#18/35

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 18

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein walks around the shop making sure everything is perfect. He still had about half an hour before he was opening but he wanted everything to be just right. It took him hours to organize the records and the aesthetic was just right. He could see the line forming outside and he paced. He jumped when there was a knock at the door.

"We're not open yet!" He yelled but this time the knocks were more abrupt.

"HEY FUCK OFF! WE'RE NOT OPEN YET!" He yelled but suddenly the door was opening.

"What the-" It was Y/n.

"You should keep that locked if you don't want people to come inside." He settled back onto the stool behind the counter.

"I didn't think you would come." Oystein said in shock. She walked towards the counter and placed flowers on top of it.

"I hadn't planned on it. Your parents asked me to drop this off as a favor. Looks like they didn't get the name change memo." She spun the flowers around so he could see the little card attached to it.

"I'm happy you came by. I wanted to show you-" She shook her head at him.

"Oystein...I'm not here for this. If your parents weren't so sweet, I wouldn't even have bothered ever coming through that door. Please don't make this into something it's not." She pleaded and he nodded.

"D-did you get my letter?" He asked. She let out a sigh.

"Yes I got your letter. My neighbor also let me know some gothic man was lurking outside of my house so next time try the phone book." She informed him. He was slightly embarassed that he was caught but she wasn't spewing hatred at him or trying to slap box him so he'll take that as a win.

"Also I don't need to educate myself on Black Metal. Your definition of it doesn't make it end all, be all. Music has a freedom to be whatever it wants to be so if I want to listen to this..." She picked up an album and held it up.

"Then it doesn't have to mean death and destruction." Oystein tried not to smirk at her as she held the album. He cleared his throat and she looked at the front of it seeing it was a Mayhem record.

"Oh for fucks sake." She put the record down in frustration.

"You know what the fuck I mean. I have empathy, I don't need flaunt suicide memorabilia to feel connected to something. I just feel it." She explained as Oystein came around the counter and walked towards her.

"You're right. I underestimated your knowledge of the genre. I apologize." She seemed surprised at his demeanor.

"Well...I also appreciate you being a man of your word and pissing off when I asked you. I'm moving on with my life and clearly so are you." She hadn't been standing this close to Oystein since she hit him. He nodded his head at her and picked the album back up holding it out to her.

"I don't need that." She put her hand up.

"Please...I just want you to-" She cut him off.

"I have one." She muttered. She looked anywhere but at him.

"You do?" He smiled. Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

"Yeah I do. Look I've got to go to work, Hammed wanted me to give this to you to welcome you into the neighborhood. Don't abuse it just because you're you and you know I'm the one who has to deliver it." Y/n watched Oystein smile as he opened it to see a discount card.

"Don't feel special, he gives them to all the surrounding businesses." She crossed her arms over her chest and Oystein nodded.

"Let him know I appreciate it. Thank you for coming by and bringing me the flowers. I'm glad you came even though I know its the last place you want to be." He said seeing her finally look at him. She couldn't help but stare for just a moment before shaking her head.

"Your mustache looks fucking ridiculous." She wasn't going to leave without insulting him and he waited for her to leave before letting out a laugh. No matter how today went, he found hope that someday they would at least be able to be in the same place at the same time without her hating him.

[romantic-ageru-yo]

This is how 35 works right?

[destielwarmsthecocklesofmyheart]

happy vessel day to cas

and happy anniversary to the ship of all ships

16 years

[timblrdrake]

YOU'RE DATING A 6 YEAR OLD??????????

umm….. okay. well.

okay.

so he’s NOT 6 years old he’s just. he’s only been around for 6 years..

[goldenpinof]

favourite behind-the-scenes moments (WE'RE SO BACK, BABY)

[parcalaryokolus]

galiba kimseye anlatamadığım içimdeki o savaşı kaybediyorum.

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Me, making my Dragon Age OCs in my mid to late teens: Hehe, all but one of them are in their twenties or above... They're so mature...

Me, now, aged 23 with a far more developed brain: Why the fuck are these CHILDREN in charge of SAVING THE WORLD?

[nocternalrandomness]

Navy over Nevada

[loveanddeepsecrets]

The secret times audio of Sylus at lvl 35 and 55 are already so suggestive and spicy. If lvl 125 isn’t absolutely NASTY I’m rage quitting.

I really am his kitten 😭 he’s feeding me yet I still want more 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

(Please read the tags I’m not done yapping)

[romantic-ageru-yo]

Oops I made the silly thing sad

[skyward-floored]

Impa has had plenty of battle experience in her life.

Countless days spent training in both tactics and fighting itself, long hours plugged into doing nothing but honing the skills of her tribe and other abilities she’s been gifted with. Learning the most effective ways to use them all together, and win any fight.

But there’s really no way to prepare yourself for a battle in which both your past lover (who can’t exactly be called her husband since Impa hasn’t even spoken to him in almost two decades, and has also for some reason aligned himself with an army of monsters) and son (who is unaware of the identity of either of his parents, and shouldn’t be on the battlefield anyway since he’s not even of age) are both running around in on opposite sides, making it impossible to keep track of either of them.

Impa huffs as she dodges a spear, worry and exasperation clashing together within her.

She’s lost sight of Link for the third time already this battle, and only has a vague idea of where Volga ended up. Link has demonstrated he can handle himself, but he’s still only a trainee, and Impa’s seen (even from a distance) what sort of trouble he can get into.

And Volga...

The questions that have been swirling around in her head ever since the battle start to come to life again, but Impa ignores them, focusing not on the hurt and confusion and instead on her current goal.

“Where did the boy go, Link?” she asks the captain stationed at the keep she’s helping defend, slashing past a bokoblin and narrowly saving a soldier’s head.

The captain frowns, holding his shield up to block a stray arrow. “I lost sight of him, all I know is he took out a whole squad of bokos and ran off,” he says, forehead creased.

“I saw him heading to the abandoned fort ma’am,” a soldier calls towards her. “Someone said that dragon-man is back there, I think he went to go fight him off.”

A cold feeling steals into Impa’s chest.

“Idiot boy is going to get himself killed,” the captain at her side mutters, slicing viciously at a monster. “Trainees shouldn’t be out here at all, no less fighting dragons. Boy barely looks old enough to shave.”

Impa more than agrees, but doesn’t waste her time with words, leaving the keep in the captain’s capable hands, and taking off to go find Link.

...and Volga.

She follows the soldier’s words, heading to the fort he’d pointed out. Sure enough, as she gets closer, she sees streams of fire burst into the air, hears the clash of weapons and familiar shouts.

Her heart skips a beat, and she runs past bokoblins and moblins alike, pausing only momentarily to fight her way past a few.

None of the monsters that get in her way are terribly tough, but they take time to fight, and Impa is getting anxious, casting continued glances at the smoke and fire nearby. She’s seen firsthand today how good of a fighter Link is, but she’s also well aware of Volga’s strength.

And Link... will need help.

The last bokoblin falls and Impa runs for the fort, arriving just in time to see Volga slam a clawed fist into Link. He cries out as he’s thrown across the cobblestones, landing in a motionless heap, and Impa bolts, blood roaring in her ears.

She slides to a stop in front of Link when Volga tries to advance, putting herself between them and blocking his path. The dragon knight stares at her, shadowed eyes narrowed, and Impa glares back, unmoving in her defense of Link.

She sees no sign of the man she fell in love with in his eyes.

“How noble,” Volga sneers, embers falling from his mouth. “Enjoy your shared grave.”

The fire around him begins to intensify, and Impa’s eyes widen, knowing immediately what it means.

“Oh no...” she breathes, and turns back to Link in a panic, getting to a knee and touching his shoulder. He shifts at her touch, but just a little, his eyes flickering when she shakes him. Volga growls, and Impa whirls back towards him, knowing she doesn’t have enough time to pull Link out of here.

The air around Volga wavers with heat as flames lick up his form, and then he moves forward, blasting a huge plume of fire directly at them both, hotter than death mountain itself.

And right before the flames hit, Link stumbles in front of Impa, a hand outstretched like he hopes to hold back the flames with nothing but his arm.

Impa barely has enough time to be horrified (he’s only a boy, he shouldn’t be protecting her, she can’t watch her son die—) before the flames engulf them both.

...

But instead of burning alive in her former-lover’s flames, Impa instead feels a gentle warmth.

It’s equally soothing and powerful, and she opens her eyes, not even realizing she’d closed them. The sight that meets her makes her startle, and she stares up at Link in utter shock.

Golden light is pouring around Link— around her son, in a wide, protective glow, encircling and keeping them both safe. All of him holds a shine, but his left hand is glowing especially bright, triangles outlined on the back in a beautiful luminescent gold. A sign of which Impa would know anywhere and had already begun to suspect, but almost doesn’t want to believe, to face what it truly means for them all.

Link is the Hero.

Volga’s flames finally peter off, and the light fades, but Link still holds his hand up, fingers shaking a little. Volga studies him, giving Link a calculating look as his eyes dart across his face, and Impa finds herself holding her breath.

Will he notice the similarities, will he pick up on the features he and Link share, will he put the pieces together—

But Volga appears not to recognize anything amiss about Link, or even herself, and he barely spares her a glance as he growls something about not being beaten, and departs the battlefield.

Link shakily falls to a knee almost the moment he’s gone, and Impa resists the urge to grab him by the shoulders and make sure he’s okay, instead joining his side not too quickly.

“H-how...” he croaks, staring at his hand in equal awe and terror. “What was...”

“The triforce of courage,” Impa supplies, and he looks at her, his face covered in grime and sweat, and layered with a healthy amount of shock.

She takes a deep breath as what the meaning of this truly signifies begins to sink into her chest, fear and pride and several other emotions all vying for her attention. But she ignores them all, especially the sharp ache at the realization her son has a long fight ahead of him.

A monster howls somewhere nearby, accompanied by a soldier’s yell, and Impa closes her eyes, then reopens them, packing the emotions away with practiced ease.

“...I’m afraid we don’t have time for me to explain everything to you right now,” she apologizes, offering Link a hand up. “But I promise I will. At the moment, we have a battle to win.”

Link swallows, looking like he wants to say more. But then he straightens his shoulders and nods, letting her pull him to his feet. Impa can feel his hand still faintly shaking, and she can’t resist giving it the lightest of squeezes before she lets go, quickly returning her attention to the battle still raging outside the fort.

They can figure all of this out later. She can figure all of this out later.

Right now, they have a battle to win.

[nfasth]

Yeah, extreme busyness came and got its hands on me again. Here's a thing to fuck with your brain a bit to show I'm not dead.

[artinvain]

historical photo of the African dyke creative in the wild (at her local gallery and museum)

[cennet-ul-meva]

İnsanların çoğu dışarıdan bakınca soğuk ve suratsız olduğumu söylüyor. Yoo ne alakası var sadece nerede nasıl davranması gerektiğini bilen, saygılı ve seviyeli bir insan olmak daha çok hoşuma gidiyor. Soğuk değilim, gereksiz samimiyetlere girmek yerine zamanla oturan insan ilişkilerini tercih ediyorum.

[atopvisenyashill]

what WOULD you consider like the ~actual romances~ of asoiaf?

there’s nedcat and samgilly as the obvious ones. i feel like braime should count but i’m aware that jaime’s everything and the age gap gives some people the ick (anyone whose problem is “brienne is too good for jaime” is unserious however that’s not a real criticism get real).

i think rhaena and elissa are this other category, like doran and mellario, of like, george trying to depict a loving couple that divorced. the point isn’t “this is toxic from the jump” the point is “this couple could not stand up to the stresses of life despite having real love and solid foundation.” yes i do think he’s projecting his first marriage a Lot onto some of these divorced couples, but i think there’s an interesting romantic point here where he is explicitly acknowledging that there was real love here that existed at some point, but sometimes you just marry the wrong person. i’m trying to think of a bigger couple he does this with but all the bigger ones imo are less “when love dies and divorce happens” and more “this shit was WHACK from the moment they met.”

i think oberyn/ellaria is a really interesting & well written couple tho i wouldn’t call them a ~romance love story~ necessarily. obviously i feel similarly about sylvenna & essie, in that i think he was actually trying to write a more romantic dynamic between them but they don’t get enough focus to count as a “love story”

[wolfietheangel]

getting better with age . . .