#ice chemist

[dailycharacteroption]

Ice Chemist (Alchemist Archetype)

(art by MagicalKaleidoscope on DeviantArt)

Do we have any Mr. Freeze fans in the audience. (We can all agree he should be called “Dr. Freeze”, right?)

Jokes aside, it’s often easy to assume that alchemists are “mad bombers” or pyromaniacs since they by default get fire-based weaponry as one of their core class features, but what if you don’t want that?

While fire and explosions are certainly very fancy and flashy, the sciences of chilling things, of cryogenics, are also very worthwhile. After all, We all know how refrigeration and freezing revolutionized food preservation, confectionary arts, and even medical science in the real world, so it only makes sense there would be alchemists exploring the applications of such in a fantasy game!

These so-called “ice chemists” Are most well-known for starting with icy cold bombs, but that is just the beginning! Later on they… well… they, um…

Huh. Aside from certain damaging extracts, there aren’t a lot of options directly related to cold in the ice chemist’s arsenals, and even those you have to choose to take as part of your normal spell selection.

Not that I mind such a simple archetype that only changes a little, but I feel like the ice chemist could have used a little expansion, at least being some optional discoveries that let them use their cryogenic arts in interesting ways. But we’ll get into making the most of your ice chemist later on. For now, let’s look at what they can do!

At it’s core, the ice chemist does exactly as promised, changing the base bomb damage to cold, but otherwise functioning as normal bombs except that they don’t count as being frost bombs with their secondary effect at first, learning to use fire bombs counts as a discovery (including not being able to be used alongside other bomb-altering discoveries), and being unable to use the explosive or inferno bomb discoveries.

They also gain an inherent resistance to cold and can comfortably live in extreme cold as their bodies are altered and adapted to function where others would freeze.

And then they learn the frost-bomb discovery, purely to add the bonus effect to their bombs.

As you can see, aside from the resistance and cold damage, there isn’t a whole lot going on here, but it can serve as a good basis for a thematic character. Extracts like detonate, elemental touch, and dragon breath can make them somewhat good at damage dealing. Meanwhile, in keeping with the themes of cold and preservation, the various discoveries based around healing oneself and becoming more resilient through self-mummification are thematic choices. In the end, you can mostly build them like any other alchemist, but hopefully this plants some thematic seeds.

When I made the comparisons to Mr. Freeze earlier, that wasn’t a shallow take. Yes, these chemists alter their bodies to be comfortable well below freezing temperatures, but much like the aforementioned Dr. Victor Fries, there’s a lot of ways you can play such a character, their hearts could be metaphorically frozen, feeling little beyond dispassionate determination. Or they might have a secret, tragic warm spot, or perhaps unhealthy obsession. Or they may buck all of that to be passionate and kind despite being icy cold beings.

An unnatural chill has come to the forest of Arnu’s Sleep. Some suspect the machinations of a winter fey or a white dragon driven by rivals from the north. However the truth is stranger, a mad doctor experimenting with the creation of artificial winter, regardless of the toll it takes on the surrounding region.

For centuries, the lair of Luciana the Frozen has stood as part dungeon, part museum of the icy alchemists many discoveries over her career, even long after her death. Those who brave it will have to contend with ice-encrusted bone golems and other frosty guardians, to say nothing of the alchemist herself, preserved in lich-like immortality with a literal heart of ice.

Unusual for a leshy, Needlebranch enjoys winter more than any other season, and seeks to unlock the secrets of plant life that thrives in winter, from the mundane pines and cedars, to exotic flowers that poke out of mountain snow, and beyond.

[h-a-unted]

"You're positive this can dissolve a man's whole body?"

@gingerspiice

[miqojak]

Each card in Astrologian's divining deck, except for Lord and Lady, represent the six constellations of the planet's night sky. The symbols of The Twelve can be seen on the cards as well as the Divination ability introduced in Shadowbringers. When Astrologian was released, the night sky was simultaneously updated to clearly display the constellations. Astrologian was originally planned to be Chemist. Due to balancing problems with the Mix command and the desire to implement an all-new weapon type, the idea was scrapped. Mixing items turned into drawing cards. The Stormblood expansion built upon this with the ability to turn standard buff cards into attack or heal cards, further echoing the use of Mix commands from other titles.

I've decided to get some shots in the glams I actually use, instead of the fancy stuff that's just for taking pictures! This is... one of at least three AST glams that I have ?(there's one just for SGE too)Jak brings a very different vibe to the party as AST than most others...

[david-watts]

usually whenever I stop taking my medication it's because I'm miserable and/or suicidal but this time it's the opposite because I was both of those and it was the medication's fault. like the side effects became so bad that I'd rather risk what happens when I'm unmedicated than continue dealing with them

[narcotic-pharmacology]

[PRIVATE/ENCRYPTED]

Note:

Concentrate Ravnos plasma V strain for the next batch. Incorporate extract from deity H antler shed to reduce negative side effects.

Tweak formulation for better oral muccosal absorption.

[yeetus-feetus]

Today my mother made me go to the beach. And while I was there I let myself enjoy the water and sand between my toes.

After a little while I felt like crying.

I felt like crying because remembered the videos I had seen of Palestinian children playing in the water of their beaches, of parents chasing children around while they laughed, of people enjoying the water and feeling the sand between their toes.

Then I thought about how these people don't get to enjoy their beaches anymore. Because Israel won't let them, because Israel is bombing the families who used to play in the sand.

When we got in the car my mum rolled all the windows down, said something about the fresh air. And as we drove I felt the cool wind against my face, in my hair.

And I wanted to cry.

Because the people in Gaza don't get to just enjoy the fresh air. Because all they're breathing in is debris from destroyed buildings and white phosphorus, and the smell of the dead.

I looked out my window and saw my old school as we passed. And I felt guilty, because I dropped out. But their are children in Palestine who are crying and begging to go back to school and they can't.

The children in Gaza can't go back to school because Israel has destroyed and bombed them.

And I think about the displaced people taking refuge in those very schools while Israel attacked them. I think about how unfair and cruel that is.

And then I see the trees. My favourite trees, Gum trees that are native to my land. And I think about how the native trees in Gaza are being destroyed and bulldozed, very important trees that mean a lot to the Palestinian people. And those trees are being taken away by Israel.

Then there are houses, homes and people going about their day. I watch them from my car window and I want to cry still. Because the people in Gaza have no homes, they don't get to go about their day.

I think about the displaced people in Gaza, who are lucky to have a tent to sleep in. Because Israel has bombed their homes, rained white phosphorus above their homes, bulldozed over their homes, forced the Palestinian people to flee from their homes.

I'm barely holding in my tears, because I'm in the car on the way to my own home and the people in Gaza don't get to do that.

We pass the shops, and my throat starts to close up because there's people buying ice cream and groceries for their families. And the people in Gaza are being starved by Israel.

The people in Gaza don't get to have ice cream, they can't do their grocery shopping. They don't even have enough food for their own children because Israel refuses to let any aid trucks in, because they control all the borders and entries into Gaza.

We pass by a chemist in particular and I think about all the children in Gaza not being able to receive medical care. Because the hospitals are being attacked by Israel. Because no medical aid can get in. Because they have doctors being killed.

And then we pass by the park. The park is empty. And I think about the empty parks in Gaza. Because there are no children to play on the swings, no children to run and laugh. Because the children are crying instead. The children have no legs to play because they've been bombed. They can't laugh because white phosphorus has burned through their faces. They can't do anything because they are frozen in fear.

Theses children who should be filling up empty parks are holding their baby siblings, trying to keep them alive because their parents, aunt's and uncles, have all been slaughtered by the IDF. These children who should be laughing are screaming out for help because members of the IDF are raping them.

These children who should be having fun at the park are prisoners of Israel for throwing rocks at tanks like the boy David who threw a rock at the giant Goliath to save his people. And these children are being tortured in these prisons because they were hopeful and brave.

These children who should be with their families at the park are dying. Are dead. A lying beneath the ruble. Are cold and limp with no air in their lungs. These children are in pieces scattered across the blood drenched ground.

They should have been at the park today.

I can hear a man talking on the radio, and he's talking about unimportant nonsense things and I feel angry. I feel frustrated. Because why is no one else talking about this!? Why is no one talking about what's happening to these people!??

We pass by the fresh water creak right before my house and I want to scream! Because I know there's no fresh water in Gaza. I know there are Palestinians dying of dehydration and yet there is fresh, drinkable water running right there! But the water in Palestine has been polluted by blood and disease, and the seawater Israel has flooded their water supply with.

And when I get to my bed I finally scream and cry and punch my mattress to get all my emotions out.

Now I'm numb and writing this so that someone will see it, hoping that someone will understand, hoping that someone will fight even harder for the people of Palestine.

I'm hoping that they can enjoy their beaches again. I hope that's sometime soon.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Battery rationality

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/06/shoenabombers/#paging-dick-cheney

After 9/11, we were told that "no cost was too high" when it came to fighting terrorism, and indeed, the US did blow trillions on forever wars and regime change projects and black sites and kidnappings and dronings and gulags that were supposed to end terrorism.

Back in the imperial core, we all got to play the home edition of the "no price is too high" War on Terror game. New, extremely invasive airport security measures were instituted. A "no-fly" list as thick as a phone book, assembled in secret, without any due process or right of appeal, was produced and distributed to airlines, and suddenly, random babies and sitting US Senators couldn't get on airplanes anymore, because they were simultaneously too dangerous to fly and also not guilty enough to charge with any crime:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/20/damn-the-shrub/#no-nofly

We lost our multitools, our knitting needles, our medical equipment, all in the name of keeping another boxcutter rebellion from rushing the cockpit. As security expert Bruce Schneier repeatedly pointed out back then, the presence of (for example) glass bottles on the drinks trolley meant that would-be terrorists could trivially avail themselves of an improvised edged weapon that was every bit as deadly as 9/11's box cutters.

According to Schneier, there were exactly two meaningful security measures taken in those days: reinforcing cockpit doors, and teaching basic self-defense to flight crews. Everything else was "security theater," a term coined to describe the entire business, from TSA confiscations to warehouses full of useless "chemical sniffer" booths that were supposed to smell out bombs on our person:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2010/01/airport-scanner-scam/

Security theater isn't just about deploying measures that don't work – it's also about defending yourself against risks that don't exist. You know how this goes: in 2001, Richard Reid – AKA "The Shoenabomber" – tried to blow up a plane with explosives he'd hidden in his shoes. It didn't work, because it's a stupid idea – and then we all took off our shoes for a quarter-century:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Reid

In 2006, a gang of amateur chemists hatched a plan to synthesize explosives in an airplane toilet sink, scheming to smuggle in different reagents and precursors in their carry-on luggage, then making a bomb in the sky and taking down the plane and all its passengers. The "Hair Gel Bombers" were caught before the could try their scheme, but even if they had made it onto the plane, they would have failed. Their liquid explosive recipe started with mixing up a "piranha bath" – a mixture of sulfuric acid and hydrogen peroxide – that needs to be kept extremely cold for a long time, or it will turn into instantly lethal gas. If the liquid bomb plot had gone ahead, the near-certain outcome would have been the eventual discovery of an asphyxiated terrorist in the bathroom, lips blue and lungs burned away, face down in a shallow sink filled with melting ice-cubes:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2006_transatlantic_aircraft_plot

The fact that these guys failed utterly didn't have any impact on the dramaturges who ran the world's security theater. We're still having our liquids taken away at airport checkpoints.

Why did we have to defend ourselves against imaginary attacks that had been proven not to work? Because "no price was too high to pay" in the War on Terror. As Schneier pointed out, this was obvious nonsense: there is a 100% effective, foolproof way to prevent all attacks on civilian aircraft. All we need to do is institute a 100% ban on air travel. We didn't do that, because "no price is too high to pay" was always bullshit. Some prices are obviously too high to pay.

Which is why we still get to keep our underwear on, even after Umar Farouk "Underwear Bomber" Abdulmutallab's failed 2009 attempt to blow up an airplane with a bomb he'd hidden in his Y-fronts:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Umar_Farouk_Abdulmutallab

It's why we aren't all getting a digital rectal exam every time we fly, despite the fact that hiding a bomb up your ass actually works, as proven by Abdullah "Asshole Bomber" al-Asiri, who blew his torso off with a rectally inserted bomb in 2009 in a bid to kill a Saudi official:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abdullah_al-Asiri

Apparently, giving every flier a date with Doctor Jellyfinger is too high a price to pay for aviation safety, too.

Now, theatrical productions can have very long runs (The Mousetrap ran in London for 70 years!), but eventually the curtain rings down on every stage. It's possible we're present for the closing performance of security theater.

On September 17, the Israeli military assassinated 12 people in Lebanon and wounded 2,800 more by blowing up their pagers and two-way radios whose batteries had been gimmicked with pouches of PETN, a powerful explosive. This is a devastating attack, because we carry a ton of battery-equipped gadgets around with us, and most of them are networked and filled with programmable electronics, so they can be detonated based on a variety of circumstances – physical location, a specific time, or a remote signal.

What's more, PETN-gimmicked batteries are super easy to make and effectively impossible to detect. In a breakdown published a few days after the attack, legendary hardware hacker Andrew "bunnie" Huang described the hellmouth that had just been opened:

https://www.bunniestudios.com/blog/2024/turning-everyday-gadgets-into-bombs-is-a-bad-idea/

The battery in your phone, your laptop, your tablet, and your power-bank is a "lithium pouch battery." These are manufactured all over the world, and you don't need a large or sophisticated factory to make one. It would be effectively impossible to control the manufacture of these batteries. You can make batteries in "R&D quantities" for about $50,000. Alibaba will sell you a full, turnkey "pouch cell assembly line" for about $10,000. More reputable vendors want as little as $15,000.

A pouch cell is composed of layers of "cathode and anode foils between a polymer separator that is folded many times." After a machine does all this folding, the battery is laminated into a pouch made of aluminum foil, which is then cleaned up, labeled, and flushed into the global supply chain.

To make a battery bomb, you mix PETN "with binders to create a screen-printed sheet" that's folded and inserted into the battery, in such a way as to produce a shaped charge that "concentrat[es] the shock wave in an area, effectively turning the case around the device into a small fragmentation grenade."

Doing so will reduce the capacity of the battery by about 10% or less, which is within the normal variations we see in batteries. If you're worried about getting caught by someone who's measuring battery capacity, you can add an extra explosive sheet to the battery's interior, increasing the thickness of a 10-sheet battery by 10%, which is within the tolerance for normal swelling.

Once the explosive is laminated inside its (carefully cleaned) aluminum pouch, there's no way to detect the chemical signature of the PETN. The pouch seals that all in. The PETN and other components of the battery are too similar to one another to be detected with X-ray fluorescence, and the multi-layer construction of a battery also foils attempts to peer inside it with Spatially Offset Raman Spectroscopy.

According to bunnie, there are no ways to detect a battery bomb through visual inspection, surface analysis or X-rays. You can't spot it by measuring capacity or impedance with electromechanical impedance spectroscopy. You could spot it with a high-end CT scan – a half-million dollar machine that takes about 30 minutes for each scan. You might be able to spot it with ultrasound.

Lithium batteries have "protection circuit modules" – a small circuit board with a chip that helps with the orderly functioning of the battery. To use one of these to detonate a PETN-equipped battery, you'd only have to make a small, board-level rewiring, which could deliver a charge via a "third wire" – the NTC temperature sensor that's standard in batteries.

Bunnie gets into a lot more detail in his post. It's frankly terrifying, because it's hard to read this without concluding that, indeed, any battery in any gadget could actually be a powerful, undetectable bomb. What's more, supply chain security sucks and bunnie runs down several ways you could get these batteries into your target's gadget. These range from the nefarious to the brute simple: "buy a bunch of items from Amazon, swap out the batteries, restore the packaging and seals, and return the goods to the warehouse."

Bunnie's point is that, having shown the world that battery bombs are possible, the Israelis have opened the hellmouth. They were the first ones to do this, but they won't be the last. We need to figure out something before "the front line of every conflict [is brought] into your pocket, purse or home."

All of that is scary af, sure, but note what hasn't happened in the wake of an extremely successful, nearly impossible to defeat explosives attack that used small electronics of the same genus as the pocket rectangles virtually every air traveler boards a plane with. We've had no new security protocols instituted since September 17, likely because no one can think of anything that would work.

Now, in the heady days when the security theater was selling out every performance and we were all standing in two-hour lines to take our shoes off, none of this would have mattered. The TSA's motto of "when in trouble, or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout" would have come to the fore. We'd be forced to insert our phones into some grifter's nonfunctional billion-dollar PETN dowsing-box, or TSA agents would be ordering us to turn on our phones and successfully play eleven rounds of Snake, or we'd be forced to lick our phones to prove that they weren't covered in poison.

But today, we're keeping calm and carrying on. The fact that something awful exists is, well, awful, but if we don't know what to do about it, there's no sense in just doing something, irrespective of whether that will help. We could order everyone to leave their phones at home when they fly, but then no one would fly anymore, and obviously, no one seriously thinks "no price is too high" for safety. Some prices are just too high.

I started thinking about all this last week, when I was in New Delhi to give a keynote for the annual meeting of the International Cooperative Alliance, which was jointly held with the UN as the inauguration of the UN International Year of Coops, with an address from UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres:

https://2025.coop/

When I arrived in New Delhi, my hosts were somewhat flustered because Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi had just announced that he would give the opening keynote, which meant a lot of rescheduling and shuffling – but also a lot of security. I was told that the only things I could bring to the conference center the next day were my badge, my passport and my hotel room key. I couldn't bring a laptop, a phone or a spare battery. I couldn't even bring a pen ("they're worried about stabbings").

Modi – a lavishly corrupt authoritarian genocidier – has a lot of reasons to worry about his security. He has actual enemies who sometimes blow stuff up, and if one of them took him out, he wouldn't be the first Indian PM to die by assassination.

But the speakers and delegates gathered in the hotel lobby the next morning, we were told that we could bring phones, after all. Because of course we could. You can't fly people from all over the world to India and then ask them to forego the device they use as translator, map, note-taker, personal diary, and credit card. Some prices are just too high.

They took a lot of security measures. Everyone went through a metal detector, naturally. Then, we were sealed in the plenary room for more than an hour while the building was sealed off. Armed men were stationed all around the room, and the balcony outside the room was ringed with snipers:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54165263130/

We were prohibited from leaving our seats from the time Modi entered the room until he left it again, despite the fact that the PM was never more than a few steps from the single most terrifying bodyguard I'd ever seen:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54164805776/

And yet: the fact that we were less than two months out from an extremely successful, highly public demonstration of the weaponization of small batteries in personal electronics did not mean that we all had to leave our phones at the hotel.

After that, I'm tempted to think that, just possibly, security theater's curtain has rung down and its long SRO run has come to an end. It's a small bright spot in a dark time, but I'll take it.

[stealingyourbones]

(Click for better quality or view the read more to see a text version of the tropes)

Take your best shot at DPxDC Non-Trope Bingo! This is a writing challenge, not an ask meme. The goal for this isn't to be critical of common DPxDC tropes, but to do a fun writing challenge that flexes your creative writing! Diagonal, Horizontal, Vertical, and Blackout bingos are allowed. Write a fic without the tropes for your selected bingo! How to submit your fic: - Tag @stealingyourbones with your fic and bingo - Reply to this post with your bingo - Add your fic to the NTDPxDCWB ao3 Collection

Row 1 Column 1: Danyal/Demon Twins/Secret Twins/Is a Wayne Row 1 Column 2: DP Character Works at: (Pizza Shop, Wayne Enterprises, Arkham, Book Shop, Batburger, Coffee Shop, Watchtower) Row 1 Column 3: Adoption/Unofficial Adoption/Adoption Bait Jokes/Mistaken for Wayne/Parent Batkid Row 1 Column 4: Shipping (as main focus/ within fandom shipping) Row 1 Column 5: Ghost King/OP/Eldritch Danny/ GZ Ambassador Danny

Row 2 Column 1: Summoning/Constantine Sold his Soul/Not Pariah Dark but it’s Danny bait and switch/Batfamily used as Sacrifice Row 2 Column 2: Liminal/Ecto-contamination/Lazarus Pits as Ectoplasm Row 2 Column 3: De-Aged/ Physically Different Danny/ Animal Transformation Row 2 Column 4: Anti-Ecto Act Ignorance by Any Heroes/Secret GIW/Amity Park is Unknown bc Firewalls/Ghost Magic/Etc Row 2 Column 5: Reveal Gone Wrong/ Fleeing Amity/ Bad Fenton Parents

Row 3 Column 1: OP Amity Parkers/Amity Similar Levels of Crazy to Gotham/Danny Not Shocked by Gotham Row 3 Column 2: Mistaken for Clone/Clone/Clark Hates Clones Row 3 Column 3: Batfamily/Gotham Row 3 Column 4: Homelessness Row 3 Column 5: DP Character Works as: (Ice Sculptor, Medium, Engineer, Chemist, Burglar, Rogue, Vigilante)

Row 4 Column 1: Good Dad Bruce/WFA Dynamic Batfamily Row 4 Column 2: JL/Any DC character even remotely being shocked by Danny/his situation/ghost zone Row 4 Column 3: Danny starstruck by Aliens in JL/ Space Core centric fic/ Space Ancient Danny Row 4 Column 4: Dani as Danny’s Daughter/ Danny as Jazz’s Son/ Fentons as Dan’s Kids Row 4 Column 5: DP Character Goes to: (Gotham Academy, Gotham University, Coffee Shop, Library, Gala)

Row 5 Column 1: Shipping (cross fandoms specifically) Row 5 Column 2: DP Character Is: (Retired Vigilante, Knowledgeable About Ghosts, Related to DC Character, Roommates with DC Character) Row 5 Column 3: DP Character Kills Joker or Rogue\ Fear Gas doesn’t Work as Intended Row 5 Column 4: Lady Gotham/Eldritch Gotham City Row 5 Column 5: Related to Wonder Woman via Pandora/Trained by Pandora or Clockwork

[dramatiique]

"You can't just say it as if you're certain. There are tests that should be done." And out the Sonic Screwdriver came, held in front of him as if it was as strong as a sword. Oh, but that was so very wrong — it was stronger. As it talked to him in its buzzes and zaps, the Doctor checked the color, the readings— ah-ha, okay, she was a human! And that conclusion might make him look silly if he cared about that kind of thing, but he most definitely did not.

"All right, you pass. You're going to the chemist's to get medicine? What's wrong with your mum? Actually, what's wrong with this town as a whole? I know it has a name that seems like a bad omen but it can't be all that terrible, can it? Where is everyone?" And if she didn't know, then he'd just have to follow her back to her house and speak to her mum. He would ask anyone he could lay his eyes on until he got some sort of lead.

Another scream interrupted them and the Doctor nearly slammed his palm into his head. He'd been so wrapped up with this lady that he'd completely forgotten to rush into the chemist's and check what the hell all that screaming was about.

"You should stay here or you might end up screaming too." Did that make sense? Or did it sound like a threat from him? He didn't have time to correct that awkwardly stated comment before he dashed the remaining distance to the shop and barrelled his way through in the exact same manner he'd knocked into his new acquaintance.

Vevina had been bumped into a handful of times, but never so roughly as to be knocked back onto the ground! And then he was shouting at her, too! He didn't sound or look like a uniformed officer, though!

"What?" Dazed, she looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Human? I -- Of course I'm human!" She didn't look like an animal, did she? Or did he mean something...not human? No, that couldn't be. Was he a content creator trying to pull an ill-timed prank? Or not in his right mind?

Sitting up, she brushed her bangs out of her face and looked up at the man not-quite-shouting at her. She didn't know his face, which was odd because Panswick was so close-knit.

"I'm just trying to get to the chemist's," she started, hoping that would be reason enough for him to relax or leave her be. "My Mum needs her medicine."

[piratefalls]

another long list, except it's a day early because this is how i give thanks.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five.

No Sense or Sensibility by inexplicablymine

“When and where was your first kiss.” Oh shit. The thing is… Alex actually has an answer to this one, it’s just a matter of admitting that it happened. ____________________ Kennedy’s. 7pm, Pub Quiz and Ice Cream. Every Monday ‘til death due us part. Alex liked his little routine, until Derryl got it in his head to host The goddamn Newlywed Game instead.

I'm Rememberin' I Promised (to Forget you Now) by Angelwithwingsoffire

It's been six years since Alex Claremont-Diaz graduated law school. And he's made a good life for himself, working with a firm he enjoys and making a difference in the world. Until a part of his past he'd thought he'd gotten over seven years ago walked back into his office asking for his help. To get a divorce. Which Alex has never done before. But he's never been able to say no, and he's willing to put his heart back under the bus for the chance at one more smile.

Rogue's Gallery by OrchidScript

Loathe as Alex was to admit it, Henry Fox was going to be a legend someday. He already was in the bureau depending on who was answering. Tied to art theft, jewel theft, one or two little sweet confidence schemes, and an alleged counterfeit Super Bowl ring, but caught on three counts of art forgery, the blond Brit had run circles around the Art Crimes division for six years. He was quick, smarter than the average bear, and more detail-oriented than a nuclear chemist. He had a penchant for nice suits, silk ties, and gin tonics with lime. He wrote letters to agents in taunting poetry, tucking them under windshield wipers or posting them to the office directly. Once, he managed to drop one directly into the pocket of a plainclothes officer without them seeing his face. _____________________ Henry Fox is a famous art forger, and Alex is the FBI agent who caught him three years ago. When one of Henry's aliases comes up attached to a new case, can the two put aside their cat-and-mouse past to put the copycat away?

Queer little ducks hold a special place in my heart. by anarchyat4am

Henry’s at a local Hispanic Heritage Month event browsing the art stalls when his gaze catches on a kid looking around with both purpose and nervousness. She’s fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt with one hand while she bites the nails of the other one, eyes alert and searching. Lost, then. And oh, Henry recognises her. She’s a regular at his bookstore, even at only six years old, and is there at least weekly with her dad—Alex, who she’d introduced to Henry as her papi—or various aunties and uncles, most of whom Henry doesn’t think are actually related to her. Keeping one eye on her, he lets his gaze sweep the vicinity but doesn’t see anyone else he even remotely recognises. Shit. He has to do something. “Sirena?” he calls gently. * Henry... is more than a bit useless around hot guys. So when he finds the lost kid of the gorgeous dad who frequents his bookstore, he pulls himself together until they reunite, only to then be devastated by the revelation that the man thinks Henry hates him. And, well... courage always rises, and all that.

just say you won't let go by viciouslyqueer

After dancing around each other for months, Alex and Henry finally get together. The morning after comes with a slight misunderstanding and comforting words.

We were supposed to find this by kiwiana

Still, half an hour after shaking Prince Henry’s hand for the first time, he finds himself back in his hotel room with one shoe and sock hurriedly tugged off and his right foot resting on his left knee. Just to check. Just in case Alex is somehow, by some miracle, about to become the first documented case of Surprise! You Can Totally Have A Different Soulmate, We Fucked Up And Your One Kind Of Sucks. No such luck. The words are the same as they’ve always been, etched into his skin in a careful, calligraphic font. The kind of handwriting someone might have if, for example, they came from the sort of family that valued tradition and etiquette far higher than letting their children write like normal human beings.

Sit. Down. Please Stay. by politics_and_prose

Alex adopts a dog he found abandoned on the side of the road. She's nervous and he wants to make sure he knows how to give her the best life possible. Enter Henry Fox and his beagle David.

muscle memory by stutteringpeach

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

The Perils of Midsomer Residency by clottedcreamfudge

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that care should be taken, given the Mountchristens' local influence?" Liam nods. "Sir." Luna then turns to Alex. "Do not piss anyone in that family off." Alex throws his hands in the air. "So many aspersions have been cast on my good character this morning that I could start a fucking farm. An aspersions farm." Luna narrows his eyes. "Correction," he says, "have another coffee and then do not piss anyone in that family off. Don't make me regret fast-tracking you through the ICI Development Programme." * After getting shot in the line of duty back in Texas, June forces Alex into a change of scenery. Because how much can really be going on in the quaint little English county of Midsomer?

something that feels like forever by dearestalez

“You’re crying,” she pointed out. Alex choked on a laugh, wiping his eyes. “I’m just-” he sniffed, holding her so delicately Henry felt herself melt into the touch. “I’m so happy for you, baby.” — alex and henry are so in love it makes me want to rip out my heart and stomp on it but slash pos

behind brick walls by weather_stained

After Henry and Alex move in together, it takes quite a while for them to fully adjust to their newfound freedom. Alex very much enjoys watching Henry grow more comfortable in his own skin after a lifetime of looking over his shoulder.

It's a (Birth)date by Celaestis

5 times Henry is oblivious that they're dating and 1 time he isn't.

Save a Horse, Ride a Princess by affectionatelyrs

“I have to say, this is all quite literal, don’t you think?” Alex wouldn’t know literal right now if it hit him in the head. “Huh?” Henry points at Alex: “Pillow Princess,” and then to himself: “Cowboy. Ready to ride and all that.” Alex nods dumbly. “Right.” - Or, Alex and Henry dress up as the ultimate couples costume for Halloween — themselves — and they both feel some kind of way about it

baby boy by smc_27

It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.

My Songs Know Secrets You're Sick of Keeping by ma_lark_ey, paythe_piper

"How about this," Alex offered, "If I win AOTY, I announce Henry and I in my acceptance speech. If I don't, we do it your way." OR: Alex is a world famous pop punk star, Henry is still the Prince of England, and the public is onto them.

Au Naturel by cmere

The French doors leading to the office are thrown open, so he has a moment to take in the scene in front of him: Alex, lying on his stomach on the floor, feet kicked up and crossed at the ankle, surrounded by books, papers, and two open laptops. None of that, however, catches Henry's attention as much as Alex's hair, secured in a small, messy knot on top of his head with nothing but a single wooden chopstick. Henry blinks rapidly several times. "Alex," Henry says, somehow hoarse. Alex's head whirls around. There's a single, perfectly curled tendril over the apple of his cheek; his scruff has hit the mystical, magical point where it's more soft beard than prickly shadow; his reading glasses sit atop his adorable nose; and Henry realizes with sudden gravity that he's not entirely in control of his physical responses anymore—something has to give. Alex hasn't really been bothering with some of his usual upkeep, and Henry is kind of extremely into it.

You deserve my love by whateveridk

“I’ll leave as soon as you tell me to." Henry had turned towards him, stealing himself, sticking his chin out, and said “leave.” Alex has been picking up the pieces ever since. Two years later, living with Nora and June in NYC, it still haunts him, but it's fine. Whatever, he is fine. And then... Breaking News: Prince Henry comes out as gay So it's not fine, Alex is not fine.

sex ed in 6 steps by coffeecatsme

“Please tell me you used a condom, Fox,” Alex drawls out, leaning against the wall, and Henry chokes on his next breath.“Excuse me?”“You’re gonna tell me all about this tomorrow, but for the love of God, tell me you used a condom and we won’t have mini Henrys on campus anytime soon.” Or, 5 times Alex thinks Henry's straight and 1 time he finds out the truth. Or, 5 times Alex jokes about Henry's sex life and 1 time he gets to be a part of it.

More Than A Makeover by everwitch

The Fab Five—Alex, June, Nora, Liam and Spencer—descend on a New York based shelter for disenfranchised queer youth to give the place a much needed makeover. As the week progresses, sparks start to fly between Alex, the culinary representative of the queertastic quintet, and Henry, the sweetly charming founder of the shelter. It’s a deeply emotional week full of unexpected realizations, and certainly a week that strengthens Henry’s friendship with Pez in ways that neither of them quite knew they needed. As the week comes to a close and the Queer Eye team say their goodbyes, it remains to be seen what will become of the warm connection between Alex and Henry. Will it last, or was it too much of a perfect miracle to ever grow into something real?

The Royal Wedding by DracoWillHearAboutThis

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE HENRY OF WALES AND MR ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZ ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED HM Queen Mary is delighted to announce the engagement of Prince Henry to Mr. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. The wedding will take place in the Spring or Summer of 2025, in London. Further details about the wedding date will be announced in due course.  Prince Henry and Mr. Claremont-Diaz became engaged earlier this week during a private holiday in Paris. Prince Henry has informed The Queen and other close members of his family. Prince Henry has sought and received the blessings of Mr. Claremont-Diaz's parents.  The couple will live in Nottingham Cottage at Kensington Palace. 

A Toast to the Night by allmylovesatonce

Henry looks up from his drink and swears his jaw drops. Standing in front of him is one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen. From his dark brown curls to the way his deep eyes gleam as he stands there, an awkward smile on his face. Henry is nearly sure this man is going to ask for his seat. He probably has some woman with him, scouring for a place to sit. “Uh, hi,” the man says. “Hi.” “Look, this is really awkward,” he says and Henry feels the confirmation in his gut — also maybe disappointment. “My ex-boyfriend just walked in and I really don’t want to talk to him. I was wondering if I could sit here with you so that he won’t talk to me.”

That's What You Get For Waking Up in Vegas by bleedingballroomfloor

The bartender slides Alex the whiskey and shot of water before turning her attention to the person behind him. He turns around at the same time as the person speaks, “Gin and tonic” in all rounded vowels, a distinct English accent shining through, and he swears his heart stops. “Holy shit,” Alex says before he can stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. “Henry?” When Alex is celebrating June and Nora's bachelorette party in Vegas, the last person he expects to see is his ex-boyfriend Henry, who moved back to London nearly a year ago. Waking up next to him the following morning, naked and sated with a marriage certificate poking out of his pocket, he starts to wonder if he's truly over Henry.

hang on 'til the chaos is through by ShyAudacity

David is lounging on his spot at the foot of the bed when Alex comes in. He opts not to turn on the light, not wanting to disturb Henry, but then quickly finds that the light is on in their bathroom. Henry must still be getting cleaned up before bed; Alex can say hello and check on Henry when he steps out. It’s weird that he’s still up. Henry was awake well before Alex was this morning and… come to think of it, Alex can’t remember him ever coming to bed last night. Alex has only made it through the top three buttons on his dress shirt when he hears a terrifying crash come from the bathroom. Clutching his chest, he steps towards their shared bathroom, afraid to see what’s on the other side. “Henry? …H, what was-.” Alex stops short in the doorway, startled to find the love of his life in a miserable heap on the bathroom floor.

Sad Again (Don't Tell My Boyfriend) by lucy_in_the_sky

After proposing to Alex, Henry writes a letter to his father reflecting on all the moments he’ll never get to share with him. AKA Alex comforts a mourning Henry and promises to be there for him, forever and always.

monster mash by matherine

None of Henry’s answers to “Who are you supposed to be?” are particularly funny to anyone but him, especially in his inebriated state, so he’s completely given up on making any sense when the latest person asks him, someone who he assumes is yet another sorority girl in a skimpy costume from the glimpse of a cheerleading skirt he gets while they brush past him to open the fridge. “George Villiers,” he offers. “Deep cut, England,” a decidedly male voice snorts, and Henry can’t help the way his head snaps up, eyes wide.

Take it Down Low / Make Me Get High by Mags (sparklepocalypse)

“Henry,” Alex rasps wonderingly, sounding almost entranced, “I want to eat your ass.” Henry’s train of thought screeches to a halt with such force that for a moment, he thinks he might’ve had a stroke.

how did a middle-class divorcé do it? by Time_Sequence

Not really concerned, Alex watched the typing bubble appear – disappear – appear again, like Henry couldn’t quite find the words to say what it was he was thinking. Most likely, he was trying to find the perfect sarcastic quip in response. What came through made him genuinely pause. HRH Prince Dickhead💩: You complete and utter moron Then, HRH Prince Dickhead💩: Royalty can’t marry divorcees If Alex had been having a good time before, he definitely wasn’t now. - When a joking interview reveals that Alex and Nora drunkenly married ten years ago, suddenly Alex's upcoming wedding to Prince Henry is jeopardised.

discreet packaging by demigodbeautiies

“Please, please, please explain to me,” Zahra says, finally, sounding more than a little bit long-suffering. “Why I had to have the head of the Secret Service sit me down and tell me to give you a talk about avoiding bomb scares with unidentifiable packaging.”

the world watched (and the world smiled) by fangirl6202

"Oh,” Alex says finally, faintly, touching one hand to his lips. Then: “Shit.”  His mind catches up then, realizing that Henry is walking away and he doesn't even think twice. He begins to quite literally chase after him, trying to get to him before he can get away or, God forbid, try to fly back to England and ghost him.   Henry is very pointedly not looking at him, stuttering apology over apology until Alex has to quite literally throw himself in front of him to get him to stop. Alex doesn’t know what to do. But the answer is simple, isn’t it? So fucking simple.   He takes Prince Fucking Charming’s lapels into his hand and kisses him back.  Or; it's New Years, and Henry stays.

Rabbit Hole by TuppingLiberty

Some sort of non-famous au, don't worry, there's not really a plot. Alex has been going down a research rabbit hole for hours and Henry comes to rescue him.

Let Loose Your Glow by athousandrooms

“Seems like my liege was caught in a situation where he’d rather the ground swallow him whole.” Pez nods towards a spot to the side, and Alex follows his gaze. He spots Henry easily – a tall lighthouse of tousled blond hair – talking to a girl who is clearly into him. His expression looks perfectly polite, but he’s subtly leaning away, and he looks tense. So, Alex makes an impulsive decision. Whatever happens, this is going to be fun. *** Or: Alex is so very definitely straight, so pretending to be Henry’s boyfriend to get him out of an awkward situation should just be a fun little pastime - except that he doesn't really want to stop, and he has no idea why. But maybe it's okay to not think too hard and let himself go with the flow, for once.

Things I Cannot Accept by SprigsofViolets

In 2016, Ellen Claremont lost the presidential election. In 2019, Alex Claremont-Diaz is not the first son of the United States, so he’s shocked when his path crosses with Prince Henry for the first time in almost four years.

How well you play...that's up to you by happinessofthepursuit

Treacherous (adjective) guilty of or involving betrayal or deception; (of ground, water, conditions, etc.) hazardous because of presenting hidden or unpredictable dangers. Or, how to describe surgical residency in a single word. A Grey's Anatomy inspired AU.

In Accord by absoluteaudacity

Pursuant to the establishment of an ongoing relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States, the representatives of the The Queen and Her interests are authorised to establish a contract of marriage between His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

A Heart Even More Your Own by chaa_kiao

“Guess you’ll be writing those poems after all.” He swallows. "I should go." Henry’s mind— every part of him, really— his heart, his body, his fucking soul— is screaming at him to take it all back. To hell with the monarchy, the American presidency, damn it all. This is the man he’s spent his entire life loving and he’s throwing it away for a legacy he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He forces out a rough “I think so,” but he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. “I love you.” “Alex—” “I know,” Alex says. “I just had to say it.” _______ Or: Alex and Henry getting back together takes a little bit longer this time.

you are my mountain (you are my sea) by alasse

Five times Alex and Henry have important conversations in houses, and one time they have a very important conversation in a castle.

Down For the Count by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates)

Alex came to Las Vegas to count cards, not feelings. Henry came to win it all. Is it possible to find something real in Sin City, where nearly everything isn’t as it seems? OR Goodbye reality, hello Vegas (the blackjack/poker AU).

Let Them Eat Cake by rohruh

“I wanna eat you out,” Alex’s voice comes out raspy and intrepid through the phone pressed against Henry’s ear. Henry lets out a soft whine at the admission, his breath up-ticking in synchrony with his hips as he thrusts up into his hand. “I’d like that,” he tells Alex eagerly, cradling the phone in his palm as though he could materialize Alex right there in front of him if he presses it against his ear firmly enough. “I’ve never done it to a guy before,” Alex confesses. “Is it… different from eating out a girl? I bet you’d taste so good, baby. Fuck.”

A Thousand Words by Thunder_Cakes

After that Han/Leia mural both their accounts go silent for a while. For months, actually. They’re both in therapy after Alex tried to post a selfie with June after election night and had a panic attack before he could hit “Share.” Suddenly the thought of sharing the details of his life and loved ones with the world is paralyzing. Wonder why. or: Alex, Henry and what they choose to share of their life

All for a Taste of the Honey by chamel

“So you’re telling me you’re not in favor of this plan,” Henry says eventually. “No, I’m fucking not,” Alex huffs, glaring at him. “It’s stupid and dangerous and unnecessary.” Henry cocks one perfect eyebrow at him. “You have another idea for how to get access to the room where he does his deals? The one that only ever admits Vega, his associates, and the strippers who entertain them?” (Or, an FBI agent!Stripper!Henry fic. Henry goes undercover at a strip club, and Alex has a lot of feelings about that.)

in the mood for... by carzla

Henry knows that he’s the one who said “casual”, and it had been a reminder to himself that that was all it could ever be between him and Alex. So, telling Alex that they should “make love” is probably a mistake in syntax bigger than he could safely afford. But they’re in Paris and Henry is feeling terribly, terribly maudlin.

something good and right and real by HypnosTheory

“This is pretty expensive for a high school trinket.” “Everything is bigger in Texas,” Alex jokes. Henry looks up at Alex, who’s standing with his shoulders relaxed for the first time since October. The relief of his mother’s victory has made him loose-limbed and calm, his smile easy and lovely. Henry looks down at the crown in his hands and back at Alex. He imagines the gold half-buried in Alex’s hair, heavy on the man’s brow, decadent and royal. Henry swallows, face heating, and holds the crown out to Alex. “Put it on.” -- After the election, Henry explores Alex’s childhood room. He finds trinkets of a young Alex that intrigue him, including a crown that gives him some ideas.

In His Wildest Dreams by myheartalive

Once Alex has pulled out, Henry turns over to face him. He strokes the hair softly away from his face and Alex smiles at him. “So… that happened again.” Henry leans forward and kisses him on the forehead. “Indeed.” There’s a sort of thoughtful pause, where Henry can see Alex working to pull together the right words. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you that… thirsty?” “Oh, bugger off,” Henry says, but he’s laughing. It’s a fair description. “No, but I mean it. You were like… urgent. It was hot.” “It felt hot. I liked waking up like that. With you up against me, trying to have your way with me.” — Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process — Mind the tags, y'all. That particular tag features prominently and it’s a major plot point, so if that’s not your jam, just hit the back button.

until next time!

[sweaty-toothed-mad-woman]

✨ INTRO POST ✨

I’m Kat 👋

(((ik some people put the stuff that’s important in like a specific color but this is kinda just a jumble of random stuff so nothing is really important ngl)))

this blog is pretty much entirely Dead Poets Society, but I sometimes integrate my current obsessions into my posts, so be aware of that

my yapping blog: @barbaric-yap

my writing blog: @gather-ye-fucking-rosebuds (I only have one thing tho lol)

MY FAV THINGS (kinda random ass things tbh)

My fav color is ice blue

My fav movie is DPS and FBDO

My fav artist is Taylor Swift

My fav song is Shake It Off

My fav school subject is science

My fav number is 9, 21, or 47

My fav show is Psych

My fav book is Kotlc or Harry Potter

My fav actor is Matt Damon

My fav yt channel is Kallmekris

My fav snack is Doritos

SOME THINGS ABOUT ME

#undiagnosedautismandadhdandanxiety

Aroace and proud of it

my pronouns are she/her

Sports I do: soccer, basketball, flag football, cross country, tap, jazz, and ballet

Instruments I play: cello, piano, and (kinda) guitar

Clothes I wear: sporty/ athletic or just comfy

i have three irl friends but I get along w everyone so idk if it’s REALLY three friends

I probably need therapy but I don’t feel like it and also my parents don’t believe in therapy so there’s that

Have I mentioned how much I love Ferris buellers day off??? Bc honestly I might like it more than dps (don’t sue me)

I sleep with a stuffed animal dog named Bennett

When I grow up I wanna be a chemist at nasa

idk what else to put sooo

my bestiesssss

@ultr8-v1olence

@snek-of-eden

@prettypinkbubbless

@soobiesworld

@sophiejanefostersilver

@anderscuns

@the-undead-poets-society

@dreadedwhim

@yawping-poets-society

@filmbro-girlblogger

@thiamblogger

(lemme know if you wanna be added I need more friends lol)

spam my ask box pleeeeeeeeeease I’m bored 90% of my free time

carpe diem, bitches. go seize the day and sound your barbaric yawps while gathering ye rosebuds and sucking out all the marrow of life.

[hellsite-proteins]

what are your favourite and least favourite amino acids? my fav is alanine and my least fav is proline. and any opinions on nitrogenous bases? i have so much beef with uracil

this will be a long ranking based almost exclusively on vibes(tm):

alanine is a respectable choice, but i do feel like some of the hydrophobic ones get to be repetitive and less interesting. isoleucine and leucine are so similar, and valine isn't far off either. methionine is still cool because of the sulfur and also since its the start codon. tryptophan can stay but its on thin ice (you know what you did W). phenylalanine is easily the best hydrophobic one in my opinion, but maybe that's just the chemist in me and general appreciation for aromatic systems?

as for the charged ones, lysine and histidine are both top tier. arginine is also pretty neat, but it loses some points because i always mix up the one letter codes for arg (R) and asn (N). glutamate and aspartate are very neat in reference to metabolic pathways and general appearance, and to me they don't lose points for looking so similar. glutamate does get an extra point tho because of MSG.

the polar amino acids with hydroxyl groups suffer the same problem as the branched hydrophobic ones in that i think they could be trying harder to be more original. still, with my sulfur bias i think cysteine is really cool, especially in the context of disulfide bonds. tyrosine is also good because of the aromaticity. for some reason i don't like asparagine but glutamine is very good and respectable. (probably because of how important glutamine is for nitrogen metabolism?)

finally, for the weird ones. glycine bothers me and every drawing of it looks weirdly empty, so i do not vibe with it (even tho i do concede that it can be structurally interesting in a protein). my opinions on proline change constantly, but they're generally fairly strong in either direction.

overall, i'd probably say the top ones are lysine, cysteine, and usually proline? there is definitely a hierarchy but choosing a favourite is hard.

as for nitrogenous bases i don't have as many opinions but cytosine is my personal favourite (no i can't explain why)

i'd love to hear other people's thoughts in the notes!

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

whatareyrfavriteandleastfavriteaminacidsmyfavisalanineandmyleastfavisprlineandanypininsnnitrgensasesihavesmcheefwithracil

protein guy analysis:

this almost looks like something, with a couple helices and a larger beta sheet making up most of the structure. i do wish that the lower two strands were longer so we could get more hydrogen bonding to stabilize this sheet, since i don't feel super confident in the overall stability of this protein. part of my hesitancy comes from all the pretty disordered looking loops, and part of it is from the less than fantastic pLDDT score. still, its not a bad one to look at and i guess that's really the main criteria here

predicted protein structure:

cartoon coloured by pLDDT

[cogitxtio]

You can have it, if you like. There's a startling amount trying to make its way into the ventilation system.

Was anyone going to tell me that Thorns took over the Engineering department's east hallway for an experiment today, or was I just supposed to find out by getting a faceful of sand?

[irisintheafterglow]

assassin!sakusa au: the dagger games, part 01 of 03. (original drabble here!)

"did you talk to him?"

"of course not." kuroo gives you a pointed look and waits for you to reveal your lie. you wait and stare at each other, the only light in the room the moonlight streaming through the window. "well?"

"fine."

"i knew it," he sneers and you chuck a pillow at him, which he punches away easily and positions at the foot of your bed. you can tell he's trying his hardest not to panic, focusing his attention on the dark city outside. "even after all these years, you still can't muster up a good lie."

"yeah, yeah. i get it," you interject before he can continue his rant on how earnestly truthful you are. "i'm an idiot."

"yes, you are. you get comfortable and suddenly you're breaking every rule i told you when you first joined the crows."

"you act as if i'm having a threesome with the twins from the foxden." you chuckle when a visible shudder travels through kuroo's body at the sheer thought of you even interacting with one of the foxes.

"i wouldn't put it past you, if you're suddenly all buddy-buddy with a weasel."

"can we talk about what was in the vial from said weasel now? please?"

"that's why i'm here," he replies cryptically and you roll your eyes. if there was one thing the cats were known for, it was melodrama.

"i know that's why you're here; i called you here in the first place." he scowls, like you'd interrupted his monologue.

"and i'm sorry to disappoint, but we don't know." kuroo crosses his arms and his eyebrows pinch together in unease. "i'm serious," he clarifies when you give him a dumbfounded look.

"what do you mean, you don't know? you're the best chemist in the city!" he tosses you the tiny glass vial and you catch it in one hand, inspecting the shimmering emerald powder inside. it dances around the space like fine sand, submerged in some kind of dense liquid that bubbles near the corked top.

"when we tried to open it, it was like the energy in it disappeared. i barely got the cork off before kenma told me it'd turned pitch black. usually, sudden color changes like that are bad news."

"so what i'm hearing is: you're too scared to open it," you state and your best friend's frown deepens. "c'mon, i've never known you to fear anything."

"i fear tomorrow," he says frankly. "first dagger games of the decade and every crew is headed by young guys, us included. and now there's this mystery substance that a weasel gave you. everyone's active, and it's dangerous."

"why's that a bad thing?"

"young leaders are hotheads--"

"you included," you joke and he scoffs, but he doesn't argue. "sorry, go on."

"and, hotheads get their crews hurt. they tell 'em to do stupid things, like bombard territory or steal marks."

"castles have been doing that ever since oikawa joined as fresh meat."

"that's exactly my point," kuroo emphasizes. "we need to be ready for anyone to play dirty." your mind jumps back to a few days earlier, when oikawa and two of his guys stole a bounty from you while you were training kageyama and yamaguchi. if it hadn't been for that lost bounty, you probably wouldn't need to play in the dagger games in the first place. at least the cats and the crows had a mutual alliance, and that alliance extended to the owls so long as their ice-tipped leader didn't get trigger-happy.

"are you and the cats gonna turn on the crows?"

"over my dead body," he vows darkly. if there was one thing kuroo valued more than foolproof defense, it was loyalty. "will yours?"

"you know daichi. he's a righteous one."

"right. well, let's just hope everyone else has a similar change of heart overnight."

part 02.

[harrie-fic-center]

harry styles [2]

ice cold by watchmegetobsessed

in another life by heyyyharry

in the ring by hrina

indigo by jarofstyles

interview by svnflowervol666

introducing harry by kind-heart

invisible string by secretly-a-cold-blooded-killer

is this real life? by tpwkxxangel

italian singer by sweatergirlposts

it's your birthday? by gucciwins

just harry by meetevieinthehallway

killer queen by outofstyles

kings of leon by unabashedgirl

late nights by harryforvogue

listen by mosh-4

logan and the diamonds by chemiste

loss by bfharry

love is a moment by iahazzze

love island universe by finelinevogue

love me please? by havethetimeofyourstyles

masterlist by harry-writings

masterlist by harrysfinelinevol1

masterlist by lovecanyon

masterlist by bfharry

masterlist by astravna

meant to be by crowdedimagines

mlb!harry by erodasfishtacos

mother's day by svnflower666

my love, my life by parkersroses

my muse by chaoticloving *

never coming back down by for-fucks-sake-h

new year by svnflowervol666

not so dirty little secret by thatsrealoriginalkaren

of the jealous kind by kiss-inthekitchen

oh, what a world by honeypotstyles

only angel by herondaleholly31

pamper night by harryforvogue

pretty boy by bebebwheezy

proposal by sunflowervolvimp3

quarantine beings at home by all-things-fic

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part forty

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral/fluff

el's thoughts: it's been sooooo long since i've written and i'm afraid that i'm a little rusty haha, but here you go!!

masterlist

As the schooner sped south, it was as if the whole crew was sitting vigil. Everyone spoke in hushed tones, treading quietly over the decks, hyper-aware of Y/N lying in bed in Kaz’s room.

The Ferolind felt like a ghost ship. Kaz was sequestered with Y/N, and he’d asked for Wylan’s help caring for her. Even if Wylan didn’t love chemistry, he knew more about tinctures and compounds than anyone. So the chemist and Nina spent every waking minute trying to nurse their resident Inferni back to health.

Anyone who entered the room Y/N was staying in could instantly feel how stressed Kaz was. They would have to be blind not to have noticed the toll her illness took on him. The deep dark circles that rested under his eyes seemed worse than they’d ever been before. His sleeping habits were nonexistent before, yet he never let it show. But now he looked weak. Physically ill. Within the few days he’s been waiting for Y/N to wake up he appeared to have aged a few years. It was nothing a proper night’s sleep, shower, and meal couldn’t fix, but it disturbed the other Crows to see him in such a state.

Nina and Inej finally got him to bathe himself, the Heartrender claiming that Y/N would never wake up if he stayed by her side smelling like a Barrel rat. So when Kaz stepped out of the pathetic excuse for a washroom, he nearly collapsed to his knees at the sight of Y/N sitting up in bed.

He was frozen in shock, he was barely able to choke out a few words. “You’re awake.”

Y/N jumped slightly and groaned at the jolt it gave her body.

“Sorry,” Kaz walked to her bedside while rubbing the thin fraying towel in his hand through his hair.

“It’s fine,” she coughed in reply. Her hand blindly feeling for a cup on the table next to her. Kaz reached for the pitcher and poured the cold water into the glass before handing it to her. Y/N smiled at him gratefully and chugged the water down before placing the cup back. “Thank you.”

“How…” Kaz cleared his throat before murmuring quickly. “How’re you feeling?”

Y/N pushed herself higher up on her pillows, “More alive than I could’ve claimed earlier.”

She’s alive.

That’s all that mattered to Kaz in that very moment. The reward that waited for him completely left his mind for just a spilt second as he mentally relaxed over the comforting fact that she was still with him.

She’s alive.

~

Y/N had always known there was a good chance they wouldn’t make this journey home at all, that they’d end up in cells in the Ice Court or skewered on pikes. But she’d figured that if they managed the impossible task of rescuing Yul-Bayur and getting back to the Ferolind, the trip back to Ketterdam would be a party. They’d drink whatever Spect might have squirreled away on the ship, eat the last of Nina’s toffees, recount their close calls and every small victory. But she never could have foreseen the way they’d been cornered in the harbor, and she certainly couldn’t have imagined the type of sacrifice she’d made in order to get them out of it. But as she looked around the deck she knew that she would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

These people had grown to be her family much against her will. If some heaven-sent Saint came to her only two years ago and told her that she would become the closest friends with a convict, a sharpshooter, a runaway, a spy, one of her ex-soldiers, and a thief… She would have laughed in their face. But here she sat, wrapped in a warm blanket brought to her by the Suli spy, drinking a cup of tea made by the runway mercher’s kid. Her skin had grown pale and carried a constant cold sweat despite the cool ocean breeze flowing through her hair and over her skin. But she was well enough to finally leave the room and walk about the main deck for a short while.

When Kerch finally appeared on the horizon, Y/N felt a strange mixture of relief and trepidation. She knew that their lives were about to change, and she could only hope for the better while she prayed to any Saint above that Nikolai received her letter in time.

They dropped anchor, and when nightfall came, Jesper had asked Kaz if he could join him and Rotty in the longboat they were rowing to Fifth Harbor. Y/N knew they didn’t need him, but she could tell he was desperate for a distraction.

A few hours later she could see them down a canal, making their way back to the ship.

“Look at that,” Kaz said, holding the paper out for Y/N to read. Congratulations. Your country thanks you.

The words left a funny feeling to settle in her stomach as Jesper laughed. “As long as my country pays cash. Does the council know the scientist is dead?”

“I put it all in my note to Van Eck,” Kaz said. “I told him that Bol Yul-Bayur was dead but that his son is alive and was working on jurda parem for the Ferjdans.”

“Did he haggle?”

“Not in the note. He expressed his ‘deep concern,’ but didn’t mention anything about price. We did our job. We’ll see if he tries to bargain us down when we get to Vellgeluk.”

Jesper glanced at the Inferni quickly before turning his attention back to Kaz. “Will Wylan come with us to meet with Van Eck?”

“No,” Kaz said, fingers drumming on the crow’s head of his cane. “Matthias will be with us, and someone needs to stay behind with Y/N. Besides if we need to use Wylan to twist his father’s arm, it’s better that we don’t show our hand too early.”

Y/N glared at Kaz’s profile as he spoke. Jesper looked between the two and quickly made a lame excuse to leave.

“What do you mean I stay behind?”

“You’re in no condition to come with us, you’re still weak.”

Y/N scoffed but a coughing fit instantly followed. “I’m not weak, besides you’ll need the Ravkan representative present during the trade.”

Kaz stared at her for a moment, flicker of emotion flared behind his eyes before he turned away. Y/N reached her index finger to lock it with his.

“I know your concern, but my presence is needed and you can’t deny that. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“You can’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kaz said and looked back at her. “Since when are you known to be careful?”

The inferni chuckled and leaned closer to his side, barely leaning her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Kaz gave no reply as he stood stiffly beside her with no intention of leaving.

~*~

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