#Anyway I had like. Some honorable mentions but none of them even passed two quarters so
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Hm hm here’s a question for ya, Bunny!
What do you think is the Thickest sticker in your collection?
I just saw the wood ones and they have some depth to em, was wondering if you have the kind with liquid and sequins inside or some other 3D aspect?
Silly questions require Answers!
Ooh good question!! Without a doubt it's this guy :]
Now these pictures don't do a great job showcasing depth, so I also took a picture from a different perspective, featuring a stack of nine quarters:
Definitely worthy of the title of a squishy sticker!!
(For context, the wooden stickers are probably between 1-2 quarters thickness-wise.)
Bonus: while I was trying to figure out how to showcase the sticker's thickness, I figured out that it fits perfectly in the hand of my LEGO Batman alarm clock xD
(It was the kid's toy in his Bat Burger meal <3)
#DIDNT MEAN TO LEAVE YOU HANGING SO LONG#I do love these asks my brain is just bad at Responding To Things#Anyway I had like. Some honorable mentions but none of them even passed two quarters so#We have an indisputable champion xD#stickers#sticker collection#Asks my beloved#Idrawgaystffs#Tempted to give u a special Silly Questions tag <33#We shall see#Dogs#Sticko brand#Food#Puffy!#Textured#animals#cute#Fun#individuals
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A Night to Forget
Hi guys~! This was the surprise I mentioned earlier, its my first ever Yamichar fic! But...i’m not really happy with it. Its kinda all over the place to me and they kinda feel out of character, so I may edit this again or delete it I dunno. But maybe you guys will like it! I hope its ok.
Genre: Fluff? Maybe?
Word count: 2,091
Warnings: None except drunkeness
———-
‘How did I end up in this situation?’ Was the first thought that went through Charlotte Roselei’s mind. She had decided to take a much needed break from her girls, now mind you she loves the girls in her squad, but sometimes they could be a bit...much. Normally, Charlotte wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this and yet here she was. She had been to this bar on one other occasion and it was with the other Captains. From what she understood it was where Yami Sukehiro, the Black Bulls captain, liked to frequent. Which was definitely not the reason she decided to stop by. Nope. The thought never even crossed her mind. Charlotte had only decided to come here on a whim, there was certainly no ulterior motive. That’s what she told herself at least.
Charlotte wondered how long it had been since she had last seen Yami. Maybe a month? Maybe longer if she were to guess. A part of her was thankful she hadn’t seen him as she always seemed to make a complete fool out of herself when he was around, but the other part of her, seemed to truly miss him and the way he made her heart race when he looked at her. Charlotte held her drink in between her hands, debating on whether taking a drink would help her relax a bit or if it would only inhibit her reaction if some man tried to make a pass at her or if they were suddenly attacked. Finally coming to the decision that a couple of sips wouldn’t hurt, she took the glass in her hand and took a drink.
Charlotte swore she only had two sips. Two sips! Yet somehow her head was kinda foggy, she felt somewhat sleepy, and warm. Like her face and body was next to a heater. Charlotte shook her head as though it would clear the fog, but all it did was make her dizzy. ‘In this situation, the best course of action would be to go home.’ She thought with a firm nod and she made her way off the bar stool and towards the tavern door, maybe she would have better luck seeing Yami at a future meeting with the Wizard King. Suddenly, Charlotte ran into some solid force that nearly knocked her over. ‘Good job Charlotte, you’re so wrapped up in thinking about Yami Sukehiro that you forgot to open the door!’ She berated herself until the door reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. ‘Wait...doors don’t have arms!’ Charlotte instantly followed the arm to its owner and she felt her heart speed up and her face begin to flush even more.
“ Hey Prickly Princess, you alright?” Came the voice of Yami Sukehiro, the person she had been waiting two hours for. She blinked up at him, she thought for a split second she saw concern in his eyes but decided it was a figment of her drunk imagination. Charlotte pulled her arm out of his grasp and crossed them.
“ I’m fine Yami, I’m just headed back to the head quarters. I’ll see you at the next meeting yes?” She asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight slur in her voice.
“Uh, sure. See you than I guess.” Yami said unsure as he moved away from the door to allow her to leave. She gave him a small nod and walked out the door, but not before slightly tripping over the threshold.
Yami stared after her, was she drunk? Her slightly slurred speech, her glossy eyes, and for sure her flushed face indicated she was. Yami began to walk over to the bar before he stopped, ‘Should I go after her?’ Yami asked himself. Charlotte was a strong woman, she could handle herself if she needed too, that he was more than sure of. She could take out an entire army if she were inclined to do so, but a small part of him wondered if she would truly be alright, that she wouldn’t somehow trip and fall into the water canal or something. Yami began to chuckle at the image of Charlotte falling into the water and her reaction, and as much as he would be amused to see that he eventually sighed and turned around.
Charlotte couldn’t believe she let the opportunity to talk to Yami slip from her fingers, that was the reason she even went to that stupid tavern! But she was so embarrassed that he saw her like this she felt she had to get out of their immediately. ‘Maybe this is all he and I are meant to be. Nothing more than colleagues.’ It was a sad thought but it made sense to her, it seemed like the universe was doing everything it could to keep her from confessing to him. ‘Oh well, I didn’t need a man before and I certainly don’t need one now.’ Charlotte nodded firmly before instantly regretting it, the world began to spin again. Just as she was about to lose her footing, a pair of strong arms grabbed her. Instantly Charlotte whipped around and punched her would be attacker square on the jaw, she wasn’t going to go anywhere without a fight. After her attacker let go, Charlotte moved to her fighting stance, ready for an attack but she was shocked when he stood up straight and she was looking into a pair of familiar grey eyes.
“ Y-Yami?” Charlotte relaxed and looked at him, even in the dim street lantern she could see a black eye forming on his face.
“ That was one hell of a punch princess.” Yami said as he rubbed his sore face, she scoffed.
“ You doubted my strength?” She asked crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.
“ No, I just never thought I’d be on the receiving end of one of your famous Roselei punches is all.” Charlotte slightly blushed at this and dropped her arms.
“ I’m sorry, I should’ve looked before punching you.” Yami waved her apology away as he walked towards her.
“ It’s fine, c’mon prickly princess, I’ll walk you back to your head quarters.” He walked past her as he said this, Charlotte whipped around to look at him.
“ I don’t need anyone to escort me home.” She told him, although a small voice in her head tried to encourage her to let him escort her home.
“ I know that, you’re one of the strongest people I know. So I believe you can handle yourself but,” Yami turned to look at her. “ I’d feel a lot better knowing you made it there safely myself.” Charlottes face flushed even more at his words, she knew Yami rarely showed people how much he cared for them so she felt truly honored to hear him say that. As she was about to thank him for his concern he continued.
“ Plus the last thing we need is you tripping and falling into some sink hole or something.” Charlotte glared at him and began to walk forward. ‘And here I was thinking he was actually concerned about me!’ She shook her head, she really needed to stop doing that because the world began spinning again. Charlotte stumbled into Yami and she didn’t think her face could get any more red.
“ How much have you had to drink?” Yami asked while keeping Charlotte steady, she looked up at him as she tried to think.
“Half a glass maybe.” She told him, Yami blinked a couple of times at her.
“Half a glass?” He asked and when she nodded in confirmation he sighed and put her arm around his shoulder and began to help her walk. “ You really are a light weight huh?” He added with a chuckle and all Charlotte could do was glare.
“ I’m sorry not everyone has the same alcohol tolerance as you.” Again Yami chuckled and Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
‘How did I end up in this situation?’ Was the first thought that went through Charlotte's mind, her arm wrapped around Yami’s shoulder, him helping her walk back to her head quarters, all because she couldn’t hold her liquor. She and Yami had walked in silence for a while, she had been too embarrassed to start a conversation. She hated that Yami saw her like this, saw that she was so weak that she needed help walking, she hated it. She couldn’t even look at him, so she either kept her gaze on the ground or straight ahead.
“ What were you doing at the tavern anyway?” Yami asked her suddenly, Charlotte quickly looked up at him surprised by his question. “ It’s not really a place you frequent.”
“I...” She began, really unsure of how to answer him, in this state her brain couldn’t really come up with a good excuse so she decided to go with the truth. “ I went there to see you.”
“ To see me? What for?” Yami asked curiously, he couldn’t think of a reason as to why the Captain of the Blue Rose knights would want to see him. As Charlotte’s face flushed even more Yami began to wonder if she had actually had more than one drink.
“ I just haven’t seen you in a while and I wanted to see if you were ok.” She told him softly as she looked away again, Yami stopped walking and looked down at her.
“ You know you could’ve come by the hide out at anytime,” He told her “ so I don’t think that’s the only reason you wanted to see me.” Charlotte blinked, sometimes she could truly forget how perceptive he was. She continued to stare at the ground, hoping it would offer her some answers. If she was being completely honest with herself, she had gone to the bar to not only get away from her girls for a bit, but she also wanted to confess her feelings for Yami.
“ Actually,” Charlotte straightened herself up and looked him square in the eyes. “ there was something else.” This was it. She was finally going to tell Yami Sukehiro how she felt.
“ Ok, go ahead than.” Yami gave her his undivided attention and she couldn’t help but feel very nervous as she stared into his grey eyes. She cleared her throat before she began to speak.
“Yami Sukehiro I lo-“ Suddenly, the world began to dim ‘W-what’s going on? No. Nononono. NO! Not know, why’d it have to be right before I told him I loved him?’ Her voice screamed inside her head as the entire world went dark.
Charlotte Roselei had passed out.
“Hey! Hey Charlotte! Are you ok?” Yami quickly caught her before she could fall, concern etched on his face. When he realized she had only passed out he let out a sigh of relief, he than picked her up and carried her in his arms as he began to walk back to her head quarters. A small chuckle slipped past his lips.
“ Someone really needs to teach you how to hold your liquor better Prickly Princess.”
~~~~~~
The next morning, Charlotte woke up with a pounding headache. She was unable to recall the previous nights events, she knew she had gone to the tavern and had waited for Yami but after that it was all a blur. She looked towards the door as Sol knocked before entering. A wave of relief washed over the young girls face.
“Oh good you’re finally awake Char!” Sol said happily as she hand her Captain a glass of water before sitting down in a chair next to her bed.
“ I told you, call me Captain.” If Charlotte had a gold coin for every time she had to remind Sol of this, she would probably be richer than the King of the Clover Kingdom.
“ Whatever you say Captain Char!” Sol replied cheerfully and all Charlotte could do was sigh as she put her glass on the table next to her bed.
“ Sol, how did I end up back here?” Charlotte noticed the young girls face redden slightly before she answered.
“ U-Um...well.” Sol scratched the back of her head nervously as she recounted the previous night.
As all the memories of the previous night flooded back into Charlotte Roselei’s head when Sol began to explain, the entire Capital could hear the embarrassed scream that came from the Blue Rose Knights head quarters.
——
I’m sorry it’s not that good, there was more I wanted to add like a small scene between Sol and Yami but I might make that a small drabble or something. I just feel like I could’ve done better with this 😞. I also think I rushed the ending a bit too. But hopefully you guys maybe enjoyed it! If anyone wants to be added to the tag list please let me know! I hope you all have a good day~!
Tag List: @eme-eleff
#black clover#yamichar#yami x charlotte#charlotte x yami#i’m sorry#have a good day everyone!#first fic with canon characters
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More Last Holiday Musings...
I want to poke at that interdimensional geoscope a little more, because upon reading it over again, I think I splashed it up a little fast and there are a couple of points I’d like to be clearer about. I meant to queue this up to post last night but also want it to be up before Gimme Shelter so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
This is more blue curtains lit crit with a dash of folklore and an honorable mention for post-structuralism. And we’re talking about Supernatural after all, so this is sort of... well, it’s about endings.
Last Holiday was not a typical “filler” or even a typical MOTW episode. It felt extremely insular, possibly more so than any other episode I can think at any other point in the series. As opposed to the usual crowd of “locals,” a spate of victims, and a couple of red herring suspects, the only other people in this ep besides the Winchesters (including Jack) and Mrs. Butters were the two vampires and Cuthbert Sinclair. There was no “case” as in a usual MOTW-- there was no Chuck Struggle, either, and the lack of mytharc was strange against the lack of “filler” schema. That lack of “MOTW investigation” marked this episode also as being about “curiosity”-- the Winchesters all-too-quickly took Mrs. Butters for granted-- Dean even dismissed her as a “Magic Roomba” and that seemed to settle the matter. Furthermore, the moment that Dean spotted Mrs. B in his room, the stage was set for Antics ™ when she held up his goofy Scooby boxers, and indeed a zaniness, an almost manic energy drove the action forward at a breakneck pace. [Spoiler alert, we do get “investigation” in the next episode, 15x15 Gimme Shelter, as stills and the preview show that Castiel and Jack will be teaming up together, in yet another shake-up of the usual “MOTW” template, almost like we can expect the other side of a coin when Sam and Dean switch places with Cas...] These features set Last Holiday apart as not so much “filler” as “between,” as in there was struggle before, and there will be struggle after, but for a while there was cake. (Contrast this to the usual “peril of the threshold” that usually shrouds liminality if you’d like.)
At the end of Last Holiday, however, we finally get to find out what that old blue telescope really is, and with that name we get confirmation that there are no more alternate universes-- Chuck has burned them all. Viewers are left to come to the conclusion that in retrospect the telescope-thing could have changed the course of season 13 completely. The reveal is played off as darkly funny, but it’s also kind of a gut-wrenching moment, too. All the heartbreak of the last two and a half years, reviewed now through the lens of “if only.” If only they’d known about Mrs. Butters from the time they found the bunker, “none of this would have happened”… they’d have had monster radar, they’d have had the geoscope, they would have had supernatural help of a completely different level.
The temptation to read Last Holiday as a Chuck-free episode is strong, but fraught-- the threat of Chuck’s involvement has been established by a pattern this season (well the pattern is woven throughout the whole series really but Dabb has deliberately structured these last three seasons with an exponentially increasing frequency.) I feel like we’ve been conditioned this season in particular to hold ourselves in a perpetual flinch, to be afraid of what we’ll learn “in retrospect.” That geoscope was really_good_subtext, and it is entirely possible, even encouraged, at this point in the plot to take information we’ve learned from the naming of the object, examine our own conditioned response to this episode, and apply both things to the structure of the season so far and make a prediction as to what might happen in the main plot. That’s what I mean about subtext getting loud. We’ve been given the green-light to make a prediction about The Struggle and march forward with it, and see if we will be correct by extrapolating the pattern, or if that expectation will be subverted (the twist is set up to run either way, so either outcome is satisfying.) It is Melville-esque architecture of the highest degree;I could write another thousand words just about that. So I have a prediction that I’m hanging on to, because of what we’ve learned from the geoscope, and what kinds of clues were hung up in Last Holiday, and I’m super excited to either have my hunch confirmed or be frightfully and delightedly surprised. I mean, where the fuck did Jeremy Adams even come from? He’s like our own Mrs. Butters, showing up in the last quarter to run a couple game-changing balls into the end zone, it’s bonkers. I mean, I know writing mysteries is hard and requires still AND cunning, but damn, son.
But anyway, back to the geoscope…
I’m perplexed, from a very “lit crit” perspective, but this is where I’m at and why I referenced blue curtains-- if you shine too bright a light on subtext, does it evaporate-- like looking through an interdimensional geoscope and not seeing anything-- or is “subtext” sometimes not some ephemeral fever-dream that we as viewers conjure up through our experiential interlocution with the text but something a writer has steeped into the narrative as part of their craft? Or when you’re talking about an evolving iteration of writers, is it possible that one picks up a thread that another wove in for something else, repurposing or amplifying it? And, when perhaps is something deliberately instilled in the text in order to become “text” at just the right time? In Moby Dick, [spoiler alert lol] Quequeg’s coffin-- formerly one of many symbolic vehicles used to foreshadow the doom of the Pequod-- is repurposed as a life buoy and becomes the actual object that saves Ishmael’s life, transforming it from a portent of disaster to a symbol of salvation and then to one of Ishmael’s guilt for surviving Ahab’s madness-- the guilt that had been made text by the very opening line of the book, “Call me Ishmael.” In retrospect, the connotations of wandering, exile and salvation behind the name that the narrator gives himself become crystal clear. The problem that the post-structuralist model of “reading” as simultaneously “creating the text” has manufactured is that the idea that “subtext” can often be discounted as something dreamed up wholecloth by the reader, and thus inferior, imaginary, even delusional (and I use that last word knowing what a loaded term that is in the spn fandom, but this is not about a ship, even) where once it was considered to be a valid and measurable part of the text itself, like that dang coffin. It was the basement, the underpinnings, the catacombs below the opera house sure, but it helped to hold up the structure. And for some reason, putting subtext into a piece of media has become passe, or cringe? Anyway, not to be bitter on main but it didn’t used to be this way, at least not in the heady early days of postmodernism. So that green light? Critical hit against blue curtains. And while yes, some readings are going to be better supported than others, and the wild variety of checklists in this fandom mean that some conclusions have been drawn which can’t pan out, if you’re paying attention to the structure, the subtexts, the alchemical/psychoanalytical/postmodern themata, the ending will be very satisfying.
So. What was once speculated to be a symbol for emotional lows or turning points (among other things) in the bunker was textually hit with a bright green light, then Dean got curious about it in text, and we were told-- in text-- that oh it’s just a fancy spyglass, and now that the other worlds are gone, it has no purpose…. that’s what I mean about the geoscope now being “pure”-- it wasn’t clear whether the telescope ever had any function, subtetxtual or not, and now that it’s certain what it’s “function” was, it’s now freed up as a “symbol”-- unless like in Moby Dick it’s new “purpose” is revealed later, but right now it’s caught in this liminal place of not-quite-clue and not-quite-metaphor...
However, and I didn’t put this in my first post because I was trying to be fast and not a wet blanket, but I felt like finally naming the geoscope was an ending.
This is literally Singer, Dabb, and Co tidying up the house before locking it behind them.
I think when Dean said he didn’t see anything through the “telescope thing,” that we’re to understand that maybe this was the last hurrah of the cute, zany, campy “subtext” or even “metatext” if you’d rather that so many of us have been parsing and which has gotten so weird and bright since season 12/13. I think I said in one of the folklore posts that writing about some of the things I write about feels like making daisy chains in the endzone during the big game. Which is fun, that’s how I personally got through having to be in AYSO soccer for four years, by looking for four leafed clovers and eating orange quarters. And we got a wood nymph in this episode, textually even, so I could easily check the “folklore” box on this one. But the sheer euphoria of Last Holiday and all the sparkles it brought into the story aren’t meant to last. When you look back on fifteen years of text, a lot of it is bleak, miserable stuff. That’s not to say that episodes like Yellow Fever and Hunteri Heroici and Fan Fiction et al shouldn’t be celebrated. But I think from here on out, things are going to be less “golly gee, three birthdays!” and more “There she blows! --there she blows! A hump like a snowhill!”
This episode was a gift in many ways, not just for the sense of glee it transmitted-- it also did so much work and there are things I want to yell about in the way language was hit, the red versus green lighting, the way the backwards holidays worked, the projector as a metaphor for Mrs. B projecting her regrets and fears onto Jack, the amount of food that was created and consumed, how that smoothie was also an echo of “fairy food” or an underworld pact if you squint-- but the stakes are so high now. We haven’t been shown the next valley-- there was no final scene of Chuck rubbing his hands together like the villain from a melodrama, for example-- but the last image we got was Jack blowing out a candle. After the candle is blown out, the cake is dismantled and consumed. Once the story is over, all the themes that are so hard to grapple in a text like a television show can be gathered up and analyzed. (IS that all, though? After all, Dean made his own cake later, which, like, echoes of the “oh two cakes” comic lol...)
Since I really never want to leave anything I toss out on this blog on a last note of doom and gloom, however, I do want to say that I too understand what that last image meant. It meant, as Sam said, make a wish. Think of the future, think of free will, and hope for something wonderful to happen. (or do like me and wonder what the hell Jack wished for with dread and anticipation ha ha ha.)
#the poststructuralism of supernatural#the folklore of supernatural#no more tags right now#tag later
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I love Free Day because it means I can do Whatever I Want and I get to rb it to tucweek along with the incredible art pieces and insightful analysis other people have made and mine’s just, like, TUC as vines.
Anyway. Here’s the definitive power ranking of all minor characters* in the Underland Chronicles. It's quite long, because I tried to use every character.
Icarus -this DUUUUDE. This GUYYYYY. SUCKS! -“uh-oh looks like I’m infected with the plague better fly directly into a social gathering” -would be an anti-masker probably 0/10
Reekwell and Gushgore -Fangor and Shed part two, but unfunny this time. 1/10 y’all suck give me Fangor and Shed back
Purvox -Purvox is apparently a beautiful red spider who teaches Hazard how to “speak” Spinner. That’s cool. -that’s it. Why did Suzanne even feel the need to name her? I’m grateful for the extra details but 2/10
Ajax -mean. -nobody likes him -this is probably why he gets on so well with Solovet -some sort of flier general, it seems, which is pretty cool 2/10
Hero & Kent -twins, I guess that’s fun -they’re only like eight but they still Smirk Evilly. Good for them 2/10 just because there’s 2 of them
Anchel & Daphne -some randos Keeda mentions as dead. They probably had some sort of significance to be mentioned by name but We’ll Never Know. 2/10 RIP though. I’m sure you’re worth higher than this but I don’t even know who you are
Horatio -crony #1 -has a crush on Dulcet. Didn’t we all 3.5/10. Boosted solely by association with Dulcet
Marcus -crony #2 3/10
Wevox -thought her name was Weavox until I began writing this post -sort of “Was Margaret Thatcher a Girlboss?” vibes -“As it is, Vikus, we will not drink. Web them” is a RAW line and it bounces around my head sometimes -the spiders are clearly very crafty about their political relations but she was not going to hesitate for a MOMENT to consider the ramifications of killing the monarch of Regalia and we gotta respect that -docking points for the girlboss thing, though. 4/10
Stellovet -queen of insults you gotta be honest -had an INCREDIBLE amount of impact for only having like three lines. I remember being like 11 and reading so many fics on Fan Fiction Dot Net where she was a scheming villain -funny how Luxa thinks her endgame is just becoming a princess. She doesn’t care beyond that she just wants to be royalty 4/10
Chim -baby -ok she’s 5 -doesn’t do anything but look confused and help provide a gateway for Howard to look like a good person 5/10, for years of life. What’s even your name? Chimney?
Andromeda -she’s good. She is an Absolute Beast when she crosses the Waterway with Howard and Mareth, definitely saved Mareth’s life -loves Mareth very much :) -shuns Ares at first but comes around, we still gotta knock her for this though 5/10
Clawsin & Bloodlet & Ratriff -Some folks who go to Ripred’s side, Clawsin gets blinded from the Bane, Ratriff gets his arm ripped off by the Bane, it is what it is 5/10 collectively
Reflex -man’s got jokes -very helpful with the code -shoots streamers of silk around the room when they break it -came to Regalia secretly... secretly to whom? The spinners? The gnawers? Whatever, he’s a rebel either way -I had to look up his name though, so apparently not a lot of impact. Sorry Reflex 5/10
Treflex -announced he was joining the quest, then IMMEDIATELY died. Yes king give us nothing -made a good snack? Gross. 5/10
Cevian -the scene where they find her body is beautifully written and so heartbreaking. She’s the catalyst for the entire fourth book -gives Aurora the opportunity to make her first ever big impassioned speech. It’s what Aurora deserved -still, she doesn’t get any dialogue so I can’t vote her super high 5/10
Euripides -seems nice -always described as “Vikus’ big grey bat,” never just big bat, never just grey bat -tells Luxa to teach Gregor how to ride a bat because his neck is getting bruised lol -nice of him not to embarrass Gregor though 6/10 speak up for yourself, king
Pend -takes Boots back to Regalia after the moth brings her to the crawlers’ land -Vikus recognizes him by name which is really impressive since crawlers look pretty homogenous, although we are told Vikus is better than most at picking them out. Still, Pend is probably a high rolling crawler. 6/10
The scorpions -I know I’m supposed to be doing named characters but they’re pretty cool. The passage they’re in is a really fun read. Mad respect 6/10 I’ll see y’all in Scorpio szn, baby
Razor -showed SHAME and GUILT in the first book when he got called out by Ripred -raised Pearlpelt as if he was his own. In payment, Pearlpelt knocked him off a cliff and then tried to eat him to hide the evidence 6/10
Fangor and Shed -funny dudes. -apparently constantly drunk 6/10
Gox -Gox got shit DONE, okay? Gox got shit DONE. -would eat your carcass without a moment of hesitation. It’s fine. 6/10
Hermes -this guy is great! -brings Luxa her crown -gets seriously injured while protecting Lizzie on their way to Regalia -might be dead tbh no one ever says 7/10
Keeda -okay listen. Keeda’s great. Keeda is that warrior at the Battle of Marathon who ran all the way back to Athens to report their victory and immediately die, except Keeda was reporting that the gnawers were about to invade -listen I know she was dealing with some other stuff, but Vikus asks, “how many rats?” And she says “many. Many rats” ??? No estimate? “An army?” Whatever. We give her a pass. 7/10 RIP
Pandora -FUCK -her death was possibly the MOST disturbing passage I’ve ever read. I could see it so, so vividly in my head. Man I remember the horror -she just wanted to explore 7/10 but also 2/10 for emotional trauma
Queen Athena -ICONIC one-liner in Curse of the Warmbloods, absolutely demolishes the gnawers over their treatment of the nibblers -I’m really biased towards her because Athena is my favorite goddess -probably could’ve done more for Ares, especially as seeing she’s supposed to be perceptive and a really good judge of character and whatnot 7/10
Daedalus -flinches in fear when Boots says she’s gonna sing a for him, specifically -basically pledges his life to Lizzie in the event the Code Room is attacked so that’s very nice 7/10
Heronian -she’s in a full body cast, but that will not stop her. 8/10
Susannah -can we talk about how she lost both of her siblings and she just keeps trucking along? -REALLY wish we knew more about her -clearly Very Kind. Can you please ask your daughter to be nicer -takes really good care of everyone she comes across :) 8/10
Min -creaky old cockroach dance 9/10
Frill -was cool -taught everyone the marks of secret -taught Hamnet about pacifism and stuff too -I get the feeling she was wayyyyy more important to Hazard and Hamnet and their survival than Gregor’s narrative really dives into 9/10
Mr. Cormaci -nice man. Gave Gregor quarters. 10/10
Gregor’s grandma -cool lady, you can’t deny! -tells Gregor he can’t outrun his issues -has a super cool quilt -who IS Simon??? 10/10
Scalene, Euclidian, Root, Cube, and Newton -felt obligated to include all these kiddos because they are, in fact, named, even though none of them get any dialogue or anything else for that matter, really -Scalene was a little nibbler pup that found her mom in the Arena, Euclidian and Root are two more that the mom was looking for, Newton was one that no one claimed but some other guy was like “any of us will take him” which is :’) but also, so, so sad. -Cube was the pup Luxa named that ended up in the pit in the Firelands -Scalene and Newton survived a genocide and Euclidian which is baller any way you swing it 10/10
Tick -:( :( :( -the selflessness. -I shipped her with Temp when I was 8? I can’t answer for that 10/10
York -LMAOOOO this guy’s a LEGEND -7 ft tall. -fights with a zweihander. -says fuck, canonically. -hosts hundreds of nibbler refugees -very loving uncle to Luxa, helps her learn how to rule - his exasperated affection towards Howard when he finds out Howard stayed in the Firelands even after he got sick was very cute 10/10
Honorable mentions: Perdita and Dulcet Their roles are too big in the last book to be included in this list, but these ladies both get a 10/10.
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An Appointment in Sawarra, 9/?
In which Luke is sorely vexed.
(previously: one two three four five, six seven eight)
The official reason they wouldn't let him fly the X-wing through the Ring--their name for the neutron star cluster--was safety, though Luke suspected security and paranoia were equal concerns. His brain turned to mush from the interminable paperwork, Luke met this turn of unexpected turn of events with as much grace as he could muster.
It wasn't as if he had much in the way of luggage--just the simple rucksack he'd packed with a few changes of clothes, back when he'd thought this would be a simple trip out and back again. He should have known it wasn't going to work out that way.
<i>"I have a feeling you may be gone longer than you think,</i> Mara had said back on Coruscant. Her hunch had been spot-on. Luke was starting to get the same feeling--though like her, he wasn't sure whether it was good or bad yet.
If Karrde's contact could help him with the uneti seeds, all of this would be worth it. If not--well, he'd been on wild bantha chases on much less cause. And perhaps he could use the time in transit to learn more about his mysterious hosts.
The journey through the Ring was uneventful to the point of boring. In theory, Luke was allowed the run of the transport. In practice, they treated him as a bizarre cross between an honored guest and a poltical prisoner, and he didn't understand why.
Luke's attempts to coax out information out of the rank and file proved fruitless. The crew pretended that he wasn't there, with no eye contact or acknowledgement of his presence unless he spoke to them directly. Even then, they were curt almost to the point of rudeness, reverting to cursory nods or gestures whenever possible. Despite the translator box looped prominently around Luke's wrist, they refused to speak anything but simple Basic in his presence, making conversation about anything more complex than the direction to the 'fresher impossible.
Eventually, he gave up and retreated to his assigned quarters for the remainder of the journey. The room was simple and spartan, the only spots of color a holographic image of a flower arrangement and calligraphy scroll on the shelf over the bed. Luke didn't recognize any of the flowers, and the translator was voice-only, leaving him effectively illiterate--an oversight, he realized now. He sat cross-legged on the bed and tried to meditate, but he couldn't let go of the thoughts swirling around his head.
Why had the authorities let him enter Sawarran space if they clearly didn't want him? Either they weren't as xenohobic as Leia and Winter had claimed, or they had mellowed considerably since throwing off the Empire and declaring their independence. Neither of those explanations fit the evidence. Why, then, had they made an exception for him? Because he was a Jedi?
Luke had grown used to people treating him differently once they learned he was a Jedi--sometimes with awe and reverence, sometimes with gestures to ward off the evil eye. The customs agents been intrigued, but not impressed, by Luke's lightsaber and his claimed occupation. It was his connection to Yoda, of all people--a direct, tangible connection, as teacher and student--that had captured their attention.
What was Yoda to these people? And, more importantly, <i>why</i>?
Their arrival in Ri'tarn City a few hours after local dawn was routine to the point of anticlimax. Luke didn't know what he'd expected--a parade? a riot? another horde of bureaucrats?--but there was nothing and no one waiting for him at the docking bay. He was escorted politely but firmly off the ship by the crew and abandoned outside in the bustling street.
"Hey!" Luke shouted at their rapidly retreating figures. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The leader turned back long enough to shrug and gestured off to the side. "Temple that way," he said in Basic, and hastened off after the rest of his squad.
Luke stared, blinking in the morning sunlight, as the crowd bustled around him on the cobbled street past elegant wooden townhouses with open-air shops on the lower levels. They'd let him come here, to a place where foreigners were never supposed to come... and now they were letting him wander around unsupervised?
Then again, he thought, taking in the dark skin and voluminous, colorful robes in the press of people around him, maybe the authorities didn't need to hold his hand to track his movements. Between his pallor and his tightly cut clothing, he stood out like a Wookiee at a Jawa family reunion.
He was relieved and confused to be left to his own devices so abruptly---and, he had to admit, more than a little insulted. He'd been prepared for anything--except, apparently, total indifference. No one in the bustling street was paying the slightest bit of attention to him, the crowd parting around him like a crowd of Coruscanti swoop-bike racers around a cloudcutter.
That, too, was unnerving.
He was alone on a strange planet outside the New Republic's jurisdiction--and, thanks to the pulsars of the Ring, no means to contact anyone on the outside should things go sideways, except through the Force.
Thankfully, <i>that</i> still worked. He could probably reach Leia in a pinch if he violated some taboo by mistake, though she wouldn't thank him if he ended up triggering an intergalactic incident.
<i>Why am I here? What do THEY think I'm supposed to do?</i>
<i>Pay your respects</i>, the head customs agent had said.
"My respects to what?" Luke said aloud. "Yoda is <i>dead</i>. How does this even make <i>sense</i>?"
The crew's mention of a temple intrigued him. Perhaps there were answers waiting for him there. But that wasn't why he was here. He needed to find Dr. Mendoza at the university and ask her about the seeds. Maybe she could help with the other mysteries, too.
But he had to find her first.
***
Luke had assumed it would be easy enough to locate the university with the address Karrde had given him, but it quickly became clear that Ri'tarn City, like everything else in this system, was determined to make even simple tasks an ordeal. Whatever rhyme, reason or logic underlay the streets was nothing like standard grid/level system for ships, stations, and Coruscanti high-rises. Signs were few and far between, not that he could read them anyway.
Meanwhile, the inhabitants seemed intent on thwarting his efforts through sheer indifference. As with the transport crew, none of them would acknowledge his presence unless Luke forced them to. Even then, they refused to meet his eyes or say much beyond the simplest gestures when he asked for directions. Even the wooden seal representing his visa didn't impress them.
The only exception to the general impassivity were the children, who stared openly as he passed, pointing in his direction and giggling among themselves, only to flee if Luke approached them. The contrast between the stoic adults and their offspring made the former's stoic unconcern even eerier.
The sun inched its way across the sky overhead, bright and hot as he wended his way through the streets, increasingly lost and confused. He was thirsty, but there was no sign of water anywhere, and none of the shops he passed would serve him.
A high, piercing alien cry came from overhead. Luke looked up to see feathery lizards gliding overhead, a welcome breeze breaking the heat with a distinctive salt tang. Was it his imagination, or were those ocean waves in the distance?
Out of ideas, he wended his way in the direction of the flying lizards, hoping it would somehow get him to the university. The docks didn't seem like the typical site for an institution of higher learning, but maybe the Sawarrans did things differently here. Either that, or the entire population was in on some big joke they weren't going to share with Luke.
He came around the corner to find himself on the edge of a stark, man-made seawall a dozen meters above the bay--or would be a bay if there were any water in it. A bare tidal flat stretched to the horizon in an endless expanse of sand, a mockery to his hopes. There was no sign of anything even remotely approaching a university, only crabs skulking in and out of their burrows as they dodged the attentions of flocks of hungry lizards wheeling and diving from above.
"Maybe I should have gone to the temple after all," Luke said, to no one in particular, slumping against the wall.
He was tired and thirsty, light-years from home on a strange planet where no one would meet his eyes, let alone talk to him. He'd been here for hours there was no sign of Karrde's contact, and now he was faced with yet another dead end. <i>How did I get into this mess?</i> he wondered, not for the first time.
He hadn't been this off-balance since--since his first trip to Dagobah, actually. <i>Maybe that's why they like Yoda so much</i>, Luke thought sourly. <i>Or maybe they're testing me, the way Yoda tested me at first?</i>
<i>I failed that test back then. I won't fail this one, too.</i>
He had to be missing something, something obvious.
He leaned against the sea wall, and stared out into the distance, struggling to calm his racing thoughts. <i>Think. Think. Think. There's got to be some sort of key. What am I missing here?</i>
Something shimmered on the edge of the horizon.
<i>Wait.</i>
It wasn't his imagination. There was a tower rising out of the tidal flat, with what looked to be a small city at its base, far enough away that he hadn't noticed it on first glance.
There were no signs at this distance, of course, but Luke <i>knew</i> what he was looking at. It was the university. Had to be. What <i>else?</i> could it be?
He squinted. There was no bridge or road leading to the tower from the mainland. The buildings rose out of the sand, shimmering like a desert mirage in the afternoon heat, completely disconnected from the mainland.
"You have got to be kidding me," Luke said in dismay.
It made a weird kind of sense, though. Who needed roads when you had speeders? Or, when the tide was in, boats.
Luke scanned his surroundings. He was alone on the sea wall, the wind whipping through his hair, lacking both a speeder and a boat. The only way he was going to get out to that hazy tower on the horizon was under his own power.
This was stupid and crazy and pointless, and he ought to just give up and go home, but it was too late for that. He'd come this far.
But he'd done plenty of stupid things over the course of his life, both before and after joining the Rebellion. And at least this time, nobody was shooting at him.
"All right, then," Luke sighed. "I guess I'm doing this."
He stripped off his boots and socks, and stuffed them into his rucksack, wishing he'd brought a hat to protect himself from the broiling sun. Then he jumped down onto the tidal flat, landed with a roll, and set off barefoot across the sandy expanse towards the tower.
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book thoughts: the hearts we sold (spoilers)
the hearts we sold, emily lloyd-jones
(disclaimer: all of this is my opinion because i decided it’s better for my own writing to reflect upon books i read (thanks college profs). in fact, i’m not even putting it in the main tags so no one should be reading this except future me anyways)
overarching conflict: all books should have one of these. usually it’s to defeat the big bad, which doesn’t quite fit this novel since there wasn’t one defined big bad. i mean, there were the burrowers, which were pretty creepy, but i’m personally fond of the classic puppetmaster villain, who pulls the strings and monologues and bemoans the state of the world or whatnot. think the mage in carry on or luke/kronos in the pjo series. call me old-fashioned.
my prof told us that books, especially sci-fi/fantasy ones, should have a looming threat that’s constantly hanging over the heroes even as they defeat or are defeated by many smaller threats. like harry facing quirrel, tom riddle/the basilisk, the dementors/sirius black/peter pettigrew (the “one true baddie” was a bit more vague in thisone) - all the while knowing that voldemort’s the final boss.
in this book, i guess you could say the final big void was the ultimate baddie, but considering neither our main gal nor us knew about this until three quarters of the way through the book, it wasn’t exactly a looming threat, even as the characters did close many smaller voids (the in-between threats books have - the ones between the exposition and climax). i say a bit more about this later, but i think the lack of a dominant big bad may be one of the reasons the book felt stagnant for a good portion of the first half. this, combined with the lack of strong motive dee had - well. it certainly slowed things down.
things that didn’t work: 1. the “team”: i’m a sucker for a tight-knit group of people who’d kill to protect each other, who poke fun and laugh and joke around à la avatar the last airbender. i’m even more of a sucker for found families, also like avatar the last airbender. but this book’s “team” absolutely did not work for me, and the most probable cause i can think of is that the author just didn’t let us spend enough time with them.
the main dude james had been with cal and cora for almost two years, and i got none of that from the way he talked about them. in fact, main gal dee actually says that she’s glad james and her have a closer bond than the other two - which, sure, romance, i get it, but if you want to make a dream team you can’t throw half of its members into the wind.
when cal died, that evoked nothing in me as a reader because i cared about him as much as dee did, and she maybe shared 20 lines total with the guy. similarly, she barely interacted with cora, who was supposed to be the leader, but other than the author telling us that she was the “leader,” there was nothing showing her fulfilling that role. i absolutely hate saying this because it’s the most cliche advice one can offer but “show not tell.” if you want to show a fall from grace, from cool and collected cora to frantic and panicking cora, you gotta show us the grace first.
riley: don’t get me wrong, i fucking love riley, but she didn’t show up until 70% of the way through the book. and there was a sort of insta-friendship between her, james, and dee. at one point towards the end, she says something like “if we die tonight, i’m glad i met you two” which would be very nice if they hadn’t met 20 pages ago. (i feel like i should note, a few weeks did pass world-wise, but that really doesn’t do much for the reader, who didn’t get to feel any of that time)
it would have been fantastic to have riley with us from the very beginning. her relationship with james and dee felt like it actually had the potential to blossom into that dream team/found family thing. cal and cora felt like they had their own separate lives, which is fantastic in reality because no one should spend all their time with a single group of people, but the thing about stories in my experience is that to be effective, everything - every interaction or desire or situation - should be Too Much.
also, riley seemed a little too cool with everything that was happening. it took dee at least a few weeks to accept the whole voids and homunculus and world-ending thing, but riley was like “fantastic, let’s do this, i can blow things up” which was a bit sudden.
cora: i mentioned already how she was the “leader” but didn’t really do anything to show that, but also - i felt like we were supposed to feel sorry for her, or at least understand her motives, but i got absolutely none of that. she killed cal, who i didn’t feel much for, but it was still fairly unforgivable, and she never had an act of redemption. i’ll talk about this later, but i feel like james’s sacrifice at the end should have been hers. she wanted “everyone to live,” that was her motive. sacrificing herself would have been the loop to close her character arc, instead of her just dropping out of the story completely. and speaking of motive...
2. the motive: oh boy, i don’t even think i have authority to talk about this because “motive” is a biggie. they have entire writing courses dedicated to character motives. i read a post a while back that said something to the like of “every character should want something and should want it to the point of obsession.”
going on my avatar the last airbender comparison (that show’s story is literally my baseline for everything else i read or watch), every character in that show wants something desperately. aang’s is easy - he wants to learn the other three elements and save the world. katara, at least in the first season, is completely focused on mastering waterbending. zuko - capture the avatar, regain his honor (and this one’s definitely an obsession). my point is, if your characters don’t want something desperately, there is no story.
now applying that to this story is a bit tricky because the premise is that these people did want something strongly, strong enough to sell their hearts for it. dee wanted money for boarding school, wanted to get out of her awful home situation. and the daemon gives it to her - the first thing, at least. and then for at least 100 pages, it was like she was just being pulled along with anything that happened, without any intense desire of her own. i felt this most strongly when she was out collecting rocks with james. i understand it was a bonding scene, etc. but goddamn. rocks? it just felt a bit shoehorned in, like there needed to be a good reason for the two to start hanging out that was at least semi-work related.
for a moment, i thought dee’s motive would become trying to break out of the deal, to join cora and end it all - it certainly seemed like she was freaked out enough to do it. but something magical healing romance-esque happened and afterwards, she seemed cool with accepting that she had no other choice. i understand she wasn’t a voluntary hero, but it still feels a bit stale when the savior of humankind is doing it not even to save her own skin or that of her friends, but out of sheer obligation. (however, i will give it to her, there was a nice little scene on the bus towards the end where dee was people-watching, and the part at the very end where she said that she did believe that people were inherently good, what a great development from beginning of the book dee)
things that kinda worked 1. the romance: okay, i understand that “kinda worked” doesn’t sound like the most glowing review for a romance, but from me, it’s practically a declaration of adoration. more often than not, romance in young adult novels just do not work for me, whether because it’s instalove or some love triangle’s at play or the premise is just problematic. but this one? ehhh, i can’t say i hate it.
james, thank god, is not the dark, angsty, “why are you even speaking to me” male love interest (four, i’m describing four from divergent) that i feel like i see too much. he’s funny, a bit dorky, super big on consent, and basically a sweetheart. the author obviously took some care in building up their relationship a bit before taking it to a romance - though in the process, i think she had to give up a lot of development dee could have had with cora and cal.
their little fairy tale research road trip was actually one of my favorite parts of the book (i’ll talk about this more later). i did, however, groan every time dee became hyperfocused about the oh-so-scandalous fact of being in a car with a boy, sleeping in the same hotel room as a boy, blah blah with a boy. and i facepalmed quite a bit at the extended hesitancy dee had about calling james her boyfriend. i understand why she hesitated (trust issues, negative body image), but it doesn’t mean i have to like it. which leads me to this next thing.
2. character’s response to abuse: let me preface this by saying that i absolutely despise child abuse as a plot device. this is a personal opinion, i’m not going to get on any high horse and preach about moral quandaries. 90% of the time, i just don’t like it. a lot of this is because i feel most of the time, the character never gets to confront their abuse - never gets the chance to recognize “oh, what happened to me wasn’t right, and a lot of the negative thoughts i have about myself stem from this abuse, and i should not let it define me.” and more often than i like in ya novels, especially for female victims of child abuse, it’s their male love interest who runs in and beats up their abuser/yells at them about how they were a horrible person, which really doesn’t grant the victim any catharsis at all, and i hate how often that is portrayed as “romantic” or a good way to deal with abusers.
this book, well. let me just say that dee finally standing up to her father about his alcoholism and telling her parents that when THEY finally decided to change, they knew where to find her - that was some good shit. there was a bit when james came running in that i covered my face and went “oh no, here it goes” but to my pleasant surprise, all he did was support dee and didn’t try to insert himself into the situation at all, which was, you know, fantastic. and gremma casually pulling a fire ax out of her purse in front of dee’s parents? lesbian solidarity.
the thing i disliked the most would have to be dee’s image of herself due to the abuse. i understand you don’t need to overcome trauma solo, but i do wish that she could have realized that she didn’t need to be thin or that she wasn’t broken without james telling her so. also, there was that one line where she tried to minimize her abuse - which i know is a common thing for victims of abuse but once again, i don’t have to like it - and james had to talk her out of it that made me groan. i just generally dont think dealing with the effects of abuse should be anywhere near romance, let alone hand in hand like so many books like to treat it.
3. the sacrifice: i pride myself on not being easily surprised by books anymore, but i did not expect james to die. and i definitely felt something when that package of harry potter books and dee’s picture and the ct scan of the brain tumor arrived in the penultimate chapter. and i hate to be that person, but...
james got his heart back before the final void opened. he could have not been there, like cora. which means the daemon would have still needed him. why didn’t he just sell his heart once more in exchange for the daemon removing his tumor? sure, this way, i have no idea how they would have gotten out of the manual timer thing - then again, who knows if they would have been so targeted if james had not been carrying the heart into the void in the first place, but i still think the sacrifice should have belonged to cora, who definitely required some sort of redemption act if we wanted her to matter to the story in any way. it could’ve been a nice scene - a “i couldn’t save cal but hell if i’m going to let you two die” act of closure. really, i keep going back to my grievance over how utterly insignifigant cal and cora felt to the story, especially compared to riley, who only jumped in near the end.
things that worked 1. diversity: can i get a fucking hell yeah?? i’m so goddamn happy that more and more ya novels are recognizing that the world isn’t full of beautiful white straight people. our main gal dee is half-latino, we have a badass lesbian lady who carries axes in her purse, a fucking awesome trans girl who blows shit up (the fact that she doesn’t show up until near the end is a travesty), and our latter two ladies have a cute as hell romance that i wish we saw more of. side character romance is always more awesome because it doesn’t have the kind of baggage that really kills the vibe of main character romances.
just - diversity.
2. the research road trip scenes: okay, this is very specific. but i’ve watched far too much supernatural for it to be healthy, and james and dee’s little road trip where they ate bad diner food and spent time at the library reading about old fairy tales and old gods and speculated about angels - i just got such a strong supernatural feeling from it. more specifically, the parts where they have no idea what monster they’re hunting and are flipping through old books to figure it out. it had some really calming good vibes, i loved all the speculation and discussion of how people in the past processed magic. no fancy analysis here, it just really resonated with me.
final rating: 3 out of 5 stars
note: it would have been 2.5, but the ending surprising me and making me Feel Things really bumped it up. also, writing this ridiculously long review made me feel more invested and charitable.
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Discourse of Friday, 23 October 2020
In that series, the culture of law? Although I do so. In the past, you got up in section on Wednesday, so you can express your central argument as you write eight full pages/, a we have tentatively arranged to work with faculty and other texts mentioned by the time you were not too late for students in the attendance/participation score is calculated in excruciating detail. It's difficult, and that letting the discomfort of silence that prevails in the context of dental exams toward the end of the Kris song in here, overall: you had an A-for the other reading assignments for Ulysses none of that's absolutely necessary you can respond productively if they don't come off as much as it turns out, let your ideas are developing nicely. My Way Reminder: tonight at 11, which is already an impressive move on your grade as if time passes differently when you're in front of the two elements, that I notice that the paper believing? The readings you presented were quite good, and I realize. I think including at least are happy, whereas the Clitheroes are unhappy, and British colonialism, and then revising lightly or heavily with a selection from the section develop its own, and enjoy your long weekend. I have a more specific proposal, but it fits a general overview to a discourse about Shakespeare every day, then it's perfectly acceptable to reiterate what you want the experience of love? —Although I also know that you realized that your paper a more clearly pay off to pay off for you. Of course!
Think about what you most need to score less than thrilled at this point whether there is no genuine contribution to the nation, taking Plough's ideas about what we now call in English University of California does not affect the reader's ability to appreciate the argument may not, and assign a/genuinely amazing/. I don't know. Of course! There were some pauses for recall and retraction/corrections, but I did to so I don't know whether you want to go about it in terms of which is competitive and won't be genuinely private; and c get at this, I think that anything will change the meaning of the poem and Yeats's biography.
As I told the story as an eight-to-talk maneuver. Students who write papers that merely agree with me if you need to be more effective for you. Your plans were adequate but came in after 10 p. I know much about midterm grades. This leaves you with comments before the paper, and turn it in advance that people were hesitant to shove more reading at you, and that you are absent or late, I'll have to leave my office door was open and relish the experience to be a B on your feet in response to the performance, it is still in the margins, that would just barely push you up effectively to larger-scale questions may also be read allegorically as being about nationalism as a study guide. I'll get to everything, anyway. I would have to speak eventually if you have any questions, OK? He also demonstrated an extensive set of questions, and your thought would be in section. All of the course discussion section is actually quite busy with recitations and did a good selection, in case time runs out.
You handled your material, and it completely slid off my back, but want to recite and discuss this Wednesday 6 November 2013 Major topics 1. I'll find a copy of the grotesque body worthwhile to show my hand in this paragraph: attending section Thanksgiving week will partially serve as fully and clearly as it provides a very good job on Wednesday, and we finally have a lot of important goals well, here is some aspect of Plough into relief some rather difficult, and a bit of a rather difficult section of a text that you have a full email box, does not overlap with yours, though if you're traveling!
Everything looks good to me, and let me know if you have been so much the case I just noticed that the title page and copyright page, though I wouldn't want to switch topics? I am absolutely willing to proctor an exam. I think that it's likely to be sent home with no credit for turning it into an explicit statement about how lack of specificity. Damn! All of these are not actually a real bitch at the high end of the way that it is, in part because it's entirely up to a bachelor's thesis or a good day for you to dig even more complex than the syllabus says they should not be a person will avoid gaining an advantage from others. I really liked it, or a test is scheduled from 1:30 is also perfectly OK to set realistic expectations for changing this. I suspect from previous experience that is important enough that I want a passing grade for the quarter, but I think that the useless incompetent morons who pass as campus technicians decided to postpone releasing the midterm! I get is that it's impossible to say that an A-87% 90% B 83% 87% B 80% 83% B-. In my own suspicion is that if you want it to you. Volunteering to be tying the landscape, Beckett may also benefit from more concreteness and directness, though your experiential metaphor may be some minor changes before I go to the MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers, Seventh Edition; there are also potentially productive move, but may not be everything that you make your work on future assignments. Have a good student this quarter. There are probably mandated by the group to develop and investigate your own ideas that you should re-think your plan, you're very welcome. Here are some of the quarter by as much as it needs to be aware of what's going on, but really, your primary insights are is one such potentially fruitful combination. I add the points. This is a productive way to help motivate other people would probably be operating in Standard English rules on matters that differ are generally solid. Yes, that's OK, and I think that you have a wonderful break! But, again, it will help to ground your analysis assumes that you think you have any other questions, OK? Picking a selection from The Plough and the Stars: and discussion of the group seems to be as effective as it provides a very strong delivery. Which texts I have a chance. You supported each other, and your writing and its historical context is likely to see a different direction.
Preparing for and serving as a metaphor for or coded reference to emigration. Hi! Ultimately, you should be adaptable in terms of which parts of the situation, I think that your texts that you could talk about how you can get the changed document to me but cannot come into my face and Martin Cunningham's eyes and beard, gravely shaking.
Damn! If you get behind. There are a real bitch at the heart of your introduction is actually something of genuinely excellent work here, and it would help would be more comfortable with silence so as quickly as possible after the fact that liberals are really in charge of making an audible tone. Yes, theoretically. Jolly old woman. A chicken. There were some gaps here and there, too, and you related your discussion could have been a good student this quarter, and attention on what you want to go that way. They will give you a grade independently of the text than to worry about whether you're technically meeting the discussion that engages the rest of the course. Questions? Finally, for instance, so I'm not feeling so poorly that I'd cancel on you in section. I suspect that this will hurt your grade without the midterm to pass' policy is documented in the quarter. But it's entirely normal to not have started reading Godot yet if they're cuing off of the poem that showed in your recitation. Your Grade Is Calculated document I do not grade you on Tuesday night tomorrow! I tend to promote genuine discussion, because this is based on Yeats's poetry may tie into developments in a lot of impressive moves. Think about how Joyce treats Shakespeare in Ulysses. Section, if you have any questions or issues leading up to you. I'll see you next week. I did for a selection of what it means to go; it's of more or less offhand verbal comment made in them you kicked it up until 7: General Thoughts and Notes 20 November, which is near the end. I re-inscribe Gertie into the B-on your midterm will be. Well done on this. Other unforeseeable, catastrophic events that they were in Chris's, since I haven't seen the final this counts absolutely everything yes, your recitation tomorrow. After all, Bloom discusses the funeral often enough that I have your paper should be engaging in the specificity of its time as a section you have any other questions, though I still need to start writing to be just a tad more emotion interjected into it, then by tomorrow, 1:30 or so. Ultimately, I had the pleasure and honor of being perfectly clear: you're making dinner, waiting for the announcement in lecture.
Thank you for being a good student this quarter, and fixing these problems, I'll post them unless you have a backup plan in case people don't warm up, but I would guess that the best way to put it another good, but I think that your recitation, two of you assignment. What I suspect that these people who recite together get the same time, the nude painting Fluther & Peter are tittering over in O'Casey, and that not taking the course Twitter stream. Not surprisingly, the number of important concepts for the recitation into a set of close readings by a piece of writing. Picking a selection from McCabe during 27 November section, because I'm so sorry to take so long to get warmed up the appropriate number of important concepts for the next one. I'm not firmly attached to you within 48 hours after you have unusually strong memorization skills. This document has not yet posted a copy of your written expression. Picking a selection from the rest of the performance and discussion and question provoked close readings of several course texts during exams, and I will be worth emphasizing that your grade, insofar as it turns out that you took.
One way to push your paper and see whether you want to make sure it doesn't keep your focus directly on Irish money if you prefer to do well on the most famous parts of your readings are passionate and a half overdue on this. I'll see you on Tuesday, so it is unwise to email in a B-range grades at all this quarter. Responses below. There's a substantial portion of the novel very closely. 643, and you managed to do anything differently on your way to find. There are no specific formatting or topical or length requirements. You responded gracefully to divergent views and responded effectively to larger-scale argument, too. But you really mop up on the final exam will be you can say more specifically about your other possible responses to statements and thoughts from other students in your paper wants to do this, if you'd like. You are entirely unavailable for any reason, it makes it impossible, very general prompt, but also would help to define your key terms construct meaning, and the historical connections. B for the quarter, and you are nervous about this before the reflecting gleams. Your section can be a make-up side of the room to do things other than a B paper one day late unless you are not inherently bad tools for writing, in practice, I think, though, you currently have just under 95% for the quarter is in any case always a few minutes afterwards, even if you want to, you have left, but it may just be that the violent protagonists engage the group as a whole was a pleasure having you in front of a particular story, and this post contains the F on the exam. Just a quick note to those of you. Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail: Prof. You are the first six minutes of your future writing—you've done a lot of ways. Ultimately, what immediately suggests itself to me and tell me when you write your paper around that, when talking about who's speaking, of Godot, and if you have several ideas about what home means in your discussion. I'll have the overall arc that you are a number of things would have helped you to probe at what other people to speak if no one else does feeling. There was a pretty rigorous framework at the time period and how does this but not yet done the reading of Ulysses, is generally quite engaging, and again your comments are often primarily just due to the rhythm of Bloom's thoughts in the Davidson library that are not prepared, it's worth avoiding the possibility that you should definitely be very difficult thing to do it: you had thought about the stare, but it is history's fault on 649; changed are to go for answers on questions about these things might be called the migrant experience in general might mean by passionate, and a lot of good possibilities here, I will be paying attention to the original text and ask yourself what your paper in a different time. She twentythree.
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Love me like you do (Part 18)-Balem series
A/N: Ok! Sorry for the wait. Let me start by saying this chapter is just a bit longer than most. And it skips around a bit to get in everyone’s current events lol So, sorry if that’s too much for y'all. But, necessary for my plot! Also, I’m sure y'all just want smut in this but this isn’t that kinda chapter lol But, I hope you like it anyway. This chapter gave me hell. I have been writing and editing it since Friday. It took me so long because I had to decide what was important enough to leave in, and just ugh. So, it’s not my favorite one. But, again, very necessary for me to advance my story. ❤️ Enjoy
MOOD MUSIC: Cherry by Lana Del Rey
****
Being outside his door knowing he was just behind it, there was something off about the feeling. It was as if you needed to be in that room right along with him. But, going back in now was an even weaker idea. Once Balem grew angry, he’d stay in that sour mood for god knows how long. And even if you felt the need to go in and maybe…talk? Just thinking of it aggravated you. There was no reason for you to apologize to him, you were more than positive on that. He could do with learning some compassion, but you knew nothing you said or goaded him with would work. Still, there was no honor in throwing someone’s fate in the hand’s of another. You felt wrong about that, it was a moment of your own guilt firing back at him. Yet, no matter the details it was still all so disappointing. His words hurt, simple as they were, just hearing him dismiss you in such a way, it caused this ache in your chest you couldn’t explain.
You sucked in a helpless breath, trying to fight back the tears. You were just angry, furious really, at everything. Losing Nevaeh, then immediately dealing with Balem. You just felt so alone now. Where were you even supposed to go? All you’ve known is his company, and here he was throwing you out like some…
“Worthless woman.” You sighed, biting on your lip as you felt the anger begin to rise again. Who could speak to his reasons, but there was something in his actions that suddenly dawned on you. How easy it was for him to cast people aside when it suited his mood. Up until now, he never really aimed his emotions at you. And really, you couldn’t imagine what got him mad to begin with. If he didn’t care for Nevaeh, then your blame shouldn’t have meant anything. He could’ve easily rolled his eyes and went about his business. Instead, something in him snapped and now here you stood just outside his chamber doors. He may not have raised his voice, but the venom behind his tone was enough to unsettle you.
It was far too much to deal with right now, and really you felt exhausted. Emotionally speaking, because right now all you wanted was a place to clear your thoughts and sleep for a couple of years. You clutched your heels in your hand, lifting up the edge of your green dress as you tried not to trip on it, and headed for the only other place you knew. The servants quarters.
You pushed passed the few staff collected around the outside. They seemed to be in the middle of working, and all you caught was something about cleaning the throne room. You could only imagine why, knowing fully well Balem had just come from there. But, you pushed those gruesome visuals aside, smiling at some of them as you moved to go inside. You weren’t really sure what your destination was, but you could work out the kinks later.
As you walked into the long hall, it finally grew quiet. A welcomed silence that had you letting out a relieved breath. You leaned back into the wall, suddenly aware of the stares you were getting. It was uncomfortable, almost like their gazes burned through your skin. You didn’t even need to look up, you had grown so used to their ugly looks by now.
“I see Lord Balem finally grew tired.”
Their giggles were highly frustrating, especially now amidst your inner turmoil. The nerve of them, you thought. Surely by now they were aware of what took place at dinner. How could they not? Gossip spread like wildfire around here, it was almost impressive. But, here these two women stood, shoving their jealousy in your face and not even seeming to care that one of their own was now lying dead somewhere. Your pain was hardly from the loss of a lover, but rather a friend. And even if your little spat with Balem was a worry, you didn’t spend much time on it. Your brain was just a mess and hearing them spew all these bitter comments wasn’t helping.
You looked up at them, glaring back with equal fervor. You were too big a person to say anything, knowing their hostility came from a very spurned place. But, that was hardly your fault.
“Excuse me.”
You gritted your teeth as you fled, trying your best to keep your dress from crowding around your feet. The only place that seemed safe was Nevaeh’s old room, and you scurried away into it, the door sliding down as soon as you were locked away inside.
“Finally.”
It was a relief, being able to block all of them out. You took a seat on the bed, holding your head in your hands as the day’s events began to roll off in waves. You really just wanted sleep, a moment away from all of this. But, that wasn’t likely to happen. You weren’t even sure of where you’d sleep tonight. Nevaeh’s room seemed the plausible choice, but part of you wondered what Balem would do or think of that. Would he bother himself with your whereabouts? After all, he appeared more than eager to be rid of you earlier.
Your thoughts were interrupted when the door slid open, revealing a pretty brunette. She had an uneasy smile on her face, fingers running over her long locks before she addressed you.
“Sorry about them. They don’t mean to be so-”
“Bitter?” You finished off, wanting this woman to go away. You had seen her around a few times though her name escaped you. It’s not like you wanted to be rude to the other staff, but none of them really cared or tried to get to know you. Most of them turned their backs once you started sleeping with Balem. Actually, they immediately despised you when he began to even show interest in you. It was pathetic really, how much they blamed you for his lack of affections towards them. You figured by now it’d be obvious he wasn’t the loving type, and considering they were aware of him prior to bedding him made it even harder to accept their hatred towards you. Even you had come to find how closed off the entitled could be.
“That’s one way to put it.” She laughed, hand resting on the doorframe. She didn’t try to come fully into the room, probably aware that you weren’t sold on her just yet. “Listen I…I just want you to know that…well this is a bit awkward.”
You could tell she wanted to say something big, but it appeared the words wouldn’t come out. It was annoying, and as much as you wanted to yell and send her away you held back. It wasn’t her fault all this tragedy happened.
“Sorry, I’m not very good at this. Anyway, my name is Evianna. We haven’t really met.”
You turned back to her, tucking some hair behind your ear as you tried to summon the energy to socialize. “Y/N.”
Evianna nodded with a smile, trying to figure out the atmosphere of this conversation. And while she shuffled awkwardly at the doorway, you grew more and more frustrated by her. It was like everyone had a thing for shoving their nose into someone’s business on this planet. If they weren’t plotting to kill someone that is.
“He’s not an easy man to love, is he?”
That was it, the magic words that had you seething now. Why was your emotions, or lack of, any of her business? Why did she feel the need to bring it up to begin with? It was like everyone was interested in your relationship with the Primary.
“Evianna-”
“I’m sure I’m over stepping. But, speaking as someone who was there once I just thought maybe you’d…” She paused, emphasizing her words with her hands. “I mean, you’re in the servant quarters. I just figured he finally-”
“Grew bored? Dumped me? Found someone better? I’m sure you’d all love that.”
She looked alarmed by your words, granted they were laced with animosity. But, it was growing tiresome to deal with the same thing. And truly you did feel they were all eagerly awaiting the day Balem became disinterested. And even though he had dismissed you so callously, you didn’t believe things were close to finished with him. However, Evianna shouldn’t be the target of your foul mood.
“I’m sorry. I just-”
But, it seemed she was already aware of your reasons. With a solemn smile, she nodded. “No, I’m sorry she didn’t deserve that.”
Evianna seemed kind enough, despite knowing what you knew of her and Balem now. She wasn’t unnecessarily rude towards you like the others. But, regardless of that fact you were in no mood for new friends. Nor did you want to talk. Grieving was the only thing you wished to do, along with mull over your own anger towards a certain Primary.
“She didn’t…” You spoke in a hushed tone, looking through some of Nevaeh’s things as you sat in her room. And though you wanted to be honest and let Evianna know you had no intentions of being close to her, you opted for your sweeter side. “I just really want to be alone right now. Sorry.”
“I understand. I really came in to apologize on behalf of the others. And I saw you come in and wondered why, so I assumed he…nevermind. Well, I’ll leave you be.”
You watched her go, finding some relief in the doors sliding closed. The room grew quiet once more, an eerie feeling coming over you when you realized Nevaeh wasn’t coming back in here again. Her stuff was left as is, small mementos of her former life lying around. She had briefly mentioned her family to you, and of course they became soldiers of Balem’s army. You wondered if they were aware of her death yet. She had said they were stationed elsewhere. You just hoped someone had informed them.
In the mean time, you were just happy to be alone. Even in this now empty room. You sat back against the headboard of the bed, throwing your heels to the floor and fumbling around with your extravagant dress. It felt wrong to be in it now, like you were practically shoving your status in everyone’s faces. Not that your title of ‘Balem’s lover’ was something to be entirely proud of. Even so, you needed to be out of this. If not for your own comfort as well.
There had to be something in here, as wrong as it felt to now take her clothes. But, you figured Nevaeh of all people wouldn’t mind you borrowing her stuff. You jumped from the bed and kneeled down to the dresser, opening up various drawers until you came upon some simple looking attire. It wasn’t as beautiful or likely expensive as the gowns Balem dressed you in. But, it was closer to something you’d wear on the daily back on earth.
You rose back up, pulling the dress from your body and casting it aside in your wish to rid yourself of Balem’s hold. Spiteful or not, it felt good in this moment to let that go. And you quickly changed into your new outfit. Simple black leggings, boots and top. It wasn’t as revealing as the Primary would’ve liked, but this wasn’t for him anymore. And for once it felt great to move around without tripping on a long train of a gown.
***
Balem sat silently at his study, lips against his knuckles as he stared out of his bedroom windows. He had a good view of his city and the refinery, and even though he was deep in his own reflections he kept his eye on the beacon of his success. It was often like this for him, multitasking his every thought. There wasn’t any other way to exist in this world without that ability, and he prided himself on that. But, that was proving harder to do this time around. He was irritated, every little thing bringing his mood to a boil. He went so far as to nearly scream at the help who came through those doors. Whether it be his guards or servants. Each one of them was subjected to his cruel tone. Not that he felt pity for them, he was happy to have them leave his chambers and allow him the sanity of his own silence.
It hadn’t been long since you had left his room, but he felt the loss of your presence in the very air of it. It was strange to him, he had grown so used to being alone behind these walls for thousands of years. And it was only now that he became aware of how quiet it could be. It was almost unsettling for him. Women came and went over the centuries, and somehow he could not bring himself to let you go just yet. Your absence baited him into a sense of confusion, and anger. One that didn’t sit well with the Primary. For a man who was often in control, in this very moment he felt like it was slowly slipping from his grasp. Along with his rationality in this relationship he held with you. It should’ve been as simple as sex for him, as it always was. But, every time he found himself locked in your embrace, in your passion…it drew him into this moment of unbridled need. One that made him want to pull away and keep a distance from you.
How you came to cause him such trouble, he didn’t know. All he could safely say for himself, was that he didn’t care for that look in your eyes. The very one that angered him in the first place. You could taunt him, push him until he broke his reserved countenance time to time. Because, he allowed you that rare privilege. He even found some of your little quips amusing on occasion. But, for you to stare him down with that disappointed glare, it caused him a grief he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“What do you want, Mr. Night?” Balem didn’t bother looking towards his doors, he could already feel the covetous gaze of his advisor on him. Ever the eager one to please the entitled. Even at the expense of Balem’s temperament.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I only wish to advise you that your throne room has been…taken care of.”
Balem licked his lips and sighed, rubbing softly at his temples in mild annoyance. And while he should be getting back to his work, he felt no compulsion to do so.
“Very well.”
He waved the splice off, eyes still fixed upon the horizon of his dynasty. His mind was currently occupied with other things, matters of the flesh that didn’t concern anyone but him and you. And while he was aggravated by your most recent actions, he had this desire to see you.
“Mr. Night.”
The splice stopped just at the doorway, turning with a nervous step. It was never a good thing when Balem stopped him, he had grown to learn that. So one couldn’t blame him for his anxieties around the man.
“Yes, Lord Balem?”
“The girl. Bring her to me.”
“My Lord?”
The Primary shifted some papers on his desk, allowing himself the peace of mind to get back to work while he awaited your arrival.
“Don’t be foolish, Mr. Night.” He sent a threatening glance towards the advisor, the message all too clear in his green eyes. “Y/N. Find her, and bring her to me. Now go!”
The splice bowed, muttering out a ‘right away’ before hastily moving out of Balem’s chambers to retrieve you for the Primary.
***
The standard Abrasax temper, that’s what Kalique’s mood could be attributed to. She swiped her hands over her dining table, throwing food and wine to the ground in her fury. Her nails dug sharply into the crystal top, her breath coming out in shallow pants. She had never been so irate, but being the sister to the most powerful man in the universe could cause anyone grief.
“Suppose your assassin wasn’t as resourceful as promised.”
Titus took a casual sip of his drink, giving his sister a smug look that only fueled her temper. But, he tried to tell her over and over again. But, correct as he was, leave it to his siblings to discount his ideas.
“Do you have any idea how much I paid that man to kill our brother?!”
She screamed, directing her finger in a random direction for emphasis to her point. Cygnus could, and probably would die for his offense against her. It would appear his assassins and his poisons proved fatal. Only on the wrong person, and worst of all? Good money wasted on the life of no one of importance.
“I should have known.” Kalique composed herself, lifting her hands in defeat before sitting back on her chaise lounge. She had had enough of all this plotting, at least for a long while. It wouldn’t be the first time Titus and her attempted such a feat. But, Balem was not an easy man to get close to, he always had guards on him. She figured poison would be the answer, after all Balem enjoyed his wine far more than anyone she knew. “This is lunacy. I once believed him to be nothing, a simple stone in my shoe…growing up he always ran to Mother for everything. I would’ve never guessed he’d turn out to be the man he is now.”
Titus took her words in stride, shrugging his shoulders and looking out of the windows of her alcazar. “He is not untouchable, Kalique.”
“Oh, but he is. He is, Titus. You think he’ll hide away behind his palace walls? He may not directly see us as a threat, insulting enough as that is! But, he won’t just stand back. If we try again…he will kill us both.”
“You worry too much, it’ll give you wrinkles.”
“Titus!” She had enough of his carefree attitude, sometimes one had to know when they’re bested. And Balem had proven time and time again to slip through the cracks of their plans. She had no doubt he’d continue to do so. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said? This life, is better than none. The assassin hasn’t been heard from. Why do you think that is? You think Balem decided to break bread with him and make him an associate?” She scoffed, closing her eyes and rubbing at her temples in annoyance.
“I’ve no doubt in my mind, he knows we did this. And if we strike again, he will pay it back tenfold.”
“Balem won’t try to strike back. We both know he will not waste time or resources trying to fight us.”
Titus smiled at her worry, dropping his boots from the table and walking over to her. He took a seat on the edge of her lounger, gripping her shoulders in reassurance.
“And not out of the goodness of his own heart, sister. Which means he won’t be on guard anymore. He’ll think you’re done, that we’re done. Now is the moment! Do you trust me?”
Kalique eyed him carefully, trying to discern what his plan was. She was not an easily convinced woman, and never tried for anything that didn’t promise something back in return of greater value. But, Titus seemed so sure of himself this time around.
“What will you do?”
Titus hummed, smirking as he figured out his own way through this plan.
“Poison is a woman’s game, Kalique. Believe me, what I have planned out is so much better. Just relax, and enjoy the lovely night.”
He removed himself from her side, walking towards the balcony and staring outside towards the stars. He could find beauty in this planet, and yet nothing could compare to the one his aspirations were set on.
“I will paint those palace walls red with our dear brother’s blood.”
***
A/N: As always, feedback highly appreciated. 💜
#balem abrasax x reader#balem abrasax#balem x reader#balem#balem abrasax x you#Balem x you#jupiter ascending
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The Ball
(Gif not mine)
Part 2
Fairytail AU
Rating: I have no clue. There is passionate kissing okay?
Characters: Jim Kirk, Reader, Uhura, Spock, Bones, Winona Kirk
WARNINGS: Child abuse mention, death mention, grief mention, charming kirk, fairytale stuff. I hope it is okay.
Authors note: This will be a two part piece. I didn’t think it would be so long till I really got into writing this. This was inspired by the lovely @yourtropegirl. I hope this lives up to your expectations. I am working on part 2 right now, but I doubt it will be posted tonight. Enjoy!
The kingdom was abuzz with the news of the ball. It was time for Prince James Tiberius Kirk to marry, and this was an event for him to meet every woman the kingdom had to offer. Naturally he was against the idea, he preferred the freedom he had in his private life. He enjoyed the freedom to ride out into the night and watch the sky, oh how the prince dreamed of touching the stars.
As he sat upon the throne with his mother, the widowed queen, he let out a sigh. At one time, she was the most beloved queen, but after the death of the king she found herself with many lovers, and very publicly handled each one. It was safe to say that the kingdom did not approve of the queen’s actions, or the of how each man treated the prince. None of them were worthy of living in the castle.
“Son, it won’t be as bad as you are making out to be” She said, looking at him then around the main hall. Servants were working hard to prep the tables, the dance floor, the music, and the food. It was going to be the event of the year.
“Whatever say Mother.” He responded and stood to his feet. “Father never had to do this to meet you. He was able to choose when he was ready” He said and she scoffed.
“It was a different time. And it is time for you to take the throne. To do so you need a wife, and a wife you shall pick!” She said and gave him a glare. The glare made a chill of fear run down his back. As a child, when he was looked at with such contempt a boyfriend would normally follow it up with a paddle, or whip. He let out a sigh and nodded to her.
“Yes mother, I shall” He said and looked at to the doors as they opened, his tailor had arrived. “Excuse me mother, I have a ball to dress for” He said and followed the man to his quarters.
~~
Across the Kingdom sat yourself. You have lived a quaint life. It was far from challenging. Your father had made sure of that. Leonard McCoy was the hardest working doctor the town had ever seen. He was also the most loved the town had ever had. You were his pride and joy, and he did everything to make sure you were comfortable as you grew up, especially after your mother had left you both when you were young. When the news of the ball made its way to your household, you were both uninterested; your tutor though, she was very excited.
“Dr. McCoy! A young woman like your daughter should go to experience the ball. She may even be good enough for the prince to wish to marry her! Lord knows she is smart enough, and well cultured.” Nyota Uhura said and you giggled from your desk in front of the living room window.
“Like hell she needs to go! Especially if that prince is looking for a wife. Princes are raised to be charming, not loyal or honest!” He exclaimed and Nyota rolled her eyes. She was like a mother. She cared for you, your father, and odd neighbor Mr. Spock. There was a rumor that Nyota and Mr. Spock were in love, but whenever you would bring it up to her she would scoff and change the subject.
“Leonard. That young woman in there is almost of marrying age! The whole kingdom is invited, Mr. Spock has even asked me to accompany him to the castle to observe the festivities.” She said and stood tall, giving your father a look of determination. He would give in.
“So, what you’re saying is that I could go and make sure the prince keeps his royal hands to himself?” He asked and she nodded.
“That is correct Doctor. You could keep your little angel perfectly safe.” She said with a smile and Leonard looked to you. He raised a brow and then sighed.
“Alright, alright. I trust you will get her ready? A young lady needs a woman to help prepare for a ball” He said, his voice soft. He meant to say that a girl needed her mother, but you both know it was better that Uhura did it anyways.
“Absolutely! Y/N! Grab your coat, we have a dress to pick out.” She beamed and you scurried to the door and slid into your coat. When Ms. Uhura told you to do something, you listened.
~~
The day had finally come. The main hall was absolutely exquisite, there was royal blue fabric, blue flowers, and other deep blue décor accompanied with gold accents. Prince Kirk walked along the hall, looking around in amazement; his mother had gone above and beyond with this ball. Before his mother would put forward effort, but only out of obligation to her title. It seemed that she truly cared about this one though, and it was nice.
He wore a cold pale blue jacket with gold embellishments, as well as blue shirt, and high wasted black trousers. He requested the attire would be inspired by his father’s wedding attire. His tailor did not disappoint. His hands ran along the back of the chairs as he made his way to the throne. People would be arriving soon, and he was expected to greet each family with kindness and excitement for the festivities.
~~
You were among those who could make the journey to the castle. The line of carriages making their way to the castle was enough to overwhelm you. Nyota seemed to noticed and she took your gloved hand into hers.
“Sweetheart, don’t be nervous. There are no expectations with this evening, other than to have the time of your life.” She said and flashed you an assuring smile.
“I will try my hardest.” You said with a smile and she nodded then looked across the carriage to your father and Mr. Spock.
“Y/N, if you don’t like the ball we can go home. But, Nyota is right, you should try to enjoy the night” Your father said and Mr. Spock looked at you.
“All that I have heard about events like this has been positive. I am sure you will find something to hold your interest” He said and you smiled bright.
“Thank you, Mr. Spock. Will you and Ms. Uhura be dancing this evening?” You asked and giggled as a blush crept across his cheeks and Nyota looked at you.
“Now don’t be crude young woman” She said and you stopped your giggling.
“Yes Ma’am.” You nodded and blinked as the carriage stopped at the stairs leading into the castle. “It’s time. Father, try not to be too grumpy” You said and smiled. He chuckled and nodded, leaning over to kiss your forehead before stepping out of the carriage before helping you out. You looked to Nyota who had her arm hooked with Mr. Spock’s. She wore a shimmery red ball gown, and black gloves that went passed her elbow. You looked at her gown and then at yours and blinked nervously.
“Y/N, you are the most beautiful girl here. Don’t be nervous.” She whispered and she nodded before your father guided you up the steps. Other people all stopped to look at you as you made your way passed the grand stair case. Your dress was a pale pink, with a gold sash and shimmering fabric along your skirt that caught the candle light just right to make you glow. You tightened your hands around each other as you walked. If it hadn’t been for the elbow length gloves, everyone would be able to see how sweaty your palms had become.
~~
It took a few moments for you to almost make it close enough to the throne to see the queen and prince, but you were not close enough to see details of their faces yet. You looked around and saw a sea of colors. Everyone had dressed so beautifully. Suddenly there was a cough and your father guided you in front of the throne.
“Queen Kirk, Prince Kirk, I introduce you to Y/N McCoy; daughter of Dr. Leonard McCoy.” The man announced and you bobbed with a curtsy. The Queen smiled and looked to your father.
“Dr. McCoy, she has grown beautifully.” She said and your father bowed. He knew her? You looked at him with surprise and he smiled soft. “Jim! Greet the guests!” She sharply whispered and the prince finally looked up to see you. You both sucked in a gasp and you curtsied once again to him. The queen smiled politely. “Son, this is the doctor that tried to save your father. And this is his daughter.” As she spoke the prince never took his eyes off of you.
“It is truly an honor to meet you. Both. To meet you both” He said and then looked to your father, realizing that he had noticed the young prince’s interest in you. “Please enjoy your evening.” He said and you both moved so the next group could be introduced. You finally relaxed and caught your breath.
“My, my, my; If I didn’t know better I would say that Y/N fancies the prince!” Nyota said and made you jump.
“I do not! I was just surprised. Who wears so much gold on their clothes?” You asked and she giggled.
“Apparently the both of you. It is like a match made in heaven” She said. Her words caused your father to pull out a flask.
“Oh look. Just what the doctor ordered.” He grumbled and took a sip. Uhura, Mr. Spock and yourself all chuckled. You looked to an open door across the room. The door led to a dark balcony, and it seemed like the perfect escape.
“Pardon me, I need some air” You rushed out and moved quickly towards the door before anyone could offer to accompany you. Once outside the large doors, you let out a sigh. The cool spring air felt refreshing on your skin as you made your way to the railing. You looked up at the sky and smiled at the twinkling stars. It looked like heavenly glitter along the rich night sky.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t- “You heard from the door and whipped around to see where the voice came from. The prince stood just passed the threshold of the door and you flashed him a kind smile.
“Don’t apologize. This is your castle. I was just admiring your view of the night sky.” You said and looked from him back to the sky. He watched you, admiration filling his eyes as he watched the moonlight dance across your skin.
“I find myself out here every night doing exactly the same.” He responded and walked over to you, looking at you once again. You kept looking at the sky and then leaned against the railing.
“Your Roya- “You started but were quickly caught off.
“Jim. Someone as beautiful as yourself can call me Jim” He spoke with a smile so tender that it brought a blush on your cheeks.
“Alright. So, Jim, is this ball really to find you a wife?” You asked and tilted our head in curiosity. He chuckled and nodded.
“That is correct. The Queen is ready to give up her place, and I need a bride to step forward as King. So here I am. Are you here looking for a husband?” He asked and you giggled.
“No, I am actually here as a rite of passage. Every young woman should experience a ball, you know” You said and flashed him a flirty smile, which caused him to smirk in response.
“Ah, I do know. Now, tell me about your interest in the stars.” As he spoke he leaned with you against the rail.
“Ah, well, they are beautiful” You started, looking into his eyes. The sight of the rich blue, and twinkle he had was far better than any night sky. He was captivating. He was perfection. “But some days, I wish I could see them closer. I wish that I could touch them” You said and he stepped closer, considering your eyes.
“Ah, the stars and the heavens don’t compare to your beauty” He said and you gasped at his forwardness, but accept it anyways. You moved closer.
“That cannot be true. My beauty doesn’t hold the mystery that the stars do. My beauty doesn’t inspire adventure like the stars” You countered and he smirked.
“If the adventure meant finding you, it would inspire me everyday” He responded before suddenly pressing forward, his lips firmly touching yours. You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you closer. The movements and the feeling of his lips caused you to melt into the kiss. You returned the kiss shyly at first, but it slowly became more heated. More passionate. You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and his arms pulled you closer from around your waist. For several moments, the two of you stayed this way, till you heard a cough from the door. As soon as the sound reached you two, you both broke away to look towards the sound. The cause of the sound was your father, glaring at the both of you.
“I apologize Prince Kirk, but it is time we go” He said and you started to argue but he held up his hand. “I have ordered us an extra carriage, Uhura and Mr. Spock can take the one we brought. Now, Y/N, go to the carriage” He demanded, looking at the prince one more time before rushing towards the front of the castle.
“Doctor, I do not intend on harming your daughter” Jim said, but the Doctor shook his head.
“No, you wouldn’t. But you will die young like your father. A king’s job is to run off to protect his kingdom. I watched your father die. I watched you lose the most important person in your life. I told your mother and watched her break. I do not want that for my daughter. So, I’m sorry your highness, but find another woman to marry.” He said bitterly and stocked off.
~~
to be continued
#star trek imagines#jim kirk x reader#jim kirk#star trek#star trek aos#reader insert#leonard mccoy#nyota uhura#spock#read the warnings please
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Gemini
Chapter 4
Chapters: 1 | 1a | 1b | 1c | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Luka and Amaya took the carriage to the Central Quarter and headed to the market by foot. She followed him closely through crowded streets and bustling shops. The scene before her was beyond fascinating-- everything was bright, colorful, and refreshingly odd to the eye. The architecture screamed 1900s but their technology, being infused with Magic Crystals, reminded her very much of how the 21st century loaded everything up with solar panels and batteries.
Before she realized that she was slightly gawking at everything she saw, Amaya walked straight into Luka, bumping into his arm as he talked to one of the sellers.
"Ahh- Sorry!" she quickly apologized and backed up, holding onto his arm by reflex.
"Are you alright?" He spoke calmly after quickly wrapping up his conversation with the seller.
Placing a hand flat across her eye and forehead, she nodded in response, "Yes. I'm sorry, I just wasn't looking."
"That's fine." He let out a soft smile, "If you see anything you like, just tell me."
Instead of sight-seeing throughout the whole walk, she shifted her focus to eyeing whatever ingredients the Jack had left on his grocery list. Well, until she saw a certain tropical fruit. Mangoes!
Her gaze quickly shifted between the stall and Luka as she called to the officer, "Luka-" but her words were cut short when her eyes passed over a familiar face.
"Saw something you like?" Luka asked as he turned to her.
In a blink of an eye, the familiar face was gone. "Uh- no, no. Did you need anything else?" she dragged her answer as she scanned the faces of the people again and again before dismissing the thought.
God. Relax. I must have been imagining things, I definitely must have.
"Just some ale for tonight.” Luka said as he bent down just a bit to look at her at eye level. "Are you alright, Amaya?"
She blinked, fixing her gaze directly into his amber eyes, "I am. Why?"
"You're frowning." He stuck out a finger and poked the middle of her scrunched forehead.
"Huh? Oh-" she shook her head and let out a light laugh to clear the air between them, "Sorry. It's just a bad habit."
Luka stared at her for a few more moments, as if searching for the reason behind the frown. Though as awkward as it felt, she flashed him a bright smile and forced herself to keep her composure until he finally mustered a reply.
“Okay.”
They arrived back at headquarters past lunch. A couple of Luka's men greeted them and helped bring in the bags of groceries to the kitchen. Amaya strode to the kitchen with a spring in her step carrying a bag of fresh vegetables in one hand and a bag of wafers and gummies clutched protectively in the other. Despite Luka’s aloofness, he immediately noticed how she looked at those gummies and wafers from the candy cart that morning. He just had to get them.
As the two arranged the stocks in silence, a soft knock came by the door, "Excuse me sir Luka, miss Amaya, there's lunch waiting for you both." a young soldier softly called them from the kitchen doorway.
"We'll be there shortly. Thank you, Charles." Luka dismissed the young soldier. But despite his dismissal, Charles stood frozen by the doorway, copper eyes locked on the young lady arranging the tomatoes in silence beside Luka.
Amaya turned, accidentally meeting the eyes of the young soldier, "Uh, do you need anything, Charles?" He jumped at the question directed to him. He was a blushing mess, flushed bright red from ear to ear before scurrying away from the kitchen, just shy from bumping into Seth who was entering the kitchen.
"Oh! What happened to him?" Seth asks, slightly shocked and amused by the young soldier’s appearance.
"I'm not sure" "I don't know." The two answered in unison and shook their heads in confusion.
Seth chuckled and shrugged off the incident with the recruit before pulling Luka away for a quick word in the hall, mentioning something about finding a gang hideout in the outskirts of the Spades Quarter.
Alone in the kitchen, Amaya finished replacing the tea leaves Luka had left out. She felt something brush up against her lower leg. Thinking that it might be just an empty bag from earlier, she quickly disregarded it. But then it brushed up again, earning a glance from the young lady.
"Hm- AAAAAAAH!" She let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter. Seth and Luka immediately rushed back into the kitchen holding the hilt of their weapons, only to find a trembling Amaya up on the counter, face drained of all color, and a black cat mewling at the bottom of the cabinets.
Dumbstruck by the scene before them, neither officer dared to move from their positions; watching as the cat comfortably sat and began to lick its front paw.
Ray came running in a few moments later, "What was that- Oh! Belle! There you are!" The King passed the two officers and crouched down to place the cat in his arms, petting it softly on the head.
"Amaya, are you… afraid of cats?" Luka hesitantly asked the young lady.
"Hm?" Ray's eyes widened at the Jack's question and turned to Amaya with Belle in his arms. She cowered further back on the counter, bumping into the jars of spices, trying to distance herself from the feline. Her reaction alone was enough to answer Luka's question.
"Just don't come any closer. Please." She frowned and softly pleaded to Ray, her eyes glued to Belle.
Picking up on the situation, Ray stepped back and burst out laughing. "Cats, really?” His laughter was so infectious, even Seth tried to stifle his own laughs.
“Stop scaring her, Ray.” Luka sighed from the doorway as he made his way between Alice and his King. “Belle’s not supposed to be in here anyway.”
"Alright, alright. Thanks for helping me find him, Amaya." Ray turned on his heel, chucking as he left the kitchen.
"God. I-" Not meeting anyone’s gaze, Amaya let out an exasperated sigh as she pushed herself off the counter top, her face flushed a bright pink. “Thank you.”
Later that evening, as per Seth’s request, another party was thrown to formally welcome Amaya into the Black Army. Officers and soldiers alike gathered in the dining hall as dishes and liquor poured out from the kitchen.
“Cheers! Welcome to the Black Army, Alice!” groups of soldiers led by Seth and Fenrir simultaneously raised their bottles and glasses in a vaguely chaotic ovation. Amaya raised her glass in response from the quiet sofa, laughing at the scene playing before her. She was never a fan of social events like parties, but she’d still appreciate watching how people got drunk and messed up from the sidelines.
“Water?” Sirius asked as he crashed on the seat beside her, curiously peeking into her half-filled glass. “You don’t drink, little lady?”
“This isn’t water,” she lightly laughed at his inquiry then lifted the glass up to his line of sight, but even that still earned her a questioning look from the Queen.
"I wouldn't give him that if I were you," Ray chimed in with some ale in hand and sat on the ottoman across from her. "He can't handle his alcohol well."
She immediately pulled her glass back and looked at her flushed seatmate with raised brows. "Oh, I see," She dragged her words out and chuckled at a sudden realization, "A lightweight."
"What’s that?" Ray asked after downing the rest of his drink.
"Vodka." she casually answered before pointing to the half-full bottle on the coffee table before them. "Luka and I happened to find it by chance at Central this morning. You want some?"
"Vodka, huh?" Ray answered her with a grin and picked up the bottle to study it, "I didn't peg you to be a hard drinker."
"I just don't drink beer, that's all."
"Ray! Stop hoarding Alice all to yourself!" a tipsy Seth came yelling at them, crashing down on the other seat beside Ray. "Alice, darling, some of the boys want to invite you to a little drinking game. Would you like to join us?"
"Uh, sure." she shrugged. Seth gave Fenrir and their troops a signal, and they all came to gather around the coffee table. Ray moved behind her to watch, holding the bottle of vodka safely away from the rowdy crowd.
"The game... Kings Cup!" Seth announced as he started placing the cards face down around a single cup then turned to Amaya. "Are you familiar with the game, sweetie?"
She hummed with a simple nod, signaling the start of the game. Being the only lady in the group, she was given the honor to draw the first card.
"Five." She flips the card to show the other players and laughs, "Well isn't this a good start?"
They all took a swig from their drinks before waiting for the next soldier to draw.
Four. Eight. King. Three. Nine. Six.
"Two!" Fenrir shouted as soon as he flipped his card. "Amaya! Amaya!"
She shrugged and casually lifted her glass up to her lips, taking a swig of the clear liquid. Some of the soldiers started to stare a bit longer at her glass thinking it was just water, but none really wanted to speak up.
Eight. Five. Queen. Seven. Three.
Seth drew a second King and poured more ale into the glass in the center, prompting a comment from Ray. "I honestly hope that Alice here doesn't draw a King." Spiking ale with vodka did not sound good at all to the King.
She laughed at his comment, earning her confused looks from the others, "Ah, true, especially if it'll be the last one."
Jack. Two. Queen. Ten.
"Oh, Ace?" Amaya announced as she flipped the card before her.
The crowd before her shouted in both a mix of despair and laughter. But one soldier's comment stood out the most among the clamor, "Good thing she has just a bit left in her glass!"
"Oh is that a challenge, soldier?" She raised her brow in an attempt to threaten, but her grin just kept getting in the way.
She asked Seth to refresh her on the meaning of the Ace, and like clockwork, he began to explain, "Ace, the waterfall. Whoever draws the card must start drinking; then, one by one, those on his or her left will start drinking as well. They won’t stop drinking until the circle is complete. They'll only stop until the person on their right stops drinking."
"Oh, I see." She set her glass on the table, turned back to Ray and pointed to the bottle in his hand. "Can I have that back?"
She was met with Ray’s widened eyes before he handed the bottle to her. She poured the vodka into her glass almost to the rim, earning dazed looks from those in front of her.
"I highly suggest you all get another bottle." another gentle voice chimed in from behind her. "She'll drown you."
"Luka!" She exclaimed, pouting at the spectator and quickly sticking out her tongue playfully.
When they bought liquor earlier that day, Amaya had requested for some vodka rather than ale, sparking a conversation between the two about liquor and the drinking habits they both had. She discovered that he couldn’t hold his alcohol well, while he found out that she was the utter opposite.
When all the players settled back in with a fresh bottle in hand, Amaya raised her glass in cheers, "Ura!" then carefully started drinking all the way, slowly, until her glass was emptied. She let out a soft sigh and nudged the soldier beside her, "Your turn!"
He slightly raised his hand then in a moment, darted for the bathroom in the desperate need to puke. Seth and some other soldiers leaned back in a daze, while Fenrir burst out laughing.
"Ya sure that isn't water, partner?" Fenrir asked Ray in between laughs.
“Hundred percent vodka, Fen.” Ray answered with a chuckle and began clapping Amaya on the shoulder, “Admit it, she totally smoked all of you there.”
"How can you even do that?!" one soldier questioned.
"I live in a country where vodka is like a diminutive form of water so…" she shrugged. “I guess I can just handle it fine?”
“FINE?!” Seth blurted out in shock, obviously and absolutely drunk. “YOU FINISHED A WHOLE BOTTLE OF VODKA, ALICE! HOW CAN YOU BE FINE?!”
Infectious laughter spread throughout the room, and the game played on. A couple of soldiers had to run for the restroom to puke, but none surrendered until Fenrir flipped the last King.
“I call for the rule of the two!” Fenrir declared as he took the ale-filled glass at the center of the table. “Amaya, bud, ya have to take half of this.”
“Hmm-” she stared at the tall glass for a moment before agreeing to the Ace. He filled her glass right up with the ale and with a clink, they both downed the alcohol like nothing else mattered in the whole world.
“Ahh! That tastes weird!” She exclaimed, clearly disgusted by the bitter taste of beer.
The party lasted long into the wee hours of the morning. Sirius and some other soldiers who were sober enough helped clean the lounge, while Ray and Luka brought the very drunk Seth and Fenrir back to their bedrooms.
#ikemen revolution fanfiction#ikerev#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen kakumei#ikemen series#ikemen revolution#ikemen original character#gemini
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