#so it's good thing it takes me longer. that means I'm considering and digesting what I'm reading

[girlscience]

I just finished my first non-fiction book in probably years. It was 277 pages long. I can read a fiction book that short in about 2 and a half hours. This took me 3 months to complete. I do wish I was faster with non-fiction, I've got a huge list of science and political and historical books I want to read, but I have to remember these books require more brain power so it's not bad they take longer. The learning is important not the time.

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?” 

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?” 

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

[iaure]

Sincerely not trying to be annoying, but do you still have plans to write your requests one day?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ the short answer: yes and no. The longer answer:

The elden ring asks; yes! Those are headcanons and much easier to digest. i am answering the godwyn ask today, as well as working on the tanith/rykard ask. elden ring, in general, is easier for me to digest, though it's generally much slower work, as there's more lore for me to take into account. one thing i often strive for is complete accuracy, though i do not doubt i've been wrong before. they take a very long time, due to being paired against my work and other life events, but i find them much easier to do.

the cheater!miguel ask; most likely not. though the concept was good, and i would've enjoyed writing it before, full length works are MUCH harder for me to focus on these days. unless it's something i wanted to work on initially (i.e. the daryl dixon mention), it's harder to pump out something that's roughly 5k words unless the idea came to me before. this also goes with one of my rules, that hyperspecific asks would be considered. i never posted the ask, but it's about two paragraphs long! very specific, and given the situation i'm currently in, while i wanted to attempt it before, i don't see it happening.

the tall!s/o leon ask; again, this was a wonderful idea! i'm a tall lamb myself, and always appreciate the representation. but there wasn't much else added onto it aside from 'leon with a tall s/o', so i'm unsure if they were hoping for headcanons, a full length work, mere thoughts...which means it falls into the same category as the miguel ask. again, it falls under another rule i had: 'have a base idea for what you want made', and looking back i feel i could've written it more specifically, but this means more than simply character + single notion. this also means - do you want headcanons? a full work? that sort of thing!

to be very transparent on my situation: i am a store manager for an ailing company store due to malldeath, so i'm under quite a bit of pressure. i do not get off days generally, as more often than not i get called in for one reason or another. paired with health issues i won't divulge and the fact that my ram and i are in a long distance relationship with a time difference, this leaves me with very little energy at all times. my schedule oft looks like this, on a day to day basis; wake up, go to work, get off of work, get home, cook and clean for my family, speak with my ram once he gets off of work, go to bed, repeat. i do not mean to blow off asks and requests-but i did put within my bio that i'm prone to disappearing for a reason. i think some might take it as a more artsy or figurative thing, but i meant it in the most blunt way possible!

this also means that my own writing capabilities are tied directly with inspiration, as opposed to energy. i know quite prolific writers who post every day, splendid things, simply because they have the energy! but i do not have that. if i am compelled to write, it is because something has kickstarted it; usually, starting a new series, as exemplified my ram has asked me to watch the Walking Dead with him. i operate often on a snowball effect; i write one thing, then another, then another, before hitting a block and waiting for the next thing to come along to kickstart it.

allow me to be clear; i am certainly not upset by this ask, nor is it annoying! it's a very genuine question, as it's been nigh a year since most of these asks have been sent. as far as my flock sees, there is no work being done, no proof of such. i suppose it's akin to an absent mother bringing back men after my children get attached to the one prior. it is far from the best situation, but i am attempting to be as transparent as possible about my work and processes.

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

11/4/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Part 2

Matthew 22 and Mark 12

Commentary:

I'm finding one of the issues of reading the Bible through in chronological orders, we sometimes read longer stretches of passages. And when you're reading the words of Jesus, you kind of just wish there was one paragraph in the words of Jesus to digest a day because there are so many things to take in. And if we're not careful, we can easily glaze over them because there's another one that feels a little bit more important. So on a day like today, where we are reading similar but different narratives of the same stories, it is good that we are hearing the same passages back-to-back today. So first of all, we keep talking about the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Let's talk about who they are. Both Pharisees and Sadducees were part of of class of Israel. They come highly educated. They are important in politics and cultural experiences of the temple. And the Jewish world. So these are educated men, involved in politics and matters to do with the Temple and Jewish culture and law. So what differentiates the Sadducees from the Pharisees? The Sadducees would be like a higher classification. They were more wealthy. Well, we know that sometimes more wealth accumulates more power. The Sadducees were also more concerned with politics than they were with spiritual matters because they're considered more of a higher classification economically and socioeconomically. They did not relate well to the common people. So in contrast the Pharisees were more I even I hate these terms, they feel so polarizing to me, but I, I'm going to say it so we can have some sort of understanding the Pharisees were more of a blue collar or middle class businessman classification. They are fiercely loyal and obedient to the law.

OK, so that groundwork is laid. Let's look at some of the stories today, specifically the Great Commandment. Either Matthew chapter 22, verse 34 or we could take a look at Mark chapter 12, verse 28. Let's let's look at Matthew. But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law? And he said to him, you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And the second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets. There's really no commentary that I could follow that up with that would say anything more than the words of Jesus today. I've been having discussions with some friends over the course of a few weeks and we've been asking questions like what is the essence of our faith. What does it come down to? We all have different interpretations. I mean, that's the beauty of being created so differently and so uniquely is that we hear things differently, that speak to our hearts and strike our souls in different ways. And we all have different answers. And that's OK. But what if it came down to faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love. What if love truly is the greatest force in the entire world? What if love truly can heal us from the inside out. What if the greatest command of Jesus and the second greatest command of Jesus could really be the thing that sets the world ablaze? If we could love the Lord our God, with all of our heart, all of our soul, and with all of our mind. And if we could really, truly work at loving our neighbor as ourself, which first requires us to love ourselves. What if it were just that easy? If you stop and think about it, you start realizing just how quickly we get set off by people. People we know, people we don't know. We realize how not easy it is to love our neighbor as ourselves. The problem though is that most of us may not even know our neighbor's first name. Some of us just know them as the neighbor that gets mad if you walk on their grass. Some of us just really irritated that they park in the street and not utilize their driveway. Some of us are mad that they keep their garbage cans in the front and don't take them around to the back. Do we get the point yet? I've heard it said. Don't hit me with that hippie dippy love crap. I fear that loving people can be misinterpreted as weakness. There is nothing weak about Jesus telling wealthy men that are trying to trip him up continuously, that the greatest commandment is for us to love God and to love others as we love ourselves. If we think about those things, that touches everybody. If we cannot first look in the mirror and love who we see. I'm not talking about liking. I'm saying I love you for who you are. Knowing that there is work to do, knowing that we have messed up, knowing that we're going to mess up again, but still loving the person we see, knowing that God created us in the image of himself, and some of us talk so harsh to us, I would just ask you, who else would it be acceptable to talk to the way that we speak to ourselves? There's no need to answer that because my hand is straight up in the air. We have some work to do and the truth is we are filled with excuses, we are filled with our justifications of why we can't, what they did to us that prevents us from loving. What I'm telling you, it is not the judgment, the condemnation or the shame that caused my heart to turn time after time after time. It was the love that I was given that I did not deserve.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when he sees a ring on your finger

This work, 当你手上多了一枚戒指, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ]

It’s a common occurrence for you and Kiki to drift into jewellery shops when the visiting the mall together. Most of the time, it’s mostly to buy items like necklaces or ear studs - things that don’t hold much significance. 

This time, however, your attention is captured by a ring.

It’s a silver ring, the brilliant 99.9% pure silver has a blooming rose at the top. It isn’t big, but it’s exquisite. At the heart of the rose rests a tiny gem.

You slip the ring onto the middle finger of your left hand, fitting you like its as custom made. Kiki comments at the side, “Since it fits so well, just buy it, Boss. It can also announce how you’re being courted by him.”

What Kiki says makes sense. This ring happens to suit your tastes as well, so you take out your wallet and purchase it.

In the evening, Victor picks you up for dinner as usual, and takes your left hand into his out of habit. When he feels something different, he worries that you’re injured, so he flips your hand over to check. The silver ring enters his view. 

“This is?”

Only now do you remember that there’s a ring on your finger. You show it off. “Does it look good?”

He doesn’t answer your question, but scrunches his brows as he looks at the silvery light on your finger. “Who gave it to you?”

“I bought it for myself, of course. I saw it while shopping this afternoon. Wearing it also tells others that I’m in a relationship, so it saves me some trouble.”

After hearing your explanation, his expression returns to its usual calm. “...it looks nice.”

Victor’s lips turn up slightly. “Keep it on. I’ll replace it with another ring next time.”

[ GAVIN ]

Everybody thinks you should get together with Gavin - even you. 

Minor has revealed more than once that Gavin’s interested in you, but you just haven’t seen him making any moves. Heeding Anna’s advice, you wear a ring on your forefinger as a hint that you’re ready to get into a relationship.

You initially thought everything would go according to plan: When Gavin brings you out to eat, you’d deliberately show him the ring and place it on the table in plain sight.

As you wished, Gavin quickly notices the ring. His pupils constrict, and he clenches his right hand into a fist underneath the table. His lips are pulled into a thin line, as though he’s holding back something. 

Sensing that the development is going awry, it suddenly occurs to you that this honest, simple man could have thought all rings convey the same meaning.

Ah, this is a problem.

“Your ring...” Gavin asks quietly, a troubled expression on his face.

It’s happening, it’s happening - this wolf cub is finally on the attack!

You twist the ring on your finger. “I bought it. I’m ready for a relationship, so I’m wearing this to attract attention.”

After hearing this, Gavin visibly relaxes. But once he hears that you’re going to attract attention, he tenses up again, cutting you off.

“There’s no need to do that. What I'm saying is - could you consider me first?” 

[ LUCIEN ]

It’s been said that wearing a ring can prevent unwanted attention. Without hesitation, you pick a ring you fancy, wearing it on the fourth finger of your left hand.

Returning home, you see that Lucien is cooking in the kitchen. You plan to sneak up behind him with a back hug, but the moment you touch him, he greets you.

“Welcome home.”

You hug him fiercely. “Tch, I even thought I could frighten you.”

Lucien sets down the ladle and turns around, planting a kiss on your cheek. “I’m familiar with my little butterfly’s footsteps. Wanting to frighten me is a difficult feat.”

A glint of silver flashes into Lucien’s eyes as you reach out to cup the sides of his face. “All right, I’ll try a different method next time.”

He takes your hand, kissing the ring gently. In a tender voice, he says, “Wash your hands. We can have dinner soon.” 

You comply obediently, washing your hands and preparing bowls and cutlery. Once you’re done, you wait at the dinner table for Lucien to bring the final dish over.

-

After dinner, the two of you go for a stroll to aid with digestion. Suddenly, he pauses in his steps, and you turn to him questioningly.

He gets down on one knee, a felt box in his hand. In it sits a diamond ring.

“Lucien...” you breathe.

“I originally wanted to propose to you in a proper manner. But I think my little butterfly can no longer wait, and has worn an engagement ring on her own.”

Dumbstruck, you peer at the ring on your finger. “Doesn’t this just mean I’m in a relationship?”

Lucien laughs. “So my silly girl wore it on the wrong finger. But that’s fine. This time, I’m helping you put it on, so you won’t wear it wrongly again.”

[ KIRO ]

Ever since Kiro saw the ring on your finger, he’s been casting you meaningful and expectant glances. 

“Miss Chips, your ring looks really good!” He exclaims exaggeratedly.

Giving him a polite smile, you respond, “Thanks, I think so too.”

Kiro tilts his head. Has there been a decline in his tacit understanding with you? Why can’t you understanding what he’s hinting at?

He launches his second round of attack. “Miss Chips, where did you buy the ring from?”

“I got it from a shop of course. I even specially picked this. I like it a lot~” You emphasise on the word “specially”, gauging his expression.

“Miss Chips, do you really understand the meaning of his ring?” 

Does she really not care about me? Kiro wonders.

“I do.” You lift your hand up. “The staff told me what it meant when he introduced the ring to me.”

Kiro looks deflated. “Since you know that this is the couple edition from Bvlgari, do you not have one for me? Miss Chips, do you not love me anymore QAQ”

The small sun is wilting, so you give up and pat his shoulder. “All right, all right. You’re the one who hasn’t seen it. I even placed it in such an obvious place.”

Kiro glances at you, eyes lighting up. “Where is it?”

“The dark corner of the third drawer in your computer room.”

“...Miss Chips, are you sure that’s an obvious place? Why do I feel like you’re toying with me...”

[ SHAW ]

From what you remember, Shaw has worn all sorts of beads, bracelets, gloves etc...

The one thing he hasn’t worn is a ring. 

For this reason, you decide that he doesn’t like wearing rings. It doesn’t surprise you, since even married men don’t wear their rings nowadays.

A brand you frequent just released a set of couple rings which suit your tastes. Since the rings can be sold separately, you buy the female band for yourself.

“Your ring...” Shaw quickly notices the new ring on your finger.

“It looks good, right? I bought it right after it was released. I love this design so much!” You flaunt the ring in front of him.

“This is a couple set, isn’t it?” Shaw grips your hand to take a closer look at it.

Your eyes widen. “You know about it!?”

He turns away. “I saw the magazine you left lying on the table.” He raises his volume for emphasis. “It was just a coincidence!”

You release your hand from his grasp, then cast him a glance. “Tch, what are you doing?”

He stretches out his palm. “Since it’s a couple edition, where’s mine?”

Your eyebrows twitch upwards. “You wear rings?”

“Who says I don’t?” 

He grabs your bag from the sofa, pushing you out of the door. “Bring me to the shop immediately. Right now!”

–

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Tumblr Writer Q&A

Thanks for the tag @leslie-lyman 😘

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)? 3, I think. 2 BtR oneshots (one that will likely never see the light of day) and the next chapter of HTKAI.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? 2 series (HTKAI, and the jazz lounge AU), 5ish unfinished one-shots in varying degrees of complete-ness.

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? I like both! I like that requests often take me somewhere new. Like, someone asked me to continue Judo!Dave where I never planned to, and the result was something that I really liked. Same with the period and pregnancy sex asks for Marcus. Never planned on writing them, really glad I did.

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? I actually don't have any. Which is fine. I don't want to be overwhelmed. But I am open to them! :)

5) How many fandoms do you write for? Just Pedro stuff (and most of that is Marcus Pike lmao).

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? I've never written a single thing before I made the decision to start writing Born to Run in September of 2020. (But I've been reading fic since 2007 or so.)

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? I'm open to writing just about anything! Everything I've written so far is either a reader insert or a named OC, depending on the flow of the story. I'm open to writing "real" ships from the show, just nothing has popped in my head for that just yet.

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? Is my obsession with Marcus Pike niche?

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? Are you kidding me? Not a day goes by where I don’t read fic. <-just leaving Leslie's answer because girl SAME

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? Romance or angst with a happy ending.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? I mean I'll read almost ANYTHING tbh. Even if it's not always my jam, I'll read it. I'm not a huge fan of a/b/o but I WILL read it because hey, why not? So as far as reading, anything goes. To write? I like meet-cutes, I like hurt/comfort, I like a bit of angst. I'm always including some sort of D/s dynamic, is that a trope? I dunno. I'm still kind of "learning" to write.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? Reading or watching the source material. Reading other people’s fic or seeing other people’s fanart. People reblogging/commenting on/being supportive of my writing! <-once again, Leslie's answer is exactly mine. Someone leaves a comment I DIE. And then I rush to go write some more. ;)

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? I like reading threesomes/foursomes but I'm honestly intimidated by it because that's a lot of people to keep track of as you write? I read a/b/o occasionally but I'll probably never write one of my own. I also read a fair share of darker fics (dark Dave helloooooo!) but I'm a big softie and probably wouldn't do a good job of writing my own. :)

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested? I'm open to writing for anyone, although I'll say I'm a bit intimidated to write for anyone I haven't written for yet. Which is most of the Pedro boys. I'll get there!

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction? About 6 months. HAHAHA.

16) Did you read fan fiction before you started writing? I started reading Harry Potter fanfiction in early college. That was.... almost 15 years ago. So yes.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? I cross-post just about everything on AO3.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of “Drabble”, “One shots” and “fics”? I feel like a drabble is 1k or less. 1k is a LONG drabble. Lol. One-shot is anything with one chapter, regardless of whether that chapter is 1k or 20k. It's not about the length to me as much as it is about being one digestible story with a conclusion. Fic is... a general term for fanfiction? For multichapter fics, I'd call that a 'series.'

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? I cannot be brief to save my life, so HCs and drabbles are not my strength. I've done quite a few one-shots but I keep coming up with multi-chapter story ideas.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why? I'm not ENTIRELY sure if my jazz lounge AU, "The Bad Oboe," will ever see the light of day. I just am not all that passionate about it anymore, I wasn't entirely sure where it was going, and it's been sitting in my drafts for so long that I'm not sure I can pick up that momentum any more. Also it was from the EARLY days of me writing and I feel like I've moved past it a bit.

21) What is one of your main “pet-peeves” as a writer on Tumblr? Anonymous hate, for sure. Why on earth....?

22) Do you write a particular time of day? I'm the world's worst employee and I write when I'm supposed to be working.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc to write or do you need silence? I almost always write in silence.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? NO, LOL. It starts as a chaotic mess, and then I usually am forced to come up with some sort of outline after I've written several chapters and realize I have no idea what's happening next. Even then, it's BARELY outlined. HTKAI is BARELY planned out, especially the flashbacks. They just kind of happen as I write. Who's Marcus gonna meet in this time period? Er, I'll let you know when I know! BtR ended up being more outlined, because there was a specific timeline with like, training highlights that I was trying to hit and I was basing reader's running schedule after the marathon training plan that I use.

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? I sit on it and re-read it until the words lose all meaning and I hate it. LOL. Part of this is because I do not like posting multi-chapter fics unless the next chapter is already mostly written. I did this with BtR in a big way. I wrote like 6 chapters in one week and still staggered the updates so by the time I posted the epilogue, it had been sitting, completed, for a month or so. Likewise, with HTKAI, I didn't post chapter 4 until I was mostly done with chapter 5. I'll post chapter 5 when I have a bit more of chapter 6. I don't know why I'm like this.

I have no idea who's been tagged in this already but @mandocrasis@radiowallet @honestly-shite and whoever else sees this and wants to do it!

[robbyrobinson]

Separate Tides (Review)

Hooray for the pirate episode. After waiting months, the Owl House is officially back to start its second season. In it, we learn the aftermath of Luz destroying the door and stranding her in the Boiling Isles. Without the door, Eda can no longer sell human garbage thus forcing her to take up bounty hunting. Worse, Luz can no longer get into contact with her mother due to the door's destruction. Lilith goes to live at the Owl House obviously no branded a traitor and given disrespect. We also get to learn how bad conditions are in the Boiling Isles: really, there isn't much food there that Luz could digest (which makes me wonder where Gus got that PB & J sandwich from back in "I Was a Teenage Abomination" with the only edible food being griffin eggs, but those are expensive. Feeling guilty for putting Eda into that situation, Luz decides to take part on a ship and hunt for selkiedomuses. Unfortunately, the ship was actually one of many owned by the Emperor. Overall nice setup for how vastly different the second season is in comparison to the first. Luz is without a way home; Eda and Lilith are next to powerless and have to resort to using glyphs, which will set up Luz teaching them. Lilith had been disavowed and is now nothing short of a peasant. And Belos had already completed the portal door. Oh...oh no. As for new characters...we have the Owl Spy, or better known as the Golden Guard. I had initially expected the Golden Guard to have been some deathly serious threat without a hint of comedy to his name likely a British accented monotonous voice. Instead, when we are finally introduced to the Golden Guard...it turns out that he is nothing like my head canon had determined. Which is a good thing. I love this guy. The Golden Guard is introduced as some teen prodigy that is given special treatment by the Emperor himself. He is a 16-year-old who is refreshingly entertaining. While malicious, he is playful and conniving. When he kidnaps King, he trolls him by repeatedly lifting the blanket over the bird cage for his own amusement; he playfully holds Eda and Luz over the boiling seas while giddily explaining that the sea's steam is enough to cause third-degree burns and then eagerly says "Bye!" in a chipper tone. So you have someone who is unambiguously evil, but he is also in a near-constant easy-going mood. At the least he shows that he can be negotiated with handing King back when he thought that Luz killed the selkiedomus. He's almost like a male version of Eda showing what Eda would have been like had she joined the Emperor's Coven. As for his relationship with the Emperor, I have already seen several theories suggesting that he is the son of Belos: in the episode, it is revealed that Belos has long, graying blonde hair, and if you happen to notice the Golden Guard briefly removing his mask, he too is blonde. While it is reasonable, I'd take it a step further and speculate that the GG is a clone. While that may sound crazy at first, considering how Belos was able to finish constructing the door to the human world and his high-tech looking staff (and even how the GG performs magic in unconventional ways), it looks more and more likely. We all know that fifty years ago Emperor Belos arrived and ended the savage ages which led to the establishment of the coven systems and how witches could only perform one type of magic for the rest of their life. So it is no unreasonable to say that Belos is OLD. Very, very, unbelievably, inconceivably old. As I am pretty sure that Belos did not have a love child with anyone (because it is a Disney show after all, and I don't want that visual of the Emperor getting it on with anyone), the likelihood of having an heir succeed him in the events of his death would be near impossible. Remember when he tasked Lilith with retrieving that flower for him back in season 1? I'm personally thinking that once he realized that the flower was fake, he used his technological knowledge to create a clone of himself that way so he could somewhat "cheat death." With how much he talks about

the Day of Unity and its inevitability, Belos likely created the GG as a contingency plan in the events that he doesn't live to enact the Day of Unity. I mean why else would he show favoritism over this one subject if not for their close ties? Overall, a great way to start the second season. Can't wait for next week where we get to formally meet Momma Thiccalia.

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be || One For Every Billion

6. By My Side | Pt 4

"You've got to be kidding me."

Your group has already grabbed a table on the second floor balcony, overlooking the crowded paths below, at one of the nicer restaurants at the heart of the park's main food district and you've been checking updates on your phone after messaging Tobio and Hiro when Oikawa's unamused voice breaks through your thoughts.

You glance up to your left at him to see a look of disbelief on his face and when you follow his line of sight, you see the two stragglers everyone has been waiting on heading your way, weaving through the tables to reach you all.

"Tobio!" A smile breaks across your face at your cousin's grumpy visage. He seems a little closed off, studying the additions to your group with what you think is apprehension.

"Tobio?" Toru's head literally snaps towards you in question.

You turn to him as Tobio and Hiro come to a stop and pull out the two empty chairs at your table.

You hear Iwa murmur a low, "Oh shit." but you have to dismiss it because you're clearly missing something.

"Yeah," you watch Toru with a question in your own eyes, "My cousin, Kageyama Tobio. And Hiro, Hana's brother.."

Iwaizumi is actually facepalming while Maki and Mattsun are chuckling, but you can't see what's so funny so you continue with the introductions, "Tobio, this is-"

"We already know each other, Y/n. I went to school with Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san until they graduated this year."

Okay, small world. All you can really say while you digest this information is, "Oh."

But then, "Hiro doesn't know them... right?"

"No, not yet!" Hana's a lifesaver that steps in to make introductions with the rest of the guys while you chew it over. There's clearly history here, right?

Then, you kind of get an answer because Toru turns to speak with you while the others greet each other, "So let me get this straight. Ushiwaka and Tobio-chan are both your cousins?"

"Um. Yeah. Pretty much." You watch his eyes narrow on your response.

"Pretty much?"

"Yeah, Tobio's actually Shin's cousin but they're both more like brothers to me. I guess it's the same situation with Toshi but on my dad's side... we're not directly related either."

You can see the understanding light up his eyes for a moment, "You choose them, huh? As family?"

"Exactly."

"Interesting taste. So family but not."

"No. They're definitely my family, no question. Nothing will ever change that."

You and Toru stare at each other for a moment as you both try to work out what's going on in the other's head and where the lines are. When he doesn't reply back, you raise an eyebrow and prompt, "So.. you and Tobio..?"

He lets out a laugh that might be just a little bitter, "Please, there's no me and Tobio."

"Hm." You let it sit there because you're not one to pry more than that when someone is clearly somewhat unhappy. You'll get it out of Tobio later anyways.

And, cue lightbulb, "You were on the volleyball team together."

A cavalier smile spreads across his face at your question, it's definitely not sweet, teasing, or nice. It seems carefree but the expression in his eyes is almost telling you to back off. However, he still answers, "We were on the same team once, sure."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." You smile with what you hope is the kindness you want to relay and not the awkward uncertainty you're feeling, "Why? Do you have more you want to say?"

He studies you a moment longer before turning away to pick up his menu and study it instead. You still hear his quiet answer, "No."

You look away as well and your eyes fall over Tobio, who's looking back at you. His expressionless gaze doesn't convey much but, for once, even you can't read beneath it, and then the connection's cut when he glances away to the rides in the distance.

Okay.

The lunch goes surprisingly well considering the amount of tension around the table at the start. Mostly between Toru and Tobio, but even Iwaizumi seems more... engaged in the situation. Everyone else continues to get along fairly well and make up for those three, however, and the atmosphere eases out eventually. It probably helps that Tobio is quiet as per usual and Toru is unerringly good at pretending all is well in Oikawa-land.

When everyone heads out for the rest of the rides, you do catch Toru watching you interact with Tobio and Shin but you don't know what's so curious about your relationship with your cousins. What you do think is curious is his interest and attention when you're joking around with Karu or talking to Hiro. See, he doesn't seem to mind if you sit with your cousins, his friends or Hana, but somehow always manages to slip into the seat next to you if it looks like one of Hana's brothers will.

It's so obvious that you can't help but bring it up as you exit the picture booth at one of the rides, "Not that I should have to ask you permission, but are you going to let me sit with Karu or Hiro?"

"Do you want to sit with one of them?"

"Don't answer my question with a question."

"I like having you by my side."

"Still not an answer to my original question."

"Do you not want me next to you?"

"Stop avoiding my question or I'm going to assume you're jealous."

"Sounds like you want me to be jealous."

"I didn't say that."

"You also didn't deny it, Angel."

"Toru." You mean to admonish him for the little games he's playing but when his first name slips out and you see the wide grin start to spread across his face, you have to close your eyes in defeat.

It's with your eyes closed, as you're taking a breath to find your calm, you hear a soft smile in his voice as he calls to you, "Y/n."

And when you open your eyes he's holding up a printed picture from the ride you were just on. You and Toru are sitting next to each other, your hands interlocked between you again and you're trying to hold your hair down with your free hand, while strands still fly everywhere from the wind, to look over at him. Your expressions are caught in that moment, now eternal, as you're laughing at the cute pose he's trying to make for the picture but he's looking back at you and not the camera, with the happiest grin on his face.

"Why this one out of all the others?"

"I've been getting those too, just electronically. I wanted you to have this one."

"It's for me?"

"So you can remember how much I like you by my side."

You can only smile and take the picture from him, responding with a soft,  "Thank you."

"Say my name again, Angel."

"Oikawa."

"My first name."

"No."

"Please." He's giving you the cutest puppy eyes, but-

"I said no." And you turn to walk away before he can actually convince you, the smile still stretching your lips as you carefully tuck the picture into the hidden pocket, between your phone and cards to keep it from crumpling as much as possible.

-x-x-x-

Your group and Toru's end up going separate ways after an early dinner, which Miwa and her friend joined you all for. She got along famously with the unexpected additions to the group which you found pretty ironic. So did Toru, you guess, since he made it a point to state his delight at meeting a better Kageyama. No comment, you're biased.

You did have to promise Toru that you'd see him again before you left the park which, oopsie, you guess you never mentioned you'd also booked rooms to stay overnight. Haha. Yeah. You wonder if that means you can message him in the morning?

No, he'd just message you tonight if you don't first. He's already texting every so often and it's just been about fifteen minutes since you both went separate ways. So you end up texting him back to promise you'll see him in an hour or so, after some quality time with your cousins.

Back with the original group consisting of just your family, you all head over to one of the themed lounges to grab desserts and drinks. Tobio, of course, sticks with milk, while Miwa is all about getting her drink on with Sakepolitans - a cosmo made with sake.

Ren manages to convince her to order him an old fashioned or two, stating he's almost legal anyways - you roll your eyes at that - but you and Shin decide to experiment with the house recommendations. He goes with the Uji Matcha Latte while you go your typically coffee route with the café mocha.

An hour flies by fast as you all catch up on your day and make plans for the next but, by the end of it, Miwa is definitely in need of a bed, maybe with a trashcan by the side, and Tobio might actually be asleep on the table.

After telling Shin to stick with you and Tobio, Ren hauls Miwa away to get some sleep, letting you both know he'll be meeting back up with his friends after she's tucked in so to call if any of you need him. He does hesitate briefly, glancing between you and Shin, and you swear he mutters, "Just how much trouble can they get into here?" before shaking his head and leaving.

Hm. You throw a look over to Shin as he shakes Tobio awake and state, "Why don't you get him back to his room while I finish my coffee?"

He eyes you warily, considering your offer, "Right. Like you'll go to your room straight after?"

"What? Don't tell me you're not meeting up with Karu after you drop Tobio to bed."

His mouth opens but literally no words come out. Yeah, that's what you thought.

"What about you? Meeting up with your boyfriend?" Never mind, he found his words. Well, you can too.

"Why do sound like a elementary school kid? Oh right, emotionally you are one."

"I'm telling Ren that you're sneaking out." Rat. He would never, would he?

"You're literally just proving my point. Please, keep going."

"Why are you like this?" Ah, there's the crack. But you need to push a little more.

You lean back with a mocking smile, "Better than you at everything?"

Yup, now he's pouting. "Mean."

"It's genetic. You should know, you are too."

"Wow, I can't believe we're related."

"Me neither. Now, should I let you do your thing and have fun with your friend? Or do we call Ren and both end up stuck in our rooms for the night."

"How do you always...? Never mind." He grimaces in complete defeat, "Fine. Just keep your phone on and answer me right back if I message or call."

He's about to turn away but stops and adds, "And obviously old rules apply. You call immediately if you run into Ren so I can have my story together or make sure I'm back."

"Obviously." You smirk up at him over the mug before taking a sip.

But he didn't even have to say it. Whatever shit the two of you pull on each other, you also have each others backs when it counts. Especially with your older siblings. That was the pact those of you within a one to two year age range made with each other when you were all kids, as if any of you even had to. It's kind of cute you guess, but you'd never say that to any of them or they'd never stop harassing you.

As he heads off, you pull out your phone to message Toru and then decide to drop a picture of your drink on your twitter while you wait for his response. Which is unnecessary because the boy responds almost immediately. What, was he waiting by his phone?

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Y/n also stopped to get pics... at all the rides

-Toru might have been telling the truth and got them all lol and he was def caught looking at her in more than just that one ;)

-Not that she wasn't... I don't know about you, but I definitely think I know which ones they'll both get printed :)

A/N: Really getting there.. one more part left in this episode! Buckle up, it's the longest one <3

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot, @hawkthekinnie

[scripttorture]

Hi! You've talked a lot about the details involved in 'pumping' someone full of liquids, and I've considered subjecting a character to this - a healthy soldier in their late 20s. I'm curious about how to write the recovery process provided they're rescued a day or so after the torture and taken to a hospital. How would this be complicated if the liquids the victim was given included things like human waste, mud, salt, laxatives etc., and if the captors had beaten them after they were 'full'?

WhelpI’ve asked @scriptveterinarian and the good news is it’s highly unlikelytheir organs would rupture. Which is good because I’m not sure whatthe treatment for a popped stomach or intestine would look like.

Rupturingthe oesophagus ispossible especially when something like a tube or metal funnel isinserted into it while pumping. But drowning on the liquid is morelikely.

Accordingto ScriptVet the level of dissension can put pressure on thediaphragm making it difficult to breathe.

Anyone of those things can be fatal.

Thefact that pumping usually isn’tfatal suggests to me that for whatever reason most of the time thesethings don’t happen.

Anda big part of the reason why is probably that vomiting is the body’snatural response to this huge and unnatural level of stretching inthe stomach. If it’s getting to the point where the stomach ispainfully swollen, there’s pressure on the diaphragm and so forththe body expels the excess. If torturers were to keep going at thispoint there’s a good chance the victim could drown in their ownvomit.

So-my educated guess is that pumping is survivable because torturersgenerally stop when the victim starts to vomit large amounts ofliquid.

Thediarrhoea, which can come at the same time but will definitely show up later, is due to taking in more liquid than the body canabsorb. As far as I can tell.

Assumingthat the torturers start beating the victim around the time theystart vomiting; well the victim is probably going to vomit even more.It would cause a lot of pain. It shouldn’trupture the stomach because the torturersaren’t really capable of hitting with that sort of force (you’retalking car-collision force).

Thevictim accounts I could find aren’t clear on whether this wouldalso trigger diarrhoea. They describe feelings of weakness,light-headedness, shakes. Which aren’t unexpected when you’recoupling a large amount of pain with nausea and a prolonged period ofvomiting. Especially as most torture victims are already dehydratedand/or under fed.

I’mnot entirely sure what hospital treatment would look like. Thistorture is still used but is a lot less common than it was 80 yearsago. As a result I’m not really finding any medical articles ontreating it now.

Isuspectthat he’d probably have expelled most of the excess fluid by thetime he’s rescued. Which means his treatment would probably focuson any wounds he has and re-feeding/re-hydrating. That would probablybe done via a drip.

Eachof the things you’ve suggested adding to a pumping mixture wouldhave different effects. Some of them are pretty risky for thecharacter.

Humanwaste is going to cause an infection. Probably not in the stomach butin the throat. Stomach acid is generally pretty good at killing theinfection-causing microbes that would be present which is why I thinkthat’s less likely (it would still be possible).

Thethroat seems most likely to me because the implements torturers useto force liquid into the stomach generally cause small cuts in thethroat and mouth. Things like plastic tubing, metal funnels and thelike are forced into the mouth and to the back of the throat. Whichcreates a lot of small injuries and a lot of likely sites forinfection.

Idon’tthink this would be lethal in the time frame you’ve got. Thecharacter is at the hospital in plenty of time for the infection tobe treated. As the infection takes hold his throat may swell, makingbreathing difficult. But if he’s already in hospital by that pointhe should be alright- it’s something modern medicine can deal with.

Itwould also cause diarrhoea, there are some sources I’ll quote laterthat would help you with that. This would be dangerous, probably evenlife threatening. But it would also be relatively easy to treat in ahospital. 

The combination of the two however could result in a pretty life threatening condition. I think he’d need to be kept on a drip for quite a while to make sure he has enough fluids and ensure a constant delivery of antibiotics.

Mudis likely to be much more dangerous.

That’sbecause the big exception to the ‘stomachs are hard to rupture’stuff I was talking about earlier is...when the digestive tract isblocked by something solid and indigestible. Like mud.

Evenif the character’s stomach didn’trupture while the torturers were beating him pumping with mud wouldgive him incredibly serious digestive problems later on. It can inessence clog up the system. It’s not a substance the body canreally remove any way but physically and it is physically difficultto shift.

Thecases that are coming to mind are famine victims. Sometimes in themiddle of famine people will start to voluntarily eat mud. That’sbecause the pain from hunger is so bad that they just want to ease itany way they can. Mud can provide a very short term relief, anillusion of fullness. Until it passes a bit further and completelyblocks the intestines causing an agonising death.

I’mnot 100% clear on all the dangers and risks that are applicable whena character eats mud. ButI can give you an idea where to search. The technical term for eatinginedible things is ‘pica’, searching for that in relation tofamines in particular should help you find sets of symptoms andhopefully a treatment profile as well.

I’munsure how it could be treated or indeed if there’s a treatment andthat’s part of the danger. Hospital staff may not spot just how badthe situation is until it’s too late and something’s ruptured.

Outof all your suggestions my instinct is that mud is the most dangerousand would require the longest hospital stay. Possibly involving multiple surgeries.

Saltis easier. It would encourage the character to vomit more and leavehim even more dehydrated.

That’sa horrible feeling and a pretty lasting form of pain. But it iseasily remedied.

Dehydrationtends to cause headaches, light-headedness, tiredness and thesensation of a dry mouth. It can cause fainting, confusion andblurred vision. In extreme cases it can cause seizures.

I’vebeen dehydrated enough to faint and not be able to see straight anymore. In that state water tastes sweet and drinking it causes a sortof euphoric rush, almost like the early, pleasant stage ofdrunkenness.

Treatment would concentrate on rehydration.

Laxativeswould also cause the character to become more dehydrated.

I’mnot sure how long common laxatives effect people for. I thinkthey’re relatively short-acting but it would be best to check.There’s a big difference between the effect of a substance thatwould give him diarrhoea for a day and one that would give him it fora week. The first isn’t too worrying though it would likely beincredibly painful for the character. The second is much moredangerous even if he’s in a hospital.

Diarrhoeacan kill. In fact it is stillin the top ten causes of death world wide. Though it has fallen from5thto 9th(from 2000-2016), showing that we have made progress against thediseases that cause it.

Themajor risks if the character has diarrhoea for a long period aredehydration and lack of nutrition. He might need to be kept on a dripfor a while and it might be a long time before he’s back to fullstrength. I’m not sure exactly how long it would take or what thattreatment would look like.

Thereare resources on diarrhoeal diseases that would probably be a goodstarting point for working out what the treatment he’d receivewould look like. I’m not a medic so I can’t really give muchadvice myself. Butthe WHO has a page here which serves as a pretty good starting pointon diarrhoeal diseases, their prevention and treatment.

Noneof these substances would effect the pain the character feels whilehe’s being tortured. The initial period would be pretty similarwith each. It’s the longer term physical recovery that theseeffect. They’re each causing a prolonged period of sickness aftertorture, but they’re doing it in different ways.

Ithink that if you’re unsure which, if any, substance to pick thebest way to approach it is to think about how long you want thecharacter to be in hospital for. Salt will likely give the shortesthospital stay. Laxatives with a short term effect would also means ashort hospital stay.

Longerterm laxative and human waste would mean longer hospital stays- I amguessing here but I think 2-4 weeks wouldn’t be unreasonable.

Mudis likely to mean he’d be sick for a prolonged period of time.There are a lot of possible complications or things that could gowrong. He might need multiple surgeries. He might be in and out ofhospital for a much longer period of time.

Ihope that helps. :)

Disclaimer

[emptysurface]

Hi! I absolutely adore your Hear the Silence story! Kyo is beautifully characterized, the world building feels natural and real, I will forever miss Maki and Taku, and just everything is amazing. Thank you for writing it! I'm curious, what was Katsurou's pov of him cornering Kyo in ch. 21 and finding out about her reincarnation and what he saw in her mind?

Sorry for taking so long to write this! I’ve just been dealing with a lot lately, then getting a cold, and then feeling generally down and under the weather for a while, and I wanted to give this prompt the attention it definitely deserves! 

I hope at least it was worth the wait ^^ (This got a fair bit longer than intended, but… I’ve never actually had anyone complain to me about that so far :P)

Leaning back in the chair, Katsurou carefully considered the situation, weighing his options once again.

A year into being a Jounin sensei, he figured it was high time he addressed an issue he’d been aware of for quite a while.

Katsurou hadn’t exactly planned to ever be a sensei, in any capacity of the word, but here he was. With a team. Three brats and a ninken that all looked to him for guidance and advice in all things shinobi. And in some things that weren’t quite related to their profession, too.

Taku was surprisingly the easiest of them to handle; he had a good base of skills to build on, came from a good, stable home, and he was quick and resourceful, so long as he didn’t have to read.

Maki was diligent and polite, a bit easily offended at present, but that would get better in time. The civilian upbringing was hampering him slightly, but that, too, was getting better.

And then there was the truly troublesome one.

Not that Kyo made a nuisance of herself; quite the contrary. And most people would think it wasn’t an issue at all, the things Katsurou was feeling… concerned about.

Then again, most people either saw her age or her prodigal status and little else.

The only question, Katsurou mused, was how to go about this.

There were several avenues open to him, and just as many approaches, but… whatever he decided, he knew it would be crucial. It would set the tone for the rest of his and the girl’s relationship.

Postponing it to a later opportunity was also a possibility, he supposed, but… well. Katsurou couldn’t deny he was curious.

Because there were several things about his little poison enthusiast that didn’t quite add up.

Humming softly to himself, Katsurou glanced around his plain kitchen, the living room through the open doorway and once again considered his options.

Well. Having his home invaded by a small pack of Genin every now and then was far from the worst fate he could imagine for himself.

The little menaces grew on you.

 “What’s this about, sensei?” Kyo asked, peering up at him from across the kitchen table. Her face was open and the level of trust she showed towards him was somewhat daunting whenever he stopped to think about it.

 “You,” he replied, keeping his voice even and calm, still pondering how to best breach the subject.

 “Me?” Kyo asked, looking confused. As if she couldn’t fathom why anyone would be interested in her.

It almost made him want to smile at the irony.

“You’vebeen my students for a little over a year now,” Katsurou said, starting with a simple statement of fact. “I amvery good at what I do, and there are some things that just don’tquite,” he paused, considering his student intently, choosing his words with care, “add up. About you, Kyo.”

The look on her face told him many things, none of which were particularly encouraging or positive.

Katsurou idly wondered if he’d have to hurt anyone for having put it there, because someone was clearly responsible.

Full understanding of what it was he was talking about, the girl didn’t even attempt to feign ignorance. 

Fear.

Apprehension, anxious nervousness. He could list a few more, but they were all in the same vein.

“You’renot in trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continued sedately, bringing his mug to his lips for another sip oftea, doing his best to project calm and reassuring signals. “If that’d been the case, I would’ve brought you to T&Irather than my house.”

The thought of Kyo, small and only seven, in that place threatened to make him scowl.

Now that was not a place for children.

Kyo didn’t react much, and kept unnaturally still, as if wanting to avoid any kind of attention. Looking completely frozen.

Instead of pressing her, Katsurou put down his tea and began to talk.

 “I’ll speak and you’ll listen,” he said calmly, gaze not leaving the girl in front of him for so much as a second. And he proceeded to list a few of her better qualities; the things she’d been moved up her classes at the Academy for. The reasons why she’d been an early graduate.

Most children would have been pleased at the praise, happy and proud.

Kyo’s reaction?

 “I’m not a prodigy,” she blurted, seemingly without being able to stop herself.

Feeling faintly amused, Katsurou couldn’t help but wonder what she’d say if she knew how most people keeping an eye on the new generation spoke of her. The promise she was showing.

 “Iadmit that you’re not as intelligent as the Nara heir, for example,but you have something young Shikaku does not,” he leaned forward afraction in his seat, attentively watching for reactions. “You’re wise, Kyo. That’s very rare for achild your age.”

And he had not expected the brief flicker of bitterness across her face.

That was an odd reaction, all things considered.

 “Are you sure I’m not in trouble?” She asked, and traces of her earlier fear crept back onto her face.

 “You’vebeen my student for a year now, Kyo,” he repeated solemnly, meaning every word. “Ifanyone tries to claim something ridiculous like you’re an infiltratedenemy shinobi, they’ll have to answer to me, understood?” The girl was an oddity, but she was open and honest in a way that couldn’t be faked.

If Katsurou had to break a few limbs and instill an acute fear of death -or worse- in a few idiots to make his Genin feel safe, then so be it.

…Hokage probably should have taken that into consideration before giving him, of all people, a team.

 “I figure I died.”

The words hang in the air between them a second, and Kyo looked just about as surprised as Katsurou felt.

Then she slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide with something like panic.

Katsurou made sure not to shift his posture from the calm, relaxed slump he’d arranged it in, and his expression didn’t twitch in the slightest.

He didn’t want to frighten her, or make her think he wouldn’t hear her out to the end.

 “Before I was Kyo,” she tentatively added, and the level of trust her actions implicated were staggering.

Katsurou knew for a fact there were people who wouldn’t trust him a tenth of a fraction of the amount Kyo was showing without half a dozen contingency plans in place and just as many witnesses present.

 “Reincarnation,” he said slowly, not letting his thoughts colour his voice. “Very rare, but not entirely unheard of. How much do you remember?” It would certainly explain a lot, if the assumptions Katsurou was making turned out to have even a shred of credibility.

 “All of it?” Kyo said, though it sounded more like a question. As if Katsurou’s non-reaction had her confused. And then she continued, saying something that made him want to rub at his face, because it complicated things. “Except the last bit; that’s still a bit foggy, but I think I know how I died anyway.”

This seven year old girl, talking about dying like it was a mere footnote. The implications alone…

 “How old were you?” He asked, unable to help himself, because- well, it wasn’t every day you came across something like this, even in his line of business. And things were making more and more sense the more he heard.

 “Twenty six. Possibly twenty seven,” the girl sighed, looking sad.

Katsurou’s thoughts stilled.

His seven year old student was mentally older than him.

He almost felt like laughing.

Only is wasn’t really funny. Not in the slightest.

He continued to calmly question her, and for every answer, it painted a picture that became more and more clear. Things he’d noticed and noted down making so much sense now it was almost painful.

The more he learned, the more obvious it became that he’d have to try and learn everything he could about this, or it would come back and bite them later. He needed to know what it was he was dealing with, here.

Question was how much he’d have to cajole Kyo into letting him perform a Mind-Walk, entirely of her own volition, because if he fucked this up… his initial assessment would have been a tad off, if he wasn’t mistaken.

A child’s trust but with an adult’s knowledge of what was acceptable and not wasn’t anything to take lightly.

And then she went and surprised him by agreeing almost as soon as he asked.

Katsurou stared intently at the girl a long second, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. Nervous? Definitely. Frightened? No.

 “Let’s move this into the living room, then,” he said simply, deciding not to question this right now. He could analyze it to bits later, when he was alone, and had gotten a chance to digest things.

 “Okay, sensei,” Kyo agreed with what felt like far too much ease.

He’d have to talk to her about this, at some point, because if she treated everyone like this, Katsurou didn’t want to deal with that headache.

Talking Kyo through the procedure was easy; he’d done it countless times before. Granted, that was usually different. Less trust involved, and more gritty determination and focus.

Kyo made it all easy, and it helped that she was used to meditate.

Katsurou focused on the issue at hand, and learned a whole lot more than he had perhaps bargained for.

There were a lot of memories to go through.

And the things he learned… everything was making perfect sense now, Katsurou mused idly as he retreated out of his student’s head, watching her slowly compose herself again.

An entirely civilian life, but with its own hurdles to overcome. Some larger and more daunting that others.

The parents, though…

Taking a slow, deep breath, Katsurou idly wondered what he’d do with that man had he gotten a chance to get involved.

Probably not anything Kyo would thank him for.

There were certain kinds of people Katsurou would gladly pick apart, limb by limb, and the previous father certainly ticked a lot of boxes.

That the target of his attention had been his student just added a certain something.

And then came the realisation that he’d have to brief the Hokage about this, because it changed things.

Kyo was seven years old, that was entirely true, but she wasn’t just a seven year old girl.

If nothing else, she certainly had a unique perspective on a lot of things, and that wasn’t even contemplating the very different society her previous self had been brought up in.

The fact that Kyo’s main reaction to all of this was to seek assurance that he wouldn’t treat her differently was… Katsurou would really like to get his hands on the man that had contributed to Kyo’s previous body’s conception.

[overlord-off-record]

Looking for something to cheer me up. I’m not sure this is it. Anyway, more of that poison series. 3/?

---

In general, Gil had a tendency to avoid official functions. Perhaps he instinctively shunned the social set that once rejected him. Perhaps he truly preferred the company of the lowlifes of Paris. Perhaps he simply lacked the attention span to tolerate any of it. Whatever the case, when Tarvek saw him decorating Colette's arm, his eyebrows rose in a silent question. She smirked at him. Of course she did.

Tarvek watched Gil meander here and there, chatting with professors, with dignitaries, even with the Master of Paris himself. As though he belonged. As though some of these selfsame people had not treated him cruelly in childhood. Gil behaved as though it had never happened, which made Tarvek's chest ache. He watched Gil charm his childhood bullies, who also acted like they had always been friends. That part made Tarvek angry.

So he sulked in silence, trying not to glare when Gil laughed with a man who had once stolen his books, mocked him, called him nothing but Nameless. Well, the Nameless boy had grown into the Master's pet, and everyone knew at least that much. They would never dare bully him now. Gil no longer needed Tarvek.

"You look like you're chewing a mouthful of burnt coffee grounds."

Tarvek glanced at Colette. Of course she had found him. "Isn't he supposed to be yours for the evening?" he said, gesturing toward Gil. "Maybe you could keep him from setting something on fire?"

"We both know that there's no stopping him when he decides a situation needs a little fire."

Tarvek scoffed. "A little?" he said, and Colette laughed.

"Well, maybe more than a little. What about you?" She gave him an arch look. "Don't tell me you came by yourself. How unfashionable!"

"Worse. I've brought my cousin."

"Which one?" A reasonable note of alarm crept into Colette's voice. Tarvek believed that his family ought to alarm most people.

"Seffie," he said with a grin. "She can't have gone far."

Much to her credit, Colette's stare was steady as stone. "You assume I have something to say to her?"

"Oh, of course not."

"Of course not," Colette echoed, utterly lacking conviction. She patted Tarvek on the arm. "Don't pine all evening. It's terrible for the digestion." With that, she drifted away, leaving Tarvek with little else to do.

He watched Gil perhaps a bit too closely, for otherwise he never would have seen what happened. Gil drifted over to a knot of people, where he set his beverage down beside Seffie's. He talked in an animated manner, gesticulating and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Everyone watched him, rapt until he had finished explaining. Seffie sidled closer to him, but Gil evaded neatly when she made a subtle grab for his arm. He picked up Seffie's glass rather than his own, saluted the assembled company with it, and wandered away.

Tarvek watched Colette slip into the cluster of people around Seffie for just a moment before drifting off to talk to someone else. Then his stare returned to Gil, and he frowned.

Gil wobbled. Then he lifted the empty glass in his hand, frowned at it, and tucked it into a potted pyracantha. Tarvek moved to intercept him.

"You idiot," he hissed as he bumped up against Gil's side. "What was in Seffie's glass?"

"Dunno…" For a moment, his tone sounded like denial. Then he added, "Thought it was poison."

Tarvek processed this information. Stupid, apparently suicidal Gil stared at him, eyes wide and pupils dilated, making his brain turn in several useless circles before accomplishing any reliable thought. Who had attempted to drug Seffie? To what end? Why had Gil caught it instead of Varpa? Frowning, Tarvek glanced around. Where was Varpa, anyway? "Did you see who did it?"

"Oh, yes." Gil nodded in an odd, liquid way, as though his head might slide off his neck. "Can't give chase. A pity."

"Can you name the culprit?"

"Ummm… no." Gil beamed as though he knew Tarvek found his smile adorable. Dammit.

"Describe him," Tarvek said through his teeth.

Gil tried to gesture and succeeded at a loose flailing motion. "Big ugly sod."

"Oh, for pity's sake," Tarvek complained, when Gil added:

"Kinda seemed to like the color purple."

Oh. Of course. Family business. That still didn't clear up who would have tried to drug Seffie, but Tarvek could assume that he himself may also be a target. And Varpa could be incapacitated somewhere nearby, for all he really knew. Tarvek grimaced. "Come on," he said, trying to steer Gil away from the potted plants. "We need to find Colette. Now."

"Nuh-huh." Gil trundled along, yielding to the pressure of Tarvek's hand on his back. "Colette can catch him."

Probably not, but Tarvek didn't say so. "You're hopeless, you know that? I mean, I get why you'd swap glasses, but why would you actually drink it?"

"Seemed like the thing to do," Gil said with a sudden steadiness that Tarvek found unnerving. Then his steps faltered, and he started to hum softly.

"You're an idiot." Spotting Colette, Tarvek propelled Gil toward her. "And you're going to die of your stupidity one day. Mademoiselle Voltaire, forgive me, but I'm going to have to steal your alleged gentleman."

"Permanently, I hope?" Colette's grin faded when she looked at Gil. "Oh, what is it this time?"

Tarvek kept his expression relaxed, though his tone turned grim. "Drugged." He turned to Gil. "You're certain it's not poison?" Briefly, he made a mental list of the antidotes in his pockets.

"Oh, no, this stuff is weird. Psychotropic? I think that's the right word."

Tarvek let Gil lean against him, but he pointed in accusation. "He drank it on purpose. He thought it was poison. That's not just Mad, that's insane!" But he was getting off topic. "This drug, whatever it is, was meant for Seffie. Would you mind—"

"Keeping an eye on her?" Colette nodded. "Consider it done."

"Yes, you're a good egg," Gil said to Colette, grinning. Then he turned his guileless smile on Tarvek. "And you're… structural."

"I suppose that's a compliment," Tarvek grumbled. Colette waved them away.

"Go on. Take him home to sleep it off. I suppose you'll be noble about it."

Tarvek tried to peer down at Gil, who was listing at a precarious angle, sliding downward as he did. In ridiculous slow motion, he ended with his face against Tarvek's neck.

"Structural," Gil mumbled, muffled in Tarvek's collar.

"I'm sure." Tarvek began to doubt whether he could get Gil to walk under his own power. "I'm going to need that empty glass."

"Fern," Gil said with a vague gesture that nearly displaced an entire tray of drinks.

"Pyracantha," Tarvek corrected.

"Whatever."

Colette shook her head at them. "Go," she repeated. Then she craned her neck, looking around for Seffie.

"Look, I think we won't draw too much attention if you just pretend to be drunk. Think you can manage—As a matter of public record," Tarvek interrupted himself, "I need to know: Are you licking me, or are you drooling on me?"

"Mmph," Gil replied. The sound vibrated on Tarvek's skin, and he flinched away.

"Walk." Taking Gil by the shoulders, Tarvek frog-marched him back to the potted plants. "We're arguing because you're drunk again."

"Are we?" Gil gazed at him, eyes wide and a little misty.

Tarvek growled and dragged a hand down his own face in exasperation. "That's our cover," he hissed through his teeth. "Can you manage that?"

"Oh, I'm pretty good at making you yell at me." Gil's head bobbed in that odd, boneless way again. Tarvek wanted to reach out and steady it.

"That's because you're an idiot! It's for your own good."

Gil beamed at him. "Oh, are we playing now?"

While making a noise of frustration, Tarvek reached into the pyracantha and retrieved the empty glass. "We are most certainly not playing. I can't let you embarrass yourself in front of… these people." He slipped the glass into his coat pocket.

"What, them?" Gil made a rude noise and a dismissive gesture.

"Yes, them!" Tarvek felt a wave of genuine irritation. "People I've protected you from before! Or don't you remember?"

Gil went sullen and quiet. "Of course I remember." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, which somehow caused him to list dangerously to one side. Tarvek moved to prop him up.

"So we're leaving. Right now."

Gil yielded like overcooked pasta when Tarvek steered him toward the nearest exit, but he still voiced protests. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I want… wanted them to see me. To see that they don't matter now. That I'm…"

"The Sparkiest Spark they've ever met?"

"Hah, something like that." Gil gave him a small smile. Cool night air rushed over them as they stepped out onto the street.

"That supposes that they've never actually spoken to the Master," Tarvek pointed out. He considered transportation. Anything with a driver would constitute too great a hazard with Gil in this state. Anyway, it was a nice evening for a walk. Gil mumbled something that might have been agreement, and he leaned against Tarvek. Structural. Tarvek tried not to smile.

They walked in silence for a while, with Gil's arm looped somehow beneath Tarvek's coat. Tarvek pretended not to notice. Gil sagged and made small noises, possibly incomprehensible commentary. Tarvek tried to steady him, but they both stumbled, and he had to focus on his own footing. They blundered to a standstill.

"You boys have had too much!" called a pedestrian from across the street. Tarvek waved in acknowledgment of the comment.

"Tell him I'm not drunk," Gil whispered, and Tarvek shook his head. They continued onward. Another two blocks, and Gil's face went white with alarm. "Oh! Don't take me home. I… lost my keys."

"Lost?" Tarvek challenged the transparent lie.

Gil giggled. "Well, they were eaten by a hippo with mechanical legs. It's a long story."

"You are absolutely pathetic."

"Is that an endearment?"

Impaired Gil was growing entirely too savvy. Tarvek scowled at him. "You're an idiot."

"Who isn't?" With that, Gil proceeded to hum a cheery tune for another block and a half. Then he abruptly stopped. "Look, I know you're a terrible sneaky sneak," he said, "but you're a good friend to Colette. I appreciate that."

"Well, I'm not doing it for you," Tarvek scoffed.

"Oh. Um." Gil started to shuffle his feet. "You're not, um… You don't—"

"We're friends," Tarvek interrupted firmly. "No more than than." When Gil looked visibly relieved, he added, "You're not in love with her yourself, are you?" It seemed half of Paris was.

"Me? Oh, no. No," Gil repeated, sounding terribly sad. "I don't think I have the capacity to… to care about somebody in that way."

Trying to crush the wave of despair within him, Tarvek reached into his pocket for his keys. "No? You're probably just too busy trying to die in messy ways."

"Death is always messy," Gil replied, sounding eerily lucid again. Then he tilted his head and peered up the steps ahead of them. "Where are we?"

"My rooms."

"Rooms? Plural? Oh, that's fancy-pants." Gil lurched to the side, and Tarvek had to drag him back.

"I have no idea how you manage to survive without private lab space." If Tarvek could have shied from the hand on the small of his back, he would have. Instead, he used Gil's grip on him for leverage to drag him up the stairs.

Gil's grip on his waistband.

Tarvek fumbled his keys against the lock. How had Gil managed to get his hand beneath a well-fitted waistcoat? A silk shirt was not barrier enough between them. Tarvek tried to pretend it was.

"Having difficulty?" Gil needled.

Absolutely, yes. Without comment, Tarvek unlocked the door and led the way inside, disarming every trap as he went. It really wouldn't do to have Gil setting them off.

"Ooh…" Of course Gil released him and made for the lab equipment.

"Don't break my glassware." Tarvek took the glass from his pocket and swabbed the interior of it. "And don't steal my reagents," he added, snatching a bottle from Gil's hand.

"I'm not stealing." Gil propped his chin on Tarvek's shoulder, watching with rapt attention as he performed a quick analysis of the residue in the glass. His sigh tickled Tarvek's ear. "What… what is that incredible smell? Spice and something… some kind of resin?"

A swift blush burned Tarvek's cheeks, and he felt deep gratitude that Gil could not see his face. "Hair oil. I'm trying out a new formulation."

"It's good."

Tarvek made a small noise of agreement. He hated that Gil could affect him so easily, so carelessly. He hated it, but… Well, even if Gil never mentioned it again, Tarvek decided to keep that particular set of fragrances in his hair oil.

They leaned against one another in silence until Tarvek had the results he sought. "I know this drug," he grumbled, pushing Gil away so he could stand. "It causes brief unconsciousness—twenty minutes to an hour." He arched an eyebrow at Gil. "The dosage was obviously calculated for Seffie's body mass. Then," he continued, "the mark spills his guts for up to four hours, and forgets everything after sleeping it off."

"Huh," Gil said. Very helpful.

"So this must be the part where I get to interrogate you."

He had been joking, but Gil surprised Tarvek by saying, "Oh, no, I'll do the interrogating, thanks."

Tarvek laughed. "Sure, but I'm not the one who's drugged." He dropped himself into a wheeled chair and rolled dramatically away from Gil, arms spread in a gesture of invitation. "Take your best shot."

"Why do you hate me?"

Tarvek blinked at him. "I don't hate you." Not even close. "You frustrate me. You infuriate me." Sometimes even terrify. "But you have yet to inspire true hatred."

Gil bounced in place, which looked wildly unsteady. At least if he collapsed here, Tarvek needn't carry him anywhere. "Do you hate anyone?"

"Loads of people." Almost all of them family.

"Good."

Tarvek chuckled. "You're severely impaired, you know that?"

"I'm asking the questions," Gil objected. "What was I asking?"

"You asked about hate. I can only assume love comes next." Oh, now, why had he said that? Disgruntled with himself, Tarvek glared defiance at Gil.

"Good, yes, good." Gil nodded on every word. "What does love feel like?"

Not the question Tarvek had expected. "Torture," he said, not recognizing the blunder until it was too late.

Gil's eyes narrowed, shrewd and a little too lucid again. Then he resumed smiling. "Surely you of all people enjoy romance. Wine and poetry and flowers and all?"

More like incendiary devices and madcap chases through Paris. Tarvek shook his head. "I assume it's more fun when received with at least a bit of interest," he said, feeling bitter and cagey.

"You're Sparky and royal, and you're well groomed and always fashionable. You must not have confessed your intentions."

If Tarvek had been standing, he would have had to sit. Gil considered him desirable, at least to other people. What an unexpected lift to his self esteem! "You sound entirely too sure of that."

"Come on, there's no reason not to." Gil tried for a challenging stare, but ruined it by wobbling.

There were a thousand reasons not to. Tarvek sighed. "You can't know…"

"I'm sure you can do it," Gil interrupted. "You were brave enough to befriend me once. Just say: 'hey, I fancy you, and I'd like to kiss you.' See what happens."

Tarvek made his expression as blank as he could. "Hey. I fancy you, and I'd like to kiss you."

Beaming, Gil managed to lean in to thump him on the shoulder. "That's the ticket! Now you just need to go and find this—" He frowned. "Girl? Boy? I probably should have asked."

Tarvek swallowed an urge to cry, swallowed every hollow, aching heartbeat. "It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "I'll have to marry someone appropriate, so it's pointless anyway."

"Oho, so Tarvek loves someone beneath his station!" Gil grinned at him. "Good. Most royals are duller than a rubber knife."

"Do you want to get punched?"

"I'm asking the questions," Gil reminded him again, with a glint of glee in his grin.

Tarvek lifted his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "Ask," he said, though he felt surly and disinclined to answer anything else.

"What's stopping you from confessing your feelings?"

A good question. Tarvek eyed Gil with a wry twist to his lips. "Too many factors." How often had he weighed the warmth of Gil's lips against the dangers from his family? How often had he wondered just how hard Gil would hit him for making any overtures of romance? No, he decided now, Gil would not hit him. Gil would just stare in empty, blank confusion. Would that hurt worse? Probably. He sighed. "I know you can't understand, but it's just not safe."

Gil gestured at himself. "Drugged because of your family," he pointed out, and Tarvek frowned.

"Did I ever say it was family business?" he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"It-s y'r cousin's drink," Gil slurred. He swayed dangerously far to the left. Then, taking several slow, deep breaths, he righted himself. "Where were we?"

"I cannot believe you're doing this."

"Answer," Gil demanded, Sparky notes creeping into his voice. Tarvek eyed him with curiosity. Did this conversation really matter to him? Even knowing that he would forget everything?

"You think my romantic challenges can be easily resolved." Tarvek arched an eyebrow at Gil. "You're an idiot, but I appreciate that you mean well."

"I like you being honest. Why don't you do that more often?"

"You really want me to get killed, don't you? It's not safe," he said before Gil could chide him for asking another question. "I'm surprised you haven't realized that by now."

"You're better than you think you are." Gil's head bobbed in unstable assurance.

"Not as good as I should be," Tarvek grumbled. In so many ways, he failed his own expectations.

Gil stared at him, head tilting this way and that, somewhat like a bird. "What do you expect of yourself?"

Tarvek looked away. "I don't know… Heroics? Noble character?" He shrugged and shook his head. "To earn my birthright?" Really, it was a good question.

Gil leaned over him, hands clasped behind his back, grinning. He stayed like that until Tarvek scowled.

"What?"

"You're a romantic. One day, when you rule Sturmhalten…" Gil paused for long enough that Tarvek began to hope he might be trying to say something nice. "You'll grow disillusioned with the minutiae of governance and start feeding lawbreakers to the meanest monster you can find," he concluded with a sagely nod.

"What the hell!" Tarvek yelped. "Where would you even get that idea?"

"I've watched it happen. It's tragic. You're doomed." This last Gil delivered with a beatific smile.

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe, but not about this." Gil turned in a slow circle, bobbling as he went. He waved his arms loosely, and he gave a heartfelt sigh. "I really wish you and I were still friends." He stilled and he stared, his head sagged a little to one side.

"We would have ruined it by now anyway," Tarvek said. Probably owing to his own hopeless infatuation.

"Mmh," was Gil's noncommittal reply. He faltered, his leg muscles suddenly going loose like aspic jelly. Stage three. Despite his previous determination to allow this fool to collapse on the floor, Tarvek moved to catch him.

"Look at you. You're a mess." Tarvek looked down at the hand on the center of his chest, and his grip tightened on Gil's arms. No, it wasn't Gil who was a mess here. In this moment, Gil was blameless of everything but hanging on the brink of consciousness.

"Nnuh?" Gil sagged more, and Tarvek tried to consider the logistics of dragging or propelling him to the bed in the next room. Instead, he watched Gil's tongue roll out to moisten parched lips, and he let out an involuntary groan. Gil froze, as much as one could freeze while losing a fight for balance. "Wha's wrong?"

Wrong. There was no way Gil could be that much of an innocent. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"What?" Gil's eyes widened a moment before going unfocused. "Why…?"

He slumped in Tarvek's arms, unconscious.

Well.

Annoyed, Tarvek dragged Gil into the bedroom. "'Why,'" he grumbled, bitterness in every breath. "Because it's you, you complete imbecile. You're heavier than you look, you know. Are you… are you snoring?" He heaved Gil onto the bed. "Of course you are."

He hesitated for a moment before he loosened the fastenings of Gil's clothes. Surely that didn't count as taking advantage. He pulled the blankets up and he tucked them around Gil, who sighed and rubbed his feet together in his sleep. Feet never lie.

"Oh, what the hell." Tarvek leaned down one more time, and he pressed a swift, heartfelt kiss to Gil's forehead. "At least one of us is getting some sleep tonight." As much as it hurt, he turned away.

On the way out, Tarvek put a few drops of his hair oil into a warmer. He knew it was self-indulgent, but he wanted Gil to wake up to the fragrance. He locked up, and he stepped back out into the night.

Without Gil leaning on him, encumbering him, Tarvek quickly retraced his steps. He arrived back at the reception in time to see Seffie and Colette leaving together, laughing about something. The both seemed fine. Relieved, Tarvek skulked in the shadows, watching them. When he thought Seffie was too far to hear, he whistled five soft notes.

Varpa appeared, disgruntled and disheveled. "Your Highness?"

Tarvek rolled his shoulders, affecting an attitude of annoyance to cover his genuine concern. "I have a libertine in my bed right now, sleeping off a dose of Spill-All σ2. He… drooled on my collar. I want to know what happened. A full report by dawn."

Varpa, who looked to have had a rough night so far, tried to disguise exasperation with a small bow. "Sire." With that, the Smoke Knight vanished into the night.

Varpa would tell him. Oh, no, not everything, not even close. But enough that he could start unraveling the threads of this latest intrigue. And if he was exceptionally lucky, Gil might even stay out of the way this time.

Tarvek scoffed at himself. He was never, ever lucky.

[antiagingsol-blog]

My Top 5 All-Natural Anti-Aging Secrets

My Top 5 All-Natural Anti-Aging Secrets

Like most people, you have probably heard hundreds of well-intentioned adages about growing older. Read this article to find out how you can feel and look younger than you are.

Starting and keeping good relationships is a vital part of the growing older process. Being active in your community has been shown to increase lifespan. Focus on relationships with people you can confide in to get the most of your social life.

To keep the aging process healthy, continuously teach yourself new skills. Learning is important regardless of your age.

Increase the intensity of your workout regimen. As you grow older, your body requires more exercise to keep it looking and feeling strong and young. You should at least take 5 days out of every week to go on a thirty minute walk. Include some exercises that emphasize strength a couple of times each week. This will help you stay fit, which will keep you young and lively.

Everyone gets older. We may find ourselves in a position to no longer be able to care for ourselves. When this happens, it is wise to consider moving into an assisted living facility or nursing home. While not the ideal situation for some, in actuality this might be the best available option. There are professionals who work at the facility who are licensed and able to give you any assistance that you may need.

No matter where you are living, decorate it to make it feel like home. As we age, we often find that our tastes change, so make sure you keep your home consistent with your tastes. If you do change your living arrangements, include lots of special things in your new space to make it feel warm, homey, and welcoming.

Friendships are essential to your balance. No one is ever too old to begin new friendships. If you feel lonely, go meet some new people and build friendships that will enable you to have a wonderful long life.

Take time to enjoy living. If you set goals for yourself, you'll feel a sense of accomplishment after you reach those goals and have a higher quality of life overall.

As you age, you need to take greater care of your eyesight. Some eyesight loss is natural and unavoidable, but it's important to keep getting them checked to look for diseases that can worsen your eyesight if left untreated.

Stay away from harsh environments. Staying in the heat or cold for too long can do damage to your skin. Doing so leads to premature growing older effects as well as increases your chances for skin cancer later in life.

You should have a healthy diet. Aim for a diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables, and limit your intake of fats and sugars. A quality diet fuels your body, giving you the energy you need to be physically and mentally well.

Enjoy yourself! This is a great time for you to do the things you want and to make wonderful things happen. Look at every day as if it was your last.

Get a lot of water. If you are older, you are more prone to dehydration. Everyone should drink at least eight glasses of water per day.

Avoid falling. In older individuals falling is the main reason that people break bones and have serious injuries, some even die. Walking is a low impact exercise that can really make a difference in your health. Also try doing some light strength training exercises, and get plenty of vitamin D and calcium to keep your bones strong.

Make sure you compile a list of medications you currently take, and keep it with you. You should do this, especially if you fill prescriptions at different places. This is for your own safety, because many medicines should never be taken together.

Visiting your doctor can be pesky, but you need to stick with it and follow through whenever he or she recommends a test. By checking in with your body and health often, you can catch potential health issues early and have the best chance at effective treatment. The sooner you take action, the better.

Today it is considered wise, healthy eating to include a diet that is high in anti-oxidant foods for individuals in all age groups. They help fight against free radicals. You can find antioxidants in fruits and veggies that are richly colored, including spinach, carrots, tomatoes and blueberries.

Use injection therapy! This is a great way to reduce the effects of wrinkles. It works by relaxing facial muscles that cause wrinkles on the face. Additionally, unlike than surgery, many consider injection therapy to be fairly safe. It is important to remember, though, that multiple treatments may be necessary for the injections to work.

Getting fit and eating a good diet are great ways to avoid common growing older problems like loss of energy, loss of memory, and putting on weight. Eat a healthy diet, get plenty of exercise, and stay active to stave off the negative effects of getting older.

Use primer for applying makeup to wrinkled skin. This product is somewhat new and it uses silicone as its main ingredient. Primers will reduce the look of wrinkles making your skin look more smooth.

Keep your youthfulness longer by exercising regularly. Studies show that people who get regular exercise and follow a balanced diet show fewer signs of age than those who don't. Exercise is vitally important to a quality life, especially as a person ages. Exercise keeps skin looking supple and young, but it also improves muscle tone, encourages circulation and improves stamina.

By eating foods that are rich in fiber, you can better manage the effects of age. Fiber keeps your digestion efficient, preventing toxins from building up. These foods remove cholesterol, slow the digestion process and help keep your blood sugar normal during the day. Ingest some fiber because it will get your digestive system going strong.

It is hoped that this article has brought you a new understanding of the aging process, and how to keep yourself healthy. Keep having a young state of mind. Many elderly people today have active lives that were previously unheard of.

Read more interesting informations visit: best anti aging solutions

Shawn Fitzgerald from the director burn offices strength news yesterday I was searching for news items new interesting unique items for my show trend news and I happened to come across this article as advertisement it just came I just came across it of a skincare it's called better various skin care solution that makes you look 20 years younger takes away all your wrinkles and I couldn't believe it you know I know there's a lot of things on the internet and so they can do this but this was there with two things that caught me with us and first of all was the price it's for 49 I mean studying the price over of a meal you could take the skin the skin care solution and if it didn't work you to lose much money and secondly the before and after pictures which are fantastic and all the comments from the ladies and the men detractors also it's also for men now I'm in no way an advocate I don't work for this company I don't even know who they are they got a famous doctor on there as well so I was very intrigued about it I thought I'd share this this article with you guys so that you could you know you you and this is something that maybe you could try I don't know here's the article from the foot mom daily I'm not going to go through an extensively in the article I'll leave a link on my online in the video and you can go and check it out yourself but I'll just go through some of the pictures and what they say about this it starts off with the usual wording you know there won't need to buy something where would you spend 449 to look 20 years younger this is the question this miracle miraculous wrinkle remover does exactly that doctors call it better than Botox okay let's take 49 right there better better quarter better than Botox right okay when someone thought my husband was actually was actually my son that was the last straw she said we got the chance to sit down with a 71 year old woman who found an amazing new youth serum I used to just ignore those little wrinkles that started when I was about 40 but one wrinkle turns into a big one and it just leveled now interesting according to experts wrinkles and sagging skin get hot and hot Street as the months go by what women don't realize is that you don't just get a few more wrinkles every year your skin becomes increasingly weak and wrinkles multiply that old looking skin can be caused by poor diet sun exposure or lack of exercise things that most of us do without do without even thinking about as time goes by it gets harder and harder to treat your wrinkles okay so let's just go through some of this I mean this this is like a famous doctor and I've seen him on DSTV he's probably seen him on that on TV as well and he's showing this before and after and look at that further but the most interesting part is about this woman this woman there were 70 else there before she's seven years and look at her now I mean where is all over wrinkled squat I mean this is before and after so this is what intrigued me with us with a scream I was even very intrigued because I mean it's real no there's no real cure for aging I mean it nobody's everybody's looking for it but you know I'm intrigued by this now we're just gonna have a look at what Lauren she's a seven year old grandmother for the the deadness and you know how she perfected this Lauren a 70 old 71 year old grandma from jazz box African is a perfect example how little smart thinking and ingenuity can help you avoid unnecessary office and save you thousands of doctor's bills like most women wrote Lauren Lauren didn't have the extra cash to try every celebrity-endorsed anti-aging cream miracle cream let alone splurge on expensive selective medicines like plastic surgery or faceless before trying this simple trick she admits she used to spend almost every hour a day on an extensive skin care regime consisting of six different products with seriously disappointing results look sounds like my mother she was puts tons of cream on before she and my grandmother used to be the same she did eggs to go to bed cloaked in cream coltan and it doesn't help her okay so let's go through what a solution is after year of doing thorough research and speaking to other women about the own skincare but she learned of a product that was yielding real results and helping women take years of their skin beleve after after only a few days of adding beleve to his daily skin she saw noticeable results in the in the mirror okay I'm not gonna go through how it was this a long article but basically you need attribute vitamin C tightening you can look at it I'll leave the link in in in my pal and you can go directly onto this this this the site and have a look at this but this is how it works I'm just showing you the before and after look at the results of this lady yeah this lady - I mean can you believe it look at this lady okay okay finally yeah there's plenty of skip nurses where they sell a product and they give you a hundred percent I think it's a hundred percent guarantee back off I'm not as I'm percent satisfaction guarantee Oh or your full money-back yes interesting article not really a regular sort of a news article but I had to share it because I came across it and I was intrigued by I mean isn't it cure for aging I mean people since Egypt have been looking for ways to ladies since then I've been trying to cure themselves of all kinds of cream so I know for a fact you can't cure your inner organs I mean they still battling to find the cure aging skin nobody's really come up with a cure for that but when you see results like this I mean for the price first of all I thought geez the process is amazing and secondly I was intrigued by that but I've before and after pictures so yeah um you know this this could be something worth having a look at I don't work for this company I don't know anything about them I just came across this articles are not selling this item I just a lot share this with our viewers and see what they think about this and I think it's a great topic to talk about cuz you all want to look younger twenty years come on alright this is training news short is here from training using the dagger due north till tomorrow night with our next