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maliro-t · 7 months ago

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Early on in my second BG3 playthrough, I had my pocket picked by Silfy at the Emerald Grove, and when Mol returned my things, they came in the following container:

Pickpocket's Bag: "A warning is embroidered in shaky letters on the inside flap- 'HANDS OFF'."

There was a lovely bit of irony to this whole affair, given that my Tav was an urchin that grew up on the streets of the city running similar cons, and keeping similar stashes. He was endeared by them (and by the bag), and I'm overly sentimental, so I started collecting items that I thought would have stood out to him in this sack, something I added to through the end of the game. Just trinkets and letters; the kinds of things that didn't feel right to just sell or lose in an overfull chest. Little bits of other people's lives that he wanted to remember.

So, to give myself something to look back on, the following is an account of its contents by the end (excluding some utility items I kept in there for easy access), and some musings on each.

Kanon's Handkerchief: "Its owner frequently insisted he didn't need this hand-cut linen square, but his sister kept it to hand in case his allergies kicked up."

Found on the body of the tiefling Arka, on an overlook between Moonhaven and the goblin camp. He thoughtlessly encouraged her push for revenge. He wished he had told her to live instead.

Mirkon's Story: "Mirkon's present to you, describing how you saved him from the harpies, and how he thinks you were 'ammazeing'."

Once, there was a boy on a beech. he saw there was a harpie nest. He was a very good climer. he wantet to clime to the top and steel from the harpie nest. But the harpie was very mean. She sang a song and the boy forgot wat he was doing. But then an adventurer passed by. The adventurer was very strong and killed the harpie in one blow and safed the boy. The boy was very cold and scared. He was standing in the water so he was very cold. But the adventurer was ammazeing. The boy wanted to be like the adventurer. He wanted to be strong and safe peopple and never be scared egain. Just like the adventurer. THE END

A little scrap of someone else's wonder. Nothing else like it.

Brass locket: "Slightly tarnished and opened with a mere flick of the thumb."

Found on the body of one of Aradin's crew; an adventurer that died at the gate to the grove. It seemed important somehow.

Dog Collar: "An old, leather collar for a large dog. The name 'Myrna' is engraved on the tag, surrounded by a plethora of indecipherable runes."

Someone's still thinking of her, all the way down there.

Guiding Light: "Used by the previous owner to access both the Underdark's darkest corners and her own basement, this ring seems to reflect light where there should be none."

Torn-Out Paper: "A torn strip of paper with two lines of barley legible script."

[The writing on this torn-out strip of paper is shaky and blotted with tears, making it barely legible.] The silence stretches on- I'm all alone. Please, can hold your hands, for just a while?

Patched Parchment: "A small poem about love and loss inscribed in this torn paper."

[The paper is torn and patched in many places, as if it was well-used but treasured. On it is a small poem without a name.] These empty sheets are all that's left of you. The last of all the thoughtless gifts you gave. I will hold onto them; it's all that I can do. I can't throw them away; I've never been that brave.

Vestiges of Lenore. He never had a handle on pretty words like this. The arcane tower was striking, even as someone with little knowledge of or interest in magic. Sometimes you enter a place and can sense the fingerprints of the people who lived there all over it, take in their joy and their pain and their loss as if it were your own, and leave feeling like you've lost a friend even though you never met them.

Sending Shell: "Faint whispers creep from this Sending Shell when you hold it close, yet the method of sending messages from it is unclear."

Purchased from Mattis at Last Light Inn. You can't knock the kid's hustle in even the darkest of times. And besides, this thing has got to work eventually, right? It's pretty, if nothing else.

Stuffed Bear: "This bear- oft torn and repaired- seems one good squeeze away from crumbling into mouldered stuffing and threadbare patchwork."

Found abandoned on the road through the Shadow-Cursed Lands amongst other belongings likely left by refugees. He's sure someone is missing it. He tries hard not to think about the shadow vestiges.

True Love's Caress: "The most pragmatic and courageous lover ever known was, of course, Sorcha MacTire, for whom the popular hairstyle is named, and for whom many an extremely sappy poem has been written (most of them comparing her to geography)."

One of a magical pair of rings connected by a warding bond, the other of which he never found. He's a romantic at heart, in his own way. The idea of it was sweet, anyways.

Barnabus' Collar: "Necklace the Gnoll Master gave Barnabus when she first met him."

He watched this creature tear itself apart, unable to fulfill its master's saccharine-voiced requests. Even a monster deserved better than to be twisted like that. It mattered that it had a name, even if it was given by her.

One Becomes Many: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

In each of us is more than what we are; Parts and multitudes that form our thoughts, desires, nature itself. Manifold are the creatures inside you- and what you can become when you speak my words is all your parts made manifest. Your weakness can become strength if it is made legion: quaking hearts can find courage in their numbers, the lowliest vermin can humble a goliath if they stand as an army, and a ruin can become a kingdom for one soul made many. Speak Itori mustag thrice. Become your finest self- all of them Raphael.

Perhaps he kept this one as a warning of what becomes of dealing with devils. Or, on the other hand, out of enticement. But maybe there was just something about a man so desperate to live that he split himself into a hoard of vermin- left to be the final wretched survivors worshiping at the ruined altar of spiteful god- that felt worth mourning.

Crumpled Note: "A plain, unadorned note."

Papa, I love you. LOVE FROM IZ

How quickly we lose things, he thinks, carefully folding one more note into a side pocket. How desperate we are to remember them as they were.

Arfur's Private Musings: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

[An unfinished love story, handwritten by Arfur Gregorio, whose name is attached to the bottom of every page.] Her ample bosoms fluttered like doves' fingers, brushing against his nails. The very ends of his moustache stood to attention as the fire stirred behind his eyes. No doubt this was love. Love, ah love! The stuff that dreams are made of. It made him sweat to think of it- the graceful, enduring, blossoming magnitude of what it all, the priceless, breathlesss, weightless, sheer romping joy of it..."

Sometimes you intimidate a 'philanthropist' into surrendering his house to squatting refugees, discover his involvement in an elaborate plot to kill a bunch of kids, scare him into skipping town, go through all of his shit, and keep his half-written smut as a hilarious trophy to fondly remember him by. You know. That universal experience that everyone has.

Guild Ring: "Calishite emeralds are embedded in this heavy silver ring"

A souvenir from past and present.

Inklings: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

[This novel is bookmarked on a page lined with markings; its reader seems to have underscored certain parts for emphasis] After all, there's no point in denying the undeniable, which, until that moment, I had obscured with the million minor tasks by which I measured my life. Yes, the polishing, the scrubbing, the pouring of wine and tea and deference into my master's cup- all of it had surrounded and obscured the essential truth of my life, like a phalanx now fallen. I had wasted my years, one by one, and now there were hardly any left to me at all.

Garlow's Retirement Plan: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

List of Things To Do: -Climb a tree -Have a truly exceptional sandwich -Spend a whole day reading -Visit Waterdeep -Get a massage -Swim in the Chionthar -Buy a new coat -Get a cat

Vestiges of Garlow. Reminders to live life and live it joyfully. To always notice how beautiful the sunset is, even when he sees it every night. To never take the gentle warmth of the sun on his skin for granted. Wherever that old man ended up, he hopes that he never stopped seeing how precious it all was. The clock won't stop, and this is what we get.

Dear Ansur: "A plain unadorned note."

Dear Ansur, I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again- there is no cure, and that's all right. I'm fine, more than fine, I'm better than I've ever been. So why torture yourself like this? Of course, I know why. Remember Yal Tengril? You and I sailed together for months, seeking the Great Spire. By the time we found it, we were sick as dogs. But you never left my side, not for a moment, even though you could have simply chosen to fly. You told me there was something about experiencing it with me- through my eyes- you wanted to share in my passion for the adventure. It was, you said, a privilege. The truth is, the privilege was mine. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me Ansur. I never had to ask you for anything, but I'm asking you now to stop. I may no longer feel my feelings, but I know yours, and yours are agony. It doesn't have to be this way. Be free, Ansur, Fly. And know that even if I'm not beside you, I will always have been your Balduran.

He's not better than he's ever been. He's sure of it. What would it be like, he wonders, to try to impress upon someone the profundity of a love he could only remember once feeling?

Yet here, the Emperor begs not just for its own life, but for Ansur's. Of course, that didn't matter in the end. But there's something about this that feels more real than the carefully presented facade he sees most often from it. There is an incurable humanity in the way it believes unfalteringly that it is right.

#alternate title: what's in my bag (cian's version)#alternate alternate title: a bunch of shit i found mostly on the ground that made me very emotional #the old garlow notes make me tear up for real. i hope the person who wrote them knows that they are appreciated.#and honestly so does dear ansur. woof #oh also the guild ring thing is related to like. the whole backstory for this man that exists in my head which i still think i'm too #self-conscious to trot out. but u know.#it speaks #buzzin #bg3 #oc tag

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allie-campbell-bradshaw · 11 months ago

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Chapter 16: First Date

A/N: I’m guessing by the title of this chapter that you know what’s about to happen! This is one of my favorite chapters ever. This chapter has additions to the Brallie playlist as well as the wardrobe, so make sure you check it out! I mention this in every chapter, but in case you missed it- I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post.

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 16: First Date

AUTHOR’S POV

Friday was here. Allie had just finished up her shift and was getting dressed in the locker room–putting her hair in a waterfall braid, letting her loose curls hang down. She was in a navy blue and white striped t-shirt dress. She reached up and grasped onto her locket, the one with an A in cursive on it that was shaped in a heart. She held onto it as she looked at herself through one of the warn out mirrors, knowing that this was the first time in years where she was actually going on a proper date, and a date she was planning.

She didn’t know how he would take this, but was hoping he would be as entertained and enthused as she thought he was going to be. Allie let out a deep breath and tucked the locket into her dress so it would not be visible. Allie packed up everything into her backpack and threw it over her shoulder, holding her set of keys in her hand as she made her way out the doors and towards the tarmac, heading for her aircraft carrier.

***

Bradley was looking at himself in the mirror in his dorm room. He didn’t have many formal clothes, just a bunch of Hawaiian shirts and jeans. Thank God he and Javy were around the same size and his friend was kind enough to lend him his dark pink shirt that had a circular shaped pattern in it. Bradley looked down the lower half of his body, kicking the Emmett’s brown shoes in the air and running his hands over his own khaki pants. It felt weird to be in shoes that weren’t the boots that the military made him wear. The brown shoes perfectly complemented the color palette that he had on.

Bradley adjusted his tactiks watch on his left wrist, taking a deep breath as he adjusted himself one last time in the mirror.

Emmett was watching him in admiration, loving how anxious his roommate, and best friend, looked. “You look lovely dear.” he said to him in a mockingly admiring tone.

“Thanks hun,” Bradley responded playfully, running his hands through his hair so he could set it just right.

“You really like this girl don’t you?” Emmett asked, realizing that this was no longer a fling, but something Bradley was actually working very hard for.

Bradley raised his eyebrows in response, sort of saying ‘no shit’ to his best mate.

“Alright then,” Emmett said, conceding in his tomfoolery, “I will stop teasing you about it”.

“Thanks!” Bradley exclaimed, happy that the constant comments would finally be over, walking over to his desk and putting his wallet in his pants pocket. “Do I look okay?” He turned over and faced Emmett.

“Simply breathtaking” Emmett responded, fighting back a smile that was peeking through his cheeks.

“Any advice?” He asked his roommate, before rolling his eyes, “Why am I asking you?”

“Hey,” Emmett fired back, “I’m a hit with the ladies!”

“Oh yeah,” Bradley said sarcastically, “You’re a star man.”

Emmett made a ‘twinkle, twinkle’ sign with his hands before turning his attention back to the TV that was right in front of his bed. Bradley wasn’t much of a TV watcher, and when he did watch a show with Emmett, he didn’t mind looking over towards his bunk.

The door then swung open and Natasha and Javy made their way in, “Oh good!” Natasha exclaimed, “You’re still here”. Both her and Javy looked like they were on a mission, shutting the door and walking over to Bradley.

Natasha adjusted a wrinkled piece of fabric on his shoulder and pushed him so he turned around, inhaling, “What are you wearing”? She asked him, inhaling deeply.

“Javy and Emmett’s clothes,” Bradley answered matter of factly, a little confused because he knew that Natasha knew that.

“Not your clothes dipshit!” She fired back, “Cologne, what cologne are you wearing?”

“Ummmm,” Bradley asked, giving it away that he was not wearing anything.

Natasha looked at Javy, who took out a blue bottle from the pocket of his deep gray joggers. Natasha sprayed it on Bradley without asking for permission or allowing him to smell it.

The aroma filled the room quickly, “What the hell?!” Bradley yelled, touching the part of his neck that was sprayed.

“Relax,” Natasha said, “Trust me, you needed it”.

“Yeah, but I didn’t need something this strong”.

“But it’s nice!” Natasha exclaimed, “Strong, but nice”.

“Are you sure?” He asked, now second guessing their move.

“Oh yeah,” she responded, grabbing his arm and starting to move him towards the door, “You smell like a successful Black man”.

Bradley looked at Javy, not knowing what that even meant. Javy gave him a look before answering the question that he could tell was on Bradley’s mind: “Don’t worry about it. It’s just something that my friends and I have. Got me laid multiple times in high school”.

Emmett interjected much to everyone’s surprise: “I’m not sure that’s the goal there today, Javy”.

Javy looked back at Bradley with a questioning look on his face. Bradley rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I don’t think so,” he said, giving Emmett the all-clear to stay in his own dorm room tonight.

“Well, let us know if anything changes,” Natasha said as Bradley made his way to the door.

“Oh yeah,” Bradley said, turning back to them: “I’ll send a pigeon with a note”.

Bradley left after that, waving to Denzel who was on duty as he made his way out of the dorm room. Yesterday, Allie passed back his weekly score report for his flying performance. An 82% being a fair grade for the first week of simulation flying. On the last piece of paper Allie wrote: “Friday- On the tarmac. 7:30pm”.

Bradley was taken aback by this chosen meeting spot, knowing full well that Allie had not told her father about them yet, or if she had, was utterly shocked that her father would be okay with it. No she hadn’t told him yet, he thought to himself, Rear Admiral Campbell would have murdered me by now.

Bradley made his way to the tarmac and found it empty. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 7:23. Proud of himself for being prompt. He took this opportunity to wander over to the parked Texans that were not put in a hanger yet. He was completely admired by the jet-like qualities that this aircraft had that the cessna did not. It could reach speeds that were almost twice that of the cessna, requiring students to wear a helmet and oxygen mask.

Bradley was at the left side of the aircraft, when he noticed lights approaching him from the tarmac. He walked over and saw a little red, two seater cessna approaching. The propellers on the nose of the plane were beating fast as the plane turned and faced west.

He watched in amazement as Allie approached from the opposite side of the running aircraft, walking over to him, looking breathtaking!

“You coming stranger?” She asked, smirking at him as she made her way closer to him. He was frozen in shock, not thinking for a second that this was going to happen. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have predicted that they were going to go in the air tonight!

“Is that-” Bradley started to ask, freezing as he pointed to the plane that was sitting on the tarmac, his mouth hanging open wide in amazement.

Allie looked over to her plane and then back at him, “I call her Big Red”. she said, smiling at her prized possession.

“She’s beautiful!” Bradley exclaimed, still admiring the aircraft.

“Thank you!” Allie beamed back to him, turning on her heel and making her way towards the aircraft, “And she’s also running on gas, which is expensive, so let’s stop drooling at her and get in”.

Bradley snapped out of it and followed her to the edge of the runway. Allie opened the passenger door and held her hand up for him to hold onto as he made his way to his seat, crossing over to her side of the plane and climbing in, both of them shutting their respective doors and putting on their seatbelts.

“Here you go!” She said, holding a headset for him.

“Thanks” Bradley responded as he put on his headset, adjusting his mouthpiece to the optimal length from his lips, 2.5 inches.

Allie did the same for herself, her mouthpiece a little further out than it should be. Bradley thought about correcting her, but then choked back his words, not wanting his newfound knowledge to get in the way and reminder her as to why she doesn’t date Navalmen in the first place. He was just excited to finally be in a real plane again! It had been years!

Allie could tell he was anxiously excited because his demeanor had changed. He was now holding himself upright and tapping his hands on his lap like a drum. He looked like a little kid during Christmas time, on his way to see Santa.

“What?” He questioned as he saw her smiling hard at him.

Allie immediately snapped out of it, “nothing” she said, insecure and blushing at being called out.

This caused Bradley to start laughing, which became contagious on her as she let out a few laughs.

“AK-217 are you ready for departure?” Someone from the control tower questioned, causing both of them to stop laughing.

“AK-217 ready for departure” Allie said back to the person in the control tower, dropping her laugh and getting right to her work.

“AK-217 you are clear for departure, immediately head 26 degrees west,” they came on and said again.

“AK-217 departing and heading 26 degrees west”.

Allie then adjusted in her seat and reached for her controls, pushing up on the lever while they gained speed. Bradley looked out the window of the plane, watching as they kept speeding down the runway. Before either of them knew it, they were in the air, his ears popping immediately at the change of pressure. They used to not do that right away when he left the ground, but it had been so long since he was in a plane that he wasn’t surprised.

Allie must have noticed his giddiness, because she started to let out a giggle behind her smirk. “What?” He asked again, pushing more than he did the first time when he asked.

“Nothing!” She said back playfully: “You just look so excited. Is this your first time on an airplane?”

Bradley laughed at her joke, knowing full well how crazy you would be to go into aviation if you had never been in a plane before. His first plane ride was when he was on his way to visit his dad in Top Gun, right after his second birthday. He couldn’t remember it, but his mom always told him how giddy he was to be on the plane, commenting on how it just looked like his toys!

“Dat?” Bradley asked, sitting up in his mom’s lap, pointing to the 15th new thing he found on the aircraft.

“Air” His mom responded, reaching up and turning the dial of the air so that it started hitting them.

Bradley closed his eyes as the air hit his face, “No air!” he yelled, bothered by the cool breeze that hit him and dried out his eyes.

His mom immediately turned the dial back, wanting badly to not have her toddler have a meltdown on the flight.

Bradley’s eyes widened and his hands covered his ears, “Dat?” he asked scared, not knowing what was happening, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“That’s your ears popping,” she said, knowing he had no idea what she was saying, “I’ll teach you how to get rid of that when you’re older.”

“Dat?” He asked, pointing to something far away that she couldn’t tell what it was.

“I love you so much little goose” His mom said to him, kissing him all over his cheeks.

Bradley erupted in giggles as his mom kissed and tickled him. She was shocked how easy he was in the air, hoping it would always be this way, and he and his dad could go out flying all the time.

“Did you?” Allie asked Bradley.

“Did I what?” Bradley questioned, snapping out of it and back into the conversation he was having with Allie. He had been in such a trance in the air that he hadn’t realized that they were almost 5,000 feet up and that he had been sharing the story of his first plane right out loud for Allie to hear.

“Did you ride with your dad all the time?” She asked, keeping her eyes on the sky ahead.

Bradley’s face turned and he mentally punched himself in the gut for letting it slip. “We never got that far…” He said to her quietly, creating an awkward moment in the airplane.

“I’m sorry,” she started, “I know what it’s like for your old man to keep you grounded”.

“You do?” He asked, surprised at her admission.

“Yeah,” she answered, “I didn’t start flying until I was 16. And even then, daddy didn’t like having me in the air. The first time I flew without him in the seat next to me was my 21st birthday. And I told him it was either this or drunk driving.”

Bradley chucked again at her, loving her sense of humor. He looked over at the front of her plane by all of her controls and noticed something he had never seen before, “You have a radio in your plane!?” He asked, super impressed.

“Hmmm?” She said, dropping her eyes from the sky. “Oh, yes. I’m quite acclimated”.

“What are you listening to?” He asked, turning the dial and listening to the song that came on, recognizing it real quick as an 80’s hit.

“80’s music helps me calm down,” Allie said, “About 3 years ago, I had engine failure and I think listening to this station was the only thing that saved me when I brought the plane back to base”.

“I’m sure your dad was having a heart attack!” Bradley said sarcastically.

“He was!” Allie confirmed, “It took forever for him to allow me back in the air again”.

“So you’re a nurse,” Bradley said, “And you love flying, yet you want to be a surgeon. Why didn’t you become a pilot?”

Allie’s face dropped as she finally hit her desired altitude and set her plane on auto-pilot, looking down at her lap at his question.

“Oh,” Bradley said, noticing her change in demeanor, “I’m sorry. Is that a sore subject?”

Allie shrugged, fighting back the tightening of her throat. “It used to bother me,” Allie brought her eyes back up and looked at him, “But I love what I do now, and I’ll love being a surgeon”.

Bradley nodded and looked out the window. It was completely dark now and the stars were starting to make their presence known. “God it is so beautiful!” Bradley beamed.

Allie smirked at him and looked out the window herself. “This is my favorite time to fly” she said, “Perfect timing, perfect weather, perfect company”.

Bradley looked over at her and her at him. He was stunned at her comment: “I think this is the first time you’ve ever flirted with me, nurse Dr. Pilot Campbell”.

Allie laughed both at his comment and his name for her.

“It is so perfect out tonight” Allie said, looking out her window.

“Yes it is,” Bradley said, keeping his eyes on her.

Allie looked up at him through the reflection of her window, noticing that he hadn't stopped looking at her, “here,” she started, turning around to face him, “close your eyes”.

Bradley closed his eyes and noticed the room get significantly darker. Allie got on her radio and asked to change direction, which someone in air traffic control gave.

Allie turned direction and increased her speed slightly. After a few moments she finally spoke: “Okay, open your eyes” she whispered to him.

Bradley did and looked out the window, seeing nothing but water as they continued to move, he looked down and saw the waves beneath him, looking still as they continued their journey through the sky.

“Oh, my hell!” He exclaimed, taken aback by the beauty of it all: “It’s like we’re birds!”

“Exactly like we’re birds” Allie said, as she continued to move, eventually regaining her altitude and putting her plane back to auto-pilot after a few minutes of fun.

“How did you learn to do that?” Bradley asked, amazed.

“My daddy taught me. I’ll show you one day, when we’re in the air”.

At that moment, the reality that Bradley was living in came to full realization. He was in a plane, on a date, with his flight instructor, whose dad was an Admiral in the Navy. Well, a Read Admiral, but equally just as intimidating.

“This plane is magnificent,” Bradley said, breaking the silence.

“Thanks,” Allie said, proud of Big Red.

“Where did you get it?” Bradley asked.

Allie’s face dropped again, getting that same look of sadness that it had before when he asked her about being a pilot. “My dad,” she answered shortly. It was the truth, just not complete, “It was his when he was younger, and now it’s mine. And one day, I’ll pass it on to my children-If I have children” she corrected herself.

“Do you want children?” Bradley asked, hoping she would say yes, and bonus points if she said more than one.

Allie just shrugged, “It’s hard for me to answer, because a baby is not in my current plans nor in any near future plans of mine. But I would like a baby. I’m an only child, and I know what that’s like growing up, so if I had it my way, I would have two babies born right after each other, that way my oldest never knows what it’s like to be alone”.

Bradley looked at Allie as she became vulnerable, opening up about something he didn’t think she would be willing to do. He looked down at her right hand and reached over for it, giving it a squeeze and watching her look as he gazed into her eyes: “I’m an only child too.” Bradley said reassuringly: “And I also don’t want my children growing up knowing what it’s like to be alone”.

Allie and Bradley kept their eyes on each other for a moment before she broke it by slightly smirking at him, which he returned. They kept their eyes on each other as the plane slowly kept cruising into the direction of the water.

“I think this really makes up for everything,” Bradley said softly, both of them looking at each other before Bradley looked away, reaching towards the radio: “Let’s play a game”.

Allie looked at him questioningly: “What kind of game?”

“Well,” Bradley started, turning the dial of the radio, “The first ballad we find, if it’s sung by a female singer, means that I have to take you out on our next date. And if the ballad is sung by a guy, you have to take me out,” Bradley kept turning the dial, skipping past all the fast songs,

“And if I don’t want to go on another date?” Allie questioned.

That’s when Bradley froze, finding the first ballad, Lady Gaga’s voice filling the plane as he turned up the volume, letting it sink in that Bradley owed her the next date:

So when I’m all choked up

But I can’t find the words

Bradley sat up and looked at Allie, his eyes no longer worried at her threats. His eyes were fiery and twinkled in the moonlight that was hitting them.

“Is that what you want?” Bradley asked, not letting her win this time.

Allie started by shaking her head before silently letting out a “no”.

Bradley met her low volume, “good” he said as he slowly started to lean into her.

As Lady Gaga started to sing ‘I’ll always remember us this way’, Allie thought she saw Bradley mouth the lyrics, moving even closer to her, making his intentions completely known.

It was now on the acoustic solo, the climax of the song, when his lips met hers. His kiss was strong, passionate, slightly possessive. Her’s started out soft, but became as strong as his, wanting to meet his strength.

He kept kissing her, bringing his hands up to cup her face. She placed her hands on his elbows, her fingertips rubbing softly on his skin and increasing its grip as the kisses became more passionate.

They kept kissing each other for the remainder of the song, which was only a few more seconds.

As the climax of the song came down, Bradley pulled away, allowing both of them to remain centimeters apart, breathing heavily as they comprehended the moment that they just had.

And the whole world fades

I’ll always remember us

This way.

A few moments later, Allie broke the silence: “Things just got complicated”.

Bradley chuckled at her as he finally looked up, meeting her eyes. He put his right hand on the outer left side of her neck, running his fingers in her few strands of hair and rubbing the skin of her neck, looking at her eyes again.

Yes, things just got very complicated.

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the-truth-behind-redacted · 6 years ago

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Dome’s Way Home

Dear Locket, Entry 5

While it's not exactly the most thrilling for me, it's now blatantly clear to me that there is more than the Sp-Tem(s) exist in this place. I also have reason to suspect that they are sentient on some level. Of course, the word I could be looking for is sapient but I have no way to check even if it is. The flashes of explosions break the field of vision and the calls of many different things echo above. It's very clear to me this is a war front and not some happenstance battle of two giant beasts. What worries me is that I'm slowly moving forward to that locations though it's angled off from my path.

However, the main fear I have about this is that war is an organized institution, or however you would describe it, and it requires some form of societal structure. I'm not saying it has to be advanced or even something like ours but a group with a unified reason to fight against another is near textbook war. This should go without saying that I am by no means at this point an expert of how things work here so for all I know this is a territory battle between two apex preditor groups that just because of the very alien way of these beings has caused me to confuse it for war. Hell, what the fuck do I know?

Way before I reached my current position where the battle is as clear as it is now, I decided to do a few other tests. The first one was just for documentation, however embarrassing it may have been, of testing sexual functions. I covered in either my first or second entry that many psychical functions don't affect me. This being the need for sleep, lack of fatigue, food and water, and the need for restrooms. Also, besides the auto weapon, no physical strain has been happening to me. This left one obvious bodily function that I needed to test while inside this undefined place.

To make a very uncomfortable story short, the answer is yes. I did feel an increase in body temperature during the progress as well as self-lubrication. Climax also happened with the excretion of climaxal fluid. Thought this was a humiliating process an interesting thing to note after is that I did feel a form of physical fatigue after climax. This, however, has made it clear that my bodily functions are still working, they just seem to be in a form of suspended animation until some very exact stimulus activates them. Why sexual stimulation is one of them, I don't know but it's very strange to me. That is to say, slightly more strange than literally everything else that's been going on.

Now on to the real reason why I'm writing this entry, I have found some semblance of a civilization in this deranged world. I call it a semblance because all that's left seems to be shattered domes that I can only guess served as some sort of shelter. This is built in the center of a mass of intersecting paths which only seems to suggest that these paths weren't built. They just seem to have been here beforehand. That would explain why these paths just stretch on endlessly without any seeming purpose or reason of existence.

There's something unspeakably horrific about this. It all seems so humanoid. Of course, it's not like any human structure I've seen but once more drawing back from old history, there was a group of people known as Esca-to. They were a group of nomadic people who lived in frigid temperature. I'm not quite sure how one would live in the cold without technology but they survived there for hundreds of thousands of years, supposedly. Then again, there wasn't a climate on Gee-Gerotous that could be considered cold. It is pretty temperate all over.

Anyways, the Esca-tos lived in the upper Northern Hemisphere of the planet Earth where it was mostly fridged. There was a lot of ice and snow that covered everything. Well, because of the climate in these areas, there weren't as many basic building resources. So instead of wood or clay, they used compactable snow. These igloos basic structure featured a dome of compacted snow with a relatively small crawl space for a person to get in.

Now, this information is the only common beliefe from what we have. Ancient historians disagree about much of this, especially the condition to why Igloos were the common form of housing, if they were even the common form of housing, if the Esca-tos were even the pioneers of this form of housing, and much more. Hell, there isn't even an agreement if the word Igloo was even used to refer to these housings. This is just the current working theory. It's hard to be 100% about anything if you don't have an active site to investigate, which brings me to this ruin (though I don't think snow would preserve well over thousands of years).

The site was massive, and I'm still quite impressed with how many different paths intersected in this one area to create as much space as it has. Many of the domes have caved in over time. In total there are 13 large domes and it's hard to tell how many smaller ones existed. It seems that before whatever was here simply abandoned this site, many of the smaller destroyed domes were piled together. Of the small domes that still exist there are about 15, only slightly more than the big ones. I guess the ones that weren't destroyed when they left are now the ones that caved over time.

It's important to mention that the terms small and big are absolutely relative terms to each other. I'm a decently sized woman, 5'8 (173cm), and the "crawl spaces" open up to well over my body size. If I was to estimate the size of the entire platform this was made on is about 5.5km*6km. The size kept within each of the large domes are larger than what most usual household sizes are from my world. Each large dome could house many families with enough space to segregate each family with walls to allow privacy. However, looking at some of the basic structures found in the domes that haven't completely collapsed suggest that they were used to only house one being.

The most intact large dome had only the entrance collapsed and some of the very center of the ceiling which fell into the housing. It took quite a while to move much of the mysterious crystal substance which seemed to compose everything in this world. Upon entering the first thing I saw was a bed structure. For the first time ever it was something that wasn't purple! Drape over a rectangular base was a golden "fur." Touching it wasn't comfortable at all. The fibers were like needles and I did puncture the tip of one of my fingers. If I die from an infection because of this, I'm going to be pissed. Well dead but I'm going to be pissed while I die that is if suffering doesn't consume me which it most likely will.

Carefully pulling it off saw what was underneath. The case was hollowed out and there was some kind of comforter. It was seamed together with a hardy pelt. It did bend and flow like a pillow but it wasn't quite as soft. I made a knife as a tool from my weapon, which only took a bit of focus, and cut it open. I pulled out what looked to like scales. Their color was a glistening velvet, green, and sea blue. They were surprisingly malleable. Each segment was lined and seamed together. Honestly, it looks now a bit more like a sofa than a bed but it really doesn't share a similar look. Maybe if I flipped it but it's just a crystal flat surface. I don't understand its design.

I glanced around the room and much of the furniture was very much overside for me. Many of the chairs were like the oversized bar stools that go up to your waist. These were quite a bit larger, going up to my chest. I lifted myself up onto one and looked at the desk. There was an assortment of little nick-nacks. An object I recognized was an object to represents the physical property for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Known to us as the Casacal's Formation, named after the physicist from the group that uplifted our civilization to our current technological level, it has a set of objects evenly held together and lined up, in which one pulls one side of the formation letting it go and collide with a part that is resting which will cause the other end to launch out, pull back, and hit the resting part of the formation causing this to happen until one stops it or friction drags to a stop. Here, its called "Newton's cradle."

Another object was some weird singularity. Contained in a black tinted glass container, there is a swirling mass of energy that expands, contracts, and then condenses again in a flash of light before separating into two other masses of energy colliding and begin the cycle again. On the base on which the glass sphere containing the singularity it's labeled as "Matter Apperation Separation Cycle." It certainly doesn't seem to be scientific like Casacal's Formation as it didn't seem to be any kind of natural source causing the separation and recombination of the energy contained inside. There is also a warning on it saying to be careful when handling. I can only assume because the energy could cause massive damage if broken. I decided to put this in my bag in case I need a makeshift grenade.

There were three other objects on the desk. Two of the items seemed to be a computer. At least that what I think it is. Another object is a complicated assortment of in grove details, crystals that aren't purple (I'm sure God doesn't even know where the fuck those came from), and a broken set of what appears to be wires. Looking at what I would assume to be the computer tower, there's a massive empty section inside plus a bunch of other things that look like this world's tech. There's another object that looks like what I would think are fans. They are weird inserts with tubes running into them that have slits that air could pass through.

I don't know for sure but it all seems to be intact. All that appears to be damaged is what I would guess to be an internal power source. Near the possible internal power source and a possible computer tower is what could possibly be a monitor. It is really fucking big and very flat and has some kind of thin film screened over what reflects back as, what else, purple. I can see myself in its reflection and boy have I seen better days. This isn't important!

This old thing (I assume it's old) has really sparked my interest. Hopefully, somewhere around here there are instructions about this thing or at least manufacturing notes. Actually, wouldn't manufacturing notes be rarer than basic instructions of the product? Oh god, I'm beginning to treat this journal like it's a person that can answer my questions. I'm losing it. FUCK, focus you, dumb bitch. Alright, beyond the rest weird furniture that is around this place there doesn't seem to be anything else of interest. There are still quite a few other locations for me to check out. For now, I'll cut this and do another entry on the rest I find in the other caved in domes. I'll also check the crystal piles as well.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #Simple Pondering #There's something here #Echo Echo #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?

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firstwizardingwarfest · 2 years ago

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Welcome to the First Wizarding War Fest!

This is an anonymous, prompt-based fest for fic and art featuring the First Wizarding War as significant to the work.

The setting of the fanwork can be anytime before October 31, 1981. It must be about the First Wizarding War in some way. This is your chance to explore topics such as factors that led to the war; characters fighting in the war; or how the war shaped society.

We would love to see works that explore how Voldemort came to power; how Severus and his friends became Death Eaters; or what shenanigans the Marauders came up with during their first battle.

We also welcome AUs that still focus on the first war. What if Harry time-traveled back to 1950? Would he stop Voldemort or fall in love with him? What if Harry time-traveled back to 1979 and helped Regulus find the locket? Hell, what if Lily Evans turned dark and teamed up with Bellatrix to take over Britain? The options are endless!

We encourage a wide range of ships and characters for this fest.

For more information, including rules and deadlines, see below the cut.

Timeline

Prompting opens: July 15, 2023 Prompting closes: August 4, 2023 Claiming begins: August 5, 2023 Claiming ends: October 8th, 2023 Work submission deadline: October 22, 2023 Posting begins: October 31, 2023 Creators revealed: TBD

Rules

This fest is open to all ages. If you are under 18 years old, please do not write explicit fics, nor read or comment on them.

Your submission must be complete and original to the fest. Previously posted works, works in progress, or sequels to existing works will not be accepted. We encourage the use of beta-readers and reserve the right to refuse a fic if there are too many SPaG (spelling, punctuation and grammar) errors.

All works will be hosted on Ao3, so you must have an Ao3 account to participate. Your work must comply with Ao3 terms of service. The mods will ensure that all works comply with the terms of service but will not otherwise make changes to art, text, or tags. The mods reserve the right to make other judgment calls on an as-needed basis to refuse a piece.

Canon compliant, time travel, and AU (canon divergence) fics are welcome. We also allow crossovers as long as they take place in the Harry Potter universe during the first wizarding war. Alternate settings such as coffee-shop AUs, or crossovers taking place in a different fandom's property, are not eligible. Ineligible topics would be, for example: the Marauders as students simply because the timeline is during the first war. For example, an eligible prompt would be about James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus deciding to join the Order of the Phoenix. An ineligible prompt would be the four of them pranking Slytherins in the Great Hall at breakfast. The mods reserve the right to delete prompts that do not appear to be about the First Wizarding War.

This fest is inclusive of many themes you personally may dislike. We will not tolerate bashing of ships or characters, or kink shaming. Please adhere to "don't like; don't read."

Artist Guidelines

Each art submission must be a stand-alone piece and exclusive to this fest.

Each submission must demonstrate approximately 2 hours worth of effort. Although this is an anon fest, you are welcome to include your personal watermark on the piece when it is uploaded to AO3 to prevent theft.

In addition to compliance with Ao3's terms of service, please do not submit explicit artwork depicting minors.

Author Guidelines

Each written submission must be a stand-alone piece and exclusive to this fest.

All written stories must be a minimum of 1,000 words with no maximum word count.

We strongly encourage that fics be beta read. The mods are more than happy to help find you a beta. Participants can also indicate if they are willing to beta for other participants in the sign up form.

Prompts

You will use airtable to submit your prompts; the link will be available when prompting opens. You may submit up to 20 prompts, as long as they fit the parameters of the fest.

All accepted prompts will be available to view on the airtable gallery (the link will be available when prompting opens). Anyone can submit a prompt; you will not be required to submit a claim in order to submit a prompt and vice versa.

You may submit prompts anonymously. By submitting a prompt under your ao3 name, you agree to receive either fic or art.

Claims

After prompting is over, there will be another airtable link to submit your claims.

Prompts are claimed on a first-come, first-served basis. You will receive an email confirming your prompt and your signup. If you finish writing your fic and wish to claim a second prompt, you are welcome to do so even after claiming closes. Before submitting a second claim form, please submit your first finished piece to the AO3 collection and wait for approval to claim another prompt.

Each prompt will be allowed 1 claim in each medium - Fic and Artwork.

You may, but are not required to, gift the work to the prompter. If you do not follow the prompt closely or do not adhere to the Do Not Want’s, consider self-prompting instead. If you would prefer not to have a fic gifted to you, consider prompting anonymously.

We also encourage you to participate in the fest community by leaving kudos and a kind comment on other participants' works!

Self Prompts

You can self-prompt on the claiming form after the prompting period ends. The mods will email you to either approve your prompt or let you know that it does not meet the criteria for the fest.

Drop Outs and Extensions

If you need to drop out at any time or request an extension, please contact the mods. Extensions will be at the mods’ discretion and dependent on the size of the fest. If you drop out without telling us, you will not be eligible to participate in next year’s fest.

Submissions and Posting

All artwork and written stories must be posted on AO3 to the First Wizarding War Fest collection by the deadline. You will not need to add the fest mod account as a co-author; we will inform you of the reveal date for your fic prior to posting, and you may change the publication date on the fic if you would like. However, if you would prefer us to update the date when we post, you may add the mod account (FirstWizardingWarFestMod). We will not make any other changes to your work.

When you post your work to the collection, also email us the following information:

Subject line: Ao3 username, fic or art, prompt # Title: Ao3 account: Prompt #: Ship or Gen: Rating: Wordcount/Art medium: Warnings: Summary: Link to work:

You may claim one additional prompt if you have posted your first fic to the collection and received approval from the mods.

Please note that the anonymous period remains in effect until the final masterlist is posted, and so please do not reveal yourself on any social media platform or discord server until reveals.

If you would like your work to remain anonymous even after fest reveals, please email the mods, and we will be happy to accommodate that.

You can contact the mods through the tumblr ask box, or at [email protected]. The mods are @maraudersaffair and @yletylyf. We hope you are as excited for this fest as we are!

#hp events #hp fest #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp fanart #first wizarding war #harry potter

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coralsgrimes · 3 years ago

Photo

She's so supportive!! Can u see the teeny tiny heart and lion emojis in that ugly ass 11:11 locket? I put her old pic of that atrocity too just as a reference... but as I said truly a POWER COUPLE!!1! She even tagged him in the story 😍😍 (am I reposting? yes?)

Lets not forget bout the lovely birthday stories!

Love how he opens up about his private life (finally as per the instyle interview!!) instead of running in circles and untagging posts, blocking his biggest twitter fan accounts, deflecting, sending secret messages and still not being able to understand that he cannot tag #11:11 on SM... OH NO WAIT???

goodnight good ppl of the internet! hope im gonna wake up to garbage fire again... love that smell in the morning and the very obvious second hand embarrassment...

#ben barnes #look on twitter #its like christmas day #she better be worth it benji #quick like some glorifying thirst posts to deflect

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draco-and-tom · 3 years ago

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TW!!!- Mentions of suicide attempt, Mentions of suicide note, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of grooming, Mentions of sexual assault, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of early eating disorder signs. Please let me know If you catch any I didn’t say.

This is about Talia (@satans-little-devil) Okay, so it has come to my attention that I have been played long story short. It all started when she sent in this request. I love requests and was delighted to write for her. Talia would keep checking up on me and asking if I ate/drank etc. We started talking and becoming friends and after about 2 weeks she started getting flirty. I did not know her age at the time so I would flirt back. I'm a little flirty with all of my friends so I didn't see anything wrong with it. After about another week we got even more flirty and on a Friday of (I think) April we started dating. I called her 2 times while we were dating and both times she had an excuse for why she couldn't speak, only listen. On those calls I told her how alcohol and sexual abuse were triggers for me which will come into play later. We dated for 3 days till she told me that she wasn't comfortable with my age, so we were going to wait a bit. We continued to do the exact same things as we were doing before. We weren't supposed to talk romantically to anyone else, we weren't supposed to kiss, touch others, anything like that. After about a week of that is when the suicide attempt and letter posts happened. She had told me about how her parents were abusive and I even supposedly got her in trouble because of our messages. Her parents are homophobic and her sister read through them, then told their parents. I don't even know if I believe this anymore because I've had a gut feeling about this and some things didn't add up which I will get into later. That night I begged her to not do it and told her a whole bunch of things to get her to stop. I even messaged a random person I saw on her blog a couple of times (that I did not know) seeking help. She ended up telling me that I had convinced her and that her parents needed her for chores or something. At this point I'm blowing up her phone, because she hasn't answered me in a while and I'm starting to get worried. She answers me after a few more minutes and tells me that she’s okay and going for a drive. I tell her that's fine, but to be safe because the last time she told me that she got into her wreck. She told me that she would be and once again she stops answering completely. I blew up her phone a lot at this point because i was so scared that something had happened to her. I woke up around once every hour to check our messages and send new ones. I wake up around 3 or 4 in the morning and see that she messaged me back. I read it and she tells me about a post that her sister made for her talking about the attempt. I keep talking to her and she keeps saying sorry and so do I. After a couple of days all of her surgeries are done and she is resting in the hospital. That weekend I get random messages from her telling me things that I couldn't quite make out. She ended up telling me about a day later that she was in a Christian mental hospital and that the messages were her trying to get help. This is why she was saying things like “I'm fine they told me themselves”. She was talking about the nuns. I was pretty skeptical about this because I’ve been told by people I know that they take away electronics from patience there so I asked her how she still had her phone. She told me that she didn't and that they allowed her to have her school lap top. Me being me thought that it was odd, and decided to trust her because I thought that we were close. I’ve always been a trusting person and refused to act on all of the red flags that I saw. She told me that her parents forged her signature, but later she informed me that she found out her doctor signed her into the mental hospital/group home type place. After a while she seemed to be getting better and told me that she liked it better there because she didn't have to deal with her parents. A few days later she informs me about a friend named Blake. Apparently he was one of her friends that she had known since elementary school. She told me that they were really close and that they cuddled which I was uncomfortable with because I'm a very jealous/territorial person, but I let it slide because I felt that I was over reacting and she shouldn't have to change her friendship habits for me. The next day were talking and she tells me that they kiss in a “friend” kind of way. I don't know exactly what that means to her, but that was were I told her in made me upset. She told me that he was gay and that he had a fiancé that he loved dearly. A few moments later all of the sudden Blake is bisexual. She tells me to not worry about him and I brush it off. The next day I am informed that Blake’s boy friend cheated and they broke up. She started telling me about how He would get drunk and become violent and would tell her to hide the alcohol from him. I asked her how he got it in the first place since they were in a mental hospital after all. She basically told me that the nuns didn't care. One of the days he got drunk she told me that he sexually assaulted her. I told her that it was not okay and that she should cut him off. She said no because he was one of her best friends. I eventually convinced her to at least talk to him about it and they ended up crying. We ended up setting boundaries for them. After all of that cleared up she tells me about a friend named Jacob she had coming to visit. Before reading this part please note that I am a minor. I have no experience with sexual matters other than what I see and read, so I have no clue how communication during works. I'm obviously not innocent, considering I run a smut page, but I am not sexually active either. Talia would always push me into sexual things, but in the end I always gave my consent. We didn't do anything overly sexual, just texting. She would always tease me about doing sexual things with both of her friends even though she knew it bothered me. One time she did and told me that she did sexual things with him. I didn't believe her. Later in the day I told her to be nice and that I wasn't mad to which she responds with something like “you aren't mad about Jason?”. At this point I was a little confused and asked if they actually did anything and she ends up saying that they did. She basically blamed it on me and I ended up feeling bad for 2 reasons.

1. I had just been cheated on for the first time

2. I felt like it was my fault.

she said that she was sorry, but I was being too mean and she wanted to be good for someone and that I should have known. By this point in our relationship I started developing eating issues. I would get so stressed out that if I even thought about eating I felt like I would throw up. I told her about it, but did not tell her what the cause of my eating problems were. After a couple of days I'm having a good time at the beach on vacation. She knew that I was on vacation and that I was trying to relax because of my recent problems having to do with her, and just life in general. About 2 nights ago she messages me and tells me that she kissed Jason again. I’m going to try not to show too much emotion in this because i don't want to trauma dump you guys, so ill say the rest as good as I can. I forgave her again. I told her that if it happened again that we were over and she agreed. everything went fine and yesterday was actually pretty smooth sailing. Me and her had nice talks. Her friend messaged me and she asked me to block her, and I did. The only thing that was bothering me at this time is that she started to stop talking to me earlier in the day. The schedule change was drastic. We used to message throughout from around 9am-1am, and it recently changed to around 12pm-8pm. Today I woke up, got ready to leave my hotel, and messaged her at about 7am. In the car I messaged her and told her that I might not be able to talk for awhile because i lost my charger. she ends up responding with “hiii” and that was the last message I got and will probably get from her, because when I got back home and checked my messages her whole account was de-activated. I unblock her friend and ask her if Talia is okay. her friend still hasn't answered, even though I don't think I want her to anymore. I saw a couple posts about her, but didn't believe them until i saw an ask from @sexy-for-cedric about @were-not-doing-get-help ‘s post. If it wasn't for that I would probably still be on her side, but knowing that I was cheated on ATLEAST 3 times in a month by the same person sent me over the edge. I understand that what she did was horrible, but please don't tag me in any posts shunning her or saying dreadful things about her. I know that its wrong for me to, but I still love her and I hope you all understand that I hate myself for it, so please don't be rude to me. I was already nervous enough to post this. And if anyone tries to tell me how I feel trust me, I know how i felt about her. I have a locket with her picture in it that I cant wear anymore. I hope anyone that is going through what I am knows that my dms are always open and that this is not your fault.

And Talia if you are seeing this I'm sorry and I truly do love you, but the pain started to be too much as of today when I found out. I'm sorry, I hope you find your way in life. I hope you are okay.

People I think should read this: @sexy-for-cedric @were-not-doing-get-help @georgeswh0re @quindolyn @krasivayadarling @inureflower @just-the-best-devil @mrzweasley

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mysticdragon3md3 · 4 years ago

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DMCL fic readlist:

A Union of Kings by Jam Blute (CrookedCompass)

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

Soft Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

Soft Claude von Riegan

Marriage Proposal

Summary:

The Almyran party meets for negotiations at Fódlan's Locket under the guidance of King Dimitri, and on a rare break, another union entirely is forged between the two kings on the grounds of a happy misunderstanding.

Chapters: 1/1

We Build Tomorrow on the Graces of Today by ShiDreamin

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

Tiana von Riegan

Claude von Riegan's Mother

Claude von Riegan's Father

Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Engagement

Political Alliances

Slow Burn

Summary:

He was Khalid when he met Dimitri again.

Nearly two years after the end of Fodlan's war, Dimitri receives a letter asking him to travel to Almyra to meet the future King. He doesn't expect to find Claude, and he certainly doesn't expect to find himself engaged to Claude. It's all for the sake of bettering their nations... isn't it?

Chapters: 5/20

Shared Retreat by Graytrickster

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

so much fluff at firststar crossed lovers

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Fix It Fic

Eventual Happy Ending

lot of fluff then so much angst

Joint route, fix it fic au. Switching POVs

PLEASE note tag, rating and content warning changes as the story progresses.

Chapters: 9/?

show me the foothold from which i can climb by mother_hearted for overplays

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Friends to Lovers

Summary:

In the aftermath of war, Dimitri struggles to build peace in Fodlan when he cannot find peace within himself. ...he somehow makes his way to Leicester on an unconventional sabbatical. ...Dimitri stumbles through his grief... and into Claude's arms.

Claude's departure to Almyra is already in the books, eager to put his experiences from Fodlan to good use. ...he didn't account for: Dimitri...infiltrating his heart...

Chapters: 10/?

Golden Dawn by dvrtrblhr

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

Original Golden Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Summary:

A "What if the House Leaders were forced to fend the bandits off by themselves?", "What if Byleth decided she didn't want to be a teacher?" and "What if the House Leaders had more opportunities to get to know each other?" story.

Chapters: 29/?

with this ring by asael

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan

Arranged Marriage

Assassination Attempt(s)

Summary:

To secure a vital alliance, newly-crowned King Dimitri marries a young prince of Almyra. ...In order to survive, they'll have to learn how to trust each other - somehow.

Chapters: 6/8

The Savior King, The Master Tactician and the Queen of Liberation by ReynaAtTheEnd

Summary:

A merging of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer storylines.

Part 1 of Verdant Moon, Azure Winds

Chapters: 89/?

#fanfiction #dmcl #reminders #readlist #read later #fe3h

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buckstaposition · 5 years ago

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I cling to your lips like gloss (1)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

now also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (if u wanna come say hello on main)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death

words: 5521

Author’s note: dude this chapter fought me every step of the way but it’s here now so suck it, muses or whatever

---

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries (thank you sweeties whom I will hold forever in my heart)

(message me if you want to be added to the list)

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

'Liliana' the file said. I was tucked away in the locked bottom drawer of his old desk, the one he hadn't even had time to clear out when they'd sent him away. To be fair, Javier had only known to look because Murphy had called him to tell him about this informant. It sounded too good to be true. An informant coming to them of their own accord, ready to spill valuable inside secrets of the Calí cartel, and they didn't even want payment? One would be forgiven, in their line of work, to smell a trap. But Murphy had vouched for this one, and he trusted Murphy, knew that his partner (former partner) did his homework with due diligence. That, and the first batch of intel Murphy had brought back from their first few meetings had already proven invaluable.

There was apparently only one hiccup, and it was that the informant refused to talk to any agents other than him or Murphy. It had even led to Steve having to postpone his return to the States for almost two months, until it was clear that Javier would return to Colombia. Fair enough, he'd need to make up his own mind about them anyway. He collected the file and tucked it into the box that held all the stuff he'd cleared out of the desk, since he would now officially be moving a an office of his own.

Upon arriving in said office, he kicked the door closed and sat, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the file. As thin as it was, it still took him almost an hour to work through it, though half of the time was spent deciphering Murphy's chicken scratch mess of annotations. The rest was spent on making his own. After checking the time, Javier fetched himself a cup of the same old tar brew that passed for coffee here, lit another cigarette, and dialled Steve's new office number in Miami.

"Murphy."

"Alright, I've read the file." Javier started without preamble. Perhaps that was a bit short. He grimaced, then added, "About the informant. Liliana."

"Yeah, I figured." Steve exhaled probably puffing away at his own nicotine habit. Javier meant to quit, but kept pushing it off. The intent was all there was to it, at this stage. "So what're you calling me for, big boss?"

Javier elected to ignore the taunt, knowing it was friendly.

"You've met her. Is she legit?"

"Why, you smelling a trap?"

Pathological mistrust was a feature one acquired while on this job. Those who didn't ended up dead. Those who did would still end up dead, just later and more jaded. Either way you'd get a lot of other people killed on the way. "Just making sure."

They spent the next half hour and a bit going over the file together, comparing notes, catching up, thinking aloud - all of which were much easier to do when they had each other to bounce off of. It felt good, almost like old times. Javier went through close to a third of his pack of cigarettes, the air growing heavy in the windowless room. Just as well that it was almost time to wrap this up. A look at his watch told him that it was getting late in the day, and that Steve would want to get home to his family. All Javier could hope for at this point was avoiding resident CIA-asshole Bill Stechner on his way out, at least on this day.

"You won't be able to pull your usual shit with this one." Steve remarked, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Javier bristled, even though he knew the things people said about him, both behind his back and to his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Knowing didn't mean it didn't, occasionally, sting, but he'd given up on trying to influence other people's minds long ago. A reputation once acquired was not easily shed, not that he'd made much of an effort to.

"It means that you shouldn't. Pull your usual crap with this one. For one I hardly think it'll be necessary."

"That would be new." Javier snorted. He could hear Steve's eyeroll through the phone.

"Still the same asshole-" Steve snarked. "I'm just saying be nice for once, especially since that woman's intel is the only reason you still have a job. She's a nice lady, so with a bit of luck some of that might even rub off on you."

"And I'm the asshole..."

"So everyone keeps saying."

"Fuck you, Steve."

"Go fuck yourself, Javi." Steve's chuckle told him it was all in good humor. "And don't fuck this informant."

"Yeah, yeah," Javier waved it off. The woman was an accountant, for fuck's sake. Note exactly his usual type. Or the type he usually attracted.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

They were meeting at one of the small restaurants lining the edge of Parque Sabaneta in Medellín. Over the phone her voice had sounded... hesitant, above all else. Tinny, too, but he blamed the connection for that. And he'd brought her a satellite phone for future contacts; her driving out to remote phone cells and him waiting for calls after hours in his office just didn't cut it.

There hadn't been a picture in the file, but Steve's description had been quite accurate and Javier was able to pick her out at the table she'd chosen before making himself known. Dark hair and darker eyes behind large, slightly old-fashioned glasses. She was almost tall and hid her figure underneath loose-fitted clothing; today a flowy blouse and high-waisted dress pants, and a bulky cardigan against the spring chill that lingered even into the late morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun that reminded him of his fifth grade math teacher, Ms Jenkins. Javier approached the table.

"Diana Rivas?" She froze for a split-second before relaxing again, returning his greeting softly. In real life her voice was deeper than he would have anticipated, raspier too, but not unpleasant - the kind of voice one would expect first thing in the morning, just after waking up.

"I do hope your drive was not too tiring, Agent Peña." she said as he sat. He grimaced slightly. The drive had been long, above all else. Not his first choice of how to spend a Friday morning. Well, he'd endured worse for this job. But next time he'd definitely travel by plane.

"Do they serve decent coffee here?" Javier scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and settled, resuming his assessment. She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze, but squared her shoulders after a moment, meeting his gaze head-on and motioning a waiter over with a flick of her delicate wrist.

"Of course they do, this is Medellín!" She sounded mildly offended, then ignored him in favor of telling the waiter their order. Javier took the time to observe her further.

No make-up, no jewellery, save for a simple, functional watch and a small silver locket on a long, thin chain. No wedding band either, but the paleness and indentation around her ring finger still indicated that she'd worn one in the recent past. Her features were soft and feminine, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, all making her look younger than she purportedly was. His gaze caught on her defined cupid's bow just a second too long. Her complexion seemed far too sunkissed for someone who spent most of their time indoors, in air-conditioned office spaces. In conclusion, undeniably lovely to anyone with eyes who cared to look, but obviously taking great pains to discourage closer scrutiny, to look as mousy and plain as possible. It worked, to a degree.

It occurred to Javier that maybe he should actually talk to her, since that's what he'd come here for.

"Do you always begin your interrogations with the silent treatment? I can see how that might be effective." She beat him to it, just before the coffee cups were set on the table in front of them.

"This isn't an interrogation." he groused, taking a tentative sip of the coffee. The scent of it alone was enough to wake the dead; it was heavenly. He'd have to see if he could weasel some halfway decent coffee out of his budget at the office.

"Regardless, I only have until noon today. We can meet again tomorrow; I can make myself available all afternoon for you, Agent Peña."

Javier huffed out a breath before taking another sip. "Why can you suddenly do Medellín anyway? You had Murphy travel across half the country to meet you."

She made a face at that, something between annoyed and apologetic. "My aunt, she... she's sick and been getting worse. I make the time to come down here every other weekend now to help her."

"And your employers are alright with that?" He hadn't exactly pegged the Calí cartel for employers of the year. Or to pioneer part-time models so their employees could care for sick relatives.

"As long as the work gets done, yes. It means I work ten to eleven hour days Monday to Thursday, but I am the only one left in this family..." She sniffled a little and swept the tips of her fingers under the plastic rim of her glasses, wiping at her eyes. Javier looked away, pretending it was to give her privacy. He imagined this unusually forthright woman walking up to Pacho Herrera to ask for reduced work hours so she could care for her aunt- That could really have gone either way, but somehow he thought that was probably not how it happened, or whom she'd asked. He just couldn't picture it. Maybe one of the brothers; they liked to style themselves as charitable family men, to a degree.

"Anyway, Medellín's closer for you, and we're less likely to be found out here. They like to keep security pretty tight in Calí. My friend Angelika calls it the Calí Stasi, and she's from the former East Germany, so she'd know."

He hummed in acknowledgement, his coffee almost gone and him almost feeling like a living human being again. He flagged the waiter down for another.

"In any case, I am glad that we can keep this to Spanish now. My English is not very ...confident." She prattled on, sipping from her own cup. Murphy had told him that she'd brought a dictionary to their first meeting, and apparently, with his former partner's dismal language skills, they'd actually needed it.

"I'm sure your English is better than Murphy's Spanish." Steve had told him as much, but then again, Steve's Spanish was shit, so it really wasn't saying much. There was something else niggling at the back of his mind.

"Why me?"

Her glasses slid down her nose half an inch or so in surprise at his -admittedly abrupt- question. "I'm sorry?"

"Murphy said you wanted to speak to me specifically when you first called. Why?"

She hesitated a moment, squirmed a little and averted her eyes, then pushed her glasses back up her nose before answering, softer than before. "Gabriela said you could be trusted."

"...Gabriela?" He said sharply, neck flushing at the thought of the beautiful redhead.

She shrunk in on herself, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Perhaps his voice had come out a little bit harsher than intended. He hadn't even thought that she'd actually tell him her real name. He'd just been a client after all.

"Yes," Miss Rivas breathed out, her voice so soft now that he had to lean halfway across the table to even catch it. "She's my best friend. We've been inseparable since the firts day of school. We tell each other everything. She told me she knew a DEA agent; that's why I told my cousin to go to her when she ran into trouble with Pablo Escobar-"

"Your cousin???" He almost roared. It came out as more of a whisper-yell, but she still flinched, eyes going wide behind the lenses.

"Yes, my cousin," she said carefully, "Maritza Rincón."

"Maritza–" he patted his pocket for a smoke and swore under his breath when he remembered how he'd left them in the car with the intention of advancing his 'quit smoking'-idea beyond idle talk. "What is this, a fucking trap? Very elaborate setup just to yell at me, missy. Unless you've got some buddies of yours here to–"

"What- what are you *talking* about? I don't blame you for Maritza's death!" By now people were staring. Not a lot of them, since it wasn't really the time yet for the midday crowd and too late for the morning rush, but the few pensioners and whatnot were definitely sensing the tension at their table. Javier gave up on his cigarette search and took a deliberate breath, willing himself to calm down.

"Maritza is dead?" He hadn't known that. He wasn't sure how he would have learned of it, but it still shocked him regardless. He looked over to see her fidget with her locket, lips pressed tight and trembling. Shit. Another informant on his conscience, fucking great.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he started, his voice catching. He bought himself time with his now lukewarm coffee, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I-"

"It's alright." She whispered, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wasn't. She swept her glasses off with trembling fingers and pressed beneath her eyes, as if to restrain the tears that pooled in her lashes.

"I'm sorry." Javier said again, insistent, soft, sincere. "What happened?"

"We- I don't know. She called me to say she was in trouble with Escobar, and I helped her set up the meeting with Gabi."

"With me." He remembered that evening, that young girl sitting in Gabriela's apartment, ready to be sprung on him. Part of him had resented it; Gabriela had been someone he'd sought out to get away from the damn narcos and their dealings. Miss Rivas nodded.

"Yes. It was that idiot Jhon. He was one of the neighborhood kids. Growing up he'd always had a crush on her..." She talked a lot, he found. It should irritate him more, the way she'd throw in seemingly irrelevant asides without explaining further. Instead he only found himself worrying that someone so pathologically honest could not possibly keep the Gentlemen of Calí off her tracks, at least not if she kept spilling her life story so eagerly.

" ...and then she hid out on her uncle's farm again, where my auntie - her mom - grew up and went back to after my uncle - that's Maritza's dad - died of a heart attack. Auntie had been out for the day and when she came back- "

He can't bear to listen to it, but forces himself to anyway. In the sea of his regrets, what's one more? Besides, there's nothing else he can do for the girl now; the least he can do is witness how he failed her.

For all her unassuming bluntness, Diana Rivas is not one to hold back, even on unsavoury details. At least he doesn't get the sense that she does it to torment when she tells him how they found Maritza's lifeless body with her young daughter next to her.

By the end of that sorry tale, he has his head in his hands, Miss Rivas is still just this side of openly weeping, and all the other patrons have demonstratively averted their attention so as not to impose on what must, on the outside, look like an urgent case for a damned good couples' counselor.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot." And why in the hell is she apologizing?

"No shit." And yeah, he has to digest this before he can even think of making any attempt at non-destructive human interaction. "You couldn't tell Murphy any of this?"

She gave him a look.

"Yeah, alright. Sorry." More than just a language barrier, got it.

"I didn't come here today with the intention to relive this, you know?" She said archly. He supposed she had all the right to be upset. And he'd never had a meeting with an informant turn this harrowing, which was really saying something.

"I'm sorry." He said again, putting the weight of sincerity behind the words. Her hands were in the table now, fidgeting again as she sat slightly hunched over, staring into her coffee cup.

"Unless your government has a time machine to spare, I would prefer not talking about it again. At least not more than necessary." She replaced her glasses and checked her watch. "1 pm tomorrow?"

Javier nodded dumbly, already plucking a few bills out of his wallet to pay for the coffee. "Yeah, 1 pm is okay. Where?"

"Meet me at the church. Santa Ana. You know it?" He didn't particularly, as in he didn't know its name before now, but he could see the building's tall white facade from where they were sitting.

"Iglesia de Santa Ana, 1 pm tomorrow." Javier confirmed, rising as she did. The stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to conclude this meeting, until she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took her smaller, slender hand in his, squeezing it wordlessly.

"Until tomorrow, Agent Peña." She said, managing a sad little smile. "I hope you'll get some rest. You look like shit."

Javier bit down every one of the snarky replies that sprung to mind, not least because he knew it was true. His bags had bags and he itched for a smoke.

And to think, this was Murphy's 'nice lady'.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that at the church meant inside the church. Not until a very miffed face peered out between the heavy doors, giving him a look as he stood there smoking.

"It's barely been five minutes!" Javier defended himself, stubbing out the cigarette beneath his heel.

"It's 1:07pm." She informed him matter-of-factly, pushing the glasses back up her nose pointedly as she made to turn back inside. Javier caught the door, crowding perhaps a bit too close, but the damned thing was heavy.

"Sorry." He said simply, seeing no point in making a scene out of it. She had to crane her neck just the slightest bit to meet his gaze.

"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute." And with that she stalked off. Javi watched her sweep down the aisle, her hair and skirt fluttering behind her. She wore her hair loose today, the ends of it curling around her shoulders, and a simple off-white shirt dress that reached down to mid-calf. He let his eyes trail after her, leaning his weight more fully against the heavy wood of the door to lever it open. She walked around two thirds of the way down the pews before stopping by a... baby carriage?

She bent over it before carefully wheeling it around and starting back towards the door. Javier racked his tired brain. The file hadn't said anything about a kid. Married five years but no children. That didn't seem like the kind of thing one would easily miss, and he knew Murphy to be thorough in his inquiries.

"Who's this then?" He peered inside the carriage -more of a buggy really now that he got a closer look- and barely caught a glance of a dozing toddler with soft brown curls, while hoisting the door open wider to let her pass more easily. "Didn't know you had a kid."

"I don't." The buggy caught on the threshold and jolted, and a displeased cry came from inside it, making her curse under her breath. "This is Maritza's daughter, Salome. I've got it! Just- the door, just get the door!"

The last part of that came out high and sharp, much like the crack of a whip, and in direct response to Javier's attempt to swoop in and help heave the buggy over the worn-down threshold. He jolted back on instinct, grunting when the door swung squarely into his spine. Who the hell was responsible for all these old-ass church doors being solid enough to squash an actual living human between them?

After some fumbling they managed to make it out with most of their dignity still intact. Javier bent down and quickly shoved the bag he'd brought into the wire basket underneath the buggy's seat, next to her purse.

"Where to?" He asked, straightening up again. Miss Rivas still looked cross, her lips pressed together.

"Follow along. There are some secluded benches a little walk away." And off she was, leavin him to catch up.

"If your intention is to disguise this meeting as just another family enjoying the sun I suggest you slow down a little." Javier hissed under his breath. He'd actually had to jog a bit to keep up with her steamroller pace. She looked even more annoyed and declined to grace him with an answer, but slowed with a sigh that told him that this was indeed her intention. It was a smart enough plan, he wouldn't dispute that.

At least the kid seemed to have calmed from her little jostle-startle, seeing as she was now quietly babbling away as if narrating the sights. Javier tried to loosen his tense shoulders and to look like he was enjoying himself as they fell into step ambling along the walkways between the lush greenery.

"How old is she?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some small talk would ease the woman's sullen mood.

"Almost two and a half." Or not. Well, he tried. Javier wasn't exactly an expert with kids and none of his previous informants had ever shown up with theirs. Not that that would have been appropriate considering the circumstances. They walked for about a quarter of an hour, which Javier spent agonizing about how to smooth over the sudden mood change Miss Rivas was displaying compared to the day before. By the time they'd made it to their destination he was no closer to that goal.

She sat with a weary sigh, shaking out her flowy skirt before sitting and rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It was much warmer today than when they'd met previously, only in part due to the later hour. Stiffly, Javier sat down next to her at a distance that instantly belied their 'family outing' cover. She turned to him after checking on the baby, peeling back the sunshade of the buggy to allow her to look around.

"You can smoke if you want to." Miss Rivas said offhandedly, her tone forcedly polite. Javier cleared his throat.

"I'm actually trying to quit."

Her lips quirked into a pleasant curve. "And how's that going?"

Javier sighed. "I'm thinking I might have chosen the wrong time."

"Or the wrong job."

The laugh that bursts forth from him is short, but not altogether hollow. "Yeah, or that."

"Very well, then you may not smoke even though you might want to."

Javier smiled. Couldn't help it, really. He had been worried that he'd somehow managed to offend her during their last meeting. He said as much, and she shook her head with a look of remorse.

"No, it's not your fault. It's just..." She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, revealing the dark rings that had previously been hidden beneath the plastic rim. "Yesterday dredged up some things, and I didn't sleep well as a consequence. That always makes me snippy. And to top things of, this one," she leaned over to unbuckle the child and heave her into her lap, "was being fussy all morning, which didn't help. Sorry for being so short with you earlier."

"In this job, people usually shoot at me. It's alright, really. You're alright." Truth be told, he was glad she pulled herself out of this funk. Maybe she was as nice as Murphy claimed after all. The kid looked at him with large, round, strangely sage eyes. I got your mommy killed. I got your mommy killed and you had to watch. If he had gotten her that visa- The thought made him gulp, made him dizzy and nauseous and if there was anything to be glad for in this situation it was that he was already sitting down. Miss Rivas replaced her glasses and looked at him with furrowed brows. He felt like he was being read.

"I already told you that I don't blame you for Maritza." Javier tried his damnedest not to squirm underneath that discerning stare. Screw read, he felt like he was being flayed open. "Obviously you still blame yourself."

"Wouldn't you?" He shot back, defensive. She didn't answer for a moment, gently rocking the kid who had grabbed a hold of her locket and started to play with it.

"I have enough regrets of my own, Agent Peña." Part of him wants to scoff, even just to dispel the heavy moment, but the severity in her tone nips that impulse in the bud. Instead, he clears his throat and gestures to the buggy where he stored his bag earlier.

"I brought you something."

Her features soften into not quite a smile, but something close enough. "What a coincidence, so have I."

And then she hands him the toddler, who lets out a displeased cry at having her toy wrenched from her chubby hands in so unceremonious a manner, and Javier freezes as her squirmy weight is settled in his lap, only his hand shooting out to steady her on instinct. Up close her big brown eyes are even more enormous.

"Um, hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Salome. I'm Javier." He says awkwardly and is met with a pout. This is patently terrible and reminds him of the few times he'd been handed baby Olivia. She'd started crying instantly nine times out of ten. He hopes against hope that today will be a deviation from that norm. Salome considers him a long moment, blinking owlishly and making that certain kind of skeptical face that little kids so often do. He's had less tense moments in interrogations. He might be sweating in a way that has little to do with the midday heat.

And then Salome blows him a raspberry and dives for his wrist to investigate the shininess of his watch. And when he can breathe again he allows himself a smile. Of relief, mostly. In stark contrast to the smile Miss Rivas wears as she regeards them both, which is pure mischief with a dash of smugness.

"Well look at that. You passed muster, Agent Peña." Miss Rivas set both their bags down in the space between them, then leaned over to press a quick kiss to little Salome's soft curls. And Javier has been much closer to many women than this; his heart shouldn't lurch at the sudden proximity, the waft of her perfume or the light brush of her soft hair over his bare forearm.

"Ladies first." Javier gestured at the bags between them. She smiled and rummaged through hers, producing two thick stacks of folded papers, either parcel secured with a rubber band.

"Trade you?" she motioned at the girl, who was now intently examining the fingers of his right hand. Reluctantly, he let Miss Rivas pluck the small child from his lap and stand her next to the bench. Salome frowned adorably for a moment at having been interrupted in pulling his pinky finger off, then realized she was free to roam around and brightened instantly, hitting the bench a few times with chubby palms and babbling.

"Yes, of course I have your toy, sweetie." Miss Rivas said earnestly, presenting a brightly colored ball. Salome grabbed for it with a squeal, her momentum propelling her straight onto her backside. Miss Rivas turned back to Javier with that soft, fond expression still on her face and handed him one of the parcels.

"Do... did you want to go over this? While I'm here to explain things?"

"That complex, huh?"

"Well, it's a lot to do with creative book-keeping and tax law loopholes. It's more about how they structure their business to launder their incomes than anything else, but it'll still be helpful in building a case, no?"

It is, which is the whole reason he's been sent back here apparently. And while it's nothing the analysts back at the office can't handle (probably), he still likes being in the loop. And also maybe because he enjoys the sound of her voice. In any case he peels off the rubber band and unfolds the stack of papers, keeping a careful hand around it to ensure that nothing blows away in the spring breeze. Miss Rivas pulled out a pencil from her purse and shuffled closer. Close enough that he can smell her perfume again. - - - Over the following hour and a half Javier realized several important things:

One. Diana Rivas is likely one of the cleverest people he has ever met. By page eight his head is swimming with numbers, but her even explanations make even tiered corporate tax rebate systems sound fascinating. Even in his line of work, he'd never truly considered accounting to be the stuff of suspense, but she makes it sound like a thriller that even the brightest heads in Hollywood would have trouble coming up with.

Two. Having to do anything while keeping an eye in a rambunctious small child who is still learning to walk is a uniquely stressful experience. Little Salome is bouncing around the small patch of grass in front of the bench much like her ball, endowed with seemingly endless reservoirs of energy. She crashes into his knee a few times while chasing her ball or deciding that playing hide and seek underneath the bench is a better use of her time, and it puts him on edge that he feels responsible at all.

Three. The Rodríguez brothers make more than enough money from their few legitimate businesses to never have to worry themselves financially. Not that this had been in question, technically, but to see the numbers in black and white is still galling, even if he's not nearly as incensed about it as Miss Rivas seems to be. And while Javier is far from a religious man, he does consider greed that is levered with blood to be at least distateful.

Four. It's not her perfume he smelled earlier, but her shampoo, bright and fruity, with high notes of citrus.

Five. As long as this is all they have and all she can get, the DEA cannot make a move against the Calí cartel. His orders had been very clear on that. Nail them down beyond escape and make absolutely sure you get them into custody, in that order. It means that whatever Miss Rivas can reveal about the inner financial working of the cartel is valuable, but on its own won't be enough. As always in this job it's sorting through a haystack with a rake in search of needlepoints.

Which brings him to the next thing he needs to ask her. Needs to ask her to do for him, and the operation, to be specific, and he can already tell she'll say yes eagerly. Eager informants should be a blessing, but their eagerness seems to directly correlate with their likelihood of getting killed, or close enough.

"This is for you." He says instead, handing her the satellite phone. There's directions that go with it, but he takes the time to walk her through it nonetheless. Also his numbers, both office and home, just in case. He watched as she carefully tucked everything into her purse.

It's later in the afternoon now - past three - and Salome comes toddling over, handing Javier her ball and sitting down on the grassy ground with a world-weary sigh.

"Okay, time for your nap I think, young lady." Miss Rivas plucked the child from the ground and stood to deposit her back in the buggy, then holding out her hand to him expectantly. He hands the ball over after a split-second of dumbstruck hesitation.

"Well, goodbye then, Agent Peña."

He stood. Offered her his hand to shake, which she took. "I'll call you during the week. What time is good for you?"

"Any time between seven and ten. I'll probably be in Medellín again in a month. I'll let you know if I have more intel by then." He nodded, finally releasing her hand after realizing he still had her fingers clasped in his. She smiled and turned to leave, wheeling the buggy around from its resting position and onto the footpath. "Oh, and Agent Peña?" She turned halfway, throwing the words over her shoulder with a smirk. "Gabriela won't be available tonight, just so you know. We're meeting for dinner and general catching up."

His neck flushed hotly, both despite and because he'd had no intention of visiting her.

"Thanks," he said stiffly, "Give her my best."

"Will do!"

Shaking his head, Javier watched her retreat until she disappeared from view behind a bend in the path.

-------------------------------------------------------

Further author’s note bc apparently I have more to say:

I’m gonna play a bit fast and loose with the timeline, because the show makes it look like Javi was sent back pretty much immediately and it only took those ~6 months to take down the cartel bosses, but in reality Escobar died in December of 1993 and the Calí godfathers weren’t arrested until summer of ‘95, so I’m sending Javi back to Colombia in the first half of ‘94 (April to be specific), meaning the time frame for this story is about a year

also I thought Maritza’s daughter in the series was still a baby, but upon rewatch it is actually stated in s2 ep4 that she’s two, and now I had to rewrite those parts. As to why she doesn’t speak, that’s actually something that will come up later and has nothing to do with my bad memory of the series. though tbh I probably assumed that because Olivia was a baby for like three years. (also according to the timeline I determined Maritza’s daugher would actually be between three and four at this point, but I’m going to disregard that. I’ve already had to age her up once and for the purposes of this story I need her to be still this little)

Chapter 2

#narcos (tv)#javier pena x ofc #series #I cling to your lips like gloss (series)#multipart #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfic #my writing #part 1 #like gloss tag

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isidar-mithrim · 4 years ago

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Thank you for the tag @fightfortherightsofhouseelves and @clarensjoy!!

Also, I’ll take this opportunity to apologize for all the tag-chain/game I ignored lately! I’m quite busy this period and while I do still check tumblr almost daily – especially now that I can’t wait for new @giblimort‘s amazing portraits *_* – it’s more like a few-minute scroll in the homepage and maybe read the occasional ficlet so I might miss the tags or more probably I might be lazy about answering them ^^’ But it always makes me smile that someone thought of me, so be aware that it’s appreciated and it makes my day lighter <3 @narukoibito @sybill-the-seer @ballerinaroy and I’m surely forgetting someone ^^’

Fandoms: Harry Potter, the one and only ;)

Where you post: Tumblr and Ao3, but I also have an account on the italian fan fiction page EFP (but my last stories are missing and most of the old ones that I’ve translated needs to be changed/edited, so I would kinda beg any passing italians to read them in English or ask me what version I would suggest XD). And one on Wattpad that I haven’t updated in a long while...

Most popular one-shot: Well I’m not sure what defines “popular” here, so I’ll kinda cheat and check the Ao3 stats I think for the first time ever and give you:

one for “most hits”: Fantasies [NSFW and basically Hinny PWP, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised it’s the one with most hits XD]

one for “most kudos”: Standing on tiptoe [whoa, hadn’t seen it coming!]

one for “most bookmarks”: Letters for beyond (featuring the Potters)

one for “most comment threads”: so there are 4 with the same number, two of them are the two above, and between the remaining two I’ll pick A new beginning, a post-war chat between Harry and Neville ^^

Most popular multi-chapter: among my only two proper multi chapters, of which one is incomplete so far and with just 2 chapter and the other is complete with just 3 short chapter (what an achievement XD), Better than fireworks is the one among all of my stories, including one shots, with “most bookmark”, “most subscriptions” (by far) and also “most comments threads”: [all this support is absolutely amazing, but I admit also kinda make me feel guilty because it’s almost been a year since I posted it and promised to finish it, ups ^^’ And the ironic thing is that I still plan too. One day. Maybe XD]

But I’ll also cheat a little bit again, naming a4 one-shots series, “Have a biscuit”. If you like Neville and McGonagall, I’ll be honored if you’d give it a try ^^

Favourite story written so far: Ahhh that’s a tough one, I tend to be quite fond of my stories (yay for the modesty, lol – I swear that when I’m not that thrilled I always admit it, though XD)... Let’s say “As though by a mother” but I might give a different answer in a week XD

Fic you were nervous to post: I’m not sure I’m never actually “nervous” before posting (more like, afraid that the story won’t appreciated as a I hope/that it won’t interest people), but I guess I must have been a bit nervous before posting my first ever pic translated in English, which also happens to have a not-so-usual writing style: And yet it tastes good

How you choose your titles: Ahhhh, good question. I guess it depends. Tbh I’m not that good at titles, or sometime I have a (supposedly) great one in Italian that doesn’t really translate (or isn’t that good) in English or viceversa. [Example: the “Have a biscuit” serie has English titles that I like way better than the italians, but a story like “Souls of Ink”, while having a good ring in English, to me it’s way more powerful and poetic in Italian, “Anime d’inchiostro”].

Sometimes I don’t have a title until the end and I kinda throw something there, sometimes I have the title from the very beginning and it could be a big part in inspiring the story. I tend to use title that are neither too short nor too long, and I don’t usually use songs quotes or the like. Plus, I’m very happy if the words/phrasing of the title recur literally or metaphorically in the story! I also try to match the “feeling” of the title (and the summary) with the “feeling” of the story. Like, I’d go for a more poetic/dramatic one for an angst story, and for a more comedic-like one for something more fluffy or silly.

Complete: Well, that’s easy, since I mostly stay away from multi-chapters XD (and for good reasons – see above XD) All my one shots, and most of my “closed” series, as in, series that I imagined with a beginning and an end or something like that (so, series like “Next Generation” don’t really have a complete/incomplete status)

In progress: Again “Better than Fireworks”, and I’ve also just realised that I’ve yet to finish translating (despite being at a decent point) the second and last chapter of “Of Matilda, war and Peace” [speaking about being bad a title, lol XD] Ups ^^’

Coming soon/Not yet started: ahhh coming soon probably nothing, ehm, but I’ve at least 4 one shots in the making and that I want to finish one day (most of them started months if not a years ago... I’ll list them below), plus the draft for the rest of Better than Fireworks, plus several random missing-moments or AUs ideas and a long Hinny post-war story started few years ago in Italian (roughly 100.000 written) that needs to be heavily rewritten, translated and possibly finished ^^ Same for a shorter bit of a Jily seventh-year story, if we have to say it all...

“Ghost of the past”, a Hinny one shot from Ginny’s pov with a difficult conversation – I’m very fond of this one, but I have to work on the second part/end. The first/main part is finished and even betaed by the amazing @narukoibito! <3

“Of those who stayed”, a silver trio one shot – again from Ginny’s pov – during DH, when they try to steal the sword. I’ve the first (long) chapter done and again, even betaed by the wonderful @floreatcastellumposts but knowing myself I want to finish it first. I might decide that it’s okay like this (in Italian I’ve already posted it a one shot), but since I had a sort of sequel in mind for now it’ll stay in my drafts ;)

“The man who lived” – This one is all in just Italian so far (I’m rewriting an old piece – I’d probably restart it directly in English now); again Ginny’s pov (wow, hadn’t realised it!), again DH, this time since she (in my head canon) realise Harry might have gone to Voldemort during the battle, until the end of the battle

A one shot that’s it’s a series of Hinny snippets about James Sirius Potter coming to life (from the very start). Old one written in Italian and never posted, that a again needs to be finished. Same for a collection of snippets around Hinny’s wedding (but this is “draftier”)

A one shot of Harry and the Potters waling Teddy at King Cross; I’ve just a very little bit of it written + most of the draft, and it would be the sequel of the one shot “What parents would want”

The random Missing Moments that I’ve have in mind are: a conversation between Bill and Ginny in the hospital wing in HBP, plus maybe a bit more from Ginny’s pov in that period (like going back home from Hogwarts); a conversation between Bill and Ron in DH, not sure if during Ron’s first or second stay and Shell Cottage; Hermione finding out about Arthur’s attack; Dumbledore taking Slughorn’s memory (when it happened, how he found out... I’ve several head canon about it!)

The random AUs moments (and I say moments just because I wouldn’t really be interested in writing a whole story, I only imagine few moments of it): Hermione brining Harry at the Burrow at Christmas after Godric’s Hollow, with is locket attached to his chest (I think I stole the idea from Flo’s!); the trio finding Ginny in the cell in Malfoy Manor as well; and some dumb “Lily and James are resurrected post DH” trash XD Oh, also a real muggle AU with Harry as a self-defence coach and Ginny as trainee!

Do you accept prompts? As you can imagine especially in this period I’m not very good at commitment ^^’, but if you have a specific idea and want to give it a try (maybe during the winter holidays?) I’d be honored, if not able to make any promises!

Upcoming works you’re most excited about: definitely “Ghost of the past”!

I’m tagging @ballerinaroy again, @remedial-potions, @thedistantdusk, @thebiwholived and whoever wants to join ^^

EDIT: Ehm I got caught up with the stats when I wrote this and without realizing it I put a multi chapter in the “Most popular one shot” section, lol XD Problem fixed ;)

#tag game #I love doing it!#sorry if I've ignored most of the tag game so far #but it take me like an hour to do this so you can imagine why I have to step back from these kind of things usually XD #I get clearly caught up XD #draft list #wip list #drafts #wips #wip #work in progress

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demivampirew · 4 years ago

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Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 29

Previous Chapters in the masterlist

Triggers: Panic attack; anxiety; crying.

Tag list: Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank you so much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too ☺️ (I think I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to tag you, tell me ☺️ ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo constip8merm8 penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen littlefreya wondersofdreaming alyxkbrl solariumss sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog @lunedelorient @michelle-1185 @madbaddic7ed @summersong69 @kaatelyyynn

The sweet melody force Henry to wake up. The combination of an angelic voice and piano wasn't something he wanted to miss. As he approached the living room, he saw you playing the keyboards while singing some beautiful lyrics. He leaned against the wall to listen to the delightful tune without distracting you.

You're all I need my one belief the winds of time will carry me to live without dubiety don't let this ever end

We've flow afar beyond the sea to find each other finally we've waited long and patiently to build a bridge between dualities.

Shivers ran through his body, the combination of your voice, the soft instrumental and the lovely lyrics gave him chills. You were writing the final lyrics of your new song when you finally noticed him.

- Sorry, babe, did I wake you up? - you apologized. - Yep, but it doesn't matter. That's the greatest way of waking up.-he replied, grinning. His lips felt dry as he gave you a tender good morning kiss. - I have to give you a lip balm.- you said playfully and he laughed.

As you made kissing sounds and called his name, Kal appeared from the kitchen, where he was bitting a bone- and went straight to Henry. As you did for his birthday, you put a little surprise for Henry in the doggy's collar. He kneeled on the floor and then took the tiny gift bag and inside of it, there was a silver locket that contained two photos: one was Kal and the other was a picture of you. The gift also included a little card: "Happy Father's day, daddy! Love, Kal." A huge smile appeared on his face.

- I love it, Kal, thank you!- he exclaimed while petting his furry son. Then, he lifted his head and looked at you with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, "Thanks, baby" he added. - It was Kal's idea. He's even so egocentric that he put himself as well.- you joked referring to the fact that your picture was there with the Akita. Seeing and heard him laugh was among you're favourite things on the entire world. If he was happy, you could feel the sunshine hit you no matter the time of the day, the season or the weather. As Taylor's song says " I see sparks fly whenever you smile".

Later that day, you called your dad to congratulate him on his day. Henry had his own zoom family reunion for Father's Day. It wasn't a lie that you couldn't be there because you were going to phone your old man, but there was also the anxiety of intruding in something private. It didn't matter how in love you were with each other, you felt that 4 months of dating wasn't enough time together to be part of those special moments, especially after his birthday. Due to the pandemic and the fact that his family lived far away from him, you haven't had the chance to meet them yet, at least personally, so you felt that they might felt curious and ask questions and it'd seem that you were stealing their thunder. Today was all about his dad and his brothers. Despite avoiding the Cavill online hang out, you made sure to salute them on father's day. You sent a direct message to Charlie, the only member of your boyfriend's family you had the chance to talk several times when he and Henry video-called and you had a good relationship with. You included him and the rest of them in your Father's Day post on Instagram as well as pleading Henry to deliver your best wishes. Your day couldn't be better, you felt. While you scrolled through Instagram, giving likes to your friend's post delivering sweet thankful words to their dads, partners, etc a notification let you know that Henry posted as well. After going to his account, a bright smile appeared on your face as you saw the photo he posted. It was a photo from his childhood; in it, he was standing next to his brothers and his father. He was leaning against his younger sibling with the rest standing behind them with the Cavill Senior besides his sons. Only one of the children wasn't smiling and had a "bad boy" face, it was Simon. So, except for the young man, all had happy gestures, specially Henry who looked cheerful. The picture seemed to be from a wedding or a similar event giving the fact that they all were wearing suits. Underneath said portrait, your British man dedicated a few words to his family: "In this here photo only one of the Cavill men was a father. Now.... a few years later, only one isn't! Happy Father's Day to you, my incredible father, and to you my awesome brothers! Legends to a man.Also, for those that don't know, this is how we dress in England all the time.#FathersDay" All the joy you were feeling before vanished instantly. Now anxiety had fully taken over your emotions and air couldn't get inside your body. You ran into the kitchen and grabbed a bag to breathe in. You went into the house's main bathroom to hide from Henry so he wouldn't find out that you were having a panic attack. The rolled down your eyes and you felt as if needles were being sticked to your heart. "In this here photo only one of the Cavill men was a father. Now.... a few years later, only one isn't! " "..., only one isn't! " the words kept repeating inside your mind and you could even hear his voice. When Henry told you that whatever was your decision about having kids, he wanted to remain by your side, it made you extremely happy to know that you'll never lose him, but in the same time, you felt even more anxiety than before. One thing was to know that you could lose him in the future for not wanting the same thing, but there was the upside that he'd someday make his dream come true; another thing was for you to take away the possibility of being a dad because he loved you enough to give up his longtime desire of having kids. What if someday he regretted his desition? Would he blamed you for not doing the right thing and set him free? Will breaking up with him be the right decision? There was always a chance that if you felt that couldn't have kids in the near future, that it could happen in a distant future. You could always adopt or freeze your eggs so you could find a surrogate in your body wasn't in conditions to carry a child.

-Baby, you want to watch a movie?- Henry asked you as he knocked on the bathroom's door. You had been there for almost an hour, burning your poor brain with all those existential questions. You took a deep breath as you wiped your tears. - Yeah, babe. I'll be there in a minute.- you replied making an extra effort for him not to noticed that you'd been crying. - Ok, I'll make popcorn in the meantime.- he said and left. You stood up and faced the mirror. After washing your face, you made sure there were no trails of your tears. After sitting on the couch, you tried hard to focus on choosing a movie. You ended selecting a horror movie called "The Ritual". A big bowl of popcorn rested on your boyfriend's lap as you watched the movie. As much as you tried to pay attention to the movie, you barely understood what was going on since your brain would repeat his words and the questions you made to yourself before. You took deep breaths to avoid having another panic attack and break into tears. As the movie was reaching its climax, your man paused the movie. It took you a moment to notice it and to see that he was starring at you. - Are you ok, princess? - he questioned worried. You faced him, smiling and nodding; of course you couldn't speak because otherwise the lump in your throat would give you away. He inspected your face.- Are you sure? You can tell me if something's wrong, do you know that, right?- he pointed out and you nodded again, hoping he'll quit the interrogation and play the movie.

Unfortunately, he did not give up. He knew something was going on and would not continue playing the movie until he knew what was wrong with you. - You're lying.- he reproached you.- You haven't even touched the popcorn and you love it; you haven't stopped moving your thighs from side to side, quickly and that's something you do when you're extremely anxious; you also play with your nails, that's another nervous tic you have and not to mention that you haven't made one single comment during this entire time, I've been waiting for your clever comments and jokes, but no a single sound came out from your mouth. You have been breathing deeply and shallowing saliva which is something you do when you try not to cry.

Damn it! He knew you way too well. What was the point of pretending anymore? He already caught your bullshit. Your burst into tears and after he left the bowl on the tea table, you rested your head on his lap as he caressed your hair and your face, letting you cry as much as you need it. After a while, when you felt eased, you sat again and looked at him, who was expecting an explanation of what was going on. You took as much air as you could and finally spoke:

- I saw your Instagram post. - you pointed out. - Ok.- he said, unsure of how that could have made you upset. - You said that you were the only one who wasn't a father and I know that you truly want that, and people saying in your comments how someday you're going to be a great dad and me thinking what if I can't give you that? You assured me that you wanted to be with me anyway, but I feel that'd be extremely selfish of me to take that opportunity away from you, even if my desition is not only for my best interest or yours, but also for that baby, if there's ever one, I don't want a child to be born in a world in which his mother only had him to make his dad happy. Besides that, I fear that if I don't give you children, someday you'd regret staying with me and may even hate me for not doing that or for not let you go to find someone that can give you that.- you explained while a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Henry removed them with his thumbs and then grabbed your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. - I might enjoy to play video-games, to read fantasy books among other "childish" things, but be sure I'm a man. I'm mature enough to make my desitions and know the reasons behind them. Am I sure that I want to be with you even if you don't want kids? Absolutely. I already feel happy and complete by your side, and if someday we have kids I'd no longer be on cloud nine, but cloud infinite; especially by knowing that I'd have them with a woman who loved me enough to change her mind and with a person smart enough to know that the kid's feelings and necessities are more important than both ours. Could I be sad if I never become a father? Possibly. Would I regret my desition? No, because I know why I made that decision. Would I blame you for not giving me kids, if that happens? Hell no; I wouldn't be forced to stay, if I stay it'd be because I wanted so, and the only one to blame if I make a bad desition is me and, as I said before, I know why I want to stay with you no matter what, so I'm not even going to blame myself.- he took a short paused and continued- Look, I'd always wanted to play Alexander, the Great, did that happened? No, but I'm ok with that. I desired to play Bond for a long time and that seems like another dream that will not come true, but I'm ok with that too. At least I had the chance to play Sups and Geralt. I know might be a silly comparison, but maybe that way you understand what I'm trying to say. In that scenario, you are Superman and Geralt. You're the amazing thing that happened to me even and my life would be awesome even if I don't get Bond or Alexander.- he chuckled unsure if he was being clear. You smiled, feeling a lot better and then kissed him. His lips tasted so good. The sweetness of the popcorn left trails on them. You sat right next to him, grabbing his arm and putting your head on his shoulder. He kissed your head and was about to play the rest of the movie when you stopped him and questioned if it'd be ok with him if you play the movie from the beginning to really watch it this time. He smirked and agreed, saying that i'd be ok to see it again because there were some parts he didn't pay much attention either. Your jokes and sassy comments about some silly plot points and characters actions were all he needed to know that you felt much better.

Disclaimer: As much as I’d love to write a song, I haven’t done that, so the song reader writes actually exists and belongs to the band Epica (Twin Flames is the name of the song if you want to listen to it - is beautiful ♥)

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #demivampirew

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the-human-sharpie · 4 years ago

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Nobody asked for this, but here’s a list of things that make me happy:

Sparkly bits in the pavement

Finding smooth rocks

Horseshoe crabs

Finding tiny crabs at the beach

I hate the beach :D

When a wave hits a sandcastle and the sandcastle stays standing up

Catching or really just watching frogs at the little pond a few neighborhoods over

Tiny candy canes

When rooms smell like oregano, basil, rosemary, or thyme

The rest of the list is under the cut :)

Eating basil leaves directly from my garden and feeling like I outsmarted the rabbits and groundhogs because apparently all they know is destroying my herb garden and eating all my blueberry bushes like mf just take a tomato i don’t like tomatoes it’s a win win if you go that way just don’t eat my fucking basil leaves istg

Getting to explain the physics/aerodynamics of the twin sonic booms that the Atlantis shuttle makes upon re-entry into earth’s atmosphere to little kids in a way that makes sense to them

Space

The way that people’s eyes light up when they infodump about their hyperfixations and/or special interests

Frogs

When movies take physics and accurate terminology into account

Using a new sketchbook that has really good paper

Ballpoint pens!!

The Royal Opera House’s ballet adaptation of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Sergei Prokofiev’s Cinderella

Watercolors

When a locket makes that good click clack noise when you open and close it

Making other people happy

The way that kiwi birds run and hop around when they’re happy

Finding a snail

Finding a cat

Feeding the stray turkeys that randomly appeared in my yard one day (I hope they’re doing well)

When people do the thing like jingles out in my silly little jester hat like the fool i am

Accidentally sneaking up on friends bc I tend to walk really quickly and seeing their reactions

My pencil not dying 5 minutes into drawing something

The way I used to surprise the athletic kids— yes, I do mean the highlighter outfit ones— at school by surpassing them in physical strength bc apparently I looked like a twig to them

Antique shops (they’re so magical and special, even if it’s an old spool of thread that probably hasn’t been touched in years, everything there has a story behind it)

That one ikea teddy bear

Seeing people speak with so much adoration about their comfort characters

Seeing people gushing about their comfort characters in the tags of a reblog

Good mechanical pencils

Erasers that work

Riddles

Playing random pieces on the piano at 3 in the morning and otherwise enjoying the silence

Green things

In depth analysis of different characters and acknowledging character flaws of the ones who people adore and seeing the good (if possible) in the characters who people loathe

Good dreams that last long enough

Dreams that seem like a literal staged and edited shitpost

Seeing what songs people associate their ccs with and why

Trubbish

Joy Again (it’s a lovely band, really)

#sharpie speaks #thehumansharpie posted for once?#sorry this exists lmao i just felt like thinking of happy things to try and balance out a not so incredible day

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sternenteile · 4 years ago

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✧･ﾟ: * aesthetics : colours edition.

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways.

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets.

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grotto / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theatre productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theatres / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces.

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art.

✧ tagged by: @dansiere !! ♡

✧ tagging: @capjump @musesoiree (muse of choice or one of your single muse accounts !!) @ghostbustingreen @xbows @drcamiipriince @oddcollection (muse of choice or korb!) @nightmaresindreamland @obsiidianblu @nofliight (or any muse of ur choice!) and! you!!

#★ ; ( ooc. )#★ ; ( meme. )

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the-truth-behind-redacted · 6 years ago

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Encounter and Brandishing

Dear Lockey, Entry 4

I have decided (partly because I don't really have answers and also because I'm grappling with an existential crisis) to quit speculating. The only way to gather more information is to live in the present and prepare for the future. For this, I began doing the things I should've done before I began wondering the purple walkway(s?) of eternity. That is getting versed with what I do have. The results were both extraordinary relieving, painfully disappointing, and bewilderingly frustrating at the same time.

The first thing I did was figure how to get the fucking armor off. Before trying this, however, I moved to a point where the paths various directions created a kind of really shitty pyramid. That's a really bad way to explain that. What I mean is that below the main path I'm walking is a set of other paths that, because of their angles on which they expand, a flat-ish expanse of land is created. I have noticed that there are paths now that completely intersect and form crossways but if I waited to get a formation like what I have now with them, I fear I might be too far in but I'll explain reasoning about that later.

Now that I was in a safe place where if I fall it most likely won't be straight into the abyss, I began trying to get it off. First I worked on getting the breastplate off as it restricted my waist movement quite a bit. I did the obvious thing first, searching for some kind of lock or clip on the breastplate that keeps it in place. Sadly, much to my own disappointment, there was no such thing. Seeing as it was completely solid as well, there wasn't going to be a way for me to somehow pull my arm inside and just take it off like a shirt. Actually, this brings me to something I should've pointed out by now.

This armor actually covers joint points or easy/fatal areas like the neck. These points have a much more flexible substance over them, that despite them being still quite clearly crystalline, allows for minorly impeded movement and extra protection. Honestly, this is just like Sci-fi bullshit to me but If it protects me, I guess I can't complain too much about that. That being said, this only makes it even harder to get off once it's on normally. With it covering every inch of me with no openings, or obvious mechanics to put on or off, how do I?

The answer to that is magic...LITERAL FUCKING MAGIC! To be open here, I eluded to the Red Man, as I'm going to be calling him (despite wearing black), using magic to deflect my gun's shots but I didn't exactly believe in it. It being a forgotten art was just me saying in a really prissy way that it was mythology. Something only found in storybooks, but I guess not! I was being facetious about this all being heaven, hell, purgatory but now that I know that magic is real, it might be true. Though as I said, I'm done with the speculation for now, and I don't want to really think about where my soul's going if I do die.

What I had to do was directly "will" it off. It wasn't just enough to want it off, I had to concentrate on its dematerialization. Summed up wonderfully by, I thought about it and it went poof. In a sudden instant, the armor let out a quick shine before disappearing completely. This was the first time I got a clear look at what I was wearing underneath. I don't exactly know what I was expecting to be underneath or if anything was underneath at all, but there is.

The first lair was a basic black hoodie. I took it off and looked at it and it had some kind of white flakes on the back. I assume this jacket had some brand name or logo on it that over time came off. Besides that, there isn't any kind of major identifier. Underneath I had a sports tank top and of course bra. Following the sports theme, I had on sports leggings all of which were black. Under my leggings were a pair of hot pink panties. Also, still a regular human which is oddly comforting to confirm. So if anyone is to find this book alone and find a body later on, you can identify me by clothing if I still have it, just don't look further creep.

Another important thing I needed to figure out is if I had some kind of direct weapon. After one happening this has become an increasingly important thing for me to have. Thankfully, since I now understand the armor, the secrets of this crystalline material was unlocked. Just as with taking on or off the armor, all I had to do was "will" my weapon to me. At first, it was a sword, which I'm not exactly adept with so I tried to change what it was and thankfully (and conveniently) it morphed into something a bit more conventional for me.

The energy that formed the sword separated then formed some kind of diagram around my hands. The diagram formed into a seal to sigil. Finally, it connected around my wrists with a quick glaze around my hand. Three diagrams then scanned over my hands and settled into position on my hands. The first and largest rested over my wrists. The second, smaller than the first, circled around my hands in the middle of my palms. The final and smallest hovered just in front of the tips of my index, middle, and ring finger.

How this weapon worked is unconventional to say the least. Obviously or maybe not, by how it looks, the attacks it's capable of being are very heavily ranged. It doesn't have any limitation on what kind of projectile it can produce. In messing around with it shortly I've managed to produce bow arrows, crossbow bolts, bullets, plasma blasts, and some weirder ones.

Depending on what I'm trying for the three diagrams will change. For a bow and arrow, the diagrams on my hand that holds handle move off and create the structure of a peculiar bow. The smallest acts like a crosshair, the middle one hovers over the string on where I'm meant to pull the bow and the largest like some kind of printer moves back and made the bow. Then I grab where I'm meant to draw the string and an equally weird arrow forms in place by the diagrams on my other hand. From there, it's like a regular bow. I aim, pull, and fire. Interestingly, while the speed on which the arrow fires is dependent on how far I draw back, drawing doesn't take any actual strength. I'll cover everything this weapon can do and how it works in its own extra entry.

Now another topic to move onto is, I've made quite a few mentions of, "if you are to find this book," and that's because I'm honestly not sure how likely it is that I'll make it out alive. The sounds of nightmarish creatures have only increased and I'm beginning to think I'm seeing them out on the horizon on other paths. Of course, just as I suspected, flying seems necessary to get around this place and almost all have had wings. Both interestingly and worrying, the only one I have seen directly is a creature on one of the other paths.

This happened on my way to find a safety net of paths to mess around with the armor. A path that nearly intersected into the path I'm walking upon further extension, to where mine and the other path were a distance apart, I saw a rather unpleasant creature. Just like everything else related to this place, the thing was purple but it was a much deeper and darker purple.

While the paths were a bright lavender and crystals a basic purple, the creature that I will call spider totem, Sp-tem for short, was a darker violet. While I call it a "spider" it actually had twelve legs. Ten really thick short legs were at its bottom and two very long legs extended from its shoulders. Each leg had some kind of stinger at their tips. I saw Sp-tem lift itself on the shoulder legs which showed the bulk of its body.

Once on the long legs, the body split revealing an eye. Unlike the monster in the Red Man's room which had a bastardized human eye, the Sp-tem's eye was very different. The sides of the eyes narrowed to a point. Moving inward the outline expanded outward a little bit before leveling out. Inside, near the corners of its eye, two dashes barely avoided collision with what seemed to be brackets. The brackets were the in-between points positioned about what the lines on a unit representing one third would be. The insides of the eyes had yet smaller brackets with the pupil at the very center of the eye.

The once legs positioned themselves into a hand. The fingers had the stinger points as fingernails, and all of which were the very same length. From the top and bottom of the core of which the eye centers tubings came forth. Flagella barely hung out the opening at the front of the tubes. As for the core, exoskeleton lining detailed the body. Lines of the exoskeleton bulged out creating a diamond form with the tubes being the top and bottom points. Rock grinder looking tentacles lined its sides and spun from time to time. Next to the points of its eye, two noticeable pores pulsated with some thick viscous solution oozing out.

The encountered ended favorably as it merely stared me down as I moved past. Once I was a distance away it moved back to its original form and quickly scuttled away. It was weird, to say the least, but at least it wasn't horrible like the Red Man's things. I wonder how the encounter would've gone if I was on the same path as it. At this point, I hadn't learned how my equipment worked and didn't have a weapon. With the tentacles, it had a range advantage and its weapons were quite brutal, to say the least.

The Sp-tem didn't have any way to vocalize as far as I could tell so I doubt that it was what was making all the noise. This did confirm a few things that I was thinking since I got in here. First, nothing in this place will be something I can traditionally identify. Second, I'm far from the only thing in this place. Third and finally, real danger is afoot. As I get further and further in, I won't be able to write entries as frequently or long especially if the flying ones catch onto my existence. The likelihood of finding highly intelligent life is also high, judging from the complexity of the organism I just witnessed.

Oh, maybe I should explain what exactly spiders are because some might not be familiar with mythology. Spiders are a type of creature that existed back with the Precursor Humans. Back before the Extinction hit, be it a war, sickness, or parasite, humans lived on a planet called Earth. Very similar to Gee-Gerotous, Earth was a naturally inhabitable planet with its own kind of creatures. Out of all these creatures, Spiders were some of the most troublesome.

Before the advent of their advanced technology, Humans held a natural kind of fear of spiders. A common structure of spiders was that they had eight hairy legs and eight eyes. Some had six eyes but that wasn't the norm. They had an exoskeleton for their body. Most were generally small and lived in the corner or dark places were they would create a natural trap called a "web." However, many had natural poisons strong enough to kill humans or horrendously harm them.

An interesting group of spiders to note were a kind called "tarantulas" known for being large. From what information we have left from those times some of these things got larger than humans. There were a documented few that got larger than the average household and required military action to kill due to their danger. Needless to say, these creatures weren't something you would want to encounter big or small. If that Sp-tem was somehow based on old-time spiders, I'm glad I only encountered one that was human-sized and not that of a house. Then again, I'm not sure how something that big would get around on these tiny paths. What if further in there a larger paths that allow something like that to move around? Suddenly, I hate this place even more. … Dear Locket, Entry 4 Addendum

If there is such a thing as a household-sized Sp-tem in this place I had best be familiar with my weapon and document my findings. I didn't quite complete the explanation of what my weapon quite looks like. While dormant the weapon looks nothing more than like my hands were polished. Activation is noticed by the appearance of the diagrams in their respective positions. The diagrams moved in response to how my hands are positioned allowing for many more options of attack than that of traditional weaponry I know such as bows, guns, blasters, or crossbows.

As an example of how the diagrams respond, if I hold my open palm forward, instead of encircling my hands the diagrams equal with themselves in the same vertical line creating a seal. From there, how I direct my hand leads to different magical attacks. If I quickly sling my arm back then quickly launch it forward again three saws will launch forward on different paths which dissipate after about fifty meters. If I do the same motion but add an upward launch right after opening my palm, this will make one large saw instead of three medium ones.

While I haven't tried any elaborate movements, once again abyss, but I plan to try nonconventional movements if I ever get to a safer position. However, conventional weapons don't quite have the same question of threat so I tried to get similar results as the bow and I was pleased greatly when I did. Starting off, there's a crossbow. In order to summon the crossbow, I must straighten up my arms and sperate my middle and ring finger from each other.

The smallest diagram at my tips is once again a crosshair. The medium diagram expands and creates the limbs, the two extensions at the front of a crossbow, with the string pulled back. The large diagram creates a structure around my arms the functions as the bulk of the crossbow. This being the flight groove, trigger, latch, arrow retention spring, barrel, and a few marks of the custom build by the magical nature of my weapon. A pair of goggles is also formed over my head that helps me judge where my bolts will hit due to the unorthodox nature of the crossbow.

Firing is weird and childish. I need cock-back my arm and push forward again. This method, however, makes this weapon very inaccurate because where I push my arms back forward is very rarely where I was originally aiming. While both cool and interesting, unless I'm fighting something that is an easy target I won't be hitting. Its range is very good though, easily going about one hundreds meters. For now, the simple bow and arrow are much more useful.

Next is guns. Guns are guns, and guns are cool. These guns are cooler. The first gun I tried was a simple handgun. By moving my hands into finger guns the large diagram quickly scans up my arms. This time the middle diagram created the main body with a thick metallic purple forming a trigger, handle, and barrel. The third diagram serves as the opening. Pulling the trigger lets out a fast burning purple pellet that combusts after a hard to judge distance.

That gun, however, isn't the only one I can make. If I hold my hands together and form and gun like that I get a drastically different result. The diagrams on both my hands merge together giving them much more energy to work with. First a barrel formes with some kind of compact front. From the bulk at the end of the barrel loose streams of energy leaks from them. The handle is made with the merged center diagrams. As a simple body is made, an elaborate scope is made starting with feathered wings attached at the back of the barrel.

A swirling diagram quickly spins with runic lettering inside. The wings expand revealing the sight then the bulk at the end of the barrel opens. The bulk is revealed to be what seems to be two small energy concentrator and four mini mini-guns. A simple pull of the trigger will let go a burst fire shooting three regular sized bullets, two small blasts of explosive energy, and a stream of many small pellets. The cock-back, however, is very rough with this thing and unbalanced me. Seeing what just one pull did though gives me hope about this thing but's that not all.

There is another variation of gun I've managed to summon with this thing that is some kind of automatic looking thing. Unlike the rest, this had a defined weight to it, at about fifty pounds. This was kinda surprising to me at first because nothing else so far, besides I guess the recoil from the previous guns, weighted anything. This did make kind of warry of the power this gun with release.

and those seem to be an automatic rifle (I'm not sure of build), and some kind of heavy anti-artillery launcher. Both of these weapons had noticeable weight. So far, these are the only things that have caused any form of strain against me. This wasn't light strain either. The automatic weapon weighted at least a good fifty pounds and the HAAL was around seventy or eighty. While it wasn't anything I couldn't lift, they weren't exactly something I can move with.

Now on to how the auto worked. I positioned my hands as if I was holding a rifle with my right hand out hold the foregrip with my left hand for the grip. The stock was one of the first things to form with my left-hand wrist diagram quickly creating. With light adjusting, I pocketed it into my shoulder. Its body was created with both palm digarmas meeting together. On its sides, crystalline metal strips that covered an energy core with streams of energy spinning around it seemed to be breathing. The three strips would lightly move closer to the body, coming together like a single strip only to move outward and extend out like wings.

Two great crystals were locked at the top and bottom of the body running the length of the gun. The barrel of the gun was an assort of interlocked metallic pieces that, as soon as the gun began charging would transform. Three great plates in triangular coordination get to pull up, back, then lock. Then, where the new spaces are left by the out pulling parts, the in-between parts separate and form an energy loop spinning violently. The breathing wings and now forever out as mist pours from the core.

The two crystal at the top and bottom are then pulled in and judging from the horrendous sound shattered and ground. Two extensions similar to what was on the two hand handgun formation unlocked. I took in a deep breath, balanced myself, and fired. The two extensions at the very end of the barrel began spinning violently. Great blasts of plasma quickly expanding as the ground crystals were fired by extensions. I tried taking my finger from the trigger to give the gun a rest but the strength it was pushing at my body my jerking kept hitting the trigger making it go off for a few more shots.

To stop I had to relinquish the form. As the gun dissipated and the diagrams went around my hands a hellish pulse of energy surged through my body. It felt like I was being burnt alive. Molten iron pulsing through my veins. The pain made me collapse on to the path. Slowly my body cooled off but it may be a few minutes for it to end. I was trembling uncontrollably after that and I never wanted to experience that again. It was far worse than what the Red Man did to me before I blacked out. I can only guess the heat of the gun was transferred into my body showing the first cost of using these weapons.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: New born Essence #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?#Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #The casting wires #Echo Echo #Am I who I think I am #Understanding Chaos #Birthing Chaos #Life Passage

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