#at least when it comes to what material you might be able to get dye from.

[drinking-paintwater]

hi hi hi!!! i’m not a natural dye expert by any means but i have experience working with it and i LOVE yapping about natural dye and historical fashion so. this post is really buzzing around my brain. i'm so so sorry for the absolutely incoherent rant i'm about to subject you to. (obviously this is just me and my experiences with dye processes talking. again. not the expert.)

(under a read more because good god i'm just yapping away here.)

first off, can i throw another contender in the ring for what color is Irene's Color™?? consider. indigo!! indigo is a natural dye that gives a beautiful blue, very deep and very rich. it's perfect for irene's hood-cloak-thing. HOWEVER. assuming your ru'an is based off of europe, you run into a similar-ish problem with tyrian purple, in that it is probably inaccessible to the average person---it would probably be imported into ru'an. perhaps from tu'la, which would have very interesting implications as to the relationship between tu'la and ru'an, and perceptions of the ru'anians who use indigo, especially after the tu'la invasion should you keep that in your rewrite. (maybe it could be a compromise between woad and tyrian purple?? perhaps??)

and that brings me to another thing!! what dye plants grow in ru'an and where? because that is a very important question that affects what colors your characters have access to. you can absolutely have naturally dyed greens and pinks. that is a thing that CAN exist with natural dye---i have seen it and i have done it---but it is dependent on what plants exist and where they're growing, like the indigo plant that i've mentioned.

assuming, again, that ru'an = europe. they would have access to madder (red) and weld (yellow---very bright yellow). disclaimer, my experience with naturally dyed green is with indigo. i've never worked with woad before. BUT. in theory. you should be able to dye something in weld and then dye it again in woad to get green. it's a slightly different process with indigo but that particular dye may or may not even be available in metelli anyways, so it doesn't really matter.

although. tangent about green in medieval-and-renaissance-ish europe. it was a wealthy people color, as you have to essentially dye the material twice when using natural dye. it was a way to flaunt your wealth without breaking sumptuary laws, which were established because the nobility really didn't like the new money tradesmen now being able to afford to "dress above their station" aka dress like the nobility. (i could go on about sumptuary laws but they essentially limited who could wear what and how much of a given material someone could use. like silk---you can only wear so much silk in your outfit if you aren't noble or whatever.) of course you don't have to use sumptuary laws, but i do think the implications of laurance (and cadenza) wearing green in this context would be fascinating.

okay so. about my claim that you can get naturally dyed pink. abandon all hopes of, like, hot pink at the door. BUT. a super light percentage of madder will give you, like, different shades of salmon pink. super pretty!! (you can find a picture of these pinks here https://blog.bindandfold.com/?p=570.)

see, when you dye something, the amount of time you have it in the dye bath doesn't typically matter? all that really matters is that you give the dye enough time to bond to the fiber you're dying, which is typically an hour (if you take out your fiber before the dye has enough time to bond to it, your color will fade. i have made this mistake. major bummer). what really matters is the WOF---the weight of fiber, or the percentage of dye material compared to the weight of the material you want dyed.

basically i would put less madder in my dye bath if i was trying to make pink, and more madder if i was trying to make a solid red, but both dye baths would need to sit for an hour to be colorfast and not fade.

also!! exhaust baths!! another way to get a lighter color (like pink)!! see, sometimes when you have a dye bath, there will still be dye particles leftover after you've run your first bath and taken your material out. you can (usually) still use this dye. you just put new fiber into it, and bam. we call this an exhaust bath---because the dye is "exhausted" . exhaust baths are always going to be lighter than the first bath, since they had less dye than the one that preceeded them. so long as the remaining dye particles have enough time to bond with the fiber, an exhuast bath should be just as colorfast as the first try. i've been able to get like, two or three dye baths out of the same pot of dye before. it works.

okay. i think that's all that i have in my brain. also i have definitely yapped on long enough. hope this was helpful!! good luck with your rewrite!!👍👍

when i’m trying to use a more plausible color scheme for everyone in my MCD rewrite (since it’s going to be set in a more underdeveloped time period, a lot of colors are going to be expensive/hard to find) and can’t decide what colors to give certain people 😭

im obviously gonna keep some of the original colors in the beginning (like Lord Burt wearing red because of its significance as a powerful color), but keep everyone’s else’s mostly plain. for example Nana won’t be an explosion of pink (although it will remain her favorite color), Aphmau won’t be wearing purple as often (the most common variation of the color was tyrian purple which took a very extensive amount of labor to make even one gram of the pigment. that, as well as the color being reserved for royalty), and Laurance won’t have as many green articles of clothing in the section of my rewrite portraying season two (the emerald green pigment was made from arsenic, which made it not only extremely toxic to produce but to wear as well as the skin would absorb the poison)

(i’m still debating about Dante and Garroth with their blue tones because it was a more common color amongst the poor people and was made with cheap, low quality dye, but Louis IX and Henry VIII started wearing it with other nobles and it became a color of high standing so…)

now this is also where I also come to a standstill because of these colors and what they used to represent. each Divine Warrior will have a color associated with them, which is where part of their symbolism will come from. however, I’m stuck on what color to give Irene

there’s a very brief clip somewhere I can’t remember when it appeared, but Irene was wearing a black two piece that seemed to be torn. I imagine this being something like her “first” outfit in the world so i’m not too worried about that one, but I’m more concerned about the one she wears when she’s portrayed

we see Irene wearing two cloaks from what I remember (my memory is garbage and I have yet to reach that far in anything). one of her cloaks was royal blue and the other is a lilac purple. the lilac purple would be a more difficult hue to achieve in the time period i’m reaching for, so either way i’m going to make the purple into a deeper shade.

i’m having such a war in my head about which color to choose for her, though. because both colors could signify who she is and i’m honestly debating just having different people give her different colors but I don’t know

on one hand, tyrian purple was a color reserved for royalty. using it could be used to show the high regard in which people in Ru’aun placed her. it could be used to signify their desire to have Irene rule as queen over the region before she diminished the monarchy and developed the Lord system instead. however, this color was made from a tiring process that required extensive amount of labor for barely anything to show the effort, and I feel as though the way to obtain the color doesn’t represent Irene the Matron

on the other hand, I feel as though a deeper blue pigment would be a better match. blue was original worn by peasants but the steady popularity it gained with nobility made it a more expensive and luxurious color for people that could afford it, as I previously said. this color I feel would fit better with her character to show that Irene came from humble beginnings and was put on a pedestal after her efforts for peace and becoming Lord of Scaleswind (which would be equal to blue becoming a color of nobility). the only problem with the blue is that the dye used by the peasants was low quality made from the woad plant that (from what i’ve seen) was dyed much lighter compared to the royal blue i’m talking about. i don’t know, maybe she got an upgrade at some point…

(can you tell i love the history behind colors)

(also if anyone has any other impactful information concerning colors please let me know i also actually love learning about it)

(and greatest apologies guys this is basically a yap post it has very little significance to anything)

[midnightmoondarksky]

Ok, hear me out, I'm maybe gonna sound crazy, but you know how there are "creator houses" where a bunch of influencers live under one roof and collaborate together?

What if you were to form a "creative house" where you and a bunch of your artist friends get together in a large house with different rooms dedicated to different crafts and everyone can work together on different art things and you would always be able to pick someone's brain about their specialty to get their opinion on how someone might tackle a curtain project or something. So like there's one room with a bunch of different kinds of fabric and fake furs and a space dedicated to cutting said material so no one gets fibers in their lungs, and then there was a different room dedicated to like clay craft with turn tables and all sorts of sculping tools and a communal kiln, and there was like a theater/community video gaming room that can be used to show off film and game projects (or give memey power point presentations) and another space with a community dedicated airbrushing station since there are so many different things that airbrushing can be used for like figure painting or painting cosplay parts or fur details.

That's not all tho, you could host group game nights for RPGs (whether that just be D&D or some other new sort of thing that someone in the group has come up with) or you could have a painting room that can have group life studies (but can be converted to a more open painting studio space when not everyone is there all at once) and there's a painting drying room off to the side for convenience. There would also probably be a wood working area for the sake of it cause ya know we like doing all the shit.

There would probably also be at least two kitchens with one for normal food stuff and the other which is probably more industrial for stuff like making soap, candles, handling dye and other things of that sort.

There would also definitely have to be a recording booth room for singers and Voice actors.

Now I want this so damn bad

(honestly glad this is where my brain wondered to instead of where it could have gone but now I'm obsessed with this idea)

[mcleanpainting]

Painting Trends: What's New In The World Of Painters

Painting is a very old art, but it's also one that has evolved and grown over time. There are new trends and techniques to keep up with, which means that if you want to be an effective painter, you need to know what's new in the world of Painters Melbourne (or at least get some recommendations from people who do).

In this article we'll look at four different painting techniques that are currently popular among professional artists: glazing techniques like glazing stones or 2-part epoxy resins; airbrushing; using solvents in order to remove unwanted dyes; and stencilling.

Embracing New Techniques and Materials

The use of new techniques and materials is a great way to break out into the world of Painters Melbourne. Not only are these new methods exciting, but they can also be incredibly helpful for your artistic process.

Using new techniques and materials will help you create works that look like no other piece in your collection. These pieces will stand out from the crowd and draw attention in a positive way—something that every artist wants!

In addition to creating unique pieces, using these techniques also expands your creative possibilities when it comes time for future projects or exhibitions.

Eco-Friendly Paints

Eco-friendly paints are made from natural ingredients, which means they're low in VOCs (volatile organic compounds) and other harmful chemicals. They also contain less solvents and lead than traditional paints.

And since eco-friendly paints are made with materials that can be found on earth, they'll have no effect on the environment!

The environmental benefits of using eco-friendly products should not be taken lightly—if you want to make sure your home is as safe as possible for both you and your loved ones, consider using these types of paint instead of traditional ones.

Reviving Curb Appeal with Fresh Palettes

You may have heard about the new trend of using fresh palettes to create a more natural look. This can be done with paint, but it also extends to other materials like wood and fabric.

For example, you might paint your walls with eco-friendly paints that are made from recycled materials or even use nontoxic glue instead of traditional wallpaper paste. You could also create unique wallpapers by mixing different shades of colour into one canvas; this way, you’re able to add texture while still keeping things simple enough for anyone who comes over!

Exploring New Ways to Apply Paint

New ways to apply paint are constantly emerging, but there are also some tried-and-true techniques that have been around for ages. For example, you can still use acrylics on canvas—it just means making sure you're using a compatible brand and not an expired one.

You may be able to use oil paints in some circumstances; they're usually better suited for larger areas or objects where the paint will stay wet longer than acrylics.

Oil paints tend also be more water resistant than watercolours and tempera paints so they're good choices if you're working outdoors or in wet conditions (or both).

You'll want something light-coloured rather than opaque white because it won't reflect much light back into your room like white does when it dries completely solid over time—but this isn't always necessary if all of your work happens indoors where there isn't any direct sunlight coming through windows during daylight hours anyway!

Conclusion

With all these new trends, you can be sure that there will always be something fresh and exciting to try. Whether you're a seasoned Painters Melbourne or are just getting started, our tips have some great suggestions for what's hot in the world of painting.

Source URL: https://hiringprofessionalpainter.blogspot.com/2023/06/painting-trends-whats-new-in-world-of.html

[benichi]

Tips & Tricks for Story of Seasons - Pioneers of Olive Town

Here are some tips and tricks to make your farming life more easy! Basically the Makers play a very big role in this game (similar to My Time at Portia if you’re familiar with the game). You won’t be able to progress without using them, unlike previous SoS entires where they had a more optional role.

• Be! Organized!👏

This is something I learned the hard way in My Time at Portia where I would just randomly cram everything into Boxes without much though... which lead to a lot of unnesessary searching and organizing later on. So right from the start, make several Boxes and categorize what you will put in them (1 Box for Flowers,1 for Foraging etc.). Obviously this can and will change over time as you start getting more resources. At the beginning I put Lumber/Stones/Ores etc. into one Box because I had their Makers next to each other, but now that I have access to several kinds of wood and Ores I’ve seperated them.

This also goes for the set up of your Farm. Moving things around in this game is honestly a pain so you should try to plan ahead as much as possible.

When removing a Box everything you stored inside will be dropped to the ground. Be prepared with enough Inventory space and time.

! You can store your tools in the Tool Bag for additional space. This is a useful trick in general.

There are 3 Areas to use. The one you start with which is the smallest, ones to the left which unlocks via a Bridge and is a bit bigger. Plus North by clearing some rubble which is the biggest.

Keep your enemies close and your resources even closer: when unlocking these Areas I’d recommend to use Money rather than resources. Usually you’ll need your resources to build stuff and progress (Lumber and Ingots are holy) especially later on when it takes longer to process the Products you’ll do good to hold on to them. I’ll add more on how to make money down below.

Back to organizing. Personally I think that putting your Makers into Area 2 (once unlocked) is a good idea because you’ll be running though there often so you can just pop in and check on your Makers, replenish if needed etc. The rest is up to personal preference I’d say. I don’t like growing crops too much so I’ve put them on the first Area while my Animals are on the third. 

Use the terrain to your advantage. Basically keep a balance between zones you actively use and just letting nature grow/items spawn. Especially at the beginning when you need a lot of materials I’d recommend to let nature run wild to get a lot of resources. As you progress and don’t need as much of the (lower grade) resources anymore (or you have enough money to simply buy them) you can start putting down paths and decorations so that you don’t have to clean up the area each day. 

For example: you’ll need a lot of iron initially so I wouldn’t put down a path in front of the second mine because some rocks spawn there. But once you got the third mine unlocked and can basically get all your resources from there there’s nothing wrong with setting up a path in that spot, which will prevent the rocks from spawning.

! Pay attention to what spawns where. Higher level materials have less area they’re available on. So if you put down your Barn and Coop in that zone you’ll be blocking their space to grow = less resources. Initially I’d recommend sticking to one part of your area (near the beginning) and leaving the rest open for nature to grow so that you can gather Lumber etc. For example: once I unlocked Area 3 I put my Barn and Coop near the beginning so that they won’t interfere with the Tree growth.

You can see the subtle difference between the Trees below. Basically when it comes to lumber and ores the highest ranking materials are always on the left side of each Area. The only exception to this is the highest ranking Wood (Mirage) by the Hydroculture Plant.

! Survey your Areas regularly. New Crops, Animals etc. will pop up from time to time, so be sure to have a look around. When there is a new crop/flower just ship it, the seeds will be available next day.

Prioritize your Hammer and Axe. As you can see these are the most important ones. For the first half I’d say the Axe is more important, but once you get to Area 3 (and need Gold) you should switch your focus to the Hammer. Below you can see that only my Axe/Hammer are golden. The Watering can is Silver while the Sickle and Bucket are Iron. The Hoe I hadn’t upgraded at this point at all.

! You will unlock the small sprinklers early. While certainly helpful I wouldn’t resort to using just them, as the use of your watering can will raise your Fieldwork skill. Again I’d say that balance between using both is important as seen above.

Always have your Makers running. Though in this case you should also pay special attention Lumber and Ore you will need everything at some point, trust me. You’ll unlock different Makers by raising your skills.

The setup that got my through a lot of the story. Not pretty but efficient.

! To maximize the use of your time put in resources that take a long time over night (so they will be ready next morning) and those with a shorter time during the day so you can replenish when needed. Of course this can be thrown out the window when you need a lot of something that takes longer to process.

Ship one keep one. A lot of items will become available in their respective Store once shipped. From what I can tell this doesn’t apply to processed goods (for example you can buy Durable Log but no the processed version which is Durable Lumber). There are some exceptions though, Dye can be shipped and will then become available for purchase at the Flower Shop. If you want to test out whether something will become available once shipped simply save the night before and put the item into the shipment box. If you wake up and get a Message that says “____ Shop has expanded it’s product lineup!” it worked, otherwise you can reload and keep the Item. On the other hand it’s also a good idea to keep at least one of each item, or at least those that don’t show up as commonly (like Olive Crystals from Puddles etc.)

! Don’t ship/gift all of the foragable Flowers though. I know it’s tempting, especially at the beginning. But you will be needing 3 each of Moondrop, Pink Cat, Magic Red and Magic Blue Flowers for the Honey Maker.

Sprites and the Sprite Shop. As you’re working on your farm you will see these smalls Sprites pop up from time to time. Eventually you'll be able to travel to the Earth Sprite Village, which gives you access to more resources. At the beginning there are only 3 Earth Sprites you can get items from. but once you’ve gathered 100 small Spirits you’ll unlock an option to add additional Spirits (Field, Journey, Care, Fishing and Food). The (Field) Sprite/s is/are especially great because he/they can give you access to resources you may not be able to acuire just yet. Same goes for the Shop, the items at the bottom of the menu change daily so be sure to keep and eye on them. You don’t have to collect resources from the respective Sprites each day though, the items do stack over time.

Mining = $ $ $ . You will be hitting up those mines for Ores anyways, might as well make the most of it. The Mine gives you access to raw Material (raw Diamond in particular) which can be turned into pure Jewels with the Jewel Maker (unlocks at Mining Skill Lv. 6) and make for great money.

Town Hall Requests. We’ve already established that Lumber and Ingots are basically holy. Each time you get a request there will be 3 choices on how you can fulfill them. Obviously use the one which uses the resources you can produce fastest and don’t need for building Makers/upgrading tools etc.

Title Rewards. While at the Town Hall it’s a good idea to check the Mailbox right to the Request Board. This is where you can accept rewards after raising you skill levels. They range from coins that can be sold for money to seeds, resources and even Makers. Be sure to drop by often.

This should help you get a gist of what’s important. I hope you found this guide helpful! If there are questions feels free to ask :)

[erineverly]

“not that i’m complaining, but i wouldn’t mind if things settled down and got a bit more boring,” the curly-haired brunette muses with a laugh, doubting they’ll ever be boring, but hoping they’ll one day be less crazy. “mr presley, is that really you? back from the dead? and sounding better than ever!” gushing as she puts on her best starstruck fan act, she clasps a hand over her mouth and still lets out a squeal of sheer excitement. “alright, boxers it is.” she nods and kisses the top of his head, picking her fights wisely and deciding there’s really no point in trying to convince him to wear something else to bed. she wants him to be comfortable and able to fall asleep easily, not tossing and turning all night because his pajamas are driving him insane. “i’m so sorry, axl. i feel like a lot of what i said that day was unnecessary and i could have kept it to myself, but… guess that’s why i need to see a professional. this idea’s finally grown on me. i don’t want to lash out and hurt you when my emotions get the best of me. and it’s silly, but i need someone to show me how to do it, how deal with what i’m feeling without hurting others.” the least she can do now is assure him that none of those cruel words are true. “i didn’t really give up on you either. well, at first, i wanted to but then i realized that i couldn’t — i can’t live without you,” she shyly admits, glancing over her shoulder toward the bathroom in hopes of meeting her husband’s gaze. “oh, so you have a type, huh? has to be a brunette?” teasing, a faint laugh escapes her lips but then quickly dies down when she takes in her surroundings. gosh. this room has never looked so bad, she thinks, but can’t really blame axl. he’s been trying his best to survive, one day at a time.  “well, i might be wrong but i think pam is naturally a brunette. they just dye or bleach her hair because apparently most men in hollywood disagree with you and believe blondes are hotter.” trailing across the room, she begins to pick up dirty dishes, bottles, plastic wrappers, tissues and whatever else she can find. she takes it all downstairs and squeezes it into the trash can. 

when she returns, she does so with a vacuum under her arm, figuring a little noise at four in the morning won’t bother any of their neighbors because they’re too far away to hear a thing. the biggest advantage of living in malibu, she thinks to herself, no more gabriella’s. it takes her about fifteen minutes to clean every speck of dust and another ten to change the sheets — it’s a bit of a struggle at first but then she gets the hang of it. it’s her first time changing the sheets on a bed as big as this all alone. she simply lacks experience and technique. “remember when i said that i wanted a huge, huge bed? well… if i knew how tough it was to change the sheets, i’d suggest we buy a twin.” laughing, she folds the dirty sheets up and carries this gigantic pile of fabrics straight to the laundry room. she comes and goes several more times, bringing in one item and leaving with something else, but when she’s done, she just stands in the doorway for a moment, hands on her hips, marveling at her work with pride. she feels so horrible, thinking about her husband spending the past few weeks in a filthy room, rotting away, and so this is the least she can do for him. “what a charmer you are, husband o’ mine,” she giggles, thinking about his comment on being a baywatch fan. she shakes her head in amusement at how smooth it was. she trials to the closet, steps in and swiftly changes out of her clothes once she knows the other can’t see her from where he’s sitting in the tub. she easily finds the muscle tee that they’ve been talking about and nuzzles into the soft material, breathing it in before she’ll put it on. after a moment of consideration, she also takes off her shorts. the combination of tears and snot has already dried up, but it’s still there. she grabs a pair of black calvin klein boxers for axl to wear and trots to the bathroom. “well, so would i. david hasselhoff ain’t got nothing on my man.” she’s a little out of breath but there’s a dazzling smile on her lips as she places his folded boxers on the counter and sits down on the closed toilet lid. “that’s the only thing that matters, what you think of me,” she coos, carefully dipping her hand into the tub to see if the water hasn’t gone cold yet. but now that he’s brought this subject up, she wonders who really made her doubt herself and comes to the conclusion that it must have happened during her teenage years, in new york, while she was trying to be a model and her body and face were the main subject of every conversation. she wants to blame her mother for letting her go to auditions when she was still so young and impressionable, but it would be unfair — she begged her mother to take her to a modeling agency, there were crying spells and endless arguments about this. she eventually got her way. “that’s your own spit. you don’t mind exchanging spit and other bodily fluids with me, but you draw the line at spitting toothpaste into the tub?” she giggles because for some reason his line of thought is beyond amusing to her. “well? did you wash your peach and richard while i was gone like a good boy?” she playfully inquires, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing again.

“it definitely has to be.” according to how many ups and downs they have. “you’re the devil in disguise, oh yes you are,” he sings in a deep voice, playfully smiling then it turns into a sweeter one when she hugs his head. “boxers will work.” it’s more comfortable for him that way, some people prefer more clothes and some don’t to sleep in. he’s always been the latter. “yeah, i remember. cause it hurt more than anything. but i’m glad to know it wasn’t true after all.” since it made him feel like he had done a lot to make her hate him. “i didn’t give up on you, i thought it was the other way around and i couldn’t really blame you though.” “well, i don’t. i like those brunettes. you’re gorgeous too. it’s crazy how you don’t see why i think you’re the prettiest woman in the world. just crazy.” shaking his head, especially when he can’t believe he even got a wife as beautiful as her. “i would be if you were in it.” he replies, smiling cheekily. “i love you too. i don’t know who didn’t tell you that you weren’t beautiful growing up, but it’s really sad. you’re so beautiful and naturally beautiful. i know i’m not crazy on that.” crazy about a lot of things, but not this one. “no it wouldn’t, the paste would still be all in my water and that’s fuckin’ gross.” shaking his head, chuckling and squeezing the paste onto his toothbrush. “i’m good, babe. go ahead.” nodding, he starts brushing his teeth until a few minutes later when he’s finished that and spits it out into the trash can. places his toothbrush on the ledge then lies back, crossing his arms over his chest and rests his eyes for a second.

[durmstrange]

Blow Your Mind - Fred Weasley

Hello and welcome to another Fred Weasley fic!  This is inspired by Blow Your Mind by Dua Lipa.  Hope you enjoy!

Plot:  “enemies” to lovers trope (enemies in quotes because its more of a rivalry to lovers trope)

Word count: 2,208

In all honesty, you thought Fred Weasley was the most stubborn, annoying, and insufferable person you had ever met.  His cockiness, his blatant disrespect and disregard for rules, and his superior attitude drove you absolutely mad.  Ever since first year, when the two of you started fresh at Hogwarts, you couldn’t stand him.  From his initial prank on you, which was only a dung bomb released in the dormitory you shared with Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, his close friends, you could barely stand the mentioning of his name at times.  

Unfortunately, he was very much in your life.  Angelina and Alicia were your closest friends, and also good friend with him.  George Weasley was kind to you, typically only being an accomplice to Fred’s pranks on you, not the mastermind behind it all.  The relationship you had with Fred was rather complicated, as neither of you truly hated each other.  You weren’t exactly friends, either.  Rivals, at best.

You had thrown such a fit after his first prank that you soon became the target of his tricks then, as he found it so amusing when you were worked up. Over time, you began getting back at him.  It was rather elementary tricks you’d pull, like putting a bucket of creature droppings above his door, nabbing all his clothes from his dormitory, spare a too small sweater, and hanging them in the courtyards, or even sabotaging his pranks on others.  All through the years, you kept your revenge to yourself for the most part, and Fred was clueless as to who constantly tricked him in return, and typically pinned it on Lee or George, never suspecting you, as far as you were aware. 

During your fourth year, Fred began to prank you more than ever.  In fact, his pranks were getting more and more complex, earning the least bit of respect from you. One prank you’ll remember for the rest of your life was right after the Halloween feast.  You had stopped in the library for a moment, finishing up a final essay for the night.  Fred must have been following you, as when you finally left the library and headed towards the Gryffindor common room, you stepped on a tripwire, immediately making your blood run cold.  

Blue dye rained down from above you, coating your uniform, white shirt and all. You could hear Fred cackling from up the hall, but you were too busy wiping the dye from your face.  “Fred Weasley, I am going to end you!”  You took off down the hall after him, leaving a trail of dye down the corridor. 

For weeks after that, your hair remained a brilliant shade of blue, not fading until almost Christmastime.

Just a week or so later, Fred found his bed sheets, pillows, and blankets all strung up in the Astronomy Tower, flying in the wind like a flag for all of the students to see.  You could recall his fury as he blamed Peeves for this prank.

During your fifth year, you decided to step it up a notch after Fred’s constant pranks.  He had began creating his own prank devices, so his work was rather sporadic and creative than years prior.   

One morning, as you sat with Angelina and Alicia in the Great Hall, your fingers drummed against the table as you were lost in your thoughts.  There were thousands of possibilities flying around your mind as to what you could do to embarrass Fred in front of the entire school, but one particular idea stood out to you.  A small smirk formed on your lips as you settled on your plot.  

After a few moments, there was a small jab in your side, bringing you back to your friends.  “What’s that look for?”  Angelina asked hesitantly as she looked at you skeptically. 

You looked up, fighting the smirk that was forming on your lips.  “Oh, nothing.  Just thinking about the upcoming match,” you mumbled in response as you reached forward for a muffin from the large plate.  “Can’t wait to see what’s in store.”  Just as your hand reached the muffins, the entire plate jumped and the muffins exploded, sending bits of muffin all over your robes, your face, and in your hair.   A gasp left your lips as you flinched back.  Immediately, your voice roared through the Great Hall as the other students began to laugh.  “FRED!” 

Angelina and Alicia had bits of muffin on them, but nothing like the crust that covered you in your entirety.  A groan came from you as you wiped at your face.  “About time she quieted down.  I don’t know how the two of you can listen to (Y/N)’s mouth all of the time,” a smug voice spoke from in front of you.  Your eyes wandered up, spotting the red headed devil standing in front of you, across the table, with his arms crossed over his chest.  He was lucky he was out of your reach, or else you might of strangled him at that moment.  

The laughing in the Great Hall wouldn’t subside.  You, however, fought back the tears forming in your eyes.  “If you don’t like the way I talk, why am I on your mind then, Fred?  You’re always playing tricks on me, so you must like the way I say your name,” you replied cooly as you stood and brushed off your robes, but it was no use.  “Just wait until you see what’s coming.” 

“I’m so scared,” Fred taunted you as you stormed away from the table.  “Pathetic she won’t even fight back.”  His voice loomed in your ears as you shoved through the hall with your head held high, ignoring the other laughing students.

 ~.~

“I know that look,” Hermione said to you as you stood in the stands, your arms over your chest and a smirk remaining on your lips.  There was an unsure look on her face that only made you all the more proud of your work that was soon going to be shown.  “Harry said you borrowed his cloak last night.” 

You laughed gently, pushing your Gryffindor scarf over your shoulder.  “I did.  Was up half the night, actually,” you confirmed to her as Madam Hooch stepped out on the field, the wind about blowing her broom from her hand. The crowd cheered at the sight of her.  “Rather windy today, isn’t it?”  Your voice was smug as you smiled into the wind.

Hermione let out a soft breath and held a nervous look on her face.  The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams stepped out on the field, forming a circle before mounting their brooms.  The students roared at the teams, but you remained silent, your eyes on a single player.  “Watch Fred,” you instructed Hermione as you leaned your hands on the railing in front of you, a haughty look on your face. 

Hermione did as she was told, as did Ron, who listened in on the conversation. “Since when do you pull pranks?”  Ron asked aloud, but your eyes watched Fred as he ascended from the ground.  

“Always,” you answered shortly as the wind whipped at his cloak.  Just before Madam Hooch started the game, you watched your hard work shine. 

The faux layer of Fred’s cloak broke loose, as you had only tacked it in place with three stitches, revealing large pink letters across the real crimson red material, spelling out “(Y/N) IS THE PRANK QUEEN” on the entirety of his cloak.  Each letter was hand stitched in place, accounting for your lack of sleep, and making it nearly impossible for the lettering to come off in the wind.  The crowd erupted in laughter, the Gryffindor team joining in, at least those who could spot the words across the ginger’s back.

Madam Hooch started the game regardless of the distraction, and Fred realized the crowd was howling at him.  A confused look formed on his face as he glanced around, trying to figure out why, and after a quick visit from his twin brother on his broom, Fred twisted to spot the bit of pink writing he could see on his own back.  His eyes shot the crowd, spotting you in just a moment.  You had expected him to be furious, but there was an amused and incredibly happy look on his face.  You gave Fred a contentious wave and wink, earning a quick head shake from him before he took off, joining in the game.

Despite the distraction of Fred’s mainly pink cloak, Gryffindor won the match and a party ensued in the common room.  With a drink in your hand, you leaned against one of the desks and chatted quietly with a fourth year, who was praising you for your prank.  As the team entered the room, your smile turned to a smirk as the fourth year ran off to greet them all.

You remained back, allowing all the other students to greet the players, and waited for Fred to find you, because you were sure you were going to get an ear full. 

After about twenty minutes, the team dispersed into the crowd, finally able to break free from the congratulating.  You watched as Fred spotted you, a smirk coming onto his face.  You moved to sit on the desk, your feet swinging above the ground with a prideful smile on your lips.  “Well, do a spin for me!  Let me see my work,” you instructed him once he was close enough to hear you.  With your finger, you did a spinning motion, only making his smirk grow.  

Regardless of the hard feelings you shared in the past, Fred turned, allowing you to see your work on him.  “Prank Queen?” he asked incredulously as you giggled, covering your mouth and he turned to face you.  “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do before you earn that title, you know.”

You mocked being offended.  “What?  My years of pranking you means nothing?” 

Fred looked confused at your words.  His smirk faded as he came to terms with what you meant.  “You mean to tell me it was you?  The buckets, the bedding, the clothes, all of it?” 

Proudly, you nodded.  “Those and every unsolved prank in between,” you confirmed as you crossed your arms over your chest.  “I suppose I’m not so pathetic after all, am I?” 

For a moment, Fred was at a loss for words.  It wasn’t often that he got like this, but for this moment, looking at the person he hurt and tormented for the last four years, he couldn’t find the words to properly express how he was feeling.  “You’re bloody brilliant,” he finally stammered out, his face red at his own words. “I knew it!” 

A gentle blush formed on your face.  “Well, the games have only begun, Weasley,” you teased him as you reached forward, taking the edge of his cloak. “Listen, if you leave me with this for the night, I’ll remove the stitches and get the lettering off,” you told him and ran your finger along the Q in ‘QUEEN’.  

You released his cloak, looking up at Fred.  “I think I’ll keep it on, actually.  I’ve got a spare one I can wear for games,” he explained with a crooked smile.  

You laughed, shaking your head at him and swinging your legs once more.  “Whatever you say, Fred.”  You rolled your eyes and sipped your drink as he leaned against the desk next to you.  

“You were right, you know.”  Fred’s words lingered in the air, making you tilt your head to the side in confusion.  “I could listen to you say my name all day,” he murmured low enough for you to be the only to hear his words. 

His voice rumbled in your head as your face grew warm.  You held the cup to your lips to hide the smug smile on your lips.  “Are you coming on to me, Fred?”  Your own voice was low and sultry, and you waited his eyebrows raise. 

“Is it working?” 

For a split second, you weighed your options in your head.  Before you could process much of your own thought process, your words fell from your lips, “Rather well, actually.” 

Fred smiled, taking your chin in his hand and turning your face so that you had to look at him.  His large, calloused hand caressed your cheek as he caught your lips in a kiss.

From across the room, George leaned against the wall with his arm around Angelina, watching his twin kiss her dorm mate.  “Do you think she finally told him that it was her pranking him all these years?” 

George chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of Angelina’s head.  “He was starting to catch on, anyways,” George admitted with a faint smile.  “The last one, where she took all his cloaks and hung them on the suits of armor, they came back spelling of her perfume.”

Angelina snickered quietly.  “I’ve got to admit, that was my doing.  While (Y/N) had all his cloaks in our dorm, I sprayed a few of them in hopes that he would catch on.”

George raised his eyebrows, impressed with his girlfriend.  “Well, it was only a matter of time before they got together.”

-

durmstrange’s Taglist:  @starlightweasley​ @theweasleysredhair​ @whiz-bangs78​ @hufflepuffgirly​ @tonksichu​ @toomanybandstocare​​ @mentally-in-northern-italy​​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​​ @through-the-little-door​ @clandestinecherry​

Weasley Twins Taglist: @wand3ringr0s3​ @kpopgirlbtssvt​

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti: Friendship HCs

YES! YES! YES! You’re absolutely beautiful anon, I love friendship HCs. I have yet to get a Venti rq at the time of writing this [I actually have another one that came in yesterday (?) but that one is a bit special].

I wasn’t sure if you meant MC as in a reader or the actual MC [Aether and Lumine]. I still used “you” but if you meant Aether/Lumine just lmk.

Also, these few weeks might be a bit slower since I’ve got major assignment’s coming up.

---

Part 2:  Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

---

Venti: Friendship HCs

If you want this bard to do anything, just run at him with some slime condensate on your hands and he’ll scream bloody murder.  

He likes apples and lively places so whenever he has free time, which is almost all the time, he’s either dragging you to taverns or out to pick apples. If you mention that you needed to buy cheese he might look at you differently.

If you’re both under the Mondstadt tree and just hanging out he might sing you songs or new poems he’s heard. Some of them are old poems or one’s he’s created. Sometimes he’ll just play the lyre as you both listen to the wind rustle the tree’s leaves.

Venti has a rather mischievous attitude and is quite bold so if anyone is giving you a hard time he’ll slide in without fear and insult them. Is the type to stick his tongue out at the offender as he drags you somewhere else.

It sometimes freaks you out when Venti switches to his Wind Archon self and start’s spitting metaphor’s like he’s Shakespeare. But he’ll switch back into his Venti persona and it’s starting to feel like he’s doing it on purpose to make your head spin.

No matter what season or weather, Venti want’s to have fun. If it’s raining then it’s a competition to see who can make the biggest splash. If it’s snowing and too cold to go outside, Venti is going to element burst snow at your face. You should have dodged he says.

He will push you to make friends with Diluc just to feed his wine addiction, even though there’s no way Diluc would let you sample anything. He’ll push your towards Diluc in hopes you’ll distract him enough for Venti to sneak something out but so far it hasn’t worked.

If you ever need a boost to justtt grab that apple or even to reach a jar on the top shelf he’ll skyward sonnet you. Even as paper’s fly or you’ve hit your head he’ll just ehe his way out.

If Venti is taking a bit too many liberties, just threaten that you’ll get a pet cat. He’s allergic to them so he won’t be able to hang out with you but you’ll have a whiny bard yelling at you in public with no shame. It’s not like you would actually do that but it’s nice knowing he appreciates your company. Sadly cat’s seem to like him. You’ll have to pry him away from a tree and telling him that no, cat’s are not vile archon killing beasts.

If we were in modern times he would be the guy that pulls up to a ice-cream shop with kids in the back and order’s for himself only. Best way to avoid Venti stealing hands is to eat something with cheese.

It’s always hilarious when people think he’s underaged even though he’s older than Mondstadt itself. When he turns to you to prove that he is, in fact, of legal age to drink just turn away and pretend you don’t know who this green bard is. I don’t know him officer.  

He’ll make a big deal of you being his disciple and writing songs about you but if you turn him down he’ll get immediately sadden, which is a kick in the heart, and you’ll take it back.

He wants to roam free and experience the world. Now that Dvalin has been saved and Mondstadt has returned to its peaceful life, he insist he must join you in your adventure. He say’s it’s for bard purposes but he might just be a bit lonely.

If you ever mention you would to see someplace in the sky or to be able to fly, Venti will actually treat it quite seriously. If you’d like a feather from an eagle he’ll immediately get one for you. It’s a bit of a somber time with him when he hands it to you but he quickly covers it up.

If you want to learn the lyre he’s actually a good teacher when he want’s to be. Do what you love while you still can. Make the world a place you want to live in.

Then he’ll ruin the mood by asking you to braid his hair.

“You know Venti, your hair is actually really nice,” you commented as you folded blue strands of his hair over each other to create his signature braids. You were both under the huge tree next to the Statue of the Seven. It was one of Venti’s favourite places and it was peaceful. Only occasionally a researcher might stop by but either then that, it was just animals.

“You think so?” Venti asked as he opened one eye to look up at you. He was lying on his back with his head resting on your knee, quietly strumming his lyre. You weren’t sure what tune he was playing but it sounded familiar.

“Yeah, how your hair turns to blue at the tips. It’s a really nice colour. Were you born with hair like this? Is this some special Archon power that gives you colour bending hair?” you chucked at your joke as you tied the end of the braid. There all done.

“We could dye your hair!” Venti exclaimed as he shot upward almost hitting your forehead if you didn’t dodge out of the way. Whenever you’re with Venti you always end up with friendly fire, maybe you’re developing a Venti reflex? Venti looked at you and you could almost see the excitement rushing to his brain

“Um, how?” you asked, you weren’t aware there were ways to dye your hair in Mondstadt. The most you could get was food, flowers, and materials. Maybe you could craft dye?

“Hmm...” Venti thought for a bit, the excitement that had been rushing to his brain started to simmer down. He shrugged in his happy-go-luck manner, “Well, we’ll figure it out! You know Liyue is a lot bigger than Mondstadt, maybe we can find something there?”

“Venti. I’m not letting you play mad scientist with my hair,” you deadpanned, the last time you let Venti “experiment” was with food and your stomach is still crying from that. This would either work or you’ll end up with all your hair burned off if his cooking skills were anything to go off by.

“Aww come on. Don’t you want to be colourful too? Oh, maybe we should make your hair a rainbow wouldn’t that be a sight, come on let’s take a trip to Liyue,” he laughed as he dusted himself off before offering a hand for you to take.

“Won’t you miss Mondstadt?” you took his hand as he pulled you up. He crossed his arms, giving an overexaggerated thinking face.

“Hmm maybe a little bit but I’ve been watching Mondstadt ever since I became an Archon. It doesn’t hurt to venture out and explore. Fly over new heights and see thing’s we’ve never seen before. At least while we still have the freedom to.” Venti smiled softly as his eye’s seemed to be staring at something far away, or maybe he was looking back?  

"Venti...” you started, before quickly taking the end of that sentence back. Venti doesn’t really talk about the past and you didn’t want to ruin the earlier mood, “Alright. Let’s go. No time like the present.”

“Oh, we should take the scenic route. I’ve heard Liyue is especially pretty this time of year. You think Liyue has any good wine? Maybe I can finally stop getting mistaken as a child or-”

You sighed as he kept rambling as you dusted the grass from your clothes. As much as tried to keep a calm face you could feel excitement building in your chest. You grinned as you clenched your hands still and ran past him cutting off his sentence.

“Come on Venti! If you’re too slow I’ll leave you behind!”

“Wha- Hey! That’s not fair! Time out! Time out!”

[aikoiya]

Thanks!

I was I was just looking over a post of mine when I came across something that I think is perfect for the Don, or at least, for the world in which he lives. See, I thought about a game thing that Purah could make. She'd basically use Zonaite to build something of a Zonaite Keg, (or specifically, Zonaite Keg Rings, so the alcohol can still get the benefit of the barrel's wood) which would use runes to tap into time magic (possibly with Sonia & Zelda's help; due to being an inventor, I could even see her having been the one to come up with the idea & she could've worked together with Purah & Mineru to build it). My thoughts are, it'd work based on the use of a sort of Accelerate spell or rune, which would be sort of like a reverse Recall. This would allow them to speed up the brewing process for booze.

But, even though the keg speeds up the process, it'd still take a couple days to make the booze. However, it would definitely help Rauru to maintain his grip on things & would very much turn a profit.

I'd also like to imagine that though Rauru is still himself, his mob could symbolize the Friendly-Neighborhood Gangster tv trope (which, TV Tropes is a great source of idea material when you have a vibe for what you want, but don’t know exactly how to get it) but played from a more morally gray angle. Like, yes, he's trying to be a good man, but he sometimes has to do things dirty to clean house. (Which, I'm not sure makes sense, but ya know.)

Like, he's not evil, but he just generally thinks that this prohibition idea is absolutely ridiculous.

Perhaps, to emulate that when, in game, he came to Hyrule to help the warring tribes to stop warring, a lot of the major races could be their own sort of gang that now, because they're at peace, it’s sort of made Hyrule a lot safer. Of course, there's still problems, but it's a lot better than it was. As in, there aren't anymore drive-bys or gang wars or anything like that.

Also, giving him a slight Spanish accent would be amazing &, based on the fact that the Zonai are so Mesoamerican-coded, I tend to hc them having a duality-type view on masculinity based on the IRL concepts of Machismo & Caballerismo. And possibly femininity as well, though I haven't found a good basic for that sort.

Like this:

I sort of imagine him as, if a Mexican Cartel leader lost everything, went clean, came to a new city/country, & took over a mafia there to try & stop the mob violence there because he can’t take it anymore. Not because he wanted to keep doing it, but because it's all he's ever known & these other gangs wouldn’t listen to him unless he played ball their way. So, if nothing else, he’s legitimately trying to change things for the better so that, hopefully one day, he might be able to end the gang life altogether in Hyrule. Which may well be Don Dragmire’s entire reason behind hating him.

And, it'd also give you the chance to explore different types of organized crime culture. The Sheikah could represent the Yakuza, for instance.

I also just thought that maybe the Yiga could be Don Dragmire's… I forget the word… Turncoats inside of Hyrule? His spies? But yeah, my thoughts are that they’re part of the Sheikah still, but are double agents for Don Dragmire & that they are how he’s able to smuggle his booze into Hyrule.

Of course, I don’t mean this to say that everyone is part of some gang, but that a lot of the major players are.

Another idea I had is that Rhoam could be the Mayor or Governor or some such in Hyrule here since we’re only using kings & queens metaphorically.

As for the design inside his suit jacket, I'd simply go with vibrantly-colored, flame-like Gerudàn patterned lining. Maybe note how the vivid dyes are Gerudo-made. I'd also think about giving the outside of the suit gold-stitched accents in the shapes of those Gerudo flower patterns we see.

Here:

There's actually this spider in real life called a Golden Orb Weaver that makes golden thread (not literal gold, but gold-colored). They appear to live in sand dune shrublands, so somewhere in the western Faron Grassland plains & possibly a bit in the Gerudo Canyon.

And, I'm thinking that the patterns for the outside of the suit would be empty. So, just the gold outlines. And it should be sparing because too much & it looks like he's trying too hard. Ya, get me?

So, something like this:

But with the patterns I showed you. Though, I'm thinking keep the swirly vines, hmm?

I'm also thinking the shirt underneath could be that dark red color with an imperial collar. No tie. And the hem of TotK Gan's haori has this interesting design to it. It's sort of a dark gray with a swirly-doo pattern to it. I think that could also work for the folds & cuffs or at least they should be considered.

This:

Hmm... Still needs work. I'm not partial to the gap there at the apex of the peaks between swirls...

In the end, yes, the Gerudo endure much hardship from their environment, but they are also a race of vanity & luxury in spite of that hardship, which I think very much fits Ganondorf just as a person.

Which I also wanna bring up desert agriculture & my frustration with how Nintendo hasn't given us examples of ways that desert societies can actually grow certain things out there so long as they have a reliable source of water! Which, by TotK's present, they do! Ergo, they should have a pretty descent agricultural district.

Or, they did sort of touch on the idea with Dalia in BotW, but then they did nothing with it!!

Like, give me hydroponic farms in Gerudo Town proper! (Because fuck me if they don't keep that aqueduct aesthetic. Even in a 1920s L.A. Noir setting with Egyptian styling.) Give me the strawgrid method & air wells & dew collectors in Kara Kara! Give me Gerudo Vai taking up a plow & getting dirty! I wanna see Kara Kara Bazaar grow into a full market town of commerce in the middle of a grand oasis that they put blood, sweat, & tears into!

Give me men from farming towns being abducted for the purposes of putting them to work in the fields, as well as in the bedchambers! Give me slowly, steadily beginning to de-desertify the area around them & extend the oasis!

List of shiz that can grow in da desert:

Like, seriously! These dudes should have wheatfields & vineyards! But they don't & that's frustrating!! Because they could be every bit as powerful as Hyrule! They could be freaking Egypt or Mesopotamia or any number of powerful Middle Eastern empires, but they aren't because *shrug* "desert barren," I guess.

Sorry, got into one of my rants there. I'm back now.

But, yes, I have a bunch of ideas involving Ganondorf's possible illicit crimes ranging from the sex industry that revolves around the Surré Qasrehsen (Pleasure Palaces), Vo'màzren (concubini, plural of concubinus, otherwise known as male concubines), specifically Hra'tàkdham Vo'màzren (free-use concubini) & the selling of Vo'màzren to high-ranking Gerudo for their harems, Vōshadē (male prostitutes, can either have chosen the job, been coerced, or are there due to being indentured to the Gerudo, meaning that they are working off a debt by signing away their rights as fathers), Vàsitulïxan (dominatrixes paid specifically to break in & train male concubines via domination), the 3 Vaen (hermaphrodites blessed by the Spring of Talthïrï, which I took some inspiration from Greek myth for) who I imagine here all being required to become Vaesitulïxan (hermaphrodite dominatrixes), production & illicit use of Mútakïla, & other similar things.

What Do You Think Of This?

Don Ganondorf "Demon King" Dragmire is the leader of the Monsters, a mob filled with many dangerous criminals and various outcasts. He is also the "King" of the Gerudo people, meaning he is of the royal bloodline long since diminished, but still a symbol to respect amongst the Gerudo people. He resides in the land of Hyrule, his mafia based in the Gerudo desert and various places in Hyrule, trying to build his way up to controlling the land through his mafia. "King" Rauru Zonai, the Don and Reigning leader of the Hyrule lands, and "Queen" Sonia Zonai, Rauru's wife, are his rivals. This takes place in a more modern era of Hyrule, with technology of the 1920's.

Already working on personality, abilities, and appearances on him... Gunna be a fun bot <3

[woodelf68]

Lessons Learned And Praise Well Earned

@lokijiro prompted: "Frigga regularly reads books to her tiny sons. One day, she realises that Loki can read, even though she hasn’t really started teaching him yet." Loki is around the equivalent of 3 years old here, and let's say Thor is somewhere between 5 and 6. Word count: 5918

----------

Odin eyed his eldest son. Thor was not usually one to dawdle over meals, but he was quite clearly dawdling now. Since he wasn't putting any more food on his plate, Odin assumed Thor was done with his breakfast, but instead of saying anything he was just sitting there quietly, fiddling with his spoon, as if he didn't want to call attention to himself.

"If you're finished eating, Thor," Odin said, not ungently, but very much aware of the time, "I will walk you down to your tutor." It was not far; they had set up an unused room at the opposite end of the family wing as Thor's new classroom, but Odin wished to personally introduce Thor to Master Egilson and see his son settled in before descending to the lower levels of the palace and beginning his own day's work.

Thor sighed and put his spoon down with a clank and pushed his chair back. He wasn't sure how he felt about starting formal lessons with a tutor. On the one hand, it meant he was growing up and was one step closer to being able to train as a warrior, on the other hand, he wanted to go outside and play as he usually did every morning instead of going to sit in a stuffy old room learning...well, whatever it was that he was going to be learning. He had been trying to take a cautious wait and see attitude towards it all, except every time he looked at his little brother, Loki looked so forlorn at being forced to stay behind in the nursery that Thor felt horribly like he was deserting his brother.

"I'm ready," he said resignedly, standing up without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

Odin got to his feet as well and clasped a reassuring hand on Thor's shoulder. "It's all right to be nervous on your first day," he said. "But I'm sure you'll do well."

"It's not that," said Thor. "It's just that Loki -- "

As if one cue, Loki jumped up from his place at the table, his own breakfast nearly untouched in his unhappiness. "Are you sure I can't come too?" he pleaded, looking at his father. "I'll be good; I wouldn't cause any trouble."

"Oh no, sweetheart." Frigga rose and stepped up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "You're too young. But we'll have fun while Thor's gone, I promise, and it's only for a half day. He'll be back for lunchtime and then you can have the rest of the afternoon to play before dinner."

"But it's not only a half day," protested Loki. "It's a half day every day." He could feel the tears starting to gather on his eyes and his lower lip trembled. "For... forever ."

Odin's lip twitched. "Not quite." He didn't mention that Thor's half days would at some point become full days of lessons, because he could see that Loki was quite distressed enough already. "Yes, your schooling will go on until you grow up, for there are a great many things that you will need to learn as princes of this realm. But you will be able to join Thor in his studies long before that, and then it won't seem so bad, eh? But for now you have your own very important job to do, right here."

"I do?"

"Mm-hm." A few steps took him from Thor's side to Loki, and he bent and reached down, Loki immediately lifting his arms in response. Odin picked him up and settled him on his hip, looking Loki in the eyes. "I know you're going to miss Thor, but your mother was telling me just this morning how glad she was that she would still have you to keep her company while Thor went off to his lessons. And I was glad too, for I don't like to think of your mother being sad and lonely any more than I want you to be."

"Oh." Loki twisted around and looked back at his mother.

"It's true," Frigga confirmed. "I've been looking forward to the chance to spend some time alone with just you, the way I did with Thor before you were born."

"Oh," said Loki again, his brow furrowing. He hadn't thought that his mother might miss Thor, too. "So my job is to keep Mama company? So she's not lonely?"

"It is. Can I rely on you to do that?"

Loki nodded. He didn't want to think of his mother being sad, either. "Yes, Papa."

"That's my good boy," Odin said approvingly, and kissed him before handing him off into Frigga's waiting arms. "Now, Thor." He held out his hand, and Thor slipped his own smaller one into it without hesitation. "Let's not keep your tutor waiting."

Thor took a deep breath, but he did feel a little better about leaving Loki now. He squared his shoulders. "All right. I’ll see you later, Loki.”

"’Bye." Loki gave a tiny wave.

"Have a good day, my son."  Frigga went over and pressed a kiss to the top of Thor's head. "Loki and I will come and get you at lunchtime; stay with your tutor until then."

“I can walk back to the nursery on my own.”

“But we might not be in the nursery. And besides, I wish to speak to your tutor this first day and I think Loki might enjoy seeing your classroom.”

“Oh. Very well.”

Frigga waited until Thor had followed his father out of the room before turning and surveying the remains of Loki's breakfast with a frown. "Hey." She jiggled him gently. "Do you think you can eat a little more of your breakfast now? And then when you're finished, we can go down to the garden."

And Loki, his throat feeling less tight than it had earlier, found that he could.

----------

Outside, without Thor to pull him away into whatever game he wanted to play, Loki stayed close by Frigga's side, following her around as she tended to the plants, a subdued and quiet little shadow. She didn't bother trying to draw him out, figuring that would come naturally after Thor returned from his lessons in the afternoon; instead she filled the silence by telling him the names of all the herbs and flowers, and what they were good for -- cooking and medicines and scenting things, teas and potions and dyes. When he roused enough to express interest in the last, she gathered enough material to make up a small dye pot, bundling it with a length of twine and placing it in her basket, figuring she would let him help dye some raw wool and then spin it into yarn for him to play with, a special project just for the two of them while Thor was at his lessons. After that, her clever little son proved he had been paying attention to what she was doing when he began pointing out spent blossoms for her to snip off with her pruning shears, his lower vantage point making it easy for him to spot all those that were closer to the ground.

“Thank you, my darling,” Frigga praised as she bent to snip another dead flower head off, tracing back its stem to where a new bud was forming and making the cut above that. Loki beamed and circled around the shrub, easily navigating the tight space that would have caught at her skirts.

“Here!”

There were three crumbly brown flower heads grouped closely together, half-hidden at the back of the shrub. As soon as Frigga had snipped them off, Loki moved to the next bush, his sharp eyes seeking out browned or drooping flowers, and Frigga had to hasten on, what was usually a leisurely stroll for her turning into an attempt to keep up with Loki’s pointing finger and expectant face as he embraced the hunt like a new game.

“Where next, Mama?” Loki asked as they reached the end of the next row, ready to scamper on ahead.

“Hold, wait a minute,” Frigga said, straightening up and stretching, her back beginning to ache from repeatedly bending over. She thought how much simpler it would be to simply let him snip the dead heads off himself. He was a careful child, far more so than Thor had been at his age, and she thought he might be able to handle a pair of pruning shears safely without hurting himself, at least on the easier to trim plants -- nothing thorny, or that had thicker, woody branches. “Loki, if I could find or have made a smaller pair of shears that would fit your hand, would you like your own pair so you can trim off the flower heads yourself?”

Loki’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“I’ll see if I can find some, then. You’ve been a very good helper to me this morning. What say we do that area under the trees and then go back inside and you can pick out some books for me to read to you?”

Loki turned and skipped backwards in front of her. “When will I get my shears?”

Frigga laughed and dropped her own into the pocket of the apron she wore to protect her clothes. “I’m not sure; I’ll ask the head gardener if they can know where I could get any small enough for you, but I really think the smith might need to make them special. Perhaps in two or three days; it depends on how busy they are. Here, turn around and watch where you’re going; I don’t want you to trip.”

It was cool and pleasant in the shade of the trees after being in the warm, bright sun, but by the time they got back to the nursery, Frigga was ready to pour herself and Loki glasses of the cold lemonade that she had sent for,  and then settle herself in the comfortably cushioned window seat, a light breeze blowing in fresh around them. Loki scrambled up to sit beside her with the selection of books he had chosen and leaned into her side, looking at the pages of the picture books as she began to read. When she noticed it was time to go pick up Thor, Loki jumped down and made for the beautifully carved wooden door leading into the corridor, bouncing impatiently on his heels as she put away the books.

“Come on, Mama,” he said impatiently, and Frigga smiled as she pushed the door open and took his hand in her own.

“There, it was not so bad spending the morning with just me, was it?” She swung their arms together as they walked towards Thor’s classroom.

“No,” Loki admitted. “It was nice. Did I keep you from being sad?”

“You did indeed, my darling. Thank you.” She saw the door at the end of the hall had been propped open and released Loki’s hand, pointing. “Go on.”

Loki ran ahead and into the room, his eyes quickly finding his brother already standing next to a small desk and talking to a pleasant-looking young man. “Thor!” He threw himself at his brother.

A wide grin split Thor’s face as he caught his brother up and lifted him briefly from his feet in an exuberant hug. “Loki! I missed you!” Lowering him back down, Thor put his hands on Loki’s shoulders and turned him towards his teacher, beaming with delight. “Master Egilson, this is my brother Loki.”

“Hello, Prince Loki,” the tutor said with a smile. “Your brother has been telling me a lot about you.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. According to Thor, you’re the best little brother in the entire kingdom.”

Loki flushed with pleasure.

“What about me?” asked Frigga from the doorway, smiling. “Did I rate a mention?”

Master Egilson turned and bowed respectfully to her. “You did indeed, your Majesty.” He picked up a paper covered in Thor’s blocky writing from his own, larger desk and read from it. “ My mother is the queen and she is very beautiful and very kind. Everybody loves her .”

Frigga felt her own cheeks pinken. “Oh. Well, what else have you been doing all morning besides saying flattering things about your family, Thor?”

“We did reading and writing and numbers and Master Egilson told me the story about how Asgard was created.”

“I can write,” Loki informed the tutor.

“Can you?” Master Egilson smiled and fetched a clean slate, laying it on Thor’s desk along with a piece of chalk. “Do you want to show me?”

“You don’t have to -- “ Frigga began.

The tutor shook his head. “Nonsense, I would be pleased to see the skills of a future student.”

Loki climbed up onto the chair, kneeling on the seat, and picked up the chalk. The tutor wasn’t surprised to see him begin to write his name -- it was the first thing most children learned -- but instead of scrawling “Loki” in large runes over the whole of the slate, they were unexpectedly small, and neat. He saw why as Loki started a second tidy row underneath them, hesitating briefly over the cross stroke of the nauthiz rune before angling it in the correct direction and finishing up. Loki Odinson , the slate read. The youngest prince glanced up at the tutor expectantly.

“Very good,” Master Egilson said warmly, and meant it. “Your parents must be proud of you.”

“We are,” Frigga assured him, and held out her hand towards Loki. He scrambled down from the chair, looking pleased with himself, and took her hand.

“Can we go now?” asked Thor. “I’m hungry.”

“We may, and lunch should be waiting for us as soon as you wash up. Master Egilson, may I have Thor’s paper to keep?”

“Of course.” The tutor handed her Thor’s writing practice sheet, smiling and tousling Thor’s hair as he took his place at his mother’s other side. “You have good boys; Norns willing, I look forward to many years of teaching them.”

“They say mothers are prejudiced, but I quite agree with you. I couldn't wish for any better.” Frigga smiled down at her sons. “Good day, Master Egilson. Come on, boys.”

Thor chattered animatedly all through lunch, telling them all about his lessons and what he had learned of his tutor. Master Egilson had an older sister, and a young nephew and a niece on the way. His parents were bakers. He, Thor, liked him very much. After they were done eating, Frigga took up a basket of needlework and led her sons outside to the wide lawn, where Thor immediately took off running, calling to Loki to chase him. Loki shot off after him, and Frigga simply sat watching them for a while as they ran about yelling, Loki’s screams of delight just as loud as his brother’s every time that Thor turned and chased after him, Thor deliberately keeping just behind his brother for a while before speeding up and swooping Loki up in a hug that tumbled them both to the ground. When Thor had burnt off the worst of his pent-up energy from the morning, he began practicing his latest accomplishment, setting his hands to the ground and kicking his legs up into the air in a handstand, managing a few wobbly steps forwards before toppling back to the ground. Loki, of course, tried to imitate him, and Thor ceased his own efforts to help, holding Loki’s legs straight up while Loki walked forwards on his hands. Frigga heard him cheer Loki on and felt as if her heart would burst with love for both boys.

“I see the princes are in high spirits today,” a voice said from behind her.

Frigga turned and saw the Lady Gná, and smiled, gesturing to the place on the bench beside her. Lady Gná sat down gracefully.

“They are; they were kept apart from each other for the entirety of three hours this morning while Thor had his first lessons with a tutor and are still rejoicing in their reunion.”

Lady Gná laughed. “How did the lessons go?”

“Quite well, I think. Both the tutor and Thor seemed cheerful enough when I collected Thor. And I think Loki will benefit from having some time where my attention isn’t split between the two of them every day.”

“Mm.” Gná took out her own needlework from a bag hanging at her waist. “I dare say you might enjoy the break, too, or am I wrong? Meaning no disrespect, but your Thor is a boisterous one.”

Frigga laughed and finally took out her own project, although her eyes rarely left the boys for long. “You’re not wrong. Loki was such a blessing in more ways than one; I can’t imagine the handful Thor would be if he didn’t have a brother to play with. It at least gives me a chance to sit down occasionally and just keep an eye on them.” She took a few stitches in her embroidery and smiled in reminiscence. “No one was happier than Thor when Loki started walking -- and I’m sure Loki learned as early as he did because he wanted to keep up with his big brother.” She glanced up again and grinned. “And now look at them.” Both boys were, briefly, upside down at the same time, legs waving in the air.

Lady Gná laughed. “Truly we have a pair of ambitious and talented princes. Who amongst us can say we sought to learn to walk on our hands once we had mastered doing so on our feet?”

Frigga chuckled, and then gave a small exclamation as Loki overbalanced and thumped down hard onto his butt, knocking Thor over as he did so. Nonplussed, the boys righted themselves and looked towards her.

Loki ran over. “Mama, Mama, did you see me? I was standing upside down on my own!”

“I did indeed; we were both very impressed.” She ruffled his black hair. “You remember Lady Gná, don’t you? Sif’s mother?”

Thor made his best bow. “My lady.”

Loki looked around, as if to make sure the aforementioned girl wasn’t here. “Sif bit me,” he said accusingly.

Lady Gná sighed. The last time she had brought her little hellion over to play with the princes had not ended well. “I haven’t forgotten, Loki, and I am sorry. We are trying to teach her better manners, I promise you.”

“See that you do,” he said sternly, and it was so obviously a phrase that he had picked up from his father that both adults had to smother a laugh. Loki leaned against his mother’s legs, suddenly tired now that he had stopped moving.

Frigga smoothed a hand over his curls. “Ready for your nap, sweetheart?” With the disruption in their usual schedule, she’d been waiting to see when and if he looked like he needed one.

Loki frowned. He usually had a nap after lunch, but he also had usually had the whole morning to play with Thor.

“Here,” said Lady Gná briskly, rising and putting her needlework away. “Why don’t you just lie down on the bench and lay your head in your mother’s lap? Close your eyes for a few minutes and if you don’t feel sleepy, then you can get up and start playing again. I shall take a bit more of a walk while Sif is down for her own nap.”

Frigga looked up at her friend gratefully. “Thank you, Gná, and tell Sif hello from me. Come on, Loki, that sounds like a fair suggestion, doesn’t it?” She patted the space beside her, and after a moment, he climbed up and settled himself as suggested.

“Just for a few minutes,” he said.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Thor promised, and went in search of a stick with which to practise sword moves. Frigga began to sing softly, and her youngest was asleep in her lap before she’d finished the last verse of the song.

The days fell into a routine. In the mornings, Frigga enjoyed her time spent alone with Loki, working in the gardens or reading to him or pursuing any other paths his interests went down. He had his own specially-made gardening shears now, sized to fit his small hands, and was careful never to put them away dirty. And she’d shown him how to dye wool, and how to make a simple braid from the yarn she’d spun from it, and he had yet to grow tired of wearing the yellowy-green bracelet he’d made from it. In the afternoons the boys played together, and Loki would take a short nap, and then after dinner, they would usually spend some time at the child-sized table in the nursery where the drawing paper and other art supplies were kept, although Thor was now also using it to do small assignments for his tutor on occasion. Frigga often saw their fair and dark heads bent close together, but one night when she came over to see what they were doing, Loki quickly pulled a blank piece of paper over whatever it was he had been working on, and Thor straightened back up in his chair, a list of vocabulary words in front of him.

“Are you making a surprise picture for me?” she guessed.

“Yes,” said Loki, and looked at her expectantly until she took the hint and left them to it. She did get a picture later that night, but she couldn't see why he would have been hiding it; it was fairly similar to his usual offerings, though no less cherished and saved for that. But since whatever was absorbing her boys' interest was giving her an hour or so of peace and quiet every evening, she was perfectly willing to leave them to it.

----------

"Always be polite to a bilgesnipe, there’s really no call to be rude; Always be polite to a bilgesnipe, and he might not decide that you’re food!"

Frigga gave a little "rawr!" in Loki's ear as she read to him from one of his favourite picture books -- the words and pictures silly enough to delight a small child while still conveying the importance of good manners -- and he giggled from his position in her lap, where he was curled up quite happily. A few weeks into Thor’s new schedule of morning lessons, Loki now sent him off quite cheerfully in the mornings, seeming to enjoy the time alone with Frigga as much as she did, seeing her little boy open up about all the things he was interested in now that he didn’t have to wait for a chance to be heard amidst Thor’s chatter. And he obviously relished being able to choose more than one book everyday for storytime, more than content to sit still and listen long after Thor would have gotten restless and begun interrupting with commentary or jumping up to enact out exciting portions of the stories that he’d chosen.

Frigga turned the page and kept reading until she got to her favourite set of pages in the entire book, the illustrations showing a larger boy boosting a smaller one up so that he could reach the plums hanging from a low tree branch. What made the pictures especially endearing to her was the fact that Thor, years ago, had very carefully coloured in the smaller boy's hair -- originally fair like his own -- so that it matched the black of his new little brother's.

"Always be nice to your brother, remember to say 'thank you' and 'please', and if you are nice to your brother, he'll help you pluck fruit from the trees!"

"'Might help'" corrected Loki, pointing at the page. "You left out a word."

Frigga looked at him in surprise. His finger had hovered directly above the word "might".

"You're right," she said. "So I did." Thoughtfully, she turned the page. "Can you read this one?" she asked.

He could, not perfectly, hesitating on some of the bigger words, but he was undoubtedly reading. Frigga hugged him tightly when he had finished reading the rest of the book, Frigga helping out whenever he stumbled on a word. "I am so proud of you! When did you -- "  Yes, he had been pointing at and asking about some of the words in the books lately, but -- “Oh! You and Thor, in the evenings! Has he been helping you with reading?”

Loki nodded. “The more I learn now, the less I’ll have to catch up on when I start lessons. So Thor and I can study together.” His chin jutted out with determination, and Frigga’s heart melted as she hugged him again, already planning to do the same to Thor as soon as she saw him next. It was the walking all over again, Loki not wanting to be left behind, and Thor doing everything that he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Well, you have made a very good start of it, and now that I know you’re ready to learn to read, I’ll help you with it every day, too.” Her eyes sparkled. "Shall we practice a bit, and surprise your father tonight?"

Loki's face lit up with pleasure at the thought. "Yes, please."

----------

“Papa!”

“Papa!”

Two small bodies ran at Odin as he entered the family quarters and collided with his legs. He leaned down to hug his sons, the cares of the day slipping from his shoulders in the face of the boys’ happiness in seeing him. It was always one of the best parts of his day.

“Hello, boys. Did you have a good day?” He straightened up and ran a smoothing hand over each boy’s hair.

“Yes, Papa,” they chorused.

Odin looked at them closely, Their smiles seemed even brighter than usual, a certain simmering of excitement under the surface suggesting that they had something to tell him. “Well, let me freshen up and you can tell me all about it at dinner.”

However, once they were all gathered around the table in their private dining room and tucking into a delicious meal, Odin began to wonder if he’d been mistaken when nothing unusual was mentioned when they shared what they’d been doing during the day. That is, until the boys finished eating ahead of everyone else and didn’t ask to be excused, merely sitting and waiting and watching him. Odin took his time enjoying his dessert, once more sure that something was going on as Loki began to fidget in his chair. But it wasn’t until he leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh that Loki looked at his mother hopefully.

“Now, Mama?”

Frigga smiled. "Yes, now."

Loki jumped down from his chair. "Would you like me to read you a story, Papa?" he asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Don't you mean you want me to read you one?" Odin asked.

“No, I’m going to read it to you,” Loki said firmly.

“Ah, very well, then,” Odin said indulgently, thinking that Loki was simply going to recite it as best as he could from memory; Norns knew he was pretty sure he had the entirety of some of the boys’ most favoured books stuck in his own head. “Shall we adjourn to the nursery, then?” He got up and Thor immediately jumped up as well, Frigga rising more gracefully with one of her cryptic smiles on her face and taking his arm when he offered it.

“Papa, does “adjourn” simply mean “to go”?” Thor asked. He knew its general meaning from what Master Egilson called the context of a sentence, but he was learning to pay more attention to the specific meanings of words.

“It means, in this case, that we are moving from one place to another. It can also be used to indicate the stopping of a meeting to be resumed later, for instance “the meeting is adjourned until after lunch”.”

“That’s how Master Egilson used it the other day,” said Thor thoughtfully. “He said classes were adjourned till the morrow.” He liked the sound of the word; it sounded grown-up and important.

Odin nodded, Loki ducking under his arm as he pushed open the heavy door into the hallway and dashing ahead to wait impatiently by the nursery door. “That is a correct usage. Go see if you can help your brother.” He watched as Thor and Loki both put their hands to the nursery door and leaned in, managing to push it open between the two of them. Loki ran to get his book and Odin went to sit down in his usual chair facing the hearth, Frigga taking the other. Thor plopped down on the rug in between them and picked up one of the three dimensional puzzles from the basket on the hearth, fiddling with it.

Loki came back with his book and Odin took it, setting it down next to him before leaning over to help lift Loki up onto his lap. Loki squirmed around for a moment until he was tucked comfortably in the crook of Odin’s arm and held out his hands.

“Ready.”

Odin gave the book to him and Loki opened it and began to read. And Odin’s eye widened as he realised that Loki was indeed reading it, no doubt helped by the familiarity of the verses, but not missing a single word on any of the pages. Occasionally he paused, but never for long, and Odin looked from the book to the expression of concentration on Loki’s face to Frigga, whose cryptic smile had given way to one beaming with pride. Even Thor, sitting at his feet and listening, grinned up at Odin when Loki finished the book in triumph.

"Loki can read!" Thor announced needlessly. "Did he surprise you?"

"He did indeed." He looked back down at Loki, who was gazing up at him expectantly. "That was very well done, Loki; I am most impressed. I didn't even know that your mother had started teaching you to read yet."

"I hadn't," said Frigga dryly. "He partly picked it up all by himself, just following along when I read and asking the occasional question -- and partly because Thor has been helping him ever since he started his own lessons, because Loki doesn’t want to waste any time catching up once he’s allowed to join him.”

Odin looked from one son to another in amazement. Mine, he thought with a fierce surge of pride. My boys. He spared a second to think scornfully of Laufey, and what a fool he had been to so casually throw away the great gift he had been given in Loki. His now, though, and he would make sure that Loki’s intellect and talents were nurtured instead of wasted.

“I am so proud of both of you,” he said warmly. “You, Thor, for helping your brother, and you, Loki, for learning to read so early!  My clever, clever boy." Giving him an extra tight squeeze, Odin kissed the top of Loki's head and saw the tips of Loki’s ears redden in shy pleasure at the praise, but he was grinning as he gave a little wriggle of delight in Odin’s lap. Odin decided to tease him a little. "Does this mean that you won't need me to read you any more stories now, though?"

"No! I like it when you read them to me too," Loki hastily assured him.

Odin’s eye twinkled. "Very well then. Why don't you pick out another one and I'll read it to you and Thor this time."

"I'll get one!" Thor jumped up and raced over to the low bookshelves that held their books. "Is this one all right, Brother?" He pulled one out and held it up for Loki to see.

Loki nodded, too content with his position in his father's lap to get down and pick out another. He drew his legs up and turned so he could lay his head against his father’s chest, Odin’s arm tightening around him and holding him secure. Thor came back and offered the book he’d chosen to his father and leaned comfortably against the side of his chair, folding his arms atop the chair’s leather-padded arm and resting his chin atop them.

“I Want To Be A Warrior,” Odin read. The book’s cover showed a young boy looking up at a man clad in the armour of the Einherjar. The book spoke of what it meant to be a warrior, to swear oneself to the defense of the kingdom, and went on to describe all the things a boy training to be a warrior would learn as they grew to manhood. Thor had already memorised what all the different pieces of armour and the different types of weapons were called with all of the single-minded focus that a young child could turn on something that they were deeply interested in.

“I want to be a warrior,” Odin read. “I want to serve my realm, and my king. I will fight to protect my home, and my people.”

“I must be strong ,” recited Thor. “I must be brave."  His eyes were bright with fervour.

Glancing at him, Odin had no trouble imagining his son grown tall, clad in bright armour and with a sword sheathed at his side. Thor listened with rapt attention and an occasional interjection, and Odin had reached the unlabeled illustrations near the end of the book which allowed a boy to test his memory before he wondered if he should have been involving Loki more in the reading of this book. He glanced down at his son, but Loki looked contented enough snuggled against him, his head resting right over Odin’s heart and a sleepy half smile on his face. A soft smile touched Odin’s face in return as he remembered learning that trick, that an unhappy baby could be soothed by the sound of their parent’s heart, recalling all the times he had half-dozed off himself in the nursery with a sleeping babe sprawled atop his chest, afraid to move lest he wake them before he could return them to their cradle or cot. Loki especially had seemed to crave that close contact even more than Thor had, and Odin had often wondered darkly in those early days how long Loki had lain there alone in that temple before he had found him, before Loki had learned the sound of his father's heartbeat and that it meant comfort and safety and no longer being alone, even before he had learned the sound of his mother's. It still filled Odin with satisfaction that even now, with Loki happy and flush with accomplishment and the success of his surprise, that his son obviously found comfort in the sound, in his presence. He rubbed Loki’s back gently; he would miss it when his boys were no longer small enough to hold entirely within the safety of his own arms.

“Papa, turn,” Thor prompted, when he realised his father had become distracted.

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” Odin turned the page and Thor touched the illustration of a sword, moving his finger along it as he named the parts of it.

“Pommel, hilt, crossguard, tang, blade,” Thor rattled off, no doubt dreaming of the day when he would have a real sword of his own.

“Very good,” said Odin, and briefly ran his hand over Thor's silky hair as Thor moved on to enthusiastically list all the various types of polearms shown on the facing page. Glancing up, he saw Frigga watching them with the same deep contentment in her eyes that he could feel in his heart. No doubt one day both their sons would be fine, strong warriors. But for now, he liked them exactly the way they were.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Somehow Technoblade had managed the spectacular achievement of becoming the odd one out in an entire community made up of rare and strange beings.

The fact that all the other residents were non-humans happened to be what made him different though. Wilbur had told him the history of the commune, how their town was founded with the direct purpose of being a safe place for mobs and hybrids to live in peace, secluded from the humans who hunted them, enslaved them, or would otherwise harm them. Their location was kept secret, hidden from most by enchantments, and they were almost completely self-sufficient in the way they were run in terms of food and stuff.

Only occasionally would somebody wander out to another village, to trade or just to seek a little adventure for themselves. Phil especially was prone to do this – a traveler at heart, his Elytrian nature – and he was the one who had found Technoblade in a rather... compromising position.

If by compromising you could mean having an arrow sticking out your back.

People didn't like Technoblade. And Technoblade generally didn't like people, but he liked it even less when they chased him out of their villages with their bows drawn. Phil had been kind enough to remove the projectile. Technoblade had bravely said it didn't hurt but then secretly dug his blunt nails into the palms of his hands hard enough to leave white indents. Then Phil had insisted on taking him home to get a proper look at the wound and clean it up.

Not all of the other residents were thrilled with Technoblade's presence at first, scared it could compromise their location. A lot of their tunes had changed when they found out other humans were the cause of his injury, even more so when Techno revealed this was hardly an isolated incident. People didn't like Technoblade at all.

(Most humans had little tolerance for that which they did not understand. And according to them, Technoblade was weird and very hard to understand. Techno understood himself perfectly fine, he always thought they were the weird ones.)

So he stayed and overall things worked out great. There were only minor issues caused by the 'only human around' thing. Their pub was a good example. A few of the others in the commune could simply fly or teleport, and those that couldn't had no problems either since they could rely on inhuman stamina to make the climb tolerable. Techno had a hundred rungs of a ladder he needed to brave with his pitiful human physique if he wanted to get up there. Same thing for Phil's ridiculously high-up birdhouse.

And then one day he got sick.

It was probably his own fault. Last night when it was storming he'd been coming home from mining and gotten completely soaked out in the rain. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he should probably take his drenched clothes off and get warm and comfortable as soon as he got home – the voice sounded suspiciously like Phil when he lectured Techno about fixing his terrible sleeping schedule and eating more regularly. But he had gotten distracted by putting away the materials he'd mined into his chests and starting to smelt the ore and by the time he noticed he was shivering at how cold it was, his clothes were damp more than wet. He lighted the fire and felt too exhausted to bother getting changed, crawling under the covers as he was - though it didn't completely ward away further trembling.

When he woke up his head hurt and there was this annoying tickle in his chest, feather-light touches against his lungs. The clothes had become sticky and uncomfortable, peeling off his skin. Techno coughed into a fist and set out as normal, intent on resuming his tasks where he left off yesterday.

It would probably go away on its own.

Except the coughing didn't stop. Small bursts of it kept coming up when he needed them least. He was in the middle of one when a voice rang out behind him.

"Techno, are you okay dude?" He must have jumped a solid three feet into the air and for a moment Wilbur only chuckled at his reaction.

"I told you to stop doing that," Techno grumbled, a little too sharply. Just because Wilbur could literally appear out of nowhere didn't mean he had to use that ability to sneak up on him for no reason. Techno coughed again, hiding it in his elbow.

"You did," Wilbur acknowledged with a smirk, but didn't apologize. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look I'm doing, I'm headed to the mines." Techno swung his pickaxe up on his shoulder, kind of almost nearly dropping it in the process with how clumsy his hands were being. Stupid.

"It looks like you were hacking up a lung, really." Wilbur's features softened. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Techno responded. He started walking again, knowing Wilbur would have a hard time following him while in corporeal form. Especially in the daytime.

"Are you coming to the pub later? I've got some new plans to unveil, think they'll be sick." Wilbur did make a valiant attempt at following him, though he quickly started falling behind, floating inches above the ground and unable to keep up with Techno's human strides.

"Uh, I'll think about it?" Techno answered evasively. He wasn't looking forward to braving that ladder in his current state. His arms hurt just thinking about it.

Wilbur stopped to call after him. "What do you mean you'll think about it?"

But Techno was far enough gone to be able to pretend not to hear him as he descended down his mineshaft.

Techno liked Niki's hair a lot. He'd even told her so not long after meeting her.

It was long and wavy and a nice shade of pastel pink that reminded him of the sunset. Technoblade would consider growing out his own hair that long if he didn't know it was way too unruly to keep in shape and stay untangled. And if dyeing it wasn't such a chore – one he knew he'd be too lazy to undertake as regularly as he should – he might have dyed it from its boring brown shade into something more interesting.

Niki was glad he was keeping her company while she tended to it, combing through it with what he presumed was a comb made of a seashell. Techno didn't tell her he had only really left the mines early because his lungs were starting to strain from the dust down there, the coughing fits getting closer together with less time in between to let him breathe. He sat on the sandy shore and traced patterns into the sand with one finger while they talked.

Niki was telling him about her builds, and expressing her disappointment over how she couldn't easily show them to her friends. None of them could breathe underwater or deal with the pressure common at the depths Niki lived. But she loved describing them in detail.

She was just explaining the sea glass she was intending to use when Technoblade started coughing again. His lungs expressed their displeasure through a series of sharp pangs that shot up into his neck. The sound he made was wet and disgusting, like there was something liquid rattling around inside his chest. Niki stopped talking to look at him worriedly.

"Are you alright? Techno, what happened?"

He tried to wave her away but it was kind of hard with his body still intent on making it impossible for him to get oxygen. Techno closed his eyes against the blurriness of his vision to concentrate on inhaling slower instead. "M'fine." He could feel the phlegm in his throat.

Niki was pulling herself onto the beach a little, trying to get a closer look at him. "Are you sick?"

"No." Getting up so fast was a bad idea. His head spun and he felt incredibly shaky. Techno ignored it. "No, I'm not. It's fine. I think I'll just head home now."

He started walking away quickly. The afternoon sun felt unbearable suddenly, scorching. Or maybe that was the beginning of a fever.

Niki called after him to wait but confined to the water as she was, it wasn't like she could do anything to stop him. Technoblade walked until he crested the hill, already seeing the shape of the other buildings in the distance. He made it halfway through the grass field and then he felt too drained to continue. Deciding to sit down for a bit, he lay back and closed his eyes.

"Do you think he's dead?"

"I dunno, we should poke him with a stick to find out."

Techno groaned at the sound of loud voices, ringing painfully around his aching head. He cracked his eyes open – not sure when he had even fallen asleep - and tried to blink the three faces hovering above him into focus.

"Oh, I think he's alive. Kind of." That was Ranboo.

"We could still poke him, just to make sure." Tommy.

Which meant the third person had to be Tubbo.

Techno pushed up on his elbows to get into a seated position, hating how difficult it was. His limbs were weak, as if they were made of jelly or some shit. The light fever had escalated into him feeling like his entire body was on fire.

This was not good.

"-chno? Hey, anybody home?" Tubbo was talking to him, waving one hand in front of his face. If his frown was any indication, Techno had been spacing out for a while.

"Hm?" he asked.

"I think there's something wrong with him," Tubbo said to the others.

"I'm fine." Techno tried standing up but fell back onto his ass a moment later when dizziness plowed into him with the force of a boulder. Tommy snorted.

"Yeah, we can tell." He reached out but pulled his hand back as soon as it came into contact with Techno's skin. "Fuck you're almost the same temperature as Jack Manifold. Pretty sure humans aren't supposed to run that hot."

"I'll get Phil," Ranboo offered, teleporting before Techno had a chance to object.

He covered his face with his hands and sighed. This was going to be a thing now and that happened to be the exact opposite of what Technoblade wanted it to be. He just wanted to go home and sleep this off.

"You're not..." Tubbo broke through his thoughts. The boy hesitated, wings vibrating a bit with nervous energy. "You're not like... actually dying are you?"

Techno tried to answer but was interrupted by another coughing fit first. When he was done Tubbo looked even more anxious than before. "Probably not. It's just a cold."

It was definitely not a simple cold. Pneumonia, more likely.

"Oh good."

Techno agreed. Not dying would probably be good, even if he currently felt like death warmed over.

Philza took him to the pub, much to Technoblade's horror.

All his protests and insistence he'd be fine if he was just taken to his house were brushed off easily, especially when Phil took flight with Techno barely able to keep from falling off his back when dark spots took over his vision. If it weren't for Phil's supporting hands keeping him steady he's probably have fallen off.

Normally Techno didn't dislike flying with Phil – despite the other always making some quip about how little Techno weighed for his height. But this time the vertigo was horrible and made him want to puke. Maybe it was fortunate he had skipped breakfast this morning.

They landed on the wooden porch softly, Phil keeping Techno's arm around his shoulder as he put him down to make sure he wouldn't collapse. Techno wasn't about to admit he probably needed that, though he muttered a quick thanks under his breath, which was starting to get more wheezing by the minute. There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't ache.

There were a few beds in the backrooms of the pub, sometimes used for newcomers to temporarily reside. Techno found himself dumped into one, not really caring where Phil went when he left the room. Not when the sheets were so blessedly cool and comfortable. He could have probably fallen back asleep soon if Phil hadn't returned almost instantly.

"I checked with Sneeg, he said this should help a little." Phil sat down on the bed, holding up a cup with the nastiest-looking brown tea inside it Technoblade ever did see. "I'm sorry we don't have any real potions to give you, but he's closest to you in physiology, so I'm hoping this will be enough. We don't exactly have a lot of experience with human illness."

"Did you ask him if it was poisonous?" Techno asked, eyeing the steaming liquid.

"Don't be dramatic." Phil handed him the cup. Techno sighed and downed the herbal tea in one go, suppressing his gag reflex. Medicinal and earthy, it somehow tasted worse than it looked. He didn't think that was possible.

"Great, can I go home now?"

Phil shook his head as he got up again, taking the cup from him. "You're not going anywhere until your fever breaks. You think I flew you all the way up here for fun?"

"Possibly."

Rolling his eyes as he leaves the room, Phil once again came back only a moment later. This time he was holding a bowl of what Techno could only presume was water going by the cloth that was soaking in it. Phil gestured for him to lie down properly and this time Techno obeyed without complaint.

"I think it's best if you stay here for a while," he said while folding the cloth and putting it on Techno's forehead. The coldness of it did feel nice against his pounding headache. "The pub is the best place for us to take turns keeping an eye on you."

"I don't need you guys to keep an eye on me, though. I'm not a child."

"No, you're just a stubborn asshole with pneumonia." Phil drew back a bit, smile faltering. "And also the only human currently living in the commune. We don't have the needed supplies to treat you should this get worse, so I'd rather not take the risk."

And while he did a fair job hiding it, it was undeniably clear Phil was worried.

"Fine, I'll stay." Techno made an effort of showing how annoyed he was by huffing and pulling the blankets over himself. "But can you at least get me a book or something? Won't help much keeping me here if I'll be bored to death."

Phil laughed – light and teasing. Techno liked that a lot more than he did the worry.

"I'll see what I can do."

He spent a solid week in bed.

Much to Phil's relief, Techno's sickness did not get worse. But without proper medicine, it didn't improve as quickly as they would have liked either. He had to get better the old-fashioned way: waiting for his body to fight off the infection on its own.

Most of his time was spent sleeping. Whenever he woke up somebody else was at his bedside, to make sure he could eat and drink. Phil hadn't been kidding when he said they'd take turns. It was almost comforting to know there was always someone watching over him while he slept, though Techno didn't feel the need to say that out loud.

After that first week, he was recovered enough to at least limp out of his room and around the pub. He was too weak to attempt the ladder and any sudden moves were still likely to throw him into a coughing fit that could last several minutes. But he could sit at one of the tables and talk to Niki when she visited.

Or to the others, who all seemed to be coming by a lot more often than was usual.

Wilbur unveiled his plans and talked Techno's ear off about what he was working on. Fundy came all the way to the pub to try and sell him stolen trinkets. Ranboo was always coming around with some new book for him to read, asking him if he liked his previous recommendation.

(None of them visited as often as Tommy though, who always complained about having to be there while fluffing up his wings, yet always stuck around the longest even when Techno told him he'd be fine on his own.)

And with them around, Techno realized that despite being the only human, he had never felt less alone.

[theawkwardterrier]

27 + 14 and dealers choice for the drabble meme :D

neither are you free to desist

Prompt: Seeing each other for the first time in a while/“Well geez, if you don’t like what I’m wearing, I can go and change.”

Summary: Undercover work wears more than expected.

She has already been there for hours, watching the square below from behind the gauzy curtain, before he finally arrives, exactly when she expected him. His head is bent a bit against the dreary drizzle, the collar of his jacket up, that same worn-out one he’s had for too many years and refuses to get rid of.

Although she does not close her eyes, Peggy can picture him ducking into the lobby, taking the stairs two at a time, walking down the hallway. She’s timed it to perfection; she knows she will hear the sound of the key sliding into the lock the second before she does.

Steve closes the door behind himself and bolts it again before turning to see her sitting in the armchair by the window, only the gray light from outside illuminating her.

With the pistol in her hand, she gestures for him to strip.

Voice low, he says, “Well geez, if you don’t like what I’m wearing, I can go and change.” The attempted humor of his comment is practically lost in the rustling as he removes his clothes, just as he had wanted it to be. She’s already placed the bag Stark provided just by the door. It is a bit of a tight fit for him to add his items to it on top of hers, but it will be worth it; their trackers are already being fed inaccurate data, and now the bag will ensure that any bugs they might have accidentally been carrying will simply pick up a loop of ambient noise. 

She takes a moment to admire him as he pulls on a new pair of jeans and the plain black sweater waiting for him. Recalling him in the privacy of her mind over these last months is nothing to the reality of him in front of her, the tease of his pale skin disappearing beneath the dark material, those light freckles whose placement she’s memorized, the settled grace of his movements as he takes a seat at the table.

Standing, she moves to sit opposite him, placing her gun on the tabletop. She always keeps it close now. Usually it is just in case. Sometimes it has not been.

The two of them reach out at the same moment so that she can cover his fingers with hers. It is nearly painful to pull away, to stop herself from savoring the contact - after all this time, someone good and gentle, whose goodness she can count on, someone who loves her, who knows her.

But they have business first.

“What have you found?” she asks, and at least that is some relief, hearing her own voice stripped of the husky New York accent she’s had to use for so long now. Sometimes she talks like that in her dreams and wakes with her lungs heavy and heart trembling.

When he begins to fill her in, he leans forward, keeps his words quiet despite the precautions they’ve taken. Everything is precaution these days. They’ve been able to reach out occasionally since she went under, information drops and burner phones carefully coordinated, but nothing like this. She once relied without thought on being able to listen to him speak at length, having the chance to ask him questions and immediately hear the answers, getting the whole picture. One day she hopes to be able to rely on it again.

If they’re right, that day might even be soon.

Their story has never been easy or conventional. It was unusual for two operatives in the Organization to be allowed not only to fall in love but to actually get married. The official word was that it was permitted because their work rarely intersected; that was true enough, but it was more truthful to say that they were two of the best and no one wanted to lose them.

As soon as Steve and Peggy had come to understand the rot which was creeping in all around them, they lost them anyway. Very few had been allowed to realize it yet. Steve still arrives for work on time every day, after all, only walks past formerly trusted colleagues who he knows to be dirty instead of reporting them. Peggy’s death had been extremely well-faked, her cover airtight as she integrated herself into the group which had been infiltrating for so long right beneath their noses.

She has been extremely effective at it. They knew that she would be, just as they knew that Steve would not have been able to manage it. Instead, he’s been invaluable at gathering information and subtly fighting back from within the Organization where possible. She knew parts of his success even before he had the chance to tell her all that he’s found.

She listens to him closely, committing it all to memory, but a part of her mind is focused on the hardness which he hears beneath his words. She wonders whether it was something she had not remembered, or if it was new. She had thought that she might come back to him as a stranger. Somehow she had not wondered if he might become so.

When it is her turn, she speaks for even longer than he did. His eyes do not leave her face the entire time, even through the worst of it, when she cannot pretend that the things she is speaking of happened to someone else, that she wasn’t there as a witness, or sometimes more. And despite the ways he is different from her memory of him, his regard of her is somehow unchanged. She does not feel judged. She already feels the strain of returning to a world without that gaze of his, which sees her so clearly and refuses to allow her to escape her own value in its light.

After she has finished too, they determine their next steps and she can feel how close they are, how soon they might end this all at last, just as she knows how much still depends on her, that she will have to leave this place and return to being someone else once again. And then there is no more to say. She wonders if she should shake his hand, congratulate him, say something bolstering before he has to go.

He speaks instead. “I miss you,” he tells her. “Our home is too empty without you in it.”

She would never have thought it would be anything that she would doubt. He loves her and she knows it as surely as she knows the ground beneath her feet. But still, to hear it, sweet and simple fact, after all these months of doubting everything, of having only her own hands to rely on and no safe place but her own mind, and even of beginning to doubt that...Pressing herself into his arms, reaching up and kissing him is instinct, one she thought left too far behind.

But she hasn’t, because she knows the soft strength of him when he holds her, remembers the feeling of his body stretched lean and solid against hers. Here is the taste of him against her mouth, and there is the tiny, three-stitch patch of raised flesh her fingers unthinkingly find on his back, and now the frantic, lovely pulse of his heart, beating its way toward hers.

The apartment has a bed, a twin with a metal frame. She had noted it when she arrived without even being conscious of doing so; it’s what her brain does now, seeks out weapons and escape routes and potential traps. She had never thought to use the bed for any more conventional purpose, but she is standing here and so is her husband and they will need to leave each other again soon.

His hands remember her just as easily as hers do him.

Afterward, they are glad for the small space as they hold each other close. His fingers seem to want to touch each strand as he runs them through her hair. He does not comment about the choppy cut or the dye job she has been renewing herself, the contact lenses she has not removed the entire time; these are not the things he recognizes about her, anyway.

“I miss you as well. So very much,” she says against his throat, and just the words are danger. When you let yourself realize that you are tired, the race is half lost, and there is still too much left to go.

But he does not admonish her for it, does not pull away and leave her without his warmth. “Then let’s finish it,” he says instead, “so we can come back to each other.”

Their time together is running short. There is more difficult work, more terrible work, to be done before they can meet again. But it’s important to gather strength for that, too, and so she allows herself the chance to close her eyes and rest against him and truly sleep, just for this brief now.

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch4: Drooling in Majolish

Find previous chapters HERE! Sorry for posting this one late. Hectic week! This chapter had was a way to show off how the triplets get along and for the OM! characters to learn about them. Things happening in between ***** are meant to show that it is happening at the same time as the rest of the story. People blankly watching as idiots do their thing.

Warnings: None. Just swearing this chapter. Lemony goodness will happen, just gotta build those relationships yo! n_<

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After 2 more classes, Lena and Leviathan met with the twins on their way to lunch. Of course they had to make haste in order to keep up after Beelzebub. He was excited for whatever was on special, or so he said. Satan clarified that he was excited for anything he could eat.

“Even the atrocious slop Solomon ‘cooks up’?” Lena asked. Immediately the three brothers at her side laughed. So it wasn’t just with the Devildom ingredients. ‘To be fair, Sol’s always had servants prepare his meals. Being this independent is a first for him…”

Just as they entered the cafeteria, Lena was able to spot the rest of the people she'd met in the Devildom, along with her brothers, and Solomon.

“Well, speak of the Devil…-contracting imp!” she chuckled. She returned a wave to him and approached the giant table they were congregating around. Before she could get a word out, Azri intercepted his sister.

“Le, who did you hair?” there was a serious look on the towering nephilim's face. There was over a foot and a half height distance between the two of them. “Oh, Asmo did it! He did a great job. And he braided it the night before so I had no tangles…”

Azri gave a sigh of relief and continued to examine her. The rest of the table and a few passers-by observed the siblings. “Dude, will you stop!? People are staring and you are embarrassing me…” Lena said with gritted teeth.

“Oh ignore them Le, I am just looking at this uniform of yours. It does suit you well...though this material is, well, a choice. And the color of the shirt...I don’t get what we’re going for. A Totalitarian....Spring? I just can’t! At least this shade of green brings out our eye color.”

“And I’m about to bring out your eyes with my fork if you don’t sit the fuck down and eat lunch!” The female nephilim took her seat between Lilly and Asmodeus, who wrapped his arm around her as a welcome. They and everyone else were taken aback by her threatening words except for Zak and Solomon who were chuckling as they began to eat.

Zak finally spoke, “Don’t take Lena so seriously guys. She’d have done that without warning if she was really pissed.”

“Yes, you should have seen her back in ancient Rome…”

“Don’t talk about Rome Sol!” Lena warned. “Seriously, you guys live to embarrass me don’t you? No! Don’t even answer.”

Azriel took a seat across the table from Asmodeus. Zak was to his left, and Mammon to his right. He had most of his classes with Lilly, Mammon, Asmo, and Satan. There were also the angels who were now joining the table.

“Asmo, you did a wonderful job managing Lena’s hair. It can be quite unruly for the untrained...and for her. Can you continue the upkeep since we aren’t staying together?” he really was the worrisome mother hen of the triplets.

The Avatar of Lust gave a sly smile and nodded, “Of course! It’s nice to finally have someone with long hair to play with. And she is quite the patient customer at salon de Asmo.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here…” Lena reminded them, “Though I am really grateful to you for helping me. Nephilim hair grows back within 10 minutes of cutting it. And all dye is temporary. We have cursed locks I swear!”

The rest of lunch was full of banter. Mammon and Satan got into it again over the book that was stolen and pawned. Asmo, Azri, and Lilly discussed fashion. Lena chimed-in every now and then, but had moved to see what Leviathan was playing. She ate half of her food and gave the rest over to the bottomless pit that was Beel. Lastly. Zak was talking to Simeon, Luke, Solomon, and Satan. He was a huge history buff and wanted to know things about both the Celestial Realm and the Devildom.

Before they all split up again for the day, a meeting place and invite for everyone was made. Lena decided to show pictures of her attic room to Azri so he might faint, just to spite him for that earlier embarrassment. Zak was interested in learning about the cool hang-outs and to get in on some Devildom poker and street racing. Of course Mammon had all of the information he wanted for that. Lilly made the demon agree not to go without her, their chaperone after the shopping ended.

~

When their last classes ended, Mammon flew down the hall to meet Asmo, Lena, and Leviathan. Lilly was left in the dust, trying to catch up to him.

“We need to hurry guys!” He exclaimed.

His brothers didn’t budge. “You’re trying to hurry off to collect your check from Hell’s kitchen so you can spend it before Satan takes it. LAME!” Leviathan called him out, hitting the nail on the head with his older brother.

“Dude, that’s really cold. To your own brother!” Lena shook her head, feigning deep disappointment.

“Ah, I dun wanna hear that from someone who threatened her sibling’s eye removal at the lunch table…” he narrowed his bright eyes at the short nephilim.

“I’d say touche, but he did provoke me…” was her only response. She wasn’t sure if they should go on ahead, or meet outside of RAD like they’d agreed.

Lilly frogged Mammon’s arm when she caught up to the small group. “Thanks for taking off on me you ass!” He barely felt anything from the tiny human, but was annoyed nonetheless. “Hey!”

“Let’s just go towards the meeting location,” Asmo said with a slightly annoyed tone, “If you wanna take off, then go. Just don’t involve us. If Satan asks, then I’m going to tell him what you’re scheming.”

Leviathan nodded, “Yeah, it’d be the wrong route choice siding with you over Satan.” They didn’t want the Avatar of Wrath on their case.

Mammon sighed and then decided to bolt anyways.

The small group went ahead to the meeting spot. Everyone was there, save for Lucifer, from the House of Lamentation. Satan had anticipated that Mammon would try an escape. Azri, Zak, and the rest of Purgatory Hall arrived shortly, and they all left together.

~

When they arrived at Majolish, a couple employees instantly greeted them and rushed to Asmodeus. They were all blushes and giggles while Asmo proceeded to charm them over and talk about his recent collaborations.

Lena and Lilly both ran over to the shoes. “A girl after my own heart!” The human shouted. They were both major shoe collectors. And, what was even better, the two learned they had the same size. “We can swap!” Lena insisted.

“You know what, I’m not gonna say ‘no’. Normally I wouldn’t want to risk it for the biscuit when it comes to borrowing expensive things...but shoooooeeeessssss!” Lilly squinted.

Azriel stood in the center of the store, with an index finger drawn to his face to indicate how deep in thought he was. He was observing all the textiles the store carried. He noted the locations of all accessories, the jewelry, the perfume. He looked intense, like a predator about to strike.

Then he instantly rushed to Lena’s side and told her to grab 4 specific pairs of shoes. Great, she was about to be dragged around. Mammon had been sulking in the entry way, watching everyone else happily shop. Seeing two of the nephilim start racking-up items made his eyes widen slightly. “Look at em go…”

*****

He was half talking to a sleepy Belphegor that didn’t feel like browsing, and Leviathan who was waiting to get to the crane game he’d mentioned to Lena. They both looked over to the siblings. Lena was becoming a walking stack of clothes.

“Weird……” Belphegor mumbled.

Lilly joined them, unable to keep up with what was happening. “It’s not weird...it’s cute.” since they didn’t have parents and Lucifer was hypercritical most of the time, it made sense that the brothers wouldn’t understand the way Azri was taking care of his sister, wanting her to look perfect. Which, in Lilly’s opinion, was unnecessary since Lena was stunning already.

“Yes, he is taking care of his little sister the way you and Beel take care of each other.” Simeon joined in their conversation. “Though it seems like he’s a little too involved.”

“LOL. He’s literally smothering her...with clothes!’ Leviathan laughed. “It looks like he's about to lose the game of Tetris he’s made out of her stack of clothes.”

“Did you guys notice it though…?” Lilly asked, “Lena is only a bit taller than me...and yeah I know she’s curvier than me, but look at how easily she’s managing.” They all nodded. So this was a tiny bit of her power on display.

*****

Zak had picked a couple of things out for himself, talking to Beel, Luke, and Solomon. When he caught his siblings in the corner of his eye, he let out a huge sigh, “Excuse me for a moment guys. Looks like I need to intervene.” He left his stuff at a counter with his new friends.

“Hey Azri, you’re going nuts with the clothes…” he called to his brother. It was no use though. Azriel was possessed by all things fashion. He wanted to know how things felt. The durability and the way they folded. What sewing techniques they used!

Taking half of Lena’s stack so they could actually see her face again, Zak cleared his throat loudly. He was trying to stay calm and civilized. It didn’t help that Lena was in a zombie-like state with the dumbest grin he’d ever seen. Was that drool?!

“Well I’m certain that’s a first!” Asmodeus appeared out of nowhere, “Someone is actually drooling in Majolish after my line of clothes!” Of course that boosted his ego even further. “You look so cute Lena Darling!” He quickly went to take her stuff for her.

“NO! She needs to try that on.” Azri came out of his fashion trance to stop Asmo, before continuing on enchanting cotton, latex, leather, velvet is gross, real silk.

Zack quickly put the stack he’d grabbed from his sister onto the counter at the checkout and returned to his deranged siblings. “OI, Azri! You are not wasting everyone’s time by making Lena try all of this stuff on. It’s not like this is our only day to shop!”

“B-But the Mary-janes, the stilettos with the skulls...batty boots! Zak, they have batty boots!” Lena whined. Zak was embarrassed, rolling his eyes as he took his sister’s hand.

He led her over to sit by Mammon. “Guys. Watch her for a moment. Do NOT let her wonder off.” There were a few nods.

Zak went back to Azri and Asmodeus, telling the demon to add the stuff he was holding to the pile at the checkout. It was no exaggeration that Azri and Lena picked one of every single thing out in Majolish. And this was their first store. They hadn’t actually bought any amenities for their rooms. And that was the only goal of their trip. “AZRIEL VAN HELSING!” he shouted.

Azri snapped out of it, “Oh my. What do you need Zak?” he looked as if he had no idea where he was. After looking around for a moment, he sighed, “I went over board-”

“You went overboard.” -_-

“I’m so sorry.” he scratched his head sheepishly, then bowed to the Majolish employees standing around dumbfoundedly by what was happening, and to his new companions who were just enjoying the show. “Let’s hurry and pay for this. Lena needs sheets and curtains and a proper dresser…” He was already starting to chant items to buy at the next store without knowing where it was.

*****

Mammon’s eyes widened so much, Belphegor had to ask what had him so shocked. “D-D-Did you just see...they have a Black Royal card!!!”

“What?! OMFD!” Leviathan responded equally as shocked. Of course Lilly didn’t know what that meant at all.

Simeon chuckled softly and volunteered to explain, “A Black Royal card is the only thing that trumps Mammon’s Goldie..er gold card. It’s so rare that I believe only Lord Diavolo and possibly Lucifer has one. If he does have one, I’d imagine he never uses it on account of being extremely frugal compared to these two.” He referred, of course, to Mammon and Leviathan.

Those two brothers had the biggest track records for blowing lots of cash on nonsense. The third worst was Beelzebub with food costs being outrageous. His saving grace is going to places that offer free meals for completing eating challenges. They were starting to pop up less frequently thanks to the parfait incident when the carnival came to town.

“Oh I see. Yeah, Lena told me that the Van Helsing family was loaded. They are, after all, the princes and princess of Solitva.”

“A p-p-princess?” Leviathan gasped, “She came from another world against her will to live with demon lords...this is just like that manga I told you about!”

“Ya know what, Levi, you’ve actually got a point with this one!” Lilly laughed. Lena had actually made the same remark when she was talking to her about it.

They watch in awe as the triplets paid for all of the clothes, with a promise to return soon. Zak lectured Azri, since he was the one in charge of family finances. “Ya know it’s pretty bad when I become the voice of reason!” His arms were loaded with bags. So were Azri’s, Lena’s, Solomon’s, Simeon’s, Lilly’s, and even Luke’s.

“I don’t know how we’re gonna even make it to the next store…”Lena sighed, feeling tons of regret.

“I’d carry it all back for you sis, but you know Azri will go nuts if I leave…” Zak said with a sigh.

Solomon gave his signature smile at the siblings. The smile that stopped them both in their tracks. Clearly the genius sorcerer had a solution and was waiting for them to ask.

“Okay Sol, spill the beans…” Lena said, taking the bait.

Beel perked up, “Beans? Where?” It bummed the redheaded hungry machine to learn from Lilly that it was just a figure of speech which caused Leviathan and Asmodeus to laugh.

“I have the perfect people for the job so you can continue your shopping trip..” In a flash, Solomon summoned 6 lesser demons he clearly had a contract with. “They will take your stuff to The House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall for you…”

“HEY! Why don’t ya ever do that for any of us!?” Mammon complained. Asmo and Levi agreed since they were also avid shopaholics, ‘Yeah why not lend us some helpers?”

Azri handed his bags over and took the ones Luke and Simeon had and gave them to one of the lesser demons. Nonchalantly, he answered the brothers, “Probably because he doesn’t owe any of you an eternal debt of gratitude…” He flipped his long, flowing hair as he glanced at himself in the windows of Majolish, “And I do mean that.”

Solomon didn’t give a reaction; ever the poker-player. Asmo, on the other hand, had a good idea about that debt. It involved Rome, a certain female nephilim, tigers, and a huge fire. He grinned mischievously at Lena, but received a pair of sky blue eyes glaring back. They told him not to say a word, and he would keep his promise not to.

~

After the shopping bags were no-longer a burden on anyone, the large group finished the day of spending by getting all of their bedroom furnishings and extra amenities. Azri went into another designer-obsessed mania trip while Lena floated around in her zombie state. Zak chased his lunatic siblings about, but they ended everything on a high note.

“And you were all worried about them!” Lilly said to Belphegor as they all spectated the scene, “I see no difference between them and you guys getting into silly situations…”

Belphegor could see it. And after spending some classes with them, began to lift some of his suspension for the time being. He also wasn’t salty with Lena any longer for getting his Attic hang-out. She described the dorms at Belmont Academy, their supernatural school, that she shared a room with 4 others for years. He couldn’t imagine sharing a room with any of his other brothers besides Beel.

The group agreed that their next stop was going to be Hell’s Kitchen. Satan called ahead so they could reserve a large seating area and to warn them that Beelzebub was on his way. His excitement was so apparent that it spread over to Lena. She was a bit of a foodie herself.

The two of them seemed to rush ahead of the group. Beel was smiling, listing off all the menu items to her, recommending everything basically. Her mouth was watering after the weird-as-well-you-know ingredients she was about to devour.

Mammon was in third, after them, with an angry Satan on his heels. It was obvious that he planned to rush in, collect his check, then slip out during their meal to A. avoid paying for his own meal and B. void paying Satan his whole check for the dick move he pulled by selling his brother’s tome.

Too bad he picked the wrong one to screw over. The intellect; the crafty one; the avatar of WRATH! Was not someone that easily forgot who did him wrong. Not only did he see through his older brother’s schemes, he was going after him to make sure he did get his check and to directly hand it over to him. “MAMMMOOOOOOON!”

[whump-it]

It's OK; Callum and Rory

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70   @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @slaintetowhump @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure

I'm back baby! And look who's back with me! It's Callum and Rory!

CWs for this. Rescued whumpee, recovering, reliance on stuffed teddy, past conditioning.

Callum lay flat on his back, legs straight and arms neatly down either side, pressing against himself.  His teddy was tucked in next to him and that felt ok.  He supposed that it must be because Rory kept telling him that he could take his teddy with him here.  That it was safe.

That it was ok.

Rory said that it was ok to pretty much everything.

The room was dark and Callum blinked into it, missing the light of the singular bulb that had illuminated his entire world for three years.  The ever- present list of rules was missing from this room that Rory said was his.  It was so very different to his basement.  He shut his eyes and breathed deeply in and out a few times, nudging one arm out from his side just enough to feel his teddy.  When he opened them again, he sat up.  The blanket fell from his torso and puddled around his waist.  It was ok because Rory said so.  Master Hayden must know that he was here or he wouldn't be here.  He chewed on the skin of the inside of his bottom lip and jiggled his toes before reaching back to touch his teddy.

Still there.  

Hands still free to touch it.  But how strange to be able to just do that wherever he wanted to. 

It was ok.  It had to be.

A gentle tap on the door made him freeze where he was sat, one hand behind him on his teddy, the other in his lap.  He never lied.  Never ever lied because that was wrong and ungrateful and he knew better than that.  So when he had told Rory thank you for the bed and for the blankets he had meant it, no matter how alien they felt to him.  Another little knock sounded and the door handle moved, spurring him into action.  As quickly and as quietly as he could, he lay back down and tucked the teddy beneath the covers on his left hand side.

The door opened slowly and Rory peered around it.

"Hey," he said, smiling at Callum.  "I thought you might appreciate this."  Stepping into the room, he held up a hot water bottle which he put down on the very bottom of the bed.  "I'll just, you know, it's there.  If or, yeah.  It's... there."

"Thank you," Callum whispered before clearing his throat to make sure that his thank yous would be heard clearly.  "Than... thank you.   I'm umm... I'm very... I'm very grateful.   Thank you."

"Yeah, no it's, you know," Rory muttered, as he stepped back from the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he did so.  "Warm is good."

"Warm... thank you."

"Well like I said," Rory said, moving back to the door.  He stopped with one foot out of the room and his hand on the door handle.  "Where's your teddy?"

"Oh!" Callum shifted quickly to pull back the quilt and expose it, not wanting to keep Rory waiting.  Not wanting to find out that maybe it wasn't ok after all but not willing to hide anything.  Honesty was always necessary. Never lie. 

"Oh that's ok,"  Rory said, and Callum wondered if there was anything that wasn't ok.  He wondered what would happen if he stumbled upon the one thing whatever it may be, that wasn't ok.  "I was worried for a moment, thought you'd lost it or something. That's an important teddy huh?"

Callum nodded and opened his mouth to speak then thought better.  That could be the thing. That could be the one thing that this time around wasn't ok.

"You alright bud?"  Rory asked.  "You can ask, you know.  If, I mean, if there's something that you need, or want.  Or.  You can."  Callum wiggled his toes again beneath the covers where the nervousness could be hidden away.  He'd asked this before.  He was sure that he had but it ate away at him constantly and the feeling was suffocating.  And Rory seemed so much more ready to provide reassurance than Master Hayden ever was.

"Umm..." he stuttered the sound out and winced at it.  "I I I...I mean... I'm sorry and I know that...I know it's... I'm sorry but...Master Hayden... he...umm..."Callum tried to calm his breathing down.  He could feel it picking up and he pushed his ankles together and tried not to move too obviously.   He wanted to push his hands together behind his back when he saw Rory's face fall at the mention of his Master.  It was too late to stop now.  The dye was cast.

"He he umm... he knows I'm... gone.  He knows?  It's an ok thing?  It's an...ok?"

He wanted, for the first time since coming here, coming home as Rory always said, to dive beneath the covers and hide.  Instead he stayed perfectly still and waited for his punishment.

"Sweetheart," Rory whispered, his brows furrowed.  "It's perfectly ok for you to be here.  I promise you.  You're here because you're meant to be, alright?"

Callum looked at Rory and moved his arm as slowly and quietly as he could so that it touched his teddy.

"Alright Cal?" 

"Yes," Callum answered straight away, the weight of shame for having made Rory wait for an answer pressed down on him.  It felt too heavy, too cloying and all encompassing.  Rory never took his shame away from him, never.  He wished with all his heart that he'd answered first time because without Master Hayden to tell him that he was ashamed and imperfect, there was no one else to do it.  It got stuck inside him and on him and all over him until it itched and burned and wouldn't go away.  He couldn't stop it.  Rory wouldn't stop it. 

"Umm... sorry I'm sorry for not... for not answering straight away.  I'm sorry."

"Look it's ok yeah?" Rory said, holding on to the edge of the door.  "There's things here that just don't need to worry about.  Like most things to be honest.  We'll work it out.  We'll get there."  Callum looked at him, looked and waited to be sure that he wasn't going to interrupt Rory then nodded shakily.  "Right.  Cool.  This is good, yeah.  It's all going to be good.  Don't forget your hot water bottle and if you need anything I'll just be in my room.  Cal?  I mean it.  You need anything, anything at all, you can come and find me.  Wake me up.  I'll never mind if you do.  Never."

"I will," Callum said quietly.  "Thank you for everything and the umm... the hot... thank you.  And for letting me keep my teddy...umm"

"Alright well I'll be off then,"  Rory ducked out of the room and shut the door behind him, plunging the room back into darkness again, so much pressing darkness that it made Callum's eyes water.  Or he was crying.  He didn't know anymore.

He sat up again and took his teddy with him, holding it tightly in one hand while he groped around at the foot of the bed with the other, finding the heat of the hot water bottle in the darkness.  He had promised that he'd use it.  He was very good at keeping promises. 

Quickly he picked it up and tucked it down by his feet, hissing in a breath at the heat on the soles of his feet, then sat forward and hugged his teddy to his chest.

Leaning further into the heat and the softness, Callum bent his head to press his nose into the teddy's fur and breathed in.  It still smelled like his basement.  Like his home for the past three years.  Like everything he'd known.  It smelled of soil and leaves where it had been trampled into the dirt not far from his tree.  He had done some of his most intense atoning at his tree.  Those had been the times when he had been at his most ashamed and his least perfect but he had made up for it with blood and tears.  With red, white, black and blue.  The perfection that had followed had never lasted.  It never did.  But it had always been the most intense. 

Still clutching tightly to the teddy, he lay back down again, eyes darting around the room, his breathing hitching up again. 

He looked and looked and gripped on to the only thing that seemed real.  The only thing left that he had that felt exactly the same when he fell asleep as it did when he woke up.  The only thing that he didn't have to question. 

Little by little his eyes readjusted to the room.  Out the corner of his eye, high up on the wall, a tiny splash of light crept in through a small gap at the top of the curtains where the material didn't quite meet.  When he looked directly at it, he lost the focus.  It dissipated and left him again. 

Carefully, slowly, softly, he evened out his breathing and relaxed his grip on his teddy, keeping it pressed lightly to his chest where his heart could beat up against it and he could still breathe it in when he needed to.  He gazed at a spot on the wall just next to the patch of barely-there light.

He gazed until his blinks grew longer.  Until each blink was a micro sleep.  Until each micro sleep was a doze.

He gazed until he fell asleep in a bed with blankets and his teddy and a hot water bottle in an actual room. 

Because it was ok.

[margridarnauds]

Topic - English language productions of German language musicals (should they happen? Why don’t they? Just how bad was DotV?)

To quote a friend: OhOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO. 

Personally, I feel like, at this point, the era for German language musicals to be translated is long since gone. It isn’t that I’m THRILLED for this, because I think there’s potential, but I feel like the time that it REALLY could have worked would have been in the 80s-90s. But, since that time, the era of the megamusical....it’s gone. It was gone with Lestat, it was gone with Tanz, and it was one of the reasons why The Pirate Queen....sank (though I have further Thoughts on the Pirate Queen that would require a different post entirely.) These days, musicals tend to be....well. Pop-y. Not as many big-budget historical musicals that rely a lot on spectacle. Taking something like Elisabeth or Tanz to the stage now....it would be totally out of touch with the current mood on Broadway, unless you decided to dip dye the Sternenkleid pink. HAD Rebecca not been subjected to....That™, it might have had a chance, since it, at least, has source material that American audiences are more likely to be familiar with, but, in all honesty, I still think it would have died a fiery death. Broadway, in general, doesn’t have much of a taste for the gothic (Hadestown is probably the closest, off the top of my head. Phantom’s still kicking, but people go to see Phantom by virtue of it being PHANTOM ) It tends to play things relatively safe and, for the most part, most of the musicals that seem to REALLY do well are the ones that will appeal to the tourists. 

Now. As for personal taste. It isn’t something I talk about TOO often, but I obviously love gothic spectacles and, therefore, haven’t really been feeling at home with the Broadway crowd since....well. 2016. That’s partially why I left Broadway and decided to stick to Europe, Japan, and Korea, because there IS a market for gothic spectacles there, it’s...homier, in a sense. (And we get regular productions of Dracula.) I do feel there’s something OFF about the fact that just about every single major musical market in the world can handle these but not American/English audiences but....well. I don’t know HOW the American market would react to something that didn’t come from there, at the risk of sounding condescending to our shared country..............they don’t really like to step out of their comfort zone. 

I honestly don’t believe DOTV was as bad as the fandom generally makes it out to be. I DO think the humor, including the opening scene, can be.....wie sagt man.....cringe. It was too self aware, tried to parody itself TOO HARD, to the extent that the emotional scenes just didn’t hit right. (How can you take Confessions of a Vampire seriously when, ten seconds ago, they were making dick jokes? “Your banana is peeling” is seared into my brain forever.) Herbert, while always an offensive predatory gay stereotype, is somehow taken to new heights here. But, then again, some extreme fan reactions make it sound like humor, including cringey humor NEVER existed in Tanz before then, and I’m just like “I’m so glad you were able to exorcize the Magda Boob Staking Scene from your mind, because I can’t.” I feel like a lot of the issues with Dance were there in the source material to begin with, in all honesty, not the least because our source material here is a Roman Polanski movie. 

While it has its flaws, I believe, firmly, that it made the RIGHT decision in making Sarah the indisputable protagonist of the piece. I don’t care what Michael Kunze says (honestly, keeping Kunze as far away from the Broadway production as possible might have been the best possible decision, because the man must have sold his soul to write women well in one musical and was never able to repeat the trick)- Sarah should always have been the protagonist to begin with; the gothic genre has, traditionally, centered women and their journeys at the centre of it, and, anyway, Sarah’s arc about choosing to be a vampire over the abusive family structure she grew up in is much more interesting to me, personally, than.....whatever Alfred has. Alfred, as a character, is rather cardboard to me, I’m ngl, and has the unfortunate, fatal flaw of being written by Roman Polanski as a self insert on top of that. His general existence has always kind of been the evidence, for me, that this show was very, very much written by men. His arc has always seemed....Nice Guy-ish™. Not in the sense of him actually BEING a Nice Guy, but in the sense that the message that it sends is somewhere along the lines of “She doesn’t REALLY know what she wants. One day, if you keep trying hard enough, that hot girl will leave her douchebag vampire boyfriend and be with you.” Now, EVERY iteration of Dance has that, to some extent, but I feel like centering Sarah at least mitigates it to some extent, especially since Mandy Gonzales did a really, really vibrant, very ALIVE Sarah who took life by the reins every step of the way. Dance also, in my opinion, handles the Magda and Rebecca situation better. Not WELL, because you would have to create an entirely different show for that, but BETTER. 

That being said....really? Killing Krolock? Really? Come on. 

[johnnywoub806]

The Rates of interest Of Henna & 13 Moons Tattoo

Although it appears dark green when applied, this green paste will flake off revealing an orange stain. The stain turns into a reddish-brown colour after 1-3 days of software. The palms and the soles of the ft stain the darkest as a result of the pores and skin is the thickest in these areas & include the most keratin. The farther away from palms and toes the henna is utilized, the lesser the color.

Can henna tattoos be permanent?

How do henna "tattoos" work? They're not permanent like an ink tattoo, but they also don't wash off like a pen mark. A. Henna tattoos are made by making a paste out of leaves of the henna plant and something acidic like lemon juice.

And while Haque encourages both henna artists and clients to respect the sanctity of the tradition, she also believes a modern and gracious interpretation of the follow is feasible. For Bühler-Rose, henna is a way to protect and perpetuate her historical past. "The use of henna evokes reminiscences of valuable quiet moments in childhood, during which henna was brewed and utilized," she says. It's also necessary to notice that some stains are bought as henna. They usually come in bright colors, like blue, green, yellow, or purple. It's unclear how these stains could have an result on the pores and skin and the quality of the materials utilized in stains is prone to differ significantly.

Do Not Forget The Feet

We recommend that you just go away the Henna paste on for as lengthy as you can in order to get a darkish and long lasting Henna tattoo. Check out our gallery of henna tattoos for a small sampling of the totally different kinds of tattoos provided by us. You can get often get it at your native Middle Eastern or Indian grocery store. You could should attempt a couple of brand earlier than you discover one that you actually like working with because various varieties of henna work higher for various functions. For instance, some henna stays darkish longer, while other kinds of henna could additionally be simpler to work with or have been sifted higher. Your finest wager may be shopping for henna online, the place you can peruse product critiques before deciding which model might be finest for you.

Next, wash the part of your pores and skin you want to henna over, like your hand, wrist, or ankle, and apply your design utilizing the squeeze bottle.

She adorned the gorgeous results together with her mom's private jewellery items for her mountainside celebration in Colorado.

An elaborate red henna tattoo predominantly that includes a wreath design is portrayed on the wearer’s left hand in this henna tattoo.

Once a person is sensitized, only a small quantity of the chemical can provoke a very robust response.

The solely method to understand how these items will have an effect on you, is to have henna carried out. Three weeks later, after the applying of a corticosteroid cream for the earlier 10 days, her rash had still not utterly disappeared. [newline]Influenza or 'flu' is a viral respiratory illness, mainly spread by droplets made when people with flu cough, sneeze or talk. Serious outcomes of flu an infection are hospitalization or death. Florida is currently experiencing a reasonably extreme influenza season.

What Is Black Henna?

By legislation, all colour additives utilized in cosmetics have to be accredited by FDA for their meant makes use of, aside from coal tar colours supposed to be used in hair dyes. In addition, some color components should not be used until FDA has certified that the batch meets the regulatory requirements for composition and purity. To learn more, see Color Additives and Cosmetics, and, for information on how colour additives are approved, Color Additive Petitions. Understand what’s in black henna ink and why the FDA warns some people can get a critical allergic reaction. These temporary, secure tattoos usually last about two weeks till they start to fade.

Can henna tattoos scar?

Studies have found that at least 69% of people will suffer a reaction to black henna if it's left on the skin for 120 minutes or more, which is common when it's applied as a temporary 'tattoo'. “If you have a lot of blistering and a lot of swelling, it is possible to end up with permanent scarring.

Henna tattoos have been used in cultures all over the world as a end result of they are protected, stunning, and utterly temporary. Branch out into some body art by making use of your own henna tattoo, and see what you'll be able to create. "According to 2013 North American Contact Dermatitis Group data, about 5.5% of sufferers who had been patch examined with PPD had an allergic response.

[peppymint1986]

For louiserandom on the occasion of the Tobiizu Gift Exchange Event.  Not serious romance, just boys being boys

Polarity

There were many things that irritated Senju Tobirama on an everyday basis.  His clan, other clans, his brother, even the sun.  Moonlight was vastly preferable; for one, it did not burn his sensitive skin.  What could he say?  He was a moody person.  Currently though, the top spot went once again to the raven-haired seventeen year old standing right beside him.  To be fair though, it was not Izuna’s fault.  At least not this time.  No, it was solely the blame of the man who had hired both of them for the same job.  

In this case, they had been hired as guards.  The last five days had seemed like an eternity.  Hours upon hours of performing his duties while valiantly attempting to ignore Izuna’s perfectly innocent remarks.  And they were perfectly innocent, to everyone but the two of them that is.  He wished he had been able to ignore the other entirely, but he wasn’t stupid.  Just because they were temporarily on the same side in no way meant the Uchiha wouldn’t use something to his advantage later.

Adding to Tobirama’s inner fury was that it hadn’t even been a real job.  Evidently the man’s plan had been to wait until the two of them attacked each other and then swoop in while they were distracted.  To be honest it was a little insulting.  As though he or Izuna would ever be so unprofessional.  

Regardless, upon realizing his original plan was a bust, their so-called employer had taken matters into his own hands.  Which was what had led to their current situation, being hunted like rats in a maze.  Or perhaps a better description would be leopards in a jungle given that they had no intention of going down easy.  The only good thing about this whole scenario was that they had gotten paid in advance.  

“I don’t see why I have to be the girl anyway,” Izuna whined, smoothing down the sides of the padded kimono, as they peered out of the alleyway.  

“Well maybe,” Tobirama whispered heatedly back.  “If you wore your hair at a more reasonable length, you wouldn’t have to be the girl.”  Though in all honesty Tobirama was forced to admit, if only to himself, that Izuna’s delicate facial features were quite lovely all on their own.  He paused for a moment.  “But if it really bothers you that much we could always cut it off.”

Taking a prudent step backwards, the Uchiha grabbed his hair protectively.  “Don’t you dare!”  he screeched.  Unlike Madara’s hair, which had a life of its own, it had taken Izuna years to get his hair to this point.  

“Quiet.”  Tobirama ordered.  Did the other want them to get caught?  For a moment, the two teenagers just glared at each other before Izuna grimaced.  

“Now what?” Tobirama huffed.  

“Nothing.”  Izuna stole another glance at his rival’s face.  “It is just, you look really weird with brown hair.”  He had also found it totally bizarre when the albino had used a small packet of dye and a suiton technique to change the color of the silvery white strands in five minutes flat.  He had been so thrown he hadn’t even managed to tease the other about the makeup Tobirama had used to cover his facial markings.  

Seriously.  Tobirama rolled his eyes.  It was simple logic for someone with his coloring to carry mundane disguise materials.  One never knew when they might come in handy.  Not for the first time since everything had gone south, Tobirama wondered why he hadn’t just left the other.  Truthfully though, he knew.  

As much as he sometimes wanted Uchiha Izuna out of his life permanently,  Tobirama tried not to think too hard about what would happen to the other if they were captured.  Odds were, while his greatest value to their current enemies  would be for the price on his head, his rival would not be so lucky.  Bloodline thieves had always been the scum of the earth.  

“If you have a better idea to get out of here I am all ears.”  Not only did they have to dodge the other shinobi, the city guard had also been brought into the mix.  The charges against them were pure fabrication of course.  However, by the time they managed to prove that to a magistrate it would be far too late for them.  

“Well,” the Uchiha replied all wide-eyed innocence.  “We could always ditch stealth and fight our way out.”  Once they made it to the edge of the city they could vanish into the woods and be gone.  

Tobirama scowled.  Izuna had always possessed true talent for pretending the space between his ears was permanently up for rent.  “You know exactly why we can’t fight our way out of here Izuna,” he snapped.  They would if they had to of course, but with shinobi clans reputation was everything.  Neither the Senju nor the Uchiha could afford for their second heirs to be known as indiscriminate killers.  

His scowl deepened.  “And would you stop that.  You know that look hasn’t worked on me since we were twelve years old.”  And even before then Tobirama had known better.  

Almost immediately the Uchiha’s previous expression vanished to be replaced with a mocking grin.  “As you wish Tobi-kun.”

The albino’s left eye twitched.  “And don’t call me Tobi.”  He was seriously debating the merits of strangling the other when his eyes widened.  He didn’t stop to think.  Lunging forward, he wrapped his arms around his rival, making sure Izuna was not in a position to stab him before smashing their lips together.

Izuna went stiff as a board before softening at the sound of approaching footsteps, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.  Slowly, almost reluctantly, the Uchiha pulled away before turning to face the two guardsmen, long raven hair half obscuring his/her face.  “Yes,” a silky smooth voice laced with illusion inquired.

“Sorry Milady,” one of the guards apologized.  “We thought you were someone else.”

Tempting as it was to tease them a little longer, Izuna knew better, instead graciously offering forgiveness to the pair.  Once the two were out of sight though, he violently shoved Tobirama away.

“What was that about?” the Uchiha hissed irately.

“It was the first thing I could think of,” Tobirama defended himself.  “It worked, didn’t it?”

“That is not the point,” Izuna said tightly.

“I don’t see what you are so worked up about anyway,” Tobirama went on.  “It was not like it was that great of a kiss.”  

“Not that great of a kiss,” Izuna snarled like an irate cat.  “I’ll show you.”  Grabbing the other by the collar, he yanked Tobirama in and kissed him again.  And then again, just to be sure.   

When the next guard came along, he reached the same conclusion as the first pair.  No, he thought to himself as he continued his patrol.  That could not possibly be them.

Omake

Tobirama: You dare

Izuna: Of course I dare

@louiserandom @tobiizugiftexchange