nicer store but oh well, what’s done was done.

Tom didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t commented on the comfort level of the couch. Mia did feel a little bad about how poorly he fit on the couch though, seeing him overflowing off it. He was simply so tall and lanky that he didn’t fit well.

Glancing up, he smiled at her as she sat down. Sally sat on the floor in front of the couch introducing her newest bear to her other stuffed animals all lined up sitting behind a small army of cardboard desks.

“She’s holding class.” Tom informed her with an amused smile.

“Ah, a regular activity.” Mia grabbed her book and fidgeted with it. When they were comfortable with eachother, it was wonderful but it was finding those moments that Mia still struggled with. Tom seemed to fit right in and that terrified her.

“I’ve got a script to pick up in London.” Tom locked his phone at set it on the arm of the couch.

“What for?”

“Another Marvel project.”

“Do you like it?” She wasn’t sure what exactly she was trying to ask.

“The character?” Tom smiled warmly, turning to face her more. “Very much so, yes. He’s very Shakespearean and there’s much depth and complexity to still explore with him.”

“It sounded like you did in interviews.” She said before thinking.

“You watched my interviews?” Tom’s eyebrow rose and she realized they never were quite level.

“I mean, I- a few clips, here and there. I just-” Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down and breathe. What did she have to be embarrassed by? “I wanted to get to know you more.”

“Ah.” The answer didn’t seem to disappoint him though he didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. The soft smile on his face said plenty for him.

“And I missed you.” Finally, she said it. It felt good to say it. It needed to be said. He deserved to hear it. They deserved for it to be said.

Warm fingers thread through her’s. When her eyes met his, he squeezed her hand with a smile. “I’m glad it wasn’t just me.”

~~~~~<3~~~~~~<3

Tom gripped her ass under the skirt of her dress. The silky panties she wore were smooth under his hands but not nearly as smooth as her skin would be. He wanted to tease her and savor her but with how much he had drank, he feared quicker would be better.

Fingers struggled with buttons. It felt like the back of the dress was fastened with every possible fastening at the same time, designed by the devil to hamper men from sealing the marriage. He would swear he felt cords and buttons and a zipper track. What he wanted was the dress off of her.

“Sorry, Darling.” Tom mumbled the words into the swell of her breast he had been kissing.

With both hands, he ripped the back open. It was harder than he expected, taking a few yanks to rip the fabric to the small of her back. with the tension that had been holding her breasts in place gone, they sank slightly into a more relaxed, natural position.

Mia was self conscious for a moment. Her body had been through stresses and showed the wear from a life lived. Though she had never been uncomfortable with the size of her breasts, she knew they lacked the fullness of many women in their twenties.

Her breasts were natural and that excited him. Pulling the bodice down, he was rewarded for his efforts with a warm palmful of soft flesh. He took a pink nipple in his mouth and ran his tongue over the nub.

He needed her and he needed her now.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing @evedia

#Tom hiddleston x original character #Tom hiddleston x ofc #Tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom hiddleston x reader

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punks-never-die205 · 20 days

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Hey 😊, thanks alot. I really enjoy reading your answers. They're so much fun. 🥰😁 A very different question: would you tell us sth about yourself? I mean your age, your profession (are you a professional writer would interest me) for example and how you get to like the Kid Pirates so much. 😊

Awww how sweet, sure anon - I’m pretty open about my age on my main blog, which is linked in the pinned post for this, so I don’t mind sharing some stuff.

I am an Ancient Internet Being - I was a netizen in 1993, when my dad got a home computer for me for Christmas. AOL was the new big deal, and yeah. It was a time.

Anyway, I was 12 then and I’m 42 now - gonna have a big birthday request bash again this year on the main blog to celebrate hitting 43 this July. (I celebrate my age without shame because “old” is a privilege and I look forward to actually getting there in 20 years)

By day I’m a mild-mannered pun slinging tech liaison of sorts for my team. I do a lot of translating between IT and Business, and I do some tech work too. I have down time at work cause when things compile or meetings stall out there’s not much else to do.

I’m a rock star though, by my boss’ own admission, so I have the great luck of not being stressed and being able to write a bit during work.

I was once a professional writer, but that was… not my best time, honestly. I’m not cut out for it xD I’d rather write fanfic honestly, or do a re-write of my OG story and have it be what I wanted.

Fun fact, I guess, I don’t have a degree of any kind. I was working toward a criminal psychology degree out of high school, dropped out, worked, went back to college to get an IT degree - ended up with cancer, withdrew and spent all my college savings money on surgery instead of school and ended up finding a solid job.

Went back to college a THIRD time, had a 4.0, was rocking being on the dean’s list and then work changed our hours, and I had to withdraw again. (I had 12 credit hours and was working 56 hours a week - don’t do that. It’s fucking nuts.)

Just wasn’t in the cards.

I almost got denied a job because the hiring manager thought no degree meant I wouldn’t be able to compose emails, despite two published books….

But things are good now \o/

Oh! And the Eustass Kid - ah I got into OP April 2022 (my return to fan fic was October 2022 \o/ ) and fell in love with the entire show. My focus moved from Luffy to Zoro to Law at Shabody.

Sir Crocodile coming back in at Marineford got my full and undivided attention, but then I read a reader insert story with Kid in it. Went back and rewatched scenes for him and really paid attention and was hooked.

I loved everything alluded to about him, the personality, the view point he had. Post time skip he bulked out and that voice just grabbed me by the throat.

I couldn’t ignore him xD

Marco, Kid, Crocodile we’re pretty much it, but I love writing so many characters 😄 hell I have like 8 sideblogs to keep all the stories organized.

Kid is a beast of a character though, and I love him, and then I met people because of that and that love grew. Seriously Check out @swampstew - she’s passionate about the crew even more than me and I love what she writes.

@wyvernslovecake has an amazingly cute OC for the crew and lots of stuff about them.

I could list a dozen more, but you asked about me so I’ll reign it in for now. 🥰

#eustass kid #quin answers #side blog #anon asks #on a personal note

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

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DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Animate Tokuten Drama CD ”The Contest is the Smell of Money!? ~The Vampires’ Desire~”

Original title: コンクールはお金の香り!?～ヴァンパイアたちの欲望

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Animate Tokuten Drama CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Midorikawa Hikaru, Takahiro Sakurai, Kimura Ryouhei & Morikawa Toshiyuki

Translator’s note: Once again, the Vampires prove that they are more human than anyone else because their number one motivator in life is...sweet, sweet money. xD They’re all so thirsty for cash 99% of the time, it’s honestly hilarious. I wonder what else you could push them to do, just because there’s a large amount of prize money on the line. The climax of this CD kind of caught me off guard because I expected they would just royally fuck up on the day of the concert but no...They never even got to enter lol. Great move by the MC. They don’t really hint at what her explanation for not submitting the application on time was, but I want to believe that she did it on purpose to get revenge for all the times they treated her like trash. You go girl.

*Rustle*

Ayato: Haah…God…The fuck is this? And here I thought I’d head straight home to pick on Chichinashi…Oi, you. Have you heard anythin’ ‘bout what’s goin’ on?

*Flip*

Ruki: Hm…

Ayato: Oi, bastard! You’re just gonna ignore me, huh!?

Ruki: Was my lack of a response not clear enough of an answer?

Ayato: Aah…!?

Ruki: Haah…

Ruki closes his book.

Ruki: I haven’t heard anything. Now relax. I am sure we will find out sooner or later.

Ayato: But you know…Whoever decided to gather this group of people here must be fuckin’ bonkers. I feel like we’re bein’ set up for some weird shit.

*Rustle*

Kou: Well…I guess I can’t blame you for feeling that way…

Carla: Heh…

Ayato: Anyway, how come you’re here as well, Carla? I can’t imagine you’d actually show up under normal circumstances.

Carla: Is my appearance truly that puzzling?

Ruki: Well, I do believe you must have a solid reason for doing so.

Kou: I mean, Mr. ‘Almighty Founder’ doesn’t even show up for class usually, does he~?

Carla: I had nothing better to do, that is all.

Ayato: Smells fishy.

Kou: Right? I can only imagine you have some kind of ulterior motive.

Carla: You fiends…Who do you think you are talking to…?

Ayato: Hah!? You wanna throw down!? Fine, I accept your challenge!

Reiji: Come on now, everyone. Please stop getting up in each other’s faces like that.

Ruki: Hm? This voice is…?

Reiji enters the room.

*Rattle*

Ayato: Reiji…? Don’t tell me you’re the one who…?

Reiji: I had no other choice. Otherwise you lot would have never shown up.

Carla: Oi, you. You are the one who summoned me here. So it must be safe to assume that you had a good reason for doing so?

Reiji: You are rather impatient, are you not? I shall explain shortly, so please wait a few more minutes.　ーー For starters, I would like all of you to take a look at this.

Reiji starts distributing flyers.

*Flip*

Carla: …Hm? …This isーー!?

Ruki: Could it be…?

Ayato: Haah!? A music competition!?

Reiji: Exactly. We will participate in it.

Kou: Eh? You’re joking, right?

Reiji: No, I am dead serious.

Ayato: …!? Are you out of your mind!? You want to sign up with the people gathered here?

Reiji: Yes. I have carefully selected a group of people who would aim for victory.

Ruki: I see…You are after the prize money, correct?

Kou: Hm? What do you mean?

Carla: Take a good look at the flyer. Especially at the part about the prize.

*Flip*

Ayato: …!? For real…!? The winner gets…ten thousand dollars!? (1)

Kou: No way!?

Ruki: It must be a print mistake of some sorts, right?

Shuu: Sounds too suspicious.

Reiji: Oh my, Shuu. Seems like someone has finally woken up.

Shuu: You really think I could sleep with you guys making such a fuss?

Reiji: I believe it is more likely that it was the prize money which caught your attention…But oh well. Ahem. I have already contacted the organizers about it. It would appear that our school would like to shift their focus on attracting promising artists, so to catch the attention of potential stars from all across the country, they have chosen to attach a bountiful prize to the contest.

Kou: I see. I expected no less from Reiji-kun! Nothing gets past you.

Reiji: Of course not. …So, what will you do?

Ayato: What do you mean? Are you askin’ us whether we’ll participate or not?

Reiji: Yes…According to my data, the people I have gathered here have the highest chance at success.

Shuu: And how exactly? We’re the only ones who have any sort of musical talent, right?

Kou: Excuse me!? I have published my own CDs, you know!?

Shuu: Those are not even worth mentioning.

Kou: Haah!?

Shuu: I mean, think about it. We’re joining a musical competition, not some kind of concert. Unless you’ve actually taken proper vocal music classes?

Reiji: Shuu…It would appear to me that you don’t understand the true meaning of a contest.

Shuu: What do you mean?

Reiji: In a contest, the winner is decided by the judges’ votes. In other words…By people.

Ruki: I see. So appearance is an important factor as well.

Reiji: Exactly. I am glad you are quick to understand.

Kou: In other words…Since I’m a good-looking idol, it’s possible that I could appeal to the judges?

Ruki: Exactly. Humans are so easily won over by appearance. It is possible they will let you get away with making some mistakes because your looks make up for it.

Kou: Ruki-kun, how mean…That doesn’t make me happy at all.

Shuu: Then what about the other two guys? Ayato most likely has zero experience with music whatsoever, and I can’t imagine old man Carla (2) over there playing music either.

Carla: You fiends…You really do not hold back at all, do you? Calling me elderly, a fossil or even an old woman!

Kou: Wait, nobody ever called you an old woman, did they?

Ayato: I actually took violin lessons many, many years ago!

Reiji: Exactly. I remember.

Shuu: Are you talking about when aunt Cordelia forced him to start taking classes in hopes of competing against us?

Ruki: Heeh…The eldest triplet plays the violin, huh? That’s new information to me.

Shuu: If I recall correctly…He gave up after just one week and smashed his instrument.

Ayato: Just so you know, that wasn’t my fault!

Shuu: Hm?

Ayato: That hysteric old hag destroyed it during one of her crazy moments. I mean, I was glad that I didn’t have to bother with those lessons anymore.

Shuu: …I guess destroying violins was her thing, huh?

Reiji: …W-Well…Anyway! He isn’t a complete amateur when it comes to music, so his chances are somewhat higher than any of the other guys. …And you, Carla, you are none other than a Founder, aren’t you?

Carla: …!

Reiji: The cream of the crop of all Demons…A First Blood. Therefore I believe it is only safe to assume that you would have no issues mastering music, a human invention?

Carla: W-Well…

Ruki: I guess it might be tricky after all?

Carla: A-As if…! I am a First Blood! A Founder! There is nothing I cannot do!

*Clap clap clap*

Reiji: A true Founder!

Shuu: …I wonder.

Reiji: That being said, what will you all do? Will you participate?

Ruki: I would like to ask one question. I assume that we will be splitting the prize money even amongst all participants?

Reiji: Hm? Of course.

Ruki: In that case, I’m in. Kou as well.

Kou: Eh!? Excuse me!? Why!?

Ruki: Don’t play dumb now. Whose fault do you think it is that we have to be so careful with our spendings?

Kou: …!? W-Well…

Ruki: It is your fault for being such an impulsive buyer. Isn’t that right?

Kou: Nnー...

Ayato: …I don’t want to! Joining a contest sounds like a big pain in the ass.

Reiji: Hooh? Is that so? What a shame…If you were to win, then the ‘takoyaki pool’ you have dreamt of for years might just be able to become reality.

Ayato: …!?

Shuu: I’m skipping out as well. It’s obviously too much trouble.

Reiji: Oh dear, is that so? I mean, I personally don’t mind since the less people participate, the less people we have to split the money between. …You might just be able to buy the antique gramophone you’ve been wanting so badly though.

Shuu: …!?

Reiji: Ah, right, right! The jamon iberico you love so much, Carla, you should be able to purchase a few logs of it with the prize money.

Carla: …!! You shall not bribe me with such a thing!!

Reiji: Ahaha. Of course not. You are a lofty Founder after all. You must not let yourself be won over by money, correct?

Carla: Exactly!

Reiji: However…It truly is a shame, isn’t it? It would be such a perfect opportunity to get an entire log of the finest quality jamon iberico. That vaguely nutty flavor spreading inside your mouth…growing stronger and stronger as you chew. Seasoned to perfection.

Carla: …Ah…

Reiji: I suppose you three do not want any of those things. It is a shame, truly.

Ayato, Shuu & Carla: …

Ayato: G-Guess I have no other choice…If you insist…I suppose I do have some free time on my hands anyway.

Shuu: I had been thinking it was about time I picked up the violin again…I guess this is the perfect opportunity.

Reiji: Oh my, is that so? I am glad.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Then, what about you, Carla?

Carla: Hm…I shall help you out. It is one of my many duties as a Founder to show compassion towards the lower masses after all.

Reiji: I see. I am terribly grateful for that.

Ruki: Seems like we’ve come to a conclusion. In that case, we should apply at once. I shall head to the agency at oーー

Reiji: Ah! About that, I suggest we leave that up to her. She does not seem to have anything better to do after all.

Ruki: Hm. I understand. Let us start practicing at once then. Time is money. If we want to aim for victory, then we have no other choice but to practice as much as we can.

Kou: But what exactly will we do with our group? We can’t pull off an orchestra, can we?

Reiji: Please do not worry about that. I have come with a plan. We will participate in two groups of three members each.

Ruki: I see. To get as much out of it as we can, correct?

Carla: What do you mean?

*Flip*

Ruki: According to this flyer, a prize will be awarded to both first and second place. If we participate in two groups and get both prizes…

Reiji: The combined prize money would be fifteen million yen. Split amongst us six, it means each of us would get a total of two million fifty thousand yen.

Ayato: Woah…! Amazing!

Reiji: Right? As for the groups…I suggest Kou, Carla and myself as one group and Shuu, Ayato and Ruki as the other, effectively splitting up Shuu and myself as we have the most experience with music.

Ruki: I believe those are well-balanced groups.

Reiji: Why of course. I put them together based on precise, evidence-based data after all.

*Rattle*

Kou: Ah! M-neko-chan~!

Ayato: Chichinashi!

Reiji: Oh dear, what’s the matter? Is there something you need?

You explain.

Reiji: I see. You came to check up on us? Well, I suppose you would find it intriguing why the teacher would lend us the music classroom and its instruments.

Ayato: Perfect timing! Chichinashi, you should join our team!

*Rustle*

Kou: Eh? Hold up! M-neko-chan is coming this way…She’s joining our group!

Ayato: Haah!? Excuse me!?

*Clap clap clap*

Reiji: Stop right there, no fighting! While we may have split up in two groups, we are still on the same team.

Ruki: Exactly. Now is not the time to have a fall-out. …Oi, Livestock. You shall listen to our performance as we practice and act as our advisor.

Shuu: Well, I guess we need someone who can give us some objective input. Let’s not question whether or not she’s the right person to do so though…

Reiji: Ahem. Well then, I suppose we should discuss within our teams who will play which instrument first.

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle*

Reiji: Well then…As for our team, I believe it makes most sense to start by asking which instrument each of you feels most comfortable with and then we can decide on our line-up based on that.

Kou: Hm…Why not? Seems like the most logical solution.

Carla: I am a Founder. You can assign me any instrument you like.

Reiji: What…do you mean by that?

Carla: That I can play each one with ease.

Kou: Really!?

Carla: Why would I lie about such a thing?

Reiji: I see. I suppose you were not simply bluffing earlier. In which case, I shall randomly assign you an instrument…Kou, what about you?

Kou: Um…I could probably handle the end-blow flute, the triangle, the tambourine…

Reiji: Any string or wind instruments?

Kou: Hm… For percussion instruments, maybe the djembe, ngoma? (3)

Carla: What are those?

Kou: They’re African instruments! The locals taught me how to play them when I visited the area during one of my on location photo shoots.

Reiji: Those are some awfully niche choices…As an idol, are you not capable of playing any instruments with a little more flair? Like the piano or the flute?

Kou: Hmー I can play some simple tunes with one hand on the piano…

Reiji: That simply won’t do…

Carla: I mean, we do not actually need to play for real, do we?

Kou: Huh? What do you mean?

Carla: All you need to do is pretend to be playing. Say we go for a violin trio, then only Reiji and myself need to be able to actually play the instrument.

Reiji: I see. I suppose we have that option as well.

Carla: Exactly. One cannot get delicious cured ham by only playing fair.

Reiji: Exactly. …Nor will I be able to get my hands on that high-tech built-in kitchen…

Kou: Huh? Did you say something just now?

Reiji: No, not at all.

You try to convince them to keep things fair.

Carla: Excuse me? Did you say something just now?

Reiji: Hmー Well…I suppose it is true that we risk losing our prize money if they find out that we cheated.

Kou: I’ll do the vocals instead then! Although I haven’t actually ever taken proper singing classes like Shuu-kun mentioned either.

Reiji: That sounds good. Let us go with that. You should not have any complaints then either, correct?

You nod.

Reiji: Well then. From the various scores I have brought with me…

*Flip flip*

Reiji: This one should work. Let us practice this for about an hour and then we can try to put everything together.

Carla: I can go right here, right now.

Reiji: Oh, come on. At least check the score first.

Carla: Hmph.

You start walking away.

Carla: Oi, you. Where are you going?

You explain.

Carla: Ah…You want to go check up on the other group? …Well, I am somewhat curious as well. Now that I have decided I will participate, I definitely do not want to lose to them.

Kou: Eeh~? We don’t really need to compete amongst each other, right? As long as one of our groups wins, we’ll split the prize money anyway.

Carla: That is not my style.

Reiji: Hm…I guess you have a point. I believe it only makes sense to want to aim for first place with our group.

Kou: Hm…Well, I guess being ‘first’ sounds kind of nice.

Carla: Oi, woman. You heard us. I shall allow you to investigate the other group. Once you are done, I expect you to report back to me at once. Understood?

Kou: M-neko-chan, we’re counting on you~! Off you go~!

You head towards the other group.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Well then…About our group…The two of you don’t need to do anything. Or rather, please don’t.

Ayato: Aah!? The fuck!? What do you mean!?

Shuu: I don’t want you two to hold me back.

Ayato: That tone of yours is really pissin’ me off. You usually don’t give a shit ‘bout anythin’, so what makes today different?

Shuu: My gramophone is on the line here…Besides, music is kind of dear to me. Oh well, my reasoning doesn't matter. Anyway, it’d obviously be better for me to perform a solo act than to try and force some weird instrumental trio.

Ayato: Look who’s talking when you haven’t even heard me perform yet!

Shuu: I’m saying this because I unfortunate have heard you play.

Ayato: Ah!? For real!?

Shuu: Back in the past, I thought some idiot was playing around by opening and closing some rusty, old door of our castle, when it turned out the sound was coming from you playing the violin.

Ayato: …!!

Shuu: Besides, you haven’t touched the violin in years, have you?

Ayato: W-Well…

Shuu: I’m spot on, aren’t I? …As for you, Ruki, I’m pretty sure you grew up in an environment where music was the least of your worries?

Ruki: It appears you have quite the faulty image of me. I was actually rather good at playing the violin.

Shuu: Heeh…That’s surprising. In that case…Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?

*Rustle*

Shuu grabs one of the violins and plays a bit.

Shuu: …You can choose any song you want, try and play a bit.

Ruki: Very well.

Ruki plays the violin as well.

Ruki: …As easy as pie.

Ayato: …Kuh!

Shuu: …Heeh. You’re not half bad.

Ruki: What do you think? I bet you wouldn’t mind letting me join the performance now?

Shuu: I mean, I have to admit that you are miles above Ayato in terms of skill.

Ayato: Ugh…Fuck off! Do you really have to put it like that!? I can easily pull that off as well!

Ayato grabs the violin.

Ayato: Gimme that!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Now listen closely, ‘kay? ーー Kuh!

Ayato plays the violin badly.

Ruki: Ugh…What a disaster…

Shuu: Kuh…Cut it out! You’re making my ears bleed!

Ayato: …Huh? That’s weird…? Fuck! One more try!

*Rustle*

He plays just as badly.

Shuu: …Enough!

Shuu steals the violin from him as you walk up to them.

Ruki: …Hm? Oh, it’s you, Livestock. Why do you look terrified?

You explain.

Shuu: Hm? Screams? Ahー That was Ayato playing the violin. You’re not wrong to compare it to someone screeching.

Ayato: Chichinashi, you bitch…!

Ruki: Well, I guess you realize why you have to give up now?

Shuu: Just pretend you are playing instead.

You protest.

Shuu: …I know you’re against cheating but you heard his performance earlier, didn’t you?

You offer for Ayato to sing instead.

Ruki: Kou will be singing for the other group? Which means…

Shuu: Vocals, huh?

Ayato: …I just gotta sing, right!?

Shuu: Guess we have no other choice. Let’s go with that.

Ayato: I’ll blow your socks off with my beautiful voice!

Shuu: Anyway, you got a feel of what the other group’s doing, right? How are things coming together?

You explain.

Ruki: I see. The other group as well. I cannot wait to show them what we’ve got.

Ayato: I mean, as long as we do a half-decent job, we shouldn’t lose to them, right?

Shuu: Anyway, we should probably get some practice in as well and then come back together after an hour.

Ruki: Agreed.

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji: Well then, we should probably show each other what we’ve got so far.

Ruki: We just gathered together again. I believe your group did as well?

Reiji: Yes, exactly. …You seem very well informed.

Carla: You must have a lot of time on hand to eavesdrop on our group from the shadows.

Shuu: She’s the one who informed you guys as well, right? We’re in the same boat then.

Carla & Reiji: …!!

Kou: Why are you guys being so competitive towards each other when we’re all working towards the same goal…? I mean, whatever. Anyway, let’s just get to it. This isn’t the real deal yet. We’re only practicing.

Ruki: Even so, we still have to try our best.

Reiji: Exactly. Well then, how will we go about this? I believe this is the prime opportunity to decide which one of our groups is superior in terms of skill.

Carla: Fufufu…I shall show you something truly breathtaking!

Kou: Uwah~ It’s no use. His switch got flipped.

Carla: Oi, woman! You shall judge who is the superior group, understood?

Ayato: Hey, bastard! Don’t be threatenin’ Chichinashi now! She’s gonna get scared and favor you guys as a result!

Carla: I am not intimidating her in the slightest. Once you hear our performance, it will be clear that we will come out victorious. …Oi, Four-Eyes. Let us begin.

Reiji: …’Four-Eyes’, could you be referring to me, by any chance?

Carla: You are the only one here wearing glasses, are you not?

*Rustle*

Reiji: …I am rather displeased by that remark.

Kou: Let’s get this party started~! …Ah, by the way, you’ll have to wait to hear me sing until the actual performance day~

*Rustle*

Reiji and Carla start playing the violin.

Shuu: They’re not bad…

Ruki: No, wait…Take a look at Carla.

Carla: Haah…

Ayato: Haah?

Kou: Eh!? The bow’s moving by itself…!? Could it be…?

Ruki: It’s magic! He’s using his magic to play the violin…!

Shuu: Haah…

Carla: Phew…There you go, I did not even break a sweat.

Reiji: Hahaha…First place is as good as ours. …Right? Hey, you!

*Bzz bzzt*

Reiji: …!? E-Excuse me!?

Carla: Do you have a problem with our performance!?

Kou: I mean, you can hardly blame her. Any normal person would be in shock after seeing that performance from earlier.

Reiji: …! Carla! This would not be an issue if you would simply use your hands as you play!

Carla: T-That’s…

Reiji: Hm? Don’t tell me…You cannot?

Carla: …!!

Shuu: Fufu…Hilarious.

Ayato: This competition is ours!

You point out that they have yet to play.

Ayato: …Ah? I mean, sure, we haven’t performed yet, but it’s so obvious.

Ruki: I mean, why not give them a listen?

Shuu: Haah…It’s a drag but I guess we have no other choice. I’m sure they’ll admit defeat after hearing us play.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Anyway, for now, we’ll let you hear the violin part. Let’s go.

Shuu and Ruki start playing.

Carla & Reiji: …!!

Ayato: Hehe! How’s that? Pissin’ your pants?

Kou: Both of them are actually using their hands to play! I had no idea Ruki-kun was gifted at the violin!

Reiji: …!! …This is rather infuriating.

False notes start mixing in.

Reiji: Hm? …T-This is…!!

Carla: What is going on…!?

Kou: Aah! Ow! What a horrible noise…Stop! Time out!!

Shuu: …!! Oi, Ruki! What was that just now!?

Ruki: What do you mean? I played the violin.

Kou: We know that! You started off great but then it all went downhill halfway through!?

Ruki: Ah, about that. Oh well, do not let that bother you.

Reiji: How are we supposed to do that!?

Ruki: It’s the first few notes which truly matter. In short, as long as I can make a good first impression, the tone has already been set for an amazing piece.

Shuu: Haah…In other words, you can only play well for a couple of seconds?

Carla: Hahaha! I guess that means we have won.

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! What’s the verdict of this competition?

You frown.

Kou: I’m pretty sure both groups had issues of our own? …But I doubt these guys will let this pass without there being a clear winner.

The other guys act competitive towards each other.

Kou: Hm? What was that? We should wait for a winner to be declared until the day of the actual competition? Makes sense. It’s not like there’s any point in fighting over it right now.

Shuu: Oi, Ruki. I expect you to master the rest of the score by then.

Reiji: Carla! You should learn to play with your hands as well! Come on, start practicing at once!

Ayato: …Seems like those two got stuck in between Shuu and Reiji’s personal conflict.

Kou: Oh well, whatever. All that matters is that we get our hands on those ten million yen by winning both first and second prize! We better give it our best shot.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ( ーー And so, we continued to practice playing the violin from dusk till dawn for days on end. )

Carla: ( It was more challenging and daunting than any task I had faced in the past. )

Reiji: ( All I want is to surpass Shuu’s team! )

Shuu: ( I became more serious about honing my violin skills than ever before, all for the sake of that gramophone. )

Ayato: ( Even I - who wasn’t too thrilled about the whole idea at first - got very serious about the competition. )

Kou: ( Everyone held tightly onto their violin’’s bow, as the moment of truth arrivedーー )

*Rustle*

Ruki: …Ridiculous! Can someone please explain this to me!?

Kou: R-Ruki-kun, calm down…

Ruki: How am I supposed to keep calm in a situation like this!?

Shuu: Unbelievable…

Reiji: You! I am fairly sure I told you to submit our application in time so how has this happened?

You explain.

Reiji: Haah…I was a fool for entrusting you with this task. ーー Well, all of us know how to properly play now, so let us put those skills to good use at the next given opportunity, I suppose. …Right, Carla?

Carla: …W-Wha…?

Ayato: Oi, do you also smell trouble?

Kou: Yeah, you’re right…

Ayato: Let’s dip before it’s too late!

Kou: Good idea…

Ayato and Kou sneak away.

Carla: Haha…Hahaha…

Reiji: Good grief…Laughter is the only thing coming out of him.

Carla: Ahahaha…!

Shuu & Ruki: …!?

Carla: You bastards…!!

*WOOSH*

Reiji: …Carla!? R-Relax! Everyone makes mistakes! Let us remain calm and talk it out!

*BOOM*

Carla: My Iberico serranoーーーー!!

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 一千万 or ‘issenman’ is 10.000.000 or ten million yen, when converted to dollar, it would be around ten thousand dollars.

(2) Shuu calls him 化石男 or ‘kaseki otoko’ which literally means ‘fossil guy’.

(3) There’s one third instrument he mentions but I could not find what it is for the life of me. To me it sounds like he’s saying ‘zunzun’ or ‘zunzu’ but I couldn’t find any African instruments with that name.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #carla tsukinami

217 notes · View notes

bumblepony · 1 month

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a kiss prompt for Alexei & Amos from As Nandorluna’s Go Your Own Way & As Long as You Follow. I liked your one short fic of them.

The prompt would be "kiss with trembling lips"

Thank you

This was not as sexy as I first thought I was going to go, but I still liked making it sooo, here we go. I hope you like it, Nonnie.

I am also linking this to my good friend @chronicallyonlinewriter because these are her original characters, and I want to make sure she is happy with this little slice of story I slipped into her universe.

If anyone is interested in reading her work I highly recommend it, it's one of my favorite series in TLOU fanfic fandom here is the link People Still Listen to Fleetwood Mac in the Apocalypse

Story under the cut!

“Alexei?” Amos’s voice called sleep-rough from down the hall, a familiar sound that always managed to stir something soft in Alexei. Normally, after hearing it, he would drag whatever book he was reading back to the bedroom and cuddle up under the covers with Amos’s pleasant warmth pressed along his side. But today, Alexei didn’t have time. He’d already spent too many days away from the hospital, and he needed to get back. He shoved another book into his bag.

“In here.” He called, then mumbled quietly to himself as he looked around him, making sure he’d grabbed everything.

“What are you doing?” Amos asked, his confusion clear in his tone. Alexei looked up at his husband, tall and mussed, standing in the doorway. His T-shirt wrinkled, one leg of his sweatpants hiked up just below his knee, and the wild red curls of his hair half falling out of the low ponytail he usually put it in for bed. His shockingly blue eyes were tired but sharp as he took in Alexei’s actions.

“I have to get back to the hospital. I’m already so behind… on everything.” He sighed, his mind already cataloging all the different experiments that were waiting for his hand, each at a different stage of completion that only he could correctly handle.

His mind was so taken by his musings that he didn’t realize Amos had moved until his hand was over the top of his own. Strong fingers stopped his relentless packing and repacking of his bag. Placing his thumb and pointer finger under Alexei’s chin, Amos turned his face to his.

“Alexei, stop. What are you doing?” Amos asked again, his voice low, desperate. Alexei’s eyes skate over his worried face, his bushy brows pulled down over his dark circled eyes, mouth creased into a thin line between his scruffy beard. “You nearly died less than a week ago, I thought… Jesus, when I got the call, I thought that was it. I rushed to the hospital, sure I’d be too late, sure all I’d be able to do was hold your already cooling hand as they told me you were gone. But by some fucking miracle, you were still alive. My beautiful, reckless, stubborn husband was still alive.” Amos’s hand came up and brushed away a lock of silver hair from his forehead before he leaned in and placed a trembling kiss on his lips. Alexei could feel Amos’s hand also shake, where it rested on his face, and guilt sprang up hot and acidic from his gut.

“Alexei, you look like shit. You’ve been burning yourself at both ends since we got here. And I understand, I really do, I know how important this is for you, for us, for everyone.” Amos took a deep breath and placed his forehead against Alexei’s, “But, Alexei, I need you. Do you understand? If-if you do find a way to make a cure, but I end up losing you in the process because you’ve run yourself down to the bone, then none of it will have been worth it for me.” Amos pressed his lips to Alexei’s once more, so fiercely that their teeth clacked against one another. He held himself there, his breaths harsh and sharp against Alexei’s lips before pulling away and piercing him with his gaze. “Do you understand Alexei? None of this is worth it without you.”

Alexei knew the heart attack had scared Amos. It had scared him, too. But hearing that fear in Amos’s voice, feeling it in his touch, finally forced him to see that his life meant something beyond his ability to make a cure. His wellbeing mattered to Amos, and he had not been taking care of himself.

“Amos, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” Alexei stammered and lifted his hands to rest on Amos’s shoulders, needing to feel his solid frame under his palms.

“Well, you do now, so I need you to take care of yourself. This was a wake-up call, and I need you to listen to it, please,” Amos said and pulled away to take Alexei’s bag and shove it under the desk. One last clear message that Amos did not plan on letting Alexei go anywhere today.

“Okay, Amos. Okay, I will.” Alexei laughed weakly. His earlier need to be back at work spilled out of him in a rush and left him feeling raw and exhausted.

“Good then. Good.” Amos ran a shaking hand through his already chaotic curls, his tone surprised as if he had expected more of a fight and then reached down to take Alexi’s hand. “Come back to bed. I know you’ll have to go back eventually, but can we work all that out tomorrow?”

Alexei laced his fingers with Amos’s and reached out his other hand to gently smooth down Amos' jaw, the rough scrape of his scruff a calming sensation against his palm. “Of course, sweetheart. It can wait.”

“C’mon,” Amos tugged him from the little office and back to their warm, comfortable bed.

#tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #ao3 #Alexei #Amos #Go your Own way

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midnightprelude · 1 year

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Major Arcana: Hanged Man

Written by @oftachancer and I for the @30daysofdorian event!

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next

CW: Southern Circles of Magi; conversion therapy (aftermath); successful blood magic ritual; recovering from trauma

The Circles in the South were appalling. That was all Dorian could think, over and over, as he followed the novice away from where his father was amiably chatting with one of the elder scions of the Gallows. An apt name for such a cold place. Cold - in the air, seeping into the stones. Cold - in the study of eyes behind heavy place helmets.

“And this is the library,” Karl Thekla said as he pushed a narrow door open into a dark and crowded room.

Dorian fought a sneeze. “Oh, yes, very nice.” He could have fit three of them into the library at Qarinus. “Your lamps seem to have gone out.”

Karl shook his head. He was a broad sort of fellow with soft blue eyes and an impressively well kept beard. “We had an ordinance from the Council. No more magelight.”

“…they want you to use… open flames… in a library?” Dorian asked slowly. “Does this ‘council’ know that books are typically made of paper and parchment and therefore are quite flammable?”

“Hm,” Karl answered him, smiling and noncommittal. “We have your paper on interdimensional temporal analogs. I’ll show you.”

“Gladly.” More than he expected from a glorified prison. The reason his father had thought to bring him to this dismal place was entirely unclear to him. They hadn’t seen the sun once since they’d set foot underneath those ominous statues in the port—men and women twisted in expressions of agony—and Dorian was wondering if he would return to Tevinter with a deathly pallor. “What manner of study do you conduct here, Karl?”

“This and that. I used to-“ He shook his head, drawing a long drawer out crowded with scrolls. “Mostly, I help the elders with their work. Keep the books organized. That’s a task that takes a fair bit of time as you can imagine.” He poked through the scrolls, checking labels by the flicker of a flame through glass. “What is it like?” he asked quietly. “Up there?”

It was the first time Karl had asked anything of the sort and it caught him off guard. How much was he supposed to say? Would it hurt father’s business if he confided in the apprentice? Dorian glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice. “In Tevinter, the land is so riddled with magic it seeps into the soil. It makes everything hum, feel more alive. I hadn’t noticed it until the first time I left. The world feels dead here.” He dropped his gaze, tucking his hands into his pockets. “No offense.” They had a mage, manually organizing scrolls. It seemed a dull, meaningless, unnecessary sort of task. “What do you mean: you ‘used to’?”

“Before they moved me here. I’m from Ferelden. I trained hounds and pigeons and hawks there.” Karl’s smile softened. “It was my home. I was in love.” He cleared his throat as one of the plate-clad Templars walked past them, lifting one of the scrolls. “Here you are, my lord.” And Dorian had a sudden rushing sensation that the man’s quiet, happy smiles since he’d met him that morning were largely for the benefit of the people guarding him.

More like a prison than he’d believed.

As the footsteps faded, Karl took the scroll back with a shake of his head. “You don’t want that. It’s a history of spoons. Actually, there’s an interesting little section on filigrees, but… One moment, I’ll find the paper. I had some questions actually. Quite a bit was censored before it reached us. Is your tour taking you as far as Ferelden?”

“No, not quite so far as that. Montsimmard is our last stop.” Ferelden was a backwater, his father had said, with little but fleas and rain. Karl had seemed pleasant enough, though. If he’d come from Ferelden, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Would you have me send a message to her on your behalf?”

“Him.” Karl bowed his head. “I’d be grateful if you would try. I’m not certain if they’re getting stopped on my end or his. Haven’t had word from him in months and the man’s a chatterbox. Ah, here we are.” He drew a scroll free with a gilded baton and a series of inscriptions on its sheath.

Him? A man?

“You see when we received the shipment, it had to go through a border station - all the scrolls from Tevinter do - and they’ve made a muddle of specifics in section four…”

Dorian blinked. He was staring at his own manuscript, but all of the details were wrong. Sigils misplaced, text blotted out. He winced, shaking his head. “Anyone who tried to use this would be incinerated, at best. It’s utterly useless as written.”

“We had gathered as much,” Karl surmised, gently touching the parchment as though it could be valued as anything more than kindling. “Terrence did try, despite my warning, poor man. Dreamers will dream. Still, the summary was inspiring. I had a theory…” He set the scroll down and glanced over his shoulder, drawing a long folded sheet of papers from inside of his robe and carefully shifting his broad shoulders to conceal them in a corner. “That this might be closer to what had been intended? I don’t see why they bother mucking about with these things. It’s not as though we’re likely to get ahold of the lyrium, let alone the ingredients required. Still. Makes them happy. I guess that’s something.”

Dorian studied the scroll, humming to himself. A bit of a brutalist approach, surely, but it was nearly there. He traced a few sigils with his fingertip, lines appearing burnished into the parchment. “Not a bad go of it.”

“High praise,” Karl breathed, casting a quick grin in his direction. “I’m a glutton for theory. Yes. That- I wouldn’t have thought of it that way. Thank you.”

“As am I,” Dorian murmured, ducking his head. It had only been a spell to harness energy from storms. Why in the world had it been fiddled with? Why had they banned magelight, of all bloody things? Why had Karl been taken from his home? Was it because of- A fog seemed to creep into his mind then, slow and opaque, making it difficult to think. Karl was rolling up a piece of parchment and stowing it away. “I apologize, what was it we were speaking of?”

“What weren’t we speaking of?” Karl asked with a little roll of his eyes, waiting again for the heavy footfalls of a Templar to pass. “Magic in the soil, you said? Anders would bloody love that.”

“Anders?” Dorian asked softly.

Karl nodded once, his smile warming, his eyes softening. “That’s one of his names. One of many. Too brilliant to have just the one.”

“…and you love this-“ Dorian blinked, something not quite making sense. “This Anders. From Ferelden.”

“From the top of my head to the tips of my toes. And the backs of my knees. Definitely those.” Karl ducked his head, nodding down the row of books. “Do you want to see- he does these drawings of cats that are amazing. I’ve them in my chamber.”

“Cats,” Dorian repeated, bewildered. This man has just admitted to a near stranger that he- Love. The death of duty, his father had said. A fool’s solace. Dorian nodded his head, too confused to protest. “Yes, why don’t you- I’d be interested in seeing them.”

So he followed the initiate down the hallway and around a corner, up a staircase and around another bend until they reached another narrow door. Karl ducked inside, waving at the door. “Shut that?” he asked, kneeling and pulling a board from the wall under the window to draw a pile of papers from the floor. “Just need a moment to find them.”

It took him more than a moment, untying ribbons and retying them, sorting the piles of papers into stacks around the floor like a squirrel with its hoard of nuts. Letters. Notes. Sketches of animals. Karl grinned, collecting a few deeply-creased papers that had clearly been folded and unfolded many times and held them out. “See. He can get all the poses. Impressive, yeah?”

Dorian stared at the paper in his hands, holding it like it was a priceless artifact. To Karl, it certainly was. There were five depictions of the same cat, with the inscription ‘Prince Fuzzybum’ emblazoned along the top in an inelegant scrawl. Sleeping peacefully, batting at a butterfly, lying on its back, curled into a ball, and licking its lips lazily, the chubby striped cat was caught forever on the tattered parchment. Something in Dorian’s chest ached. “Very impressive,” he agreed, feeling dizzy. “Why are you here, instead of there?”

Karl’s proud smile slipped as he took the paper back, carefully smoothing it with his thumb. “It’s safer this way. It’s supposed to be,” he added, the furrow between his brows deepening. “I thought it would be. I’m not so sure anymore. I suppose that’s not really a thing, up north, is it? Mages not being allowed to- Because the Chantry says we’re supposed to put Andraste above all else. I tried to, for a long time.” He laughed a little. “She can’t compete with Anders. Too bad for her.”

Family above all else. The Imperium above all else. Perhaps they weren’t so different, after all.

A sharp pain shot through his temples and Dorian doubled over, reaching towards the other man for support. His vision blurred, his stomach lurching.

“What-“ Dorian muttered, feeling as though he might spill the contents of his stomach. “Where-“

Karl’s hands were steady on his shoulders. Warm. More slender than they’d seemed. “I’m with you. You’re alright.” The deep Ferelden accent was gone, replaced by clipped consonants from the inner lakes and rounded Carastes vowels. “You’re strong. Be in this moment.”

There was something so familiar in that voice, but the moment Dorian had the thought, it slipped away like sand through his fingertips. He leaned into the touch, his frame shaking violently.

“Which moment?” Dorian whispered, but his own voice sounded far away and warped. “Where am I?”

“He told you about the man he loves,” Karl said slowly in a voice that wasn’t his own, watching him. Something about the way he watched - solemn and steady - felt so familiar. Familiar like the voice. “And you told him. You told him- What did you tell him, Dorian?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian whispered, his voice catching in his throat. “I can’t- I don’t-“

“Skin like whisky?” Karl laughed, the Ferelden drawl returned with gusto as he leaned against the bed a few feet away. He had a few papers in his hands. “You’re a poet. You need to help me write something better. Mine are all: ‘your hair is good, I want to pull it’.”

Whisky?

Pull?

Dorian felt ill.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can help you,” Dorian coughed, bile on his tongue. “I wish I could. I don’t- I’m afraid I don’t know how.”

Skin like fine whisky, eyes like mossy pools. He could spend an eternity studying the myriad shades in those irises and never grow tired. Trace the curve of that smirk with his fingertips and still never understand all of its facets. He could-

What?

What could he-

Why couldn’t he-

Dorian wrapped his arms around himself, closing his eyes tightly.

What did you tell him?

What did he say?

Where was he?

Why was everything agonizing?

“He sounds,” Karl was saying, his voice fading in and out, lost in a conversation that Dorian couldn’t quite keep up with, “and I say this with the utmost respect for your lover, like a nerd.”

He-

Dorian doubled over onto the ground, his hands pressed onto the cold, unforgiving stone.

His lover. His lover.

My-

He gasped, crying out in pain, his insides feeling as though they’d been set alight.

“He sees the world in color and light, hears his magic like music,” his own voice was saying, though his lips didn’t move. Burning, scorching his skin, searing his lungs. “He makes me feel whole, for the first time in my life.”

“Yeah,” Karl sighed, resting his head back against the straw mattress. “Yeah. That’s the stuff. That’s the whole thing. I miss him every minute of every day, you know? How long until you get to go back to yours?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian heard himself admit softly. “He’s training with a Rivaini spiritsinger. I haven’t heard from him in months.”

Who?

Who was he-

“You write my letter and I’ll write yours. Maybe we can confuse the blokes into actually answering,” Karl suggested with a wink. “Keep them on their toes.”

How could he not remember? Why did everything hurt?

Dorian’s voice was a dim echo, as though heard from underwater. “Yes, why don’t we? Perhaps that will catch their attention.”

“You’re lucky,” Karl said, sprawling on the floor to write. “To love out loud. To see the clouds when you want. Don’t take that for granted.”

“I won’t,” Dorian said, through another’s mouth, the vision fragmenting and shifting. Aloud. Somehow the word felt wrong. “I promise.”

#dorian pavus #rilienus maecilia #dorian x rilienus #karl thekla #kanders #dragon age fanfiction #30daysofdorian #midnight writes #oftachancer writes #major arcana fic

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south-sea · 1 year

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thinking aloud about metal sonic specs and such

on the one hand, i’m not enough of a tech-savvy person to make this stuff up and it still be real-world feasible. on the other hand, there canonically exists an in-universe device that can just zap a badnik’s exterior (and presumably interior circuitry etc) back to pristine condition, so i think i’m allowed a little bit of magic-leaning nonsense.

that said: the best way to describe metal’s data storage capacity/system is to liken it to a walking library. he has petabytes worth of space. he compresses terabytes at a time and files them away not unlike putting a book on a shelf, but unlike zipping things up on a computer, he can still freely access the data without extracting it again.

this constant rearrangement contributes to his occasionally longer processing times and need to regularly defrag his systems. it also lends to why it's so easy to fragment his thoughts/effectively stun-lock him. he's powerful, not perfect; even something at his level is still capable of encountering logic errors and getting caught in a loop.

constantly recording bits of audio/video and storing it too—he’s able to retroactively record up to a minute prior to when he officially starts; not unlike a Switch, for example. i’d argue his margin for retroactively recording is considerably larger, even.

nothing gets deleted. every single person he meets and place he visits gets a profile. any time someone does something unexpected or “out of character” or generally anything he doesn’t understand in the moment, he records it to review later. this is both for the sake of building their profile, and for his own understanding of how and why people, in general, operate. in the case of applying it to individual profiles, his intentions are not always so benign. he’s a manipulative little beast who can and will use little tells like that to his advantage.

it’s likely he already has a full petabyte, mostly of prior missions/battle/individual data. no small portion of another may also be devoted to his past models’ experiences. given eggman designed him, i’d be willing to bet he easily has a 10PB+ capacity. i'd be shocked if eggman didn't have a dedicated drive specifically for metal's backup data.

definitely taking some liberties with this one, but let’s say it wasn’t the material neo was made out of that allowed him to shapeshift, but was instead a fluid or something that imparted the ability, kind of like the metal virus. so, somewhere in him is a holding tank for that fluid. i’d imagine only a small amount is needed, like he unlocks a mechanism to release it, and this tiny amount rapidly coats everything to reenable this ability/capability to assume the neo form again at all. this lock mechanism/tank, like his voice chip, are still physically present since the last neo arc, but he’s unable to access it internally himself.

probably goes without saying, but his capacity to learn is unmatched. it only takes him seeing something once or twice for him to be able to mimic it, and this especially applies to things like sign language. you could feed him a video of every single sign, and he’d come out of it perfectly fluent after a few minutes of processing. gestures are similarly almost entirely learned secondhand; he rarely moves in a wholly "unique" way. battle moves take a little more doing to replicate on the fly, but it certainly all gets stored for him to review and practice later.

he has all that processing power, but things like empathy/theory of mind are, and will mostly continue to be, somewhat beyond him. he learns largely by example, but this kind of thing is different. mathematics are one thing, organic thinking is another. there are some concepts he just struggles to grasp on a personal level.

most importantly, though, that does not mean he’s incapable of experiencing his own emotions. those, even on their own, can be intense. i'd put him somewhere on sage's level when it comes to sentience/sapience/emotional capacity. he just expresses it in different ways, given his heavily limited means of expression.

#metal sonic #sea talks #assume stray headcanony posts like this are inherently applicable to the au #it’s probably just not worth putting in the actual tag #in particular i’m wondering about what might allow him to reassume the neo form without needing to be manually upgraded #the rest is just stuff i've wanted to ramble about for a while now #and figured others might get a kick out of seeing how my little dude operates at least #edit: just kidding future sea decided it's going in the tag anyway #second chance au

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neufer · 2 years

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Reread of The Hollow Boy!!

It took me a while to organize my thoughts, but here I am! You know the drill. I’ve finished rereading thb and have come to share my thoughts on the internet.

1. Out of the whole series, I think this book gives some of my favorite descriptions of the trio.

- “[Lockwood] was a picture of poise and unconcern. It’s how I want to remember him, the way he was that night: with horrors up ahead and horrors at our back, and Lockwood standing in between them, calm and unafraid.”

- “As always, peril suited [Lockwood].”

- “My name is Lucy Carlyle. I make a living destroying the risen spirits of the restless dead. I can throw a salt-bomb fifty yards from a standing start, and hold off three Specters with a broken rapier. I’m good with crowbars, magnesium flares, and candles. I walk alone into haunted rooms. I see ghosts, when I choose to look for them, and hear their voices, too.”

- “George, it had to be said, had been more of an acquired taste, being scruffy, acerbic, and renowned around London for his casual approach to the application of soap. But he was also intellectually honest, had boundless curiosity, and was a brilliant researcher whose insights kept us all alive. Plus -and this is the crucial point- he was ferociously loyal to his friends, who happened to be Lockwood and me.”

- “We were a total mess. We’d been up all night. We smelled of ectoplasm, salt, and fear. We looked at one another, and grinned. Then we began laughing. . . But that was just it. We weren’t hopeless. We were good. We were the best. And we never fully realized it until it was too late.”

2. Some of my other favorite descriptions/descriptive moments:

- “. . .Flo is the unwashed queen of the river. . .”

- “Superimposed upon it all, my face blurred in and out of view. I glimpsed the child I’d been when I first came down to London, and the operative I’d now become, a girl who spoke with ghosts. More than spoke: who knew their desires.”

- “There’s nothing like the onset of night to bring out the best in an agent, and for some of us the darker it is, the better. I’m talking visually here. Suddenly every embarrassing pimple is cloaked in shadow; jaws become firmer, waistlines sleeker. Unwashed faces become pale and interesting; the lankest of hair acquires a glamorous sheen. The rougher points of personalities recede too; thoughts turn to survival and to the job at hand. So it was with the ragtag band that Lockwood had assembled that evening. For once, as we stood beneath Aickmere’s tissue tree, our similarities outweighed our differences. Kipps and Lockwood, Kate Godwin and I -we were all made of the same stuff.”

3. The Lavender Lodge case has always been one of my favorite opening sections, because it shows the duality of Lockwood & Co:

- “Remember I said there was that moment of sweet precision, when we gelled perfectly as a team? Yeah, well, this wasn’t it. The rapier shot past, missing me by miles. It skidded halfway across the floor. The bottle struck Lockwood right in the center of his forehead, knocking him out the window.”

- “Lockwood, of course, could throw. I was already moving up the ladder. A small square object came spiraling straight up and over the central beam; down it came, landing right in my hand. Not even a fumble. Close by, George was slashing with his rapier, watching my back, carving coils asunder.”

4. A bit of personal info about me: I’m currently in college studying journalism and have a little bit of experience in the field. So reading the chapters that start with newspaper articles has been very enjoyable for me. For instance, I just know that the reporter who came up with the headline ‘Bed & Breakfast -And Murder!’ was absolutely delighted with themselves. I certainly would’ve been.

5. As always, I’d like to highlight the moments humor and sarcasm that stuck out to me most.

- “Pass me the ladder, George.” George waved his hands above his head in panic. “Where from? Down my trousers?”

- “It’s angry!” I gasped, ducking under a grasping coil. “I got a connection with the ghost! It’s angry about something!” “You don’t say?” High above, George raised his knees to avoid the thrashing tentacles. “Your sensitivity is amazing, Luce. How I wish I had your Talent.”

- “Kipps was red-haired, scrawny, and pathetically self-satisfied. For a variety of reasons, possibly connected to the fact that we often said this to his face, he had long disliked us here at Lockwood & Co.”

- “Are you going to listen to him?” the skull said. “I wouldn’t listen to him. If you want to make psychic contact with a killer ghost, why not? I say, Go, girl!”

- “Barnes may be grumpy,” Lockwood said, “but when I show him your findings, he’ll act soon enough. He knows how good we are.” He winked at us. “Don’t worry. I know we have our differences, but there’s a lot of mutual respect there. If he hesitates, I’ll sweet-talk him. He won’t let us down. . . “That total and utter idiot,” Lockwood growled. “That mustachioed imbecile. That benighted, blinkered jobsworth. He’s a clown! A fraud! An oaf! I hate him.”

- ‘George was surveying the room. “Yeah, don’t think much of the displays,” he said. “Some of these mannequins are hideous. . . . Oh -it’s you, Quill. I thought you were an exhibit.”’ I actually laughed out loud.

- “How’s the party going? Holly Munro grooving away?” “She’s eating her walnut salad with reckless abandon, yes.”

6. I’d like to take this moment to thank Stroud for throwing us some repressed Locklyle bones to go along with all of the angst.

- First, Lucy still wearing the silver necklace Lockwood gave her in tws and then using it during the Lavender Lodge case? Beautiful. I ate that shit up.

- “I smiled at him. There was a horror behind that door. I would see it in seconds. Yet my heart sang in my breast, to be standing beside Lockwood in that house. All was as it should be in the world.”

- Lucy makes such a habit of attributing her physical reactions to Lockwood to something else. “Lockwood, somewhere two floors above, would have a similar setup. I imagined him up there, standing alert and watchful in the dark. I felt a twist in my chest, pleasant and painful at the same time: probably indigestion from those stupid sandwiches.” 🤦‍♀️

- “I glanced at him -his eyes were bright, his face set, his long legs swinging beside mine. We were in step together, perfectly in sync. And in that moment the world around us dimmed and blurred. Tensions and disagreements fell away. Everything was simple. It was just us, together, chasing a giant helium balloon down a central London street. Everything was as it should be -back in it’s proper place. Perhaps Lockwood had had similar thoughts. He grinned at me; I grinned at him. A swell of joy rose in me. . .”

7. I wanted to talk about this next bit separately. It gets a little angsty, but trust me, there’s more to come. So, I think it’s safe to say that “Come off it. You know I’d die for you.” is one of the biggest lines throughout the whole series. I’ve found that it’s kind of hard for me to conclusively analyze it (perhaps that’s for the best). Over time, some of the discourse I’ve seen surrounding this particular line is that it played a key part in Lucy’s decision to leave, and it obviously doesn’t really display healthy behavior. I agree with this, but I think it’s also important to note a few things Lockwood says after that. Mainly, he talks about how he has to look out for Lucy because he can’t lose someone dear to him again. In my opinion, this is a very important moment for Lockwood, because it’s really the first time he opens up after showing Lucy and George Jessica’s room. He then goes on to say, “Under the anger and the sorrow, Lucy, I was just left feeling hollow. Because I should have been in the room. I should have been there for her. And it’s not going to happen again. Whatever the cost, as long as you’re in my company, be sure I’ll always be there for you.” And that’s the beauty and the tragedy of it, isn’t it? Because at the end of the day, Lockwood just wants to protect those that he loves. He just isn’t able to find the balance between loving someone by being with them and loving someone by being prepared to die for them.

8. While we’re on the topic of Lockwood, let’s take a second to appreciate some of the moments that made me go 😧🥰 at the same time.

- There’s of course saving Lucy from the ghost in the Wintergarden house. I’ve always loved the sentence, “Quite how Lockwood managed to leap so far, I never understood,” and for no real good reason, I just think it’s amazing. And the whole description of the moment as well, because you’re so in awe at Lockwood and so worried about him at the same time.

- The whole parade fiasco is amazing too. First, he throws his rapier to knock a gun out of the one guy’s hand (taking a page out of Lucy’s book, perhaps?). Then, he saves Ms. Fittes from a bullet by diving in front of her, using a plastic unicorn as a shield. And then, there’s this!! “[Gale] turned away from the edge and, in the same deftly casual movement, his rapier flicked up and jabbed straight out at Lockwood’s side. The action was so quick I didn’t fully comprehend it; nor the way Lockwood’s arm shot down to block the sword tip with his rapier guard. . . It gave me a chance to see how close the sword had been to slicing cleanly beneath the ribs. It would have traveled into his lungs and pierced his heart.” ????

- Nearly forgot about this: “Lockwood threw his rapier away; he stepped out of the circle. I saw him stagger as the wind caught him; his coat billowed up and outward. With an effort he kept his feet, leaped across the edge of the hole. Then he was beside us, grinning that old grin.”

9. Oh, you thought we were done discussing Lockwood? You thought we weren’t going to take this opportunity to transition into a discussion about his tragic childhood? Sorry, you’re wrong. Listen, it’s not as if I forget about how tragic (there’s really no better word to describe it) his backstory is. It’s always there, just in the back of my mind, and then BAM! I think about it too much and I get so emotional. Let’s break it down:

- Let’s begin with the fact that he’s even able to tell George and Lucy so much when he shows them Jessica’s room. Yeah, later on Lucy realizes that he left out some stuff, but, telling them about how she loved the smell of lavender? And that’s what he keeps in her room? 😭 He’s also able to admit that he wants to talk about it, it’s just too painful.

- Also wanted to point out this line: “But that’s too much like dealing with an ordinary Visitor -and she’s not that, George, she’s not ordinary. She’s my sister. Even if she does come back, I couldn’t use iron on her.” *cries*

- For some reason, I SOBBED when I read the bolded quote that I already mentioned in #7. I’ve never cried while reading these books, so I have no idea why, but it just hit me so much harder this time around. Seriously, that whole scene where Lucy tells him she went into the room and what he says in response? I was NOT well. (Oh yeah, and his parents being his first ghosts??? Way to slip that in there, Stroud😭)

- SPEAKING OF WHICH, I think it was SO heartbreakingly genius of Stroud to have Lucy accidentally experience the traces of Jessica’s death. Because from that, we get this: “For whenever I looked at Lockwood, so cooly contained and self-assured, the memory of that desperate little voice came rushing back, and set me squirming in my seat. Nor could I forget the echo of that little boy’s violent grief, the fury that had instantly avenged his sister and -years later, in his every action- continued to avenger her.” Like, fuck😭.

- One last little note. I think out of the entire series, this book incorporates it’s title the best. Because, as mentioned in the book itself, not only is the Fetch posing as Lockwood a ‘hollow boy,’ but Lockwood himself is a hollow boy. That’s literary genius.

10. We’ll take a little break from the angst for now. There are a couple really sweet found-family moments in the beginning that I really love. First: “Yes, we were overworked; yes, we lived in partial squalor. Yes, we risked our lives almost every night. Yet I was very happy. Why? Three reasons: my colleagues, my new self-knowledge, and because of an opened door.” It’s just so adorable to me. And then second (we won’t acknowledge what happens after this just yet): “Happiness bloomed inside me. This was what it was all about. Portland Row was home. My real family was here.” ❤️❤️

11. Kind of along the same line, I want to highlight George for just a moment. Not only is he an absolute genius in this book (I mean, he figures out what ‘the best minds in DEPRAC’ can’t, and that is just simply iconic), but he also perfectly exemplifies being the ferociously loyal friend Lucy describes him as.

- He has such good instincts throughout the entire book, and is really the friend that Lucy needs him to be. For instance, when Lucy misunderstands him and thinks he’s talking about her dislike for Holly when really he’s talking about her connection with the ghost Little Tom, he immediately asks her about Holly.

- He’s also just spot on, about pretty much all of Lucy’s problems. It’s pretty well recognized throughout the fandom that George knows everything, and this particular book shows that very well. Examples: “Were you feeling particularly abandoned or needy up there?” “Never good to bottle things up -is it, Lucy?”

- Then there’s of course this: “Leopold Winkman flipped his hat rakishly low across his eyes, spun on his shiny heel, and began to saunter away. His picture of serene progress was interrupted by George, who, whipping his rapier from his belt, stuck it diagonally between Leopold’s legs so that he tripped, lost his balance, and tumbled into a crowd. . .”

- And this (in regards to Lucy losing control of her Talent): “You mustn’t put too much emphasis on this. Things happen to all of us. I’m sure we can all support you going forward, and-” This in itself is just so ❤️, but it also made me really sad to think about what Lockwood says in tcs, which is George was pretty ‘cut up’ about Lucy leaving.

12. A few other things before we end with a discussion about all the drama.

- I really appreciate Kipps in this book. I can honestly say his character development is one of the best I’ve seen in any form of media, and I think we start to see a lot of it here. I sort of forget about the Kipps/Lockwood comparison that Stroud obviously alludes to, but it really shows in thb, like in this instance: “No matter what Barnes says, no one has a clue what’s going on in there. It’s a free-for-all, chaos every night, and it’s already cost me the life of one agent. It’s not going to cost me another. Nor do I want to sit quietly back, doing nothing. If you’ve got a worthwhile lead. I’ll work on it with you. That’s all.”

- Honestly, props to Lockwood for recognizing that the company was not ‘coping’ with being overworked. He could’ve handled hiring Holly and a lot of other stuff a lot better, but at least he was able to see that they needed help. Also, props to Holly for being like, ‘you know you guys can turn down clients, right?’

- While on a case by herself, Lucy says, “Slowly, insensibly, a malign atmosphere began to invade the room. . . Doubt rose in me; also anxiety and a strong feeling of self-loathing.” Good to know what I feel normally is what it feels like when a haunting starts. /j

13. And finally, the one pretty big thing I haven’t talked about. Yeah, that. So obviously, there’s a lot of tension, repressed feelings, miscommunication, and just overall drama in thb. While rereading it this time, I just kept thinking, ‘this is really complex.’ Lucy sort of addresses this: “The funny thing was, I still acknowledged the connection that Lockwood and I had made, the previous night, as we ran together side by side, and the rest of the world molded itself around us. It had been real, I didn’t doubt it. But what I did doubt was Lockwood’s ability to sustain that connection in any meaningful way.” I’ll elaborate more on that later. Right now, these are the moments that truly made my jaw drop and made me want to shrivel up in a hole:

- ‘“I saw him as he passed; he was running for his life. Don’t shrug at me like that! He was so desperate. We’ve got to feel sympathy for him.” That was a mistake -I knew it at once. A light in Lockwood’s eyes flicked out. His voice was cold. “Lucy, I don’t have sympathy for any of them.”’

- ‘“I’m just worried for [Holly’s] sake,” I said. “You felt the energy of the apparitions last night. She’s a novice at this. Look -she doesn’t even know how to attach a rapier to her belt. She nearly tripped over it then.” I allowed myself the smallest grin, saw Lockwood’s gaze on me, and looked away. “Well, you needn’t worry too much,” he said slowly, “because I’ll keep an eye on her. She can stand beside me in my circle. That’ll keep her safe. You’ll be alright, I know.”’

- ‘“I hope so,” Lockwood said, “or next time I’ll leave you behind.” “And what? Bring Holly Munro along instead?” He went all pale and silent then. “It’s up to me who I take and don’t take,” he said slowly, “but I sure as hell won’t bring anyone who jeopardizes the safety of other agents. If you want to spend the rest of the winter dealing with Cold Maidens and Stone Knockers on your own, just say the word.”’ *and that’s exactly what Lucy ends up doing💔*

- ‘“I’d like to make a final toast. We’ve all done well. But there’s one person who I feel should be thanked for their very special contribution.” [Lockwood’s] eyes met mine; I felt happiness run through me like syrup; even the tips of my toes felt warm and prickly. I was back in that moment during the chase. I hadn’t been mistaken. “Holly,” Lockwood went on. . .’ When I tell you this gets me every time. My stomach drops and I get such second-hand embarrassment.

- ‘“Lockwood asked me to come, didn’t he? It’s not my fault my Talent’s not as sharp as yours.” “Well, you could’ve always said no to Lockwood.” “Like you do?” She gave her trilling laugh.’ 😳

- ‘“But don’t pretend you’re so caring, Lucy Carlyle! I told you about what happened to me at Cotton Street, and you couldn’t have cared less!” “That’s not true! How dare you say that?” “Then why didn’t you show it, Lucy?” “Because. . . because the same bloody thing happened to me! I lost my team as well! They all died too! All right? It upset me!” “Well, I didn’t know that!” “Well, I didn’t ask you to know about it, did I? It’s my business!” “Like Lockwood’s past is your business too?”’ 😳

14. So yes, the complexity of the situation. The way I see it, it’s easy to see how both Lucy and Lockwood, and then Holly, are in the right and wrong at the same time. I’ll start with something that I always think of when I think of thb. So, I know that Lucy gets a notable amount of hate for how awful she is to Holly. And rightfully so; there are a ton of moments where Lucy’s inability to tolerate Holly is honestly annoying. However, I don’t think all of her behavior is unwarranted. Because listen, as someone who had like four good friends at the age of 15, I know how disorienting it is when someone new comes into the mix. That’s really the root of Lucy’s problems with Holly. Think about it. The last group of people she was really close with -her team under Jacobs- all died. She’s still able to form meaningful relationships with Lockwood and George, and doesn’t want it to change. She even voices her concerns, so yeah, it’s understandable why she’s upset. It doesn’t entirely excuse her actions, but, like I said, it’s complex. Which brings me to Lockwood. He (as well as Lucy) obviously has some very, very repressed feelings that he can’t even begin to work through. I think that’s important to note, as well as the past trauma he’s slowly working through. Something else I noticed: he’s really bossy when it comes to Lucy and her Talent in this book. I thought for a while about why that might be. He does mention at the end that her talent ‘makes her vulnerable’ and he ‘has to look out for her.’ So that definitely has something to do with it. But, I also think some of it might stem from the stress of wanting his company to be respected. Made me really glad I don’t have to worry about running a company while being an angsty teen. But, like with Lucy, that doesn’t excuse his actions. One last note, I think it’s so interesting how Lucy can go from describing working with Lockwood as the ‘rightful pattern of events,’ and having Lockwood’s voice being the one she wanted to hear ‘more than any other’ whilst below Aickmere’s, to leaving. It really puts the severity of the situation into perspective.

Whew, that was a lot. But, so is thb. I just have to say, despite all the conflict, I truly love this book. I always have. It took me so long to make this post that I’ve already read tcs, so maybe I’ll get that post up soon! I’m really looking forward to finishing this reread.

#lockwood and co #the hollow boy #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george cubbins #The Skull #holly munro #jonathan stroud #angst #tension #repressed feelings #repressed englishman #this was so much

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dairy-farmer · 9 months

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Hi! 🥹🥹 I absolutely adore your writing and your characterization of Tim, like he’s so life like and real, but also super lovable. Your works has actually inspired me to write something about Tim, like the movie vibes and your words are so captivating?? Authors with magical words like you are so rare 😭 thank you for existing and posting and writing!! 🥰🥰🥹

I’ve read books and tried writing little by little. Sorry if this is annoying, please just ignore this question if you’re uncomfortable answering. I was wondering about your writing process and how you plan it out? Like, do you imagine Tim in a scenario, and he just automatically moves and talk? Sorry if this makes no sense. Like, because he’s smart and I’m not really so it’s kinda hard 😭

Your flow is also super super smooth and has a rhythm, which is 🥰🥰!! Like something about your writing is so pleasing. Thank you once again for sharing your works!! 😭😭 like your tumblr answers and tweets are written so well, if you publish books that’s not even about Tim, I’d buy it no doubt.

I hope you’re having a great month and great year, and everything is going smoothly for you 🥰🥰 thank you for inspiring me to write.

that's so great to hear!!!!!!!!!!! i'm so happy you've started experimenting with writing that makes me ecstatic to hear!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ it's most definitely not annoying and i'd love to answer to the best of my ability!!!

the way i write is a bit disorganized- it's usually an idea that hits me or a concept that unfolds in my mind from normal everyday things. for example: on twitter i wrote a dicktim thread fic that took place in the very back seat of a car on the ride home from the beach. i got the inspiration to write it from remembering how much i hated going to the beach as a kid because i'd get back to the car all wet and sandy and i'd be cramped in the backseat where the cooler, towel, bags, and bags of peoples wet clothes and bathing suits would all be and i imagined how much more it would've sucked if i'd been part of an even larger family and naturally since all i think about is tim i thought of him in that situation and how he probably would've ended up sitting on someone's lap on the ride home. so i think that ideas sort of come from all your experiences and things that you know. the more things you do, read, or watch help fill your head with little bits of information, tropes, and all different kinds of things that may end up creating ideas!!

in terms of how i plan things either in tweets, tumblr responses, and within fics in general. i don't actually outline anything- i really should though!!! i feel like thoughts would be a lot easier to organize if i outlined it first. but with twitter i just write what i think of as it comes to me. because of how twitter is structured it's hard to do a traditional 'beginning' 'middle' 'end' storytelling without it getting too long and the character limits on individual tweets means often your thoughts get interrupted by the limit so you have to delete and rewrite things for it to fit. tumblr and normal fic writing you sit down and do similar things but there's also more...thought put behind it? like on tumblr and when writing fics i can go back and change, add, or delete things without completely altering the general flow of it! so the platform you're using definitely plays a role in how well you can get into a rhythm of writing!

with how my brain works with imagining the scenes as i write them it's a little bit hard to describe? it's a lot like when you're reading- the scene is playing out in your head and not in front of your eyes like how it does when you watch TV. i learned some time ago that there are some people who don't have the ability to mentally visualize things. like if you asked someone to imagine an apple they wouldn't be able to do it. when i learned that it was incomprehensible to me because when i write it's less that i'm thinking it and more like i'm 'describing' what i see in my mind. like in my writing when i say tim is out of breath it's because he's panting like he's run a marathon. if i say his skin is glistening it's because he's sweating heavily and the light is bouncing off it. occasionally i do slip in more in-depth detail, like i wonder where the light source is coming from in order to get the 'glistening' effect and a more comprehensive layout forms in my head- maybe the curtains of the window is open and sun/moon is shining light in, maybe there is a bedside lamp, a candle etc. often times when i'm writing the scenes it's from the perspective of a 3rd person or a 'film camera' effect. i never see the scenes from the point of view of tim or any of the characters- it's like i'm always observing them from the corner of the room ( a bit of a creepy way to put it but that's how my perspective occurs). i don't think i 'direct' their actions very consciously, i sort of let them play out in my head by themselves and if i don't like how something is going i 'replay' it and do the scene again until it's formatted or done in a way that i like and that's what ends up getting written down. that's the reason why a lot of my stuff isn't particularly dialogue heavy, i focus more on descriptions and internal monologues and scene settings and i tend to use dialogue when i'm leading to some conclusion or something to push the scene/get the plot moving.

also your point about tim being really smart rings true because if you want to do a mystery you need to plan and figure it out first- the problem with writing a very intelligent or clever character who always comes out on top is that you sort of need to be smart to do it and pull it off 😭😭😭😭😭

thank you so much for all your kind words 🥰🥰🥰🥰 it makes me so happy to learn that you enjoy my work and it makes me even happier to know that you've been inspired to write!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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thestupidhelmet · 1 year

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In response to this post:

that70sshowgoldencouple

Oh we would have SO much fun! ��

We’d have to keep Kurtwood Smith and Debra Jo Rupp as executive producers tho! Heard they gave lots of input on Red and Kitty and from what I’ve seen, it shows! They know their characters well 😊 imagine getting to collaborate with them on a story for Red/Kitty 😳 I don’t know if I’d be able to speak!

Of course KS and DJR would be EPs. That wouldn’t change. ❤️

But we’d prep you so that you could speak to them (I say as if us being in charge of T9S is actually going to be a thing 😂).

einsteinsugly

What would you change Leia's name to, out of curiosity? And would JH's kid still be named Jay (short for James, perhaps)? Would you push the show into the early 00s, so it makes character sense too?? What would T9S be called, then?

I'd be totally excited for such a verse, that is actually canon. *Coughs loudly* Like mine...

Because it is That ‘90s Show, I’d have to work within that fixed (i.e. unchangeable) framework. I probably would go a bit meta in the first episode and have the characters reference how time moves differently in Point Place (i.e. Point Place Time™).

Eric: It did take me over five years to turn eighteen after I turned seventeen.

Donna: And we once had three Christmases in one year.

Jackie: And I graduated two years after you two did, which makes no sense since I was only a year behind you in school, and I wasn’t held back.

Eric: Time works differently in this town, and you can take the Kid out of Point Place, but not Point Place out of the Kid. And that explains how all of us have children who are fourteen and fifteen!

Jackie: You’re still going with the Kid? I thought you dropped that after everyone made fun of you for it.

Eric: I look exactly the same as I did sixteen years ago. I learned to stop questioning certain things.

---

Eric and Donna’s daughter would not be named Leia. I have a few ideas. One, she would have a name that could be shortened to a gender neutral nickname, which both Donna and Eric think is cool -- and Red and Kitty don’t get. Red and Kitty call her by her full first name while her new friends call her by her shortened one.

Or to continue the tradition of the kids calling each other by their last names, she’d be called Forman anyway. So she’d be named after a feminist icon (Donna’s wish), and Eric chooses her middle name (with the stipulation from Donna that it’s not a Star Wars or comic book name).

Jackie and Hyde’s son (or daughter) would not be named Jay. They would struggle with the naming because their ideas are incompatible. Then they’d be doing something together that’s unrelated to the baby-naming, and the right name would hit them at the same time -- and they’d shout the name at the same time, excited. And it would be a very sweet moment between them, yet again proving how similar they truly are deep down.

---

Because the show is set in 1995, Kurt Cobain’s death would be a reference point for these kids. It was a major traumatic event for teens in ‘94. Maybe one of the kids in particular, for whom Nirvana and Kurt is an emotional touchstone (maybe J/H’s son), would still be dealing with the grief to some degree.

There could be a clash of musical tastes among the kids. The ‘90s had quite a few distinct and significant music scenes going on. I think these kids would be more at odds here than the ones in That ‘70s Show. Jackie’s musical taste was the only real outlier.

---

Sexuality and gender identity would be explored in my version of That ‘90s Show. As I wrote in a previous post, “[w]riting within the limits of how people understood these things in the mid-'90s doesn’t mean writing the show as if those limits are the actual boundary to people’s sexuality and gender identity.”

---

Ultimately, everything would arise from character. Character would drive the plot, which would affect character development, which would affect the plot, etc. The conflicts would be organic to who the characters are, not forced on the characters -- which would mean making them behave OOC so that those conflicts could happen. The jokes, too, would arise from who the characters actually are instead of writing the characters’ behavior to (or for) the joke.

---

All of the above is about writing That ‘90s Show. Not a spinoff that takes place at a more realistic time period for the T7S characters to have had kids. Nor for a future!fic.

#That 70s Show #That '90s Show #Jackie x Hyde #Red x Kitty #Eric x Donna #My Meta #My Essay #Meta #Essay #that70sshowgoldencouple #einsteinsugly #Ficlet #Spoilers

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booksandwords · 11 months

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This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Read time: 1 Day Rating: 5/5 Stars

The Quote: You wrote of being in a village upthread together, living as friends and neighbours do, and I could have swallowed this valley whole and still not have sated my hunger for the thought. Instead I wick the longing into thread, pass it through your needle eye, and sew it into hiding somewhere beneath my skin, embroider my next letter to you one stitch at a time. — Blue

This Is How You Lose the Time War (henceforth Time War) was such a stunning read. A surprise to me as well, I picked this up for its cover, animals to fill a prompt, I really didn't expect such a wonderful story and characters. A joyous way to spend several hours. I did read this is a single sitting between about 11 and 3 in the morning (woo disrupted sleeping patterns). Despite the time of night I was reading this easy to follow, something I was slightly concerned about. The only thing I missed until long after I should have caught it was the seeker following both Blue and Red through time and space as they read their letters.

Red and Blue are the book's protagonists, not their real names (we never learn those). Both women are time-travelling agents for opposing factions in a battle to create the ideal timeline. When the story starts they are both aware of each other already, both can sense each other moving upthread and downthread (the terms used for moving in the timeline) Red is an agent for the Agency, getting her orders from the Commandant. Citizens of The Agency are grown in what I see as Matrix-style tanks of liquid. Blue is a player for the Garden, receiving her orders directly from the Garden. Citizens of the Garden are grown in a garden bed. Red is more brutal in her style for making changes to the thread, Blue specialises in subtly. Though as different as they are they do have similarities. Both of them hate Atlantis, both see the beauty in the world and both are more isolationist than their people would like. Their letters to each other are hidden in creative and fun ways. Volcanos, tea, traditional paper and animals among others.

I really enjoyed the style. Time War is written in a combination of letters and third-person narrative following each protagonist in turn. This is a joint write between Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar, as I guessed while reading each author wrote a character. Max Gladstone wrote Red's letters and her reactions, Amal El-Mohtar wrote the same for Blue. They had agreed on a broad outline of the plot structure before starting but the emotional responses to the letters are organic (source: Strange Horizons). This is key to why the writing works so well. Gladstone and El-Mohtar give Red and Blue different voices befitting their different backgrounds. At least at first, I found that Blue had a beautiful mind and Red had a beautiful language. Eventually, their presentations are evened out as their trust develops and their relationship depends. Their letters are so sweetly flirty sometimes seemingly knowingly, sometimes not. The nicknames Red and Blue use to address each other range from funny to cute. There is a practical purpose to them but they are still really cute references. Some are more easily recognisable than others.

I usually ignore endorsements/testimonials/'puff-quotes' on books but I noticed one on Time War after I'd finished reading, it's from Madeline Miller, author of Cirice (more importantly I would say the legendary The Song of Achilles).

This book has it all: treachery and love, lyricism and gritty action, existential crisis and space-opera scope, not to mention time travelling super-agents. Gladstone and El-Mohtar's debut collaboration is a fireworks display from two very talented storytellers.

I like this quote because for once it does a halfway decent job of summarising the story and my feeling about it. I really do recommend this if the blurb appeals to you. It does a brilliant job of creating a world and really likable characters.

I could add so, so many quotes to the review here. I will try to refrain from going overboard. • "And then we'd be at each other's throats even more." Oh, petal. You say that like it's a bad thing. — It's just the way Blue writes this because both of them know this competition is part of them. (Blue, p.36) • Atlantis sinks. Serves it right. Red hates the place. For one thing, there are so many Altantises, always sinking, in so many strands. — The whole Atlantis thing makes me smile so many time travel books venerate Atlantis, and have it as a point in time to go back to a save. This book is very much is just it fails in every strand, why do we bother? (Red, 47) • We make so much of lettercraft literal, don't we? Whacked seals aside. Letters as time travel, time-travelling letters. Hidden meanings. — Should I explain the whacked seals bit? Red's last letter was concealed in a seal Blue had to kill to access it. (Blue, p.53) • I like writing to you. I like reading you. When I finish your letters, I spend frantic hours in secret composing my replies, pondering ways to send them. — This is intended to be reassuring to Blue and it is. There is also something so romantic about this. (Red, p.82) • There is a small hill from which can watch the sun set over the Outaouais River; every evening I see a red sky bleed over blue water and think of us. Have you ever watched this kind of sunset? The colours don't blend: the redder the sky the bluer the water, as we tilt away from the sun. — This is just such a visual description. It is in a letter from Blue while she an embedded operation, as she is for probably 1/3 of the book. This is what she does to remind herself of Red. (Blue, p.88) • I want to say, now, before you can beat me to it—Red, when I think of the seed in your mouth I imagine having placed it there myself, my fingers on your lips. — I'm not going to spoil this one. It is just a beautifully intimate quote. The longing is so plain to see. (Blue, p.125) • I'll be sent, no doubt, to undo the damage you've caused. And we'll run again, the two of us, upthread and down, firefighter and fire starter, two predators only sated by each other's words. — Does this just feel like a mix of want and content to anyone else? Red knows what she wants to be on the treads facing off against red, and she would be content with that... if she couldn't have more. I also really like the names she uses. (Red, p.128) • "You root in the air, my epiphyte. It's no hard thing to trace the new growth to you, singly." — I had to look up epiphyte, I should have guessed it was a botany term. "epiphyte: a plant that grows on another plant, especially one that is not parasitic, such as the numerous ferns, bromeliads, air plants, and orchids growing on tree trunks in tropical rainforests." It does kinda suit Blue. (Garden, p.145)

#tihylttw #sapphic fiction #lgbtq #sci-fi #book review #read 2022 #ktreviews #this is how you lose the time war #amal el mohtar #max gladstone #booklr #science fiction #spoilers on goodreads

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the-himawari · 2 years

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A3! Promotion Event Translation - VELUDO Antique Book Fair (6/9)

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

---

Library staff: We’re looking forward to working with you today.

Sakuya: Pleased to be here!

Library staff: Ah, Tsukioka-san. We are indebted to you from back during Halloween.

Tsumugi: Not at all. Same here. I look forward to working together again today.

Taichi: Back during Halloween…?

Izumi: Come to think of it, Tsumugi-san joined as a teacher for a children’s study session that Veludo library held in the past.*

Tsumugi: Yes. I did that with Itaru-kun and Juza-kun. I had a lot of fun back then.

Library staff: Alright, allow me to once again explain about the antique book fair this time. First, we will ask all of you to help with the reception as well as the organizing and displaying of the books. Moreover, we have set aside time for each of you to introduce your recommended books. We will call you over when the time comes.

Tsumugi: Understood.

Izumi: Alright then. Shall we start off by dividing the roles for the reception, book organizing, and so on? I think two receptionists sounds about right.

Tasuku: The organizing and displaying sounds like it’ll involve quite a bit of book carrying. I’ll take that on.

Taichi: Okay, I’m gonna organize the books too!

Sakuya: I’m curious about the books that are being displayed at the antique book fair, so I’d like to sort the books as well!

Yuki: I’ll work as reception.

Banri: I knew you’d say that. How ‘bout you, Tsumugi-san?

Tsumugi: Well… just like Sakuya-kun, I’m interested in the books. I guess I’ll organize them.

Banri: Gotcha. I mean, it’s fine to switch halfway too.

Tsumugi: That’s true.

Library staff: If there’s anything you don’t understand, we have several library staff members present so please don’t hesitate to ask.

Tsumugi: Yes, thank you very much.

Taichi: This is so exciting~!

VELUDO staff: As for the photoshoot, we’re looking to capture candid shots. So it’s fine to move around freely without being too conscious of the camera.

Library staff: Alright, it’s about time to start so I’ll open the doors. Let’s do our best today!

-pause-

Yuki: Hello, please enter in order.

Banri: …A ton of people came, huh? It’s never-ending.

Yuki: Well, you can buy books at an exceptional price, so of course they’d come.

Child: This book please, Miss.

Yuki: Sure, that’ll be 100 yen. Do you need a bag?

Child: I’m okay!

Yuki: Alright, be careful carrying it on your way. Thanks for your purchase.

Banri: Heh. You’re pretty kind, eh?

Yuki: The other party was a kid, so that’s only natural. But hey, my nephew might have influenced me too.

-pause-

Taichi: They’re buying them up faster than I thought~!

Sakuya: I think we’ll make it in time since Tasuku-san and Tsumugi-san are bringing additional books over right now…

Tasuku: Sorry for the wait. I’ve brought them.

Tsumugi: H-here too…

Sakuya: T-Tsumugi-san, are you okay…!

Taichi: Wahhh, I’ll take some too!

Tasuku: Geez… shouldn’t you be able to hold something as light as this?

Tsumugi: Hey, don’t lump us together, Tasuku. I don’t think this counts as light.

Sakuya: Thanks so much, you two! Okay, shall we place them out?

-pause-

Tsumugi: (Hmm, this goes here…)

Man: Erm… it’s not here…

Tsumugi: Hm? (Does that person perhaps have a book they’re looking for…? I might be interrupting, but I’ll try calling out to him.)

---

*References the Majestic Magic Teacher gacha card set

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#a3!#a3! translation #tsukioka tsumugi #act! addict! actors!

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dreams-of-valeria · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER TWO

For the next hour or so, I couldn’t get that out of my mind. I struggled to come to grips in the beginning but by the end of my spiral, I had decided that it was just a sick joke. A man of his stature, assumingly, was embarrassed, obviously and wanted to teach me a lesson. He probably thought I’d show up exactly at 7 all eager and curious and get stood up like a chump.

Well, not this chump, pal.

And to be honest, I had forgotten about the entire ordeal come high tea time.

It was the busiest hour for the bakery, what with all the yoga classes, Pilates, and whatever health savvy the millennials of LA did these days ending. And Ava just happened to be on leave today. But I couldn’t blame her, her IBS was flaring up.

Although it wasn’t what I pictured when I was 10 years old and wanted to open a bakery of my own, Cleo's was IBS central. Sugar free, gluten free, locally sourced, organic, vegan, yada yada yada. Sure, it was healthy but at what cost?

Unfortunately, I was a slave to capitalism. Envision doesn’t pay the bills. You catered to the majority’s needs. And the majority of downtown LA just happened to be inane and couldn’t wait 5 extra fucking minutes for his matcha tea.

And to think, only 10,000 years ago we were hunters in unprocessed leopard skins. Times have changed. Kind of.

I really underestimated Ava’s quiet but formidable presence. Did she creep patrons off with her cold and off putting persona sometimes? Sure. But that girl moved the walnut cookies like it was nobody’s business. They tasted vile and bitter no matter how many changes I made to the batter, but something about having nuts in confections especially in the off season really seemed to cream their pants. Ironically, we served nothing with cream. Not real cream, at least.

And she gathered tips upto half the jar too. I didn’t know how she did it.

The tip jar today, however, was fittingly scraping the bottom. The bottommost dollar wouldn’t be useful anyway because of the remnants of chewing gum some poser thought it would be funny to drop in.

It was a good day financially, but it was kicking my ass. Drops of sweat pooled down my chest and at the dam of my bra. I hated not being sweat free but there was just so much moving around. The muffins on display weren’t structurally pleasing enough for an Instagram post so could I please check in the back? Usually, I didn’t mind it but I was just nitpicky today. The good news was that I could just sleep it off and not feel this way the next day, hopefully.

It’s not like there was much for me to do after work anyway. I just like the change of place. My therapist once told me it was something about how I wanted to control time, and I agree. Everyday I’m frustrated that after all the leaps we’ve made in technology we’re yet to conquer time. What were the kids at CalTech doing anyway? It was long overdue.

“I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes.”

I dragged my eyes away from the bills on the counter and at the man in front.

“I’m sorry sir, we’re a little short staff—“

It was him. The weird man from the café. Did he say he was waiting?

“Why didn’t you show up?” For some reason, all the apprehension I’d felt that noon was gone, and it was promptly replaced by scorn. Who did he think he was?

“Well I’ve been busy, as you can see,” I shrugged and directed my attention back to the receipts. Then something hit me. “Wait, how did you find me?” I asked, pointing at him with a coffee stirrer I used to pierce receipts.

“You’re a regular at the cafe. George told me where you worked,” he shifted his weight, and the line of sweaty yoga wear silhouettes peered over his shoulder. Fucking George.

“I take it you haven’t finished the book?”

“Mm hm.” I didn’t even look up, because I could feel matcha guy’s eyes burning holes into me. He was the only regular I despised. The rest were borderline tolerable. Why would I get into the business of people if I didn’t necessarily like said people, you ask? I romanticised the idea of baking too much to deal with logistics. Do what you love, right? I didn’t know if it even mattered, we were all going to be forgotten anyway.

Speaking of forgetting, on one hand I felt bad for dismissing him so abruptly, especially now that I knew it was not a setup, but I was restless and wanted as little distractions as possible, because I kept reading the receipt over and over and wasn’t able to process it for the life of me.

The shadow across the counter disappeared and I sighed in relief. I didn’t even have time to unravel why he was so invested in my book review. Did he mistaken me for a minor celebrity? He didn’t seem the type to be starstruck, though.

For real, why is anyone starstruck? What is it about celebrities that make people think they shit gold and lose their minds over it and want to get their signature? On strange body parts? It’s wild if you really think about it.

Focus!

Finally processing the words dozen and GF, SF blueberry muffins, I headed for the display, when I bumped into a wall.

It felt like a wall.

Then the wall grabbed me before I could fall flat on my arse. It was him. His face wore less of a scowl and more of disappointment as he steadied me by my arm.

“You take the cash register, I'll fill the orders?”

He asked, shrugging off the same charcoal suit jacket from noon.

“Huh?”

“I’m a bit rusty with registers so you take that?” He repeated, pulling one of the Holly green aprons over his crisp white shirt. The movement made his cologne seep into the air around me and, well.

“Sure,” I answered, utilising the stray bowl of words at the bottom of my brain that I kept aside for non-innovative conversations that didn’t necessarily require the maximum capacity of my cognition. Which were almost all of them. But the reason now was because I was flabbergasted.

He took the receipts from my hand after a curious glance at me, and dove right into them. I watched him package the goods with expertise, like he’d been doing it for years.

Why? What was happening? Who was this man?

Was I being pranked? Was this Ava? Because I wouldn’t use her pizza cookie idea?

“3 gooseberry muffins, please,” chirped a toned woman in fuchsia yoga pants, who then proceeded to quite obviously check him out. And he wasn’t helping, posing like a model. Seriously, who was this man?

But I was in no position to question help when it was available to me. However inexplicably. So I went along with it.

“Your hair’s a really pretty colour,” he said flatly. It wasn’t. But of course she fell for it. What hold did attractive humans hold over the mediocre that we trusted everything out of their mouths?

He had her giggling like a schoolgirl through her thank yous.

“I’ll tell you what, if you buy half a dozen muffins, I’ll throw in a pack of walnut cookies for free.”

Um what?

“Really?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell my boss though, I can’t afford to get fired right now,” he vagrantly pointed his head in my direction, before cracking a gorgeous smile. We met eyes for a brief second and then it was all gone. Why was he doing this again?

It truly baffled me. What could he possibly hope to gain from this?

The woman promised to keep it a secret as he filled her order, leaving him a large tip. How was he better at my job after 5 minutes? It had only been a few minutes in, but we already had a smooth system going like we’d been doing it forever. The line became decadent and the air of constant mellow conversation settled in.

It was then that we finally caught a breather, and he sidled up to the counter, resting his elbow on the display case.

“I don’t remember mentioning that offer to you,” I said in hopes of starting a conversation. I didn’t care for it, but it seemed like it needed to be addressed.

“I got her to spend more while simultaneously getting rid of the stuff no one wants.”

“How did you know no one wants them?”

“Because it’s walnut cookies,” he shrugged.

I chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Just when I framed a sentence to ask him what the heck he was doing, he beat me to it.

“I don’t mean this offensively, but do you have anything here that’s not . . .”

“Healthy?”

“Yeah,” there was that grin again, but the floor got it this time. It was like he was going to make me work for it. And he didn’t even seem like he was trying. I already felt like I had to impress him for some reason. Was this daddy issues again? I really thought I’d gotten over the whole shebang a year ago.

I retrieved the muffins I baked for the rare customers who weren’t afraid of sugar or gluten from underneath the oven and offered him one. He gave it a once over, inhaled deeply and then took a bite.

I stood up straight. Why was I looking for his approval? I didn’t even know his name.

“Did you make this?”

I could only nod.

“It’s good.”

Did I cream my pants or was it just really hot?

“All of these as well?”

“Yep, that’s what it says on the sign outside,” I chuckled, vaguely bringing up my name in hopes that he would tell me his, shifting my feet. I didn’t want to ask him for some reason. I wanted him to tell me.

“I’ve never met a Cleopatra before.”

“I’m a Cleodora, actually.”

“Greek,” he nodded, sounding impressed. Another bite and the muffin was gone. I noticed how he didn’t speak with his mouth full. A cultured, well educated man who didn't say dude even once. Was he the prodigal son the masses speak of? Who would finally free us from the bondage of surfer dudes and palm trees and tiki torches?

“Your parents fans?”

“I think they just wanted a break from all the Kayleys with two y’s and all the other pretentious names. I’m grateful.”

“You should be, it’s a very pretty name,” he breathed and leaned his back to the counter now, arms folded. I didn’t read too much into the compliment. Not after he found standard brunette shade pretty.

“Thank you, what’s yours?” I had to give in. He wouldn’t budge.

“Kaydyn. With two y’s.”

Fuck.

“Oh,” I leaned away from the register and shifted awkwardly. Just couldn’t keep my mouth shut, huh?

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, finally gracing me with it this time. There was just so much going on that I couldn��t catch much of it. “I’m Atticus,” he said and brought his hand out for me to shake. It nearly engulfed mine. Oh, but it was so warm. I hated it when people had cold hands.

“Greek.” I commented, nodding like I was impressed myself.

“Nah, my parents were really into To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“I take it you’re a lawyer then?” I asked, idly billing a woman’s request for a chia seed tea. Why did I even make those?

“No, just a boring businessman.”

“How’s that classified?” I asked, walking to the filter. He followed me, keeping a respectful distance.

“What’s that?”

“The woman from lunch. You told her your job was classified.”

“Do you usually eavesdrop on private conversations?” He deftly raised an eyebrow.

I froze, my hand on the filter.

“No.” I sounded so guilty, but to my relief, he smiled again.

“I’m glad you did. The conversation was brain dead so I just stuck to answers that required no follow up hoping she’d get bored and leave. I have you to thank for that.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “I’ll have you know, I don’t usually listen in, she was just so loud that I couldn’t get through a sentence.”

“So loud, right?” he enunciated, and that made me giggle.

“An indirect vegan. And I thought LA couldn’t surprise me anymore.” I said, handing the drink to the woman with a smile. She tipped!

“That’s a terrible motto to live by.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s yours? Confuse strangers by demanding their book reviews?”

He was taken aback. Too on the nose?

“I can see how that was odd,” he shifted. “But I was intrigued by your take and wanted to hear more.”

“Why? There’s so many others out there with better takes.”

“But I’ve only come across you.”

I paused and looked at him. Oh?

“The women on Hinge aren’t as . . . sophisticated. No offence,” he added quickly with a hand up to show surrender.

“And you think this is sophisticated?” I asked, gesturing around my silly little bakery.

“Yes,” he said, and stepped closer. “And this.”

He leaned down and I wobbled. I parted my lips slightly, out of reflex, but he moved past me to retrieve the novel I kept underneath the register. If there is a God, please don’t let him have seen that.

“You annotate,” he commented, rifling through the pages. “You have no idea how uncommon that is.”

“You’re just looking on the wrong dating apps.”

He smiled. “Oh, I’m not looking to date at all.”

?????

“Oh,” I breathed like I understood and looked away, mostly to hide my face. He didn’t want to date? Was he looking to make friends on an app famously used to hook up? Well, that was fucking adorable while also decimating to my ego.

I kept a close eye on him after that. He helped me fill a few more orders until it was time to close.

“Ah, the satisfaction of a full day’s job. Nothing beats that.” He sighed whimsically and shrugged his jacket back on.

I chuckled regardless, turning off the ovens and putting my own coat on. “Have you worked retail before?”

Why was he still here? I mean I knew why but how bad did he want this? Was I about to get murdered? Not that I’d mind getting strangled by those hands.

What?

“A lifetime ago,” he replied. Was I getting non-follow up answers now? Sensing the disdain in voice, I wordlessly counted the day’s spoils.

He seemed hesitant, but waited until I was done counting.

“Well?”

I looked at him expectantly like I didn’t know what he was referencing. But again, he wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll be ready with my priced opinion tomorrow at noon.”

“Tomorrow? Why, what are you doing now?”

I knew I should have been insulted that he assumed I had nothing better to do, but for some reason I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I have . . . stuff to do.”

He breathed shakily and said nothing for a minute. “Of course.”

“Only because you’d have to watch me read for a couple hours, that’s all.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged, a grin playing at his lips.

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