#i appreciate they call it kerosene

[gengarpng]

Got a yee yee ass energy drank

[chimimon]

What Gave Me Away?

Astarion x f!Reader

Word Count 9.5k

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: GAMEPLAY SPOILERS! & ROMANCING ASTARION SPOILERS! Mentions of canonical violence, Astarion POV, angst, with comfort (it ends nice I promise), slow burn, depictions of anxiety, depression, anger, insecurity, guilt, manipulation, blood drinking (of course), and it’s long as fuuuuuuu

& what I have to say is… As it turned out, I had played all of Act 2 out of order, and stopped doing that before I did some irreversible damage to my Moonrise Tower to-do list. Which means when I began to write this fic EVERYTHING WAS OUT OF ORDER. It still might be but idgaf anymore. Even the mf confession scene (I WIN! I WIN AND I DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO CHARM THAT VAMPIRE MF) I was sitting in my room, phone on my chest, Baldurs Gate in my hands googling ‘what to do before moonrise’, ‘moonrise or mausoleum first in bg3’, because I explored much more than I should have, apparently… So this fic has been Frankenstein-ed to death, and the word count has greatly exceeded my expectations. It’s kind of my baby so be nice and give it a little love if you like it… or don’t! I appreciate you either way. And Special thanks to E.P. for the prompt and her friend in SoCal because I was about to screw myself OVEEERRR!

Everything seemed bleak on the way to the Light Inn. Nothing magical or charming about the glowing mushrooms anymore and the air felt as thick as water. Astarion faithfully trudged behind you through the mud, uneven trails, and hostile shadowy figures. But sometimes you would squint at the marker on the map or linger a little longer than you should have. He would watch you squeeze your right hand with your left as you studied the hastily blotted spot, then you would trace the drawn pathway with your left hand while the right one would cover and squeeze your mouth. Beyond scenery, and new objectives, everyone was adapting. They had to; he had to. But you were changing faster than others, faster than him, and much faster than he could keep track of. 

Astarion felt like he was watching you disappear, or feeling you slip out of his hands the way blood from deep wounds squeezed between desperately closed fingers. From kind traveler, comforter, and hopefully hopeless leader, you burned with a desire to be it all. In front of other wandering bodies, the mere strangers swimming through the Underdark, Astarion watched you hold this fire with outstretched, kerosene-soaked hands, just to give someone else light. You might never see these people again, but you did it anyways, even if all it did was burn. Whether it be fighting at some poor soul's side or offering words of comfort, once the rescuee turned to leave Astarion watched to see whatever leftover flame danced in your palms. Some nights he couldn’t even call it that despite you cradling it close to your chest. 

Often times Astarion thought of taking over your dealings even if it meant they’d get a little lost in his blind, apathetic advice. He knew that you were the most levelheaded person to lead but gods you started to look as lost as he already felt. The Inn was just a bridge away, before it was it was a group of protective Harpers away. Before anyone could find a place to lay their heads Astarion felt his patience thin when having to save Isobel was thrown into the mix. But you fought fearlessly. Always saving people without a second to spare, or a second to think. 

Lately, Astarion wondered just where you had been all these years. 

“If possible,” you spoke in soft whispers to Jaheira about your accommodations. “Could I have a single room for tonight? I-I can pay I just-” 

With a quick hand over yours and a warm smile, Jaheira reassured you that after keeping their Selûne Warrior safe, the least she could do was let you have a room to yourself. “It has two beds, but you can push them together for one big one.” You nodded and thanked her with a long breath out. 

Astarion for a moment pretended to be looking at a patron nearby as you walked toward him. But he couldn’t help trying to keep you in scene before you could arrive. Trying to read your shoulders, eyes brows and hands. Truthfully Astarion was looking for something soft in your inventory; he wondered if tonight you might have anything to spare. 

“If you’re hungry,” your worn out, dim voice and all-knowing watch cut in. “You can feed on me tonight if you’d like.” 

“I was just so hoping you’d ask. But are you really looking for alone time?” Giving you a tilted head and lopsided glance was enough to tell him where he stood. “Or are you looking for alone time with me, darling?” 

“I was going to pretend you weren’t obviously eavesdropping, but you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You were warm enough to keep up with a quirked a brow and an equally lazy grin. “After today I feel like everyone can smell me from outside the Inn. So, until I can shower... I don’t even want to think about doing anything other than sleeping in a bed.” 

“I’m sure you don’t.” He whisked behind you and whispered, “But if change your mind, at least think of me.” 

“Aha, I’ll be seeing you later,” the back of your hand smacked your forehead as though you were swooning. “Tonight.” 

A small guilt tugged at his chest before you nodded off and up the stairs. Astarion would lounge around in the waiting area while Karlach gushed over Jaheira from afar. Shadowheart walked alongside her to study the Inn with wholehearted skepticism. Audibly muttering her thoughts about the moon maiden, the area as a whole, and how Shar’s worshippers must have had their reasons. She broke away from Karlach and headed to Astarion with her eyes stuck to Jaheira. “We should probably get to our room them?” 

“Right.” 

On cue, Karlach caught them both headed up the stairs and followed. She waved to Jaheira, still gushing. “Gods isn’t this exciting- oh, hey? Where’d our little leader go?” Karlach asked upon arrival. 

“She might’ve beat us to bed.” Shadowheart smiled. “I wouldn’t blame her if she’s fast asleep, she’s earned it.” 

Astarion thought about letting them know about your requested ‘alone time’ but figured you would come around to telling them after they find you. 

Little drops of drying water decorated the wooden floor in a trail that led down the stairs. Astarion followed the trail with his eyes alongside Karlach who noticed it too. “Wait, Shadowheart,” she called. 

None of them had noticed you pass by with freshly washed hair and a towel around your shoulders.  They all backtracked down the staircase, Karlach stood near a game of chess, Shadowheart by the banister, and Astarion some feet behind you while you knelt in front of a hairless cat. You seemed more at ease tonight. 

“Hello, your highness.” You let your hand keep you steady on the ground as you spoke. “I’ve come to admire your beauty.” The cat sat tall and proud, lifting his head so you can awe at his hairless self. “And what a beautiful cat indeed.” You cooed without reaching to touch the animal. 

The cat nodded and swiftly made its way over to its bed, dismissing you with its whole, hairless body. You stood up, stretched your arms above your head before catching the group lounging nearby. Nothing was said as you politely waved to everyone before turning your attention to a man and child playing chess. 

From behind you couldn’t tell just then who you were looking at but as you rounded the table to get a good view of the game, Raphael and Mol, the Tiefling child who spoke on everyone's behalf earlier, seemed to be in a heated match. Raphael was going to win despite giving Mol pointers. If anything, his pointers were just to remind Mol that she was going to lose no matter the move. 

The child's pouting seemed to give you an idea. You took a drawn-out stretch being sure to overextend your arms and back. Astarion knew exactly what you were doing before you ‘lost your balance’ and knocked into the board. The pieces tipped and rolled in every direction and Raphael shot a knowing look at you, only turning back to the board after his opponent had pieced it back together. 

“Well, go on, Mol.” The devil muttered. 

With one move Mol won the game and shot up from their seat. “Well, that settles it. Fair and square!” They exclaimed proudly. 

“Sure, fair and square.” Raphael nodded up to you. “But before you go,” Mol looked over her shoulder. “Think about my offer.” 

Up and away she went while Raphael turned to his leftover audience. “Fancy seeing you all here, and so far away from the sun.” 

“I didn’t know you struck up deals with children.” Your tone surprised Astarion. 

“Don’t you worry, it’s only a necessary evil. She’ll come around to the only option she has,” Raphael expectantly looked past you to Astarion. “But I have a feeling your little friend has a question they want to ask me.” 

“I do,” Astarion’s eye contact wavered. “I have a proposal.” Raphael mocked him before mentioning something about his how drinking blood would burn more than whiskey. “This is serious business, devil.” Astarion hardened his voice as he explained the runes. From the corner of his eye, he watched you stiffly fold your arms and size Raphael up with a glare. Astarion felt some comfort in that. “I want to know if it’s maybe a contract...” 

“Well, what could it be?” Raphael melodically taunted. “A lover letter, a deed, a contract?” He waved his hand in front of Astarion’s face like he was introducing the opening act in a play. “But I need time to think. I will have to get back to you on that.” 

Astarion whined, reiterating just how serious this was to him before asking, “Just how soon will you get back to me on that?” 

“Soon.” 

At some point you fidgeted with the fabric of the towel around your neck before steadily pulling it to one side of your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” the devil reassured both of you, “I am most inclined to help.” With dramatic flair, Raphael disappeared in a quick plume of smoke. 

All eyes but yours turned to Astarion, and Astarion with his on you. It was clear that Raphael’s attitude had rubbed you the wrong way as you blankly stared at the spot he vanished from. “I’ll get back to you on that.” you mumbled. Your damp hair had soaked into the neck of your top. The towel dangled in your balled fist at your hip. The cool breeze sent shivers up your neck before you put the cloth back onto shoulders. After another moment of thinking, you turned around to head to your room. 

“Darling?” Despite it being barely audible, his voice seemed to reach you anyway as he caught your subtle hesitation before decidedly going on your way. 

Karlach and Shadowheart both began to say something but in vain as you were so lost in thought still that you couldn’t hear. They turned their attention to Astarion who intently watched you. “Is something going on between you two?” 

“What?” Astarion snapped his head to Karlach. 

“Sorry.” She snorted. “It could’ve been Raphael but she just seems way more tired than usual.” 

“Well, we are in the Underdark, Karlach.” He said obviously. “It’s dark down here, and I’m sure that the dark makes most normal people tired.” 

“Don’t be rude Astarion.” Shadowheart butt in. “Are you sure that feeding on her every night wouldn’t be a contributing factor along with ‘the dark’?” 

“Haven’t you been healing her up every morning?” 

“I have not. Not since we’ve been down here.” Karlach watched in awe between the stairs and then to two bantering at the bottom. “So, if you’ve been feeding on her still, well... She hasn’t had any of her usual morning chats with me.” Shadowheart finished. 

Karlach watched as Astarion’s eyes round in realization. The guilt grew, pushing his stomach up into his neck. “Oh Fangs, you didn’t know. It’s okay, I think.” 

“Is it, Karlach?” Shadowheart interjected, shooting a venomous glare at the ill looking vampire. “It started with a dagger to her neck, which she forgave. Then she’s understanding of your hunger, even defending you to Gale after you go at her neck again without permission.” 

“That was once- only twice-!” He pushed his finger out to correct her. 

“And all you can do is give half-hearted compliments and bat your eyelashes whenever you need something. A potion, a moment, a warm body to bleed. I mean, have you even said thank you?” 

Karlach put her hand between the two. “Shadowheart, I know you’re worried about her but you know that it’s can’t just one person's fault. It might not be anyone’s fault let alone Astarions.” She waved it up and down. “I think we’re all just tired-.” 

“Don’t act like you’re physically incapable of talking to her yourself!” Astarion retorted above and below Karlach’s hand. “And my attempts to thank her have been pushed aside, thank you very much!” 

“Ever try a full-fledged, verbal ‘thank you for feeding me every night, I appreciate you letting me suck you dry, Darling.’ ever?” She took a deep breath in, and on exhale she let her shoulder drop. 

“Let’s just go up and check on her then.” Karlach successfully cut in. 

Shadowheart reached into a small pouch on her person and thoughtfully brought out the little idol of Shar you gifted her the moment you could dust it off. “Do you know just how much she puts into our group?” Her voice was coated in adoration, and it made Astarion sick. “Or how much she’s already put in?” 

Astarion knew. Of course he knew. He was well aware of how much he took, as well as often as did. But he always knew just when to stop, or at least he thought he knew. But that was before he started to find you in even the smallest corners of his mind, before he found himself keeping an eye on you in battle, before the guilt got harder to swallow. If he pushed your sincerity aside with closed eyes as he held out a beggar's hand, the weight of what you gave him would mean nothing if he didn’t have see what you were left with. 

The strangers, travelers, your kind demeanor and hopeful act. Looking back to the Harper woman that marked your map, he wondered if the Light Inn was going to be enough to keep you going tomorrow. If it was enough for you to spare anything more after, or in the days to come. Gods, was the Harper woman a reflection of him? Where he only loathed her for sinning the same way he did; or for taking what he was saving for later? If anything, Astarion felt like he might as well just be another traveler to you. Someone that followed you around like hungry, dead weight. But he would never have to wonder how far you had carried him and six others, they had the map and markers. But he did wonder just how often he stole your living, breathing warmth. 

Wasn’t that the plan, for him to bleed you dry? Then, now, and hopefully after? 

“I don’t think Astarion would do anything to purposefully weaken her.” Karlach came to his defense. “That wouldn’t make sense, especially now. Besides, she is a big girl and can come to you if she feels like it.” 

Shadowheart shook her head. “You know what? You’re right. And so are you, Astarion.” The little, rock carved goddess dramatically fell to her side alongside her hand as she turned. “Why am I even waiting for her to ask? I’ll be upstairs.” She ran and left Karlach to tend to Astarion. 

“Fangs, you’re looking down, too. Don’t let Shadowheart get to you she’s been…” Karlach gave a sympathetic smile. “You know you can always talk to Mama-K.” Her laugh was aimed at herself as Astarion playfully rolled his eyes. 

The two of them watched the floor before Astarion looked up to her. “Do you think I’ve done it this time?” 

Without a second thought Karlach shook her head enthusiastically. “You might be right about the Underdark. There’s more on her mind than just you and me. Well, in her mind… I should say.” 

“In our minds.” a pathetic laugh bubbled from the nausea. “I think our dark princess would have to agree with that. At least to some extent.” 

Karlach met Astarion’s gaze with another sympathetic smile “I know you care,” she seemingly said out of nowhere. “I’m not the only one who sees it when you look at her. Even if it’s just a little. I think she at least knows that you care about her if Shadowheart doesn’t, ya’ know?” 

Astarion slowly nodded with a confused look before Karlach lead the way to their room. When Shadowheart returned from her check-in with you, she paid no mind to Astarion for the rest of the night. Instead, she went straight to Karlach, and to what his eavesdropping could gather, he safely assumed that he was in the clear. He guessed you really did just need alone time. 

After his vampiric rest, he lied still. Whatever light from outside cast patterns on the ceiling, and he cut them out into little pieces with Shadowheart’s steady breathing and some occasional snoring from Karlach in the background. Then he wondered what you sounded like while you slept. He hated that he didn’t pay attention the one time he could. Did you snore? If you did, were they raspy, hollow breathes or loud snorts that echoed? Maybe you were the restless dreamer where the shuffle of blankets and pillows would tell him you were just about to wake up. 

Astarion found himself wanting to know and shot up before he could want to know more. 

The wood was cool on the bottom of his feet. Without creaking, cracks, or splinters Astarion was able to move quietly out of the room into the hall. Lit candles lined the hallway to your room which felt more meaningful to him than it should have but he shook coincidence away and out of his mind. Instead, Astarion thought about how you pretended not to hear him earlier, he thought back to hands holding flames and he froze, feeling sick at your door. 

I’m hungry, he told himself. I feel sick because I am hungry. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, clearly expecting him with your hair pulled to one side and the right side of your neck exposed. “You’re late.” 

“Only a little, darling.” Astarion made his way over to plant his right knee beside your thigh, his left leg between your own. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” 

“Hardly.” you whispered to the door behind him. “Besides, I can’t let you go hungry, can I?” 

Astarion decided not to press you. “I suppose not.” He smirked as the breath of his reply sent goosebumps all over your neck and shoulders. 

Tonight, you didn’t close your eyes in anticipation. There was no shiver down your spine or shudder in your breath when Astarion held both of your shoulders while he slowly sunk his teeth in. Hells, you didn’t even whine. It felt like kissing someone who wouldn’t close their eyes or kiss him back. 

Astarion made it quick, hardly getting his fill. As he arose and took a step back to search you up and down for any sign of discomfort. There was nothing out of the ordinary, you paled like usual, especially in your lips, but your expression was unreadable. Visibly there was nothing wrong, but he wanted to listen to your beating heart just to be sure nothing was moving faster or slower than it should. Then without thinking, he suddenly and loosely embraced you in his arms to put his head to your chest. 

“Woah, h-hey.” You jumped back on your elbows, crawling a step back on the bed. 

Astarion’s hands shot up in the air. “I was just,” The look of innocent surprise that coated your body was cute until he remembered why you looked so venerable. He furrowed his brows as he massaged the bridge of his nose, coming off of the bed. “I-I didn’t, or- I don’t mean to insinuate anything, my dear.”  

“Then...” The bed shook under his knee as you relaxed onto your hands, upright but leery. “What were you trying to do?” 

“Nothing, really." He massaged his neck. “Unless-” 

“Unless nothing.” You wildly grinned. “Unless nothing, Astarion. I really mean to have my alone time.” 

“Are you-” Astarion squared his gaze onto the litters of goosebumps on your chest and shoulders while you self-soothingly rubbed your arms. “Are you cold?” His chest tightened once he realized you were suppressing the chatter of your teeth with a trembling jaw. 

“A little.” The movement slowed as you stiffly squeezed your biceps. “Blood loss tends to do that.” 

That’s right, he thought. Astarion of all people, or undead things, should know that the lack of blood meant a lack of warmth. 

“Don’t you look so concerned. That’s not like you.” You coyly laughed. “I’ve been okay before, and I’ll be okay now. I am sitting on top of a completely made bed, you know?” 

Astarion stretched his neck and sighed. “Of course.” He gave you a weak chuckle. “Well, I guess I’ll take my leave then. But if you need a little warming up, you know where to find me.” The rustle of sheets as you climbed under the covers made him scrunch his nose insecurely at the door. “Good night, darling.” 

The following morning, Astarion could found sitting at the chess table, replaying the night before. Not for Raphael but for you. It more so that he was cringing at himself and his lack of control. The way your reacted to his embrace compared to his bite made his head spin with wonder and disappointment. The fact that his teeth breaking your flesh was better received than his concern was astounding. Realizing that if he was going to pull you into him, it was expected that he take and not give. 

Was it that obvious? 

You descended the stairs, the two followed behind, and you were practically glowing. Immediately Astarion felt relieved to know that Shadowheart likely made sure to cast a restoration of some sort today. He sat up a little as you wordlessly greeted him, watching you feel the right side of your neck with your left hand while your self-conscious chuckle furthered his optimism. 

Sigh, last night, “Again, I didn’t-” Astarion started to apologize. 

“Hush.” You made big eyes in reference to the two behind you. “You’re alright in my book.” Sheepishly grinning, you tilted your head and scrunched your nose before heading out. 

As per usual, everyone followed your lead in battle. Successfully you collected the Moonlantern, freed a pixie from inside, and were already thinking about the next move back at camp the morning after. “I think we should scope out Moonrise before meeting with any head honchos.” You said near the empty fire pit at camp. “I’ll do my usual hoarding while we get a good look at the place. And this,” you pointed to a little circle with question mark inside, “I can hardly remember what for, but I think it was marked for some rumored supplies.” You wiggled your fingers in the air with feigned enthusiasm. “I would like this to be priority, actually.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Karlach affirmed. “And I see that good ol’ Gale will be joining us today?” 

“I shall be at your disposal, yes.” He smiled genuinely before it grew sheepish. “Of course, with the hopes that I would not be disposed of.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes.  

“Never, Gale.” You playfully smiled at Astarion. “You’re the last person here I’d do that to” 

“Oh, don’t look at me,” he scoffed but you did, playfully through your lashes. 

“Whatever you say.” You sung before quickly tucking the map away. “But today we’re just scoping, taking, and talking.” 

Everyone nodded, and without another word were off to Moonrise. 

To everyone’s surprise, the guards could not care less about your party going in. The parasite was like a VIP pass inside and the tadpole-less guests praised your every step. It was odd to be so easily trusted and to roam freely. Usually at least one person challenged your worm infected autonomy, but this was a nice yet eerie change. 

But to nobody’s surprise nothing could ever go according to plan. Gale had opened the biggest and most obvious set of doors upon entry and interrupted a meeting between some goblins and Katheric Thorm. To the very left of where Katheric was sat stood Z’rell, the cult advisor that the guards outside said everyone must report to. And again, to not no one’s surprise, the meeting was nothing short of incredibly memorable with a show of immortal strength and the opportunity to sacrifice a small goblin herd at trial. 

Astarion was curious to see what your heroic self would do when the fate of the goblin crews' lives was hurriedly placed in your hands. So, when you had asked them to stop speaking, ‘to not even breathe’, his heart raced with confusion and excitement. 

That’s my girl, he thought. “But by the gods, I hope she’s okay.” 

“Me too.” Karlach swallowed with disappointment. 

Astarion cupped his mouth, not meaning to have said the second half of his thought aloud. 

Karlach looked over to him, “I guess the Underdark really is doing a number on her.” 

“It would seem so.” He kissed his teeth. 

You waved everyone over to follow Z’rell upstairs. A whole new mission got added to the list and Astarion took in this small laugh of disbelief you gave him. In response he tucked in his chin and raised a brow as though to wordlessly ask what exactly had you expected after everything leading up to this. 

The Tower was big, full of locked doors and overly trusting guests that roamed and for a moment there was some pep in your step as soon as you finally got everyone back on track. But once a broken wall produced just under 200 gold and a spell scroll, your disappointment was obvious as you bit your knuckle at the open chest. Without enthusiasm, you drew a little check mark beside the rumored supplies you prioritized this morning. Astarion would normally have something snarky to say but the glowing girl from earlier was having her light put out by her own optimism and he wanted nothing more than to do or say something that could bring back a spark. A pixie, perhaps. But before he could reach out to you, Karlach pushed through a door and on the other side of it was Araj who would come to make things worse.  

The blood lusted alchemist was off to a bad start when she immediately noted Astarion as the ‘Pale Friend’, drawing a more than uninterested look from you as she spoke. “I can make one of a kind potion, just for you, from you.” She modestly smiled. “One prick, a drop of your blood and it’s yours. But I keep the rest for myself.” 

After some curious questions, Astarion was surprised when you held out your hand to be poked. But then thought about how stupid it was to be surprised at that after the night prior. Instantly a potion was produced and carefully placed into your hands. 

“Thank you-” 

“Before you go, there is one other thing I would like to discuss;” she interrupted moved closer to you, but only to get a better look at Astarion. “Your friend.” 

Astarion knew that he stood out in a room to anyone who knew anything about the undead. They could and often did sniff him out wherever he met them. So, when she inquired of his being a Vampire or spawn, he naturally reassured her that as a part of the absolute that everyone serving in Her name was safe in his company.  

“Oh no, I hope for quite the opposite.” Araj watched you expectantly. “I assume he belongs to you?” 

“Belongs?” A distasteful curiosity bled from your voice. “Excuse me, but he’s his own person.” 

She smiled mockingly. “I’m sure he believes that.” 

Distaste was a little soft, you looked and sounded appalled. Actually, to everyone in your corner, your face gave that word another meaning. The drow hardly asked for his name, if anything she flatly commanded it from the wide-eyed Vampire. 

Your finger flew back to shush him, “Astarion” he too quickly answered. “But wait-.” 

“Good.” She smirked. “Now-” 

Your finger made its way around to her before she could continue. “Watch it.” You warned. 

Astarion looked over to Karlach and Gale who were also caught just as off guard as you were. But she paid no mind to your hand as she explained her life-long, born from childhood dream of being bitten by a vampire. She looked too comfortable swooning as she talked about losing her blood in between life and death. “I’ll even give compensation. A potion of legendary power.” Araj bribed. 

Astarion knew where this was going as Araj gave the details of the potion. He knew where he was and knew everyone had just a taste of power these cultists had. He knew that most people would be persuaded with this once in a lifetime offer. Who wouldn’t want guaranteed strength in a bottle? Most people would be, but he hoped that you weren’t most people because was unsure he would say no if you asked him to. He knew he owed you that much. 

The Drow asked Astarion if he would bite her to which he kindly declined. Then she faced you, clearly taken aback. “Well, can’t you do something about him? About your spawn?” Astarion held his breath. 

“He said no.” Relief flooded his body, causing his shoulders to drop despite his fixed posture in surprise. But you were stiff, straightening your neck as disappointment spread across Araj’s face. “What part of that did you not get the first time?” 

“Soldier,” Karlach leaned to your ear. “I think we should get going.”  She nudged your foot with hers. “We’ll be seeing you, Arash.” 

“It’s Araj.” 

“Right, sorry.” Gale apologized on Karlach’s behalf and bowed on the way out. Astarion followed behind him through a door that took everyone back outside. 

Karlach seemed to be calming you down, and until Karlach mentioned it, Astarion didn’t realize that while Araj spoke you began to pet a dagger on your hilt. “We don’t need to get into trouble while we’re still on the Absolute’s ground. Not before we’re ready to be.” 

Surely it wasn’t on his behalf, was it? No could care about anyone that much let alone another Vampire’s Spawn. 

“I should’ve just done it. The doors were closed and who knows? Maybe she had the potion already on her. Or maybe not.” Astarion raised a brow as his stomach sank. “Fucking weirdo.” You muttered. 

“Wow,” Karlach laughed. “Fucking weirdo, I couldn’t agree with you more, Captain.” She ran up as you walked around the tower. 

Astarion blankly watched the back of your head from two people away as you grew quiet and stayed that way. He wanted to know what you were thinking and whether or not you were mad at him for being so unwilling or if your silence was left over from Araj. But there was also nothing planned after scoping out Moonrise, at least nothing anyone mentioned. Everyone settled on blindly following your lead as you spotted a hill with some makeshift graves. 

“Gale,” you stopped suddenly at the foot of an overgrown root. “Can you head back to camp and grab Shadowheart?” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “I’d really appreciate something warm and hearty when we get back, and I love her but-.” 

“No need, I get it.” Gale smiled, bowed, and waved everyone off. 

Astarion watched Gale leave before he caught you and Karlach now raced to a patch of dirt. When he caught up with you, Karlach was watching out for Shadowheart as you picked through some choice graves. 

“Sweetheart, are you robbing from dead Justiciars?” His shadow hovered over your hands. “Why have her join at all?” 

“I’m sure she might know something about this site. But not a word about my scavenging, please.” With steady hands your swiftly placed the stones back the way they were. 

Astarion’s index finger and thumb drew a line in front of his lips as he sealed them shut and threw away an imaginary key. “My lips are sealed.” 

You snorted and smacked the dirt off your hands before Shadowheart materialized out of thin air, having everything to say about Shar’s faithful fallen soldiers. As she knelt to one of the graves, reverently running her hand across the rocks, Astarion caught sight of a dimly lit entrance. Karlach saw it too and pointed. 

“Maybe we can check it out before we look for supplies in the buildings, we passed by…” her booming voice trailed off when she saw him, then everyone turned. 

Raphael was mumbling to himself at the bottom of some steps at entrance of a cave. As Astarion began to walk only to see you were once again leading the way over. Again, in disguise, the devil gave the details of his deal to the whole group. All they had to do was kill an old enemy of his if Astarion wanted his scars decoded. The deal seemed sweeter than what he expected, simpler, maybe too sweet. But no one was sure what price was to be paid for translation. 

Karlach leaned over to you. “Again, I really don’t know about this.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes before he turned away from the cave. He just missed your response, and how Karlach retorted didn't fill in any blanks. “I don’t want to be tricked into doing that evil fucker's errands for free or find out that this order is for more than any of us can afford fill.” 

“Well, for now,” Shadowheart shot Astarion a raised brow to measure. “I think should head back to camp. I think we could use a moment to relax.” She tilted her head to you with her eyes locked on Astarion. 

You nodded mindlessly. “Yeah, or at least a moment to think” 

Astarion began to open his mouth when Shadowheart chimed in again “Right,” sounding uncharacteristically chipper. “We should plan a little just before heading inside. 

“I’m sorry you came here for nothing-” 

“The graves of Justiciars are not nothing.  Besides, I’m glad you thought to have me, even if it was just for a moment.”  

Shadowheart was good at that. Being soft when you needed it. And Karlach was good at melting you into a giggling mess when she could. Most of the time Astarion could find something obscene enough to say, that pulled you out of your head to laugh. But lately he felt like him just being there was making it impossible for anyone to distract you from yourself. 

You looked pensive the whole walk back to camp. After everything that had happened today from Moonrise, to goblins, to devils, Astarion could not pinpoint if it was one specific thing or everything that weighed heavy on your mind. What he could gather was how drastic the dip in your mood was after Araj, and Raphael. Both of those things happened to be tied to him and he got that funny feeling again. The feeling that he was taking from you without realizing it. That his mere presence was enough to make you bleed. 

Astarion wished he had just said yes to drinking the Araj’s foul-smelling blood. He shouldn’t let you fight his battles and make his deals; he didn’t want you to anymore. Astarion was centuries older than you and yet you were the one holding his hand through the Underdark. Staying up late night after night so he could eat. And he found himself pondering it all too tenderly. 

Scratch and the Owlbear cub zipped past you, hopping around giddily despite the gloomy scenery. Astarion felt a bit pensive himself. You were just as distant as you had been lately but tonight you were especially cold. Sure, you were healthier today than you had been for a while, and nothing seemed to tire you out. But there wasn’t the light and witty banter you spewed so effortlessly that he loved. He missed your observant and borderline judgmental comments on anything you stole from buildings and corpses. Even in Balthazar’s room inside Moonrise Tower, which brimmed with separated limbs and cold jars of blood, you made no snarky comment in correlation to Astarion’s diet. It would’ve have been easy, low hanging fruit by his standards; but at this point he was pulling on the branches for you to reach, you wouldn’t even need to jump. Astarion just wanted you to pick up something, anything really to throw at him. 

“Hey,” You called out, making him unusually hopeful. 

“Yes, darling?” He gave his most honest grin. 

“Do you think we can trust him to keep up his end of the bargain? Raphael, I mean?”  

“I trust a devil over a vampire any day. Besides,” with his hand on his chest, Astarion leaned back. “I think he likes us.” 

How you slowly blinked and nodded flattened his hopes. “It’s your only lead, I suppose...” Scratch and the Owlbear nearly ran into you again, but you didn’t smile, flinch, or notice the animals despite watching them pass you two by. You were millions of miles away from everyone. Millions of miles away from him. 

“Yeah, it is our only lead. My only lead.” Astarion reiterated defensively. 

“I know, I know.” Your eyes screwed shut as you nodded some more. “Maybe we can go to the house of healing in case there’s something on Ketheric. Then after we can go to the cave.” 

“Only after…” What was cause for worry before was now cause for slight agitation. 

“Yes, well, I mean-” You threw your head back and up to the sky like itmight give you a clue. “Or..? Gods, I don’t know.” 

“What don’t you know, sweetheart?” 

“I-I don’t know that either. I don’t know what I don’t know, I guess.” Self soothingly you cupped your face and took a deep breath in. “What I do know is that’s it’s on my list.” You were staring at his neck, struggling to look up any further. 

You sounded unsure of yourself, and while that made him sympathetic, it did more to make him anxious. “I guess I can only hope that it’s high up there. Afterall, this is the first chance I’ve had at deciphering my scars.” Astarion apathetically reminded you, unable to help his tone when he leaned into your ear uncomfortably close. 

“Be a dear and don’t get in my way.” He spat. 

“I won’t?” You turned to him equally defensive. “Don’t you know by now that you can just-” Astarion faced you, practically touching noses but nothing about the tension was romantic once he caught what looked like tears pooling in your eyes. “Y-you should know by that you can just...” 

Karlach glanced over to what she likely saw as two people incredibly close to one another, “Oh, don’t look now but there’s PDA on the campgrounds,” she announced. Wyll let out a dramatic ‘Oo~’ that made her laugh. 

Astarion was horrified inside and unable to think despite having that same snippy look on his face. But once the tears fell, he quickly pulled away, finally softening his demeanor. Karlach eventually looked over at you two when she hadn’t heard any smart mouthed response. 

“You j-just have to ask.” You whimpered between labored breathes. 

Karlach ran to your side before Astarion could think to speak. “What happened?” The concern in her voice caught Gale and Shadowheart’s attention. Gale quietly watched Astarion from a few feet away while Shadowheart raced over to place her hands on your shoulders the moment she arrived. 

Shadowheart did what she did best lately, give dirty looks at Astarion from in the background. She had her head on your shoulder while Karlach tried to get some sort of response out of you. Shadowheart took her turn with her own line of questions when all Karlach could get was a pained look on your face. But there you were in the center of them making him sick again. 

Astarion couldn’t handle himself as you cried. Never in his life had he so quickly regretted saying something to someone, let alone someone he grew so fond of. He felt worse as found himself noting how pretty you looked with tears down you face. All you needed was a break, maybe another night to yourself and right now he would give you all of them if he could help it. But he couldn’t, he never could. Astarion had to be sure that you were still on his side, and that you’d be waiting for him in his corner as though standing up for him in Moonrise Towers wasn’t enough. 

Worry grew as Astarion thought about freedom of choice, and how much time had passed from the Tiefling party. You repeatedly declined his advances to have sex again, but he hadn’t made any significant or particularly tempting advances. In fact, he didn’t want to. Until now, he didn’t think he had to. In-between what he knew and what he wanted, Astarion wasn’t sure he would truly feel better if you just used his body like he needed you to. But if you wanted to, he would let you. It would be fair. It would make everything easier. It was what he thought he deserved. But there you were in front of him, reminding him that all he had to do was ask and it was his. He knew that if he said that aloud you would convince him otherwise, even if you had to do it sobbing. 

That’s exactly how you made everything harder. Without your hands, without a leash, and without control, you had successfully made him care. When exactly that had started, Astarion couldn’t be sure but it was unsettlingly that the feeling crept in without a sound after he was so sure about having his heart set on using you. Maybe it started as selfishly as all things start, where wanting part of someone becomes needing everything else, they were. When being protected meant taking care his protector and being feed meant cleaning up after. Astarion wanted to switch roles to take care of you for once, he just didn’t know how to yet. 

Shadowheart was about to call Gale over when you finally moved to wipe away your tears with the sleeves of your top were pulled over your palms. “Please don’t.” You pleaded with a nervous grin. “It’s nothing.” 

“It is clearly not nothing.” Shadowheart squeezed your arms, her chin bouncing on your shoulder as she spoke. “You know you can talk to me. Or Karlach.” The Tiefling had her hands on her knees, crouching and nodding while Shadowheart spoke. “Or I can go grab La’zael but I don’t actually know what she would do for you. I don’t think she’s ever cried in her life...” 

You let out an estranged laugh at the mention of Lae’zel. Shadowheart and Karlach’s whole demeanor eased up as they laughed with you. Coincidentally, Lae’zel started sharpening a blade which echoed throughout camp and softened the air significantly. Karlach headed to Lae’zel’s tent to have her shut off the wheel, Shadowheart kept her arm around your neck, guiding you behind Karlach. Astarion watched as each breath hiccupped in your shoulders, ignoring Lae’zel’s blunt form of comfort while he left to accompany Gale. 

“You know Astarion,” he slowly stirred the strew from the very bottom of the pot to keep anything from sticking and burning. “She keeps a close eye on you when we’re out.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Astarion couldn't even try to pretend he meant that. 

“I’m not trying to be. As cold as you are, no pun intended, I think most of us can tell she has a keen interest in your wellbeing, and I would suspect that you maybe return the sentiment.” 

“I’ll have you know that not one of those earlier statements is funny or true.” Astarion tried to be coy. “Especially not now.” 

“Deflect all you want my sharp-toothed friend, but I know you do.” Gale poured a bowl for himself, and a second one for Astarion. 

“Don’t sound so sure of yourself.” He eyed the stew. “And Gale that’s just rude.” 

From the corner of his eye, you watched him expectantly, with the same look you had when he drank you up at Light Inn. Shadowheart was shaking her head and rolling her eyes while Lae’zel  spoke. “She doesn’t have to explain anything more. If she wants to sulk right now, let her.” Your Githyanki friend had this way of sounding harsh while looking concerned in her own funny way as she spoke. “Do you need more information to comfort someone you supposedly care for? Are those the teachings of Shar?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Shadowheart huffed. 

You were back and forth, looking between the two while seeming entertained. 

“Astarion, my friend.” Gale held out the bowl to him. “I’m sure you know what I’m doing.” 

He did. “Give me that.” He hissed and swiped your portion of food from Gales hand. 

You watched Shadowheart as she turned to face him. “Astarion.” 

“Shadowheart.”  

“Good evening to you.” She avoided eye contact as she folded her hands. 

Astarion bowed in a gentlemanly manner, tiling his head as he spoke to you. “I come bearing sustenance, my dear.” As you took the warm bowl from his hands Lae’zel tsked, and Karlach gave him a thumbs up despite pursing her lips. 

“I see Gale made stew?” Shadowheart kept curt. 

“I mean, I hope this is stew because if it’s not then I have no idea what she’s about to eat.” Astarion said sarcastically. “Although, in that case it’s better her than me.” 

Astarion couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad sort airy laugh you gave him before you took a bite. But you with a free hand you motioned him to lean in again. You placed the bowl between your lap on the stool to cup his ear with both of your hands. Astarion tried to get a good look at you from the corner of his eye before you left his peripheral. 

“You can feed on me again, if you’d like.” Gods you looked so pretty and venerable. 

“I think…” Astarion thought about your breath and hands on his ear and tried to shake away the thought, “I think we need to talk, later.” 

With the spoon in your mouth, you nodded again. “Okay, later.” You scooped up another bite. 

Shadowheart was about to say something when you put your hand on her arm and shook your head. “I’m good. This is good,” was said so sincerely she didn’t try to fight it. 

Astarion paid no mind to how the others reacted as he turned away to sit in his tent. The night couldn’t drag any slower even if it tried. You had disappeared into your tent after you ate, and so from in his own tent he was left to watch the rest of the weirdos interact and pretend that nothing happened. He stopped listening when Wyll started sharing some heroic tall tale and could only hope that you would still be awake after everyone else had fallen asleep. Truthfully Astarion had no reason to worry, he always found you waiting for him. 

Your lashes were wet as though you just finished crying a second time, or maybe you hadn’t stopped. “You’re early.” You massaged your jaw as you spoke. “Or have I kept you waiting?” 

“You haven’t kept anyone waiting,” he reassured. “And what’s with your jaw?” 

“Just tense.” 

Astarion hummed and squatted onto his ankles. “But you want to feed me anyways.” 

The question caught you off guard. “Yes? Well, if you need to...” 

“Hmm,” Astarion watched the ground. “You know, why do you do that to yourself?” 

“Do what?" He watched as you played with your fingers, squeezing your right hand with your left and had realized that you were studying him. 

“Weren’t you just crying earlier over something I said?” 

“It was more than that.” You caught yourself before you could elaborate and Astarion felt himself growing impatient again. 

“What do you mean more? More how?” 

The tips of your fingers turned white as you continued to squeeze and contort them. “It was just more. Beyond you, and them, and me.” As soon as you looked down at your hands you finally stretched them out in front of you for some relief. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to talk with me?” You pointed to yourself in an awkward attempt to lighten the mood. 

Astarion sucked in his lower lip and sighed. “I did, didn’t I?” 

Astarion stared at you through his lashes as he made his way onto his knees. “My dear, I wanted to talk to you-” A scornful Shadowheart appeared in his head and he winced. “Well. I more wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” Your head shot up from your hands in your lap. “What did I do? You’re being a little mushy on me.” 

“I know, aren’t I full of surprises?” There was a pause as he thought about how to word what he wanted to say next and saw how the silence made you anxious. “But you stood up for me in Moonrise Towers when you didn’t have to, and respected me when I said no. I can’t even remember the last time anyone’s done that for me.” 

“Oh.” You smiled. “Of course.” 

Astarion was unsure of how to explain himself but he wanted to try. “I know I’ve talked about Cazador and the things he made me do. I would use my body to lure in any pretty thing with a pulse and push aside all the disgust that came with it because I had to.” Your hands balled up in your lap. “For a long time, it has felt like that was the only thing I know how to do. Cazador's commands became second nature, his voice still lives in my head. It’s like I forget I’m not under his control. You’ve helped me remember I don’t have to do those awful things anymore.” 

Self-consciously, you hugged yourself at your elbows and took another deep breath in. Your mouth opened to speak but only let all the air out. 

“You can ask me questions.” 

“If it filled you with disgust, if it was awful, then why did you...” You squeezed your eyes shut like you didn’t want to confirm some sinking suspicion. “Why did you sleep with me?” 

Astarion didn’t like your cautious tone. “Why are you asking like that?” 

“No, you just said- why did you sleep with me Astarion?” Your eyes bore into his. “Please just answer.” 

  “I needed you to protect me,” He observed your body as he had been while he spoke. “I needed to ensure you’d never want to leave me.” 

With your palms upright you stared at the space between you two. Astarion waited for you to say something but wasn’t sure what he expected. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear. 

“I hope you know, I would never.” was unexpected, welcome even, but it was not enough to satisfy his guilt. 

“Are you not upset with me?” 

“Do you want me to be?” Your eyes rounded with curiosity. “I just told you that I want you to know I would never leave your side, not willingly I should say.” Your voice trailed off in reflection. “I had never thought to, actually.” 

After centuries of being beaten down, torn apart and stripped of reason, you were just going to tell him that it was, okay? 

Astarion wanted to feel relieved. Astarion wanted to believe you without trembling, without balling his fists over his knees, without something telling him that should know better than to expect understanding. For years he had to get used to knowing that in Cazador's eyes he had always been below forgiveness. Especially the kind that needed no proof of his repentance. 

“What’s wrong?” Your hand fell into view, hovered above his lap and without touching him you guided his chin up so he would face you. 

Once again you were putting yourself aside to comfort him with a face that was drenched in concern. “I feel awful, you know. And you’re making this too easy. I have spent most of our time trying to seduce you, which was easy at first but then you just stopped. You just kept giving without taking which was just what I had hoped for. It was what I wanted- until suddenly it wasn’t.” Astarion shook his head when you nodded in understanding, “You knew it all along, didn’t you?” 

It was maybe a few seconds of silence but it felt like a lifetime while in his self-appointed judgement seat. 

“Not all along.” You looked up thoughtfully, “I didn’t think much of it until you wanted to bed me again." 

“Oh?” His own curiosity spoke cut through the doubt. “What gave me away?” 

“It was when you said,” Astarion winced as you cleared your throat and sat tall to give him a vivid visual of his act. “‘How about I try everyone's favorite? Just three little words? I love you'... Well,” You looked at his lap again, “it’s funny now.” You weakly smiled. Your hands flew over your mouth as your face twisted in embarrassment as Astarions mouth fell slightly open. “I realize that sounds like I wanted you to mean- well no. Yes- wait, no! I-It's not because I,” Your hands fell into your lap before you rolled your head from the ceiling down to him. “The realization hurts, but I guess conformation is worse.” 

Something about you losing your spark flitted across his mind again and without thinking, Astarion leaned in to cup your face tenderly. His cold hands clearly caught you by surprise but you didn’t move away. In his hands he held your swollen bewilderment and kind eyes. He wished he could see what you did in him. “If you’ll let me,” He traced lines over your chin, up to your eyes, the tip of your nose, before he made it back to your gaze. “I would like to have the chance to give you something real.” 

A warm smile in-between repose and disbelief made him weak. Another moment of silence passed as your eyes mapped out his expression. “Oh, shit,” you said with a slow falling simper that made your bottom lip tremble. “You mean that, don’t you...” 

“I do.” He whispered tenderly as his thumb moved to still the shake. “But only if you’ll let me.” 

You closed your eyes and let your head complete relax in his hands. Astarion took this as an opportunity to lift you closed to his face while your brows knitted together in anticipation. Slowly, he placed a kiss on your chin, your left cheek, then your right, before bringing your forehead to his lips. Your hands latched around his wrists as you pressed your head into his right hand. “Does this not bother you-?” 

“Not one bit.” He mirrored you. “But on that note, I think I need more time for intimacy. Or, maybe I don’t want that at all anymore. After everything.” His eyes dropped to your chin. 

“I can wait,” You reassured. “Whether or not that’s in vain. I don’t mind; we don’t have to have sex.” 

Astarion could feel his whole face open as he straightened his posture, and yours. His usual wit and charm were coming back to him. “Well, we’ll see if that proves to be a challenge.” 

You rolled your eyes and were about to pull away when his fingers pressed into your face to keep you still. “Yes?” 

All he could see were your lips, “May I?” 

Astarion was already moving in before you closed the distance. With your lips on his, his hand on the back of your neck, while another cradled your jaw, the only thing he could think about was just how warm you were, how soft and alive you felt on his mouth. But even in his hold he felt like he needed to chase you. You were being too gentle for his taste, too safe on his lips. Astarion was sure you could feel his growing hunger as his hand snaked to the base of your head to hold you by your hair, guiding each kiss with his neck before you finally opened your mouth, inviting him in. 

Still, it wasn’t enough. 

Astarion stood on his knees, not once letting you back away for air as he craned his neck to deepen a kiss that nearly pushed you onto your back. A drawn-out, reverberated whine melted in his ears as you pushed into his waist. But when you let go of him to support yourself, Astarion dragged his teeth on your bottom lip with a final peck before breaking away. You were panting as he sat back on the floor, smiling in his hold as his fingers were still tangled in your hair. Astarion pulled you into his arms, guiding you head into his shoulder before he drew circles on your back. As your heaving slowed, he pressed you flush against his chest like he’ll lose you if he couldn’t feel your heart against his own. “I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” You held him just as tight and that seemed to finally satisfy him. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

Astarion nearly purred when you pecked his neck. “Don’t mention it.” 

© 2024 chimimon

[fashionteahouse]

Hey can I request the paul or embry x reader who's really easily flustered. Like they can't hold someone's and or take a complement without blushing like crazy.

of course 🙂‍↕️💜 hope you enjoy :)

kerosene - embry x reader

Eyes connect and a warm chuckle breathes out. You look away feeling flushed. You pretend to find something out of the restaurant window interesting. You feel an electric touch when your free hand that’s resting on the table is encased into his.

“I want to see your pretty eyes.” he says softly, the butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You slowly turn your head and peek at him through your eyelashes. You catch his face and you see his devotion through his eyes. A burning sensation spread through your cheeks.

“You’re pretty when you blush.” he says with a flirtatious smile.

“Stop it.” you say shyly with a shy smile and look away once again.

“I’m serious.” he says and takes your chin to make your face meet his. His thumb grace the skin thats yours, making its way to caress your cheek and you feel his knees move brush on yours.

This action makes you pull your lip in your teeth.

He breaths out a laugh, “So cute.”

Embry call had an amazing talent of making you starstruck.

You just didn’t know what to do when you were around him. He made you forget your name, he made you constantly flush in the face, and

He opens the door for you to get into his car, you’re flattered.

After driving for some time and stealing glances at you, he speaks out.

“I have something to show you.” he says. You’re excited because you don’t know what he has planned.

“O-okay.” you mutter.

He pulls out an untitled cd disk and inserts it into his car radio. The soft music surrounds the both of you and you feel your face forming into a grin.

He nuzzles your cheek with so much affection that it makes you feel like you’ve been lit by a match. He pulls something out and your heart beats wildly.

He hands it to you and watches you, you feel nervous as you take it. Your fingers touch his and it feels like you’re burning up.

You open it up and it’s a handmade bracelet with a wolf charm. You look up to him, surprised and amazed at this such gift.

He’s sporting a lax smile, “Did you read what it says?”

You look down, carefully reading the ingrained text that displays around the bracelet.

FOREVER

”Embry…” you start but you’re genuinely lost for words. A blush spread across your cheeks, appreciating that this person who cares so much about you, who clearly loves you, took the time to put much thought it this.

He takes it and unclasp the jewelry and makes sure it’s fitting around your wrist. It fits perfectly, just as he imagined it would.

“You like it?” he asks, capturing your eye to catch your reaction.

You look down and nod, “I love it.”

He places a hand on your knee and you immediately flush.

“I love you.” he says fluidly.

Face still burning, flustered at this profound declaration.

“I love you too.”

[anzyll]

For my next post, I thought I'd ramble about something random and uninteresting; so there's not particularly anything new going on. The second area of my game is an underground city inside of a Labyrinth, heavily inspired by Greek mythology. While it's inspired by Greece, it's also heavily inspired by typical nightlife shenanigans, shady dealings -- an entire city of back alleys. I've drawn inspiration from a lot of things for this area, and it's definitely the most dense thing I've ever made, not just with content, but also with characters I love and really want to be able to show other people. So for this little spotlight blog, I decided to choose the two I was working on right now: Lazlo and Brock.

Now, Brock and Lazlo aren't anything particularly standout, as far as characters go, but that makes me feel like they exemplify the standard. They're not mindblowers, they just dudes. I made them in around 2019-ish. It was notably before the Techbro boom in popularity, which I will try to avoid naming for fear of bots and blocked words. I thought it would be really funny to have two guys in a basement somewhere, mining some coins, just totally lame dudes. Brock, the orange-haired one, was originally called Bob Musk, which in the current day and age would be just the corniest overused joke ever. The name Bob came from YouTuber Muyskerm, who I felt he somewhat resembled. His surname, Fuller, is a parody of Ferris Bueller, and his titular Day Off. Brock Fuller is sort of a corruption + jumble of Ferris Bueller, who kind of exemplifies the devil-may-care attitude of the residents of the city of Labyrinth that Brock lives in. I wanted to make a character who would attack you with a calculator; doubling and subtracting stats and HP, adding buffs, dividing damage, etc. When I was a kid I imagined having "calculator powers" once or twice in math class -- my fault for reading so much Rick Riordan. Percy Jackson's weird pen sword probably rubbed off a lot on me, gave me a great appreciation of both Greek culture AND urban fantasy, both of which play in heavily to this area. For Brock's clothes, I wanted to do a sort of "business casual" look, like someone who doesn't know how to dress but is trying to look professional. For colours, the orange hair came naturally, but I just knew I had to give him Joker colours for his shirt and tie.

Good old purple and green. The Joker (2019) movie was still rather new at the time, and all of the memes had me thinking about it. 'Course, I've never actually WATCHED Joker (2019), but I don't think he wears purple in the film, so my brain kinda autocorrected to Heath Ledger's. Better design either way, if you ask me. Techbros and Joker go together like arson and kerosene. Lazlo is comparatively more simple. I really wanted to give him one of those "not really a tuxedo" t-shirts. They're so incredibly lame, but also so incredibly charming at the same time, it really screams "nerdy 20-something" to me.

His face was on a whim, I can't recall exactly what inspired me for that sort of "teeth hanging off the bottom of a top lip" overbite sort of look, but if I had to guess it was probably at least partially Futurama.

My art was subconsciously influenced by the stupid mouth shape that Matt Groening makes an unfortunate amount around the time, it always pissed me off because I don't ACTUALLY like how it looks. It took a lot of restraint to sort of pull back my art style from this big-lip sorta overbite exaggeration that was really common in my circles at the time, and Laz is a product of that, but one of the few that I think I actually nailed in regards to it. That said, it's very possible that I just accidentally and unintentionally ripped it from something I can't name at the moment. His name however, was directly inspired by Camp Lazlo; wow, we're 3 for 3 on references to things I've never watched. I think all I know about Camp Lazlo is that at the end they reveal that one of the main characters was a fraud from an insane asylum the whole time, which is definitely the kind of energy I vibe with for gags. With his face, I felt like he'd fit in on that show... and also maybe if he was an animal of some kind. His surname, Doherty, was just the surname of someone I used to know IRL as a kid. He looks kinda similar to my old friend in some ways, though thankfully not due to his ungodly overbite. For Lazlo's power, I believe I was heavily inspired by Shin from Dorohedoro, due to this panel where Shin cuts off his arms to find the "magical smoke veins" inside of them.

(Smoke in Dorohedoro, for those uninitiated, allows the user to perform magic.) I thought it was interesting that Shin could just do this and get away with it. It occurs in a flashback, in a world with magic, so it's clear when he cuts his arms off that they'll come back, but it's still quite an impressive stunt to perform surgery on yourself like this. How the fuck did he even cut off the second arm? Isn't one arm enough? I couldn't tell you, but it leaves quite the impression. Back on topic though, I thought it was quite interesting to have a character based on this and "phantom pain", where you can still feel the limb as if it's still there, despite it not being. So, Lazlo can emit smoke from where his arm was severed, and use it to create a new giant arm made entirely of smoke. I assume if he were to lose a second arm or leg or such, it would also be replaced with smoke. Maybe if he was decapitated, he'd survive with a smoke head, sort of like an Elsen from OFF.

It is the most important element, after all. I do enjoy portraying people with disabilities rather normally, and Lazlo is a nice usage of that. I really enjoy having him wave with his missing arm, for example. Makes the world feel a bit more real to me.

That's right fuckos, I lured you in with 5 consecutive smaller posts about women, and then sucker punched you with a literal essay about my WEIRD LITTLE MEN. ...Sorry.

[riszellira]

Memorial of Saint Barnabas, Apostle

Reflection: Missing the Light

I was thirteen years old when I experienced one of the worst typhoons I can remember on the night between October 18 and 19, 1985. For months after that, there was no electricity and water. I had to bring pails and other containers and line up with the men and women of the neighborhood to fetch water from a hand pump. Classes resumed even if there was no electricity. To make matters worse, it was the time for quarterly examinations. I remembered our school principal saying: “Try to get used to studying by the light of the candles or kerosene lamps. Jose Rizal became successful in the same way.” And we all laughed.

But, indeed, it was difficult. It went on like that until one afternoon in December, when it was almost time for Christmas vacation, I tried switching on the lights and discovered that there was electricity. Our faces were bright that evening, enjoying the light that we had missed for about two months.

We came to appreciate the light that night and the days that followed because we had yearned for it for a long time. Even if we had become used to the darkness or insufficient light, there was always room to hope for more illumination.

There are two possibilities that may happen when it comes to missing the light: either we get used to it and no longer look for it, or we yearn for it and it gives us joy with its brilliance.

Jesus told His disciples that we are the light of the world. Have we gotten used to the insufficient light given by others? Are we missing the light that should be shining? If each of us take seriously the call to be light to others, then we will have a bright world.

~Fr. Joel Camaya, SDB

How do you let your light shine? Do you also help others to shine by bringing out the best in them?

Lord, let me give You glory as I shine Your light. Amen.

Prayer

… for a deep and profound respect for life, especially for the unborn.

… for the strength and healing of the sick.

… for the healing and peace of all families.

Finally, we pray for one another, for those who have asked our prayers and for those who need our prayers the most.

GOD BLESS!

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Developing Relationship Masterlist

blind at the roots of flowers (ao3) - merlypops calum/ashton T, 3k

Summary: 'Everything was dark and cold but the older boy’s hands were warm in his, calloused and strong from years of playing the drums. Calum liked the way Ashton’s hazel eyes glittered in the lights at the station as they sat on the benches in the evenings after college, waiting for their train to come in. (Sometimes, Calum wished the pair of them had stayed like that, back before everything had crumbled to pieces.)'

All Calum wants is for Ashton to love him back. Only, when it happens, things don't quite go as planned.

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) (ao3) - fakecharliebrown luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 16k (WIP)

Summary: Ash US > Wakey wakey eggs and bakey

Luke US > lose my number

or; in which Luke and Ashton take on the world, fall in love, and pine for far, far longer than is socially acceptable. In that order.

my only weakness (you know all my secrets) (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) michael/ashton T, 8k

Summary: Michael is having a hard time figuring out if the amount of vampire jokes and references is due to Ashton knowing his deepest, darkest secret, or if that's just his sense of humor.

rebound feelin' like a rerun (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton T, 33k

Summary: “Alright what the fuck?” Michael shouts, dropping himself down in the open corner of the couch. “What the fuck?” he says again, leaning forward on his knees, staring at Ashton across the room.

Ashton just shrugs. “He left me.”

The lack of emotion in his voice is concerning, completely free of the bubbling laughter and attitude filled charm that normally coats his words. It’s just empty, sort of bitter but mostly void of feeling, like he’s detached himself from the situation completely.

“But why?” Luke finds himself saying.

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Roses Laid upon your Bedspread (ao3) - tigerlily_sunshine michael/luke G, 1k

Summary: Luke didn’t know where to put his feet. It was an odd conundrum, admittedly, but he liked to curl up in bed in as tiny of a ball as his long limbs would let him and sleep the night away. The problem was that he was used to sleeping all alone in his big bed back home. This wasn’t his big bed. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t sure if he called this place home yet—if he was allowed to call this place home yet.

(In which Luke sleeps in Michael's bed for the very first time, but he has trouble with the falling asleep part.)

something real (ao3) - jbhmalum calum/ashton M, 22k

Summary: The first time Calum Hood shows up on his doorstep, it’s the last thing Ashton expects. He’s as unprepared for it as he would be for a snowstorm in the middle of the summer. That’s what Calum is to him that night. A storm coming to disturb his peaceful life, filling him with adrenaline and a bit of fear at the uncertainty of what could happen.

So press me down, 'til I scream. If you're the flame, I'm kerosene. (ao3) - lifeinecstasy ot4 T, 4k

Summary: Switching POVs. Drunk!Luke, 2014!Luke.

taste the colors in the air you breathe (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton M, 23k

Summary: “And you are?” Ashton says, a strange smugness bleeding into his tone. Luke can’t hold back a slight snarl of his lip. He really doesn’t like Ashton already for absolutely no reason.

But even if he isn’t a fan of Ashton’s, Luke can’t help but appreciate how attractive the guy is. His dyed hair falls loosely over his forehead in waves, curling slightly on rogue strands. His sun kissed skin shines under the warm sunlight filtered through the large windows adjacent to the door. Even across the room, Luke can see the way his hazel eyes exude excitement as they stare him down. Luke wants to paint using just the color palette of his very being.

“Luke,” he offers plainly before returning right back to his failed painting in front of him.

Tempest (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum, luke/ashton E, 314k

Summary: Calum’s best friends are falling apart, Mali is gone, and Calum just wants to be perfect.

The Upside of Everything Wrong (ao3) - orphan_account michael/calum, luke/calum, luke/ashton N/R, 24k

Summary: “Well we’ve always kind of deviated, don’t you think?” He says with a sly little smile that metaphorically knocks Calum on his ass. His face turns red again, and why, why is Michael doing this to him? “I do think that.” He whispers. He leans a bit closer to Michael, and lets his head rest against the boy’s shoulder. “But this isn’t a date.”

or the one where Calum's been betrayed by everyone he's put trust in, and believes he's unlovable until Michael appears, and shows Calum just how easy being loved can be

thirsty (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 7k

Summary: Is he putting on a show for Calum? Rolling his head side to side, stretching his neck. Letting his thumb graze the side of his glass gently while it dangles from his ringed fingers. Gleaming eyes flicking to Calum for long, loaded moments. Biting his bottom lip between his teeth while he gives his full attention to the person he’s talking to. Except it’s not quite his full attention, because a little slice is reserved for toying with Calum.

we'll never be as young as we are now (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: Ashton feels like everything is slipping through his fingers, and he needs Luke, Michael and Calum more than he's ever needed anyone.

you can hear it in the silence (ao3) - fakecharliebrown luke/ashton T, 23k

Summary: Ashton turns to look at Luke then. He doesn’t speak right away, appearing to consider his next words very carefully. He opens and closes his mouth several times, before finally, he says, “Do you think it’ll all work out for us?”

Luke hums softly. His head is angled in such a way that Petunia imagines he’s looking at their intertwined hands behind his dark sunglasses when he admits in a quiet voice, “I think it already has, Ash.”

Ashton squints at him for less than a second before he turns to face forward, closing his eyes against the bright afternoon sun, and says, “Yeah. I think you’re probably right.”

or; Petunia loves her boy more than anything in the world. When the world shuts down, she realizes that she might not be the only one.

You Know We Got It Right (ao3) - HecticHemmings michael/luke G, 2k

Summary: Michael didn't realize that when he told his daughter that they would find another pretty thing once they got to their gate, that it was going to be a boy.

Or, single dad!Mikey meets aspiring musician!Luke on a plane back to Sydney and they bond over a mutual love for Michael's daughter.

your string of lights is still bright to me (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum, bryana/ashton, luke/omc E, 81k

Summary: Michael is struggling to be the father his daughters need. Until he meets Calum again.

[werindialive]

PM Modi addresses ‘Viksit Bharat Viksit Goa 2047’, appreciates the social diversity in the state

On Tuesday PM Modi addressed the ‘Viksit Bharat Viksit Goa 2047’ public meeting in South Goa’s Margao where he called the saturation of government welfare schemes as a mark of “true secularism and social justice”.

Addressing the meeting, the Prime Minister said, “In Goa, there is 100 percent coverage of water connections (har ghar jal se nal), electricity connections, domestic LPG coverage…The state is kerosene-free, open-defecation-free. In (implementation of) many schemes of the Central government, Goa has achieved 100 percent saturation.”

“…We know when there is saturation, discrimination ends and all the benefits are transferred to the beneficiaries. People do not have to pay bribes for their rights. I say this repeatedly that…saturation hi sacha secularism hai, saturation hi sacha saamajik nyaay hai, aur yehi saturation…Goa ko, desh ko…Modi ki guarantee hai (saturation is true secularism, saturation is real social justice and this saturation is Modi’s guarantee to Goa and the country),” he added.

Prime Minister also lauded the spirit of the people of Goa and said that despite being a small state in terms of population and area, Goa features great diversity, and “people of different societies and religions have been co-existing in peace for many generations”.

“So, when people of Goa repeatedly elect the BJP government, the message goes out to the entire country…That BJP’s mantra is ‘sabka saath, sabka vikaas’. Some parties in the country have always done politics of spreading fear and lies, but Goa has given a befitting reply to such parties and it has done so repeatedly,” he said.

The PM also accused the previous governments of not having the right vision to develop the coastal area and islands saying, “India has always been rich in terms of nature, culture, and heritage. People across the world travel to different countries for different types of tourism. Every form of tourism is available in our country, on a single visa. But the government that was in power before 2014 did not pay attention to these aspects. Several tourist places remained ‘gumnaam’ (unknown) because of lack of access to good roads, trains, and airports. We have made an attempt to remove these shortcomings in the last 10 years.”

For more national news India in Hindi, subscribe to our newsletter.

[myspaceisra]

𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒

— 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

hey everyone ! by reading call of duty fanfictions, I was inspired and I would like to help writers who are struggling to find code names for their character (whether for y/n [the reader] or for original characters) !

here then is a list of codenames (with their definition, their meaning and what they reflect of the person who has it, arranged in alphabetical order) :

* there are feminine, masculine and neutral names ! mostly neutral.

« 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 » !

collar [noun.] : an ornamental chain or string of

beads, jewels, or links worn round

the neck.

[verb.] : to kill someone by putting a

burning rubber tyre around their

neck.

– the person who bears this name (here a woman, because of the funfact of this code name below), could have a soft and welcoming apparence (according to others). She is literally sweet, very calm, rather unsociable and a little shy, but who nevertheless knows how to get out of her comfort zone and be an excellent ally: faithful, efficient and always there for the good moment. We consider ourselves lucky to have her and we do not want to lose her (in anyway, no matter what relationship we have with her).

– Fun fact! : This code name is taken from « She’s my collar », the name of one of Gorillaz and Kali Uchis' songs (two artists I love. This song is a featuring they made together.). In the song, the "collar" was very important and necessary, we can’t hate her. We always end up coming back to her, no matter how ok you try to get away from her. She's literally the collar.

« 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 » !

crown [noun.] : a circular ornamental headdress

worn by a monarch as a symbol

of authority, usually made of or

decorated with precious metals

and jewels.

[noun.] : the top or highest part of

something.

– i don’t really have a personality ideas of the person who would bear this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion). However, I think the code name itself says a lot about the role of the person wearing it: they would probably be someone in charge, leading a group.

– Fun fact! : ‘Crown’ is the name of one of Freddie Dredd's songs (an artist I appreciate very much. my favorite song from him is Witness.)

« 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 » !

faith [noun.] : strong belief in the doctrines of a

religion, based on spiritual

conviction rather than proof.

[noun.] : complete trust or confidence in

someone or something.

• synonym: trust.

– i think the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), is a person you can trust, who covers everyone's backs. They’re a good right arm, and very chill person.

« 𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐄 » !

kerosene [noun.] : a clear liquid with a strong

smell made from coal or

petroleum and used as a fuel

in jet engines or heaters and

lights.

– the person who bears this name (regardless of gender, this one is neutral in my opinion), as its definition implies, is important is useful, being the engine, the energy of something. so I would imagine a leader (of squad or whatever) having it.

– Fun fact! : Kerosene is the name of one of Crystal Castles' songs (one of my favorite musical band. my favorite song from them is Untrust us.)

– For people who would find this name long, Keros (which would come from « kerosene ») or Kero (which sounds like the word « hero ») simply are also very good !

« 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 » !

leather [noun.] : a material made from the skin

of an animal by tanning or a

similar process.

– i don’t really have a personality ideas of the person who would bear this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion, but I would see more of a woman with it!), to be honest.. I am sorry. This code name just reminded of the names « Lea » and « Luther ».

Do not hesitate to explain your ideas about it in the comment section.

« 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 » !

rain [noun.] : the condensed moisture of the

atmosphere falling visibly in

separate drops.

– the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), is a very stoic person, but not necessarily unsociable. We don’t really know what we think of them : they’re like something that falls suddenly without warning and which makes you sick if you do nothing, which can do good or harm (they reflect what rain is, so).

– Fun fact! : Rain (in the pronunciation) looks like the word « Reine » in French which means queen.

« 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐌 » !

realm [noun.] : a kingdom.

[noun.] : a field or domain of activity or

interest.

– i don’t really have a personality ideas of the person who would bear this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion, but I would see more of a woman with it!), to be honest.. I am sorry.

Do not hesitate to explain your ideas about it in the comment section.

« 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 » !

siren [noun.] : in greek mythology, a woman

whose song lured unwary sailors

to the rocks.

[noun.] : a device that makes a loud

prolonged signal or warning sound.

– the person who bears this name (rather a woman because of the first definition) is not referred to her charm, her physical appearance, but to her ability to deceive the enemy and to mope in the decor, in the role she plays. this name would therefore go well with a spy (or a traitor, it depends on the point of view of the relations that this woman has with others).

« 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍 » !

thorn [noun.] : a stiff, sharp-pointed woody

projection on the stem or other

part of a plant.

– the person who bears this name (this one is neutral in my opinion, but I would see more of a men with it!), is a dangerous person. this name is given to him by his bloody parlmaress and his modus operandi that sends shivers down your spine. this name is therefore given to him more for their activities than his person itself.

« 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏 » !

vamp [noun.] : a woman who is confident that

she is attractive to men makes

use of it in order to get what she

wants, who uses her charm or

wiles to seduce and exploit men.

– the person who bears this name (here a woman because of the definition) is not referred to her charm, her physical appearance, but to her ability to deceive the enemy and to mope in the decor, in the role she plays. this name would therefore go well with a spy (or a traitor, it depends on the point of view of the relations that this woman has with others).

« 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 » !

weather [noun.] : the state of the atmosphere at

a particular place and time as

regards heat, cloudiness,

dryness, sunshine, wind, rain,

etc.

[verb.] : wear away or change the

appearance or texture of

(something) by long exposure to

the atmosphere.

– the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), could be someone who is lunatic, does things well (although sometimes acts on a whim), and who adapts to any situation. They are easy-going and stubborn at the same time and likes to be in control of anything ! So I see this person being a leader, an example, someone we like to follow, ect, despite their flaws.

– Fun fact! : Weather is the name of one of Freddie Dredd's songs (an artist I appreciate very much. my favorite song from him is Witness.)

« 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 » !

worth [noun.] : the level at which someone or

something deserves to be valued

or rated.

[adj.] : sufficiently good, important, or

interesting to be treated or

regarded in the way specified.

– the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), is someone you trust. they’re a moralizer, someone who puts people in their place when necessary, who always has the right words.

« 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 » !

wraith [noun.] : a ghost or ghostlike image of

someone, especially one seen

shortly before or after their

death.

• synonym: spectre, ghost.

[noun.] : a wisp or faint trace of

something.

– the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), is someone you trust. they’re a moralizer, someone who puts people in their place when necessary, who always has the right words.

« 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 » !

youth [noun.] : the period between childhood

and adult age.

– the person who bears this name (gender doesn't matter, this one is neutral in my opinion), as its definition implies, is just young (but not a minor). I would imagine the person who has this code name to be the youngest person in the group they are in.

𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃 !

𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘���� 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍

𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

( 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 ‘𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙’ 💋 )

© 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐀 ! 2022

[kalinawtokilig]

A Silly S/O that shares one braincell with his best friend

Who doesn’t love a silly, goofy, S/O?

Pair(s) : Akaashi x Reader, Kenma x Reader, Suna x Reader, Kunimi x Reader

(((Ahhhhhahhh bruhhh I literally put the dying inside parted hair dark beauties here,,, ✨ blessing it ✨)))

{This is my first time doing headcanons,, i apologize as it is very early morning and i dont sleep so i may be passing out as soon as i post this ahahahhahahaahha))))) 

{Akaashi Keiji x Reader} 

(Ohh shi- Aight, we startin off with setters huh)

------

To be fair, Akaashi met you through Bokuto, you chaotic duo, whilst Bokuto being a particularly sunny, bubbly guy, its fair he’s friends with someone as goofy as him 

It’s like,,, one of those kinds of friendships you have with Akaashi, whenever you guys are seated next to each other for a group project or simply having a one-on-one convo, you seem to have enraptured him with how funny you are

for example, you being a silly person, you seem to have gotten into a argument with Bokuto, seeing as there was only one braincell, thus being you as the only braincell between the two of you, a juicebox and two of you being dumbasses,,, You proposed to Bokuto to poke a straw through the box so you both can drink from either ends of the straw,,,while bokuto,,, proposed of cutting,,,the juice box,, in half,,, to share,,, 

(No cap, i saw my brother and friend argue and do this,,, it was a waste of a caprisun and i had to drink wine to forget that this is what I put up wit,,,yet i recorded it

Akaashi may have facepalmed when you told him this, but the genuine look of truth and kindness made him soft for you when you continued about your small mishaps 

This mans smiles faintly, so when you talk about a joke or something stupidly funny, he can’t help but have a full on smile, cause you speak so passionately about your small and oblivious situations you keep getting yourself into and the endearing solutions you have

when you get together, it’s no boring life at all

Akaashi is always there to rope you in when things get too hectic, especially around Bokuto, but when its you, he can’t help but grin at how bright you can be when you think of funny ideas for today and the next day

Kozume Kenma x Reader

(OHH SHI- another pretty setter, lucky day :3c)

---------

Ohhh boi this is gonna be so many jokes

You and Kuroo share a braincell, that being annoying Kenma ((That’s what Kuroo thinks at least)) 

Kenma never can get a break,, you being the manager of Nekoma and being good friends with Kuroo, even Yaku is getting a headache

Kenma looks forward to you talking to him ((He finds you genuinely interesting when you pointed out a creative way - more like a newfounded loophole - to one of his video games,, he got kinda hooked on you when you kept telling him possible ways to beat the boss using a weak weapon,, he thought you were buggin,,, nah,, he won and trusted your somewhat foolish advice,,, beating up a miniboss with a stick that had been leveled up from being used worked,,, he doesn’t know what goes on your mind,,, but he wants to know more)))

You tell Kenma funny jokes about the newest character in the game he’s playing, not to mention your own headcanons about them

Kuroo joins in, much to Kenma’s dismay, but with a small smile he likes seeing you enjoy yourself as you talk odd with his best friend

You call him alot of nicknames due to his hair and attitude 

“Aye,, wassup puddinghead?” - “Lil’Calico, how’s it hangin?” - “Tiramisu cup, ya lookin sweet today!” 

Its,, really cute how you think of him, make up nicknames and have this real attitude when you see him

Kuroo kinda ruins them tho, adding an annoying comment about the nickname and Kenma S C O W L S 

OHHHH When you ask him on a date, you use the most creative one liner 

“Instead of me being support how bout I join your party and be your player 2? We’ll use Kuroo as a support, Rooster-Attack!” 

*cue adorable pose*

-Kuroo in the back : “ROOSTER, WHO YOU CALLING ROOSTER YOU-”

You start attacking him with chemistry insult and he dodges it with another chem attack

Kenma has never been so flustered nor entertained before

Overall, Kenma believes that you being a cute, silly, s/o is literally the best thing that has ever happened to him,, (Besides meeting Shoyo of course,, but then again,, that’s always the best thing that can happen to anyone, have you seen that boy’s harem?) 

Suna Rintaro x Reader

((ooooo,,,, man,,,, this mans,,,, he got me,,,, everywhere,,, lmao i pimp him and he isn’t the only one))) 

-------

Suna ,, I pimp you 

OH GAWD, the MIYA TWINS

It’s like,,, an extra Miya,,, but more like,, cousin instead of sibling Miya but still family Miya,, ya get me????

You transferred in during your second year and man,,, having Atsumu and Osamu pushing you to be their manager,,, its been trouble ever since,, even Aran cannot handle the amount of boondoggle that happens in practice

Okay, listen, you, YOU, are the type to be silly, yes, but in a way that makes Atsumu and Osamu start arguing over something silly you said and the twins start fighting because they started to drift somewhere else. 

Basically you drench the kerosene, light it, and leave it for the twins to fan the flames,, they are rolling and causing chaos

You and Suna always record it to blackmail them

Not to mention, you being the wacky person you are, you rope the twins into your shit,,, 

Since your last name is NOT Miya, but your other parent’s name, many of Atsumu’s fangirls don’t,, appreciate you 

You can’t help but dangle funny insults towards your ego-filled cousin, having the fangirls wreak havoc and chase you around

you would and can stop,, buts its too funny seeing them get mad over silly things like how you perceive Atsumu to be an ugly sleeper that farts and wakes up from it (( You lived it as kids when you and your family slept over the twins’ place, Osamu and you have many videos of it)) 

Suna is usually the one hiding you away from the rabid fans who seem to want to defend Atsumu’s perfect image honor. 

This man cannot fathom the amount of trouble you get into sometimes, esp. with the twins

When you two get together, you think of the most diabolical and hysterical plans, Suna there to record and by your side when things start to get out of hand

Suna doesn’t express many emotions, but when you finally get him to show a reaction cause of something you did, whether it be a joke or starting a Miya Twins brawl, he can’t help but have the small ghost of a smile when you’re not looking

Kunimi Akira x Reader

(((ooo another parted hair dark male,, Me likeyy))) 

-----------

You and Kindaichi are like,, a mesh of puns and anger 

Puns on your side and Anger on Kindaichi’s side

For Kunimi, he finds it entertaining, the dynamic you two have 

Though Kunimi doesn’t express emotions as much, ((like the other parted hair babes)) he likes to fan the flames to see his best friend angry 

Kindaichi doesn’t get ‘Mad’, he knows its for jokes,,, it’s just,,, your way of thinking can be so mind blowing that he doesn’t know how some of the things go your way it makes him want to know but he gets annoyed when you tease him about it 

Kunimi likes to see the way your accomplished smile shines, despite having silly pranks or stupid puns, you seem to get his type of humor 

you like to play jokes on Kindaichi, usually poking him when he’s not looking that he jumps out of his skin and he pokes you back and you poke him back, then it becomes a poking war and Kunimi steps to side to see you laugh and when you accidentally poke Kindachi too hard in the gut, he topples over and gives you the finger 

You say something among the lines, “Me? If anything, I won and you’re just salty, like that blond beanpole from Karasuno. Right, Kunimi?” 

Kunimi, I feel, isn’t the type to full out laugh, but snort or hide his laugh with a scoff behind his hand,, you know,,, like all these other men seem to do,, i get that vibe from them 

Dating, nothing changes but the teasing from your side is not overwhelming, yet its not underwhelming,, its actually a good wavelength to match with his own retorts 

Kunimi doesn’t hate that you rope him into your schemes, no matter how ridiculous, if it means he gets to see you smile and look at him with those crinkled eyes that seem to glow with joy,,, he doesn’t mind the effort (But he won’t tell you that) 

----------

((Ngl, this is kinda hard,, yet I tried lmao) 

[himikiyo]

kerosene lemonade // himikiyo week day 4

Himikiyo Week Day 4: Soulmates + Enemies

“Oh my, I suppose you’ve caught me, haven’t you?” Shinguuji asks languidly, gazing up at her. “But what will you do now with me at your mercy?”

The group decides that Korekiyo, a known murderer, can't be allowed to move freely around the academy. Himiko ends up as their guard.

Read on AO3, DRA, or under the cut.

“We aren’t trying to be cruel,” Himiko says weakly, head pounding from the frustration of having had this same conversation several times already. “It’s not like that. It’s just for everyone’s safety.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Shinguuji responds, just as she expected. Just as they had all the previous times. “Or is it just what you’re attempting to convince yourselves of? From an outsider’s perspective, I wouldn’t call your actions anything resembling merciful. Particularly not Momota-kun and Iruma-san’s.” They shift slightly and wince at the movement. Himiko can’t say for certain whether it’s staged.

“I...I don’t agree with the way they did things, but...” She trails off, hands subconsciously bunching into fists at her sides. The tension is unbearable, and she can’t entirely figure out why yet.

Shinguuji breaks the pattern. In their earlier conversations, they goaded her further, trying to coax out a slip of the tongue or contradiction in her views. Now, they don’t respond verbally at all, bringing a hand to their side. They look at her, eyes cold and calculating. Trying to guess at her reaction? They must be satisfied with what they find, because they tear their gaze away from her. A bandaged hand hitches up their jacket and shirt just enough to inspect a truly nasty bruise blooming along their side.

It’s more of a contusion, really, already a sickly, mottled pattern of black and blue despite being less than a day old. It’s hard to be sure without getting closer, but she can almost make out a bootprint. She must make a sound without meaning to, a gasp or similar, because their eyes immediately shoot over to her again and they rearrange their clothes to hide the injury.

“Am I restricted from whatever passes for medical care in this place?” they ask, voice deadly sharp.

“Wh— Of course not,” she insists. “I keep telling you, it’s not like that. Not for me anyway. The only reason I volunteered to be the one watching you in the first place was—” She cuts herself off, looking away.

“Was what?”

She didn’t (still doesn’t) want something like that to happen again. Iruma kicking them, Momota getting in a good punch. No matter what Shinguuji did, that kind of thing isn’t warranted. Not if they have any desire to keep the moral high ground. She doesn’t say that though, reticent to admit to anything that could be interpreted as fondness for them.

“No one’s stopping you from taking care of it,” she mutters instead. “Do you want ice?”

“You aren’t afraid I might find a way to escape while you’re gone?” They bat their eyelashes in mocking innocence, seemingly exchanging the spitefulness for that. Ever since the trial, their behavior is far more unpredictable than before. Whether they are unable or simply unwilling to rein themselves in again, it’s hard for her to say.

“You know what’ll happen if you do.” She doesn’t take pleasure in threatening them, but it’s the truth. The rest of their surviving classmates would gladly heap more intense forms of punishment on them if given half a chance, save perhaps Gonta.

“Only if I’m found.”

“You think you’ll be able to hide forever? I doubt it.” She doesn’t realize exactly what she said until they point it out.

“Forever, hm? Does that mean you’ve given up on any hope of us escaping this place?”

“I...I don’t know. That’s not the point.”

“Then would you be so kind as to clarify what the point is, if not that?” Their hand cups their cheek in a familiar gesture, though something about it seems to be done more gingerly than usual. That would make sense. Momota punched them pretty hard.

“The point is you aren’t going to figure out a way to sneak out when I’m not looking. Right?”

The way they slump against their desk slightly is, she figures, the closest to agreement she’s going to get.

She nods despite the lack of response, double checking her pocket for the key before stepping out. Iruma had been the one to modify their door to be lockable from the outside, allowing them to be imprisoned in their own dorm room. As the one on watch, so to speak, Himiko has custody of the key, control over their ability to participate in the miniature society the rest of the academy has become.

She doesn’t like having that much control over them, she realizes. Something about it is tantalizing and sickening all at once.

By the time she gets back with an ice pack, painkillers, and a nighttime snack, Shinguuji has moved from the desk to the bed and no farther. They barely look up when she enters, displaying no desire to pull any tricks like forcing their way through while the door is open. Her stomach twists.

“I brought the ice,” she says uselessly, setting everything down on the edge of the desk before backing away. She doesn’t dare get too close to the bed, like there’s a force field keeping her away.

“More than that, it seems.” Their eyes track her movement, stopping on the plate of food. It isn’t much, just what she could grab in the last moments before the dining hall closed for the night. Hardly anyone had dinner after the trial — no appetite.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbles. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Shinguuji’s hand drifts up in the direction of their face, then pauses.

“Your hospitality is appreciated. However, I think it’s time for you to go get some sleep, yes? Surely our friends,” and she thinks they put a special emphasis on that word just to get under her skin, “don’t expect you to watch over me all night.”

They expect exactly that, actually, but Himiko can tell what they’re trying to say. She can see the way their fingers hover near the edge of their mask. They weren’t executed, but they killed Chabashira all the same. They bragged about all the other girls they killed before, the ones they hope to kill in the future. They included her. There’s no reason to show them mercy.

“You’re right,” she says. “I’m feeling kind of tired.”

“Good night, Yumeno-san.”

---

She volunteers to supervise them again the next day, acquiescing to only a few hours off in the morning before going right back to guard duty in the afternoon. The others assume that her desire to take on this work is to avenge Chabashira. She doesn’t correct them.

A night’s rest has done nothing positive for Shinguuji’s demeanor. If anything, they seem even more unhinged in the daylight, every bit the part of someone who committed murder barely 24 hours ago.

“Hey,” she says as she lets herself in, hoping the lackluster greeting does a little to mitigate the surprise. Maybe she should have knocked first even though they can’t actually let her in.

“Back so soon?” They chuckle. It takes half a second of observing the twisted smile that accompanies it for her to process the fact that their mask is pulled down around their neck. Have they forgotten, or are they newly okay with exposing their face around her so casually?

“Are you disappointed?”

“On the contrary, I’m quite pleased. It’s good to know my cherished classmates haven’t yet decided to just let me rot. I wonder who would be considered the blackened if I starved to death in my room...” Getting up from where they’ve been lounging on their bed, they make their way closer to her, backing her up toward the wall. “Perhaps it would be you, as the last one who locked me in.”

“Wait, nobody gave you breakfast? Or lunch?” She’ll deny it later, but maybe she does feel their hand brushing along her side, slipping into her pocket.

“No, no one came,” they say, almost mournful. Then they back off and twirl the key between their fingers, letting the light glint off the metal just for show. “It’s quite alright. I can get it myself.”

“Wh— No! Give that back!” Himiko closes the distance between them, grabbing for the key, but misses. Shinguuji just raises their hand straight up, lifting the key out of her reach comically easily. She jumps, misses, and then grabs at their arm, trying to wrench it downward.

She’s terribly weak. They resist easily, moving in the direction of the door all the while.

“Mm, I don’t believe I will. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

“You can’t just leave,” she insists. “I won’t let you.” She can’t allow it, both for everyone’s safety and for her own reputation. Protecting them in private is one thing. Bungling the one major responsibility she’s been entrusted with would be quite another. Shinguuji won’t be swayed by that argument though, that much is obvious. So she does the next best thing. She tries to tackle them.

Despite being at a major disadvantage in both strength and size, the suddenness of her throwing herself at them (and perhaps the fact that they’ve hardly eaten anything in over a day) is enough to make them stumble, scrambling to regain their balance. With an unceremonious crash, they both go down in a tangle of limbs, toppling the desk chair as well.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” they ask, sounding calmer than she might have expected.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stopping you from escaping.” Once again, she makes a grab for the key before they can get up. To her surprise, they don’t put up much of a fight, letting her snatch it from their hand. Clenching it tight in her hand for fear they’ll just try to take it back again, she finally has a chance to catch her breath.

“Oh my, I suppose you’ve caught me, haven’t you?” Shinguuji asks languidly, gazing up at her. “But what will you do now with me at your mercy?” She’s close enough to see the smudged mascara under their eyes, like they didn’t bother taking off last night’s makeup before putting on more. Their lipstick is a bit smudged too, right at the corner, but the bruise at their jaw is more dramatically eye-catching. It’s that odd moment of calm that allows her to finally realize how the situation looks.

Shinguuji is sprawled out on the floor, hair in their face and fanned out around them. The bandages are coming loose around the hand she took the key from, and the way they’re looking at her is somehow lazy and dangerous all at once. She’s still half on top of them, straddling them from her ill-advised attempt at a tackle. One hand still clutching the key and the other braced against the floor, she isn’t technically sitting on their lap, but only barely.

As she looks down, she tells herself she’s inspecting the bruise on their face, but really, her gaze is lingering on their lips, reveling in how soft and kissable they look. Even the act of allowing her to look feels so intimate.

It would be so easy to lean in, and she starts to do so, compelled by forces beyond her control. She doesn’t think about their contentious relationship or about the fact that Shinguuji is technically her prisoner. All she thinks about is the crackling tension between them, the way their hand has moved up to rest at her waist, and how wonderful it would feel to kiss them.

Before she can get far though, their voice cuts through the daze.

“You have no answer then?” The question doesn’t make sense to her at first, but with a moment’s thought, she’s able to remember that she didn’t answer them before. They asked what she was going to do now. Despite forgetting to reply verbally, she thinks her actions must have been answer enough. Based on the look they give her, she thinks they agree and merely want to force a response anyway. Just to embarrass her, or for some other reason? She doesn’t know.

“You were never at my mercy,” she says eventually. “I just wanted the key.” She really is sitting on their lap now — when that happened, she isn’t entirely sure. Their faces are still so close too, and yet she can’t bring herself to pull away.

“A compelling answer. I can’t say I agree, but it wouldn’t be half as interesting if I did.” There’s still a slight smile on their face, and the hand against her side makes no attempt to push her off.

They both feel it at the same moment, the entire atmosphere shifting slightly. Himiko nods, unsteadily getting up.

“I’ll make sure someone brings you dinner.”

When she leaves, they’re still on the floor.

---

As she promised, she brings up the issue of Shinguuji’s meals with the rest of the group. It doesn’t matter that a couple of missed meals here and there aren’t enough to kill them — denying them food is inhumane.

Momota is the one to bring them dinner; she watches until he opens the door, just to make sure he really delivers it.

She isn’t assigned another shift with them today, technically, but she drops by late at night anyway, after everyone else should be in their rooms. It’s a moment of weakness, a guilty sort of indulgence. She lets herself in expecting the same sort of behavior as earlier, perhaps with a bit of awkwardness about the intimate moment they shared. She doesn’t expect to see them handcuffed.

“What’s this about?” she asks aloud, brow furrowing in concern. Unless someone else snuck in, this could only have been Momota’s doing. But why?

Shinguuji sneers at her from behind their mask.

“Momota-kun seems to be under the impression that I’m misbehaving. Filling your head with all the wrong ideas and trying to turn you against the rest of the group. How these,” and they lift their hands to indicate the cuffs, “are meant to have anything to do with me talking, I’m unsure, but he never does much critical thinking, does he? I do wonder what you said to him to give that impression though.”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything to him like that.”

“Then are you suggesting he merely came up with the idea on his own?”

“I don’t know! He must have, because I...the only thing I said was that it was wrong of them not to feed you.”

“And there it is. I wasn’t supposed to complain about that, it seems.”

Himiko’s head hurts. All of this is so incomprehensible and unfair. No matter what she does, she ends up disappointing everyone. If Momota really thinks Shinguuji is corrupting her somehow, it’s only a matter of time before no one trusts her, and now Shinguuji themself is upset with her too.

“But you weren’t complaining, I asked you.”

“The others don’t see it that way,” they answer simply. “You must have realized by now that they hardly even see me as human. They will do everything in their power to demonize me, even if it doesn’t make sense. That’s how they preserve their worldview. It’s now impossible for me to have any motivation other than killing. Foolish. If I intended to strike again while trapped here, they haven’t done nearly enough to prevent it. Nobody even bothered to search this room for weapons.” Shinguuji laughs then, turning her blood to ice water. “Even handcuffed like this, I could still kill you if I wanted to.”

Just like that, with no warning at all, they lunge at her. Startled (and yes, maybe a little afraid for just a moment that they really intend to hurt her), a shriek escapes her throat, but it’s only half a second before their hand is covering her mouth, silencing her.

“No, no, none of that,” they croon, pulling their hands away again. “Wouldn’t want anyone else to interfere, would we? I’m still uncertain just how strong the soundproofing is.”

Boneless and shaky from the sudden fright, she can’t help but sag against them, trying to regain her bearings. The fabric of their mask brushes her neck, betraying just how close they really are.

“Right,” she mumbles absently, though none of this makes any sense at all.

“What do you think?” they ask softly. “Shall I try it?”

“Uh, no, I’d rather you didn’t.” Her voice is weak, tremulous. She doesn’t really think they will, and yet...

They laugh again, supporting her body against their own.

“Luckily, I wasn’t planning on it. How about I teach you to pick the lock on these cuffs instead?”

---

Completely (mostly) unintentionally, a routine is established over the next few days. They still tease and taunt — if anything, they’re getting more overt about that — but there’s an intimate, almost seductive undertone to it that wasn’t there before. It isn’t enough to needle her about the others’ behaviors and how unfair they consider their imprisonment to be. They have to fluster her in other ways too as they do it.

One of the most noticeable changes is that they no longer stray away from physical contact. They don’t go out of their way to initiate necessarily, but if she gets too close, they jump on the opportunity without hesitation.

“Why is it exactly that you like coming here so much?” they ask her, arms coiling around her waist to pull her closer until she tips onto their lap. “And after I’ve made it abundantly clear how easy it would be for me to kill you too.” It would be even easier now than the first time they taunted her about it, since the handcuffs thankfully hadn’t made a reappearance yet.

“Does it matter why?” she replies, not even pretending to struggle against their grip. “I’d think you’d just be happy that I do.”

“Perhaps it’s that you enjoy watching me.” The tone in which they say that makes her blush, even without getting a look at their expression. “You all look down on me for what I do in the name of my mission, but you take pleasure in keeping me locked up in this room, controlling every part of my day. If anything, I would think that would make me the merciful one. I don’t cause my victims to suffer any longer than necessary.”

“Me coming here has nothing to do with liking the fact that you’re locked up,” she argues, trying to ignore how closely they’re cuddling her, uncovered lips brushing against her neck. She already knows she’ll have to be careful when she leaves — Saihara almost saw the lipstick marks the day before. “This isn’t some kind of power fantasy.”

“No?” Shinguuji nuzzles against her, somehow managing to weave aggression into such a sappy, affectionate gesture.

“No. What you did was bad, obviously, but I don’t see what this is supposed to accomplish. If you...if you killed someone again, you’d get caught and executed for sure, so there’s no reason for you to want to hurt anyone. Right?”

“If I agree with you on that, will you be persuaded to let me out?” They kiss her neck again. Now that she knows the reality is even better than her imagination, it’s hard to resist the urge to turn and kiss them properly.

“I can’t. What do you even think would happen? I let you out and then what, everyone else suddenly decides it’s okay?”

“Not okay, exactly, but not worth the bother of apprehending me again. I certainly wouldn’t go quietly.”

She hates it when they sound so reasonable. It makes it so much more difficult not to give in to their cajoling. Cajoling that often turns to something on the verge of outright begging, as they seem to be gearing up for now. As recently as a week ago, Himiko never would have pictured Shinguuji Korekiyo as someone willing to stoop to begging for any reason. Amazing how quickly things could change.

“I think it’s better if I just keep trying to convince everyone to lighten up.” She finally gives in to the kisses. threading her fingers through their silky hair. The bruise on their jaw (as well as the one on their side) is finally beginning to heal, but is still plenty visible for the time being, a reminder of exactly what they’re up against.

“Everything would be far more entertaining if I was free,” they urge softly, drawing back just enough to speak. “We could have much more fun together. We can work on escaping this academy together. That’s what you want, yes?”

“I...” She falters.

“We could make it happen, the two of us. All you have to do is let me out.”

“How do I even know any of this is genuine?” she asks, finally putting voice to one of the things that’s been troubling her most since this began. “I mean, you’ve basically said yourself plenty of times that you’re toying with me. Once there’s nothing you want from me, how do I know you’ll care at all about escaping together or anything else?”

Shinguuji is quiet for a long while. At first she thinks that she hit the nail on the head and they simply can’t deny the truth. But they haven’t made any move to nudge her off their lap, nor anything else that would indicate an end to the intimacy that had gradually become routine. Finally, they speak.

“I suppose there’s no way to know that for certain. That’s part of the beauty of human relationships. No matter what assurances you receive or how much trust you possess, it’s impossible to ever know with complete certainty that someone will not betray you. Sometimes your trust is misplaced, and that ugliness and sorrow is part of what makes life worth experiencing.”

“That’s unexpectedly deep,” she quips, trying to buy time while she considers how she actually feels about all that. “It’s been a while since you’ve gone on one of your anthropology lectures.”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in them. That’s another thing we could do more of if you decide to let me out, my dear?”

She stifles a gasp at the unexpected term of endearment, face reddening when she realizes that shocked reaction is exactly what they were trying to get out of her.

“Ugh, you’re so persistent. It really is a pain.”

They shrug. “I have little else to occupy my time, so continuing to wear down your defenses is a worthwhile effort. At the very least, you could bring me some documents from my research lab to make my time away from you less tedious.”

“I can do that,” she agrees, offering a small smile when she meets their eyes. “And it’s not that I want you to stay stuck in here. I just...need to think about the best way to do things. Because I want to get out of here together too.”

“Perhaps Momota-kun was right all along. Maybe I did corrupt you.”

She laughs, already leaning in for another kiss. “Or maybe you just didn’t realize how interested I already was.”

[pcttrailsidereader]

July 9, 2010 . . . A (Trail)Magical Evening at Drakesbad

By Rees Hughes

There are certain magical days on the Pacific Crest Trail that stand tall; days that rise above that broad forest of glorious days.   These are the days that your memory immediately races to when you reflect on your life on the trail.  There was the day we guessed our way around snow-covered Mt. Adams ending on a ridge with a commanding view of Mt. Rainier and a solstice sunset; the day we swam our way down Falls Creek marveling at the granite walls above Grace Meadows only to while away an afternoon in the soft, lush grass basking in the warm sun near Wilmer Lake; or the day we walked south from Cook and Green Pass past Kangaroo Springs to Lower Devils Peak with its ringside seat to the conflagration raging across the Klamath River Valley.  Every hiker has their transcendent days.

Such days do not always represent a confluence of everything wonderful.  It is their enchanted quality, what English writer Nan Fairbrother calls “exquisite moments,” that sets them apart.  Besides, time seems to blur the difficult and brighten the best experiences of these stellar days.  Such was the case this particular day.

The day dawned with vestiges of the tumultuous evening resting on the peaks above Lower Twin Lake in Lassen Volcanic National Park.  We tried to shake off as much moisture as possible but there was no alternative but to pack the tents wet again.  Dr. Howard tended to Don and Eli’s ailing feet.  Wet boots and long days had chaffed their feet raw with blisters compounding their discomfort.  There were unspoken thoughts of an early exit from the trail as it is no fun when each step hurts.  Perhaps a short day will improve spirits.

Speed bumps of late season snow gave way to long stretches of snow sheltered by the dense tree canopy.  I always find these situations wearing if not exhausting.  Climbing up and down the steep edges of the snow banks; picking your path around downed trees; add in a couple of postholes.   We carefully crossed several creeks swollen by the melt water and preceding night’s rainfall. About midday we reached the crest of a line of basalt cliffs that comprise Flatiron Ridge high above the Warner Valley and, more importantly, Drakesbad.

Drakesbad, initially established clear back in 1900 as a guest ranch, remains a rustic refuge accessible via a corrugated unpaved road seventeen miles in from Chester (which is pretty remote itself) or on foot.  There are only nineteen units at Drakesbad some of which still rely on kerosene lamps.  However, the price for a night rivals the cost of a month on the PCT.  Yet, during much of the summer, accommodations have been reserved for years.  It really is a Northern California Shangri-la.

As we made the long traverse down, we could see the steam rising from the hot spring pool set out in a broad meadow.  The siren song of happy voices pulled us forward.  Our own chatter focused on the possibility of reserving a space for dinner.

We set up our tents in the Park Service’s Warner Valley Campground, hung a line and did our best to give the high mountain sun a chance to dry out our saturated gear.  Howard and I were nominated to walk the half mile to Drakesbad to ask about a table for four in the well ventilated section.  We donned clean tee-shirts and tried to sponge away the most offensive trail musk.

As we stepped into the closed space of the dining room, even our deadened noses became aware of the aroma that accompanied us.  The colorful tablecloths festooned the light wood of the dining room.  The room was set for dinner.  Salad forks.  Second spoons.  Wine glasses.  The ambiance was simple but elegant.   The realization that we didn’t fit here made us yearn for the opportunity that much more.

A tall woman brusquely emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen.  She had the air of a person with a long list of urgent tasks and little time for hiker trash.  Our first efforts to turn on the charm bounced off her and fell impotently to the floor.

We continued, “Any chance, any chance at all, that there might be a way to handle four more this evening?”  We weren’t above inserting a hint of desperation in our request.

“The Ranch is full and we usually only have enough food for our paying guests,” she replied without a hint of sympathy.  There was a pause as she saw our crestfallen faces.  “I will check with the chef and see if there is likely to be extra food.”   Perhaps it was her Germanic accent that underscored the futility of our quest.   Perhaps it was that she didn’t seem to be heading off to ask anyone anything.

We turned to go, tails between our legs.  Don and Eli will be so disappointed.  We had hoped this would be an antidote for their blistered feet and bruised morale.

With one foot out the door, Howard asked if it might be possible to use the phone for a quick call home as our cell phones had not been working along this stretch of the PCT.

It was if Howard had uttered a magic incantation that had propelled us into a parallel universe.  We were Dorothy trying to get into Oz.  “Why didn’t you say you were on the Crest Trail,” Billie Fiebiger exclaimed.  “We always have enough food for PCT hikers.”  In fact, Billie gave us the key to the city.  “Use the showers (please) and the pool.  Make yourselves at home.  Come back at 7 p.m. although you may not be seated until later.”  Still shaking our heads at our good fortune and this rather mysterious turn of events, we hurried back to tell Don and Eli the news before the spell was broken.

As the four of us returned the dark clouds that had dogged us the past several days were building quickly.  But, the warm showers and the hydrothermal pool kept us occupied until the rumble of thunder became more aggressive. Within minutes the remaining blue patches of sky vanished.  Lightning forced us reluctantly to vacate the pool.  The hail drove us for cover under the eaves of the bathhouse.   The gusting winds pushed tentacles of rain toward even the most protected corners.

Valiant employees raced down the trail to the pool in an electric cart to rescue the castaways three per trip.  The meadow had been transformed into a Sargasso Sea and the pyrotechnics kept us all jumpy.  Eventually we were deposited in the Lodge where we were to wait until dinner.

The photo albums and memorabilia in the Lodge deepened our appreciation for just what a special place Drakesbad is.  For two generations the Sifford family had built and tended this Guest Ranch.  For over 60 years they reclaimed the facility after each harsh winter for its four months of annual operation.  It had to be a labor of love.  The facility was incorporated into the National Park in 1958.  For the past 19 years, Ed and Billie Fiebiger have served as the hosts, caretakers, and stewards of Drakesbad.

Ed, in his chef’s apron, called us for dinner.  We crossed to the dining hall and were promptly seated.  There were several choices of entrees.  Or, Ed suggested, “Try them all!”  Heaping plates were brought to each of us.  The folks at the adjacent table took a special interest in our story.  One of their group had come annually for nearly fifty years.  Another from their table was sent back to their cabin and instructed to return with some of their wine stash to be shared with us.  “White or red?”  “No”, she instructed her husband, “bring one of each.”  We were peppered with questions and asked quite a few of our own.  We soaked up the attention that comes with being minor celebrities.

Ed pulled up a chair.  He had a bigger than life quality and exuded a warmth that permeated the hospitality of this magical place.

My cynical side wanted to peer around to make sure that we were not being fattened up by some wicked witch.  But, Drakesbad is a place that replenishes your faith in the generosity of the human spirit.  Distrust, doubt, and skepticism have no place here.

And, there was desert too.  In fact, there were three kinds.  “Try them all!”

It was tempting to linger much longer than we did.  I confess that it was all I could to restrain myself from asking if they served breakfast too.

Eventually we said reluctant goodbyes and enthusiastic thank yous.  The rain had stopped by the time we walked back toward our campsite.  If we weren’t walking down the road with our arms around each other, singing and talking loudly, then it felt like there was that sense of conviviality. 

The storm had spread our clothes across our campsite and sent cascades of water around our tents.   But there was nothing capable of dampening our spirits on this magical day.

[rescuestudies]

types of people: my fire station

hey! it seems that you guys love the types of people memes I make so here’s another one! (I LOVE MY STATION SO MUCH...these are jokes!)

Captain: screams into the void, “beds made by 10″, “god dammit Jordan!”, edgy but actually a softie, so much salt, EMS without the cert, the color red, “yeet!”, soft spot for T, training is his jam, perfect balance of fun and stern, lowkey stressed out, hates writing reports, will be your biggest fan, “there was fucking Kerosene dude!”, managing is his happy place despite how not fun it is, probably has a planner somewhere 

Lt. : chill dad, awful dad jokes followed by dorky laughter, Steelers fan til death, gives T a hard time, soft spot for Jordan, kitchen cleaning master, only person who likes pumping water, did i mention he’s a dad, loves sharing his knowledge of the fire service, gives gentle reminders to be kind to yourself, will support you til the end, mini golf legend, if puppies were people he’d be a golden retriever, devoted to his family and wife, will preach to you about how life takes time 

Junior Mint: loves cats to a fault, will send you memes to make you feel better, plays too many PC games, gentle roasts to make the mood lighter, always down for some training, knows so much to be so young, a bright future ahead of him, taking things a day at a time, wings it 90% of the time and still does great, loves milk more than anything, epic bruh moment, picks on T for fun, just trying to make his life a good one 

Richy Rich: will kill you if you call him that, emo but in an adult way, gaming but make it indie, gives great advice followed by eh advice, the most neutral human being ever, so smart but such a smartass, takes training very seriously (but in a fun way), tries not to lose his patience with people but eventually cracks, the confidant friend everyone goes to but doesn’t listen to him when he needs it, the color blue, late nights and early mornings, south park memes, has no issue fact-checking a bitch 

Caleb: star wars enthusiast, giggly smiles, taking things a day at a time, genuinely wants you to win, appreciates the little things more than most of us, dad jokes all the time, accepts his flaws and tries to fix them, motivational quotes, take on me by a-ha probably loops in his head all day, wants the simple life, would make a great dad and also public health educator, genuinely loves helping others, makes it really hard to be mad at him

Jordan: gives corgi vibes lowkey, “it’s okay, i’ll teach you”, loves sharing his knowledge, not afraid to make mistakes, warm smiles, the type of person you simply can’t hate, always upbeat, probably has cake by the ocean playing on repeat in his head, loves the kids, passionate about fire but taking his time to get where he needs to be, will be the sober friend at a party, will never make you feel unloved or alone, “what’s up goofy”

T: angry but means well, loves the fire service but refuses to settle, just wnats to help people even before she helps herself, loves devious cats and silly dogs, lowkey afraid of commitment, definitely uses angst as a defense mechanism, will talk your head off about candles or healthcare inequalities, afraid of being wrong sometimes, that friend that will put you first, screams into the void, “Did my back hurt your knife?”, has no idea how to teach things without getting frustrated, that annoys her bc she really wants to train others, would die for her captain, hates people that underestimate women, a walking talking ass whoopin, “fuck you, i’ll do it myself” 

NASA: the smartest in the group probably, also a himbo somehow, anxious around women, *country boyyyy I love youuuuu*, dad glasses paired with dad jokes, probably the best cook on the crew aside from Lt., fills awkward silence with awkward laughter, can’t handle his wine, “what’s that supposed to mean?”, dying inside, lots of witty remarks, scribbled math equations on napkins, avoiding social situations to recharge battery, open ears and a silent mouth, keeps all your deepest secrets but still judges you lowkey, would die for anyone on his crew no matter how annoying they are, honestly a wholesome guy

YeeYee: loves ducks, probably cottagecore but add some camo, sends T some tiktoks, loves his girlfriend more than he loves life itself, hates school but went anyway, amazing teacher and sharer of information, big ole truck, unhinged chaos at any given moment, loves to play around with EMS supplies, “love me some McConaughey”, 3 black coffees followed by a scream into the hallway, “fuck my quiz!”, random road rage videos, on a chill scale, he’s the most chill, gets more unhinged when country music plays, “look at all those chickens” 

i love my crew so much man! i hope yall enjoy!

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 16 + 17.12.20 lb

16.12.20

riddhima having completely opposite reaction to me, on discovering ki iss shakal ke do do bande ghoom rahein hain dharti pe.

hubs praising wifey’s intellect (he has a real low bar huh) in attached note and saying ki yeh birthday kamaaaaaaaal ka hoga.

meanwhile kabir has come back to investigate the trap door. bhai you keep saying “policewaala hoon, policewaala hoon” but i don’t see you actually going to work. “policewaala hoon” is this show’s “main AAAAADIIIINAAAAAGIN hoon!!!!!!!!!!!!!” to which literally all of us just respond, haan toh???? nahi matlab, sach mein.......... TOH??? hum kya hi karein iss bohut hi obvious yet useless information ke saath?

A+ hide and seek game going on here.

lmaooooooo iski shakal dekho, on being interrogated. he’s suchhhhhhhhhhhhh a shady fuck.

oh boy she said the word that shouldn’t ever be said to tellywood MLs..... “warna”....... it only leads to one thing:

yup. this fuckery.

“tumhe har baat kyun jaanni hoti hai??? nahi bataana.” lmao well, when you put it like that......

some ainvayi ka blah blah meant to deter her but only makes her more determined. coz hubs knows wifey veryyyyyyyyyy well by now.

also he just said that the raaz is “khoobsoorat”. so this has a positive result ultimately i think?

andddd he dropped a new aag metaphor: “aag dekhne mein khoobsoorat hai lekin usmein haath daalna akalmandi ka kaam nahi hai.” (remember when he told her as vansh wrt the whole ragini thing ki “aag mein haath daalogi toh aag ko kuch nahi hota, lekin tumhare haath jal jaayenge.”)

also lmao kab karti hai riddhima akalmandi ka kaam????? yes MO is literally just “is it questionable and are people telling me RIDDHIMA NOOOOOO? THEN RIDDHIMA YESSSSSSSSS.”

so of course she’s like fuck you i wanna know at alllll costs.

“yeh raaz tumhe ek aisi duniya mein le jayega riddhima jahaan se laut ke aana tumhare liye impossible hai.” ....... so exactly like being stuck in this house/family????? pfttttt, warn her with something she HASN’T been dealing with everyday for the past 6 months.

some more dumb mysterious metaphors and he finally leaves. 

NOW WHO THE FUCK IS WATCHING HER FROM OUTSIDE?????? OUFF THIS FUCKING HOUSE IS FILLED WITH CREEPS AND PERVERTS.

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MIRROR KE PEECHE THERE’S ONE ITTTU SA SAFE  MADE SPECIALLY JUST TO HOLD ONE (1) THIN PIECE OF PAPER. AMAZING.

OH?

OHHHH??????

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

meanwhile idhar someone badeeeeeee safaai se maarofied the photo. ok you were spying on her from outside and knew that there was a compartment behind the mirror. BUT HOW DID YOU CRACK THE PASSWORD ON FIRST TRY??????????? IDHAR MERE KO APNA HI GMAIL TUMBLR INSTA PASSWORD 3 BAAR ENTER KARNE HOTE HAIN BEFORE IT LETS ME IN.

“happy birthday, Dollar Biwi!” mmmmhmmm got you all wet under the shower in black, Happy Birthday to all of us, indeed!!!!!

“i hope tum hamesha aise hi girti raho aur main pakadta rahoon!” snort. vihaan babu, permanantly yahaan ghar basaane ka plan banaa liya hai kya???? not even pretending anymore that he’s not in this mess for saath janam.

lmao she’s like fuck you i just wanna know the secret.

smarmy fuck is like hmmmmmm, birthday ke din bataaa hi doon kya? fucking tease.

he’s like ok fine, in the evening, at the party you’ll get a gift that’ll be your answer.

she’s like if you break your promise and don’t give me the answer?

“toh koi aur de dega.” this fuckerrrrrrrrrrr. he playing 3d chess, he fully knows what’s happening outside with the picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

she’s like pls no one else knows this secret, i have hidden it verrrrrrrrrrrry safely; and he’s like, if there’s one thing i learnt from vansh, it’s that the walls of VR mansion are neverrrrrrr safe. kabhi bhi kuchhhhhhhh bhi ho sakta hai.

Chehra Appreciation Break.

she runs out and........... the photo is goneeeeeeeee.

riddhima constantly wanting to beat up/murder vihaan is such a Mood lmao.

anyway he beat her with the powers of Logic. and Handsomeness. mostly Logic tho.

so if he didn’t do it................. she concludes ki obviously it was kabir.

ok but what if it was ANGRE, who’s milofied with boss to give bhaabiji an excellent birthday surprise???? he too knows howwwwwww much sis loves to do jasoosi and play these games. MAN JUST GIMME MY V/ANGRE BROTP BACKKKKKKKKKK.

anyway, birthday surprise has now turned into a headache and hubs like oh nooooooo, this is not what i wanted???? i wanted her to be happpppy and enjoy herselffffff.

girl back at bappa’s sharan. coz where else to go, really?

oh shit dadi’s here ranting and raving about knowing the truth. ohhhhhhhhh boy.

dadi has decided to make herself the birthday candle that riddhima has to blow out.

man, the matriarch of the house is throwing kerosene all over herself and everyone’s just standing around watching, instead of intervening in any useful way. everyone just want that raisinghania $$$$$$$ huh?

oh. dream tha. this bloody show and its never-ending dream sequences.

waise bhi iss set pe roz 4-5 cake aate hi honge, toh unko bas stack kar liya, ho gaya kaam. production mein se extra budget nahi nikaalna pada iske liye.

V has specialllllllllllll gift for Dollar Biwi. yeh hua na gifttttttt. yisssssss gimme that USD, sonnnnnnn. exchange rate 73 touch kar gaya hai and the way it’s going........ it’s gonna reach even higher soon.

aslkjdaslkjdlaskjdlkaslksajd riddhima and kabir’s reactions. they’re honestly so fucking done with this asshole.

ishani like since when you have such a sense of humour, bhai????? arre tha hamesha se hi, tum logon ne mauka hi kab diya hai bande ko joke maarne ka? har waqt kuch na kuch kalesh chalta rehta hai iss ghar mein jo bechaare ko sametna hota hai.

kabir adding to anxiety with this birthday will be so special blah blah blah.

and now the cake R cut just exploded with red liquid that ishani injected into it. birthday ke din hi tum sabhi manhooson ko bachchi pe bhadaas nikaalni hai???? ek din toh baksh do bechaari ko.

LOL DADI KNOWS IT’S ISHANI AND SHE’S JUST LIKE

sab ka cake khaana khilaana blah blah.

hubs takes a moment to actually wish her sincerely with mushy eyes and soft voice. sweet.

ouff one moreeeeee surprise. aaj shaam birthday party. organized by kabir. greaaaaaat. 

riddhima’s face = mine when i too am forced into social events that i have less than zero interest in attending.

lmaooooooooooooo kabir called him “vansh bhai” and the slowwwwww turn V did to look at him like ‘bitch what you say??????’

snark snark snark.

kabir rolling out some tray and......... the episode ends. god this is so fucking boring so much buildup to a bloody partyyyyyyyyyyy.  just get it the fuck over with my god!!!!!!!

———————————————————————

17.12.20

K’s presented her with a buncha envelopes to choose the theme of the party or some such shit and riddhima’s like the fucker had put the photo in one of these for sureeeeeee.

Chehra(s) Appreciation Break

anyway she picked one envelope and there’s a letter from K saying i have the secret you were hiding, it’ll be out in the party, blah blah.

interesting thing is that this letter is written in hindi. the letter from vansh was hindi transliterated in english. hmmmmmm. i mean, lol, this has no larger bearing on the plot, just an observation i’m making and wondering about the show’s choices.

lmao he did this lil eyebrow thing that just neeeeeeded to be giffed. i love this face so much!

hubs is sensing something is realllllllllll wrong and taking charge of the conversation and declares party ka theme colour is gold, and that riddhima is gonna look hot in black and gold. uh....... ok?

everyone disperses and V is warning K ki if you fuck this party up in anyyyyyyyyy way that makes the birthday girl upset..............

vishal is making sooooooooo many amazing gif-worthy faces today. about time i make a set on him.

riddhima turning K’s room uthal-puthal to find the photo and obviously failsssss.

and he’s here with a bouquet of balloons and OMG BURSTING THEM ONE BY ONE LIKE THIS HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

lotsaaaaaaaa threatening blah blah and riddhima is trying to reason with him and............ god i’m so bored.

“tum na riddhima bohut hi ajeeb type ki ladki ho. jis kaam ke liye mana kiya jaata hai tum EXACTLY wohi karti ho!!!!” hahahahahaha both her boytoys should meet up over a drink about this very special characteristic of her’s. they’ll find they have more in common than they think.

lmao literally noone else can make a party horn and the birthday song seem this hilariously threatening. i love him so muchhhhh.

behen is now crying in front of vansh’s photu. you know, to spice things up a lil.

saw some random photo frame sitting there, and just opened it and happened to find a bank transfer reciept from vansh to vihaan. for 5 crore. and on the 8th of december, 2017. ok but my question is what about the frame said ki open this and find exactly what you’re looking for behind the picture???????

storming off to find V and............

lo ji aaj ke girrne ka karyakram shuru.

lmao the contrast in reactions.

“kismat tumhe har pal, har kadam mere aur kareeb laa rahi hai, riddhima.”

he’s being very cute in this scene. he genuinely does want her to have a good birthday, it seems.

unffffffffff. aise na mujhe tum dekho................

lmao she’s like you are the singlemost biggest fucking reason of all my stress, birthday or otherwise. wtf vansh give you 5 crore for????/ he’s like patience lil birdy, the answers are your birthday present. it’ll come in good time.

she’s yelling at him for being so chill when kabir is about to expose them and he’s just putting it all on her saying you’re the one going down for it anyway. and maybe if you’d told me about that mysterious letter earlier, i coulda helped you. SO BLOOOOODY ANNOYING HE IS.

anyway he’s like don’t worry i’ll handle it. but you have to give me apni zindagi ki ek khoobsoorat shaam. which............... gross. didn’t have to frame it like THAT.

she went to slap him but ofc he intercepted. ugh he’s so massive how the fuck is someone to even subdue him????? god i hate men.

anyway she told him he’s disgustaaaaaang and won’t take his help and he’s like yeah but it’s not just about you, there are manyyyyyy lives at stake here.

HE’S SUCH AN ASSHOLE FOR PLAYING WITH HER THIS WAY. THERE’S NO WAY SHE WINS HERE IN HIS EYES. IF SHE DOESN’T TAKE HIS HELP, THAT MEANS SHE HOLDS HER EGO AND SELF RESPECT OVER THE FAMILY’S SAFETY. IF SHE DOES GIVE UP HER SELF RESPECT TO SAVE THE FAMILY, HE’S JUST GONNA USE IT TO THROW ACCUSATIONS AT HER CHARACTER. FUCK IT’S JUST SUCH A HORRIBLE, BAD FAITH EXPERIMENT. I HATE HIM. AND SINCE WE KNOW ALREADY THAT SHE’S GONNA AGREE FOR THE DATE OR WHATEVER, I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE SHAMES HER FOR THAT LATER, IMMA CLIMB INTO THE SCREEN AND CASTRATE HIM WITH A RUSTY BUTTER KNIFE.

the signal for the yes to the offer is a........ “flying dance” during the party. which sounds as fucking ridiculous as.......... everything else in this fucking show, i suppose.

LMAO SHE IMITATED THE LIL SMUG EXPRESSION HE MADE IN SUCH A CUTE/FUNNY WAY. WHY THIS SHOW DOESN’T LET HELLY ALSO BE MORE EXPRESSIVE WITH HER FACE IN A CUTE WAY???? SHE LITERALLY HAS A DISNEY PRINCESS FACE AND ALL THESE FUCKERS MAKE HER DO IS CRY AND SCREAM AND BE WORRIED.

what a fucking simp for his wife. i love it.

askdjlksjdlkasjdlksajldkjlkdjlkj there’s a watermark on the mumbai stock footage. this show gives nooooooo fucks about quality at all.

party time. and the lights have gone out.

someone messing with the electronic equipment in the worsttttttttttt fucking way, by putting kerosene on the floor and setting a fuse alight??????? like????? just cut all the wires instead of causing a fullll fucking house fire like this?????????

lmao ishani is like lights ko gaye itna time ho gaya, yeh zaroor riddhima ki kismat ka koi ishaara hai. sis you need to chill with the savage. ek din toh chhod do usko.

ok they’re really hot today. really fucking hot.

lmao she’s smiling but chabaa chabaa ke saying ki i’ll never say yes to your shady idea.

kabir walks up to her, gives her flowers, AND ACTUALLY THREATENED HER RIGHT IN FRONT OF V’S FACE. THE WAY V’S FACE CHANGED IN SECONDS YOU GUYS................

coldly impassive.....

...... to YOU’RE REALLY TRYING TO RUIN MY WIFE’S BIRTHDAY WHEN I EXPLICITLY WARNED YOU NOT TO?????????

..... to OH HE GON’ DIE TONIGHT.

.......... to silently giving reassuring look ki he’ll handle this.

that fuse is stillllllllllllll burning. at the fucking speed of paint drying on a rainy day.

speech timeeeeeeeee by kabir. and he has a video too. lorddddd.

V still cheekily offering his services, and she’s like bitch i did my own intezaam already. ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. kerosene aur fuse waala stupidass plan iska hi tha. should have guessed from the level of sheeeeeer dumbness that it was her and no one else.

lmao he’s like ok but this was too good an opportunity for me, so i counter-attacked YOUR counter-attack. that wasn’t kerosene. i switched it out for blue paani. OH GOD RIDDHIMA DUMBASS DID YOU NOT EVEN SMELL THE FLUID TO CHECK WHAT IT WAS??????????????

“kahaani kuch bhi ho, important yeh hai ki uska climax kya hota hai. aur iss kahaani ka climax tumhare saamne hai, riddhima.”

bitch yehi toh dikkat hai, ki abhi tak koiiiiiiiiii climaxes nahi milen hain issko. na vansh se, na vihaan se. what’s the use of all this thopda and ambidexterous haath if there’s no climaxes resulting from them? waste fellow. get working on delivering those climaxes PRONTO, sir.

[medalmonkey]

Board practical guidelines

1)       

 XI and XII children are intensely curious about their projects. They want to compete Sundar Pichai. They are crazy. The only thing I can do is to extend my best wishes to my dear children and to motivate them to keep their progress steady.

 2)       

 Before providing them with some helping guidelines, let me provide them with some useful information-

 For board practical exam following things are required-

o   Practical record (lab manual) of the practical performed by you in the lab throughout the year. Record of total 12 practical.

o   Activities file containing details of total 8 activities.

o   AIL (art-integrated-learning) project.

o   One project (called investigatory-project) along with its proper documentation (project-file).

 I am going to tell you in detail about the last one, the project.

 3)       

 There are two questions-

o   What is a project?

o   What is the documentation (project-file) of the project?

 Project is something which gives you some observations. You write these observations somewhere and make a summary of it. This recording of observations is the documentation (project-file) of the project.

 As an example, consider the project as a refrigerator and the manual of the refrigerator as the documentation (project-file).

 4)       

 For XI children, I expect that they choose such a project which also serves as their ATL (atal-tinkering-lab) project. Make a power point presentation in support of their project.

  5)       

 What to write in ppt?

PPT is the detailing of your project. It covers following important points-

o   Title of your project.

o   Specifications/features of your project.

o   Problem statement. In this point you write about the problem which is addressed by your project.

o   To whom does your project meant for?

o   Necessity of your project.

o   How does your project serve the addressee?

o   Components/tools used in your project.

o   Cost of your project.

o   Problems/challenges experienced by you during the realization of your project.

 6)       

 ATL project is different from AIL project. One is not substitute of other.

 7)       

 XI children will conceptualize their project as ATL project while XII children will conceptualize their project as board practical project.

 8)       

 CBSE suggests few investigatory projects for XII children in the syllabus as prescribed-

o   To study various factors on which the internal resistance or EMF of a cell depends.

o   To study the variations in current flowing in a circuit containing an LDR because of a variation in- (a) the power of the incandescent lamp, used to illuminate the LDR, (b) the distance of a incandescent lamp used to illuminate the LDR.

o   To find the refractive indices of (a) water, (b) oil using a plane mirror, an equi convex lens and an adjustable needle.

o   To design an approximate logic gate combination for a given truth table.

o   To investigate the relation between the ratio of (a) output and input voltage and (b) number of turns in the secondary coil and primary coil of a self-designed transformer.

o   To investigate the dependence o the angle of deviation on the angle of incidence using a hollow prism filled one by one, with transparent fluids.

o   To estimate the charge induced on each one of the two identical Styrofoam (or pith) balls suspended in a vertical plane by making use of Coulomb’s law.

o   To study the factor on which the self-inductance of a coil depends by observing the effect of this coil, when put in series with a resistor (bulb) in a circuit fed up by and AC source of adjustable frequency.

o   To study the earth’s magnetic field using a tangential galvanometer.

 These projects are not such that they demand you to make a machine to produce something.

 For example, a refrigerator is meant to produce ice. So if you make a refrigerator your intention is probably the production of ice from your refrigerator. Let me guide you that you are not expected to make a refrigerator, in fact you take a readymade refrigerator and take some observation from it. For example, just leave the door of the refrigerator open and notice that how does it influence the temperature of the room.

 9)       

Your project must have a very specific objective. For example, in case of discussed refrigerator project, the clear-cut objective is- “Effect on the temperature of the room when you leave the door of the refrigerator open.”

 10)    

NCERT prescribes a format for the documentation of the project. It includes following points-

o   Title of the investigatory project.

o   Objectives.

o   Materials needed.

o   Method.

o   Result.

o   Analysis and interpretation.

o   Discussion.

o   Conclusion.

o   References.

 In “title” you must give name of your project.

 In “objectives” you write one or more objectives of your project. I suggest you to work for a single objective only. For example, in case of discussed refrigerator project, the clear-cut objective is- “Effect on the temperature of the room when you leave the door of the refrigerator open.”

 In “materials” you write the names of the appliances, gadgets, instruments etc that you used in your project.

 In “method” write the procedure of taking observations step by step.

 In “result” write the observations, readings, graphs etc.

 In “analysis” compare the result with your expectations. For example, in case of refrigerator project, you were expecting that the room would get chilled but what happened was opposite of it.

 In “discussion” write implications of your result. For example, in case of refrigerator project, you would write that it is not possible to cool a room by leaving the door of the refrigerator open.

 In “conclusion” you write that do not leave the door of the refrigerator open.

 11)    

On child decided to make a project on “prism”. Child asked me to suggest some objectives. Few objectives are as follows-

o   Effect of refractive index of the material of the prism on the minimum angle of deviation.

o   Effect of angle of prism on the minimum angle of deviation.

o   Effect on the minimum angle of deviation of the prism when you put the prism in kerosene oil.

o   Effect of using yellow light on the minimum angle of deviation.

o   Effect of using two prisms on the minimum angle of deviation.

o   Effect of changing rough side of the prism on the minimum angle of deviation.

 My dear children you know the name of Newton. You know his contribution in laws of motion. Very well. Let me make you aware that his entire life was spent only in experimenting with lenses and prisms. The name of the document (a book) where he jotted down his observations is OPTICKS. It was published in 1704.

 12)    

One child of XI asked me about the idea of making a solar energy driven car. I appreciate his independent and influenced thinking.

 But the thing is that you must take care of the practicality of your project. Though any project cannot be stamped impractical but even then some projects are little but fantasy.

 Please do not choose fantasy projects.

 Solar energy drive car is a fantasy project to me (I may be wrong) because at least I am unable accept the scope of fitting of solar panels on the roof of the car.

 I dragged the attention of the child to that day newspaper headline. Honorable prime minister projected a target to use 20% ethanol in petrol. I asked the child to kindly investigate why is it taking so long to achieve a mere use of 20%. What are the problems in it?

 Once the problem is identified, I am sure the next project will be to solve the identified problem.

  Best wishes

Ashish Kumar

[angelanimedesaray]

Animal Instincts (Part 2 of The Investment)

AN:  yeeeaaahhhh this became a series.  Not a super big ambitious one like Through The Looking Glass, but...there’s a few parts.  Not sure if I can call it a mini-series, so right now I’ll just say series.  Also this is officially a nitty-gritty series compared to some of my other stuff/ideas.  I just feel like Vampire stuff should be like that, Y’know???  Also, yes, I’m a monster, believe me, I know, I was thinking that as I wrote some of these scenes...

AN On Character:  Before ANYONE can call me out for this...if Levi seems too emotional...In my little Vampire Lore World, emotions are AMPLIFIED for Vampires.  Happiness becomes joy, sadness becomes despair, (emotional) pain becomes agony, grief becomes devastation, etc etc.

Characters:  Vampire!Levi, Reader, Hange, Erwin (Mentioned), many unnamed background OCs

Pairing:  Still not sure if I can be labeling this Levi x Reader, esssspecially for this chapter...

Warnings:  Language, Biting, Blood, Violence, Threats of Violence, Gore, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Heavy Angst, Bad Bad BAD Decisions.  *Spoilery Tag* here comes some serious ‘Hurt Them to Protect Them’ Logic

Word Count:  11037

<---Previous Part    Next Part--->

*Levi’s POV*

“You’re having far too much fun poking at me, Four-Eyes.”

“You can’t complain, Levi--you consented!”

“I made the mistake of assuming you’d have some form of restraint considering the situation.”

“Oh, come on, Levi, don’t be like that--don’t you find all this exciting?”

“No.”

“Just think of all we’re learning, though!  Isn’t it fun?”

“None of this is my idea of fun.”

“That’s just because you’re too busy sulking to appreciate how fascinating this all is.”

“Tch.”

Levi sat next to Hange’s desk in her cluttered office, idly wiping a stray strand of blood from the fresh cut on his arm as she swiftly moved to study her new blood samples under the microscope.  The curtains were drawn in consideration for Levi, the light in the room provided by the kerosene lamp on her desk.  It was the morning after Levi had fed, and Hange was wanting to see if she could see any differences in his blood after his hunger had been satisfied.  Ever since seeing how his blood had been able to bring Y/N back from the brink of death, Hange had been...rather obsessed.  It was impressive how she managed to juggle her excited prodding of Eren as well as her smaller-scale experiments on Levi behind closed doors, though Levi was starting to wonder if she was even sleeping between it all.

“It’s amazing, but so unfair!  We know your blood is different, that it has these extraordinary properties, and yet, comparing it with some of my own, there’s no visible difference I can see, even after you’ve fed--it appears to be the same as the sample of normal blood!” Hange said, her voice dipping in frustrated disappointment before swinging back upwards in excitement over and over again as she spoke.

Levi wiped the small smear of blood on his fingers away with his handkerchief and started to roll his sleeve back down.  “Nothing about you is normal, Hange,” he deadpanned.  “Eight seconds.”

“Oh?” Hange asked, perking up from the microscope to glance at where the minor injury had been, not a trace of blood left behind and smooth skin where the cut had been disappearing under his white sleeve.  “That’s faster than last time by...five, six seconds?  Does this mean that you heal faster the better fed you are?” Hange mused.

“It’s one theory,” Levi murmured, thinking back to when he’d given Y/N his blood.  He had just, just fed off of her, yet the wound on his wrist then had taken a minute or more to heal up.  Maybe there was some kind of focus or willpower involved, too.  Right now, he didn’t need or want the wound to linger, and it didn’t, while then he’d need and wanted it to.

Just another theory to add to Hange’s growing pile.

Hange turned her attention back to the microscope, trying--most likely in vain--to see some kind of difference in his blood in case her first observation was wrong.  “Speaking of feeding…”

“No, Hange,” Levi said in a quick, hard tone before she could continue her leading statement.

“Levi-iii, why not?” she whined.  His irritation flared--how many times did he have to tell her no?

“I don’t have control when the hunger takes over like that--it’d be too dangerous.  There’s no telling what could happen, and I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“It can’t be any different from poking at titans, which, need I remind you, I did with non-intelligent titans before we started the experiments with Eren.”

“This is different,” Levi said coldly.  “Besides.  It’s not something you want to see.  Not really.”

“Except I do.”

Levi didn’t even bother to answer her this time.  He’d already told her no, and since no one knew the Underground as well as him and he now had his inhuman speed, it wasn’t like she could follow him down into the Underground to try and spy on him.  He had the final say, and he’d already said no.

Hange grumbled nonsense at his silence, Levi’s sensitive hearing not even able to pick up two words that could be strung together.  “You’ve been more...short tempered, recently.”

“I wonder why.”

Hange ignored his sarcastic jab and kept talking.

“With all your senses and abilities being amplified, do you think its possible your personality has been, too?  Your emotions?” Hange asked, growing curiosity in her voice as the theory formed.

Levi actually paused to consider it.  He was annoyed easier recently.  Sometimes he found it hard to get a grip on himself with emotions that went to extremes far faster than normal, or he clamped down so harshly on an impulse or emotion that he didn’t feel anything.  He constantly felt like he was trying to do a balancing act blindfolded between the two extremes, trying to get back to his normal.  Even he was aware that he wasn’t himself recently--besides the obvious.  Though he’d written it off as just dealing with everything that had happened.  What if this was going to be his normal if he couldn’t find that balance?

“I’m going to take your thoughtful silence as a yes,” Hange said, already reaching over to scribble down notes.  “I feel sorry for the cadets.”

Levi scowled.  What, did she think he had no self-control?  He wasn’t taking all this craziness out on anyone, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Don’t you have to go poke at Eren instead of me this morning?” he asked, giving Hange a steady look.

“Yes, but when I’m done, I’ll try to snag you for a few more tests I want to try today.”

“Wonderful…” Levi grumbled, already getting to his feet.

“Before you leave, just a few more questions!”

Levi paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to speak only a step away from the door.

“How’s the filtering with your hearing coming?  Have you tried anything to help with the overpowering smells?  Is the sunlight still bothering you the same way?  What about those urges when you’re around people?”

Levi turned and leaned his back against the door, expanding his explanation for Hange’s sake so she could take her notes.  “Sunlight’s still irritating.  Tolerable, but in short bursts, not long periods.  The best I can do for scent is to not breathe through my nose when something’s too strong.  I’m getting better at focusing on specific sounds to block out the excess, but if there’s something sudden or sharp it all floods in again.”  Levi paused, hesitating to go into details about his bloodlust issues.  But Hange and Erwin needed to know what his limits were if they were going to keep others safe from him.  They needed to be aware what made him more likely to bite someone.  He’d already had a few close calls, and they all knew it.  “It’s still...hard, when someone’s bleeding near me, even if I’ve fed recently.  But being well fed--blood or regular food--helps...but only so much.  When I’m around people, if I can block out their pulse by focusing on something else--even if its just different breaths or a person’s voice--I’ll be just fine.  If I don’t, or I get...distracted by the sound of someone’s pulse, that desire returns.”

“Do you think it’s getting easier with time?” Hange asked, her voice soft in consideration with the subject Levi was far more sensitive about.

“No.  Not yet, anyway.”

“Do you think you need to eat more?”

Levi shook his head.  “No.  There’s a difference between the desire and the hunger.  And usually I take the first chance I have to slip away when I feel that shift.”

“I’ll see if I can come up with some ideas on what might help.  There’s still plenty we don’t know, so maybe we just need to spend a bit more time exploring.”

“Another time,” Levi said flatly, straightening up and turning to leave.  He paused with his hand hovering over the doorknob, the sound of a new heartbeat from just on the other side of the door and a familiar scent wafting towards him causing him to stiffen before he turned to face Hange with a hiss.  “Did you know she was coming?”

While Erwin had agreed to Levi’s request that Y/N be kept away from Levi as much as possible, Hange had openly disagreed with Levi’s tactic and had even tried to talk him out of it once.  It was already hard enough to dodge Y/N daily while the persistent woman kept trying to corner him to make him talk to her.  If Hange had started actively taking Y/N’s side and trying to get the two to bump into one another, staying away from her was going to become nearly impossible.

Hange held up her hands defensively.  “I’m innocent this time, Levi, I swear.”

He didn’t believe her.

Levi’s teeth ground together as he backed away from the door, a knock sounding a few seconds later.  Levi jerked his head towards the door to tell Hange to open it herself, his body taunt as he waited for the brief window he would have.  Hange sighed dramatically to show her displeasure at the events around her, as always, but Levi simply ignored it, eyes still on the door.

As soon as the door had opened wide enough for Levi to slip through, he bolted, using his new speed to pass by Y/N with little more than a soft gust of air, maybe the briefest glimpse of Levi inside Hange’s office that would have been brief enough to pass off as a hopeful illusion.  He didn’t stop until he reached an empty hall far enough away he couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore.  Once there, he leaned against the wall for a brief moment, eyes closed as he pushed any rising thoughts about her as far down as he could and reoriented himself.

He straightened just in time for another scout to round the corner, subconsciously putting on the façade of favoring his left leg as he continued down the hall.  They didn’t have an excuse for why an injury that was supposed to sideline him for months would abruptly be so completely healed, so he had to keep moving around like he was out of commission even though he was even stronger physically than he’d been before.  Plus, it gave Hange plenty of time to poke and prod while Levi was still only doing the non-physical half of his duties.

...or plenty of time to try and orchestrate forcing Levi into a situation where he had to talk to Y/N.  He’d have to be on guard against Hange’s sneakier methods the more desperate she became to make it happen.

*Reader’s POV*

If anyone could rival you in stubbornness, it was Levi.  Once that man settled on something, really put his mind to it and committed, nothing was going to change it except some kind of earth-shaking event.  This particular quality of his was becoming more and more apparent with every passing day the Captain went so far out of his way to avoid you.

It had already been blatantly obvious the kind of lengths he was willing to go to try and push you out of his life entirely when, during your recovery, he didn’t even sleep in his office while you were recovering.  He’d retreated to another side of the castle entirely, and stubbornly stayed there until his door was fixed and lockable again, and you had recovered and been moved back to where you usually slept.  Now, you were lucky to catch glimpses of him from a distance.  He started supervising training at different times--specifically ones where you were busy elsewhere--and was in and out of the mess hall for his food either long before you arrived or too quickly to give you a chance to corner him, not that the mess hall was the place to be having the kind of conversation the two of you needed.  If you tried to find him in his office, he never answered--somehow he always seemed to know that it was you on the other side of the door, even if someone else did the knocking and talking for you.  Once, when you had decided to just walk in, you’d even heard the lock click as your hand touched the doorknob.  That one had hurt.

Still, you understood what he was doing.  From the moment you’d woken up and had that brief exchange with him, Levi’s intentions had been obvious.  Afraid that you would get hurt, Levi was trying to put as much distance between the two of you so nothing similar could happen again.

Had you been hurt?  Yes.  Had he almost killed you?  Definitely.  Had you been afraid?  Hell yes, even if your surprisingly level-headed approach to the situation had suggested differently.  But after waking up bed-ridden with a decently lengthy recovery period ahead of you, you’d had plenty of time to really think about what happened and what you understood of it.  Almost being killed by someone wasn’t an easy thing to overcome.  When you’d first woken up, you’d admittedly still been in a sort of shock about what had happened, the events hadn’t really sunk in yet.  But your recovery had given you the time you needed to struggle, shake, cry a little, and work through it all.

What Levi had done, while terrifying and deadly for you, had been unintentional, and fueled by a hunger he wasn’t used to, a hunger that had probably been amplified by his near-death state and that much harder for him to control.  He’d lost all sense of himself, you’d seen it in his eyes the brief moment before he’d bitten into your neck.  You couldn’t imagine what he’d felt when he did come back to himself.  Hange had said that he’d been desperate, that she’d never seen him the way he was while trying to save your life.  And now, seeing the lengths he was going to in order to protect you from himself, seeing how afraid he was that he was going to hurt you again...how could you not be willing to forgive him?

If you could just catch him and get the stubborn, stoic man to talk to you already.

You couldn’t let the conversation be postponed any longer.  This was something the two of you needed to talk about, so you could fully forgive him, maybe he could start to forgive himself, and both of you could move forward.  It would also be helpful for Levi to get assistance with whatever this was he was going through, but right now you were focused on the basics.

And because you still couldn’t catch Levi, even with a heads up from Hange allowing you to briefly glimpse him in the woman’s office, you were pushed to the drastic and admittedly stupid actions.

You had to catch him when he went to the Underground to feed.

Knowing what was happening to him, it wasn’t hard to piece together how he’d been feeding recently when no cases of dead bodies drained of blood popped up within the walls on the surface or among the Scouts.  You also knew he wasn’t feeding on any willing participants yet--he was afraid of losing control, and with the three people who were aware of his situation being people he didn’t want to accidentally kill, he wouldn’t be drinking from anyone in the Scouts.  Where would he go if he was looking for people who would disappear without causing ripples if he lost control?  The Underground, as depressing as the truth of it was.

Except he had started to catch attention.  Not directly, obviously, but rumors were starting to bubble, rumors about a shadowy figure that snatched the filth of the Underground into the darkness and left mangled bloodless corpses behind as the only evidence it had ever been there.  Only a couple bodies had been found, but if Levi had to feed as frequently as his nightly excursions suggested, there were more.

You’d been keeping an eye out for him nightly, trying to figure out his feeding pattern since you’d been driven to this point, which was how you knew.  It was how you were able to figure out the rough window of when he’d need to feed again, how you were able to catch sight of him slipping out of Headquarters when everyone should have been asleep, and how you knew where you needed to go in order to follow him into the depths of the Underground.

Though you weren’t entirely sure if it could necessarily be called following.  With his speed, Levi was impossible to keep in sight.  You knew which entrance to the Underground he used, and you could rationalize that he would be looking for unsavory elements in the back alleys of the Underground, but that was all you had to go off of.  You’d have to hope that you could find Levi down there, in a place he knew far better than you, in the short span of time it took him to find someone, feed, and then return to headquarters.  If you missed him completely, you’d be stuck wandering the Underground until morning or later, considering there wouldn’t be any sun to tell you morning had broke.

But this was the only option you had left.  It wasn’t your best idea, and you found yourself jumping at shadows as you plunged deeper and deeper below ground, but you had to try.

He wasn’t going to do it, so you had to try.

You had to resist the urge to cover your nose with your hand in a feeble attempt to block out the smell as you started weaving your way through the dark streets of the Underground.  You couldn’t imagine how Levi tolerated it even if he had lived down here once, considering his enhanced senses.

Feeling eyes on you, you shook off the idle thoughts, reminding yourself this was the worst place inside the walls to be alone, even with military training, and you clearly stood out down here.  You couldn’t afford to get lost in thoughts right now, especially since you knew Levi was prowling through these dark streets somewhere looking for someone to feed on.

Even though you hadn’t thought it could, the further into the winding, dark back streets, the worse the conditions were.  Abandoned houses rotted away, and the occasional body was shoved aside off the main path so people could keep walking.  Occasionally something would move in the dark, and you could see dim eyes watching you from huddled masses curled up next to walls or trash heaps for some form of shelter.  You did your best not to disturb them, stepping carefully and trying to keep pity from rising into your expression.  You were here for one person right now, and you were on a time limit.  There wasn’t time to spend feeling bad for locals you couldn’t help.

It was while you were stepping around one of these locals that you hadn’t seen curled up at the corner because they’d been so indistinguishable from the trash pile they’d been sleeping in that you momentarily lost sense of your larger surroundings a moment too long.  Taking care to step around the corner and not on the person you’d almost tripped over, you initially missed the sight of a group of five men that had almost reached the neck of the alley you were stepping into.  Registering movement in your peripherals, your head snapped up to take in the sight of the small group of large men, body tensing at the light you saw spark in their eyes when you saw each other.

Your first thought was not to go down that alley, then it was to not turn your back on them.  It was a T intersection, though.  You couldn’t turn around because there was too much ground to cover still, and you didn’t really want to make some kind of awkward shimmy down the alley in the same direction they seemed to be heading.

You didn’t get much time to think about it.  They were too close for comfort, so you turned and continued down the alley, your steps faster, body tensed and limbs ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.  You could feel them behind you, heard the whistles and jeers about a pretty little surfacer wandering into the slums.

This wasn’t going to end well.  Especially if you took a wrong turn into a dead end like you were in some kind of cliché horror story.

You turned your head just enough to get a look at them, noting with unease that the fifth seemed to have broken away from the group.  No doubt to try and cut you off--you weren’t stupid, and you were in the Scouts, of course you’d be able to figure out that much.

Best not to keep going in a straight line down the alley, then.  Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lose them in the winding back alleys.  They might have the home field advantage, but at least you wouldn’t make it easy for them if they did manage to corner you between the five of them.

The next time you saw a narrow alley on your right, you took a sudden, sharp turn, breaking into a run as soon as you were out of the immediate sight of the group.  You heard them holler behind you just past the halfway point in the alley, the four also breaking into a run a few seconds before you made another right turn, a left, straight, another left, a right…

Maybe you should try to double back and get back to the surface.  You’d stumbled into trouble, you were going to have to spend time shaking them, most likely Levi would have fed and would be leaving by the time you managed to go back to searching for him again.  It was best to cut your losses and head back above ground, try to corner him again another time, another way.  This hadn’t been a smart idea from the beginning, but now it was much, much worse.

You could hear that group still pursuing you, more spread out now as they used their numbers to their advantage, just as you’d expected them to.  And it seemed they’d sent the fastest ahead to try and cut you off, because as you turned the corner for another right turn, you could see one of them pop out of an alley a few ahead of you, already heading for you as you bolted into another side alley.

They were getting too close for comfort.  And this one was staying on your ass like an abnormal in an open field.

Halfway down an annoyingly long and slightly wider alley, that one man still on your tail, a second appeared at the other end of the alley.  He grinned when he saw you running straight for him, ripping one of the boards off the window of the abandoned house in the alley and holding it like a club.

You didn’t slow down, already taking in his form, mind going through the many disarming motions you’d been taught, some by Levi himself after you’d shown some promise in training.  The smile diminished when you didn’t falter, but the second man stood his ground, waiting for you to get within reach.

You were waiting for the same moment.

As he pulled back to swing, you shifted to the side, grabbing at his arm with a pull, a twist upwards, a knee into his gut before you came down on his leg, shoving him aside with your upper body to send him staggering into the wall with a pained cry.  His board clattered to the ground as the one who had been right behind you suddenly tackled you to the ground, your knees coming up to your chest in the fall so you could push him up and over your head once your back hit the stone.  You all got back to your feet at roughly the same time, the two now between you and the mouth of the alley, and you knew there had to be about three somewhere behind you, so you needed to go forward, through these two assholes.

You put your hands up and fell into an at-the-ready stance.

Back to training, then.

You could practically feel Levi’s eyes on you on the training field, one of the only recruits who didn’t say a word of complaint about being taught to handle armed opponents even past basic training, when the Scouts were supposed to be fighting Titans, not humans.  You took it seriously, actually put in the effort, actively listened to instructions and critiques, and didn’t utter a word of complaint.

Why the hell would you complain about being taught to protect yourself?

Now it seemed it was a good thing that had been the attitude you’d approached those lessons with, because you were going to need them.

One of them threw themselves at you with a shout and you side-stepped, pushing him past you with the help of his own momentum so you could focus on the guy who was trying to bring a fist down on your head, you leaned back just out of its path, stepped forward with your left, and brought your own fist in for a quick overhand punch with your right that connected with the man’s jaw.  The first came in from behind you again, an arm slipping around your neck--you’d thought you had another few seconds before you’d have to face him again, hoping he’d fallen on his face.  You leaned forward as much as you could and dropping one shoulder, sending the slim runner over your shoulder with his momentum to grab you from behind, stepping back and to the side with your other foot as he tumbled over you.  Your arms came back up just in time to block another punch from the other guy with your arm, your other hand flashing out to nail him in the nose with enough force to hear a satisfying crack before you jumped back.

Another ripping sound similar to when the bigger guy of the two you were facing had ripped off a board came from the end of the alley you had entered behind you, and you turned long enough to see a third guy pulling off a smaller board with a little more effort.

Three on one in a back alley, now.  You needed to get out of here, fast, before the rest could catch up.

Not wanting someone behind you again, you shifted, standing at the ready with your back to the wall between the two on the one end and the one on the other, coiled and ready to see who would come at you first.  The one with the board charged you, prompting you to turn enough to face him, eyeing the board that was held high and swinging towards you as he came within range.

You caught the board, cutting your thumb open on a jagged edge in the process but keeping your grip firm as the force caused your arms to fold against your chest.  With the man now within range, you pulled back just enough to give yourself enough room to kick him in the stomach, giving a push against the board at the same time to make sure he was send backwards.  Knowing the other two would be trying to grab you from behind, you turned swiftly, bending your arm and swinging around sharply with your elbow connecting with whichever one had reached you first.  You didn’t get the chance to see who it was before a shot suddenly rang out, shocking you enough you hesitated and were grabbed by the arm by the larger of your original two opponents.

Looking towards the other side of the alley you could see the other two members of the group had caught up, with one handing the still-smoking one shot pistol to the other, who was also giving him a second you were sure was already loaded and ready.  It was probably safe to assume the one who had fired a shot into the air was the leader, and he was now approaching slowly, the other man hanging back to reload the little pistol.

What the hell kind of a job and black market deal did these guys have to pull off to get their hands on two pistols?

You tried to twist out of the hold on your arm, but even in the dark of the alley you could see the glint of the loaded pistol well enough to tell you it was leveled directly at your head, making you still.  Another one of your original three attackers grabbed your other arm, the large man kicking the back of your leg to force you into a kneeling position.

“You’re quite the scrapper, aren’t you?  Almost more trouble than you’re worth,” the leader mused, coming to stand directly in front of you.  You tensed, pulling against the firm hands that held your arms and shoulders to force you into your kneeling position.  As you struggled, the leader brought the barrel of the gun to hover directly and unmistakably in front of your face, causing you to still again.  “I don’t like wasting bullets, so if you don’t want to die messy, I suggest you stay still in case I decide to just shoot you.”

“Boss, the whole point of chasing her down was to have a little fun with her!” the one who’d managed to stay on your ass during the chase complained.  He sounded winded.

“At first, but after seeing all that?  She might be able to overpower us if we keep her alive.  You want to risk her breaking free long enough to kill you, idiot?”  When no one made another complaint, the leader pressed the barrel of the gun against your forehead.  “Such a waste, too.  Sorry, Swee--”

Hands wrapped around the leader’s throat and one of his shoulders, so suddenly you weren’t sure you’d really seen it.  However, the fact that he was suddenly yanked into the shadows without a warning let you know you had seen them.  There was a visceral snapping sound a split second after the man had been grabbed, and before anyone could react, he was spat back out of the shadows as swiftly as they’d claimed him, thrown to the ground within sight of everyone, his neck snapped and body crumpled like a fallen handkerchief.

A feral snarl sounded from the darkness, and chaos erupted all around you.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi’s fingers threaded through the hair of tonight’s prey in a relentless grip, pressing their head down and into the ground while his other hand pulled their shoulder aside, leaving their neck stretched and exposed for him to sink his teeth into with little resistance.  They had stopped struggling long ago, the kicks and futile punches and pushed now absent, the trembling beneath him slowing to a complete stop.  He was able to drink deeply and undisturbed, hidden in the dark shadows of a dead end alley, the only sounds the occasional soft hum of pleasure and the sound of his teeth sinking deeper into flesh as he drank.  He focused on the sounds to drown out the rest of the Underworld, the pulse he'd originally listened to long gone.

He was starting to consciously enjoy it when he fed...and even picking the scum of the Underground to prey on, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

A loud sharp, familiar sound broke through Levi's filter, causing him to jerk back, head looking up towards the ceiling and tilted in the direction he'd heard the gunshot.  A rush of sounds and smells suddenly rushed towards him again now that he'd been abruptly jostled out of his feed, overwhelming him while he wiped some of the blood from his face and tried to sort through the sensory mess once more and find the source of a gunshot, head pounding.  The only people who were going to have guns down here were military and a lucky criminal who'd scored rather big--not ODM gear big, but still.

As he was trying to filter out the sound, the faintest whiff of a strong, familiar scent reached him.  After being bathed in it the night he'd transformed, he would never mistake that scent for anything else.  Y/N's blood.  And it had to have been spilled if he was able to smell her through the stench of the Underground.

What the hell was she doing down here?

Focusing on that scent and trying to hear what was near her at the same time, Levi slowly rose to his feet, eyes closed as he focused.  He could smell gunpowder in the air as well, could hear a concentration of heartbeats, most pounding from exertion, but one that possessed the familiar scent pounding faster from exertion and fear.  Then came the distant voices.

"...don’t want to die messy, I suggest you stay still in case I decide to just shoot you."

Dammit.

Levi was moving before he could finish putting together what was happening, focused on closing the distance between where he'd been and where Y/N was in danger before another gunshot could be fired.  The man who’d fired the shot was still talking with someone, making it easier for Levi to narrow down where they were.  He stayed in the shadows even with his speed, making sure that he kept the element of surprise so that he could be sure to kill whoever had the gun first, before they had the chance to shoot again.

He could smell her blood, too.  Did that mean she’d already been shot?  How bad was her wound?  If he got too close, could he resist?

He’d worry about that when he got there.

As soon as the scene of five men gathered around Y/N came into view, with one of them pressing the barrel of a pistol against her forehead, Levi’s blood boiled into a blind rage.  The shadows around him blurred as he rushed forward, grabbing the man with the gun and pulling him into the shadows.  He noticed there was a second man reloading the pistol that must have made the first shot, so he made his kill quick, snapping the man’s neck and pushing the body away without a second thought.  The other armed man wildly swung around with the gun when he saw the dead body, a snarl ripping past Levi’s lips as he barreled into the armed man, sending him flying and colliding with the wall of once of the buildings he heard bones snapping as he was sent through the wall.  Instincts taking over, including his newly acquired, monstrous ones, Levi went after one of the two men restraining Y/N next, moving too fast for the group of five to have even hope to react in defense.

Pulling the large man into the shadows and away from Y/N, effectively breaking his grip on her, Levi sank his teeth into the man’s neck, blood flowing free and unrestrained as he tore into the man’s throat with the intent to kill.  He was able to drink quite a bit in the process, only because he didn’t let go until the man’s pulse started to stutter beneath his lips and he was sure the blood loss alone would kill him.

Looking at the two remaining, Y/N had taken the chance with their stunned state and the fact she only had one person holding onto her now to attack the other man restraining her.  She didn’t look hurt in the slightest as she pulled her restrainer towards her and kneed him in the gut, but he could still smell the blood she’d spilled at some point.

At the moment, however, his attention was drawn to the second still standing man who was now trying to attack Y/N from behind while she was busy with her restrainer.  Levi rushed the second man as well, not bothering to hide in the shadows now as he ripped into the slender man’s throat just as he’d done to Y/N’s other restrainer, waiting until the pulse stuttered and the blood loss turned fatal before he dropped the body to the ground and turned to face the last man.

Y/N had knocked him to the ground by now, the man staring in horror at Levi.  He must have been quite the sight.  When he’d fed before this mess, he’d only had blood on his face, neck, and around his collar, since he was gradually improving with how messy he was when he fed.  Now, however, after ripping out two throats, the blood stained his front as well.  His eyes glowed a vivid crimson and pierced through the dark of the alley, fangs flashing as he licked away a thicker trail of blood while he approached the last man.  Levi grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, picking him up with ease and pinning him against the wall.

“Demon--” the man hardly managed to squeak out.  Something in Levi burned at the accusation, his grip on the man’s shirt tightening.

No witnesses, no loose ends.  Unless he wanted his situation public legend or knowledge, depending on how much people were willing to believe.

Without a word, Levi sank his teeth into the man’s throat, covering the man’s mouth with his hand to muffle the screams even though they didn’t last long.  As he drank and the pulse below his lips eventually slowed to a stop, Levi listened and thought about what he would do next.

The only other sounds in the alley came from behind him, from Y/N.  She hadn’t moved, was hardly breathing, her heartbeat wild from adrenaline and a sense of fear, and it only seemed to be beating faster as she watched him drain the life from her last attacker.

What the hell had possessed her to make her think that following Levi into the Underground when he came here to feed was a good idea?  The Underground was already dangerous, especially at night, especially with something like him lurking in the darkness looking for a meal.  Her foolhardy determination to blow past his insistence they not be anywhere near one another was going to get her killed--it nearly had.

Levi felt his blood chill, even if he was still drinking in fresh warm blood.  What would happen next?  How many more reckless ideas would she get, how much farther was she going to push?  Was she really willing to push her luck until she died while he was trying to keep her safe from him?  What did he have to do to make her back off, for her to realize how serious this was, that she couldn’t be anywhere near him, that she couldn’t follow after him like this?  Did he have to scare her off?  At this rate, it was the only thing he could think of that might actually work.  But how far was he willing to go to scare her enough to protect her?  At the moment, she already had some fear lingering in her.  If he didn’t wait too long, he could work with it; there might be a chance that he wouldn’t have to do too much if she was already afraid.  He just had to scare her a little one time to make her leave him alone.

He was a little dizzy at the moment, feeling almost drunk on the sheer volume of blood he’d just consumed in such a short span of time.  He could muscle through it, though.  Ride the high just long enough to do what he had to.

Steeling his resolve, Levi released the now limp body in his arms, rushing Y/N and pinning her against the wall with a hand around her throat.  His fangs were bared, eyes still glowing crimson, fresh blood still smeared across his face and front as he snarled.  His thumb was placed strategically on her pulse point, able to feel as her heartbeat doubled its speed.  He was trying to subtly watch her reaction to know when he’d done enough, his thumb tracing lightly along the vein on her neck, but not biting yet.  She was tense, holding her breath, heartbeat racing wildly, and yet...after the first few seconds…

She let out a slow, shaking breath, her heartbeat starting to gradually and slightly calm down.

“You’re just trying to scare me.  It’s not going to work, Levi.”

He didn’t answer.  Instead, he let his fingers tilt her neck to the side, well aware that he was pushing his limits, playing a dangerous game in his attempt to convince her that if she didn’t stay away from him, he’d kill her.  His lips brushed against her neck, his fangs feeling like they were aching in desperation to sink into her neck.  He could remember what she tasted like--he hadn’t had anything better, since.  Only the scum of the Underground that left a chemically, filthy aftertaste in his mouth.  But her…

He struggled against those thoughts, willing himself not to give into them.  He didn’t want to bite her, not really.  He just wanted to scare her.

They were both perfectly still, neither of them even breathing loudly or heavily, just tense, each waiting for the other to make a move.  What was she thinking?  Was she trying to call his bluff?  Did she believe he wouldn’t bite her?  Was she thinking of last time she’d bet on his restraint, how it had been thrown back in her face when he almost killed her?  Was she trying to figure out how far he’d go to make her stay away?  Was she trying to decide if he would really bite her again to make her run?

He was wondering the same thing.  He’d pretty much sworn that he wouldn’t bite her again for any reason, and yet, he found himself in a position where a warning bite seemed like an option, just enough to make her realize he was serious, just enough to scare her off...but he didn’t trust his control once he started drinking from her.  Especially now, smelling the heady aroma of her blood again, so much better than what he’d been feeding on down here in the Underground for a while now.  But did the risk really outweigh the possible result?  He had just drained four fairly big men of their blood, maybe he’d had enough it wouldn’t be too hard to stop...maybe.  Did he really want to take that risk, to hurt her once again even if it was only a little, for the chance he might finally make her run away from him instead of towards him, so she’d be safe?

He waited a moment too long.  Without warning, Y/N suddenly pushed him back, and Levi gave easily against the action, backing away a few steps and looking away.  He had hardly put any of his strength into the motion, only meaning to scare, not harm her, wanting her to be able to push him away and bolt when he finally scared her enough to make her run.  Clearly, she’d seen right through his actions and to his true intention.

His fangs retracted, the crimson in his eyes fading to a simple red glint, and he was suddenly quite conscious of the fact that he was covered in blood.  Knowing it wouldn’t do him much good but wanting to make the attempt anyway, he tried wiping some of the blood from his face, refusing to look at Y/N as he did so.

He could run, but it wouldn’t do him any good.  This talk was apparently inevitable, even if he deemed it inconsequential, pointless.  She wasn’t going to change his mind.  He’d already decided to cut her out--it was better for both of them if he did, rather than drag her down any further into this...mess.

“If you’re thinking of making a run for it, don’t,” she warned, as if she could read him as easily as a book.  The fact he chose to look down the dark alley instead of at her probably gave the idle thought he’d had away.

“Why the hell are you down here?” he growled instead of addressing her accusation.

“It’s your fault I am!  How else was I supposed to try and catch you to talk with you running from me like a kid instead of a grown ass man--”

“I’m not running from you, I told you to stay away from me from the start.  You’re the one who apparently didn’t get the message,” Levi returned in a low tone.

“Oh, I heard you, I just chose to ignore it because you’re being--”

“If you end that sentence with what I think you’re about to--”

“What?  What are you going to do, Levi?  Just because you don’t like hearing what I have to say, because you know its true?”

Anger was bubbling up inside him with rapidly multiplying strength.  He was trying to push it down, to clamp down on it for both their sakes, but it was a struggle he was losing the longer this argument went on.  He could tell she was frustrated even though he still hadn’t looked at her, that she was hurt, that it was bubbling up as well and that was why she was so aggressive at the moment, but he didn’t care.  Every word she threw at him, no matter how cutting, only stoked that anger right now.

“--damn it, Levi, look at me, will you?”

She flinched back from the anger in his eyes when he finally met her gaze, the red glint in his eyes growing stronger.  He took the chance to throw in a few sharp words of his own.

“You’re the one acting worse than a child.  At least a child’s ignorant when they stick their hand in the fire.  You’re the dumbass that tries to jump feet first to see if its hot no matter how many times you’ve been burned before.  A fucking incompetant idiot with a death wish is what you are!”

He’d never called her incompetant or incapable in any way before.  Before all this happened, she hadn’t been, he hadn’t been worried about her being able to handle herself, hadn’t thought that it would be a stupid decision or a hasty, rash action that got her killed.  Now, he was afraid her pigheadedness was going to lead to her getting killed because of him, directly or, after tonight, indirectly.

That was the other emotion swirling inside him under all the anger.  Fear.

She stuck out her chin in defiance, though he saw a flash of pain in her eyes at his words that were spoken with a harsh tone that let her know it wasn’t just his gruff exterior talking.  “Trying to shove me out isn’t going to work when I know that’s what you’re doing, Levi.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Levi snapped.  “What part of ‘stay away from me or you’ll get hurt again’ did you not understand?  What about me almost killing you the other night didn’t get through your head and trigger some common sense?  How could you not understand the words I will kill you?  I don’t want you anywhere near me, Y/N--”

“I already have been hurt, Levi!  I’m already a part of this, and I want to help, what part of that don’t you understand?”

“The part where you suddenly became so intent to fucking die!” he snarled.

Even more infuriatingly, she ignored that exclamation and tried to switch to her version of cold facts.  “You’re still not in control,” she said flatly, and Levi turned his back on her, already starting to walk away.  She simply followed, still talking.  “You’re not!  You’re coming down here and ripping people to shreds, past recognition.  You still don’t know how to control your bloodlust when you feed!  What happens when someone gets wounded on an expedition and they’re bleeding all over the place in front of you?  What happens if for some reason you lose control and you bite the wrong person?  What are you going to do, Levi?  Can you say that you’re going to stop, really?  With the bodies you’ve been leaving that’s already getting you a shadowy reputation below and above ground?  No!”

“None of this has anything to do with you.  It’s not about you, its not effecting you, its not your problem, Y/N.  You’re just desperately trying to insert yourself to feel important,” he spat out.  He didn’t believe the last part, but he just wanted her to go away, to leave him alone like he’d asked.  His hands were clenched into fists to hide the tremble, teeth clenched--

“I’m trying to help you because I want to.  Its not that hard to understand, Levi.  You need help, like it or not.  You can’t keep attracting attention by feeding like this.  You need to find someone who’s willing so you don’t have to keep feeding like this and to help you learn control, and you already know I--”

He blocked her out after that.  Stopping in the middle of his angry prowl through the dark alleys, body rigid, hands flexing in and out of fists.  His mind called back the intoxicating nature of her blood, how easy it had been to lose himself, the blood all over himself and the bed and drained from her body, how close she came to dying before a wild guess and a futile prayer managed to be just enough to bring her back from the brink.  She wanted that to happen again?  To offer her blood just for him to lose himself and drain her dry?  He couldn’t remember how she’d struggled or plead with him because it was a euphoric haze in his mind, but he’d felt his prey down here struggle for their lives, heard them plead before he cut off or muffled their cries.  His stomach lurched, threatening to send him forwards as his mind fabricated the vivid image of Y/N struggling in his grasp and gasping for him to stop as he drained her dry, too far gone to even flinch in reaction to her dying moments.  He wouldn’t let it happen.  He wouldn’t.  He refused, and no matter what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let it become reality, he wasn’t going to set up her pointless death by giving in.  He had to make her run from him now and never look back, had to make her see that he could and would hurt her--kill her--if she kept going down this path.  Now.  While he was still so gorged on blood he could stop himself out of raw satisfaction with all he’d drank.

“You’re so desperate for me to feed off of you again,” he said in a steady tone, interrupting whatever she’d been saying after he’d blocked her out.  “Fine.”

Once more, Levi pinned her against the wall.  Except this time he wasn’t gentle about it, and this time his grip didn’t give her even a hair’s breath of space to move.  His hand was firmly on her throat and angling her head upwards, the crimson in his eyes blazing once again with enough infuriated intensity he could see the glint of their glow reflected in her wide eyes.

“Let me remind you what you’re in for.”

Before he could second guess, before doubts could encroach, before he even had the chance to weigh the consequences, Levi bit down on her collar.  Hard.  She cried out in pain, the sound cut off when he squeezed her throat just enough to make her quiet.  The blood didn’t come nearly as easily as it would have if he’d bitten her neck, but that was part of the reason he’d bitten here instead.  Still, even after drinking from four people minutes ago, her blood tasted divine compared to the blood he’d been drinking in the Underground, the euphoria from last time starting to return.

Without the need for blood, Levi’s struggle to ignore the euphoria was a little easier, and no matter how much it hurt, Levi focused on every other part of Y/N to try and stave off the haze long enough.

She was trying to push him off--not that it was doing anything to stop him.  He could feel her pulse rapidly picking up pace, his grip almost bruising and keeping her firmly pinned against the wall.  She kept telling him to stop, to get off, called his name.  He heard every word.  It cut like shards of glass burrowing into his heart and lungs, blood still flowing past his lips with his teeth sinking relentlessly into her flesh.  He didn’t stop.

The commands turned to pleas.  The shoves turned to blows that wouldn’t even bruise him.  He kept her pinned against the wall, eyes burning but closed, teeth embedded in her collar, his grip tight both to hold her in place but also because of the coiling tension inside him listening to her plead with him to let her go.  He still didn’t stop.

Then he tasted it.  Felt it in her pulse and her posture, in the hot tears that fell on his face and neck.  Heard it in her voice.  True fear.  Normally, in a twisted way, it made blood taste better, somehow richer.  Now, it was almost acidic, leaving a nasty aftertaste as Levi finally, instantly let her go.  The abrupt motion made her crumple to the ground with a sob…

But by the time she’d have enough cognitive thought to look up, he would already be gone.  As soon as he let her go he walked away.  He didn’t have a destination in mind, didn’t pick a direction to head to eventually get back to the surface.  He simply walked, wiping the blood from his face again with trembling hands, eyes unseeing the paths he followed even if he was subconsciously using his other senses to guide him away from anyone who was still out in the streets this late at night.  It was like he was in a daze, walking without thinking, without seeing, without any sense of direction.  The longer he didn’t think, the better, because if he started thinking again, if he thought about it, if he thought, if he…

Where was he even going?  Where was he now?  He was alone, at least...completely.

His body shuddered, as if in anticipation as the daze started to pass, some part of him getting him to whisper a soft ‘shit’ before the thoughts started to rush towards him.  He tried to stave them off a few moments longer.

I had to do it.

I had to.

I had to, for her sake.

For her sake, I...

He kept trying to repeat the thought enough to convince himself.  His hand reached out to steady himself against the nearest wall.  His shaking hands clenched into fists.

I had to do it, I had to, I had to.

His face was wet.  Not just with blood--he could see pinkish drops of hot tears escape from the tip of his nose and the edge of his jaw and chin.  His teeth ground painfully together, jaw feeling like it would snap from the pressure as he leaned against the wall his fist had been pressed against, feeling his shoulder start to slowly slide downwards in halting bursts.

I...I had...

It felt like someone had gutted him.  Now, as he started to come out of his haze, he felt hollow, as if an amature had gutted him with a dull blade and simply took everything.  Everything except a suddenly overwhelming self-hatred that pierced and burned through him from the inside out, causing short gasps to burst past his lips despite the instinctual effort to keep it all in.

I made the wrong choice.

I made the wrong choice.

He shouldn’t have done it, but he did.  He’d really sunk this low, and he hated himself all the more because of it.  He should never have let himself make that choice.  He knew it was wrong, that was why it had gutted him even as he’d done it, he knew, but he did it anyway.

Why?  Why?

Am I really that desperate?

If I’m really this desperate, was she really wr--

No.

No...no, he’d made his choice.  It was done, it was over.  He’d knowingly hurt her to make her afraid of him, to make her leave, and she wasn’t ever going to look at him the same way again.  Just like he’d wanted so desperately to do in the moment.

The damage was done.

He had to accept it.

He had to live with it now, no matter how much it hurt him.

He’d done it to himself.

He’d done it to them.

And he couldn’t take it back.

It was far too late for that.

*Reader’s POV*

Nights had become a ritual of terror for you.

Every night, without fail, this very thing happened.

The lights were out, like they were supposed to be, so there wasn’t a fire, so occupants could sleep, because it was night.  Yet you stood frozen in place in the dark, the heat of the lamp dissipating the longer you stood frozen in place, staring into the darkness around you.  It was your room, but it felt like something sinister was watching you in the shadows.  And as soon as that thought crossed your mind, they were there.  Vivid and crimson, glowing from the shadows, freezing you in place as the demonic eyes pierced fear straight to your core.  Your chest tightened, breaths coming in shallow, painful bursts as your gaze locked with them.

You knew, logically, they weren’t there, but that didn’t change the fact that you saw them, didn’t change the sweat that dampened your skin, the chill that wouldn’t leave you, the struggle to breath, the inability to move, the unbridled fear they caused.

Lighting lamps to try and cast out the darkness for a little while was the obvious first choice, but it only made things worse.  They couldn’t light every corner, the dim light making the shadows longer and the darkness more prominent where the light couldn’t reach it.  Every time you let one of those shadowy corners slip into your peripherals it looked like there was someone right behind you, looming to attack.  And the lamps couldn’t stay on all night.

The only thing left was to blow out the lights so a fire couldn’t start, hiding under the covers like some frightened child before the fear could paralyze you.  The blanket was pulled over your head, your trembling yet rigidly tense body curled into a fetal position with your eyes squeezed shut.  Your mind relentlessly conjured up the image of fangs flashing towards you, those red eyes burning as they grew closer and closer to where you were huddled helplessly under a sheet in complete darkness.

But opening your eyes was worse.  Opening your eyes you’d have to face the darkness, and your mind whispered that once you opened them, your nightmares would be real, that you’d see the dark figure with the red eyes and the bloody fangs right in front of you, and as soon as you saw them, they’d attack.  With your eyes closed you could feel them there, but they still hadn’t touched you.  If you opened your eyes, it was over.  You couldn’t stand staring at the open dark of your room, without knowing what was hiding within.

And this wasn’t just your nightly ritual.  Even in the day you saw the eyes in your peripherals, in the shadowy places, glimpsed in passing and making you jump at shadows.

And if you did manage to fall asleep at night...the nightmares came.  Nightmares where you could feel it all again, could see just those damn crimson eyes, could feel the teeth sinking repeatedly into your flesh until you woke with strangled screams and muffled sobs, futility struggling to recover some sense of composure.

What made it worse was you didn’t have the comfort of being told it was just a dream, just your mind playing tricks on you, that none of it was real.

Your nightmares had already been real once.  Who was to say they wouldn’t become real again?

*Levi’s POV*

Headquarters was perfectly quiet.  The only sound was the occasional snore, soft, steady heartbeats, and breathing of most people in the building fast asleep.  The sounds he made in the kitchen as he went about making a cup of tea seemed loud in comparison, even if he knew for a fact that he was the only one who could hear them.

His insomnia had been relentless for days now, only able to catch snippets of uneasy rest in bursts that didn’t even amount to an hour on their own.  It was why he was down here now, water starting to bubble in a kettle, the mixture for a chamomile tea at the ready.  If he didn’t find a way to sleep, soon, he’d have to ask Hange to help him--he was that desperate for a solution.

Not that she would want to help him.

Hange opened and shut the door with a resounding slam that made cadets in the hall freeze as she stormed into Levi’s office, glasses propped atop her head to clearly display the unbridled anger in her eyes.  ”What the hell did you do?”

He knew why he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“I treated the bite, Levi.  I know what happened.”

Once he heard the water bubbling in the kettle, Levi went about slowly pouring the water into his cup, eyes unfocused as his thoughts came back to plague him in the silence of the kitchen.

”She followed me into the Underground, Hange.  I just gave her a scare so she would finally stay away like I told her to.”

“Oh, you did more than that.”

“...What are you talking about?”

“Shit,” he cursed, yanking his hand back as he spilled some of the hot water onto his hand, setting the kettle down a little too roughly, trying to clean up the mess and ignore the burning in his hand.

“Have you seen Y/N lately?”

“No, and I don’t expect to, if she finally listened.”

“Keep up that attitude, Levi, and I’ll skewer you; I know you’ll heal.  You went too far, Levi.”

He’d been picking up the too-full tea cup, and as Hange’s words from the memory pierced him far deeper with his recently acquired knowledge, his grip tightened, and the cup shattered under his hand.  Flesh burning from the hot tea, herbs smearing against the now fresh wounds in his hands, crimson blending into the only temporarily yellowish orange liquid as the blood spilled down his hands, and bits of the cup stuck in his hand, while the rest lay shattered on the floor.

”She forgave you for the first one, and for good reason.  But this?”

--Late at night, just beyond the stone of the wall, behind two simple wooden doors, Levi could hear the only other occupant in the castle that was awake right now.  Her heartbeat was erratic with unbridled terror and emotional pain.  It had been her strangled scream that only Levi could hear that had pierced the quiet of Headquarters, the scream now reduced to muffled, body wracking sobs into a pillow or a blanket.--

Levi kneeled down in front of his mess, still-injured hands reaching out to try to pick up the shattered cup, to gather up the broken pieces, to clean up his mess.  He kept cutting his hands again, though.  He didn’t know how, he knew how to be careful, knew how to be gentle so he didn’t cut himself, didn’t break anything further.  But right now, he kept drawing more blood, kept inflicting fresh wounds on his hands and watching the small ones heal almost too fast to even notice they were there while the garish pieces sticking out of his hand and openly bleeding still showed, glaring at him in the dim lighting.

”Erwin’s already mentioned he might have to dismiss her as unfit for duty.  We both know she didn’t have anything else besides the Scouts before, and now...”

The damn cup was broken.  He didn’t even know why he was trying to recover each little piece, like he was actually going to try and reassemble it, like he could somehow fix it.  The cup was broken and he couldn’t fix it.

It’s broken, and he can’t fix it.

Broken, and he can’t fix it.

Broken, and can’t fix it.

Broken…

Broken...

”Levi, stop, please!”

--He was alone in the hall.  His lips were parted, but no sound came out, eyes half lidded, but glinting bright and wet in the moonlight with unrestrained pain, head leaning back against the stone with his chin tilted upwards towards the sky.  The sobs continued through the stone behind him, and he let out a slow, shaking breath before he slowly pushed away from the wall--

“Fuck!” Levi suddenly shouted, hand slamming against the mess in front of him, hand slicing open even further as more shards of the cup found its way into his hand or shattered even further from the force of the blow.  Blood dripped steadily onto his mess, painting everything that same, garish color, staining everything he touched.

He grabbed at the wrist of his injured hand, only then realizing his hands had been shaking the entire time.

”Levi, please!”

--he ducked his head low and tried not to hear the sobs that were already resounding mercilessly in his head, blending into the darkness with ease while his hand trailed absently along the stone as he walked away.

Next Part--->

Levi Tags:  @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo

Investment Series Tags:  @regalillegal​ @cecldcecld​

Vampire Levi Tags:  @mysteriousmagicx @thesilencebeforeastorm​ @super-peace-fangirl​ @psychiccvampire

[pathogenic]

Chapter 1: The Necromancer

I am just going ham tonight, so have the first chapter.

Nothing much in terms of warnings outside of violence and blood.

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Necromancer

Chapter 2: The Prophet

Chapter 3: The Hag

Chapter 4: The Brigand Vvulf

Chapter 5: The Brigand’s Cannon

Chapter 6: The Drowned Crew

Chapter 7: The Siren

Chapter 8: The Swine God

Chapter 9: The Formless Flesh

Chapter 10: The Ancestor

Epilogue

To start our journey, I thought it would be best to start with the location not far from the road we crashed on. Our townsfolk rely upon the road for trade and should there be dangerous monsters crashing carts, I fear the already delicate shops could be forced to close for good. If that were to happen, I fear I would not have any idea how we would secure our food and our weapons to continue our quest.

I chose Reynauld, Dismas, and two new faces to journey with me to the place my carriage had crashed. One was an ex-nun of sorts. She said her name was Julia and that she was currently exploring the world to better understand herself and her faith. The people of this land believe in something that they call The Light. Though I myself am not a religious woman, I can understand the importance of faith. I did muse that perhaps our dark Hamlet could use some light since the oppressive rain clouds allow so little through. Julia, unfortunately, did not appreciate my joke much.

Despite our differences in humor, Julia does bring something important to the Hamlet. While we have a church, I’m afraid the state of it is quite sad. The townsfolk have lost much of their faith, which resulted in few of them attending services. The one priest who does work there finds it hard to call in for the repairs due to the lack of interest and the lack of resources. Since Julia has arrived, more people have started to attend, if only to speak with her and find comfort in the idea that even in our little Hamlet, the Light can reach them and they can see a possible future once again.

The other is a medical student who comes from a rather big-name medical school. Initially I was about to turn her away, fearing that she was one of the glory-seeker, but she refused to leave the Hamlet. There was very little I could do about this since we do not have anything akin to a guard in our town, but thankfully she proved to be of great help. Her name is Paracelsus and her theories on disease helped keep an outbreak from happening within the village. At this point I felt I had no choice but to allow her to come after all. We do not know what waits for us just outside of the Hamlet, her skills could come in handy and keep us from meeting a truly awful fate.

Our group made back into the forest that circled the Hamlet and retraced our steps. It wasn’t long until we found the bones of the skeletons we defeated and walked it to the cart. From there, I must admit we were a bit at a loss. While I do have a keen eye in a laboratory, I am afraid the same cannot be said for the wild. We were fortune that Dismas was and was able to find footsteps for us to follow. However, it is exceptionally difficult to tell the difference between what footsteps were from the inhabitants of the Hamlet and what were of the skeletons, so there were many false leads before we finally found ourselves at the entrance of a new building.

The door was barely raised from the ground and opened to a set of stairs. We were fortunate to have the mind to bring torches since as we descended those stairs, we found ourselves surrounded by complete and total darkness. What hid behind that unassuming door was a wide, sprawling dungeon that seemed to go back towards the Hamlet. There was no mention of any structure like this in the records I could find of the Hamlet, so my ancestor had to have built it in secret and hid it away from the road. I couldn’t help but wonder why he would need a dungeon like this.

Initially, we thought it to be empty, but as we traveled deeper into the winding halls of the dungeon, we were met with more of those skeletons. The acted without mercy as they attacked. It seemed their one and only goal in their afterlife was to attack anything that they encountered. I would have said anything that was alive, but it turns out we were not the only living things in that dungeon. There were also human beings in strange, brutal clothes with spikes and blades designed to inflict wounds on anyone they met. Any attempts to speak with them and to learn why they were living in an old, dark dungeon were met with violence, so their purpose is still a mystery to me.

As we journeyed further into the dungeon, we started to find old books and even some places where we assumed guards would have rested back when the dungeons were operational. The books were apparently journals that my ancestor had kept. Many of them were far too damaged with mildew and age to be legible, but what we did find was concerning. Evidently the dungeon was used so he could explore the forbidden art of Necromancy. It details the accounts he had with a scholar he had met overseas. Apparently, he had brought this man back to the Hamlet to study with him withing the dungeon. My ancestor had a knack for the arcane, so it did not take him very long to master the lessons the man had taught him and before the year was over, he found that there was little the man could teach him. Once my ancestor came to this conclusion, he committed an awful, grisly act and killed the man as he slept and decided to bring him back, and it worked. The man was of his own mind, still had his own abilities, and was capable of raising the dead on his own. My ancestor thought of this as an amazing achievement, worthy of pride. I do not think I have to detail why I felt disgusted by what I read.

It was at this point it was when Julia started to point out that many of the skeletons were dressed as either guardsmen or commoners and we were faced with the possibility that these were likely townsfolk that were killed and then experimented upon. At least, we hope that was the order as we have nothing to confirm or deny these suspicions.

Still, despite our fears, we still had business we needed to finish before we could return to the Hamlet. We were aware that the Dungeon was home to an undead Necromancer, and it was likely that was the source for the skeletons. If we killed him for good, then it was one less problem, so deeper we traveled until we couldn’t take one more step.

Unfortunately, sleeping in a dungeon is not a comfortable experience. We made ourselves a campfire to keep our area well lit so we could see if anyone was attempting to ambush us and then we set up a rotation for a watch so everyone could at least get some rest before we continued our journey. I stayed up the first rotation with Dismas and discovered that he was an incredibly lucky man. I’m afraid I was almost fifty gold lighter that night. Beyond my loss, our rotation went by without a problem and after a few hours, we traded off with Reynauld.

To this day, I am certain it was a mistake to leave him to watch the camp alone. Unfortunately, the Crusader was not as awake as we would have hoped and within the hour, he was asleep again. We were all awoken by the sounds of weapons clattering on armor. At some point those cultists had closed in on our camp with some of the undead soldiers. They snuffed out our fire and then attacked. I fumbled to find a torch and the matches, but eventually I did manage a spark and the kerosene wrapped cloth ignited and showed the gruesome fight. 

Reynauld was standing tall, longsword in hand as he flailed about wildly as he had no clue where the attacks were coming from. Once it registered that he could see again, he directed his attacks and was quick to aid Dismas, who was currently caught between two tall cultists with cruel arm-blades. I fear what would have happened were I few seconds slower. Julia turned out to be more of a menace that I had anticipated with her mace and had successfully bashed in a few skulls even without the light. She fought valiantly with her mace in one hand, her bible in the other. Paracelsus, however, seemed to have gotten the worst of the attacks. Even through her dark clothes, I could see the red that was seeping through where she was undoubtedly stabbed by a blade. She attempted to stand with her dagger in hand, but the pain proved to be too much and she was back on her knees.

I did the only thing I could in this situation and ran over, taking her dagger and attempted to defend her until the others could come over and provide aid. I admit that at the time I did not have any clue on how to use a weapon properly, so my “attacks” were nothing more than wild swings in the direction of the enemy, keeping them at bay. Thankfully, I did not have the keep up this shoddy tactic for long as Dismas was quick to provide cover fire. Each shot echoed harshly within the walls of the dungeon, but for once I welcomed each bang for they hit true and fell our attackers within moments.

Once our assailants were dealt with, Julia quickly knelt by Paracelsus’ side and performed a curious act. With her book open, she read versus about the light. She laid her hand over Paracelsus’ wound and as she finished, the wound stopped bleeding. It was still severe, but we did not have to worry that our doctor would bleed out on us. However, this left us with a new, and difficult question. We could continue and deal with the Necromancer, or we could return to the Hamlet and allow Paracelsus to heal. The doctor tried to insist that she was fine to continue, but with so few numbers, I was not eager to lose who we did have, so I made the call to go back the way we came and ensure that we would not lose anyone today. 

Thankfully getting out was far easier than getting to where we were. We simply had to follow the trail of dead back to the door and then follow the road back to the Hamlet. There we got Paracelsus to the Sanitarium as that is the closest thing we have to a hospital currently. There, she was treated and was allowed to rest.

As our good doctor recovered, I was back onto the task of finding more adventurers. I was not keen on the idea of sending Paracelsus back in the moment she recovered, but I also did not want to wait to see if the dead would push back out from that dungeon. No, we needed to find and kill the undead Necromancer if we were to find any peace for the Hamlet. This search resulted in a meeting with a rather curious man.

He claimed to be a noble from a distant kingdom who left due to his illness. He heard of the Hamlet and started his journey our way to attempt to aid the people here before he finally succumbed to his sickness. I did offer him the best treatment we could give him for his leprosy, but he politely turned it down, insisting that we save those resources for the other adventurers. He claimed his case was so advanced that it would do so little. His disease already ate away at his nerves, so there was no pain. From what bits of skin I could see despite his mask and his wraps, I did not doubt his words and so I allowed him in. He told me that his name was Baldwin and I could not help but feel like I had heard of his name before. He mentioned that he was a noble, so it was likely that he came from some family fascinated with science that funded my lab at some point, so I let it pass and took him to his garrison.

Naturally, we have him in his own building to ensure that his illness does not spread. He claimed to prefer the solitude anyways, though I am not sure how honest that was. As far as I was concerned, he was simply putting on a brave face for those around him, but no matter what, it was simply the way things had to be to ensure the safety of the Hamlet.

Regardless, I allowed Baldwin a day to adjust to life in the Hamlet before we set back out to the dungeons, eager to deal with the undead Necromancer beneath. As we ventured, I informed our new companion of the situation. He was silent the whole time I spoke, but I could have sworn I saw his lip raise in the disgust when I looked back at him to make sure he was even listening. If he was a nobleman, then I had figured he owned land and looked over others. His disgust was understandable. Once I finished, he made a comment about how our attack would be a purifying flame to this ravaged land.

We followed our trail back to where we last stopped and pressed further on, going deeper and deeper until eventually we found ourselves at grand wooden doors. We were careful to be as guarded as possible as we pushed open those doors, hoping that the Necromancer wouldn’t attack while we struggled with the heavy doors. However, we hoped for too much. Naturally we were met with more undead fiends as we pushed our way in. At the back of the room stood a man in flowing red robes. His face was obscured by a strange mask that I could not see into, but we could see his gnarled, decaying hands as he pointed to us. He said nothing, but we could hear his haggard breaths and hisses as his raised minions fell upon us.

Thankfully between the might of Reynauld and Baldwin, the skeletal figures did not stand much of a chance. Dismas stayed with me near the door and fired shot after shot at the figure. Initially it would take the bullet without any visible distress, but as the battle waned on, the shots earned snarls and distressed hisses from the Necromancer.

Julia worked hard to keep Reynaud and Baldwin on their feet as they continued to carve their path towards the Necromancer. Eventually, the Necromancer did run out of subjects to send out and was forced to face the two warriors head on. He slung spells their direction and singed their armor, undoubtedly causing burns inside the metal armor, but in the end, his frail form was no match for their blades and Dismas’ bullets. As he collapsed into a heap upon the ground, we began to build a small pyre from the wood within the room, fearing that he would simply come back to life somehow if we left the body. His half-decayed form burned easily, though I do not think I would forget the smell anytime soon.

With our task completed, we set back to the Hamlet to nurse wounds and to plot our next course of action. During this time, I fully settled into my ancestor’s home. It is a lavish building and I admit to feeling a touch guilty living within such a luxurious home. Though it is covered completely in dust and grime, the house is simply astounding. I took a day to clean it so my allergies would stop bothering me. Dismas and Julia pitched in upon seeing my sorry state, my eyes and my nose could hardly stop running until the place was clear of dust.

Once the house was livable again, I set into the study and attempted to find more writings that my ancestor had produced. It turned out there was no shortage of them and they were in far better condition than those found in the dungeon, though I am not sure if it is because they were newer or if they were simply better protected inside this home. Still, I combed through his texts. Most were mundane accounts of business and trade and how the village was thriving. If there were more texts about his adventures into the arcane, they simply did not exist in this study.

Though my search was not fruitless. I did find one entry that was curious. My ancestor mentioned something about a public execution, however the execution failed. He mentioned some sort of prophet he had bound and left to be humiliated by the public before he was to be hanged. I was unsure of his crime, my ancestor did not list them in this account, but he did express frustration that this prophet somehow broke free from his post and fled. He claims that he think the prophet fled below the city.

It was odd, but I could not help but feel worried that the prophet fled to the dungeon. By now, he should be dead, but I saw no man in a stockade down below. I worried that there was more dead below with no master and we had no way of knowing that the death of the Necromancer would stop their movements.

I decided that we would need to return and do a clean sweep of the dungeons to make sure that the undead threat would be no more.