#alka tone

[bhaalswn-arch]

It's like 2am but like-- kinks?????????? worshipping/worship kink and honestly? Dominance kink

[unabashegirl]

Meeting her || Part III

Author's note: hello everyone! As promised here is the final part of Meeting Her! I really hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know if you want me to continue with more prompts like "them getting married, moving in together, having kids, etc"

Golden boy

Meeting Her (1)

Meeting Her (2)

word count: 4.0K

The freezing air rushed into Y/N's apartment as she opened the front door, and she instinctively pulled the sides of her bathrobe closer to protect herself from the cold. Still groggy from sleep, she squinted to get a good look at Harry standing at her doorstep.

His rain-drenched figure, with curls flattened against his forehead and a shirt clinging to his torso, puzzled her. "Are you going to let me in?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts. She widened the door, and he stumbled in, clearly affected by alcohol. Y/N hoped he hadn't driven in such a state for everyone's safety.

As the cold air swept into her apartment, she felt a shiver down her spine, not only from the weather but also from the unexpected presence of Harry. She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around herself, creating a shield against the unwelcome chill.

"Why are you here?" she inquired, moving towards her bedroom to fetch pain relievers for the inevitable hangover. Y/N handed them to him along with an Alka-Seltzer.

“You know you are actually meaner than I thought," he slurred as he downed the fizzy water. Y/N observed him, amused by his intoxicated state. She couldn't help but notice the disarray of emotions playing across his face—frustration, confusion, and a tinge of vulnerability.

"How dare you come to my match with another man?" Harry accused, banging the glass on the coffee table. The abrupt sound echoed in the room, mirroring the abrupt intrusion of chaos into Y/N's quiet night. She could sense the storm of emotions brewing within him.

“We aren’t doing this with you drunk,” she retorted, “You can sleep on the couch.” Y/N's tone carried a mix of exhaustion and irritation. She was tired, not just physically, but emotionally worn out from the tangled mess that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“On the couch?!” Harry exclaimed, “I have seen you naked, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it.” His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken desires and the complexity of their relationship.

"Harry!" she cut him off, “This is not okay. You can’t just barge in here, accuse me of taking a man to your match, and then ask to share the bed with me.” The room felt charged with tension, a palpable awkwardness that only intensified with every word spoken.

“You did take a man to my match!” he insisted, “It’s mean. It’s rude. I would never do that to you!” The bitterness in his voice clashed with the vulnerability in his eyes, creating a stark contrast that left Y/N torn.

“It was my brother! Emma invited my brother and my father to your game!” Y/N clarified, frustration seeping into her words. The revelation brought a mix of realization and embarrassment to Harry's features.

“This is insane,” she muttered under her breath, running her fingers through her hair. The chaos outside seemed to reflect the chaos within her own mind. She felt a surge of irritation and helplessness, trapped in a situation she hadn't anticipated.

"Why were you ever angry? You have no right. You have a girlfriend and are in a serious relationship," Y/N argued, her tone cutting through the room's tense atmosphere.

“I don’t want you to be my mistress. I don’t want to be with another woman. I want you to be mine,” Harry confessed, fueled by the courage alcohol provided. Y/N's eyes widened at the raw honesty in his words, but beneath that honesty, she could sense a layer of confusion and conflict.

Y/N was at a loss for words, torn between emotions. The room felt like a battleground of conflicting feelings—desire, guilt, frustration, and a hint of longing. She didn't know what to tell him. She also didn't want to keep arguing and keep going back and forth. Y/N just wanted to move on either forward with him or alone. The guilt was killing her, and until he didn’t resolve his issues with Emma, she wasn’t going to keep her distance.

“I’m tired, and you're drunk. Let's sleep. Tomorrow we can talk about the rest,” Y/N suggested, signaling the end of the argument. Harry silently agreed with a nod as she prepared the couch for him.

“I’ll leave this extra blanket out here for you in case you get cold,” Y/N added, “it sometimes can get very cold. Goodnight.” The room felt heavy with unresolved tension, emotions lingering in the air even as Y/N retreated to her bedroom, leaving Harry alone with his conflicted thoughts.

The room was cloaked in darkness, and Y/N lay in her bed, staring into the emptiness of the night. The silence enveloped her, broken only by the occasional sounds of the city outside. Despite the late hour, sleep remained elusive, slipping through her grasp like grains of sand.

Her mind was a tempest of conflicting thoughts, each wave crashing against the shore of her consciousness. The recent encounter with Harry echoed in her thoughts, creating ripples of confusion and longing. His presence, so close yet unattainable, cast a shadow over her solitude.

She turned restlessly in her bed, the sheets whispering in protest. The subtle creaks of the mattress mirrored the restlessness within her soul. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage trapping her with her own thoughts.

She couldn't shake the image of Harry standing at her doorstep, drenched in rain, his vulnerability exposed. The scent of alcohol lingered in her memory, and the echo of his words reverberated through the silent space. "I want you to be mine," he had confessed, and the weight of those words hung in the air.

A sigh escaped her lips as she contemplated the complexity of their connection. In the quiet of the night, she couldn't escape the truth: the magnetic pull drawing her toward Harry was undeniable. The intoxicating blend of desire and guilt was an intricate dance, a labyrinth of emotions that seemed impossible to navigate.

Closing her eyes, she tried to banish the thoughts that tormented her. Yet, as darkness surrounded her, memories flooded back with vivid intensity. The touch of his hand, the warmth of his breath, the raw honesty in his gaze—they lingered like ghostly imprints on her skin.

The proximity of the couch where Harry now slept only heightened the internal conflict. He was near, separated by mere walls, and yet a vast chasm seemed to stretch between them. The unspoken words hung in the air, leaving an uncharted territory of emotions that begged exploration.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sat up in bed, the city's distant hum a lullaby that failed to soothe her restless soul. The desire for clarity battled with the fear of unraveling the delicate balance they had maintained. Y/N couldn't ignore the truth any longer—the emotions she harbored for Harry were a force beyond her control.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she padded softly across the room. The cool floor beneath her feet served as a grounding force, a reminder that the world continued to spin beyond the confines of her thoughts.

The door to the living room stood slightly ajar, and a sliver of dim light spilled into the darkness. Y/N hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, revealing the silhouette of Harry on the couch. He slept peacefully, unaware of the turmoil his presence had stirred.

As she watched him, an ache settled in her chest—a longing for something undefined, a yearning for the answers that remained elusive. She wondered if he, too, wrestled with the complexities of their connection in the realm of dreams.

"Can't sleep either?" Harry's voice cut through the quiet darkness, his eyes still closed.

"No," Y/N admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room. The familiar surroundings of her apartment felt foreign, and an unspoken tension lingered in the air. Y/N felt like a visitor in her own space. A thick silence enveloped them as she contemplated the best way to invite him into her bedroom without sounding desperate. "Can you please sleep in the room with me? I can't sleep thinking you're out here and probably uncomfortable."

In the dimly lit room, she could barely discern his silhouette. Watching him rise to his feet, he reached for the pillow she had given him from her own bed. Y/N silently led him to her bedroom, a space he had never seen before.

The room emanated a tasteful vibrancy, adorned with colorful paintings and a large round paper lamp suspended in the center. Her bed boasted an array of pillows, matching a knitted throw blanket at its foot.

As Harry settled into the bed, his body relaxed. The room's cleanliness and orderliness prompted a desire for a refreshing shower. The bright white comforter was incredibly fluffy, the cold sheets providing a pleasant contrast against his skin. The pillows carried the comforting scents of lavender and vanilla, reminiscent of Y/N herself.

Y/N turned off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"I've never been in your bedroom," Harry whispered into the obscurity.

"Neither have I," she replied, settling into a comfortable position. A sense of ease washed over her, and sleep followed shortly after.

The morning dawned, and Harry ventured out to grab some breakfast for them. Surprisingly, he felt no hangover—just a slight ache in his body, understandable given the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

Pulling up the hood of his jacket to conceal his famous hair, he strolled down the street with a clear destination in mind. A craving for eggs, hot sauce, black coffee, and a desire to surprise Y/N motivated him. With her still in slumber, he aimed to make their morning delightful, eager to start the day on a positive note. Apologizing for his previous night's state was his first priority, and what better way than to begin with a hearty breakfast for her.

His purchases included breakfast sandwiches, hot chocolate, a latte, an americano, and a cinnamon roll for Y/N. Though he may have bought more than necessary, hunger and the appealing array of food influenced his choices.

On his way back to her apartment, he couldn't escape the harsh gaze of newspaper covers featuring him. As anticipated, the media had capitalized on their loss, blaming him for the game's outcome. The penalty shot had been particularly abysmal, out of character for him, and he braced himself for the media's ruthless criticism. Lowering his head, he quickened his pace toward the apartment.

Arriving at the entrance, he noticed he was now plastered across newspaper headlines. The doorman greeted him with a smile, clearly relishing the newfound excitement his job had acquired since last night. The fact that the Manchester star had spent the night added an unexpected twist to his duties.

She was still asleep when he returned, so he ventured out into the living room. Taking a moment to appreciate up close all the pictures, the art, the books, and everything else she owned.

“Harry?” He finally heard her call out from the bedroom, her voice tinged with surprise.

“I am right here,” Harry responded as he walked into the bedroom carrying the bags containing the food, hoping it was still warm and delicious. “I bought us some breakfast.”

Her face and eyes were puffy, hair slipping out of the ponytail she had gone to bed with. She was still sleepy, and Harry found it adorable.

“How long have you been up?” She yawned as he climbed into bed with her. Y/N was surprised she hadn’t heard him get up or leave; she was a light sleeper. Harry proceeded to take out the food and prepare everything.

“About an hour or so,” Harry explained. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I made sure to get you some different things.” Y/N nodded and kindly smiled at him.

“Thank you,” Y/N was the first to take a big bite out of the breakfast sandwich. “This is so good!” she exclaimed after swallowing. “You need to tell me where you got this.”

“I’ll show you someday,” he chuckled as he continued taking ferocious bites. “When is your next show? Soon?”

“Yeah, in two weeks. I am a bit nervous about this one. It’s special.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. You have a talent that not everyone has.”

“What are you talking about? You are insanely good at football. Not everyone can play like that,” Harry chuckled and shook his head at her as he sipped some coffee to pass the food.

“Most people would disagree with you today.”

“You mean because of the penalty shot?” she asked. “Everyone has bad days, H,” Y/N shrugged. “Everyone could have missed it, and the majority of the people currently judging you can barely get up from the couch or dribble a ball.”

“I guess you are right. It will pass,” Harry said as he finished his coffee.

“Unless football isn’t what you truly want, then you shouldn’t quit or put yourself down just because of what someone else says or does,” Harry nodded, wiping his mouth and cleaning his hands.

“Are you going to invite me to the art show?” Harry bluntly asked, “I promise to behave and not get drunk. I am sorry about that.”

“Mmm,” Y/N had only one condition, “I’ll invite you, but no one else.” She didn’t have to say a name for Harry to understand that she was talking about Emma and how she had made a big scene at her last show.

“Don’t worry. I am breaking things up with her today,” Harry said, making Y/N almost choke on her food. “I meant what I said last night, Y/N. I want to be with you and only you. That is unless you no longer want me.” Y/N gulped heavily as she tried to find the right words to express how much she wanted to be exclusive with him and be his.

“I— I do, but you have to make things right with her,” Harry nodded and reached for his phone in his back pocket. The coach was trying to reach him. He had training in a few hours and planned on telling Emma in the evening that he was done.

“I’ve got to go,” Harry said as he read over the urgent text he had received. They obviously had to do damage control after everything that had happened in the last game, and they needed Harry in attendance. “I’ll see you?” he asked as he leaned over and gave her a gentle hug. Harry didn’t leave without attempting to give her a kiss, but she refused, telling him only after he broke up with Emma.

It had been a few hours since Harry left, and Y/N found herself in her home studio, hunched over as she meticulously painted three canvases, adding the final touches. The music blared loudly, creating an atmosphere where the gloominess seemed to vanish, and she no longer felt trapped in sadness. Just as the song faded into the next one, the doorbell rang vigorously.

"I'm coming!" Y/N yelled as she set down her paintbrush and rushed to the door. Upon opening it, her regret was instantaneous—it was Emma. Without wasting a moment, Emma barged into the apartment.

"I know he's here," Emma declared as she walked into the living room.

"Who are you talking about?" Y/N asked, closing the door behind her, feeling an instant surge of nervousness. She hoped Harry hadn't left any evidence of his overnight stay.

"Harry! Who else!?" Emma yelled, storming into Y/N's bedroom. "I know he's here, Y/N. I'm not an idiot! People saw him around here this morning!"

"You're insane. Why would he be here?" Y/N questioned, trailing behind Emma, who was now opening every door in the apartment. Finally, they entered Y/N's studio. "And I don't appreciate you barging in here as if it's yours."

"I don't know! You tell me, Y/N!" Emma shouted, turning to face her for the first time, arms crossed. A friend had texted her about spotting Harry during a jog, and after analyzing the location, Emma realized it was Y/N's apartment.

"Lower your voice, Emma. This is my house. My home. I don't go to your house and yell at you there," Y/N retorted, clearly unwilling to tolerate Emma's attitude. She was nervous and just wanted Emma out.

"Why was he here?! I know he was here! My friend would never lie," Emma insisted.

"This is crazy!" Y/N replied. "Harry isn't here. Call him!"

"Don't you think I've done that already! He's not picking up!" Emma snapped, scanning the room for any evidence of Harry's presence. She didn't want to believe it, but things were starting to make sense. Emma finally understood why he always stood up for Y/N and shut her down whenever she mentioned her.

"I don't know what you want me to do or say! Leave! I have stuff to do!" Y/N pointed to the door, her eyes drifting to the covered sculpture, the main piece for her art show, which could easily give her away.

"What's under there?" Emma asked, eyeing the tall, protruding sculpture.

"A sculpture? For my art show?" Y/N replied as if it were obvious, giving Emma a look as though she had grown two heads. "Enough, Emma! Go!" She nodded, turning to leave, but before Y/N could stop her, Emma pulled off the sheet, revealing Y/N's masterpiece: Harry, wearing only a sheet.

“I knew it! You are a whore! How could you!”  She exclaimed as she laid eyes on the sculpture of her boyfriend. It was undoubtedly him. Y/N had meticulously crafted him from his toes up to the neck, deliberately omitting the head to avoid making it glaringly obvious. She also chose not to incorporate his tattoos, purely for the sake of aesthetics.

"Since when?!" Emma erupted, "you've always been jealous that I lead a fabulous life while yours is miserable!"

"Leave," Y/N asserted.

“You are a shitty friend and a fucking whore! I am going to ruin you, Y/N. Say goodbye to your career” was the last thing she said before she left. Y/N was left scared for the future as an artist. 

Harry had just finished training when he spotted her in the distance, struggling to walk on her heels as she trudged across the field.

"Is that your bird?" One of Harry's teammates inquired, catching sight of her. The men on the field halted their activities, diverting their attention toward her.

"Yeah. Just give me a second," Harry replied, jogging over to her. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been with Y/N," Emma blurted out instantly. "How could you? I've been nothing but a perfect girlfriend to you. I've done everything for you!"

"Perfect? Are we in the same relationship? We constantly fight. You're always nagging and making me do things I don't want, and if I don't, you just throw a fit," he calmly explained. "It's not healthy, and I'm tired of pretending that we're this perfect couple just so you can get your five minutes of fame."

"Five minutes of fame?! I always go to your games and stand beside you during your matches." Emma tried her best to start crying. She wanted to make him feel bad. She wanted him to beg for her forgiveness. However, Harry just wanted to leave her. He was defending his actions.

"You're just not a nice person, Emma. I don't want to be with you anymore. Clearly, we're incompatible. I'm sorry for cheating on you; I definitely shouldn't have done that to you, and I wish things weren't ending this way," he said, not wanting to waste any more time in a futile argument. Harry simply wanted to move on and remove her from his life. "I wish you the best."

The burden of secrets and the weight of a toxic relationship were lifted from Harry's shoulders as he finally came clean and ended things with Emma. He felt a newfound sense of freedom, but it wasn't long before the aftermath unfolded.

Emma, seeking revenge, exposed Harry's actions to the media, accusing him of cheating. However, Y/N's name was spared, thanks to legal advice. Harry was relieved that Y/N remained unaffected by the public storm.

Despite the personal turmoil, Harry faced professional consequences. His manager, publicist, and coach advised him to maintain distance from Y/N for a few weeks until the media frenzy subsided. The tabloids scrutinized his every move, dissecting his life beyond football.

The club, wanting to distance themselves from the scandal, enforced strict rules on Harry's public interactions. Although he disliked the restrictions, Harry complied to protect his contract. A month passed before the media found new topics, allowing Harry some breathing room.

As Y/N's art show approached, Harry, aware of the potential media circus, decided to wait until the event concluded before making his presence known. He couldn't risk overshadowing Y/N's success or jeopardizing her career.

Once the gallery cleared out, Harry entered discreetly. He observed Y/N from a distance, captivated by her beauty in a red cocktail dress, a vibrant contrast to the monochrome surroundings. Y/N was engrossed in a sculpture, and Harry couldn't believe his eyes—it was a detailed portrayal of him.

"He looks familiar," Harry remarked, his voice breaking the silence from behind her. Y/N turned, recognizing the unmistakable depth of his accent. "Who is he?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as he observed the sculpture, realizing it was a detailed and tasteful rendition of himself.

"That's the man I fell in love with, who tragically disappeared," Y/N explained with a hint of playfulness as Harry took a few steps closer, pressing his chest against her back. "Thinking of removing him from my collection. He didn't make a big splash," she joked, though the sculpture had already found a buyer.

"I doubt that," Y/N giggled, "I didn't know you were using me for your art. If I had, I would have hit the gym more vigorously."

"I wanted to capture you through my eyes and everyone else's. This is how you look from other people's perspectives," Y/N elucidated, "Perfect, actually."

Harry planted a soft kiss on the side of her neck, sending shivers through her body. She turned to face him, meeting the eyes of the man who had occupied her dreams and thoughts.

"I've missed you terribly," he confessed, a profound sense of love, understanding, and connection evident in his words. She had become an integral part of his life, consuming his thoughts and desires. Harry longed to be with her constantly, to be everything for her, just as she had become everything to him.

"It's good to see you," she smiled, a mixture of emotions in her eyes. Y/N had many questions, but on this special night, she didn't want to taint the atmosphere. "I thought you had forgotten about me."

"Never," Harry assured her, cupping her face and sealing their reunion with a kiss. The shared moment spoke volumes, an unspoken promise to navigate the complexities of their relationship together.

LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED IT!

[alteregozowie]

A watery voice comes by Alastor, but it simply swirls in the image of a full moon and mocking tone. "Howl all you want, you will never transform."

"Har-dee-har, very funny Pirates of the Dark Water. It's just taking awhile, maybe. Alkas is picking up pot pies for me, so maybe it'll help."

[satashiiwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So I got today to write 6k and finish this chapter if I wanna stay on track…. And I got stuff scheduled all day.

This is not looking promising… maybe by the end of the week?

Tagging @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @megasaurus-regina @monsterrae1 @westernlarch @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @muffinsandsweets @rosieposiepuddingnpie with no pressure as always. This is just for fun and to keep me on track.

Banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 10: FUBAR, Danny’s POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic deacon/hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Tags/warnings: kidnapped eddie, first draft, NavySeal!buck, alternative universe, timeline what timeline?, set vaguely season 3 911 and I’m not giving a time frame for H50 (because it wouldn’t make sense anyway). Written while sleep deprived.

Danny rubs his temples, fighting off a looming headache. He’s been staring at his own terrible cramped handwriting for hours. Steve’s fingers replace his, and he lets his eyes close with a groan as Steve rubs his neck and temples. 

“You got another headache?” Steve’s voice is gentle and soft. He’s practically sitting on Danny’s desk as he hovers, but Danny doesn’t care. They’re alone in the office, and if Steve wants to touch him, Danny’s going to let him. 

“Yeah.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen or Tylenol?”

“Took some with the Alka-Seltzer earlier.” Danny will pay for Steve to keep up the neck massage he’s giving. Steve’s fingers are digging into the knot that had been forming between Danny’s shoulders, and when it releases, he bites his tongue to stop from moaning. 

“You didn’t eat.” There’s disapproval and worry in Steve’s tone. 

“Wasn’t hungry.”  

He wasn’t.  

“This has been sitting out too long now. Do you want me to order something?”

“Let me rephrase. I am not hungry right now, nor was I.”

Steve chuckles, and his fingers find another knot, working into Danny’s left shoulder that he’d slept on last night on the sofa for a few hours. He’s ignoring Danny’s grumbling like usual. 

“These headaches of yours worry me.”  

Danny opens his eyes at this. Steve is close—closer than he’d thought. He’s wrapped himself around Danny, and they’re not touching other than where Steve’s hands are still rubbing his shoulders, but he can feel his body heat because Steve is that close. 

Steve’s observing Danny, waiting for him to say something about the concern he’d voiced, and Danny is floundering with what to say. He stupidly lands on, “They’re just headaches.”

“You’ve been getting a lot of them.”

“I get them when I’m stressed.”

“You get them less when you sleep over.”

“That’s because I sleep better at your place,” slips out before he can take the words back. 

“Why?”

It’s an innocuous question. Why? Why, indeed.  

He has his theories. Danny had slept better when he was still married and sharing a bed with Rachel, and he could roll over and cuddle with her, listening to her breathe. He slept worse when alone because he hated being alone. It’d never been a problem until he and Rachel had started having problems, and she’d kicked him to the couch most nights, denying him coldly. 

Danny was like a dog that needed a companion or otherwise would tear things apart out of anxiety—he needed another heartbeat to listen to in the night. Sleeping at Steve’s and knowing he was just upstairs or hearing his footsteps when he got up at night to do his patrols around the house that Steve swore he didn’t do but Danny had watched him do every night he’d slept over unless Steve was drugged or concussed… there was a rhythm to those nights. They usually watched a movie after dinner or a game and sat too close on the couch because Danny was too tactile, and Steve seemed to crave touch as much as Danny needed to give it.

Confessing this to Steve, however, was probably not in Danny’s best interest. Knowing Steve, he’d have Danny moved in by the end of the week, and Danny needed just a little bit of space for when Steve would inevitably find either another woman or Cath would finally wander back his way. 

Danny didn’t need a front-row seat to Steve choosing a leggy brunette or blonde over him. He was already going to be too close, and it would hurt when it finally happened. If Steve is talking to Cath, then… she will probably come back at some point. Danny hadn’t known they’d still been talking after she left him in Afghanistan a year ago to go chasing after missing villagers and hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. 

[twiafom]

Hello Wia, could you tell Alka that this morning I've finished rereading ONWS just so I could then read The Golden Light? And that not only it was a beautiful journey but their spin off is also very very lovely. It's like Alka put a bow on ONWS, making it even more than perfect if possible. So yes thank you.

And also, Wia, your art is always fantastic even if sometimes cursed. Thank you!!!

i absolutely can @alkalinefrog HEY LOOK YOU'RE GETTING EXTREMELY DESERVED PRAISE. i very much agree and i'm going to make it my mission to find something they aren't amazing at. maybe tap dancing first

AW thank you and i promise i will either tone back the cursedness in the future or make it much worse. it's up in the air right now

[amaurotine-daydreaming]

XIX. Weal

“A young lady who burst in here not a quarter bell ago? Aye, I’ve seen her.” Momodi Modi crossed her arms. “Tried to hide her tears when gettin’ her key, she did. You wouldn’t have had something to do with that, would you?”

“C-certainly not!” Alka Zolka stammered. “We had agreed to meet on the steps for Little Ladies’ Day, and I am to be her seneschal. I had only just caught sight of her on the Avenue when she ran off!”

Momodi eyed Alka up and down, then squarely met his wide, earnest eyes. “You seem an all right sort,” she said. “Honest enough. I’ve been in this business long enough to have a pretty keen sense for these things, if you’ll excuse me sayin’.

“But just so I ain’t callin’ on some other distressed young lady today, I’m goin’ to need her name.”

“Setoto,” Alka said, relieved. “Her name is Setoto, and oh, thank you, miss. Tell her it’s Alka Zolka asking after her.”

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet,” Momodi cautioned. “If she decides she ain’t of a mind to see you, I won’t be pushin’ the subject–and neither should you.”

Alka nodded so vigorously he had to push his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes of course. Thank you, ma’am.”

“I said don’t thank me yet,” Momodi said wryly. She waved a hand toward the center of the Quicksand. “Take a seat, then. I’ll have one of mine call on her.”

As the Adventurer’s Guild’s branch in Ul’dah, Alka Zolka did not expect the place was ever what could be considered quiet, but with the Little Ladies’ celebrations in full swing, most of the seating was already taken by adventurers. He gratefully took a small table off to one side when a server pointed it out to him, assuring him that no one had come to claim the seat yet.

The sandy and earthy tones of the Quicksand’s decor were awash in the bright pink of potted cherry blossoms and paper blooms, and the reds of decorative parasols and runners laid across each table. Alka twisted his hands in his lap anxiously. The noise–and trading his armor and axe for the loose, breezy fashions of Ul’dah–did not help calm his nerves any. Just to take his mind off things, he started counting the petals on the floor that had drifted in from the main avenue, and tried not to glance in the direction of the bar too much.

It was during one of these glances that he at last caught sight of Momodi gesturing him over. He hurriedly stood. 

“She ain’t ready to come downstairs,” Momodi told him when he reached the bar.

Alka’s expression fell. Momodi wagged a finger at him. “Now, don’t go mopin’ about just yet. She said you can go up and speak with her. Room twenty-two, on your left.

“And while I don’t know what happened, you set things right, you hear? I don’t want to see any young ladies’ cryin’ their eyes out on a day meant to be all about their happiness.”

Alka, one foot already on the stairwell, looked over his shoulder. “Bringing her happiness is precisely my intention,” he said, resolute.

Momodi nodded approvingly.

Setoto’s room was near the end of the hall, and Alka wondered if she had intentionally asked for such a secluded lodging–at least as much seclusion could be found in such a well-frequented establishment. He knocked softly under the “22” that had been engraved into the wood of the door.

“Setoto?” 

There was a pause, and then Alka heard a shuffling and a quiet sniffling from behind the door. His heart sank.

“Setoto, what’s wrong?”

“I…I….” 

Another fitful lapse into silence, punctuated by another sniffle.

Alka swallowed. “If…if it isn’t your wish to have me accompany you as your seneschal, my lady, just say the word. Your comfort and happiness is paramount to me, on this day and any other.”

To his dismay, that only prompted a loud sob. “Oh Alk- k- ka, it’s just like you to assume you’re the one at fault. I-it’s not you. It’s me!”

“How can it be you?” he asked, bewildered. He wished he could open the door and sweep her into a hug. “I don’t understand.”

“I-I don’t want you to see.”

Alka leaned his face against the wood and closed his eyes, ignoring the way it dug his spectacles into the bridge of his nose. “Setoto…you know that I have ever found you beautiful beyond compare. Even if you were to suddenly turn into a tonberry again on the morrow, it would change naught of how I see you.”

He waited. Suddenly the door was yanked open and he stumbled forward, nearly falling on his face.

“I’m sorry, Alka,” Setoto hiccuped, letting go of the door handle to steady him. “I didn’t know you were that c-close to the door.”

Her cheeks were flush and damp with tears. Before Alka could reassure her that the apology was unneeded, Setoto abruptly pulled up the sleeve of her riviera dress and thrust out her arm toward him, her face screwed up in distress. The exposed skin was riddled with painful looking weals, each swollen and red.

“I d-don’t know what’s happening,” she cried. “They just started appearing, a-and I’m not sure if I’m doing something wrong with my codex or my incantations or if it just isn’t responding to healing magick.”

She yanked her sleeve back down before he could take a closer look. “What if it’s the plague coming back?” Her gold-colored eyes were brimming with panic and more unshed tears. “I think it started this way, too. The welts, and then the ghastly greenish color, and then the painful shriveling of the limbs, and–and didn’t Surito say there was a chance it could come back? What if–”

“Setoto.” Alka grasped her hand, careful not to jostle her afflicted arm. “We don’t know that yet.”

A door opening further down the hall alerted them both. With Setoto’s hasty nod, Alka fully stepped in the room and quietly shut the door. 

“You are but recently come to Ul’dah,” he told her gently. “There may be all manner of common sores and illnesses that you’ve never been exposed to, making you more susceptible to them.” He reached into the pocket of his sarouel and handed her a handkerchief. 

“I apologize,” he hung his head, “I should have thought of that before inviting you to a city packed to the bloody brim for a festival…”

Setoto gratefully took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes before noisily blowing her nose into it. “Don’t blame yourself, Alka,” she said thickly, “I would’ve come anyway.

“I��I really do want you to be my seneschal for the day. Just not…” Setoto gestured hopelessly to her arm with her hand that clutched the kerchief, still holding his hand tight with her other. “And what if, in public….”

Alka mustered his most reassuring smile. “Let us call upon a chirurgeon. I am sure we can arrange to have someone sent up to the rooms–Ul’dah plays host to the Alchemists’ Guild, after all.”

“But…”

“If they cannot diagnose it,” said Alka, squeezing her hand, “we will call upon Surito. He will set things right.”

Setoto’s shoulders relaxed, but her eyes were still fearful. “What if it’s just a temporary fix?”

“Then we seek a longer term stratagem, my lady.” Alka gingerly lifted his hand to her cheek, and when she leaned against the touch he thumbed away the fresh tears there.

“Let us take it day by day,” he said. “And today, I have a princess that will want for escorting after she is given the very best care the realm has to offer…if she is still amenable.”

Setoto let out a small, glad sob. “I would like that. Thank you, Alka.”

[chimeracreations-art]

Got into building up some 30 min sister kit recently and damn are they a fun line, like the combination of easily to build nature, price point and mix and match from kit make thing extremely fun.

like so far iv got  Alka-Carti (left) and Rishetta (right) and some armor and body options sets to mix and match for funzys. really playing up the customizable part as while the bits and bobs of armor are simple you can make some fun combos and fun personalization's.

since the line is still fairly new as it just started it pretty easy to get most of these kit baring the new stuff casue... you know it a 50/50 on scalping or supply issues but still the line seems to be evolving in a interesting way as the initial kit have a fairly simple base look that now is being diversify with different vibes and outfits and maybe body types as two of the later kit to have more smaller body's and limbs and the two new one might be thicker idk little hard to tell with out something to scale, i throw some photo below .

it very interesting, to see them go from plug-suit/bodysuit stuff to having a few different take on that or adding in new bits and bobs to make each girl stand out more then a different hair style and skin tone. definitely hope they keep up with making different base idea and expanding on that with ether main kits or option parts.

[melpcmene-arch]

sender kisses receiver's forehead. from @stxrmstained @ alkas. we're feeling spicy this sunday

VARYING KISSES PROMPT. ( accepting !! )

( Kill, kill and kill again. Your rancid blood is once again demanding something from you. A palm flat out; fingers outstretched. In need of an offering. The offering was someone's death. By your hands only. It calls, echoing, demanding and then like a ripple effect, it soon stills. The pressure of a kiss is made, and you feel at the centre once more. No cruel thoughts, only confusion. )

Alkas' eyes fluttered closed, and then reopens them again, looking up at Seira. A hand wanders up, the pads of his fingers tracing over his forehead. Touched by lips. Traces of a very recent memory remains firm in his mind - an image captured. "I wonder if that's a new magic spell you've been cooking up. Or is this perhaps a form of an apology for choking me?" He spoke, tone tailored to purposely tease. Though confusion remains. What was that? And why?

[seluniite-archived]

She sees it brewing beneath the surface - no, she has seen it; remnants of confusion and uncertainty that culminated in something that told her to let @bhaalswn know that she was listening. She didn't pry where it was not wanted, and didn't force the conversation when it seemed that Alkas had trouble making sense of himself it throughout their journey, but as fragmented realities had begun to take shape in the occasional memory, a frightening form, and a dissociation that darkened his gaze on occasion, the pain had become far more evident.

She hadn't expected such a simple statement to open floodgates of vulnerability that brought an immediate sting in her throat. She wants to apologize, but remains silent. Listening, and allowing hands to lift and find his own, offering warmth in the way she grips them as if afraid he may crumble before her.

❝ You've been in the dark since this all started, I understand your fear. ❞ She speaks softly, matching his tone as it barely lingers above a whisper. ❝ Whatever you find out, remember this...nothing of what you may discover has ever been set in stone. ❞

The unknown and what it might mean seemed trivial when the version of Alkas she had come to know did not incite fear or loathing, Bhaalists be damned. ❝ I have met this version of you, and I have no qualms. If there is a version of you that you don't wish to be, then you know now you're capable of fighting it. Your fear is good because means you would be willing to fight it. ❞

�� CONTINUED FROM 【 HERE 】

[gmqazi19739]

Udit Narayan - Bio, Top 30 Best Bollywood Music

The name Udit Narayan is synonymous with the golden era of Bollywood music. With a voice that has defined the soundtrack to countless films, he is considered one of the most prolific vocalists in Indian cinema. His melodious voice and versatility made him the singing voice on screen for many Bollywood stars, leaving a lasting mark on the industry and inspiring millions Let's dive into the life and career of this iconic artist.

Best Udit Narayan Bollywood Music Download

Biography and Early Life Born on December 1, 1955 in Bhardaha, Saptari, Nepal, Udit Narayan Jha came from humble beginnings. Growing up in a small village, he was exposed to the rich cultural traditions of Nepali and Maithili music from an early age. As a result, his passion for music emerged at a young age, which led him to perform folk songs in his native language. Music training and early career Moreover, Udita’s training in Hindi classical music laid the foundation for his future success. He started his career as a Maithili folk singer singing in Maithili and Nepali on Radio Nepal in the 1970s. As he honed his craft, he gradually shifted to playing modern Nepali music, thus gaining recognition for his unique voice and style. Entering Bollywood Udit Narayan’s big break came in 1980 when he got a chance to sing in Bollywood. His first as a vocalist was in the film "One's Bees." But it was 1988's "Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak" that really catapulted him into stardom. The song "Papa Kehte Hain" became a huge hit, eventually making Udit Narayan a household name and launching a brilliant career in Bollywood. Breakthrough hits and collaborations Also, the 1990s were a golden era for Udit Narayan, filled with many hit songs and memorable duos. Notably, he collaborated closely with Alka Yagnik, and their songs became iconic, defining the mainstream Bollywood love story of the era. Songs like "Pehla Nasha", "Jaadu Teri Nazar", "Dil Ne Yeh Kaha Hai Dil Se". He works with Bollywood Legends Apart from Udit Narayan, the film has worked with Bollywood legends like Amitabh Bachchan, Rajesh Khanna and Devanand. His ability to match his musical style with the personalities of these performers not only enhanced his career, but helped cement his status as a leading singer in the genre Praise and Awards Udit Narayan's contribution to the Hindi music industry has earned him many accolades over the years. In particular, he won three National Film Awards and five Filmfare Awards, making him the only male musician to win in three different decades the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s. Respect and Acceptance Udit Narayan was awarded the Padma Shri in 2009 and the Padma Bhushan in 2016 by the Government of India for his contribution to the arts. A versatile talent as a singer One of the defining qualities of Udit Narayan is his ability to sing in multiple languages. Apart from Hindi, he sang in many languages ​​like Marathi, Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Bengali, Gujarati, Punjabi, etc. Udit Narayan's legacy in Bollywood His voice became synonymous in the 1990s and early 2000s, often associating it with some of Bollywood’s biggest blockbusters. He played a pivotal role in the popularity of romantic gal songs in movies, setting the tone for future generations of vocalists Personal life Personally, Udit Narayan is married to Deepa Narayan Jha, and together they have a son, Aditya Narayan, who followed in his father's footsteps as a singer and television presenter. The Narayan family continues to support the music industry, and Aditya sometimes with his play the musical father at concerts and events. Challenges and returns Like many artists, Udit Narayan faced challenges such as changes in Hindi songs and the rise of new musicians. However, he showed his flexibility and flexibility by changing his style to keep it relevant. Popular songs and albums Some of Udit Narayan's favorite songs are "Papa Kehte Hain", "Tip Tip Barsa Pani", "Raja Ko Rani Se", "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai", "Mehndi Lagake Rakhna". The 1990s and early 2000s are often considered as the golden era of Bollywood songs, and Udit Narayan was at the forefront of this era. His soulful voice and passionate melodies captivated millions. Even as the music industry flourished, Udit adapted, captivating the audience with his melodious voice. Conclusion In conclusion, Udit Narayan’s journey from a small village in Nepal is truly inspiring. With a career that spanned decades and many accolades, he left an indelible mark on the music industry. Moreover, his legacy continues to influence new generations of musicians, ensuring that his music remains a beloved part of Bollywood history forever. FAQs What was Udit Narayan's first Bollywood song? His first Bollywood song was in the movie "Unees Bees", but he rose to fame with "Papa Kehte Hain" from "Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak". In how many languages ​​did Udit Narayan sing? Udit Narayan has sung in more than 20 languages ​​including Hindi, Marathi, Tamil, Telugu, Bengali, and more. Who did Udit Narayan win awards for? He has won three National Film Awards, five Filmfare Awards and the Padma Shri and Padma Bhushan. Who is the son of Udit Narayan? His son Aditya Narayan is a singer and television presenter. When did Udit Narayan receive the Padma Bhushan? Udit Narayan was awarded the Padma Bhushan in 2016 for his contribution to Indian music. Read the full article

[bhaalswn-arch]

Also, if anyone wants to add Alkas either as a Hireling ( 'cos I think you can edit appearances on Hirelings ) or those who have that appearance edit mod ( editing origin characters, etc. ) Then here's his stats

Alkas Voice 5 High Half-Elf Head 5 Blush tone 2 Freckle Quantity high, but Freckle Intensity is low Tattoo is Buggish Curls ( Black ) Piercings is Barovia Fangs Elf Gold 2 for Eyes Makeup #2, black, low intensity Hair: Eyrie Peak. Hair Colour: Blond Gold 2 And that's about it

[worldscollidinginone]

Chapter 5 - Life Is A Game

Go to master list

Kiara told me that she wanted to meet me on Friday when her friends are out partying. She also told me to stay back for dinner, if I could. 

I said okay. Not that I was doing something productive anyway. I would have probably gone to the gym and practiced taekwondo to the point that I would faint from exhaustion and I would get carried to my bedroom and sleep. I still don't know who carries me to my bedroom, but this is not what I am supposed to be thinking about. 

I was more confused about the fact that she didn't want her friends around when we were at her apartment. Weird. 

I reach her apartment and it was very nicely put together, but there were some elements that looked off, like the way the Eiffel Tower was positioned and the misplaced things all over the apartment. 

I also met with Alka, Kiara's maid and she is very sweet. She kept putting the things in the right way, but Kiara would just it back to her liking. I found that quite amusing. 

"So, you wanted to talk?" 

"Yeah..." 

"About what?" 

"About you." 

"What about me?" 

"That's what I don't understand, I mean...I don't know, there is something so mysterious about you that really intrigues me and when I tried talking to my friends, they all said the same thing." 

"And what, exactly?" 

"I should talk to you so that I can understand." 

"Your friends have said the right thing. Whatever doubts, concerns, or just anything, you just have to know I'll be listening, and not just hearing." 

"You know, I figured what was bothering me." 

"And what was it?" 

"You feel like as I have seen an older version of me." 

"Because we are so similar to each other. And it does makes sense, in a weird way. Because the first time I had met you, I felt I was meeting with my younger self, not that I am not young anyway, but you know you get the point." 

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Yeah." 

"Who is he?" 

"Who are you talking about?" 

"The guy on your phone's wallpaper." 

She means Jug. 

"I told you, someone, special." 

"But the way you said, it felt like you were missing him almost...as if..." 

"As if?" 

"I don't know. Something's off." 

"So, you have called me to your apartment so that you can find out who is the guy from my phone's wallpaper? Be honest, Kiara." 

"Yeah." 

"What? I know I seem very approachable, which I am, but there are some sections of my life that I would rather keep personal and not public, so that means they stay with me." 

"Why not telling it and make yourself free from the pain?" 

"Kiara..., curiosity killed the cat." with a disapproving tone. 

"And who told you that I am in pain?"  

"I can see it in your eyes. He made you very happy, probably the happiest you've been in your entire life and..." 

"And..?" 

"And something happened which made you split up with each other. You are probably angry at him." 

"No." 

"No?" 

"No, I am not angry at him. I am angry at the circumstances that we had, and the things that should have happened said, and done. But you know what makes me angrier and more upset: The things that I always wanted to say to him, the things that I wanted to do with him, and most importantly the things that I always wanted to say but never had the courage because I was afraid of the consequences." 

"What did you want to say to him?" 

"I love you. Just come back. I am sorry for hurting you, but I am not sorry for what I am going to do." 

After, a long and awkward 10 mins, I decided that I needed to leave. 

"Anyway, I should go now. " 

"Madam, aap pehle khana khakar chale jaa na." 

"Nahin Alka. Aaj nahin. Phir kabhi. Aur  Tum mujhe sirf Priya keheke bulaoge aur kuch nahin. Tumhari madam nahin hoon main." 

"And another thing Kiara. We people like solving mysteries because we know the danger is contained and does not impact our lives. People like intrigue, search, enjoy, play, and wonder. It does not mean it won't bite you back in the ass. Be careful about what you choose to do, because it will have a consequence." 

Then I left before I would start crying. Life is a game, and in this move, life was winning and I was losing. 

Go back to Chapter 4

Go to Chapter 6

[oakthcrn]

“This isn’t you”

Send “This isn’t you” for your muse to try and stop my muse from doing something reckless.

accepting @bhaalswn-arch / @bhaalswn

" You have no idea who I am, Alkas. " Lark replied with ire in her tone, her expression becoming a scowl as she shot a dangerous glare at her companion.

" You shouldn't even be here." She seethed as she paced back and forth. The Necromancy of Thay remained in her hands. The book had disappeared days ago. On the ground beside them was the unconscious form of Ruhn Valencia, bounded by his wrists and ankles.

Lark flipped a page and continued reading the contents. " A soul for a soul. it says it all here, you know." She said with deadly calmness. " I get rid of an ongoing problem and, in return, my beloved Caelum. He will walk beside me again."

She glared at Alkas, her emerald hues glazed with fanatic hope. It had been laid out for her, but who would whisper such secrets in her ear, and what price did she pay to uncover such information when the book had been so elusive?

" Step aside, Alkas, I am doing this, and you will not impede me. Do you understand?"

[pujakhatri]

"Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital: Pioneering Excellence in Fertility Care in Rajasthan"

In the heart of Rajasthan, where tradition and modernity converge, the landscape of healthcare is evolving rapidly. One area that has seen remarkable progress is reproductive medicine, and at the forefront of this revolution is the "Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital." As the demand for fertility treatments grows, this IVF centre in Rajasthan stands as a beacon of hope for couples struggling with infertility.

The Rise of Reproductive Medicine in Rajasthan:

Rajasthan, known for its vibrant culture and historical significance, is also witnessing a significant shift in its healthcare landscape. Gone are the days when infertility was a whispered concern, discussed in hushed tones. Today, with advancements in medical science, infertility is being addressed openly and proactively.

Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital: A Trusted Name in Fertility Care:

Nestled in the heart of Rajasthan, Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital has emerged as a trusted name in fertility care. The hospital combines state-of-the-art infrastructure with a team of experienced fertility specialists, offering comprehensive solutions to couples aspiring to start a family.

World-Class Facilities:

One of the hallmarks of Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital is its world-class facilities. The hospital boasts cutting-edge technology and a modern infrastructure designed to provide a comfortable and reassuring environment for patients. The advanced laboratories and specialized equipment ensure that patients receive the highest standard of care.

Expertise in Assisted Reproductive Techniques (ART):

The core strength of Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital lies in its expertise in Assisted Reproductive Techniques (ART). The team of fertility specialists, embryologists, and support staff work cohesively to offer a range of services, including in vitro fertilization (IVF), intrauterine insemination (IUI), and egg freezing. The hospital's commitment to staying abreast of the latest advancements in reproductive medicine ensures that patients receive the most effective and innovative treatments.

Personalized Care and Compassion:

Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital understands that fertility journeys are unique, and each patient requires personalized care. The compassionate approach of the medical team fosters a supportive environment, helping patients navigate the emotional and physical challenges associated with fertility treatments. The hospital's commitment to patient-centric care is reflected in its success stories and the testimonials of satisfied families.

Transparent and Ethical Practices:

Transparency and ethical practices are the cornerstones of Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital. From the initial consultation to the treatment plan, patients are kept informed at every step of the journey. The hospital is dedicated to providing honest and clear information about the chances of success, potential risks, and the financial aspects of fertility treatments. This commitment to transparency builds trust and confidence among patients.

Community Outreach and Education:

Beyond its role as a healthcare provider, Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital actively engages in community outreach and education. The hospital organizes awareness programs, workshops, and seminars to educate the public about fertility issues, the available treatments, and the importance of seeking timely medical intervention. By fostering awareness, the hospital aims to break the stigma surrounding infertility and encourage proactive healthcare-seeking behavior.

Conclusion:

Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital stands as a beacon of hope for couples facing the challenges of infertility in Rajasthan. With its world-class facilities, expertise in assisted reproductive techniques, personalized care, and commitment to ethical practices, the hospital is pioneering excellence in fertility care. As the demand for fertility treatments continues to grow, Alka IVF Shree Kanak Hospital remains dedicated to helping individuals and couples achieve their dream of parenthood, making a lasting impact on the landscape of reproductive medicine in Rajasthan.

[ode-of-odr-archive]

“it was a dark and stormy nightmare.”

The wine had the tiefling flushed in his cheeks, not that his dark gray skin tone allowed that to be shown much. Now that the point of simple humor had him in stitches he burst out laughing at Alkas' take on the age-old start of a story.

"So, our camp three days ago when it rained? Or are we talking the night you or I were born?" he said with a slight slur to his words.

[moonridge]

( continued from x. )

　　　　　　　　　*

　　　for ozus, there's always a brief flit of dread prickling just beneath their skin at the sight of a cold, lifeless body at someone's feet. brief as it is — and what a tragedy that something so macabre would elicit a feeling so brief — those vibrant eyes tear from the corpse to look upon alkas instead as he greets them.

　　　there, a squint pulls at their eyes — a smile, surely, without moving their lips at all. their hand raises to move one finger at a time in a wave. ❝ hi. ❞ short and sweet, a tone that inflects nothing at all. a smile finally does begin its dance across their black-striped lips after, as if it was miles late.

　　　❝ yes, it's me. and it's you, standing over a poor, unfortunate soul. ❞ a click of the tongue, and then their eyes find the corpse once more. ❝ i have to ask: do they have anything interesting on them? personal effects? a nice dagger passed down for generations? maybe a little letter from a spurned lover? ❞ and then, finally, the question they meant to ask from the start:

　　　❝ what even happened? ❞ and are you alright?

　　　　　　　　　　　 —@bhaalswn—