#S. IX

[10siglosdehistoria]

LA ALHAMBRA, GRANADA, SPAIN.

(English / Español / Italiano)

The Alhambra is a fortified citadel located in the city of Granada, Spain. With more than a thousand years of history, this monument is currently the second most visited monument in the country, after the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.

It was initially built for military purposes, due to its strategic location on a rocky hill that was difficult to access and surrounded by forest. This was its main use during the 9th to 12th centuries. Later, with the establishment of the Nasrid kingdom in the 13th century, it became a citadel where King Muhammad ben Al-Hamar established his residence and that of his court. Because of the colour of its walls, it was called "qa'lat al-Hamra´´ (red castle), which is the origin of the present-day Alhambra.

For more than three hundred years the place experienced a period of splendour, and numerous constructions were built, many of which have survived to the present day: warehouses, water tanks (cisterns), public baths, as well as well-known facilities such as the Torre de la Vela, the Mosque, the Puerta de la Justicia, the Cuarto de Camares and the well-known Patio de los Leones. Not forgetting the marvellous Generalife, a villa with gardens annexed to the Alhambra, built by King Muhammed III.

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La Alhambra es una ciudadela fortificada situada en la ciudad de Granada, España. Con más de mil años de historia, este monumento es actualmente el segundo más visitado del país, por detrás de la Sagrada Familia de Barcelona.

Se construyó inicialmente con objetivos militares, debido a su estratégica ubicación, sobre una colina rocosa de difícil acceso y rodeada de bosque. Este fue su uso principal durante los siglos IX a XII. Posteriormente, con el establecimiento del reino nazarí en el siglo XIII, se convierte en una ciudadela donde el rey Muhammed ben Al-Hamar fija su residencia y la de su corte. Debido al color de sus muros, se le llamó "qa'lat al-Hamra´´ (castillo rojo), de donde viene la actual Alhambra.

Durante más de trescientos años el lugar vivió una época de esplendor, y se realizaron numerosas construcciones, de las que muchas de ellas han llegado hasta nuestros días: almacenes, depósitos de agua (aljibes), baños públicos, así como conocidisimas instalaciones como la Torre de la Vela, la Mezquita, la Puerta de la Justicia, el Cuarto de Camares y el archiconocido Patio de los Leones. Sin olvidar el maravilloso Generalife, una villa con jardines anexa a la Alhambra, construido por el rey Muhammed III.

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L'Alhambra è una cittadella fortificata situata nella città di Granada, in Spagna. Con oltre mille anni di storia, questo monumento è attualmente il secondo più visitato del Paese, dopo la Sagrada Familia di Barcellona.

Inizialmente fu costruita per scopi militari, data la sua posizione strategica su una collina rocciosa di difficile accesso e circondata da foreste. Questo fu il suo uso principale tra il IX e il XII secolo. In seguito, con l'instaurazione del regno nazarì nel XIII secolo, divenne una cittadella dove il re Muhammad ben Al-Hamar stabilì la sua residenza e quella della sua corte. A causa del colore delle sue mura, fu chiamato "qa'lat al-Hamra'' (castello rosso), da cui deriva l'attuale Alhambra.

Per più di trecento anni il luogo visse un periodo di splendore e vennero costruite numerose opere, molte delle quali sono giunte fino ai giorni nostri: magazzini, cisterne, bagni pubblici, oltre a installazioni ben note come la Torre de la Vela, la Moschea, la Puerta de la Justicia, il Cuarto de Camares e il noto Patio de los Leones. Senza dimenticare il meraviglioso Generalife, una villa con giardini annessa all'Alhambra, costruita dal re Muhammed III.

Texto: La Saberoteca

Video: Granada Soul

Photo: Sergio Luque López - Photography

[emvisual]

Excavación, en 1904, del barco Oseberg, un drakkar vikingo del siglo 9 en Noruega.

[allelitewrestlings]

ALL OUT 2023 - orange cassidy (c) vs jon moxley BATTLE OF THE BELTS IX - julia hart (c) vs anna jay

[notedchampagne]

harrow the ninth, gideon pov & seven stages of grief feat. harrowhark nonagesimus

[yellowymellon]

Holy, I just saw myrid Celestia so here's a bit of rambling and a silly theory :

As we learned from HI3, honkai is a phenomenon that happens to civilizations as they grow advanced, it's basically a system in the imaginary tree, in theory, all worlds should be a target to the honkai, and each world may name it a different way.

So far everyone agrees that Acheron did come from a world very similar to HI3, some think there's 2 eras too but based on the caption saying "the dual planets were intertwined in each other's tragic destiny" I'll assume they were, well, dual planets.

//"Kevin" says that takamagahara is the one that fell first, and Izumo created the blades, but if we go by prev era then takamagahara didn't serve the same purpose as HI3, and the current era has been the one to do everything, except if it wasn't explicitly said that the herrschers were slayed in PE and only now did Izumo use them to forge the blades//

Izumo was plagued by the honkai, won against the herrschers and took their powers, creating weapons (blades) out of them, each representing the 12 herrschers powers that are later wielded by the flamechasers, who in the end, were defeated, and the blades were broken. It seems like unlike HI3 Acheron was a flamechaser, presumably along with Kevin.

So then, the last blades were Forged, the origin and the end, Acheron being the origin did break the end. And that should've been the end of the honkai, it didn't end there, because honkai alone was no longer the threat to izumo.

I think it's pretty deductable from the trailer but just in case: spoiler for acheron's identity

At the very end, she stood under a sky with a black sun (dark hole) , she says "we long since strode in THEIR Shadows" as the last blade gets forged "naught" , and her form changes.

Is that not...when she becomes nihility's emenator?

Would that black hole not be IX's? Would Izumo not be under IX's governance after all has happened?

The last thing acheron does was, slash IX.

That black sun, ix, has always been there from the beginning of the trailer, meaning that, it's not that the despair drew IX, but it's IX who rendered the dual planets efforts useless. You know it's true when even Kevin says that salvation isn't possible.

The pioneer diver of dead waters, a relic set that talks abt Acheron, we know that's true because the flower motif is the same as acheron's. it talks Abt a nameless who was her friend, her goal was to dive in IX, knowing that it's lethal but believing that the journey matters more than her upcoming end.

Acheron's LC's description basically confirms one thing, Acheron acts as a guide to those lost in nihility in an in-between place (existence and nothingness), that very much could be inside IX, since it's a popular sci-fi theory that black holes lead to other dimensions/worlds.

Her LC quotes her friend, in saying that Acheron still has a lot of paths and choices to take before she reaches the end. I'd say that that's proof her friend left a mark on her.

From all of these we can theorize that acheron's current goal could very well be to kill IX, she has the motive to do so after all.

I sadly can't find izumo's ornament story anymore so I can't add more to this xd

What personally peaked my interest is, the existence of IX throughout izumo. Considering HSR to be the higher world, I just recently joked Abt how hooh is cooking With creating the honkai as it's logically under their authority. And that very much can be still be true, but so far, for a world that's supposedly much more advanced such as hsr's, we haven't even heard of a honkai phenomenal. There were early theories that khaenriaah's destruction was means to stop them from attracting honkai into teyvat, Even tho by HI3 standards teyvat isn't developed at all (heck they have every source of energy except electricity), soooo can we blame hi3's inconsistent writing or is their understanding not correct?

I just think it would be interesting that IX's influence might give rise to honkai, as it's basically a death sentence to a world, the faster finality came, the more aligned the world is with IX.

Speaking of which I've also talked Abt how IX is most linked to the path of finality, so there's that

If you read so far, congrats! You're one of the few, here's a cookie : 🍪🥛

[1ivinqdeadqir1]

SHADES OF COOL: VI

Chapter 6: No Good Men

A/N: Hey guys, it’s been a hot minute since I updated this fic, but I’ve had a lot going on recently in my personal life (I.e. university and getting assignments In) that by the time everything was complete, I no longer had the motivation to work on chapter 6. I think from now on I’m gonna aim for more frequent, less wordy chapters as this one in itself is already over 8k… I hope you understand and I hope you enjoy my shit attempt at smut lol… lmk what you think and if you want more

WARNINGS: Lalo and reader being pervs, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to alcoholism, shit childhood for reader, turbulent ‘friendships’

Word count: 8.4k words

Shades of Cool Masterlist: Here

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the music flows from the speaker, Lalo glances at you from where you’re sitting, your knees pointing in his direction and your eyes half-lidded. He extends his arm once you reach a red light and places his palm atop your bare thigh. You're smooth against him, yet there’s a chill to your flesh. Slowly, he begins to draw shapes into your pillowy skin. You don’t jump at his touch or flinch as he starts to move the pads of his fingers across the surface, though the warmth that settles in your stomach is almost too hard to ignore.

“Lalo?..”

He doesn’t answer and instead presses on the accelerator with the ball of his foot. The sudden jolt makes you jump, yet his hold remains firm, gripping—the houses in your neighbourhood flash by the window. When you reach your home, he parks up and turns to you, the car keys now in his pocket. You smile at him, and he smiles back.

“I had a great night tonight, Lalo..”

He shrugs, and his eyes are closed as he does.

“I know,”

“No, really, I did enjoy myself, though I… maybe we should… do it again?”

Lalo hums and taps on his lap. He doesn’t answer and instead steps out of the car and rounds his way to your side. The breeze whips at your exposed legs as he opens the door, outstretching a hand for you to take, a soft ‘come on’ falling from his lips. You almost can’t hear him; his voice is muffled beneath the pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

He walks you to your front door and chimes in as you reach the doormat.

“I think we should go out again soon as well. You’re a good person, and I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck, feigning bashfulness. “If tío Hector likes you, you must be an angel.”

The skin of your cheeks is hit with what feels like tiny pinpricks, the fuzz of your face slightly lifting as Lalo compliments you. An angel, perhaps an exaggeration from your visitor, but still, with the darkening hue, there was no denying how he made you feel.

“You don’t.. you don’t mean that.”

“I do. You think I don’t?”

He steps closer, and you don’t move. He delicately brushes back strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear. There’s a tenderness in his touch, as though you could break at any moment beneath him.

“What I think is that you’re exaggerating a little bit.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then your head. “Exaggerating, you think I’d lie to you?”

“I-“ you stammer, swallowing back the nerves that settle within the pit of your stomach. “Do you wanna come inside for a little bit? I have… have a bottle of wine we can crack open.”

Lalo sighs and locks his car before looking back at you, his dark eyes fixed on your own.

“We’re not just going to sit and drink wine, are we?”

He lets go and steps back, allowing you to unlock the door. You struggle to fit the key into the lock as he stands behind you, the scent of his cologne lingering in the night breeze. He smells like old money and expensive perfume, and you want to bury your face into his chest and take big breaths through your nose to savour it.

“It’s…well, you’ve been here before, so…”

As you enter the building, you kick off your heels, and they make a dull clicking sound as they land on the soft carpeted floorboards. Lalo follows you but doesn't immediately remove his shoes because he's too busy glancing at the pictures on the walls and the mirror adjacent to the front door.

“I have a small TV in my room. We can see what’s on?”

As you invite him into your bedroom, he takes his time observing the space and examining each piece of furniture. The room is coated in a muted, rosy pink wash, and the shelves are filled with books. The pages having been thumbed through countless times, resulting in a warm, buttery colour. His fingers gently trace the words on the spines of the books, "Stephen King? I never would have guessed that you were a fan of horror. Didn't he write that huge book about a creepy clown?"

“Yeah, pennywise… that book freaked me out when I read it, though Salem's Lot is my favourite…”

Lalo hums again. Your collection is so extensive he isn’t sure where it starts and where it ends. There are even books piled up on the floor and beneath your bed, by the looks of it. Their spines peek out from the bedcover, which tickles the carpet. “Do you have a favourite book, Lalo?”

“I… I don't have much time to read anymore, but when I was younger, I liked Blood Meridian. It’s perfect. The guy that writes it… He’s smart as hell.”

“I love that one. It’s a little gruesome in places, but I think it adds to the atmosphere?”

Nodding, Lalo turns his attention to the stuffed animals that sit propped against your pillows. He notices the little faces of the plush toys smiling at him and reaches for a pink, floppy cat, “Es muy lindo.”

The warm light of your bedside lamp highlights the gentle smile on your face. Your makeup appears smudged, but it doesn't detract from your beauty.

“Could you…”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

Lalo takes a few steps closer and pinches the zip between his forefinger and thumb, slowly pulling it down your back until it reaches the band of your underwear. You thank him, though you pause when he doesn’t move to turn around or cover his eyes.

“Aye- where’s your bathroom again?”

“Just down the hall to your right- near the kitchen.”

When he leaves for the bathroom, you let the dress fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. You unclip your bra and toss it haphazardly across the room with your dress. They land down by the cupboard, and you cover yourself quickly with an oversized graphic t-shirt that is a similar length to the dress. You sit on the bed, curled into the pillow closest to the wall and reach for the TV remote propped against the window ledge.

Lalo is quick in the bathroom, though he takes a moment to look at your hair products and the body wash. Picking up the shampoo and flipping open the lid, sniffing, He’s Hit with the scent of peonies and jasmine. The man can’t help but take one last breath before putting it down and looking at the others. He washes his hands before returning to the bedroom; even your soap smells of flowers. He makes a mental note.

“Hey, you okay, Lalo?”

You’re curled into a cushion leaning against the wall, and he smiles, the thrum of the TV drawing out the comfortable silence between you both.

“I’m fine; you have a lovely home. It’s so…cosy.”

You quirk a brow as he sits - having kicked off his shoes - on your bed with one leg folded atop the other, his back to the headboard with one arm leaning against it. You turn into him and smile, “Cosy, are you trying to say that I’ve got a small house?”

He chuckles, and you can feel his body shake as he does. “No, of course not. I mean- it’s small, but I meant that it feels… homely, you know?”

It’s your turn to nod, and when you do, Lalo rests a hand on your shoulder. “I do know. I’m only messing with you… I wouldn’t need a big house anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm, it is only me, after all.”

The film playing is a western from the 60s, something with Clint Eastwood that Lalo looks as though he’s somewhat enjoying. “Do you ever feel lonely here all by yourself?”

He doesn’t look at you when he asks, though you can feel the question pointed in your direction as he concentrates on the film. “No, not really. I like my own space. I spend enough time with people at work, though it can be a bit… not scary but tense when I find stuff outside my house from that weirdo.”

Lalo nods again, though he looks down at you with his brown eyes this time. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you.”

“It’s funny you say that; I haven’t seen or heard of anything over the last few days… which is weird.” Lalo traces the skin of your arm and nods along, humming as though he hadn’t a clue whether or not Daniel would quit his torment.

“You’re pretty observant, then?”

“I try to be. Well, I am when I have a full night's rest.”

Lalo huffs and slightly pulls at your T-shirt sleeve to reveal a floral tattoo that goes from your collarbone to your inner bicep. “Tattoos, huh? You surprise me more and more every day.”

You shuffle a little so you’re curled into him, your finger tracing across his chest, feeling the imprint of the pendant beneath his button-through shirt. “Mmhm, you don’t like it?”

“No,” he began, drawing his fingers across the delicate linework. “ I love it. It's well done.” You shiver beneath his touch as he mirrors the leaves with his fingertip. “Plus, it suits you. When did you get it done?”

You sigh and close your eyes for a second, glancing now and again at the screen. “When I was 18 years old, it was a birthday present to myself, I suppose. It only cost 120.”

“Not bad at all; mine was around a similar price, maybe more, but… I’ve had it for years now.”

You reach out to take hold of his arm, leisurely tracing over his tattoo armband- following each curve and swirl that the blackwork harbours. “Does it have any special meaning?”

“Not really,” he sighs and looks down, “just thought it looked cool when I was about your age.”

Laughing, you slowly place his arm back down, though you stay in a similar position to how you had been before. “You’re making yourself sound so old, Lalo.”

“Old? 43 isn’t old, princesa.”

“You’re old enough to be my dad, just about.”

You hear him hum and slowly reach down to place his hand on your back, rubbing circles into the T-shirt that bunches up as you wiggle closer to him. “Oh yeah? And you like that?”

“Maybe,” you brush his hair back. “The older the fruit, the sweeter the wine.”

Lalo scoffs and presses his strong nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath. When he sighs, you glance up at his lips. And when he moves back, you close your eyes and press your lips to his. The hair above his upper lip tickles your own, and you bunch your fists into the cotton sheet draped loosely across your bed. He seems to falter against the headboard but kisses back moments after, gripping your shoulders with both hands. You stay like that for a few seconds, savouring the warmth and pillowy velvet feeling of his lips driven between your own.

Your kisses become more desperate, and his hold tighter as you sigh against his mouth. He presses you down against the mattress, leaning over your top half, one hand curled into your hair whilst the other clutches at the exposed flesh of your thigh.

“La…Lalo,” you tilt your head back as he stamps hot, wet kisses down your jaw and neck. Lalo drags on the fragile skin that lies taut across your collarbone and pulls his large hand from your hair to your throat. His breath blisters as it fans out across your body.

“So whiny, and I’ve hardly touched you…” His laugh vibrates against the crook of your neck, and you roll your eyes and hips as he teases you by slipping his hand across your underwear.

“Can you stop with the teasing and just…do something?”

He huffed and sat back, pushing your hair out of your face. His knuckles had barely grazed your skin, yet he could feel the heat radiating from you. “You think that the first time I’m going to have you, it’s gonna be on this tiny bed? No way, you deserve better than that, amor.”

Tossing your head into your pillow, you let out a frustrated groan and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. Leaning on your elbows, you smirk at him and trace your fingertips across his abdomen until your fingers meet the metal clasp of his belt. It’s enormous, though, you know, as your hand cups the bulge tight against his pants that he isn’t overcompensating.

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

“ Oh, shut up.” he presses his lips to yours, and you hook your fingers into the loops of his trousers, pulling his hips flush against your own. He lets out a groan as you grind up against his clothed erection.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to take care of that?”

“I’m pretty sure. Besides, you have work tomorrow, hm? I don’t want you being bed-bound before work.”

You take your lip between your teeth, and he brushes his thumb across the lower. Parting them slightly, Lalo moves his thumb across your tongue and into your mouth. He watches as your tongue wrestles with him, and you whine and writhe under his shadow.

When he pulls out his thumb, there’s a lewd pop, and he chuckles to himself, muttering something in Spanish that’s almost inaudible due to the sound of your shallow breaths. The man then peels off your T-shirt and throws it to the ground, kissing down the valley of your breasts, leaving little bites in his wake.

“Fuck, Lalo”

He kisses your breasts and slowly takes your swollen bud between his teeth. Pressing your legs together, you whine into the cotton pillow as the tingling sensation stirs within your stomach and at the apex of your thighs.

“L-Lalo, please…”

He chuckles again, removing your nipple from his lips, a bastardly smirk across his face. “Yeah? Are you going to beg for me, princesa? Want me to play with your little coño?”

You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous-“ he resumes kissing, his free hand kneading the soft flesh, and you moan before slapping your hand across your mouth. Your cheeks burn against your palm, and Lalo quirks a brow at you as you narrowly avoid eye contact. “Oh, I’m ridiculous now, hm? You don’t have to cover your mouth, querida. I wanna hear all your pretty little sounds.” Lalo momentarily cups your face in his hand, caressing the side with his thumb. You might melt with how he looks at you, with those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Mmhm, stop; you’re gonna embarrass me…”

“With all due respect, you’re almost naked…shouldn’t be embarrassed for whining.”

You nod, and he kisses your sternum before moving down your stomach to the underwear band. He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Ai, pinche cabrón, you smell good enough to eat.”

You giggle, resisting the urge to cover your face with your hands. “Don’t be disgusting, Lalo…”

He smiles and hooks his fingers into the elastic, slowly tugging the material down your legs. He leans back to pull them from your ankle, where they hang momentarily, before throwing them across the room. They join the place alongside your shirt. “So pretty, is this all for me?”

“Only for you, Lalo..” you sigh out.

Lalo hums and presses wet kisses across your thighs before arriving at the space between your legs, where he takes time drawing stripes with his tongue across the smooth skin. You cry out when he reaches your clit. You curl your fingers into his greying hair as he pulls you closer and latches his lips to the swollen bundle of nerves and suckles. He moves his head from side to side as he does, and one of his hands moves from beneath your leg to your hole. He toys at your entrance with his index and middle finger, drawing circles with the tips as you gush around him.

“Fuck Lalo, please, stop teas-”

“Stop? You really want me to stop?” He smiles up at you, his eyes drooping as if half asleep. You think you hear him laugh as you instinctively try to push your thighs together, but Lalo’s grip on your legs is firm, and you give up against the strain of him.

“No!- No, I didn’t mean that.” You want to hit yourself with how stupid you sound whining; you’re giving him all the satisfaction he needs. “Please, Lalo,”

He pauses his kissing and tilts his head, “ I don’t want you to think I’m just gonna fuck you and leave. I’m not. You’re all in now, querida.” The man between your legs lowers his head of dark hair. You move your hand to his greying soft curls and pull. There’s a groan, and beneath the sounds of your pleasure, you aren’t sure where it came from, but the sound vibrates against your core as two fingers enter you slowly.

Whimpering, you hit your head into the pillow and moan. It’s loud and obnoxious, but the cotton muffles your noises, and Lalo hums against you.

There’s a hot, bubbling feeling in your stomach, and the knot tightens as Lalo moves faster and curls his fingers inside you. You move your legs over his shoulders as he grips your right thigh with his free hand. Your feet are locked together, one ankle crossed over the other against his back. They twitch slightly, and his lips on your clit pull harder.

“L-lalo,” you almost feel like crying. You’re on the edge as he slams into you repeatedly. You inhale and exhale and feel the rush of heat leave your cunt. It’s sticky and warm against your thighs, and the sound that leaves your lips is embarrassing. Your legs twitch as he stays there, pushing into you and curling his fingers in a ‘ come here ‘ motion, his lips still secured around you.

You think you can see black filtering into your vision in bursts, like dahlias that come and go as sweat drips from your head and your nails sink into thick, dark brown. Your lungs' breath is warm, and as you pant into your pillow, now slightly damp, you feel him shifting slowly away. His kissing becomes more loving and drawn out, and he licks away the river between your legs that seeps into the mattress.

When Lalo sits back on his knees with his hands resting on your thighs, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful man. His greying hair was slightly dishevelled and falling against his forehead, and the deep lines on his face fell, each holding so many years of human emotion. You think you smile at him in your fucked-up daze and reach out.

He lowers himself, and he’s talking, but the words aren’t registering as your palm meets the side of his head. Lalo presses his wet fingers against your lips, and you don’t hesitate to swirl your tongue around them, tasting the remnant of your pleasure, the way he makes you feel.

When he takes them from your lips, he leans back again, and you sigh. He’s gone for a moment but comes back with a warm towel from the heating rack in your bathroom. He presses the softness against your middle and slowly, lovingly cleans away the evidence of your arousal until there’s nothing left. Lalo then moves to a clean part of the towel and dabs at the sweat on your forehead. He draws back the strands of your hair that stick to the skin, and once dry, he presses a kiss there. It’s long, and in the silence of your room, the TV static is the only source of light. You feel safe.

“You’re sleepy now, huh? Ai, sweet girl,” he positions himself against the headboard, and you shuffle into his side, head against his chest with a hand on his stomach. You press, and he’s warm against your naked body.

Lalo combs his fingers through your locks and twirls the strands. He’s wide awake as you slowly feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness. The man throws a blanket over you, and you hum against him.

“So precious; get some rest, amor. I’m not going anywhere.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You wake up to the smell of pig fat frying and the sound of eggshells cracking. There’s no one in your bed, and you’re tucked into the covers with your head lying flat against the pillow. You nestle into the blanket, pulling it to your chest as you bend your knees and curl into a ball. The lids of your eyes feel drawn with sleep, and they almost flutter shut before you glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 5:50, you had to be at work for 7, and the realisation is what threw your body from beneath the covers onto the carpeted floorboards.

Your clothes from last night are folded and placed nicely on your dresser. Smiling, you pick them up and plop them into the washing basket before getting dressed in your uniform. It’s pretty frumpy, and it’s frustrating that you have to cover your tattoos, but it could be worse.

When you finally enter the hall and walk to the kitchen, the smell of bacon grease and eggs grows more potent with each step. Lalo’s stood at your stove, flipping an omelette and poking at the bacon with your spatula.

“Good morning,” lips curled up slightly; you slide alongside him as he plates the food onto two colourful dishes. “Buenas Dias, amorcita, you slept well?”

Nodding, you move to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup. The steam from the liquid warms your cheeks as you proceed with the mug to sit at the small table parallel to the stove. Lalo slides the plate in front of you, to which you thank him with a kiss on the cheek when he comes back with a knife and fork. “Thank you, it looks amazing… usually I just have a pop-tart or some toast and leave.”

Lalo scoffs and sits down with his plate and a cup of coffee at his side, the same cup he’d had when you entered the room. “No, no, there’ll be none of that, basura. You have a busy job, hm? Gotta have a good breakfast to give you energy.”

“I suppose so.” you cut some of the omelette and fork it into your mouth. The softness of the eggs effortlessly melted between your teeth as you chewed, the salt-to-pepper ratio was perfect, and you think he even added some of your spices, which was a pleasant surprise. Bland food makes you want to vomit. He takes a bite of the food, and audibly groans “not half bad, if I do say so myself.”

“Not half bad? Don’t be humble. You’re an amazing cook, Lalo.”

He chuckles and eats some more, taking a sip of the coffee to wash it down. Your cup is steaming, so you refrain from taking long swigs to not burn your tongue.

“So, work today… I’ll drop you off, if you’d like.” he taps at the table with, as though tapping along to a song in his head. “No, it’s alright… I’ll have to drive home”

“I’ll pick you up and drop you off, I’m pretty free today, not much stuff to do other than pick up some things for the restaurant”

You bite the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you think. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you” deep down, the selfish part of you wanted Lalo to pick you up and drop you off. As you finished your food sat across from him- slowly chewing to not make a mess despite your appetite- you wondered why he’d decided to stay the night and whether or not he’d even slept at all.

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have offered, querida”

The man sat across from you finished his food relatively quickly, and it made sense. He’s bigger than you, he can fit more food in his mouth. That, or maybe you’d spent half the time he’d spent eating watching him with your sleep filled eyes. Struggling to form any semblance of coherent thought as you admire the way he moves before you.

“I- alright, I’ve gotta be there for 7:00, so I’m gonna go freshen up in the bathroom and then we can go if that’s alright with you?” You join him at the sink as he dips his hands into the soapy water, a veil of bubbles lacing his fingers as he takes the plate from you with a smile. “That’s fine by me, I won’t rush you, you’ll be there.” Lalo pressed a kiss to your hairline, his nose in your hair as he does. Having not showered yet, you hope the smell of dry shampoo smells as good as the regular shampoo you’d normally use on work nights.

“Thanks Lalo, don’t bother drying them I’ll do that later when I get back from work”

He goes to open his mouth, but closes it again as you pace out of the room, starting toward your bathroom to get ready. Once having finished with the dishes, he places them both carefully on the drying rack alongside the non-stick pan and cutlery he’d placed out. Your coffee had been reduced to a grainy paste at the bottom of the mug, so he washed that out and cleaned it too.

As you were busy getting ready, he headed back into your bedroom and started on your bed. He began by straightening out the quilt and sheets, along with your bears which now sat facing him. He picked one up, the one you'd latched onto last night in your sleep, and he raised it to his nose and breathed in. It smells… sweet. It smells of you, your distinct, natural smell that he just wants to marinate in. It’s not like your shampoo or body wash, but more flesh-like in nature. Must be the pheromones, or something. He didn’t remember much from his biology classes in high school, most of what he’d learned just miraculously appeared to him whenever (or wherever) he needed it.

As Lalo continued to pot around your bedroom, occasionally picking up little trinkets you’d left out, you washed your face and applied a light amount of makeup, enough to cover the bags under your eyes and any blemishes. With the heat, you couldn’t handle a full face. By 12pm it would’ve melted off anyway, so there was no real point in attempting to try. You then brushed your teeth and tidied up your hair, finding it strange how there was a man only a few metres away from where you were currently standing. It was so unbelievably odd, waking up to breakfast, to a person. It was different, but the bubbling feeling in your stomach and the smile on your face - one you hadn’t forced either - upon seeing Lalo cooking away as though this house were his own was nice.

“Lalo, you really didn’t have to make my bed I-I could’ve done that just fine”

“Nonsense querida, you were busy getting all pretty for work, no? I always wondered how you did it,” he began, sighing. You tilt your head, as though to tell him you hadn’t really understood what he meant by that. “I’ve always wondered how you manage to look beautiful even in your work clothes, it’s just so effortless for you, isn’t it?” Lalo said that whilst wiping his hands together, he’s done now, and reaches for his jacket from the night before. You walk over and cup a hand to his cheek, pulling him down to your lips.

You keep him like that for a moment, and his hands move to your waist. There’s a hum from him, and your lips curve upwards against his. His moustache tickles a little beneath your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princesa.”

“I know… fuck… I hate that I have to go to work this early”

“I do too, but we better get going. If you’re late people will begin to suspect something… my tío will, anyway.. he’ll think I’ve stolen you from him”

You pick up your work bag and check if you have everything inside. You do, but freeze when Lalo mentions Hector. “He knows about this?”

Lalo shrugs, his shoes clicking against the floor as he makes his way to the door. “I haven’t said anything, but I think he knows. He’s… a pretty smart guy”

“Yeah, I gathered so, I’d love to talk with him”

Lalo chuckles, and it’s almost a scoff as you open the door and both step out into the warmth of the Albuquerque morning. “Nah, you don’t, he’d probably say something offensive or a stupid joke you wouldn’t get. Probably something about Americans.”

You blush slightly and nod, locking your door before joining Lalo by his side- making your way to his car which is still parked in the same place as it was yesterday. “I- not that he doesn’t like you.” He began, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’d know if he didn’t like you, he’s just like that with everyone… kinda… tough on the outside” he waves his hand, and you grin at him from behind your hand, your bags straps sit at your elbow, and it hangs down by your hip.

“I know, my grandpa can be like that… and my moms last couple of boyfriends.”

“You lived with your grandparents growing up?”

“Well, not really.” Lalo unlocks the car, and you step into your side. He shuts the door and you smile at him through the panel of glass keeping you apart.

When he’s seated alongside you, you continue, because he looks as though he’s still listening despite the conversation being momentarily interrupted.

“I went over every day after school and wound up staying until dark and then I’d walk home… probably couldn’t get away with that now with all the creeps around but… my mom was usually out with her boyfriends so I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

He hums, and you feel empty looking back at the memories of your youth. You always felt as though you’d wasted a majority of your childhood and adolescence. You had spent most of it taking care of your drunken father, so in a way it was stripped from you, but still, the pain was there. Like a cavity within your chest, it should have been filled with the happy memories of going out with friends and birthday parties. Though, most pleasant memories were tarnished by an explosive argument between your parents. Much like this conversation.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare”

He shook his head and placed a hand to your shoulder, a small smile curving against his lips, his moustache rising with the corners of his mouth. “Don’t ever apologise, you can talk about whatever you want with me hm? There’s no such thing as ‘oversharing’ with me querida.”

Despite his kindness, the pessimistic side of your psyche wondered whether or not the kindness in Lalo’s actions and words was to substitute for something much more sinister. Anyone normal would feel somewhat overwhelmed hearing all this, but Lalo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. Like he’d heard much worse, or experienced something as a child that had been just as bad - if not more terrible.

“You’re too kind to me Lalo, really, I don’t get you sometimes”

The elder man's smile remained, though he raised a brow as he started up the car “yeah? Well, most people don’t… but… you really don’t have to ‘get’ anything, I’m an open book”

“But…Sometimes even open books can be hard to understand if there’s a deeper meaning beneath the surface, don’t you think?”

He hummed at that, and brushed it off as though it were something that happened with everyone. By the time you got to work, you had a few minutes to spare. When you got out and turned to the entrance (he had parked- much to your distaste- at the very front of the building like a taxi would when dropping someone off) he rolled down his window, an arm leaning over the edge.

You sigh, and walk back over, leaning down with your hand against the doorframe. “Not even a goodbye kiss from my girl hm?” Lalo mused, and you rolled your eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste, quick kiss to his lips. He followed by pecking your own a few times, his hand coming to your hair. You sigh against him, and keep your lips against his for a little longer. With your eyes closed and the sliding doors behind you, it’s almost easy to forget where you are.

But, inevitably someone clears their throat, it’s Jen, smoking a cigarette a few paces away. Her jaw slack.

You wipe the smudged lip gloss against the inside of your sleeve and bid Lalo another goodbye. He waves you off and beeps before reversing and turning out back onto the main road.

“What was that?” Jen finally manages, stubbing out a cigarette with her pumps. You scoff, “What was what?” the flush of your cheeks giving everything away. You didn’t even have to say anything incriminating, she knew exactly what was going on.

“I guess he’s not bad on the eyes, but perhaps a little old for you though?”

“Old… Lalo’s not old,” you rebuke her argument, and she laughs at how defensive you get over something so trivial as his age. “Besides we’re just friends”

Jen laughs out loud, walking with you through the front door and to the desk where you both sign in. Her messy signature scrawled beneath your own. “Yeah because I tongue all my friends in public, at WORK no less…, if management found out you were fraternising with a patient's nephew…” she hissed through her teeth, and you slapped her shoulder, not hard, but as if to tell her to lower her voice. “What’s he like anyway? I mean… lookin at him, he looks like he knows how to fuck. Maybe I’ll hit him up after you’re finished with him.”

“Jen, seriously? please don’t tell anyone, it’s nothing serious, he just… he just took me out for a meal to thank me for taking care of Hector, and the sex thing-“ you feel your cheeks and they’re hotter than they were before “we- we didn’t even do anything it was just dinner.”

“Ah so you’re on a first name basis with his relatives now too? Whatever happened to Señor Salamanca?”

“Oh it’s - he won’t be here long anyway… he’s only visiting whilst Hector gets better”

When you both reach the staff room, you place your things in the locker you’ve had since you’d started working at Casa Tranquila, and sanitise your hands with the small bottle you carry with you in your purse. “Yeah, if he gets better, the guys a veggie, he has one foot in the grave and the other on Stephen Hawking’s thro-“

BANG. the sound of metal against metal echoes around the quiet room, most of your coworkers have started their early duties… many of which involved cooking and serving the food to residents and waking those who haven’t already woken up.

“Can you shut up, don’t talk about Hector like that. What the fuck is wrong with you today, Jen?” For a moment, in your burst of rage, she looks shocked. But when that subsides your smoking buddy is overwhelmed by a hollow twang of fear that leaves her mouth dry and her palms sweaty. She hadn’t seen you burst like that before over a joke. “Damn okay, don’t have to get pissy about it… it’s just a damn joke”

“No Jen, I do.” You inhale sharply, as though to prepare yourself “I’m fucking sick of it, why do you think it’s okay to make jokes like that? He’s sick, god knows how terrifying it must be to-to not be able to do anything” Perhaps you’re not only angry about Jennifer’s incredibly ableist comment about Hector, but also iritatied by her constant interference with the personal life you’d only just begun living.

“My sex life is also non of your fucking business. I’m not friends with people like you, I don’t need friends that are horrible people. You give me cigarettes and I give you cigarettes” her jaw falls slack momentarily, as you continue with your monologue. “Our relationship is transactional, and if you think it’s anything more, then I’d get the doctor to take a look at your head, because that’s fucking delusional. You think you can talk about people like that and call yourself my friend? No way.”

“It was a joke-“

“A joke, not a joke, people say offensive shit all the time and use it being a ‘ joke ‘ as some sort of cheap cover up. If you’re going to be a prick, own it, because coming up with excuses like that makes you look absolutely pathetic.”

You think you see tears pool at the older woman’s waterline. She throws her stuff into her locker and sniffles against her sleeve. For a moment you feel bad,

but that brief moment of guilt is washed away when she storms off to go and wake up Sandy and Cheryl.

It’s a bit ridiculous, how Jen felt as though she could talk like that and not expect someone to say something. She’d been saying things like that about residents, Pearl, Dorothy, Stephen, for quite some time. It had been getting on your nerves for so long, but your growing nicotine addiction outweighed your courage to say anything. Though perhaps it had been your relationship with Lalo that made you feel so strongly about the way Jen had joked about Hector's state.

At 11, you found yourself once again sat by the elder Salamanca's side. Everything Lalo had told you about him at the park, the stories, they made you smile and filled you with a bittersweet sadness that he couldn’t elaborate himself. Supposedly, the man had once been quite wild, though a part of you wondered if that was before or after they’d established the family's restaurant business down in Mexico. It didn’t seem to fit Hector as well as it did Lalo, considering his amazing cooking skills. Perhaps he specialised in something else, and it were Lalo’s parents- his mother and father - that’d begun it. He never mentioned them, only ever talking about Hector. It made you curious, but at the same time you understood how painful it could be talking about family.

“Are you hungry? I can go and get you something to eat, breakfast didn’t look all that appetising today..” shifting forward in your seat, you place your book down and keep your eyes set on the elder Salamanca. Who shakes his finger over the bell for a few seconds before striking it. The sound echoed around the rec room, and you smiled, nodding. “It’ll probably have to be something soft, I hope you don’t mind… is that alright?” He rings again, his lips wriggling as he looks at you pleadingly behind his eyes. It’s hard to imagine that only a few decades ago this man was dunking his nephews heads underwater- a strange form of affection, but affection at that.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You ladle some birria for the old man and add a few herbs atop the chunks of soft veg that float on the surface. It smelled amazing, and your stomach even grumbles when you plug in the handheld blender and adjust the settings. The low buzz and vibration from the blender head when you apply pressure into the bowl reminds you of your phone, not the new one that Lalo had bought for you, but the one he had snapped and tossed to the back of his car. A fancier, much nicer car than the one you drove to and from work, day in and day out. The trill of the blender against the ceramic bowl for a second brings you back to that embarrassing moment where you broke down, and you feel your grip tighten. You rub your thumb against the tiny silicone mounds and even if you don't want to, with your other hand steadying the bowl, you imagine red. Red soup? Thick and churning in a bowl, little slug-like clots forming in the pool.

And then, as you stare out, a hand places itself upon your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? That soups starting to look like… well.. Dishwater”

It's Neil. You flash a smile up in his direction. It’s sweet, kind, and you even think you see him blush a little. Though that could just be a part of his naturally pasty, ruddy complexion.

“Actuallly, Neil, Birria is a sort of stew,” he rolls his eyes at your reply, “although i guess…” tapping the head of the blender against the rim of the bowl, you hand it to him and he graciously accepts. “ I guess this is more of a soup now… oh well,”

Neil chuckles and flicks some of the birria from his fingers, his laugh sounds a little forced, you think, as you grab a pinch of parsley and use it to garnish the surface of the birria-soup.

“I’m sure Salamanca won’t care, tastes good today I bet, Kev’s on cooking duty.”

“Yeah? Well that sounds swell, Neil.” you say, dismissively grabbing a silver spoon, tossing your head back in an attempt to move hair from your face. “Well, i’ll be seeing you”

You turn and start toward the swinging canteen doors, but he calls after you- even goes to grab your sleeve.

“wait - i- do you wanna go grab something to eat later? Dinner, maybe?”

For his own sake you stand and hum, thinking through your very scarce agenda for the evening. “I'm sorry Neil, I’m out tonight but maybe some other time, yeah?”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

After spoon feeding Hector (which, to your dismay, you think he enjoyed a bit too much) you use the majority of your break to read more of ‘the count of monte cristo’, and the remaining quarter to text Lalo Salamanca.

‘Hey Lalo :) ‘

He replies relatively quickly.

‘Hola, querida, you good?’

As your eyes wander along the message, you smile to yourself- you can’t help it. Everytime you read his messages you can just imagine the deep rumbling of his voice, and even worse the feeling of your head against his chest.

‘Yeah just on break :)’

He doesn't reply for a bit, and instead, your phone goes off in the middle of the rec room. You silence it quickly, muttering ‘sorry’ beneath your breath to the few people sitting inside on such a hot day. Hector stares at you for a second too long, and you have a weird feeling from within your gut that he somehow knows what you and his nephew are up to, like Lalo said he sould. It was silly, really. How embarrassed and flustered you felt, but nonetheless, despite your age it did feel as though an adult had just walked in on you and your secret, ‘not-so-boyfriend’ boyfriend. You were 17 years old again, hiding away in your room holding hands beneath the covers.

Once having slipped through the back doors and into the smoking area, you lift the phone to your ear. He’s the first to speak, and the nerves from a moment ago instantly subside at the sound of his voice.

“Buenas tardes amor, how’re you hm? Bet tio has been keeping you on your feet”

“Well,” you begin, leaning up against the outside wall, a good few metres away from the rec room. “You’d be right, in his own way your tio keeps me very busy- almost like he doesn’t want me spending time with any of the other residents.”

Lalo chuckles, and mutters something fast in his native tongue that you don’t quite grab. “Ah same old tio, the guy can pick em’”

You laugh to yourself, although it's more of a huff as you bashfully straighten out your clothes to keep your hands busy. “Yeah? Well, i guess you two have a similar taste in women.”

“Hmm sorta, though i- he doesn’t like you in the same way i like you, i think.” you imagine Lalo scratching at his moustache as he speaks through the phone. “He just- he enjoys your company, no? And i mean… he may be paralysed but the guy isn’t blind, he can tell the.. What’s the saying again… the wheat..”

“Wheat from the chaff, i think is what you’re looking for, Lalo” you say, and he echoes it back. You can’t get over how animated he sounds, even through the phone.

“Si, niña inteligenteeee!… you’re speedy, huh? Gotta be all that reading you do”

You raise a hand and cup your cheek to find it warm - in spite of the shade in which you stand. You can hear his smile as he talks and visualise what he’s doing - probably cooking at the restaurant, maybe driving somewhere.

“I guess, you should let me read to you.. it might help you get a good night sleep, a few residents in here like when i read to them”

“Someones feeling cocky today, are you tryna call me old, again?”

fuck. “I didnt mean it like that-”

He bursts out laughing from his end, and you realise from yours how his laugh sometimes reminds you of a disney villain. Damn, if Lalo were a disney villain, he’d be a sexy one. “I’m just teasing you bebita… though you did say you like em old…”

Scoffing, you lean your head back against the wall “Not that old, Lalo.”

He’s silent for a moment and a quiet ‘yeah’ falls past his lips in a sigh.

“hey so i was wondering, princesa…” you grin at the nickname, cheeks flushed as you weave the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“How about you stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook dinner, we can watch one of those old movies… be nice, get to know each other a bit better”

You hum to yourself - as though you actually had to think about what the answer would be. “Hmm sure, I can do that… though first you’re gonna have to drop me back at my place so I can get my things ready”

“Not a problem, what do you want for dinner? I’ll have to go pick up some ingredients…”

“Surprise me”

A loud creaking sound erupted from behind you, and you watched as Neill wheeled out a few of the residents into the warm Albuquerque air. You waved a hand to him, as Lalo continued to talk from his end of the phone. You couldn’t quite pick up what he’d been saying, yet when you brought your attention back to him, he seemed almost aware of your distraction.

“You there?”

“Yeah sorry, just work… I might have to go but, I’ll see you later alright? Sorry I couldn’t talk for longer… gotta start preparing lunch for the rest of the residents”

Lalo hummed and you could feel the warmth of his smile through the receiver, his free hand gripping the leather wheel.

“Don’t apologise, hermosa. You’re a busy woman, I like that.”

You blush- biting at your fingernails as Lalo’s thick voice thaws at your burning anxiety- leaving you vulnerable in a similar way to how he had last night, with his head between your thighs.

“You’re too sweet Lalo… I’ll talk to you later,”

“Of course, hasta luego mi amor”

With that you hear the phone beep, just as Hector's pushed outside by Neil, you slip your phone into your pocket and straighten out your uniform.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You sent him a quick text once your shift was over. It was at times like this that you savoured your flexible hours and the fact you rarely - if ever - handled the Night Shift. Mainly because you thought it was unbelievably boring, but also because - despite the contents of your day - you enjoyed staying on your toes at all times. What was the point in working as a caretaker for the elderly if the elderly were all sleeping?

You’d been waiting outside Casa Tranquila for what felt like hours- but when you looked at your watch, it had only really been 15 minutes. Still, somewhat strange considering Lalo was almost always on time- sometimes even early just to surprise you - whenever he’d pick you up… like that time he took you to the park.

Having neglected your jacket at home, you retreated inside and sat in the waiting room- intended for visitors who had to sign paperwork of some sort before entering. It felt like it went unused a lot of the time, but for moments like this it helped.

Although, you’d much rather be sat in Lalo’s car, his hand on your thigh as he drove with such effortless skill through the streets of New Mexico.

It felt as though with every passing minute you looked to check your cell phone. It was new, so it’s not like you weren’t receiving his attempts to contact you, right?

At 8:45pm, your phone began to vibrate against your calf- which was now pulled up alongside the other on the cloth sofa. The LED call screen flashed up at your tired, sunken eyes: ‘unknown’ scrawled in pixelated letters that had your stomach drop to your feet.

Hesitantly, you flipped the cover and raised the cell to your ear- you couldn’t hear anything on the other side and instead hoped the stranger spoke up first.

“Hello?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat, the voice on the other end was gruff, they sounded almost angry, frustrated with you for something you were currently unaware of. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Nacho, its- it’s Nacho Varga- a friend of Lalo’s” you could have commented on the tone nacho used just now- as though he didn’t consider himself a friend of Lalo’s whatsoever- and far from it.

“Nacho, hey, is everything okay?”

There’s a pause before Nacho hums from his side of the phone and you know by the moment of silence - where the man on the other end tried to think of how to answer - that something must have happened.

“Nacho? What is it? Tell me I swear to god I’ve been-“

“Lalo, it’s Lalo. He’s in prison.”

[slightlyunconventional]

Here goes:, because this has been swimming around in my head:

K/az has injured his arm(s) on their last job. He’s sore, having trouble moving it, it's in a sling, etc., something like that.

And on top of it all, for reasons of your choice, he’s SUPER sneezy.

I just want to read I/nej helping him tend to his nose. Since K/az can't reach it himself (or he can but not without immense amounts of pain). Like, I/nej rubbing his nose gently for him, massaging his nostrils through cloth to help him sneeze or not sneeze, soothing the itch, cleaning it up--anything, just give me I/nej tending to Kaz’s super sneezy irritated nose ^__^; only if you like

THANK YOU for this prompt i adore it so much and i genuinely had so much fun writing this! i hope you enjoy :D

assistance (basically, k/az is a TOTAL mess and i/nej is lovely as usual)

After a nasty run-in with some thugs from a rival club during a job gone sour, K/az found himself in quite the predicament. The kind of predicament that meant both of his arms were out of action. To his credit, he’d held up his own against the gang for a surprisingly long time but still walked away with a broken wrist and a very painful forearm that was most likely fractured - not to mention the sizeable purple bruise he was sporting on his jaw. 

K/az threw open the door and stomped into the Slat looking positively bedraggled. His hat had been discarded somewhere amidst the conflict. 

“It was twenty versus one! I can’t believe he wouldn’t let us get involved!” 

“What, and blow our own cover? Did you want us to die?”

“He probably died!”

“Saints, J/es, N/ina, calm down. He was putting up a good fight, I’m sure he’ll be- oh, K/az,” I/nej said, spotting K/az as he entered the room. She stood up from the table where J/esper and N/ina were bickering and approached the rain-soaked man.

“Yes, I took care of them all,” Kaz rasped, answering Inej’s question before she could even ask it. 

The gap between them was almost closed as Inej stepped forward, looking closely at his face. 

“Are you okay?” she dared to ask.

Kaz let his expression soften at her words.

“I’m okay,” he hesitated, “well, I’ll be okay.”

Concern blossomed in Inej’s eyes like the petals of a crocus.

“You know that’s not what I want to hear.”

Kaz remained silent. He was suddenly acutely aware of each and every droplet of water sliding from his hair and onto the floor, and the way his sodden clothes clung to his skin, and the warmth he felt in his cheeks from Inej’s proximity even under the sting of a fresh bruise. Another drop of rain slipped from Kaz’s mess of soaked black hair, falling down right between their faces. Inej’s eyes tracked the droplet down as it fell to the floorboards. She lifted her gaze to meet his. The heat in Kaz’s cheeks grew, much to his resentment.

“I think you dropped something,” she said quietly, looking back down at the rain-spattered ground.

The corners of Kaz’s lips twitched. He noted the glint in Inej’s deep brown eyes.

A (surprisingly clean) towel ruined the moment by soaring right into their faces. Kaz and Inej looked up simultaneously, met by Jesper’s shit-eating grin.

“Good fight, boss? I knew you’d come out on top,” he said smugly.

“Were you not just panicking because you thought he was dead?” Nina asked with her eyebrows raised.

Inej snorted.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Nins.” 

Now it was Kaz’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “And why did you throw a towel at me?”

Jesper shrugged. “Looked like you needed it.”

Kaz sighed. He took the towel from Inej who had picked it up off the floor where it had landed. Inej clocked the way he winced when reaching his arm out.

“Thank you,” Kaz said quietly. He made his way over to the stairs, the gazes of everyone in the room like lasers on his back. Inej watched him closely and, seeing his extra-pronounced limp and the shake of the arm holding his cane with every step, decided to follow him. 

“I don’t believe I asked for an entourage.” 

“It’s not just your room that's upstairs,” Inej replied, a little too quickly. She knew Kaz didn’t believe her, but he still let her trail behind him as he ascended the stairs lopsidedly. They walked in silence until they reached Kaz’s room, when he looked back at her with a single eyebrow lifted. Inej took this as her cue to pretend to disappear into her own room. She definitely didn’t imagine the pained sigh that escaped Kaz. As soon as he’d shut his door, she slipped back out into the corridor and stood quietly outside, listening.

She heard the creak of Kaz’s chair as he lowered himself into it, then a heavy clatter on the floor.

“Shit,” muttered Kaz. The chair creaked again. Probably dropped his cane, Inej thought, strange, though, that’s not like him. The patter of the rain on the roof and windows severely hindered her ability to listen in on him, however. 

After a few moments, Inej did manage to hear a rather wet-sounding thump, presumably Kaz discarding his thick, wool greatcoat onto the floor. Another sigh. Part of her wanted to enter the room and see him, help dry his hair, hang his coat up by the window, fall asleep with her head resting on his firm shoulder, but she knew she shouldn’t. So she waited, she listened. 

“Oh, Saints,” Inej heard after a short while. She had not a second to wonder why Kaz had said that, as the next moment she heard a sound she hadn’t heard in a very long time. 

“hehH’GNKTSschew!”

She then heard what she thought was Kaz sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. He’s in pain, she realised. A million thoughts barrelled through her mind - is he sick? Injured? Both? Inej worried at her lower lip, knowing now that Kaz was in way worse condition than he was letting on. Against her better judgement, she slowly pushed open the door… right as Kaz was (trying to) stifle another harsh sneeze.

“hH’GKKTTSChhiew! Huhh…” 

The hand he used to pinch his nose was shaking slightly as he lifted it from his face. His brows were drawn tightly together and his teeth were gritted, hard - Inej had never seen him looking so pained. He looked up at Inej who was hovering in the doorway, hand still lifted cautiously in the air, as though he was scared to put it down. 

“Saints above, Kaz. You said you were fine,” Inej said with worry.

Kaz averted his eyes. “I am fine,” he replied shortly. 

Inej approached him and gently took his gloved hand in hers. 

“Don’t-” he started, teeth still gritted. He yanked his hand away instinctively. She noticed how his face paled slightly.

“What happened to your hands, Kaz?” asked Inej, quietly but firmly. Kaz still didn’t meet her gaze.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.”

Kaz hesitated. He looked down at his hand.

“Broke it. My wrist,” he muttered with reluctance, “Think the other arm’s fractured, too.”

Inej held back a gasp. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Kaz shook his head, hair still damp from the torrential rain.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” she asked incredulously, “In fact, nevermind that, we need Nina to fix-”

“No, we don’t-!” Kaz cut in. His words were tinted with a note of panic that she’d never heard before.

Inej let her shoulders lower. She sighed. “At least let me patch you up, then.”

“Fine.”

“Right. Good. I’ll get the first aid kit,” Inej said, beginning to turn away.

“-hahH’KKSCHHhiew! Oh, God, I-” Kaz sneezed wetly and openly, cringing at the mess it left on his upper lip. He raised his hand weakly to his face to cover it.

“Saints, and I’ll get some tissues. Try not to move your arms around too much, okay?” Inej said. She left the room.

-

A short while later, Inej returned to Kaz’s room, clutching a box containing the Slat’s first aid kit, as well as a rather old-looking box of tissues. He was still sitting at his desk, one arm hanging at his side, the other with its hand resting carefully on the tabletop. His nose had become significantly pinker since Inej last saw him, which was only mere minutes prior. She was greeted with another grating sneeze.

“haHH’GKKSHHhiew!”

“Bless you,” Inej offered.

“I’m sorry, I… cah-cahhn’tseemtostop-! huhH’KTSCHHh! ‘GKKSCHH! hah-hAH’KKTSCHHhiew!”

“Wow. Bless you, bless you, bless you,” Inej said with a sympathetic smile, “Oh, you’ve made a real mess of yourself there, Kaz.”

He lifted his hand to clean himself up, but tensed up at the pain. Inej leaned forward and gently helped his arm back down.

“Here, let me.”

“There’s a hahh-handker-’TSSCHhiew! Ugh. Handkerchief, in my coat.”

“That’ll be soaking wet, Kaz. I have tissues.”

She plucked a couple of tissues from the box she’d placed on Kaz’s desk and used them to gently clean up Kaz’s face. He sighed.

“You know I can do it myself,” he said thickly, voice muffled by the soft tissues in front of his face.

“I know you can, but is it going to do you any good?” Inej asked; a rhetorical question. She made sure to keep her touch on his face gentle. She knew how sensitive his nose could get. As if on cue, Inej felt Kaz’s nose flare under the tissues.

“‘Nej, I’m going to-” His breaths were rapid and shallow.

“I know.”

“But I don’t wanna sn- haHH’GKKTSCHHhew! haH’ISCHHhiew!” He cut himself off with two heavy, messy sneezes, right into the tissues in Inej’s hand. “Saints, I’m sorry,” he added breathlessly.

“Bless you, bless you. It’s okay.” Inej gently cleaned his face once again. The pure exhaustion in his coffee-brown eyes sent a pang of pity through her heart.

“You really don’t need to say ‘bless you’ every… hahh… every- oh- sorry, I’m- haHH’KKSHHHhiew!”

Inej smiled. “Bless you.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. Inej tightened her hand on his face slightly.

“Blow,” she instructed. Kaz looked up at her in disbelief.

“I really don’t think that’s-”

“You heard me,” she cut in, “By the sound of those sneezes, you need it.”

The dark haired man hesitated, but eventually leaned into the tissues with a sigh, and blew his nose heavily. Inej smiled sympathetically. Kaz emerged looking positively mortified.

“Never doing that again,” he muttered.

“You wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t insist on taking on that entire gang on your own,” Inej pointed out. Kaz shot her a look. She tilted her head at him, still smiling softly. “Now let’s get you bandaged up, okay?”

He nodded. Inej opened the first-aid box and pulled out a roll of wide bandages.

“Roll up your sleeve for me,” she said gently. He obliged.

Inej got to work wrapping his broken wrist in bandages - it was the best she could do, considering Kaz refused to let Nina see to him, at least for now. It wasn’t long before Kaz’s breath caught again. He turned his head away from Inej, trying his best to keep his hand still as she tended to it.

“Sorry- hahH’KKSCHHIEWhh!” 

“Bles-” Inej started.

Kaz shook his head. “N-not done-” he said, panting. “hAH’KTSCHHUHh!”

His whole body shook with the force of each sneeze, his shoulders tensing and legs jolting slightly upwards. Luckily, Inej had finished wrapping his broken wrist, so she could stop to once again tend to Kaz’s nose. She pressed two fresh tissues to his face and massaged his nose ever so gently. His breath caught sharply.

“Don’t, that’s too- hahH-! Too gentle, I’m g-go--huHH’GKKSCHHHh! ‘SSCHHHhiew!”

“Oh, Saints, sorry. You really can’t stop, can you?” Inej said, still cradling his face with the thick wad of tissue.

“It’s the rain, or something. Apparently it really g-gets to… to… me-'' Kaz's eyes narrowed and Inej felt his nostrils flare desperately even through the tissues. His breath hitched.

“haAHhdt-! huh-hUH-huhHh- oh, S-saints, it’s not comi- haAH-!”

“Stuck, huh?” Inej teased, “Happens to the best of us.”

Inej decided to reuse her “too-gentle” massaging technique to ease Kaz along. Perhaps it worked a little too well - he exploded into a series of tearing, messy sneezes, each outburst just barely caught in Inej’s hand.

“haAHh’GNKTSCHHhuhh! ‘KKSCHHIEW! ‘SHHHhew! hah-hAH-hAHH’KZZSCHIEWhh! ‘IZZSCHHhiew!”

He was left panting, almost unable to catch his breath. Inej reached for a few more tissues, keeping the used ones braced to Kaz’s face in case of another incident. She now held a thick wad of tissues, pressed to Kaz’s streaming reddened nose. 

“Bless you - I don’t even know how many times,” Inej said with a slight laugh. She cleaned up the rest of the mess that had gathered on his face with the tissues, all while Kaz’s cheeks turned pink in true mortification. Inej noticed this and added, “You don’t have to be embarrassed. This happens to everyone.” 

She saw Kaz’s shoulders relax slightly and he exhaled slowly.

“Saints, that was awful. I’m sor-” he started.

“Don’t apologise. You know I value being able to care for you. I’m glad you let me.”

Kaz nodded silently. He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion now clear in his face.

“Let’s get to that other arm now, shall we?”

[deus-ex-mona]

historians will say that they were ✨just rivals✨

[goldentigerfestival]

rays is so fucking good to fluri thank you rays i love you i love you so much 😭😭😭

not only is yuri's alt coloring flynn's color code but he's got the standard flynn pose and yuri was put with a group of legitimately canon pairs in this color alt

i love you so fucking much rays 😭😭😭

[pronoun-checks]

; hullo !! could I get separate pronoun checks with ix / ix / ixs / ixself, moth / moth / moths / mothself, fizz / fizze / fizzes / fizzself and if you do them 🪐 / 🪐self and 👾 / 👾self !?? All w the name Marzceline or Marz !! And for ix / ixself if you could use nonhuman terms as well that'd be great hsgwvqyavsh !! :D

; ( also hope you're having a good pride month !! Or js a good day in general /gen )

Sure thing!

ix/ixs

Wait a second, is that Marzceline? I think I see Marzceline over there! Do you see ix? Ix’s the being sitting by ixself with ixs headphones on. I wonder what ix’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Marzceline before, right? No? Ix also goes by Marz, so maybe you know ix by one of ixs other names? Really? Well, you’ll have to meet ix sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with ix. I’ve only spoken with ix once or twice, but ix seems pretty neat. You don’t see ix? Marzceline’s the creature sitting in the red chair by ixself. Do you see ix now? Yup, that’s Marzceline! Oh, hey! I think ix’s looking this way now! Do you want to go meet Marz? Sure, let’s go say hi to ix! Hey, Marz!

-

moth/moths

Wait a second, is that Marzceline? I think I see Marzceline over there! Do you see moth? Moth’s the being sitting by mothself with moths headphones on. I wonder what moth’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Marzceline before, right? No? Moth also goes by Marz, so maybe you know moth by one of moths other names? Really? Well, you’ll have to meet moth sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with moth. I’ve only spoken with moth once or twice, but moth seems pretty neat. You don’t see moth? Marzceline’s the creature sitting in the red chair by mothself. Do you see moth now? Yup, that’s Marzceline! Oh, hey! I think moth’s looking this way now! Do you want to go meet Marz? Sure, let’s go say hi to moth! Hey, Marz!

-

fizz/fizze

Wait a second, is that Marzceline? I think I see Marzceline over there! Do you see fizze? Fizz’s the being sitting by fizzself with fizzes headphones on. I wonder what fizz’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Marzceline before, right? No? Fizz also goes by Marz, so maybe you know fizze by one of fizzes other names? Really? Well, you’ll have to meet fizze sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with fizze. I’ve only spoken with fizze once or twice, but fizz seems pretty neat. You don’t see fizze? Marzceline’s the creature sitting in the red chair by fizzself. Do you see fizze now? Yup, that’s Marzceline! Oh, hey! I think fizz’s looking this way now! Do you want to go meet Marz? Sure, let’s go say hi to fizze! Hey, Marz!

-

🪐/🪐s

Wait a second, is that Marzceline? I think I see Marzceline over there! Do you see 🪐? 🪐’s the being sitting by 🪐self with 🪐s headphones on. I wonder what 🪐’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Marzceline before, right? No? 🪐 also goes by Marz, so maybe you know 🪐 by one of 🪐s other names? Really? Well, you’ll have to meet 🪐 sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with 🪐. I’ve only spoken with 🪐 once or twice, but 🪐 seems pretty neat. You don’t see 🪐? Marzceline’s the creature sitting in the red chair by 🪐self. Do you see 🪐 now? Yup, that’s Marzceline! Oh, hey! I think 🪐’s looking this way now! Do you want to go meet Marz? Sure, let’s go say hi to 🪐! Hey, Marz!

-

👾/👾s

Wait a second, is that Marzceline? I think I see Marzceline over there! Do you see 👾? 👾’s the being sitting by 👾self with 👾s headphones on. I wonder what 👾’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Marzceline before, right? No? 👾 also goes by Marz, so maybe you know 👾 by one of 👾s other names? Really? Well, you’ll have to meet 👾 sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with 👾. I’ve only spoken with 👾 once or twice, but 👾 seems pretty neat. You don’t see 👾? Marzceline’s the creature sitting in the red chair by 👾self. Do you see 👾 now? Yup, that’s Marzceline! Oh, hey! I think 👾’s looking this way now! Do you want to go meet Marz? Sure, let’s go say hi to 👾! Hey, Marz!

@thatonegaybrit

[10siglosdehistoria]

LA CRUZ PROCESIONAL DE LOTARIO

THE PROCESSIONAL CROSS OF LOTARIO

LA CROCE PROCESSIONALE DI LOTARIO

(Español / English / Italiano)

Se llama así por un sello de cristal de roca verdoso grabado cerca de su base y que lleva el nombre y el retrato del gobernante carolingio Lotario ll (835-869)

La riqueza de las cruces de procesión varía según las épocas y la riqueza de los patrocinadores. Algunas están decoradas con piedras preciosas o camafeos, mientras que otras presentan un trabajo de orfebrería.

Una de las más conocidas de todas es la cruz de Lotario, que se conserva en la catedral de Aquisgrán, en Alemania. Esta cruz fue realizada por orfebres en torno al año 1000 y utiliza un camafeo del emperador romano Augusto del siglo I para legitimar el poder imperial.

El sello de cuarzo que representa a Lotario ll tiene una inscripción latina que dice “Cristo, ayuda al rey Lotario”. Se cree que el sello, junto con el camafeo, serviría para enlazar a la dinastía lotariana con los emperadores romanos originales y afirmar que eran los representantes de Dios y del Imperio romano en la tierra.

***

It is named after a greenish rock crystal seal engraved near its base and bearing the name and portrait of the Carolingian ruler Lotarius II (835-869).

The richness of processional crosses varies according to the period and the wealth of the sponsors. Some are decorated with precious stones or cameos, while others feature gold work.

One of the best known of all is the Lotarius cross, which is preserved in Aachen Cathedral in Germany. This cross was made by goldsmiths around the year 1000 and uses a cameo of the 1st century Roman Emperor Augustus to legitimise imperial power.

The quartz seal depicting Lotarius II has a Latin inscription that reads 'Christ, help King Lotarius'. It is thought that the seal, along with the cameo, would serve to link the Lotarian dynasty to the original Roman emperors and affirm that they were the representatives of God and the Roman Empire on earth.

***

Prende il nome da un sigillo di cristallo di rocca verdastro inciso vicino alla sua base e recante il nome e il ritratto del sovrano carolingio Lotario II (835-869).

La ricchezza delle croci processionali varia a seconda del periodo e della ricchezza degli sponsor. Alcune sono decorate con pietre preziose o cammei, mentre altre presentano lavorazioni in oro.

Una delle più note è la croce di Lotario, conservata nella cattedrale di Aquisgrana in Germania. Questa croce fu realizzata da orafi intorno all'anno 1000 e utilizza un cammeo dell'imperatore romano Augusto del I secolo per legittimare il potere imperiale.

Il sigillo di quarzo raffigurante Lotario II reca un'iscrizione latina che recita "Cristo, aiuta il re Lotario". Si pensa che il sigillo, insieme al cammeo, servisse a collegare la dinastia dei Lotari agli imperatori romani originari e ad affermare che essi erano i rappresentanti di Dio e dell'Impero romano sulla terra.

Fuente: Historia y arte de los pueblos.

[absolute-snzaster]

ok I'm officially tired of waiting for literally any other person on snzblr to get into the same weirdly specific visual novels as me so fuck it, here's the a/ndromeda s/ix snzcanons that literally no one asked for! under the cut because I write so many fucking words oh my god

Cal:

dad sneezes, because of course he does

fully vocalized, throaty, with two separate and clearly enunciated syllables

literally sounds like "AAAH–CHOOO!" what can I say, the man's a classic.

probably owns a fucking monogrammed handkerchief. or several

kind of looks like he's allergic to life but I feel like he'd lose his voice from all the dad sneezing so idk

one million percent the kind of stuffy, straightlaced bitch you want to see get absolutely wrecked by the worst stress cold of his life

Damon:

the tiniest, highest-pitched, most adorable little kitten sneezes you could possibly imagine

HATES it.

can, will and has threatened the life of anyone who dares to mention it

this does not stop at least 50% of the crew from doing so anyway.

regularly.

June:

soft, wet, whispery/unvocalized sneezes

occasionally has (equally whispery) hitchy buildups, but never hitches more than twice per sneeze

probably the type to sneeze into cupped hands. or a crumpled tissue/several tissues/handkerchief in said hands

sniffly, probably rubs his nose a lot

has allergies and specifically stifles his allergy sneezes for whatever reason.

stifles by pressing one finger under his nose and somehow it actually works?

this might just be because he's my number one favorite best guy (sobbing crying I love him so much ough) but I could totally see him having the kink and being SUPER embarrassed about it. just so blushy and flustered and aaaaaa 🥰🥰🥰

I feel like I had another thought about this but I forgot it bc too busy thinking about June blushing 😊

he would just have the shyest smile after he sneezed like especially if somebody blessed him oh my GOD I would die for him my sweet sweet boy

Ryona:

long, breathy buildups and soft, satisfying releases

doesn't necessarily have the kink, but does seem like the type to really just enjoy a good sneeze

I could see her having the kink tho. just bc she probably knows how to cure a cold in like 3 minutes if she wanted to

also probably knows what plants to use to make people sneeze... 👀

I picture her sneezing into tissues, but like... weirdly oversized tissues. just for the Aesthetic™

Aya:

soft, rapid fits

uses tissues. will give anyone shit for using anything else (hands/sleeves/etc because she thinks it's gross, and handkerchiefs because she thinks they're dorky :PPP )

sneezes eight times in a row, like, regularly. it's specifically eight

always looks surprised before/between/after sneezes

probably allergic to cats. probably puts her face on them anyway

would tease a partner to within an inch of their life if she found out they had the kink, and then indulge the almighty fuck out of it. like possibly to the point where it'd be like kind of a lot for them actually. it's really just another form of teasing

she'd fucking love that she could turn someone on just by sneezing tho

Bash:

really snotty colds. probably gets a pretty bad cough with them too

absolutely the type to get laid up with man flu. just the most melodramatic when he's sick

probably goes to Ryona the second he gets a cold all sniffling and going "helllllllllp :("

can make his tattoos flash when he sneezes as a party trick but disables it when he has a cold bc it makes his head hurt

once accidentally did said party trick during sex. liked it a weird amount

not above using his grease rags as snot rags when nobody's looking

maybe even when they are looking, honestly.

Vexx:

angry, breathless fits that leave him doubled over and gasping every time

almost sounds like coughing... or snarling

sneezes into a loosely closed fist. with gloves on, usually

[redacted] used to worry about him when he got fits and would always try to rub his back and lend him a handkerchief

he would always try to laugh and act like he was way too cool and sexy to use a handkerchief.

he still has one of the handkerchiefs

[harri-etvane]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Ooooh hello anon - what a nice thing to do!

Lost in the Light - a 7k multi-chapter collection of scenes aiming to evoke a little moment of lightness here and there, in the middle of all the turmoil. It's the first multi-chapter thing I've ever posted on The Internet, and I'm fairly proud of it.

Still a trace of body paint - The very first thing I ever wrote & posted on the internet - it has the least kudos of anything I've put onto AO3, but I have a soft spot for it.

And early though the laurel grows - you want some angst with that fic? have a bit extra x (I am.... considering re-writing this one day into something a bit more... coherent / plot heavy because it started as a one shot and ended up a 5.5k mess of faintly interlinking scenes from different POVs lol) I do really like it though; H/C is my weakness.

Fidelis Et Verax - This is one that I actually really enjoy writing when I get the inspiration! Maks & Volodymyr are an interesting partnership.

With patient eyes - literally the most self indulgent fluff I've ever written and had the audacity to post on the internet

[slightlyunconventional]

hello friends 🫶🏻 more k/az fic for you all !! loved writing this one and i might even go so far as to say im pretty proud of it! wow!! anyway i hope you enjoy reading more k/az torture <3

spices (a.k.a. writer is horny for holdbacks and absolutely loves ravaging pretty boys)

Kaz looked up in disinterest from the fan of playing cards in his hand. The rowdiness of this card game was exhausting - Jesper and Nina shrieking in delight every time they won a single thing, Matthias grunting Fjerdan curse words because he didn't understand the game, Wylan showing Jesper his hand every thirty seconds because he also didn't understand the game - and Kaz was sick of it. The relief that washed over him when he heard Inej call his name from the kitchen was almost palpable. He sighed tiredly and slammed his hand face-up onto the table (a Royal Flush, might I add) and strode through to the kitchen, revelling in the outcry of the others on the table at his win.

The kitchen of the Slat was a rundown room, all battered counters and barely functional appliances, but Inej made it feel homely, warm. Kaz thought she did that to any room, though. He felt his shoulders ease and the day's stress begin to fade as he gazed at her slight form, dark hair twisted easily into a sleek braid which cascaded down the bronze of her back and shoulders. She looked totally in her element as she cooked, her small hands making fine work of slicing vegetables and preparing various cuts of meat, all the while she hummed a gentle tune that met Kaz's ears like the loving touch of a hand in your own.

"You called," he said, softly. Inej turned to face him with a smile.

"Yes," she said, "I just needed another pair of hands."

Kaz nodded. "What can I do?"

Inej gestured to an old wooden board with various vegetables lined up across it. "Could you chop those up for me, please?" she asked, voice kind and melodic, "I just have to keep an eye on this pot, so it doesn't boil over."

"Of course."

Admittedly, Kaz wasn't the best at anything that went on in kitchens. He'd never really had any practise, apart from in far gone years of youth - years which he had elected to forget - but he tried his best nonetheless. He slid off his gloves tentatively and lay them on a clean section of the counter, then picked up a knife and got to work. Between the clacks of the knife on the board he stole glances over at Inej, who was stirring a large pot on the top of the stove. His haphazardly cut vegetables were nothing in comparison to the perfectly even slices she had already produced.

Kaz heard the sizzle of the pot as Inej added a variety of spices, ones he knew to be Suli from his listening to Inej's stories about her parents and childhood. The air became heavy with their strong scent. He tried not to focus on the delicate work of her hands but instead on the not-so-delicate work of his hands. They shook slightly as he levered the knife up and down, and it took a moment or two to register why. His head felt a tad light, and he found himself relying slightly more on his mouth for breathing, and suddenly, like a fire roaring to life, a burning, incessant tickle bloomed within his sinuses. He'd never felt anything like it - the itch was like an inferno, its flames licking at his nostrils and pricking tears into the corners of his eyes, shallowing his breaths into short, sharp, irritated hitches.

"-hiih-hiHh-hHH-hhiiIHh-!"

Kaz's chest stuttered desperately as he fought hard to keep the impending sneeze at bay. His breathing now came out in rapid gasps - he knew he couldn't hold out for much longer but he was still willing to try.

He lifted his free hand shakily to his face, pressing two slender knuckles firmly against his nose, and fought to regulate his unsteady breathing. The grip he had on the knife in his other hand had tightened as he struggled against his nose. Speaking of his nose, the fiery tickle from before had spread like wildfire in his sinuses, and was creeping its way into the back of his throat, threatening to tease out the irritated fit he was trying so desperately to hold back. He knew it would inevitably be no use trying to fight it, but he did value the last shreds of his dignity very much.

The aroma of the spices in the air only seemed to be getting stronger as the steam from the pots on the stove carried the scent throughout the air. Kaz's eyes were streaming now, as his nose would be had it not been for the firm press of his knuckles against its tender, sensitive surface. It was all he could do to blink back irritated tears and continue trying to cut Inej's vegetables clumsily with just one hand. He could feel his nose twitching instinctively under the press of his fingers, begging to be freed of its torture. Kaz would do no such thing.

"h-hiiHHh... hHaAAhh-!?"

Each sharp intake of breath was threatening, burning, like he could explode at any moment.

A particularly strongly scented spice made its way into the air. The tickle in Kaz's nostrils quickly peaked, becoming so fiery, and so, so unbearable, that he dropped the knife he held with a clatter and clamped his hand over his nose, refusing to back down. His breaths became vocal, desperate, almost whining hitches that pled for release as he fought and fought against his instinct. He brought a single, shaking hand up to his eyes to weakly wipe the hot tears from them, too caught up in the haze of trying his damnedest not to sneeze that he didn't notice Inej approaching him from behind.

That was, until, she placed a gentle hand onto his upper arm.

"Kaz," she said, "let yourself sneeze."

Kaz's glassy, streaming eyes met hers, his brows furrowed deeply and his chest still stuttering desperately.

"B-buhhht, I c-can't... don't... don't- hiihHh--wantto-kKSHHHhiiew! hah-hAH-haHiiIHh'KSCHHhiih! 'kKSSCHHhiiewh! -sSHHhiihh! HaAHh'KKISCHHhiew! Oh, I'm... I c-cahh-haAHh'ASCHHhiew! 'ISCHHhih!"

The fit started pitchy and rapid, with sneeze after sneeze barreling its way out of Kaz, with barely time for a breath in between - and they just wouldn't seem to stop. He gasped again, unable to do anything but hover his shaking hand in front of his face in a last ditch attempt to cover the violent sneezes volleying through him.

"-haAHHSCHHHhiew! huh-huUHh'hkKSCHHhiihh! 'KKSHHHhiewh! ...it's the... it- haAHhiihHh-... the sp-hehHAh'ISCHHhiew! S-sorr-ISCHHhiih!"

Kaz's sneezes rapidly grew messier and more vocal, as though he'd been holding them off for a century. Each outburst snapped him forward at the waist and left a fine mist of spray upon the air - and there was nothing he could do but let it happen.

"The spices, I know," said Inej. Kaz felt her hands on his shoulders and she began to guide him towards the door.

"W-wait, I'm nohhiIHh-! Not done--! hiihHH'SCHHhiew! haAh... hah-haheHh..."

"You need to get out of here, Kaz. The sooner you get out and get cleaned up - and for Saints' sake blow your nose - the sooner this will stop."

"haAHHSHHhiew!"

"Exactly. Now let's get you to the bathroom," Inej said, guiding him by the shoulders out of the kitchen. Amidst his incessant sneezing, he heard Inej say, "Not a word," to the others sat at the table, who had long since abandoned their card game in favour of eavesdropping on Kaz's issue.

Kaz's head was spinning when Inej sat him down on the lid of the toilet. The entire way from the kitchen to the bathroom, Kaz was sneezing, over and over, aimed directly downwards so as a result each explosion sent spray right down his front. The tickle in his nose still burned fierce but he managed to hold off the next few outbursts in order to regain stability.

"Saints, Kaz," Inej said incredulously. He looked up at her, eyes still shining with irritated tears, right as his breath snagged in his throat and he snapped forward with three harsh sneezes.

"haAHh'sSCHHhiew! 'aAHSHHhiew! huhh-hUHiihH'KSCHHhiih!"

Inej set herself to looking for a box of tissues in the bathroom cupboards, while Kaz sat pitifully on the toilet seat, sneezing lazily into the open air. After a short fit of about five sneezes, he managed to catch himself a break, though the sneezing was replaced by incessant soft sniffling. Inej turned back to him and pressed a wad of tissues into his hand.

"You look awful," she said matter-of-factly, "now, blow your nose."

Kaz obeyed. He put his face into the tissues, glad for something to cover himself with, and blew his nose. The heavy congestion which had taken up residence in his sinuses shifted, triggering a fit of pitchy sneezes into the tissues.

"haAHh'iISCHH-hiew! 'huhHiisSCHHh! 'hiisSHHiew-isSCHhiiewh!"

He finished the set with a miserable series of sniffles.

"Bless you. That was adorable," Inej said, "Spices made you so itchy, huh?"

Kaz's only response was another sneeze.

"huUHh'iiSCHHhuh!" He wiped at his nose with the tissues in his hand, still sniffing wetly. "Not adorable," he said thickly. Inej breathed out a laugh.

"Sure you're not," she replied. "At least your sneezing is slowing down now. Bless you again, by the way."

Kaz tilted his head. "But I'm not g- oh. huH-hiiHh'sSCHHhiiewh! h-haAHh..."

"Another bless you might be in order," Inej said.

"hhaAHhh'kKSHHhuh!" He sniffled thickly again.

"Called it," said Inej with a smirk. Kaz rolled his watery eyes.

"Well I knew that one was coming."

[brawler1993]

The Entertainment Dome Episode 227 - 19 Inches of Venom

This week on The Entertainment Dome, James is thrilled to hear updates on Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines 2, we discuss the announcement of Final Fantasy XVI‘s DLC and various Final Fantasy rumours, and we mourn Saints Row developer Volition being shut down.