#○ honk honk babey! — crack

[timeshrouded]

tag drop i. ic stuff 

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 26 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 26 here, or start from the beginning here

as always, commentary below the cut

Yoojin🐉😊

watch this space....

In preparation for it, Han Hyunjae temporarily requisitions Yoojin’s laptop and combs through the internet looking for photos of the Hunters that he thinks his family should know about in advance. He goes down one too many internet rabbit-holes, takes way too many screenshots, transcribes a summary of the notes in his future diary, then painstakingly puts everything together into a neat little presentation for them.

picture HHJ reading his fifth article wondering where the sung family heir has disappeared to and being like 👁️👁️👁️👁️

had a little giggle to myself about “future diary” that phrasing was definitely on purpose. will exclusively be referring to it as this now

“Right,” he starts, clapping his hands together, after Yerim’s been sent off to play with Hohyoung.

LHH is so much of a background figure.... i want to see more of himself but he likes his privacy.... he’s got his girlfriend and his baby sister and yoojin who’s wormed his way into his good graces by way of Living In Same House but that’s kinda it....... he’s always lurking in the background instead of showing up on screen. come here hohyoung oppa i just wanna talk

Even if Yoojin’s right, Han Hyunjae still has to protest. [...] But he can’t keep it up when Jiyeon looks at him like that.

KJY has the world’s best Stern Mom Voice and Disappointed Mom Glare and to her great delight they work even on fellow adult HHJ. she will use this power For Evil

The other S-ranks are Moon Hyuna, leader of Breaker Guild, and Bak Mingyu of Hanshin Guild.

OK FOR THIS PART I STRAIGHT FORGOT ABOUT HANSHIN GUILD AND I WAS COUNTING UP ON MY FINGERS LIKE WAIT... IF YERIM WAS THE EIGHTH KOREAN S-RANK WHO WERE THE SEVEN BEFORE HER.... (for those curious they were 1. sung hyunjae, 2. han yoohyun, 3. moon hyuna, 4. song taewon, 5. bak mingyu of hanshin, 6. choi sukwon of MKC, and 7. yoon kyeongsoo of soodam. but. i forgot about the last three altogether.)

“Oh, blond guy,” Yoojin says, unimpressed. “Yeah, I’ve seen him on the news and stuff.”

Top 10 Funny Yoojin Moments (I JUST THINK IT’D BE REALLY FUNNY IF HAN “HAVE I MENTIONED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES HOW HANDSOME SUNG HYUNJAE IS” YOOJIN DID NOT GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT HIM IN THIS TIMELINE....)

Han Hyunjae takes a moment to double-check that he really doesn’t have Noise Resistance (L), and looks back in time to see Yoojin rubbing at his eyes and glaring at the screen. 

HEHEHE...... A SECRET TOOL THAT WILL HELP US LATER

“Hyunjae-yah,” Jiyeon says, looking at the photo of Sung Hyunjae on screen, “this man looks—” “LIKE A PIECE OF WHITE BREAD,” Yoojin bellows. [...] “HYUNG THINKS HE LOOKS GOOD? [...] Oh, god, he kinda does, [...] but like, in a trashy romance novel cover way.” [... Jiyeon] gives the computer screen an assessing once-over. “He looks like the models in cologne advertisements.”

this part of the chapter was planned waaaay back in august 2020 and i actually crowdfunded these descriptions from the s-class server dshblksjdfkblsdfb. the original suggestions (thanks to server members for these):

“bland whitie potato with a slap-on seme personality”

“tacky valentine’s day/mom’s cologne advertisement”

“the face of the dude on the cover of all my mom’s trashy romance novels”

and tbh HYJ does think he genuinely looks good but like, disgustingly good, you know... also Hyung Likes Him so [19 gun emojis]

also me handwaving moment of mild homophobia because like. jiyeon doesn’t know yet AND homophobia is a thing in this world BUT i don’t really wanna do, All That (we already did it with HYJ once), so.

“Do S-ranks get rich?” Yerim asks as she enters, because apparently everyone’s coming for his life today. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes and lies down on the bed while Yoohyun calls out an affirmation over his head. “Then I think— oh! He looks nice!” He cracks open an eye just in time to see her nod. “I think ahjussi should marry him for the eye candy and the money.” She beams very wide. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes again and tunes out the loud conversation going on around him. And wishes, not for the first time, that he’d picked literally any other name when he first got here.

yerim says gay rights cuz she’s like 12 rn and she straight up does not really care. but says it in, like, the most frustrating way possible.

sometimes you just need to lie down even as the world keeps throwing shit at you. just lie down and nap for a little bit. especially when the shit in question is the alias regret you had literally back in chapter one of your 25+ chapter story. this is gonna come back to bite you in the ass Very Fucking Soon babe!!!!

You Oh this is like the 17th one I got wrong I swear this course is trying to kill me

me, flicking on that EPSON brand projector,

(i have. been having a Time of it.)

[Yoojin🐉😊 called you (21:35)]

that’s minutes and seconds babey... you can pretty much guess the content of call from context :(

well, uh. most of call. some internal plot and Realizations happening right at the end of those 21 minutes, 35 seconds. namely:

Yoojin🐉❤️

:-)

or i dunno you can be my roommate and we can both leech off my rich and prosperous baby brother!

[extremely sad voice] heehoo... they... care each other....

YMW’s parents are kinda shit ngl. they care about him, but unfortunately, that does not show through in their care for him, ykwim? if they just paid attention to what he was actually talented at and encouraged him in his efforts.................

well, he wouldn’t have met HYJ in canon. but he would also have been a lot happier!! and YMW deserves to be happy!!!!!!!! YMW fucking rights!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You When you came with me to drop off Jihui’s standee. 

they finally remembered her name sjfbklsjdfbl

Yoojin🐉❤️ OH right i was talking to one of my new commissioners about their piece realized they were an old friend of hyung’s

HEEHOO.... HONKS MY LITTLE CLOWN NOSE yoojin forgot to ask about pronouns but that’s okay they’re figuring that stuff out still

Yoojin🐉❤️ it’s getting late the kids are going to bed i have to turn off the lights 

you can take the caregiver out the role of caregiving but he will still think of his baby siblings as his kids

Part of that is changing his behaviour. Hyunjae and Yoojin sit side by side and watch as Suk Simyeong gently coaches Yoohyun on how to interact with others and present a neutral, if not friendly, exterior.

[same voice as ingredience] neurodivergence.....

try and look them in the eye, or at least look somewhere on or near their face, if eye contact is too much

yoohyun, who’s the type to look people in the eye without blinking until they inevitably look away because then they don’t try that eye contact shit again later:

tbh i kinda made up shit for the Training In Formality section i don’t know shit about being Formal and Polite. hope i got it right :pensive:

“He’s not good with touch,” Hyunjae cuts in. [...] “Sorry,” [Yoojin] says apologetically to Suk Simyeong, crossing the room and gently pressing a hand against Yoohyun’s back. The kid slowly stops rocking and leans into the touch as he talks.

he’s not good with touch, Usually..... there are exceptions :-) every time i think about this being canon i go insane. wow. love and trust and faith.

Suk Simyeong nods understandingly, giving the closed door a considering look. “If that’s the case, perhaps he can take over part of the preparations,” he offers.

SSM who’s frothing at the mouth wanting to know more about this dude who apparently did some killer business deal with the head of Dungeon Task Force who all the dungeon people are gossiping about on their phone calls while they cart around unassuming A-rank businessmen: PLEEAAASEE fucking involve him PLEEEEASE make him involve himself in business with me

Still, Yoojin’s work is fairly repetitive and boring, so Hyunjae and the women pull out a pack of UNO cards from somewhere and start playing while he works, not paying much attention to either of the boys.

plugging my Han/Bak family playing UNO art here, please reblog like and subscribe,

He stares down at Yoohyun’s hair. Yoohyun’s wavy hair sits there judgmentally. Yoojin bemoans his budding career as a stylist and admits, “This… isn’t working.”

i’m sorry sweetie... hair isn’t your forte :( you can still do fashion if you try really hard

(fun fact about this whole scene, yoohyun not being able to straighten his hair until he could control flame resistance is Certified Canon!)

“No, shit, don’t get up.” Yoojin flaps his free hand at him distractedly. Hyunjae and his need to do everything himself, jeez. “I mean, like. The iron is not. Straightening.”

“hyunjae and his need to do everything” says the man who a few paragraphs ago wanted to be hair makeup clothing and management all in one

“Okay, but why is it not working, though? Is the iron not turned on?” Wow. Wow! Yoojin wonders suddenly if Yoohyun ever felt as homicidal towards him as Yoojin’s currently feeling towards his big brother. If he ever had, then it’s frankly stunning Yoojin’s survived as long as he did. “Do you think I’m stupid,” he snaps. “It’s plugged in.” “Yeah, but did you turn it on.” “You know what, why don’t you touch it and see?” Yoojin unplugs the straightening iron for a minute so that he can take it over to Hyunjae, presenting it to him with a flourish. The heat will hold on for the few seconds this takes. “Come on, touch it right now. I dare you.”

zmur put this into words better than i can, she described this part as “the feeling when elder siblings doubt your intelligence”--

“What if you used a regular iron. Like for clothes,” Hyunjae says, completely ignoring Yoohyun. Yoojin hums thoughtfully.

--and this part as “THEY ARE RIGHT TO DOUBT IT !”

“Killjoy,” Hyunjae mutters so only he and Yoojin can hear.

(should doubt your elder sibling’s intelligence too, once in a while. keep them on their toes.)

“HAN YOOHYUN YOU TAKE YOUR HAND OFF THAT RIGHT NOW,” Yoojin and Hyunjae and Jiyeon holler in perfect unison.

parental instinct for particular phrasings of commands

“Flame Resistance,” Yoohyun reads out. “S-rank.” It’s not heat resistance, but it’s pretty close, so it probably still applies.

hum hum the flame skill works on heat as well, huh

Yoojin’s watching Hyunjae idly when the flickers start up at the edge of his vision again. He blinks, rubbing his eyes idly, and looks back up in time to see, just for a split second— 

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE VISION PROBLEMS WAS IT? RUBBING HIS EYES WAS IT??

“Eh? It didn’t? I’ll… I’ll try it again, one second.” Nothing, for a second— but no, there is, pale flashes here and there. Yoojin shakes his head and blinks. They die down, then start up again. Fainter, this time. Why? 

gonna say this here because i accidentally set it up as a Thing there’s. there’s no reason. whether the message shows up or not is pretty much random error.

“Ahjussi has an L-rank skill?” Yerim demands. “That’s so cool!” Jiyeon and Yoohyun and Yoojin stare at Hyunjae in silence as he returns Yerim’s eager high-five. He cowers when he notices them.

these three are already so mad and they don’t know that between S and L there’s SS and SSS. they’re gonna be SOOOOO mad. anyway yerim remains the chillest in the room

“So, say you needed to cauterize a wound in an emergency, and you didn’t have access to healing items or Hunters. You could drop the Resistance there, set it on fire, and just… sear it shut.” Yoohyun blinks, an intrigued look coming into his eyes, and looks down at his own forearm. “That’s true, I could probably…” “Yeah, food for thought, I suppose.” “What the hell?!” Yerim yelps. “Though it’s up to you if you want to try it. I still think your hair is fine as is, we don’t have to—” “That’s horrifying,” Yoojin blurts. “No, I should know how. In case something happens like you said. How do I do it?” “Now hold on a second,” Jiyeon says, voice rapidly rising in pitch.

sometimes i think about how dungeon stuff made yoojin significantly more chill with violence and murder and self mutilation in some cases. and how he comments specifically (i think this might be in a slightly later chapter, possibly unreleased) that people like myeongwoo who don’t have those extra years of immersion in the dungeon culture still reject and avoid violence and killing whenever possible. really makes you think

anyway! i saved some extra commentary for those okay with spoilers. continue reading at your own risk. extra large warning in case you’re skilling

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE BELOW CONTENT!!!! IT DRAWS ON INFO FROM UNTRANSLATED CHAPTERS, POST-170S AT LEAST!

“How many of these people did you personally know?” “Not many!” “So one, then,” Yoojin concludes. “You don’t know that!”

HE DIDN’T SAY THAT YOOJIN WAS RIGHT, THOUGH..............

“Why did you pick his name out of everyone’s! I thought you weren’t in touch with S-ranks. I thought you picked a friend’s name!”

:)

they wanted some kind of bedroom decoration for a family member, counting sheep or something, i forget 

a sheep, for a family member of one of han hyunjae’s old acquaintances, is it

[possiblypeachy]

tea & schemes. (4)

―; summary: Jacob visits Florence for the first time. Florence is left with far too many emotions.

―; pairing: jacob frye x ofc

―; word count: 4.9k (its a big boy, babey)

―; warnings: light swearing. anxiety-esque feelings towards the end (Florence gets overwhelmed ): )

―; A/N: i love Florence muchly at this point and, trust me, i already want to write cute little fluffy smoochy things but there’s a bit of time before that still. society has a lot to say about how a woman should be at this time and it really has begun to wear on Florrie, as demonstrated at the end of this chapter.

don’t worry though!!! she’s just babie and will work past it soon. the heart wants what the heart wants, after all.

―; part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

― ❊ ―

Freddy and Florence had spent the next few days having tense conversations between their self-isolation to their own bedrooms. There was a sense of regret that hung in the air but neither siblings seemed to want to speak of it. Florence, nerves too high to even stay in the same room as him for a while and worried that he would further draw attention to her mortal flaws, kept herself to reading. Freddy busied himself with paperwork and patrols until the late evening. That is until Lissie, fed up with their pride, sat them both down and commanded that they talk to one another, lest the cook quit and leave them to fend for themselves.

Oh, if she had a shilling for every time she’d had to do this since working for the Abberline’s, she’d have enough money to finally buy that necklace she’d always ogled on the way to the market. It was the way of siblings, she supposed: they always had to prove they were superior to the other in one way or another.

They had reconciled after a few moments of silence then them both leaning forward and mumbling an “I’m sorry” at the same time. Frederick admitted that perhaps his leash on her was too tight. Florence said that she understood that he was just trying to protect her. Her brother sighed tiredly, thankful that this was all over, and joked that at least she didn’t have to write about their bickering now in her letter to their parents. When she laughed, everyone could feel a weight lift off of the household.

All was well with the Abberline’s once again.

That afternoon, after Freddy had left for work with a smile on his face for the first time in days, Florence had retired to her room, finally content enough with life that she could write a sufficient letter to her parents. Edward and Hannah Abberline were kind parents and especially lenient with their children, much to the dismay of other mothers and fathers of their rank. Their only condition for Florence to move into Freddie’s house in London was that she wrote regularly and that she at least try to find a nice man to marry. She was more than happy to uphold those terms.

The brunette was lucky that, when three knocks came to her bedroom window, her dip pen was away from the paper; with the way that she jolted in her seat, it surely would’ve ruined the page she had been writing on. A string of meowing began from her bed, her cat obviously peeved at the disruption to his sleep. When her gaze finally dragged to the window, half-expecting to see an insistent bird, she met eyes with Jacob, who’s grin told her that he found her surprise amusing.

Florence stood and slid the window up, letting Jacob haul himself inside. “The window is usually open; you didn’t have to knock.”

He dusted himself off, readjusting his coat. Before he could speak, the tabby cat to his left honked at him. Shocked, Jacob looked about before meeting the stare of perhaps the most tired-looking (and sounding) feline he’d ever seen. The cat yelled at him again and he gave Florence a look.

Florence scooped the cat up into her arms, much to its displeasure. “Don’t worry about Duncan. He likes to tell people off for disturbing him.”

Jacob chuckled. “He’s called Duncan?” He reached a hand out and Duncan sniffed it cautiously.

“An urchin gave him to me a year or so ago. The poor child said that she wanted him to live a nice life with a nice lady. She said his name was Duncan.” Florence looked fondly down at the cat, who seemed to have now forgiven Jacob and was gently purring. When Jacob drew away, Duncan meowed and clawed his way up to balance on his owner’s shoulder, sniffing the air. Florence looked inconvenienced but decided to allow it, continuing to speak with Jacob. “What brings you here?”

“Adventure, dear Flor.” He had begun to peruse through her belongings, eyes scanning the letter she had been writing and the cat figurine on her desk. “You, me, the great city of London: are you up for it?”

Florence tutted, leaning to let Duncan hop down onto the bed from her shoulder, and shuffled Jacob away from her desk. “That’s not particularly specific. You could be planning on taking me somewhere nefarious like a…” She paused to think, during which Jacob was practically challenging her to say something terrible, “... brothel in Whitechapel.”

Jacob grimaced but huffed out a laugh. “Nothing of the sort. I don’t even know what that is, Miss Abberline.”

Florence nodded mockingly. “Of course, Jacob.”

“Anyway, before I let you poison my mind with thoughts of brothels,” He gave her a pointed look, reaching down to scratch behind Duncan’s ear, and Florence grinned, “I thought that I could introduce you to a slice of my world.”

Florence cooed, clapping her hands together, though her movements dripped of sarcasm. “Ooh! Are we going to derail a train together?”

His smile said ‘you cheeky mare’ but he continued before she had the chance to berate him further. “No, I was going to take you to a newly liberated stronghold. Evie and I run a gang, you know? Well, it’s more me than Evie but--”

“Where?”

Jacob thought for a moment, like he’d forgotten its location entirely, before breaking out into a terrible smile. “Whitechapel.”

Florence sighed but couldn’t hide the glint of excitement burning in her eyes. Gangs? A stronghold? Goodness, it sounded like a piece from a gritty book or perhaps a play. How delightful!

“I’ll come along but if I get pickpocketed you’re getting my money back, Jacob.”

“Certainly, dear lady.” He made a sweeping gesture to her bedroom door. “Shall we?”

--

Florence hadn’t been expecting to venture into Whitechapel again for a good few months. Catching her brother and meeting the twins there a few days prior had been enough for her. Now, she never looked down upon the poorer; before her father had opened that little shop of his and gained a seat on the town’s council, their family of seven all squished into two rooms and lived off of scrimping. Rather, she felt terribly bad for wandering around perhaps the most impoverished area of London in full health with a warm meal being cooked for her at home. Of course, she didn’t feel sorry for the thugs on the streets that ruffed up those who already had nothing and simply saw them as even more of a reason to visit as little as possible.

When Jacob began to lead her down a dingy alleyway, he seemed unfazed by the drunk man passed out on the floor and… was that his vomit beside him? Florence unconsciously began to walk closer to Jacob, a hand coming up to adjust her hat-- almost hoping that, if she moved it in a certain way, the shadow cast over her fast would hide it. “Are you certain we’re going the right way? Or, are you just leading me down here to test my resolve?”

He chuckled, giving a brief nod to a tall, bald man in a green jacket. “Why can’t it be both?” He stopped walking to let her go in front of him, gesturing for her to do exactly that with a sweep of his hand.

Florence hummed, dissatisfied, but walked ahead of him anyway. She could feel that he was close behind, almost like he was making it painfully obvious that the well-dressed, middle-class lady was with him and not available to be robbed today. It brought her a small degree of comfort, though she couldn’t help but think of her brother’s disapproving glare.

“Oh.” He muttered from behind her. She would’ve turned to look but she decided against it, not wanting to risk accidentally bumping into anyone strung about the narrow pathway. “I almost forgot. Here.” Jacob’s arm appeared at her side, palm upturned and holding the bird figurine from the market. Much to his delight, Florence made what sounded like a pleased little coo and took the sculpture from him, inspecting it with a collector’s eyes. “I went back to the market the other day and bought it; I thought you deserved a gift after the work you did.”

It was a sweet gesture and Florence couldn’t deny the happiness felt in her chest or the smile that immediately cracked her anxious demeanour. “That’s… quite kind of you, Jacob.” She ran a thumb over the intricately carved feathers then, in an effort to keep her newfound treasure safe, she pulled it closer to her body without much thought.

Jacob, however, grinned at this, seeing the amusing resemblance between her and a creature that hoards-- like a magpie or a squirrel. “You collect them, don’t you?”

Florence huffed out a laugh, allowing herself a brief glance over her shoulder to meet his eyes. “Yes, I do. They’re always beautifully crafted and they make a lovely addition to a mantlepiece or desk.” She paused for a moment, pondering. Then, she sighed. “I also collect coins, though they are a lot harder to come by and… I have a book in my desk drawer filled with stamps.”

“Stamps?” He repeated, intrigued. Florence could hear amusement in his tone.

“Stamps.” She confirmed. Wanting anything but having to assess whether or not Jacob thought less of her for this, her sight stayed firmly on the path ahead.

With a simple “I’ll keep an eye out, then” Florence felt altogether better about the situation. It wasn’t often that people simply left her be with her ridiculous collecting habits. She simply enjoyed the… satisfaction that came with the task; she was not a madwoman.

Jacob was becoming more likeable by the minute.

More and more people clad in green began to appear, all regarding Jacob with considerable amounts of respect and admiration. A few made comments about her, telling him that this was “no place to bring a bird like that”, to which, from the corner of her eyes, she could see him throw up two fingers at them. A half-smile tugged at her lips, though she made no audible observations.

They finally got to a small square behind four buildings. A few urchins ran about the place but most were men and women, dressed in green and chatting with one another or having what seemed to be playful brawls. A curious gaze dragged across the surroundings, slowly piecing the puzzle together. Flags of the same shade of green flew and, if she looked closely enough, she noticed that a symbol had been painted onto them: a bird holding a chess piece.

A rook holding a knight.

“You and Miss Frye are the ones that rallied the Clinkers?” She spun around to look at him, face etched with awe. Florence gestured wildly to their surroundings. “I expected a little gathering of rogues and crooks not… this. From what I’ve heard, your new Rooks have been taking down Blighter territory left and right.” Jacob’s eyes were wide but he said nothing, unsure if she was excited to be here or more frightened. A few seconds passed, then Florence broke out into a grin, pointing a finger at him. “I’m impressed.”

The tightness in his shoulders left and he visibly relaxed, mirroring her expression. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Not compared to what I usually do.”

A nearby gang member-- a rook-- booed at him, though it was through a laugh. The man to her side shook his head, breathing out a chuckle through his nose. It was nice to see that there was such a strong sense of camaraderie between them all, despite them being up against huge and (until now) unbeaten opposition. Florence supposed that being united under two people so outwardly courageous and rallying for change that it would make any group be reinstilled with a sense of hope.

She tutted at him, chiding him for trying to take all the glory, but the smile that twisted at her lips told that she didn’t take him too seriously. “Don’t be a prick, Jacob; I didn’t venture here for you to take all the fame from your men.” He feigned offence, holding a hand to his chest. Clearly having just arrived at a stop on her train of thought, Florence tilted her head slightly, “Speaking of which, why did you bring me here? If you hope to enlist me, I’m afraid my days are all taken up with reading and looking for a husband-- you know, the usual.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile and a sarcastic dip of her head.

Jacob kissed his teeth. “A shame, really. Could’ve used a woman with your skill in…” he searched for something to fill the gap. Florence stared at him, a challenging light dancing in her eyes, “... making men feel small.”

She threw her head back, a glimpse of her signature, ridiculous laugh gracing the world. One of her fingers pointed at him and she nodded, “Not bad, Frye. Not bad. But,” Her giggling quietened down and she threw her arms up, as if to gesture to the square and its people, “besides making me feel all-powerful, why exactly have you decided to bring me here?”

“Well,” he began, moving toward a small alcove. There were a few sacks held up on sticks, littered with holes and slices. A crate beside them had a few practice weapons, though she was almost certain that, if she were to be hit over the head with that… wooden stick it would hurt. A lot. “I thought that, what with the mishap--” His eyes flickered to the fading bruise on her cheek, now a sickly yellow colour, and she grimaced, “-- the last time we were together, I might introduce you to extra forms of protection.” Jacob pulled a throwing knife so swiftly from his person that Florence had no idea where it actually came from. He turned it in his hand, fingers carefully holding the bladed end while the grip pointed toward her. “Protection besides a good kick to the bollocks, that is.”

Florence huffed out a laugh and took the knife from him, weighing it cautiously in her hand. “Freddy would go insane if he saw me holding this.”

“Through fear or anger?”

“I’d take a stab at both.” There was a twinkle in her eyes, begging him to pick up on her pun.

He had indeed and gave a “ha, ha, ha” in response, to which Florence shot him an over-exaggerated frown.

Jacob moved to stand beside her, his position forcing her to turn and face the mounted sacks. He pulled another knife out and her gaze flickered towards it. Florence seemed appropriately wary of the weapon and, without knowing, had begun to lean away from Jacob while he held it. His lips curled into a discreet smile upon noticing this but he said nothing; it’s better that she feels in control and comfortable when trying things like this.

“The key to throwing one of this is the power in the wrist.” He rotated the knife around, letting the bladed end almost rest near his wrist. His thumb and first two fingers were at the grip, supporting it, though she could see how loose the hold was-- presumably to make it easier to throw the knife. Jacob looked to her and gestured with his head for her to copy his position. Florence pursed her lips, unsure if she was willing to risk accidentally cutting herself and facing her brother’s wrath, but, after a few moments of quiet deliberation, she did it anyway; she didn’t come all this way just to waste her and Jacob’s time.

He gave her a smile so reassuring and kind that something skipped or bloomed or… something in Florence’s chest and she had to look away.

No. We won’t be having any of that, Florence Abberline.

“Then, once you’ve got a good hold on it, you use the flick of your wrist to--” Jacob threw the knife and, to her amazement, it landed in the centre of the sack, “-- throw it. It can be difficult to get the power right but, once you’re as good as me, you won’t have to think much.”

Florence gave him a harsh side glance. “You continue to gloat even when I’m holding a knife? You’re a foolish, foolish man, Jacob Frye.”

He gave her a sly grin. “It appears you just make me lose all sense, dear Flor.”

Their eyes stayed locked for just a second too long and, in an attempt to distract them both, she threw the knife. Its trajectory was wobbly and the side hit the sack rather than the sharp end but, all in all, he had to admit that it wasn’t too bad; he’d seen some of the Rook initiates throw them worse than that.

Jacob’s lips curled into one of those ‘not bad’ frowns, brows darting skywards. Florence glowered at the fallen knife, never one to enjoy a loss. “Trying to make sense of one of these is ridiculous.” She sighed, pointing to the weapon in the dirt. “Can I not just use one of those as a… normal weapon?”

“It is a normal weapon.”

“Shut up-- you know what I mean.”

As he went to collect the knife, he gave a chuckle. “I suppose you can but only as a last resort; it’s not made for close-range combat.”

Florence huffed. “Well,” A light grew in her eyes, gaze flickering to Jacob. When he turned to face her again, he could tell that a thought was brewing; she had that same look when they first met, “if I were to ever fight someone further away from me, I would much prefer to use a gun.” She glanced down to his hips-- at the straps and holster that held his pistol.

Jacob shook his head, clicking his fingers to draw her attention. “My eyes are up here.”

She grinned, the dimple a deep crease in her cheek. There came a playful wink and a “What can I say? I like a man with who can handle his pistol well”. Innuendo dripped from her tone and he threw his head back to laugh.

“Are you only using me for my gun, dear Flor?” Despite his words, he still pulled the weapon from its holster, checking the cylinder to see how many bullets were inside. He removed all but one.

“If I am, you’re making it terribly easy.” A hand was on her hip when he handed the gun over to her, an impish smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “No resistance, Jacob? You seem like the type to treasure his weaponry.” Florence raised a brow, eyes raking over the pistol in her hand.

He shrugged as she held it up toward the sacks, moving to lean beside a nearby wall to stay clear of… whatever might happen when she shot it. “When a pretty lady offers to play with your gun,” Jacob scrunched his face up, pitch heightening, “you don’t tend to turn her down.”

Florence cackled, leaning over herself to allow her shoulders to shake for a few moments. “You’re terrible.”

“I do try.” He grinned. Then, one of his hands came out to gesture to the training area. “Right. Are you gonna shoot that or n-- pass it back to me.”

“What? Why--”

Jacob took a few urgent steps forward, leaning toward her with his palm open, “Pass it back--” She heard him quietly curse under his breath and stand up straight-- almost too abruptly. He was facing the opposite direction to her now and, as she turned to see who was there, he uttered a devastating: “Hello, Evie.”

Impending doom had appeared in the form of Evie Frye.

Florence could tell that Jacob was caught in between a rock and a hard place with how his brain appeared to have dripped out of both of his ears and he was stood beside her, completely absent. Evie looked between the both of them. Florence hoped that her hat obscured some measure of her face but she also knew that Evie wasn’t an idiot.

“Miss Abberline,” Fuck, “I didn’t expect to see you here of all places. Don’t tell me that my brother dragged you here.” Evie already knew what was happening and that made it triply worse when Florence decided that the best thing to do in the situation was to lie.

Pure desperation coursing through her veins, she grabbed the rook closest to her-- a skinny man in his mid-twenties-- and hooked her arm around his, shuffling herself so they looked like a couple. He didn’t look particularly convincing. “I was actually here to visit…” Florence looked into the bloke’s eyes, her lips drawn into a thin line and her expression panicked. He said nothing and she quietly kissed her teeth, “... Paul. He’s enchanting and I can barely keep myself away--”

“My name is Terrence.”

Beside her, Jacob’s hand flew up to his forehead and he turned away from the pair of them, breathing out a heavy sigh. Evie still stared at Florence, who had frozen in the face of her badly made lie falling apart.

In one last attempt to redeem herself, Florence slapped Paul’s-- Terrence’s-- arm in the same way a wife would when she has to laugh at her husband’s joke. “Don’t be so silly, my love.” She gave Evie a smile, to which the assassin returned but it seemed impatient and altogether unconvinced-- like she was simply trying to speed up her breaking point.

“Good old Paul likes to mess about to try to get Miss Abberline all flustered. He says that her blush is beautiful, isn’t that right Paul?” Jacob joined the fight again, though there was a dimness to his hazel eyes that told Florence that he already knew his sister had won.

Paul frowned. “I just said my name is Terrence. And, why is this woman holding onto my arm?” Florence and Jacob cursed in unison. A smile twisted at the gangly man’s lips, however, when he finally gave Florence a proper look over. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a go on a posh bird. You got any plans for tonight, love?”

Disgusted, Florence yanked herself away from him and crossed her arms below her chest. Jacob grimaced beside her and, with a flick of his hand, gestured for Terrence to leave. The man in question went into a sulk and began to kick dirt up as he disappeared around the corner.

“Are you finished?” Evie glanced between them. The pair said and did nothing, which Evie took as a ‘yes’. She pointed a finger to Jacob. “I need to speak with you about something important so you should--”

“Is it about the gang war, Miss Evie?” One of the rooks piped up from a few feet away, having just strolled into the middle of the chaos-filled alcove.

Jacob perked up at Florence’s side. “The what?”

Before Evie could ask the rook to be quiet, they had already started to speak again, “Kaylock has agreed to a fight over Whitechapel. Whoever wins owns the borough.”

He grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. “That sounds perfect.” Hazel eyes flickered between Florence and his sister. Both women seemed to anticipate his departure before it even began. “Sorry ladies but I have a borough to become king of.” He looked to the rook, who gestured loosely in the fight’s direction. Jacob nodded and was off on his way, musing “King Jacob: sounds good, doesn’t it?” as he passed the girls by, pinching the gun back from Florence.

Florence, finding the whole thing quite amusing, began to laugh quietly, while Evie at her left simply gave a sigh. Blue eyes dragged over to the smaller woman and she raised a brow, gesturing to the direction he left in. “One of the many reasons why anyone should just stay at home if Jacob invites them out.”

“I think his passion is inspiring.”

“Not when you’ve lived with it your whole life.” Evie gave her a solemn look.

Florence breathed out a chuckle, shaking her head. “You and Freddy would get along well.”

Evie, all things considered, didn’t regard Miss Abberline in a negative light; her apparent desire for adventure and little escapades through London didn’t work to destabilise something greater-- like the reckless decisions Jacob had the tendency to make. She only worried that having her brother form some kind of hopeless attachment to Florence would hinder any progress that he might make and keep him perpetually senseless.

A softer look gracing her features now, Evie gestured for Florence to walk with her. “I think, now that my brother has abandoned you, we should get you home, Miss Abberline. Will Sergeant Abberline be back by the time you arrive?”

Florence pondered then her answer came by way of an inconvenienced frown. “If he’s on his break, maybe. Knowing my luck, he will be.”

They finally reached the main street and Evie seemed to search for a carriage. Briefly, she turned to regard Florence, an eyebrow raised. “I heard that Sergeant Abberline didn’t seem particularly happy when you returned home last Tuesday. Has it passed?”

“This morning, actually.” Florence confirmed. “Lissie made us reconcile; she threatened to leave if not.”

“Your sister?” Evie asked, nodding her head toward a carriage parked on the other side of the road.

Florence followed after her, allowing a light laugh. “No. If anything, she’s more like an over-enthusiastic aunt. Lissie is our live-in cook. She tends to help me like a handmaid, though.”

For the first time, Florence heard Evie’s genuine laugh. Her grin formed in the same way that Jacob’s did but wasn’t given out as freely as he tended to. Reaching the carriage, she gave Florence a hand to help her up onto it before clambering into the driver’s seat herself. “Well, this Lissie sounds like a good woman.”

“Ah,” Florence smiled, huffing out a giggle, “only sometimes. I think she enjoyed when I moved in with Freddy; it gave her someone more lively to gossip with.”

Evie hummed, amused, then silence fell over them both for a small while, leaving Florence to gaze out at the changing boroughs of London and let her thoughts run loose. No matter what her mind tried to focus on-- the book she had been reading, the play her and Freddy were due to attend at the end of the week, the dress she so desperately wanted to buy-- all lines seemed to lead back to Jacob and the (albeit limited) actions they’d had throughout the past few days. It was ridiculous to have suddenly become fixated on this one man. He knew nothing about her and she knew just as little about him. Yet, the thought of him persisted.

Was it him? Or the adventure that came from him?

She began to chew on the inside of her lip, thumbs playing with one another in her lap.

Liking and love were not for Florence. She had tried love once and declared that that would be her last time. A life without that burden was liberating, she’d always told herself. It’s why she despises the idea of getting married and having someone always able to hold onto her reins. It was a useless endeavour and would not serve her in any way that she would like. It would suffocate and surround her. That’s what she’ll always tell herself.

She liked the adventure he caused.

“Miss Abberline?” Evie called over her shoulder and Florence straightened up again but her head was still spinning. The hum she gave would’ve been a voice break. “I think…” Evie gave a sigh, “I think it would be in everyone’s best interests if you don’t indulge my brother. He’s-- he needs to focus on our plans in London. We are working for the better of the people and being close to him-- us-- could put you in a delicate position.”

Of course.

"It's obvious that he enjoys the time spent with you and already counts you among one of his friends but I just..." Evie sucked a breath in through her teeth, leading the horses neatly around a corner, "He hasn't yet realised the gravity of our situation. He just needs to focus."

Of course. Of course. Of course.

It was really beginning to grate on Florence: the fact that everyone wanted her to leave something or another alone. Freddy wants her to stop her business in helping him. Her parents want her to stop messing around and find a husband. Now, Miss Frye wants her to stop interfering with herself and Jacob’s plans. It was only ever ‘stop’ and never a push-- an encouragement to ‘go’.

Frustration rioted in her blood. Her hands were shaking. They held each other tighter.

Maybe they were right. Perhaps it would be easier for everyone if she stopped doing and simply let herself be. Freddy only wanted her to be safe and sane. Evie was saying this to protect her and keep London’s best future on the cards. It wasn’t selfish of them to ask; it was selfish of her to disregard.

It was considerate, the part of her mind that wasn’t fire and brimstone thought-- soothed.

“That sounds fine, Miss Frye.”

It’s for the best, the growing calm of her thoughts said in an effort to pacify.

“You have a fair reason for asking.”

All will be well and fine, her mind-- now having ceased its chattering-- assured.

“I’ll let him down gently.”

[varricttethras]

14 for kiss prompts hehehe

bro this was fun ...... varridan said Horny Rights. there was supposed to be a word limit i think but

-

Letters. Everyday it seems Varric receives endless piles of Maker damned letters.

If it isn’t his publisher, it’s the damn merchant’s guild. If it isn’t the guild than it’s ... Varric narrows his eyes. Yeah, no way he’s touching that one today.

“Or anytime soon.” He grumbles to himself, shoving the offending parchment under another heap of papers. “Andraste’s Ass ...”

Varric takes a moment to roll his shoulders and crack out the stiffness in his neck from having been hunched over the table for so long. Is there even still light out anymore? He wonders idly.

In the midst of leaning in his chair for a peek outside, a set of hands slide down Varric’s shoulders and lock around his chest. He nearly jumps out of his skin until familiar weight settles at his back and warm recognition fills him, a bit of the tension already easing out of him at Kadan’s touch. Varric sighs and cranes to cup her jaw as best as he can from his vantage point, trying to urge her down for a kiss.

While he’s distracted, Kadan’s hands deftly sneak down to cup his generous pectorals and squeeze gently.

“Honk honk!”

“Oh of the love of ...!” Varric halfheartedly swats at Kadan, trying to fight his own smile at the sight of her smug grin.

“What?” She teases. “The Hawkes aren’t around to irritate you these days so I am but their humble replacement in the meantime!”

“Ah but they could never irritate me that way you do, sweetheart.” Varric replies fondly.

Kadan nuzzles him appreciatively, then not-so-subtly glances over his shoulder to sneak a look at a letter from a particularly irate Dwarven dowager.

“... Come take a break, love, you’ve been at this for hours.”

Varric wrinkles his nose, sinking into his seat with a sulky glare at his work. “Can’t. I’ll just end up with more to do later.”

“Maybe I could help you then.”

“Nah, I know you already have a lot to- uh-“

Kadan’s warm breath ghosts across his neck, and that alone is enough to give him pause, but then she presses a drawn-out, open-mouthed kiss to his nape. Varric suddenly shivers like he’s been dunked in an icy lake. He feels her smile against his skin, feels the barest hint of her teeth nibbling at him.

If his head were a little clearer, Varric might be concerned by the sheer number of stares they’re drawing or the easily observed hickey Kadan just left on his neck.

As it is though, he can only watch dimly as she separates from him to lope off towards the courtyard.

“Well when you change your mind, you know where our room is, love.” Kadan calls over her shoulder and it’s all the prodding Varric needs.

He sends papers scattering in his wild scramble out of his chair, following the soft chirps of Kadan’s laughter.

Varric is indeed overdue for a break.

-

KISS PROMPTS BABEY

[pigsocks]

due to personal reasons I’ll be DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS-ING

we took a lil bit of a hiatus but we’re back, babey!!

WE'RE BACK IN THE CAVE AND POOR YANNA HAS NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON

“Are you familiar with Geraldine?” “Yeah?” “UHHHH” “oh boy I don't like how that sounds...”

so the cave right behind us is a sheer drop, we can't even see the bottom! Creepy

so Jack casts Light on a rock and chucks it off the cliff, and it just falls forever, until we can't see it anymore

and it comes back to us in like some endless loop!! WHAT KIND OF PLACE ARE WE IN

we have no idea what kind of plane we're on, but at least it's not hell

Yanna goes back into the Kitten Caboodle and off we go

we move down the hallway and through the door, there is a glowing egg in this room and the door is made of bones :'D

the eggshell is not glowing, but whatever's inside sure as hell is! It looks just like a sphere

Gilly checks the door for traps, and so it IS trapped but from the other way! The devil just dropped us in the dungeon as near as he could

Geraldine's first phylactery was her own mother's heart :'D But it got destroyed and she was allowed to make another one, and she chose a small adamantium sphere... approximately the same size as the sphere in the egg

it doesn't appear to be made of naturally occurring substance, but it's breakable

Shaman taps it with his stick and it cracks

SO THIS SPHERE IS FULL OF ALL THE MAGIC

recap: if we were to destroy the phylactery her soul will be released and go back to her body; to kill her properly we need to kill her body AND the phylactery

WE HEAR HONKING from right outside the door

we spend some time deliberating what to do and “guys, there's really only one way forward here”

we decide to pop the phylactery into the Kitten Caboodle, though I'm worried about how it'll react to Yanna and the other Geraldine body parts in there, so Jack puts Yanna in her bag instead

“I need to ask something very important here... -pause- Actually, no I don't” “COME ON MAN YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT AND LEAVE US HANGING”

there's a switch on this side at least to unlock it, we open the door and there's an explosion

THERE'S A FUCKING CLOWN STANDING RIGHT THERE

IT'S ONE CLOWN AND IT MOVED AROUND

oh lord

Shaman did a Perception check and got a 23; it's a clown, it's not a human, it's just a clown

it looks human but it's not wearing makeup, EVERYTHING IS REAL ABOUT THIS THING ITS HAT IS PART OF ITS HEAD THIS IS WHAT HELL LOOKS LIKE

Shaman wants to say hi to it but “roll initiative” “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT WE JUST GOT HERE”

to be fair it just looks like a clown, it's not a scary one or anything it's just.... a clown

WE ARE STILL TERRIFIED THOUGH

first things first, Shaman transforms into a gorilla

the clown approaches and reaches out to Jack, grabs her hand... it sends a shock up her hand without it clamping on (she got a nat 20 on a dex save) and she still takes 8 damage!! We could see her skeleton and everything a la cartoon rules

IT'S LAUGHING and so is Gilly, we have concluded that she fucking WOULD like clowns :'D

it doesn't seem to be able to communicate in any other way, Julienn tried to ask if it can understand us but it just laughs, so.... never mind on that

they cast Blade Ward on themselves and that's the end of their turn

Gilly shoots it with an arrow for 17 damage in the arm and it pops like a balloon! Gilly looks put off for a second before being like 'hmmm'

ITS HEAD SPINS AROUND LIKE 400 DEGREES TO LOOK AT HER

Shaman's gonna punch it, he missed the first time (it hits the clown but does the clown punching thing) but the second one lands for 4 damage, he bops it on the nose and the nose honks

the clown moves towards me and provokes an attack of opportunity, she swings her axe at its head, but it detaches, rolls over the axe and reattaches!

It's reaching for Gilly now (with its popped arm!), she does a dex saving throw (gets an 18) and just like Jack, she takes 11 points of damage

Julienn casts Vicious Mockery at it (“who's this clown??”) and it takes 2 damage and has disadvantage

Jack attacks it twice but misses it both times, its head rolls over it the first time but its head dodges into its neck to dodge the second one!

It reveals that its hat is not in fact part of its head, at least!

Gilly shoots it with another arrow for 19 damage, its head pops into a burst of confetti and its body does that balloon farting around the room thing for an absurdly long time, longer than it ought to be possible for a body that size

it dies though! FANFARE

the confetti is all over us and we can't really get rid of it... Jack just kinda sighs, “this is my life now” “NOW WE'RE COVERED IN CLOWN BLOOD”

we're all doing checks now

I got a nat 20 on my Investigation check, and it's just a clown :'D We know nothing about it, it's doesn't appear to be a construct despite having weird balloon limbs, this thing was alive! WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE, SINCE IT HAS NO CIRCULATORY SYSTEM OR ANYTHING

it wasn't animated with magic or anything, whatever it was it was IMPOSSIBLE

THIS DOES NOT OCCUR IN NATURE. NONE OF THIS OCCURS IN NATURE. EVEN ITS HAT IS NOT MADE OF ANY KNOWN MATERIAL

it's a purple bowler hat! It is not magic, but then again the clown wasn't magic either and we Just Don't Know

we are going up in this dungeon!

We pass another another ribcage door but the ribs are open, Jack walks in front of it and “ROLL INITIATIVE” “GODDAMN IT!”

“OH HEY KIDS” it's another gotdamn clown

the clown rolls itself into a ball and rolls itself at Jack :'D she takes 16 damage!

Julienn casts Blade Ward, and Jack attacks this clown for 28 damage; she chops off its feet and the feet just walk away :'D

Shaman double punches it and it explodes, but this time it turns into a dove and flies away!!

IT ROLLS INTO A BALL AND ROLLS AROUND AND WE ALL HAD TO MAKE DEX SAVES and Julienn and Gilly did not manage to save! I did cast Blade Ward earlier so I took half damage but that was still 7 damage (poor Gilly took 14)

I cast Vicious Mockery and killed it.... with my entire 2 points of damage, the clown pulled its pants over its head and disappears! PANTS ON THE GROUND

we should wake Yanna up so she can give us some healing, as JACK and GILLY HAVE BOTH LOST APPROXIMATELY THE SAME AMOUNT OF HEALTH

poor Yanna, she's so dang confused xD;; We try to explain some things to her but oh boy

“Where are we?” “We're.... kind of in a spooky place?” “CLEARLY”

technically Small characters can't use longbows, but the DM has ruled that Yanna can, because she just does not give a fuck :B “She will use it with her feet”

we decide to blow out a torch from the wall and toss it into the room to see if it's trapped; it does not appear to be, but there's endless liquid pouring out from the torch, yet another instance of impossible physics as the liquid doesn't seem to stop!

We move on to the next room, which open up like dino skulls! The jaws snap shut though when we think there are no traps in this room

the room starts filling with weird bubbly fluid, it has no odour or colour, does not appear to be eroding the walls or anything

we all hop up onto the skulls! We get about 3 minutes before the room completely fills up, the skulls' teeth are clamped very tightly shut and so there is no way out!

It's a skill challenge now, so we'll need 6 successes to be able to escape! 3 failures doesn't necessarily mean we die, but I don't want to think about the ramifications of that either pffbbtt

so we're up to 2 successes but one failure now

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS SO HARROWING WE ALMOST DROWNED IN THERE but like at the last second, Jack opens the jaws and we all get through

BUT THEN

Jack and Shaman are still drowning!! THEY FAILED A DEATH SAVE EACH BUT JULIENN ROLLED REALLY WELL ON THEIR MEDICINE CHECK so they're alive!! holy shit we were actually close to really DYING and having to make new characters I could cry

Yanna gave us all a hug once we got out of there, “that sucked... let's not do that again”

TURNS OUT IT WAS FUCKIN. SELTZER WATER BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT CLOWNS DRINK THIS FUCKING DUNGEON I S2G

I cast Leomund's Tiny Hut so we can rest up in there, but we all had to roll d6s for whatever reason... Jack got a 1

we keep hearing animal noises but all we've seen are clowns

we turned away for a second and Jack's not there anymore – THERE IS A CIRCUS BEAR

she's been polymorphed into a circus bear!!

it's a curse running on the laws of this dungeon's bullshit (Dungeon Bullshit (tm) so she's gonna be a bear for a while.... barbearian friend

“-SAD BEAR NOISES-” because she can't fit in the hut anymore, being Large!! She's just snoofing around doing bear shit

we decide to go down the right path out of the two that are there and LOOK ANOTHER FUCKIN CLOWN

but we have to call it for the night so CLIFFHANGER