#being blair is to make a fool of yourself

[sapphsorrows]

"people only pick on trans people because they're easy targets" yeah no shit they're easy targets just like flat earthers and antivaxxers. what they believe is absolutely fucking insane when you think about it for more than 2 seconds.

the idea of trans is no different from the idea of predestination.

predestination says only those who have been chosen by god will be saved and will go to heaven. how do you know you're predestined? there is literally no way to tell externally. there is no test you take to make sure you're predestined. you just have to put your faith in jesus and know, internally, in your heart, or whatever. funny how literally everyone who believes this also happens to be one of the ~chosen ones~.

the idea of being trans is that some people are born in the wrong body. how do you know you're born in the wrong body? there is literally no external way to tell, aside from maybe a few "am I trans?" quizlets (which as we all know are 100% accurate always and only made by professionals and not 12 year old furries). you just look inside, or whatever, and somehow "know" or you decide for yourself. then, based on your own self-reporting, which you have no way to externally verify, you expect people to bend to your will and you expect society to give you special privileges that no one else gets. no other man gets to pee in the ladies' or compete in women's sports but once you self-id as trans? well, right this way "ma'am", pay no mind to the women cowering in fear of you. their rights don't matter nearly as much as your feelings. funny how damn near everyone who believes in this also happens to be trans themselves, will a few outliers.

even "gender critical" transes like mr. blaire white and ms. buck angel will talk in hours upon hours of videos about the importance of gatekeeping and protecting women's spaces, yet /they/ demand the exact same privileges as every other "fake" (in their words) trans person on tiktok. do you seriously think "fake" trans people are going to listen to you and suddenly not go into the women's? No! are you fucking kidding me? it's so much easier to tell a buck or a blaire to fuck off than it is to a delusional fetishist who will 100% either hurt you or make a scene. there is no "true trans" because EVERYONE claims to be truly trans, everyone from bruce jenner to the "IT IS MA'AM" gamestop dude.

it fucking baffles me how youtube skeptics - people i used to admire, people who taught me how to think critically about shit - will spend all damn day dunking on flat earthers and creationists but will turn a blind eye to the trans cray and will even go as far as to support them. they think they're so above it all and they can't be fooled, but they have been, and I keep waiting for them to snap out of it - just like I waited for my own family to snap out of christianity - but they haven't.

if you seriously think a dress and some hormones and plastic surgery will make a man into a woman, you're insane, and you're no more crazy than a youtuber who thinks antarctica is an ice wall or a pastor who still prays to his "sky daddy". you have no right to make fun of these people for the insane shit they believe when you believe in this nonsense. you are quite literally the pot calling the kettle black.

and if you're one of those people who's like "oh well i know they're not actually women i just call them that to avoid hurting their feelings" im sorry but you're still in this cult, you're physically in but mentally out and the only way to really get out is to call a spade a spade, admit the emperor has no clothes, admit you were fooled just like me - just like all of us - and speak out against it.

[lilywily143]

I have now found a analog horror that doesn't have jumpscares and the types of faces that make me wanna sob when I see them. You know, stretchy smiles?

It's called Winter of '83, give if a fully watch. And I mean fully. It was apparently a April Fools analog horror movie and has a corny begining but it is soooo cool

I have my live reactions down here, I started on discord for my ranting heh

OF COURSE A COLLAPSED BUILDING IS CALLED THE EMBRACE

OH SHIT SKELETON AND BLOOD

Why do people care more about their cars than their well-beings...?? Though that really gives a reference to how much snow their is, my god

let's hope they come...

deputy blair.... oh gosh... please be yourself...

window?

oh Lord...

this yelling

this is intense

IS THE MAYOR A PARASITE THING?!

oh no. chasing.

this is... not good.

NOT STEVEN NO HE'S DEAD

GO AWAY FROM HIM DARCY

.....and the screaming

BACK TO CARL!!!!! HE'S ALIVE!!!

please stay alive for me... you're awesome

interesting little parasite..

THE ORIGINAL "can you help me with this?" IT WAS THE SCINCE BUDDY'S COLLEGUE THAT GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK

oh gosh

I couldn't hear that one question the parasite asked

what is happening?!

oh gosh it's getting worse...

"What is God?" THATS WHAT THEY ASKED

"It is we" YOU ARE NOT GOD YOU PARASITES

you are in the right Robert Chandra...

this is almost done.

OH NO BROKEN GLASS

...Carl don't leave now... it's all sn- DARCY?!

DARCY IS DEAD NOW NO NO NO NO NO

Carl no...

CARL GOT A GUN

is he okay.....

when will the snow talk though the news again..

20 inches of snow?! that's intense

OH GOSH WHO'S INTURRUPTING THE NEWS

OH LORD THESE SOUNDS

.....oh gosh...

EVIL ASS PARASITE TAKING THE VOICE "Sorry to inturupt. leave. house. step. outsite. the storm. is shelter." GHAHGSIBGJWEKLDSV

CARL PLEASE PLEASE GET SAFE!!!

I KNOW YOU WONT MAYBE BUT PLEASE!!!

The battery is dying....

too quiet....

where is this snowman gonna come from >:[

sirens!

he's running

was that a phone on the ground?

oh no a person was gotten

he's running for the sirens? maybe its a truck

where are you now Carl.....?

OH FUCK THAT OH MY GOD I NEVER EXPECTED TO SEE THAT SNOWMAN WITH THE IMITATION OF CARL, THAT WAS SO FREAKY

oh this little ending part after the credits...

my Lord this was insane; how was this a April Fools analog horror?!??!?

[maguro13-2]

Demons Unleashed ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Gaiden Pt. 25 ~

Maka Albarn : [looking at the Violet Purple Heart] So...this Violet Pure Heart object, that Genesis fella told me that I was the one who woke up from a fantasy world that I was living in, this courage, me defeating a God, and...this Soul Resonance. But no, it wasn't Soul Resonance or it was something else that what made realize that I was under the influence of the boy who created my world. But what did the Nightmaren say anything about my world being destroyed?

*Heartbeat echoing*

Maka Albarn : !?

[To the World of Memory - Yutaka Minobe]

Maka Albarn : Huh? Where am I? What's going on?

Inky Jr : You are inside the dream world, Soul World was just a fantasy of you living in.

Maka Albarn : Soul World? What are you talking about? This world...This is Soul world? This enitre world was created in my head? Hey, look that's me, My sister, mother, and my friends. Guess she's not the one that is part of the story, but why on earth would she even say anything about this world.

Inky Jr. : Look closely. What see you here in this Soul World of yours is very wrong to the picture, the Nightmarens put you all through this for around 3 years ago while you were in a deep sleep after the incident.

Maka Albarn : You mean Soul Eater was just a dream that I created around three years ago. But Shinigami, the witches, and the Gods...

Inky Jr : All of this was part of their plan in order to fuel the Darkness in your heart, your rage, your hatred, and all of that courage has gone to waste, they were feeding you information that you were the protector of the Kusakabe Legacy, you were the next devil of Shinra's new world that he created for you and has spreaded the lies.

Maka Albarn : Hey, what's my sister talking about now?

[inaudible]

Maka Albarn : What? Is she saying none of that is real?

Inky Jr. : Indeed.

[Solitude - Tomoko Sasaki]

[evil laughters is heard from a group]

Maka Albarn : What's that sound.

Inky Jr. : I smell evil in their blood.

Maka Albarn : That sound like...(sees Soul with glowing red eyes) Soul! Oh I'm glad that you finally made it and...Soul? What's with the evil look on your eyes?

Inky Jr. : Be careful and open your eyes, because that man you entrusted isn't him. And so of these that you all entrusted with.

Soul (?) : [laughs evilly] I never thought that we all enstrusted to be the next devil of Shinra's new world. You gotta the dumbest of all, Maka.

Tsubaki (?) : Yeah, you are such a fool to us all, Maka. You calling yourself a hero and angel? Ha! What a joke!

Blair (?) : I can't believe you gave all of our thanks for being the fools of the Ohkuboverse, you and Shinra are just a bunch of losers, this world that he created had to make you all suffer the same fate as he did. Guess the evil forces won't be teasing you anymore if they're gone and Crona will be gone, you won't be the hero to save anyone, anymore. What a coward!

Liz (?) : Yeah, a coward!

(everyone laughs at Maka evilly)

Kimial Diehl (?) : You call yourself a hero? That is so lame!

Maka Albarn : Papa, please help me.

Spirit Albarn (?) : You should've listen to the truth, Maka. Because you are always such a fool and I must thank for defeating a relative to the Kusakabe that is the Kishin...YOU BIG LIAR!

All : Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!

Maka Albarn : Stop it! Stop it! I showed the world my courage! I'm not a coward! I did everything what I did! Why me, Why Shinra!? I'm sorry that I wanted be a hero just like Shinra, I wanted to be like him, I didn't meant to come to this way, I only wanted to believe in him! AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

Moira Albarn : Sister, run! Get out of there! None of this is real!

Maka Albarn : !?

Inky Jr. : What are you fools doing? You're making this girl cowering in fear! These are not your friends that lived in your world!

Soul (?) : Of course we're not real. You and the entire world of Soul Eater is just a fantasy living inside of her head.

Tsubaki (?) : Yeah, you are right, Ink Demon. None of this real, neither Soul World is.

Black Star (?) : Can't believe a girl living in the real world felt for it. Living in a Fantasy world was your disorder, Maka. Just of a part of your dream.

Death the Kid (?) : Yeah, Maka. thanks for making us live in your "Fantasy" world, ya stupid girl. Now get back to celebrating your doom and start turning youuuuur fate!

Soul (?) : Yeah, or else things in the real world may not work, [stutters] work...work...work...wooooork! [begins to break, with a distorted voice] This is definitely not according what Master Xehanort planned for us in this dream! I mean Master Wizeman! No, Lord eNeMeE!!!

Maka Albarn : Master Xehanort, Wizeman, Lord eNeMeE? What are you talking about? What's the deal with Master Xehanort, Soul and you guys? I'm confused for all of this. But You all sounded like a bunch of...

*SMASH SFX : Shield Break*

Neoshadow : RAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!

Maka Albarn : Heartless!

[Cauldron Probe - Amduskia (Battle ver.) - Hideaki Kobayashi]

Inky Jr : You see, Maka Albarn. This is not the World of Soul Eater, you've been lured into a trap set up by Wizeman.

Maka Albarn : So the Sega fools set me up for this!

Inky Jr. : We better hurry! (the two runs off to escape)

Maka Albarn : Everyone one that I known and love aren't real, they were only heartless in my head. So the real ones are living in the real world! You were right and I was wrong, they were all false to me! No wonder why the heartless attention' were about targeting the human race, why would Asura wanted to destroy the world and reclaim as his own planet!?

Inky Jr. : Because Demon Vibe was only trying to conquer the Galaxy, the Kishin was just heartless, another of the Four Emperors of Evil.

Maka Albarn : So those were the four emperors that were under the influence of Demon Vibe in order to destroy the Galaxy, but wait, you said that there's one missing. Who could've be...(sees a light that they are running towards) It's that light again! But how...?!

Inky Jr. : What is this!?

"I've awaited for your return, visitor."

"You've just made yourself into the promised land."

"This will be your wake up call of the day."

"I wonder what you have for us in store?

~ Stage 29 : Dream Drop of Another Distance ~

[gg-soliloquy]

14/04/24 00.25 PM | Gossip Girl Update | ECH with Her Low-energy Exterior

Gossip Girl here, ur one and only source into the scandalous lives of Katie’s elite.

Spotted: ECH, the girl who’s like a walking contradiction—she looks like she’s running on empty, but somehow manages to light up the room with her warmth and charm. This chick’s got a vibe that’s all her own, and let me tell u, it’s downright irresistible. May seem like she’s got no energy left in the tank, but don’t be fooled. She’s got this effortless charm that’s like a magnet, pulling u in to her comforting presence. And as a friend, ECH is the real deal. She’s the first person to reach out if she senses that something’s not right with u, and the first to come looking for u if u’re not in sight. She’s like a guardian angel, always looking out for ur well-being and making sure u’re taking care of urself. And speaking of taking care of yourself, she’s like a walking reminder to prioritize ur health. She’ll nag u about eating well and regularly, making sure u’re getting enough rest and staying hydrated. It’s like having ur own personal health coach, and trust me, u’ll be grateful for it in the long run. I want nothing more than for her to find her true happiness. She's got a heart of gold, and it breaks my heart to see her hurt by people who don't appreciate her for who she is. Here's hoping that 2024 is the year she finds the happiness and love she deserves, because if anyone deserves it, it's her. Here’s to u, ECH — the most attentive friend with low-energy exterior.

And who am i? I’m Blair Waldorf’s clone aka Katie Blair that u know.

XOXO, Gossip Girl. 💋

[ablogwithoutacause]

The wicked world we live in…

It’s all about programming. About sabotaging the young mind. Teen “soap opera” such as gossip girl and euphoria grossly corrupts the mind of a growing soul. So socially disturbing… yet it fools young people into normalizing said behaviors. Keep in mind the writers and the directors of these programs are sick f#%’s in their upwards middle aged years in corporate positions. Young girls eat it up; climb the narrowing social pyramid. Where only a select few make the cut. They digest it and defecate then eat it once again.

The same is applied to young men. Violence, and cutting corners to reach riches through the influence of grotesque music, false dreams of becoming a professional athlete, and the false illusion of success through organized crime or illicit incomes.

Both men and women are shaped by such entertainment, it’s sad to admit that societal norms are degrading more and more each day. The spiral is reaching its end, we’re in the last days. Soon this will be no more. When you said you wanted me to watch gossip girl… i watched it with hope of seeing who “we were” but I’ve been exposed to a disgusting world i had no idea existed… knowing you saw this in your youth kinda makes me uncomfortable. This is no show for someone who wants to be spiritually strong in such a chaotic world. You wouldn’t watch two-hour long urban cowboy because of the harsh marriage Bud and Sissy had. You wouldn’t watch two-hour long Mi Familia because of a postpartum death scene… but backstabbing, minors having relations with adults, corruption, and extortion is okay to endure for over 5 seasons and eighty-six hours worth of soap opera. Which I’ve almost completed.

It’s not an attack towards you. Just an analytical rhetorical segment as to what i think of it so far. Where is the line drawn? Things Chuck is willing to do for Blair that she won’t do for him, and vice versa. Is this what the future will have for us, if that opportunity presents itself? One sided scavenger hunts? One sided interests. Goals. Investments? You know I have a very philosophical way of viewing things, and i can also have a mundane black and white way of doing things when under pressure. Well this isn’t an attempt at any disturbance to your “time alone”. You’re clearly working on yourself being a rabbit working out, drinking coffee, and focusing on you. It hit me today, it’s been fifteen days since we last spoke. Sixteen now as I’m finishing this entry. Only you know the way you do things. As do i, for what pertains to me. I guess I’m working on myself too. Instead of crying and making myself useless during this period. It finally clicked that i should be proactive. A part of me died recently. Twenty-seven bodies, was what Jehovah allowed me to pick up during my work with the funeral home. The year i turned twenty seven. Each one taught me a valuable lesson. Each one unique, each one with a story. From homicide, to overdose… from old age, to motor vehicle accident. I learned that my life in this state could come to a finish at anytime. One thing i asked God, was to allow me to be your husband once again, and fulfill my role as husband just as i had accepted to do so with you as my witness. I want to leave the ugly behind, to die, but not forget it like Chuck tried to do in Paris. Ignoring the past does nothing. Accepting it and learning from it is what is going to help me reach the highs i wish to complete.

This will be my last “message”. Whatever poetry you read here from now on is figurative and only makes sense when all of context is known. I will not leave anything cryptic, any hints as to what is occurring in my life. If something seems negative, it’s because I’m feeling negative. If something seems romantic, it’s how I’m feeling. Poetry is more than romantic. It’s everything. For instance, i wrote this last night

A que saben tus besos?

Se me olvida entre tanto abismo

Entre tanto tiempo…

Hubieras sido menos cruel y decirme que ya no querías nada conmigo

Como piensas arreglar las cosas,

Haciéndome a un lado?

Como vas a hablar con otros y decir que me amas?

Como me vas a extrañar y evitar?

Donde no se te busca, no se te quiere

Again. It’s how i was feeling.

La mujer es como la guitarra… muchas se ven similares… entonan las mismas melodías mas el timbre nunca es igualado. El olor nunca es el mismo. La densidad nunca igualada. El color. Los detalles… Donde se desafina. Donde suena mejor. Cómo se desafina. Cuando aprender a tocar en una guitarra, nunca la olvidaras… 1971 Yamaha G series. Mi primer guitarra clásica. Desgastada. Nunca afinaba al “cien”. Pero un tono grueso, incompatible. Añejo. K8e, sensible, reactiva y impaciente… pero sabia amar. Quebré esa guitarra… Sera parchada, reconstruida. Tal vez no suene igual, tal vez suene mejor. La mujer es como la guitarra.

Ambos fueron escritas la misma noche. Simplemente mi sistema, es que no hay sistema. Lo que nace, se hace. Es quien soy. No puedes meter un Aguila en una jaula. Su hogar es en cielo. Es en cerro. Es peñasco en la barranca que fija su mirada al mar. Es donde su nido queda. Este águila se canso de ser picoteada por los cuervos. Y volara mas alto para alejarse de su pasado. El sabe donde queda su nido. Y solo espera encontrarlo disponible nuevamente… y no ocupado por un lobo.

[honouredsatoru]

𝙟𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙠𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

notes. hey upper east siders. gossip girl here. did you missed me? i bet you didn't expect my sudden return. i am just posting this to compensate for the lost time during my hiatus. but don't be fooled by my disappearance. i'm always watching. inspired by @anthenais's jjk daddy x mean girls hc.

warning. slight jjk vol 0, gojo past arc and shibuya arc spoilers. gossip girl likes to address people with initials, nicknames and this hc is based on how gossip girl talks in/narrates the show. if you get the hc, lilith luths you.

taglist. @sookyshima @sasso-oda @iridescent-queen @satosuguslut @princesatoru @laudthingcat @lazy10ieiri @tojisveryown @megumisichigo @noritoshiikamo @godbaji @booksweet @cxmplexity @nkogneatho @skunaryomen @saintgojo @kotarousgf @fallxngstarr @nanami-luvr @sirthisisa-wendys

gojo satoru - chuck bass. charming, your typical ladies man, suave and unpredictable. he is sure to leave your legs sore, chest and neck filled with bite marks, but your names will not be remembered. will do whatever it takes to defend the ones he loves, but don't get him wrong, this tall hot stuff will not hesitate playing dirty either. but nobody really knows what stronger g really feels or thinks about. after all, a mask can really hide what kind of person anyone is really like.

shoko ieiri - vanessa abrams. she's good but poor s, thinking that things would go back to the way they used to be. soft spoken, hard working but what does she feel when one goes down memory lane and thinks about the past interactions she had moments before everything goes downhill? should've asked him to stay and stared harder at the ticking time bomb, s.

geto suguru - nate archibald. oh g, what do you mean that humans are good, kind, and worth saving? they'd betray their own kind, so what makes him think that they would treat the special ones differently? who's to say that g won't change his ways in order to restore the balance he thought existed in the first place? don't play with fire, kids, especially near a bomb-like heart.

nanami kento - rufus humphrey. live life with no regrets, they say. but i am sure this father figure has his own regrets. it's just a matter of time, when he will finally be reunited with the person who he abandoned once to make him rethink the words he wanted to say to his dear i.

mei mei - georgina sparks. what's wrong with being a little wild from time to time? looks like m here resembles g in a lot of ways, from scheming, backstabbing to being someone you can trust your life with. as long as the money keeps on running. oh you know, your typical wild child stuff.

yuji itadori - serena van der woodsen. everyone who meets little i will always fall for him. and the need to destroy but also protect y. what kind of charms did little y used to the point that even the special curses had its soul wrapped around y's finger? don't bite off more than what you can chew, i, otherwise that demon in you will be too hard for you or anyone to control.

utahime iori - blair waldorf. queen b. sophisticated, beautiful, regal and poise. but one warrior scar can tell you thousands worth of stories. wasn't she often seen as weak? just because you appear weak to others doesn't mean you really are. beware ladies and gents, you might not know the abilities of the person you see as a lesser individual compared to yourself.

yuta okkotsu - dan humphrey. spotted. lonely boy who is haunted by the spirit of his former lover. y really thinks that he was cursed, but little does he know that he was the one who put the curse onto his lover's poor spirit. careful y, you'll be running out of lockers to hide the bodies and guilt.

kugisaki nobara - jenny humphrey. little j and little k. the little queens of constance billard and jujutsu high. but for how long? sure, her love for fashion and that youthful soul of hers catches the attention. and the need to join the upper east siders' clique but her bubbles are just waiting to be popped. don't say i didn't warn you.

fushiguro megumi - eric van der woodsen. spotted. another lonely boy. now, what do boys from troubled families tend to have? mommy and daddy issues. seems to me that little m still doesn't know the atrocities his daddy dearest committed. but you didn't hear it from me. let the boy find it out with the help of stronger s.

fushiguro toji - bartholomew bass. ruthless, sexy as hell, maybe even hell himself because everything he touches burns. will he have a chance of redemption or will he waste it away like how he sold his soul the moment he decided to throw it into the realms of money, lust and desire? will family be his saviour? or will he leave it again just like he did on the day little m was born?

rumours has it that little k's whereabouts is still unknown and stronger g is locked up in a place that neither you or me can reach. but what is life for these jujutsu sorcerers and curse users without the revoltingly delicious taste of drama? you know you love me. xoxo, gossip girl.

© honouredsatoru. reblogs are appreciated.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Billy Owens and the Secret of the Runes (2010)

My love for the Harry Potter films has pushed me to find out what makes them special. This means exploring the realm of wannabees. Many pictures would seek to duplicate the magic of J.K. Rowling’s wizarding world. The very worst has to be The Mystical Adventures of Billy Owens: a film so cheap and poorly assembled you'll laugh at the embarrassing special effects when you're not spotting the cameraman's reflection. How could “Billy Owens and the Secret of the Runes” be worse? It's a question you'll regret asking. This film crushes your soul under the weight of its agonizing performances, thin characters, dull action, incomprehensible plot, muddled dialogue, unearned sentiments and amateur writing.

While other students are enjoying their summer vacation, Billy Owens (Dalton Mugridge) and his best friends Devin (Christopher Fazio as fake Ronald Weasley) and Mandy (Ciara O’Hanlon as not Hermione Granger) are taught magic by their teacher, Mr. Thurgood (Roddy Piper). When the kids fool around with some runes and accidentally send their teacher into a coma from which he may never wake up, they ally themselves with Mandy’s cousin Danny (Mikayla Ottonello) to save him. Meanwhile, the villainous professor Mould (Paul Germs) and his crony, the bully-turned-troll Kurt (Jordon Goulet) are hot on their track.

To preserve your sanity while watching a film of this caliber, you must latch onto something and look forward to it. Ideally, it would be the romance blossoming, the villain getting their comeuppance, the mystery being solved, etc. In a bad movie, you'll settle for sleazy nudity, unconvincing gore, or memorably bad performances. In Billy Owens 2, what kept me going was Roddy Piper’s lumpy hat. Whenever he showed up, I wondered if he was going to tip it or take it off just to put it back on seconds later. I know it sounds pathetic, but beggars can't be choosers.

Billy Owens and the Secret of the Runes is barely a movie and pinpointing its biggest weakness is easy: the sound design. Student filmmakers take note. Remember The Blair Witch Project and El Mariachi? They were to follow because you could hear what the characters were saying despite their minuscule budgets. Not that anything said in this rock-hard turd is worthwhile, but without even the charity of subtitles on the DVD release, Billy Owens 2 is a labor to get through. You literally have to strain yourself to piece together what this shoddy plot is about.

This sequel is significantly worse than its predecessor because it doesn’t have the "lovable" elements that made you laugh previously. There’s a phony-looking dragon, but all you see is its head, and even then, only for a few moments. While the dialogue is just as badly written, you can’t hear it. The performances are so crappy it's practically torture. The plot seems to stretch on endlessly. To watch this film all the way through you have to have lost part of your mind already, which seems obvious because no one would ever look at the DVD cover and say “Wow! I remember liking the first one. I bet this sequel will be just as good!”

I can’t believe I spent time, money and effort tracking down Billy Owens and the Secret of the Runes. Maybe I deserve everything I got from it. I should’ve known better. To anyone who watches movies for fun, even bad movies, I beg you to stay away. (On DVD, December 29, 2017)

[filthy-reckless-rp]

♛ Spotted on the Upper East Side…

Name: Blair Waldorf Pronouns: She/Her Age: 19 years old Hometown: Upper East Side, NY Occupation: Sophomore at TBD College Social Status: Insider Faceclaim: Davika Hoorne

Who Is Blair?

“I’m not a stop along the way. I’m a destination.”

Blair Waldorf. Did you miss me? I missed you. Honestly, I can’t imagine the Upper East Side without you and I hope you feel the same way about me. I mean, sure, I’m a little hurt that you ever entertained Jesse Walker for a second but I can let bygones be bygones. Probably. I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself though. How is life out of Constance? You might no longer be the ‘queen bee’ of the school but I doubt you’ve left that attitude behind. You’ve always acted confident, self assured and in control of your own destiny. You know your own worth and won’t let anyone mess with you and live to tell the tale (unless they’re your besties). Smart, devious and cruel when the occasion calls for it, you’re unforgettable. Well, depending on whether or not Serena is around. Sorry- I know you’re friends again and I shouldn’t make fun. I’m sure you’re in control of everything as always, Blair. I just don’t think that’s going to last very long now. XOXO ---Gossip Girl

A Little Extra

Blair Waldorf has demanded to be treated like the queen she is from the moment she was born. She has always been the best. She has to be. Blair has worked harder and smarter than anyone else in her way and when that didn’t work, she wasn’t above playing dirty. Sometimes you have to scheme to get your way. Sometimes you have to break a few hearts to keep the status quo in check. It wasn’t easy being the Queen B of Constance Billard, you know. Blair had a lot riding on her shoulders and that was just her social life! On top of that, she had college to think about and then, naturally, world domination. Blair has always seen a very clear cut path for herself. There is a plan and she’d really rather stick to it. Blair won’t be made a fool of by anyone and so she’d made sure to guard her heart. Being close to her is a privilege that should not be taken for granted. Blair would rather burn the world to the ground than admit she was hurt, that she was heartbroken, even when she is. 

It’s the Upper East Side’s worst kept secret that Blair has always been jealous of her best friend in the world, Serena van der Woodsen. Blair always tries so damn hard and Serena? Just breezes through life. Even Blair’s mom preferred Serena. The again, her mom would prefer a fresh shipment of couture gowns over Blair sometimes. Blair would never admit to feeling insecure or jealous so unfortunately, her feelings tend to come out in bitter and petty ways. When Serena left her though, Blair was devastated. She was heartbroken. And then she came back only for Blair to find out what she and Nate had done behind her back. Blair was furious and betrayed. She wanted to burn down the world. It took a lot of time, a lot of healing and apologizing for her to get to where she is today. The thing is, Serena, Nate and Chuck? They’re her real family. No matter how messed up and hurtful they can be, they’re hers and she’ll always love them. High school is over now though and Blair is going into her sophomore year of college. Her life is just beginning and everything is great. It’s. Great.

What Does Gossip Girl Have On Them?

Blair was worn down in a brief, foolish moment of empathy or whatever for Jesse Walker and his ridiculous ‘take down Gossip Girl’ idea. She ended up being a key player in the takedown. Not only did she help run the gossip well dry for GG, she agreed to throw a birthday party for none other than Dan Humphrey (bleugh) as a means to draw GG out. After all, who could resist something so absurd? So rife with the potential for drama. Anyway, it worked. Or so they thought. Blair wasn’t upset to see the back of GG. Now that’s she’s back though... It can only mean trouble.

Connections

Serena van der Woodsen - the best friend, the found family, the soulmate. Serena is the sunshine to Blair’s storm cloud. Serena keeps things fun and always reminds Blair of what she’s worth when she needs it. Serena is both the greatest friend in the world and the worst. It’s always going to be complicated but Blair loves her, always. And yes, B is totally cool with Serena-and-Nate, now. Yup.

Nate Archibald - the ex boyfriend. Blair and Nate had dated since the crib and he was the boy that B always dreamed that she would married. There was a time when all she wanted was to be a Waldorf-Archibald. Nate hurt her and maybe she’s not totally over that but she’s trying. They’re trying. After all, they’re the non-judging breakfast club. Bonded for life.

Chuck Bass - Chuck is the only person on the Upper East Side who truly appreciates and nurtures Blair’s devious side. There is no scheme like a Bass-Waldorf scheme. They’ve also been friends since the crib along with Serena and Nate.

Penelope Shafai, Kati Farkas, Bella Coates and Hazel Williams - the minions. Well, former minions. Well, friends. Blair knows they’re not in Constance anymore and is maybe trying to be a slightly better friend now. It comes and goes.

Jenny Humphrey - it was in a truly unexpected turn of events that Blair Waldorf ended up handing her crown down to a Humphrey. Begrudgingly, Jenny had earned it. And maybe it was time for something different. Jenny basically ditched the entire social hierarchy (ew) but each to their own. 

[way-to-the-future]

#29: Blaire - Debonair

((cw: explicit sexual content))

Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain is the best of us. Genial, athletic, brilliant. Sincere, stalwart, and accountable. Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain’s leadership is natural: he is a cousin of Dzemael blood, through the marriage of his aunt Euridice to Silvain de Dzemael-Hauteville. Yet he is not pretentious or churlish, but always fair-handed, even with those who are his lesser. His good humor is endless and quite mild, and he restricts himself always to maintain that veneer of high courtesy even when among his peers, knowing how young men of that age can often lead themselves to ruin through low morals and the encouragement of friends. The demoiselles swoon when he passes; the professors always turn to him first in seeking an answer. Fortunate me, that I can share in a fraction of his glory: Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain has roomed with me these last few months, each of us squires to the honorable knight lady Elodie du Pont de la Gardie.  Even in this matter, he exceeds me, being far better suited to the physical and the servile.

               I hate Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain.

               Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain smiles his cloying smile, each trite and dismissive look a question unasked, why are you not more like me? Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain cozens up to our joint mistress, flattering her arm and her grace, whose favor I would hardly contest did it not mean that I was left with the more egregious of our chores. I am jealous, yes; Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain can run faster, longer, bear a greater weight, weened as he was on the milk of only the stoutest hinterlands nursemaids. Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain, with his golden cropped hair and shining grey eyes, brings a different lass every second night into our chambers, uttering in hoarse ravings the same tired promises: I love you, I need you, please stay. He cannot think that I do not hear his graceless humping through the door that separates our rooms. None of this would I mind very much, were it not for that look the following morning – how did you sleep? Any bad dreams?

               Yet for all the more he has, still Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain is capable of envy, the glutton. More than once has he noticed my stumbling return from screeching nights in the lower city; more than once has he asked me how the common folk ‘really get on,’ presuming that I could describe to him some suitably vulgar tale to encapsulate decades spent kissing his sole. I note the unconscious edge to his tone, his stance: how could it be, in this city of his birth, that there remains anything outside of his dominion? And there, the root lies.

               Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain hesitates but a breath too long, and it forces him to encounter his pride. He’s not afraid of any brute or brigand with whom I associate in my few hours away from his gleaming palace. He could outdo any one of them, if it came to it.

               He follows me in his darkest cloak, hood drawn, forgetting that sable and soft felt don’t do anything to help one blend in down here. He sticks close, even through the door of the Knight’s Gibbet; I can almost hear his scandalized mutterings, even with my face turned to greet the tavern floor. His presence hangs behind me as I find us a suitable table among the stifled hunters and pickpockets, frightened and all the more volatile for it. Do you know how to play dead king’s round, asks one of our tablemates, haggard from weeks in the western forest. I can learn, says Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain. Of course he can.

               The atmosphere is unfamiliar to him; the weight of the smoke, the quality of the drink, the way the draft makes all patrons huddle together around their dice and cards. Don’t mind, Aubrey, the way they look at you past their cards. A hand under the table, gripping the thigh, is merely a sign of friendship. It would be an insult for men of our means to wager coin.

               Aubrey’s hands are clammy and clenched around mine in the dark of the back rooms. Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain has never been so scared, nor quite so unable to dismiss me, as when he watches one of our victorious fellow patrons shuck me of my silk breeches and put his tongue between my cheeks, bending me over a creaking table. At my request, none of them touch him; none of them would stop him, if he were to flee. But Aubrey, grey eyes gleaming under his hood with a kind of new jealousy, watches the other three step up one or two at a time to take out all the frustrations of a wasted life in the brume on soft, pale flesh. Is there anything of another man you will not wish to possess for yourself, having seen it?

               I’m resting my sweat-streaked brow on the table when I feel his hands, delicate and strong, take me by the hips. It’s Aubrey’s voice that apologizes, that stifles a sigh when he realizes what these brutes and brigands have enjoyed and he has been denied for months. I hear that voice curl in stunned delight when our friends crowd around to touch him. Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain, poor and fallen knight, scarcely has time to put the evidence of his jealousy so deep it makes me quiver when he’s bent over my back, too, and I hear him cry out. The weight, the force of it is almost too much to bear, but I will bear it to hear him pant and struggle, trapped by his own misplaced desire. Finally, something genuine.

               Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain snivels and weeps with need all through it, pressing desperate kisses to the back of my neck when he can keep himself from flailing about. I love you, he sighs, I need you. My nails dig into the coarse wood of the table as I feel him pulse again, overcome by the stimulation. Please stay. With suppressed, exhausted humor, I realize the fool means it; for a moment, perhaps, I am obliged to feel the same.

               Not that it matters. Not that Aubrey will acknowledge the shame, nor the lack awoken in him, once we have left the delirium of that darkened cellar. Aubrey du Val-Ceaustain does not smile at me again for the whole period of our service to Elodie du Pont de la Gardie – but nights pass, when we are both alone, that I can hear him through our thin wooden walls, visiting me in his very worst dreams.

[isthemicon]

It’s not that I ship Chair it’s just I can’t imagine shipping Dair.

In my opinion Blair never had romantic feelings towards him. She was always avoiding the question about romantic love in regards to him because she didn’t want people to know that but she also respected him enough not to lie about it. And that lack of love isn’t because the writers wanted Chair, they wanted Chair and yet she openly talked about loving Nate and about loving Louis.

And yes they had things in common and they liked hanging out togheter but as much as friendship is needed in relationship it isn’t enough. There is a reason why your friends with whom you can talk with for hours aren’t your life partners. Dan did love her (although I’m not sure how much of it was love and how much of it was the fascination that appeared from his book, how much was it love for Blair and how much was is it love for Clair, that was only partly like Blair) but you can’t make yourself love someone just because it makes sense and just because they love you. Soon or later you will start seeing that you’re missing something in your relationship.

That is horrible, I know, there are times when you wish you could love your friends because it would be easier or because it should make sense. But in the end it’s not how love works.

So yeah, I wouldn’t mind Blair ending up with Louis or Nate. Because that was at least love. Dair was two great friends fooling themselves because they’ve been hurt by life and love

Disclaimer: this isn’t anti dair or pro chair post I’m just talking about the romantic aspect, sure you could say that all of it could have been different if they would write it differently but they didn’t. Same thing can happen with your heart now mater how much you might want, you can’t change it’s desires because it would be easier. I also don’t like that type of story line where one friend is in love the other but other doesn’t know but after they realize that their friend has feeling for them they go into a realtionship and maybe start having feeling for each other. I hate those, if you don’t see your friend being obviously in love you it means that you don’t want to see it. You’re a simply not attracted to theme in a romantic way and that is okay.

[ilguna]

Belamour - Chapter Ten (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing, MURDER AND ATTEMPTED MURDER

wc; 10k

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Well, even if you’d wanted to go fishing in the pond today, you wouldn’t be able to. Unless you had a lot more wire, of course. Maybe then you’d be able to attach it to your already existing hook, to make a longer line. Even then, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. The water looks like it could give you twenty different types of water diseases if you’re not careful.

The surface was definitely fooling you, that’s for sure. It was fairly clear, not as nice as the waterfall water, but it didn’t look anywhere near dangerous. Now, the water is in between brown and black. You can’t tell exactly, and you don’t think it really matters. It’s the fact that you were once drinking out of this, that matters.

Honestly, with most of the water drained out of it like this, it shows how deep it is. And the fact that there’s still water? Holy shit. You don’t think you sank that far down when you killed the boy from Twelve, but you might have. When you were in the water, it didn’t feel like that big of a difference.

But now that you’re standing over it like how a swimmer stands over a dive board, it’s a distance. You definitely wouldn’t die on impact if you jumped in, but whatever lies beneath might do it. This makes you wonder why you aren’t sick at all, if you drank so much water and ate the fish, shouldn’t you be… dying? Or at least weak?

Unless the water wasn’t bad until the mutt showed up. Which is so damn weird.

“What’re you staring at?” you hear, “Did the pond drain or something?”

You look over, it’s Blaire, “You could say that.”

He stops next to you, and inhales through his teeth when he sees the depths, and then his face twists when he sees the color of the water, “That’s gross.”

“You’re telling me.” you poke the side of the bank, watching as a chunk of dirt, grass and mud breaks off and falls. 

It hits the water with a plop sound, water flying back up--it doesn’t even reach the halfway point. And you can feel your heart die in your chest when you watch the black mass move. It’s definitely not the water, and it’s still the creature that the gamemakers released, just beneath the surface.

“I wonder how much further it goes down.” Blaire mutters.

“Feel free to go check.” you back away from the edge, and so does he.

“I’m good, thanks.”

You crack a smile, “Alright, let’s go.”

Today’s the big day--or tonight. All that really matters is that it’s happening, and if there’s any day to call perfect, it’s today. It feels like it’s around eighty to ninety degrees, and if the gamemakers keep ramping up the heat, you have a feeling there will be no use for a fire tonight.

Except to cook the rabbit meat that Trink and Lennox caught this morning. You know you keep saying this, but you really are out of time. The animals are back, the arena is hot again, and you’re sure that you’re on the verge of another tribute death.

You and Blaire walk in silence for a while, as usual. There isn’t much to talk about in the first place, besides home. Talking about the games and who’s going to win, will just cause a fight or end up shocking each other. Blaire might be trying to give you space to think about what you’ll be doing tonight, too.

You keep telling yourself that it isn’t a big deal, but it always snaps back. It is a big deal. One wrong move will cause you to get into huge amounts of troubles with your allies. And it’s not really something you’ve done before, either. Of course, you’ve killed tributes for survival, and one for mercy, but this is different.

This is backstabbing. You’re backstabbing Allio to a selfish attempt to save yourself. If you were back home, you’d be telling the tribute not to do it. It’s too risky, a hundred things could go wrong. Things that you haven’t considered, and neither have they. They always end up going through with it anyway.

Either it can go very well, and the tribute can slide by undetected if they cover their tracks well enough. Or they miss one small aspect, which is all it takes. One small, overlooked detail that the other tributes look at. Suddenly, the tribute is busted, and then it’s a race to get rid of the tribute before they can cause anymore trouble.

You don’t want to be that tribute.

Which means that you should give up on the plan, but you’ve come this far. Blaire knows, the Capitol knows, and all the districts do too. They’re all awaiting the show that you’re going to give them tonight. You have a feeling that they won’t be going to bed until it’s over with.

Can the girl pull it off? What’s she going to do exactly? Will the other tributes know immediately? Or will they believe the lies that she comes up with?

If you win the games, this will be a major turning point in the recap, you think. Everyone will all hold their breaths again, and likely still not believe how deceiving you can be to others. (Y/n) Gallows, the fifteen year old girl from District Four, who teamed up with the careers and managed to kill two of them without being kicked out.

You wonder what your title will be. Every year, there’s a signature of a tribute, and the Capitol takes it and spins it around to make the tribute memorable. For Anchor, it was how ruthless he was. For Enobaria, it was her ripping out a tribute’s neck with her teeth. Cashmere and Gloss get a pass because they’re siblings.

When you’re more than halfway to the waterfall, you hear the music of a sponsor gift. You and Blaire stop, and your eyes find it immediately, swaying from side to side because of the parachute. You lean your sword against a tree, and catch the medium-sized pot in your hands.

You move the parachute out of the way, opening the lid to the gift. Inside holds food, and water. You pause, eyebrows drawing in, because you’re not entirely sure what this means. You know it’s for you, because it looks like Anchor has signed off on the gift again. But why the water and food if you have enough?

“Hold on.” you tell him, crouching down to put the gift in the grass while you look over the paper. It holds two words, ‘turn around’.

You place the paper back into the gift, shutting the lid. You look over in the direction you guys were heading, and you find nothing weird about it. The ground looks normal, and when you look over the trees, you don’t find any animals or nests. Maybe there’s a trap set up somewhere over there?

Or maybe there’s a tribute? You don’t remember anyone being able to camouflage in the Training Center, but they very well could have hid that skill for moments like this. No matter what happens, you’re not going to be going that way. Anchor is saving you from something or someone.

“What’s wrong?”

You get the backpack off, placing the food inside, and then pulling it back on, “Change of plans.” you smile, “Let’s head back towards the pond, since we’ve got food. How does a picnic sound?”

“Sure.” he’s still confused, and you make sure that he walks in front of you. He might be the older one, but he doesn’t have the sword, much less know how to use it. 

“Remember how I said that we’d be invading someone’s personal space yesterday?”

Blaire looks over to you, and you go ahead and walk side-by-side with him now. You’ve gotten pretty far away from where Anchor told you to turn around. You think that you’re in the clear, but that won’t keep you from making sure every now and then.

Blaire nods, “You saw someone over there?”

“Yes. I was just debating on whether or not to go over there anyway. And since we got water and food, there is no reason.” you hope that he buys it, or at least doesn’t question it.

It was probably Finnick or one of the other tributes, prepared at the waterfall or ready to pounce from behind a tree. You don’t really care what it was, all that matters is that you dodged a bullet thanks to Anchor. All you hope is that he won’t get in trouble for telling you something like that.

“How are you going to sort out the water?” Blaire asks, continuing to fill the silence.

“Well, there were five bottles. So I guess I’ll just dump the water into the canteens and throw the water bottles to the monster in the pond.” you smile at Blaire.

“Oh, we’re eating by the pond?” Blaire’s making a face.

“Got a better idea?” you ask.

He shrugs, brushing some of his hair out of his face, “I was thinking of the beach. And while we’re there, you can tell me some wicked facts about them.”

You snort, as if you have any. The most you could give him are cruel stories about how your brother’s are mean to you. You’re sure that’ll go over well with the Capitol, it’s entertainment at least. You’re sure that they have better people to watch, though. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“I don’t have any facts about beaches.”

“I do.” he says, “I guess I’ll just have to school you on it, then. Don’t you live right next to the ocean?”

You roll your eyes, “That’s so stereotypical of you. It’s like me asking you if you know how to rig a tv to hack into the Capitol’s defense systems. The answer is obviously no, and it was a stupid assumption to begin with.”

He’s laughing, and you can’t help but to crack a smile yourself. By the time you reach the beach, it’s well past noon, and you’re sweating. You manage to find a spot in the shade, but just like how it was last week, the shade doesn’t offer much relief. You pull out the food again, and just barely open the lid enough to spot the paper.

After slipping it into your pocket, you go ahead and get to work, allowing Blaire to take what he wants. You fill up the canteens, saving one water bottle for Blaire. He thanks you, and digs into his soup and rice. You give yourself a small portion, not entirely sure how much you’ll be able to eat.

“What’s your favorite part about being in District Four?” Blaire asks, and before you can answer, he adds, “You can’t say the water, friends or family.”

You close your mouth, because that basically crosses out all of your answers. Leave it to him to know what to take away so that you have to think about the answer. Obviously, your brother’s are a big part of it, they’ve raised you for the past three years, and they’re a big reason that you’re the person you are today. They’re also the reason why you’re fighting so hard to stay alive.

And friends, Naida, Calandra, Caspian, and all the other kids. Your friends from school, like Finnick, also make the district enjoyable. They’ve also shaped your personality, since that’s what happens when you’re around people all the time. You develop their traits, evolve them, and make them your own.

The water too, you guess. It’s what Four is about, fishing, and swimming and knowing how to use spears and tridents and how to tie knots. All the tributes before you, were shaped around that idea. Actually, to be fair, the water and fishing makes up most of everyone’s personality traits, it’s nothing you guys can help.

Unless, of course, if you’re rich and never have had to dip your toe in a drop of water that’s outside your bath. That is the only time where people’s personalities stray, and become unlikable. The people end up having no one to talk to, besides other rich kids that they somehow form a rivalry. And because all the poor kids don’t know what’s going on, the rich end up bragging. Makes everyone dislike them.

Anyway, you’re not sure that you’ll be able to provide an answer to this question. You give a look to Blaire, only to see that he’s waiting patiently for an answer. So is everyone else, so you need to hurry up and think. What’s an aspect of District Four that you like a lot?

“It’s not that hard of a question, (Y/n).”

“It is since you took away everything I was going to say, so shush and let me think for a moment.” you tell him, he laughs a little.

He looks away from you, to the water. You look over too, hoping that this will give you some ideas, but it only stresses you out some more. Water, friends and family. You’ve never known a life outside of Four, so how would you know your favorite parts until you’re homesick?

Oh, wait. That’s wrong, you do know a life outside of Four. You’ve lived almost three weeks away from it now. Family and friends still seem to be the first two, and that’s because you’ve never lived without them. They’re your lifelines, if you never talked to them again, you’d crumble.

You sigh, rubbing your forehead, “Ugh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, there has to be something.” Blaire says, “You’re telling me that those three things are such a big deal to you?”

“Yes.” you stretch, looking over at him, “Without family and friends, I’d be lonely. As for water… well, it’s not like it’s entirely that important but that’s basically everyone’s life. You take away that from District Four, and you’re useless.”

He hums, “Says a lot.”

You squint at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but Blaire doesn’t bother.

“My favorite part about District Three is the community. Everyone there is friendly, and if I ever need something, they’ll help.” He looks at you now, “And I mean when I’m actually there, and not here. We’re pretty poor too.”

You laugh. You guess community is pretty important too, but you’ve only experienced so much. What he’s referencing, is the district as a whole, or the part that he’s living in. And furthering that, would be his class. He says that District Three is pretty poor too, but it’s a lot better than Four. 

In fact, they’re right up there with One and Two. They might not be favored by the sponsors, but they’re certainly liked by the Capitol. They provide the technology, everything that the Capitol uses that the districts can’t, all comes from them. 

You’d say it’s almost insulting to you, and to his district, calling them poor. But you don’t say anything, and the smile fades from your face. You trace a seashell pattern into the sand, and wish that it were real. It would be useless to have, but at least it would be comforting to run your thumb over the grooves. 

Yes, community is important, and the only example you can think of, is the one you’re prominently in. The poor circle, one so bad that you become regulars to The Square, an intimidating place that rich people hardly ever dare to go to. It smells, and it’s loud, and it’s hard to understand the vendors because of their accents and scratchy voices.

The first time you went was with your brothers and dad. Alyssum wasn’t with you guys because she was still at Naida’s. The trip to The Square was made for soap and cheap food. Your brothers were old enough, had navigated the place plenty of times. You were new, the place was easy to get lost in. Your dad held your hand tightly and you didn’t bother to tell him when it hurt.

The vendors recognized your father, nodding at him in acknowledgment but not speaking unless he stopped. When he got to the soap table, you met the old woman that you’d be going to for the rest of your life. She gave your father his regulars without a word, and exchanged the cash.

It was only when you turned to walk away, when she caught sight of you. She made a small comment, something about finally being able to see you, and you gave her a small wave and kept on walking, not wanting to be dragged along. Other vendors seemed to do the same, noticing you, some taking note.

Only months later, when your father died, would you be put in charge of going to The Square. You were the same age, twelve, just a half added onto it. The place was still scary, and you didn’t know your way around it still, but since you had started regularly going with your father to the warehouse, people began to recognize you too.

You had been caught at the door, off to the side while you stared in. Where to go? You couldn’t seem to remember the path to the nice, old lady who sold to your father many times over. And you didn’t want to start wandering. So, you stood and stared for a while, slowly watching as the place cleared out.

You wanted to cry because you knew that the time was almost up. Once vendors closed for the day, that was it. And if their supply was gone, you’d have to wait until they had more. The old woman only supplied once a week. It was that day, or go a week without soap.

You were about to ask someone around you where to go, when she came through the crowd, the bag in her hand. People cleared the way for her because otherwise they’d be elbowed. You watched as she walked all the way up to you. She gave you the bag, you gave her the money.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” She asked, referring to other tables.

“I don’t think so.” You said back, and she nodded.

“I’ll meet you here in two weeks.” She said, and then turned around and left.

She made it easy for you. Always meeting you at the door, until you went to go find her one day. It wasn’t as hard as you thought, the people around her directed you to her, and muscle memory served you right. She was happy to see you get there, safe and sound. And when you asked her where the soup man was, she gave you simple directions.

You’re on good terms with almost everyone in The Square. People you could trust if you ever got down. There have been countless times where you’ve been given free meals. Whether it was because of pity because of what happened to your parents, or because you managed to earn a great deal of respect, it didn’t really matter. 

All that really does, is that if your friends and family all died, you wouldn’t be left with nothing. You’d be left with a bunch of people that have watched you grow, from being Reed and Mox’s sister, to (Y/n). 

Blaire’s right about community, just for all the wrong reasons.

“What’s your least favorite part about Three?” You ask him, “You can’t say family, friends, technology or community.”

You realize that it’s bitter, and almost an attack. You want to go back to the cornucopia now, but if you do, you’ll be facing Allio. He might not know of your plan, but he might see the guilt in your face. You’ll wait to face him until later. Maybe you’ll part with Blaire now, and just take a walk for a while. 

Blaire doesn’t answer. If he’s thinking, he doesn’t have any expressions. He chews slowly, staring at the silverware that’s the gift had too. As if for just one moment, you two will stop being savaged children and regular teenagers. 

“I don’t.” Blaire says.

“I don’t believe you. Even the most positive person in the world has dislikes about where they live. It’s in our nature.” You look at Blaire, “You’re no exception.” You start packing, leaving all the food to him, “Make it last.” You say, because you’re going to be hung up on this. And there’s no guarantee that you’ll see him tomorrow.

“What did I say?” Blaire asks, right before you’re about to leave.

You pause, looking at the seashell outline. It’s a wonder how many people in District Three believe they’re poor. Of course, all the districts have their own culture, and therefore their own definition of things. But still, you look at Blaire.

“District Three is rich compared to Four.” you’re going to leave it on that, but stop again, “Tomorrow is your hiding day. Pray we don’t find you.”

You get back to the cornucopia much faster this time, being sure to come up the side you used to walk up on before things had gone wrong at the pond. Your allies are sitting around, preparing the rabbits, and thank you for coming back early because they wanted water.

You hand it over, say that you’re going to take a nap because you’re exhausted from walking back and forth in the heat. It’s mostly a lie, until you lie down in the sand, and you find it easy to close your eyes and sleep. At least this will keep you from being tired later on tonight.

Trink wakes you up, telling you that the food is ready. You sit by the fire, crossing your legs. You let Allio grab what he wants from the rabbit first, and then go ahead and get your own. While you’re eating from the sheet of plastic, you remember that the pond is drained.

You look at Lennox. If they do want to go out looking for the tribute that supposedly killed Allio, tomorrow. Then the first stop is going to be the pond, because you’re going to need more water. You want to keep quiet about the waterfall, which doesn’t leave any options.

“I don’t think the pond is good to drink from anymore.”

You’ve got all their attention at once. Allio doesn’t bother to ask why, teeth sinking into the cooked meat. But Lennox and Trink are more apprehensive. It’s the only source of water that they know of. To have that be gone, would mean to die from dehydration. Tomorrow, your three days start.

“Why? What’s the matter with it?” Trink asks.

You shake your head slightly, looking down, “It was drained, there is no shallow end, only deep. I nearly scooped up water in the canteen before the sponsor gift came through.”

Lennox clenches his jaw, and releases, “Let me guess, full of clean water?”

You nod, “One bottle for each of us.”

“Fuck.” Trink runs a hand through her hair, “We walked for days and found nothing.”

“Is it possible to drink salt water?” Allio asks.

You press your lips together. What a stupid question. That’s basically the first thing you learned as a kid. Surely, they learned that in their special training academies too. If you drink salt water, you’re just going to end up thirstier. Why does he think you’ve been going down to the pond everyday? For shits and giggles.

The others must be thinking the same thing too, because they’ve got a look on their face. Glad to know that they have common sense. Proves even more why Allio should be the one to go, and not them.

“Outright, no.” Trink says, “Even if we boil the water… there’s no guarantee.”

“Don’t you think you should’ve told us this before we drank as much as we did?” Lennox asks, his face is flushed. It might be from the heat, maybe because he’s a little mad now.

“It’s better not to ration out water.” you say, “Drink what you have, hopefully our sponsors will give us more. If not, we’ll try and find some more. It’s not that hard.”

“I want to see the pond.” Lennox says, “Tomorrow, I’ll go with you.”

You shrug, he can come with you all he wants. The fact of the matter is, the water isn’t going to be good either way. He can feel free to grab it if he wants, saves you a lot of trouble in the future. He’ll get killed by the water creature, or end up slowly dying because of the poisonous water. Or, none of it at all because the distance between the water and the top of the pond is too great.

“Sounds like a plan. But we’ll still have to find another source.” you say.

“We could try walking to the left, instead of the right?” she offers, “Don’t you remember how the island seemed to widen out, over there? What if there’s a stream or something?”

“So close to the beach?”

“It’s better than nothing.” you agree. Direct them to the left of the cornucopia, keeping them away from the waterfall. You doubt that the gamemakers will just sprout a stream out of nowhere, it’s never that easy.

Trink manages to lift spirits again, you all play the game that you’ve been playing for a while to pass the time. There’s no faces in the sky tonight, but there will be tomorrow. You go ahead and call it a night with the rest of them after putting out the fire, because it’s the last thing you need in the already hot night air.

The moment you lay down in your bed, you can feel your heart pick up. This is how you will lay for a couple of hours, waiting for Trink and Lennox to fall asleep first. They’re the ones you’re worried about. You think you’ll be able to kill Allio just fine, awake or not if he’s not expecting it. Sleep would be preferable, though.

The plan will work if you follow it and don’t try to do anything extra. You’ll have to work quickly, killing Allio and then making a jump for your bed. The gamemakers will likely send the canon off immediately, since that’s what happens with deaths. They don’t delay them, no matter how much they like the tribute.

You can’t let anyone down. Not the Capitol, not the people back home. Your brothers will be awake and waiting for the moment you pounce. The more you think about them, the worse your heart problem becomes. You take slow breaths, trying to even out the heartbeats.

You can hear Allio moving, trying to find a spot that’s comfortable. The sound of faraway sand shifting is the giveaway that it’s him. You’ve found out that Lennox and Trink hardly move a lot in their sleep, it’s mainly Allio. You resist a yawn and grip your knife a little tighter. 

You drift off for a while, the warmth of the arena feels like a warm blanket in winter. You don’t want to leave your bed, and you want to stay there forever until District Four warms up again. You aren’t sick, you aren’t necessarily tired, and with Alyssum still asleep, you might as well try before your brothers come in.

Maybe Reed will let you stay home today.

A snore-like sound breaks the comfortable silence, you sit up with a jolt, a gasp stuck in your throat while you stare into the air. To your left, Trink and Lennox seem to be asleep. When you had taken watch two days ago, you figured out a pattern with them. Lennox sighs every time he breathes out, and Trink is always on the verge of snoring. Guess tonight is different.

As for Allio, he’s sat up where he was before, only now his mouth is half-open, head fallen to the side. He’s asleep, and if you could take a guess, you think it’s still today, maybe on the verge of tomorrow. You’re lucky you didn’t sleep through the night, otherwise you’d missed your opportunity.

You take a deep breath, your heart is beginning to beat again. You tuck your knife into your back pocket while you silently get up from where you were sleeping. The sand shifts quietly, you pick where you step carefully, knowing that new dips in the sand could be a giveaway.

Around the fire you go, you’ll probably have to act quickly. For now, you crouch down in front of him, pulling your knife from your back pocket. You look to the left to check up on the other two, both of their backs are more or less turned away from where you are. And back to Allio, he’s still asleep.

You have to be quick. Every movement you make after this is permanent, and it’ll decide what happens next. You hold your breath, white-knuckling the handle of the knife, while your other hand hovers over his hair. Your hands are shaking. 

This can’t be hard. You’ve killed four other people before him. Just go for it.

Then again, the other four were for survival, except for Eytelle. This is different, you’re backstabbing and risking your life. Leave the cornucopia and come back with a fresh mind. This is a turning point, you can’t come back from this. You fuck up and you’re dead! Who’s to say that this will even work?

What will everyone think? What will your brother’s think? What is everyone back home thinking? The people in The Square who used to call you a sweet girl. She’ll be gone, those words will never leave their tongues again. You’ll be called a liar, and people will turn you away.

Forget everything else, the only people you’ll have is your brothers and family friends. You’ll never leave your house again. Shut the shutters and never leave, not even for school. You’ll be just like the other victors, quiet and like smoke, as if you’re not there at all. As if you were a waste of a win.

This is not how you go home. 

You’re about to retract, to cancel the plan entirely. But Allio stirs, eyes barely opening, and you panic. Before he can make any noise, you’re taking care of it. A fistful of his hair in one hand, the hard stab of a knife with the other. His eyes are wide now, mouth open as if he’s going to scream. 

He’s dead.

You scramble, feeling the clock ticking in your head. You have seconds before the cannon, turning around and placing your hand square into the campfire. Your hand feels like it’s been lit on fire, you have to grit your teeth and throw yourself over. The cannon sounds just as you hit the sand near your bed.

You just barely manage to shove the knife beneath the box at your feet before turning over. Without missing a beat, you close your eyes and shove your hands into your pants. Your left hand flares with another lit fire feeling, but you wipe them onto your underwear anyway. You can’t have bloody hands. 

When you pull them out, you place your right hand between your legs and the other beneath your armpit. Your hand is not liking the pressure, and the pain is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

It feels like forever, waiting for Lennox and Trink to wake up. But they do, you can hear the quiet murmurs between them, and you struggle to even out your breathing to mimic sleeping. It’s fine if you make it fine. It’s fine if you don’t overreact. 

“Allio?” Lennox whispers, you don’t move. If you slept through the cannon, you’ll sleep through his talking, “Is he awake?”

“Don’t know.” Trink murmurs, “I don’t think either of them are awake.”

Lennox sighs, you think. More shifting sand, like a crunch beneath his shoes as he moves towards Allio. You feel a gentle shake of your shoulder, and decide that now is the time. You turn over, eyebrows drawing in, squinting at Trink, who’s barely over you.

“Hmm?” you hum, hoping that she buys it.

She does, an apology rolling off her tongue, “Sorry, there was a cannon.”

“Oh.” you sit up, pulling your hand out from between your legs, it’s clean. As for your left hand, you keep it hidden, not wanting questions, “When? Just now?”

“Yeah.”

You look at Allio, and Lennox seems to be struggling to see, “Can someone light a fire?”

“I’ve got it.” you say, moving to the campfire. You lean over it, and with a cringe, place your left hand on the still-smoldering wood. You hiss, yanking your hand back, “Shit.”

“I’ll do it.” Trink takes the firestarter from you, and with a couple of tries, manages to spark a flame on the same wood that hurt you.

It isn’t long before the flames are brightening up the area around you. The heat from the fire is making your hand all the more miserable, but it’s your fault that it happened in the first place.

All three of you freeze at the sight of Allio.

Like a sack of potatoes, he’s sunk, chin pressed against his upper chest. His hair falls forward, like a curtain to mask his face. Lennox is apprehensive, as if he wants to move Allio, but can’t bring himself to do it. He grabs the hair on the right side, and then quickly pulls away once he realizes his hand is wet.

“He’s dead.” Lennox says quietly at first, and then repeats it louder, as if the two of you didn’t hear it the first time, “He’s dead!”

Your eyes dart to the outside, and they seem to do the same.

“Do you think someone snuck in?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we thought that.”

“What if they’re close?” 

“We need to get out there, now.” Lennox seethes, wiping his hand against his jeans, getting up and heading for his sword.

You and Trink follow suit, you’re just glad to have an escape route. You and Lennox grab backpacks, as well as your swords and what’s left of the water, moving out to look. Lennox grabs one of Allio’s arms, and you grab the other, dragging him out so he can be collected. After that, Lennox is fueled to go and search the woods behind the cornucopia.

The hovercraft does come, picking up his body and leaving. If anyone had been bothered to watch, they’re going to know that you guys just lost someone, or it’s another tribute that was dumb enough to try you four. Out back, you three wander far and long enough to reach the pond.

Lennox stands over the gaping hole, you don’t get as close. You can’t tell if there’s a black mass in there, and it shouldn’t matter anyway. If the gamemakers are draining it, it’s time to find a new source and not dilly dally on it.

“Fuck!” Lennox shouts, slamming his hand into the nearest tree.

You break off a chunk of dirt with the nose of your shoe and watch as it falls and falls and falls until it finally hits what sounds like a puddle. A piercing feeling of fear strikes your heart, and you back away, that is deep enough to be a well. And the mutt could be climbing up the walls.

What’s even worse, is that it’s too dark to tell and too deep to see. You regroup with Lennox and Trink, keeping an eye on what used to be the pond. You think you might get away with this.

“The sun is going to rise in a few hours. Let’s get back to the cornucopia, sleep in shifts, and come out here when we can see.” Trink says, she’s giving you a look, trying to tell you to keep back while she places her hand on Lennox’s shoulder, “We don’t want to get lost out here. We’ll get justice.”

He doesn’t say anything, just starts walking back towards the cornucopia. None of you fill the silence. Another hour wasted as you get back. When you get there, Lennox positions himself onto a box in the mouth of the cornucopia, sword in hand, fire still blazing. You and Trink sleep.

When the sun rises, Lennox is waking you for your turn. He tells you that if the tribute comes back, yell and don’t kill them straight away. He’s got a plan for them. You give him a hard nod, and take a seat where he was before. The fire is gone, and soon, Lennox stiffly returns to his sighing.

You did it. Allio is gone, and they’re not suspecting of you so far. The real problem that you’re facing right now is how to get water. You can’t go to the waterfall, after Anchor warning you away from it yesterday afternoon, you think that you won’t test it again. And bringing the others to it will undoubtedly, of course, raise questions.

You can’t keep banking on the hope of sponsor gifts, so there needs to be another solution, now. The more the sun rises and begins to take its place in the sky, the more you begin to realize that today is going to be another hot day, maybe even worse. Sitting inside of the cornucopia is the equivalent of being inside of an oven. But going out there and wandering might be worse.

Either way, you sit and wait until you’re sure that it’s early lunch time. By then, Trink is pretty awake, so she gets Lennox up, and it’s time to get out there. You apply some of the healing cream from the first day, and have Trink wrap your hand up for you. It doesn’t feel super good, but you hope by the time you take the bandage off, it’ll be fairly healed.

Before you go, you swipe a knife off of the back wall, and slide the new one into the special place of the old one. After that, you’re leaving into the woods, putting in as much effort as they are. You find nothing in the first section of the woods in front of the cornucopia, and move to the left side.

Trink catches a rabbit, you tie it to your backpack, and keep moving. It’s another hour or so of thoroughly searching the area, before moving onto the right side, which is when it starts getting dense and huge. You look in as many places as possible, directing them away from the waterfall, and when they’re bored of the right side, it’s straight to the back.

And this is the side that you guys walked for hours and found nothing. You quickly pass the pond, not daring to peer into it this time. Lennox mutters something about it being bullshit, and it’s only an hour or so more of walking up against the right cliff, when there’s a faint sound of water.

The three of you nearly can’t contain yourselves, coming upon a stream like this. Without a single word exchanged, you fill up your empty canteens. They don’t want to wait for it to clean, and drink it straight out. You go ahead and put the iodine drops in, and feel glad that the stream had appeared out of nowhere.

It’s two and a half hours away from the cornucopia, too long of a walk to make back and forth. Too far away for them to hear your screams, and who knows how many miles? All that matters is that it’s unrealistic if they genuinely think that you’ll be making this trip everyday. Still, you agree and consider going to the waterfall anyway.

After drinking two or three bottles of water, you’re all getting back to it, and find nothing but a couple of rabbits for tonight and tomorrow’s dinner. They think the murderer has gotten away, and that’s fine by you. You suggest going tomorrow, if the arena isn’t super hot, and they agree to the idea. And just like that, you’re off the hook.

Back at the cornucopia, you skin the rabbits carefully, since your hand isn’t in the best shape. Trink starts the fire, and helps cook them on large rocks you’d all collected from the stream. In absolutely no time, it’s cooked and ready to be eaten. The moment that you pull the new knife out to cut and divide the pieces--not wanting to make yourself sick--they stop.

“Is that a new knife?” Trink asks, you raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I lost the other one. I tried looking for it during my watch, but found nothing. Figured I’d grab a new one.”

She hums, and you eat. The sun sets quicker than it had risen, and before you know it, the blue hologram in the sky is appearing. The anthem is loud, and everyone that isn’t you three, are probably on the edge of their seats, watching and waiting to see who it is. You bet that there are a few fingers crossed that it’s a career.

And lucky enough for them, it is. Allio’s face appears, District Two beneath his face, and he seems to linger a little longer than the rest. The anthem finishes promptly, and then the hologram is gone with the noise. You help the others clean up, and then stay up as long as possible to keep Lennox company before he takes the night.

When you and Trink are far too tired to stay up any longer, you settle into your spots. You stick your knife blade-down into the sand, and sleep with your back to Lennox. And even though you’re a little paranoid that you’re onto you, you sleep like a baby.

In the morning, you gear up for the trip down to the stream by yourself, there will be no hunting today. It’s still hot, not as much as yesterday, but it’s still miserable. Both of them offer to come with you, but you tell them that you’ll be fine. They say they’ll cook tonight’s dinner, and you leave right after.

You walk all the way to the pond, but keep far away from the hole. Testing fate is fun only so many times in a row, and she’s bound to snap if you keep doing it. You wait for a while, picking at the grass and peeling bark from the tree while thinking. Yesterday must have been the family interviews.

You can’t imagine what your brother’s must’ve said about you, after a performance like that. Caesar probably asked them if they expected that from you, that sweet girl that everyone says you are. Reed probably lied straight through his teeth, “Yes, we all did. (Y/n) is smart, there’s no doubt about that. She’s been the most impressive tribute I’ve seen in a while.”

And Mox will agree to it, if he isn’t quiet and crying. He’ll back it up, say that you had confidence when you all parted, and he knows that you’re going to win. Hype you up to get more sponsors. They’re not stupid enough to downplay what you can and can’t do.

As for Naida’s family, it’s all the same. Every single one of them will lie, and hopefully you’ll get a boost because of it. 

It’s not that long now. Only seven more tributes. If a few more go naturally, then it’ll be even lower than that. By then, you’ll probably have to disband the alliance, but at least you would have ridden it until it was burnt out. 

“Good afternoon.”

You jump out of your skin, hand on your knife. Blaire’s approaching, there’s purple circles beneath his eyes. He probably stayed up all night to make sure that you guys wouldn’t find him last night or yesterday. And it probably would have been smart for him to hide today too, but it’s whatever.

“Hey.” you greet, “Your plan went off without a hitch, smart thinking.”

“And you’re okay?” he asks, but his eyes are on your bandaged hand.

You applied more cream before you left, got a new bandage to make sure you wouldn’t get infected. It seems to be speeding up the healing process, but you’re not entirely sure. You’re no doctor, and there’s no telling the limits of the cream that they sent you.

“Burnt my hand, but that’s the only downfall.” you push yourself to your feet, “Pond is completely gone, sponsors aren’t reliable. Either we can walk all the way to the small stream an hour and a half away, or we can walk to the waterfall, which is also an hour away.”

“Let’s go for the waterfall.” Blaire says, “I’m out of water.”

“Here, then.” you pull off the canteen, handing it over, “Drink up, we’ll get more soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He drinks the rest of it, and you throw the strap over your shoulder. On the way to the waterfall is filled with questions on how it went. You try your best to answer those questions, but avoid what was going through your head and how you almost backed out. You want the Capitol to think of you as confident in your abilities, and that’s impossible when they know you had doubts.

Blaire’s happy that it went with no problems, but the two of you know that you have to be careful for a while after this. There’s no question about it. A small slip up is all it will take before you’re in trouble. With how mad Lennox was, he’ll probably kill you on sight, something you don’t need.

You approach the waterfall, and assuming that since there wasn’t a warning this time around, you should be fine. While Blaire fills up the canteen, you catch him a fish. The two of you trade things, gulp down water, and get more. You sit with him at the water, not being able to bring yourself to care about the tribute that leaves around here.

It isn’t until you dip your right hand into the water, when you watch the water turn a light shade of pink. Your hand is still stained with blood. You go as far as you can to scrub off the blood and dirt, and by the time you get to your elbows, you realize that there’s a much faster process.

“Don’t stare at me.” you tell Blaire, pulling off your shirt. He looks away, towards the forest, and eventually down at his fish as he picks off scales. You shed your shirt, shoes, socks and pants and you get into the water.

You ignore your underwear, since there isn’t anything you can do about it. They’re black anyway, they’re not showing any red color, much less crusty because of the blood. It looks like a bulk of the blood ended up on your thighs and stomach anyway. So, you rub your skin for as long as possible, until the water stops running a tinted color.

After that, you pull your hair out of your ponytail, and place your head into the water, scrubbing out the dirt and grease the best you can. It feels good to itch your head, but you know it’ll just be a downhill from here. You pull your hair back up, and squeeze out a lot of water, letting the excess drip onto your back, because it’s cold and feels nice.

You get dressed again, and even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for… two weeks? You feel much cleaner. Once you win the games, you’ll finally be able to take a shower and scrub away the layers of dirt that are embedded into your skin at this point.

“(Y/n)?” Blaire asks, looking at you now.

“Yes?” you stretch, you have to get moving now, get back to the cornucopia before they think you bailed.

“I’m sorry about what I said the other day, I didn’t think--”

You shake your head, “Don’t sweat it, you helped me plot and basically execute a murder. I owe you a big thank you, anyway.”

“Right.” he says, getting to his feet, “Time to go back?”

“Yup.” you gather your things, and the two of you start towards the cornucopia.

You try to tell him a couple of times that he’s free to leave when he wants, but he wants to keep you company. So, the entire way to the cornucopia, you’re telling him that you hope the games don’t go on for too much longer, and he agrees. It’s tiring, it feels like it’s been too long already. You miss home.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You tell him, “At the pond, but don’t get close to it. The water’s completely gone and it’s super deep.”

“Oh.” he says, “Where’s that stream, by the way?”

You pause, thinking about it. Then, you turn towards where he’d be walking, “It’s like a two and a half hour walk from here. Keep towards the right side, eventually you should hear water.”

“Alright.” he says, and before he lets you go, he pulls you into a side-hug.

At first, you’re sure this is a plot to kill you, especially after just asking where the stream is. You stiffen up, fully prepared to swing your sword. But after a small squeeze, he gives you a smile, “Be safe.” and walks away.

You stand for a moment, staring at him because you’re surprised that he hugged you, and then just walked away just like that. A small smile breaks over your face soon after, and you head towards the cornucopia, a little giddy. You were already happy when you saw Blaire earlier this morning, but a hug before he went was even better.

You were totally prepared for him to try and kill you, which is ridiculous, as if he’d ever try something like that on you. Blaire has proven to be a good friend, and you have too. Although, you have to admit you’re pretty stiff sometimes when it comes to him, but honestly, you didn’t see him as your friend at first. You thought he was Finnick’s.

As you get closer to the cornucopia, you can hear a low muttering. You go ahead and tell Lennox and Trink that it’s you, and they get a little quieter. As you round the corner, you toss the backpack in, because it’s heavy and you’re ready to lift the feeling from your shoulders.

You’re not even a step inside yourself, when two hands grab a hold on your shoulders, and slam you so hard into the cornucopia wall, that you feel the breath leave your lungs. You struggle for a moment, and just barely get a lungful of air in, when his forearm slams against your windpipe. 

You weren’t choking before, you are now. You wrap your fingers around his arm, dropping your sword and trying to pull his arm off. You open your mouth, wanting to form words and speak to get through to him, but it’s worthless.

They know.

“You thought that you’d get away with it, huh?” Lennox asks, you watch him draw his arm back, hand formed in a fist. You’re wincing before he’s even thrown it, trying to turn your face away from him.

He slams his fist into your cheekbone, making an ache form in your teeth. The pain is duly hot, blooming across your upper cheek and downward like it’s trickling. Like blood. He lets you free now, and you immediately gasp, hands shaking and wanting to touch the idea he’d just hit.

Before you can get up and try to run, he’s grabbing the hem of your shirt, yanking you back up and this time, slams his hand into your nose. It’s much more painful. Hearing the snap and feeling the sharp pain, and the blood rushing out and down your lips.

“Killing Allio? You’re not as smart as you think.” he says, drawing his foot back.

Behind him, you can see Trink. In her hand, held out in her palm, is the bloody knife you used to kill Allio. You manage to catch a glimpse of what used to be your bed, and it’s completely torn up from them searching it. 

Lennox lands the kick, and a scream is leaving your lips, fingers fumbling to the area. Another stabbing pain, a broken rib? It hurts, and you struggle to control the tears, still trying to flee the cornucopia. There’s a familiar taste of copper and dirt in your mouth, either blood from your nose or you bit your tongue in your haste to scream.

“Found the knife you murdered him with.” he says, and just as you begin to crawl in the sun-baked sand, he grabs your ankle with two hands, yanking you back inside, “It was pretty easy, after you said you lost it.”

No, no, no, no.

You open your mouth, ready to plead, and he raises his eyebrows in expectation, ready for you to do it too. He crouches over your body, hand cupped around his ear, “What was that, bitch?”

You decide that you will not plead for your life. You muster up all the saliva and blood you can, and send it flying into his eyes. He’s pissed now, you can see that. He swipes it from his eyes, and stands up. Without another word, he swings his foot into your chest hard. You can feel another rib break, and it’s enough to make the tears spill over.

Lennox looks like he’s going to do it again, and you’re ready for another broken rib, when he changes it up, and slams his foot straight into your temple.

Static in your brain, loud ringing in your ears.

It’s a numbness, falling back against the sand, a garbled moan leaving you. Lennox is saying something that you can’t hear. You feel bad for Reed and Mox. Their baby sister is about to get her ass rightfully handed to her. Fifteen years on this earth and the last three were spent in an arena fighting for her life every waking moment.

If only you could kiss Alyssum goodnight one more time.

There’s a pressure on your throat again, enough to barely get you out of your daze. You reach up, pushing his head away from you, hoping that it’ll be good enough, but he seems to pin you down easily, both hands beneath one of his. While the other is on your throat.

You can’t breathe.

You hold your breath, because you don’t have much of a choice. You vaguely remember the fighting expert back in the Training Center having a way to escape this. You can’t recall what it is exactly, and at this point, does it matter? With Lennox’s body on yours, he’s putting pressure on your stomach that’s rising to your ribs. It’s making it harder not to breathe.

Lennox is saying something about mangling your body beyond repair. Ripping apart your ‘pretty face’ enough to the point where your own family won’t be able to recognize you after this. And you can’t help but to think, “Great, another memorable grave to add to the family.” since your fathers is empty, with no body recovered from the sea.

He moves a little to the right, where they both are, and you’re screaming again, bucking your hips. It hits you then. Lennox laughs at you, because you’re just another one of his prey. It reminds you of when he’d killed the boy from Six, the predatory look in his eyes. It’s just the same here.

Lennox said it himself, he was going to make the murderer of Allio pay, and you are definitely not an exception.

You slam your hips upward again, and it’s enough momentum to flip you on top of him. You can hear movement on both sides, one of them being Trink, you think. But your eyes are on Lennox, he’s the real threat here. You reach for your knife, fumbling to get it out of your belt. 

Lennox sees, and just as you get it out, he slips it from your fingers. There’s a triumphant look on his face, and your first thought is; “I lose.” He slams the knife into your stomach, all the way down to the hilt, similar to what you’d done to Allio. 

“No!” you hear, and you slip off of Lennox, fingers slipping to the new wound, adding to the others. When you pull your hand away, you can see the crimson red blood, bright as taunting.

You’re dying.

A body slams into Trink first, knocking her off her feet. It’s a blur, watching as the person returns to their feet and jumps onto Lennox now, landing blow after blow. Suddenly the face turns to you, and you can see it’s Blaire, “Go!” he shouts, “Run!”

“Thank you.” you say, at least you think you do. You can’t tell anymore. 

You reach for your sword, knowing it’s heavy but you need a crutch. You’re about to say it’s good, and you won’t be able to carry anything else, with two broken ribs, wobbly knees and a knife sticking out of your stomach. But if you manage to get out of this, you’re going to need more.

You just barely get the backpack over your shoulder. Trink moves forward to take you down, but Blaire, with the strength of three total football players from back home, takes her down and throws her on top of Lennox. Blaire glances at you one last time that you know of, and then you’re out of sight.

Dragging your feet through the sand is too hard. You thought that running through it on the first day was hard, this is more difficult. You just barely make it into the trees in a minute before the ground barely evens out. You move faster, but it’s not by much. If the others knew where to run, they’d catch up with you easily.

You hope Blaire makes it out alive. You knew he thought he owed you, but you never thought that he’d sacrifice his life for you.

The more you move, the more your legs seem to give out, and you’re having to lean onto the sword more and more. You contemplate pulling the knife out several times over, knowing that it’ll maybe make you move faster. But you’ll bleed out quickly, it’ll just make it all the much worse.

Black spots begin to eat up at the corner of your vision, the heat of the arena feels like you’re residing in hell. Your legs are heavy, balls chained to your ankles as you barely pull your feet through thickets of poison ivy. You can’t go much further, but you have to keep moving. The moment you stop is the moment you claim where your memorial spot is going to be.

Deep breaths, you clench your burned hand off and on to try and keep yourself awake. The pain is mild compared to what’s going on everywhere else. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a tribute in worse condition.

You don’t know how long you wander, but it’s far enough for you to be hidden, you think. You raise your foot again, leaning on the sword. You can’t catch yourself when you place it down, your ankle completely giving out. You hit the ground on your left side first, before rolling onto your back.

This is it. This is where you die. In the middle of the forest, bloody and bruised and small and young. You were never made for this arena. Whatever chance you thought you had, has now been blown. You did it, (Y/n). You fucked up a predictable situation.

And now your brother’s get to watch you die. 

You’ll get your own tourist location, and go down as the fifteen year old that took down a lot of people before she died herself. People might think of you as impressive, and other younger tributes might strive to be you. Might.

You close your eyes, tears gathering. 

At least you get to die to the sound of running water. The sound of home.

[bittybattybunny]

You know what? This has been on the back of my mind for awhile, but PLEASE EITHER POST A LINK TO YOU GOING OF ABOUT YOUR SOUL EATER WORLD BUILDING HEADCANONS, OR RAMBLE AWAY HERE BECAUSE I WANT TO HEAR YOU TALK, ESPECIALLY SINCE PART OF ME WANTS TO KNOW WHY YOU LOVE THE TRASH SWORD!!!!!!???????

KLFSJKFJKDSFKFD

THIS

THIS IS NOT THE ASK I AS EXPECTING TO GET

UMM

UUHHH

I DONT HAVE IT ANYWHERE ONLINE ABOUT WHY I LOVE HIM UM

I NEVER

THOUGHT SOMEONE WOULD ACTUALLY WANT TO KNOW??? UM UM IDK IF I CAN PUT IT ALL IN LIKE ONE POST??? IT'S UM

well, I have a lot of headcanons but the long-short is I just think he’s neat.

Um alright so since you specifically asked tho about Excalibur I can ramble a lil on my thoughts on him??

Alright buckle up; I have no idea how long this will get. Please understand I have been a member of the soul eater fandom since yen plus started translating it into English.

I do not really interact with the fandom (not really sure why I never did/do. I guess it’s just cuz when I got into the fandom I didn’t really have access to fandom spaces and by the time I did I wasn’t really sure about it.)

however, I have cosplayed as both Eurka Frog (and I met Todd Haberkorn!!! I chased him to an elevator and threw a fanart at him and then ran away. I did get him to sign a piece the next day. he’s super nice. I am very distressed I missed a chance to get a signed piece by Troy Baker and I really cannot express how upset I am by this. Like honest to god I am so upset. I had been in line I was ready I was so pumped-- and then my friend was like hey let's go he has a thing tomorrow you can do it then and like an idiot, I did and guess what wasn’t the next day? a troy baker signing. Sighs. He’s not been at any cons I've attended since so I’m so disheartened I will never get my annoying sword autograph) As well as Maka Albarn (IDK if I posted photos or not but I think it’s on my cosplay blog or on twitter)

Anyhow onto Excalibur and why I think he’s a pretty neat character.

We’re going into a read more cuz this is LONGGGGGG

Also Obviously I am going into spoiler territory

I pull info from both the anime and manga when it comes to my personal SE HCs. This is more evident in my Shinigami-Sama/Kishin headcanons but I’ll save those for another post if there’s actually an interest in it (as well as my Chrona is a Genie hc. that one is a shorter HC but yeah.) My friends who’ve sat and listened to me (and my sister who knows the show but isn't invested like I am. Like fun fact is even tho I don't do much fanart; anytime I see soul eater cosplayers or merch I like to get it.) say I’m pretty convincing so lol.

So Excalibur as a whole is set up to be this hella annoying, talks over you, egotistical, member of the great old ones, warlord of anger, most powerful weapon.

(ﺧ益ﺨ) 

in both the anime and manga he’s shown to always seem to stick to the same points when he talks. His legend begins in the 12th-century blah blah.

And his ridiculous list to become his meister.

Which set him up to be as you put “trash sword”

But I think it actually helps open something up.

So I, myself am a rambler when I’m nervous or excited. I will reiterate points when I’m frightened or upset (for my I tend to ramble on stupid factoids like octopus or my chronic illness)

And I kinda see this in Excalibur. Not a nervousness per se but that he’s purposely putting up a barrier between him and others.

He’s lonely.

He’s willing to cut down on the list of requirements for Kid and Black Star. Even with Ox he was asking to be taken. And He did partner with Hiro for a time.

He’s been in that cave for a long time. Since Asura pretty much.

How does a weapon who can pair to anyone and is as powerful as he is get shoved into a rock and left there just because he’s “annoying”

This always bugged me.

More so when we get moments later on when he’s like chatting with Death or Kid and he’s actually really serious. Like there’s no pretense, no interrupting. Like yes he does slightly interrupt when they aren’t listening or say something dumb but for the most part you see a completely different side to him.

This is what cemented in my head the fact the whole “annoying” bit is an act he does. He’s capable of emotions. He shows attachment to things like his legend.

Specifically that bit always made me think he really misses King Arthur. Like why else would he always fixate on that? like his legend begins sure but there’s more to it right? he never talks about his time with Shinigami and the old ones. Only his legend and then how he was such a wild child. but it lacks substance. The guy is over 800 years old there should be more he can ramble about.

So here’s where my headcanon takes a weird turn

but I think Excalibur.

Is the sorcerer Merlin.

A man born with a Grigori Soul and the ability to use magic. It’s shown Eibon and Excalibur tended to not get along. and Eibon based the demon weapons on Excalibur but wouldn’t tell him.

Excalibur isn’t counted as a demon weapon. he’s a holy sword.

There is no other record of a weapon like this.

I think Merlin, in an attempt to help his dear friend Arthur with his battles, turned himself into a powerful weapon to aide him. He’s an old one with the power of Madness of Anger. Anger can take many forms including possessive love. Wouldn’t it make sense for someone who knows they are strong to do everything they can for their loved one? I know I’ve been angry enough to kill for the ones I love. Like nothing makes me angrier than someone hurting someone i care about.

I think he was heartbroken to outlive the king. Clearly he doesn’t age and is super focused on the 12th century. I think it really hurt him.

Moving to another point

he’s selfish. Egotistical. but i think it’s another front. Like yes he has some pride obviously. But all his stories involve other people. Shouting fool at anyone who who deems worthy of the name.

People won’t care if you get hurt if you’re a dick.

You can’t get hurt if you aren’t close to people.

If not evidenced by my AHIT oc Eclipse and my baby Kai; I’m a sucker for self sacrificing in the name of love because you don’t see yourself worthy or love. (this is more self projecting than anything but I’m not gonna unpack that here)

I think Excalibur is the same way. he demands to walk in front of people. he wants to be the center of attention. But he won’t get close to others. He’ll take the burden on of being annoying and strong so people focus on him and others can sneak around.

So to sum up my personal headcanons:

Excalibur is a sorcerer named Merlin who had a powerful grigori soul and turned himself into a weapon to aide the man he was close to (and yes I’m 100% suggesting he had romantic feelings for Arthur. but Arthur was for Guinevere so he stood to the side and let them be) He plays up being an asshole because he doesn’t want to lose another person since he outlived Arthur.

Also i didn’t clarify the reason I say he has a grigori soul is due to the facts we know about them. Wings, Halo, purifying, rare. these traits are shared by Excalibur when he’s wielded. I think it’s a pretty cut and dry reason for why I say this ya know?

So Why do I like him?

I think he’s a character who gets written off as a joke superficially but when you sit and reread the manga or rewatch the anime and pay close attention to him; there’s actually a lot there to unpack and enjoy. I think he’s a deep character who puts up a front to protect himself but slowly warms up (I mean heck he’s clearly running around by the end of the manga. and people aren’t screaming)

So thanks for coming to my ted talk I love Excalibur and I don’t care if I’m the only one who does.

Also if curious, my fanstory “Fuller” which has my oc Mira and Excalibur as the main focus actually takes place post Manga and stuff.

Um I guess tho if you want to hear my two cents on anything else soul eater you can ask too I have a bunch of other theories like how Kishin are actually a race not just demonic souls and how soul types show there’s more in the world than we get shown (like look at Free. He’s an immortal werewolf. what’s up with that? and Maka had a Genie hunter during a resonance which means those exist and then there’s teh thing with witches and then blair is a weird existence and just. look. I have a lot of feelings for this even tho I don’t post much on it.)

I just love soul eater okay

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Five:

Keeping an eye on the classroom door, Steve rearranged the paints. Deciding to go by color and shade. When that task was over, he organized the paintbrushes by the width of the handles, and then by the width of the brushes. When that task was finished, he debated it for a moment before deciding to move the tables around.

Even though the small tables were easy to maneuver -- for the most part -- Steve still found it taxing. Soon, starting to sweat and developing labored breathing, he remove his cardigan in hopes of cooling down. Imagining it as a giant Tetris game, even if the design wasn't what he saw in his head.

Then, a throat clearing gained his attention. Stopping his rearranging project, Steve found Blaire's mom. What was her name? God, one would think that he'd remember it having been introduced that morning.

"Hi," she grinned, slowly entering the room.

Trying to catch his breath, Steve greeted, "Hi."

"Blaire's mom," she reminded, "Amy."

"Right," Steve nodded, "I remember."

Amy perked at that, "You do?"

Steve just blinked for a moment before nodding again. He should've known not to say that considering how she had checked him out earlier. Only, he figured that the rings would've clued her in that he was married. Happily so, to boot. Of course, he never understood why people seemed to be interested in him all of a sudden. He was still the scrawny man that he'd been since puberty. Well, looks wise, at least and growing up, he had been bullied relentlessly for being petite.

But he had a feeling that it had to do with him being good with kids. After all, whenever he saw Bucky interact with their children, it made him want to drag Bucky down to their bedroom and have his way with him. It was just something that made his, already irresistible husband, even more desirable.

And so, Steve figured that was the reason why parents often hit on him.

Gesturing over to the area with the kindergarten projects, Steve tried to steer the conversation to the neutral topic they were supposed to be discussing, "Blaire's handprint leaves are over there. She's very talented. A good student."

Amy nodded, but hardly moved. Instead, keeping Steve in sight. Tucking some of the orangey-red hair behind her ear, she flirted, "That's quite the compliment coming from you."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, brows furrowed.

"Just that you must be a talented artist yourself, or you wouldn't have been hired," Amy clarified.

Steve cheeks flamed a bright red and he hated it. Since Amy wasn't going over to the projects, he gestured towards his desk, "Is there something you'd like to discuss in regards to Blaire? Perhaps how she does with interacting with the other students? Or maybe how well she is at following instructions?"

"Okay," Amy eagerly agreed, taking a seat in the chair beside Steve's desk. It was the only other adult size chair, but Steve wished that he had moved it around to the front of the desk.

Taking his own seat, he opened his record book to the correct kindergarten class and ignored how Amy leaned into his personal space. Clearing his throat in hopes that she'd remove herself from his bubble, he focused on his notes. Even though it was all good things that he had pretty much simplified earlier.

"She's really a special little --"

"Is that your husband?" Amy interrupted.

Surprised, Steve stupidly glanced at the empty open doorway before he found her gaze trained on the photos on his desk. Smiling, Steve nodded, "Yeah. I'm very lucky."

"I'll say," she giggled, ogling the brunet in the camping photo where he had melted chocolate on his face and a toasted marshmallow on the roasting stick. To his right, Jonas sat and to his left, Luke. Behind them, Katie, Liz, and Tommy stood. On Katie's hip, Sophia grinned, showing off the missing teeth gaps.

"Who're the kids?" Amy innocently asked.

Lucky for her, it was Steve's favorite subject.

Grabbing the framed photo from his desk, he tilted it towards her. Starting right to left, Steve pointed at the older boy with the dark olive-brown complexion, "That's Jonas, our oldest. He's a sophomore in college," pointing at Jonas's biological brother, "That's Luke, he's a freshman in high school." Moving to the back row, he pointed to the teen girl with the freckled alabaster skin and fiery red hair akin to Amy's and Natasha's, "That's Katie, she's a freshman in college. She was valedictorian last year."

"Wow," Amy says, still looking at the picture.

"I know," Steve nodded. Pointing to their little girl with straight black hair and yellow-tinted white complexion and closed almond shaped eyes because she blinked, "That's Sophia. She's a second grader," moving on, Steve pointed to the older girl with the tawny, golden-brown skin and almond shaped eyes, he continued, "That's Liz. She moved to Maine to live with her forever family and is a freshman in college. She still occasionally calls." Finger landing on the boy with sandy blond hair and sun-kissed golden-white skin, "That's Tommy, he's in California with his forever family. He's a senior in high school."

Steve smiled down at the portrait before placing it back on his desk. It wasn't even all the kids that he and Bucky had fostered over the years, but it was one of his favorites. Just as the other ones on his desk. Especially one of Mimi Sarah and Nana Winnie baking with Ethan, Sophia, and Jonas. The young man proudly sporting one of Sarah's frilly, floral aprons while Ethan joyously held up matching oven-mitt clad hands. There was flour covering almost every surface, including themselves, but their smiles were all that mattered to Steve.

Much like how the portrait of Katie, Luke, and Ethan fishing with Pop Pop George and Auntie Tibs filled him up with the bubbly happiness. Their grins as they held up their catches of the day were priceless. Even if the fishes caught were so puny it was comical.

Sure, Steve didn't have a picture of everyone he loved. But he did at home. Their walls holding framed family portraits and every day candids from the snapshots of their lives that Steve wanted to keep forever. There were school photos and polaroids that Bucky showed off whenever given the opportunity.

Clearing her throat, Amy regained Steve's attention and she asked, "How long have you and your husband been married?"

Smiling, Steve ran his thumb over the rings on his left finger, "We celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary in August. But we were together for twelve years before that."

"Congratulations," she said. Steve noticed the way her eyes went glassy with unshed tears and she explained, "I'm sorry. My husband left us recently and I --"

Not knowing what else to do, Steve grabbed the box of tissues from his desk and held them out to her. A kind smile on his face as she took a couple. Steve couldn't blame her from crying in a complete stranger's classroom. He couldn't imagine if -- Nope, not speaking that into existence!After all, Steve knew what it felt like to lose Bucky. Even after all those years together, sometimes Steve would remember how he threw Bucky out of his life over a misunderstanding and got irrationally angry at his younger self.

"Thank you," Amy sniffled. Standing up, she gestured towards the door, "I should go before I make an even bigger fool of myself."

Awkwardly, Steve walked her across the classroom to the door, "Have a nice night."

"You, too," Amy answered, clutching onto the tissues in her hands as she turned to leave.

Huffing out a breath, he spun on his heel to look up at the clock. He still had a full hour left. Sighing, Steve shoved his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and got back to rearranging the classroom. If nothing else came from the night, at least he could say that he had gotten something productive done.

[letswritefanfiction]

Lost in Halloweenia! Ch7

Crosspost from ffnet and AO3.

Summary: It’s Halloween! Ash and the gang are living it up trick or treating when they stumble upon a strange house with some strange artifacts. What mysteries do they hold and…wait, who are those three lurking behind them?

Word Count: 3,932/27,343

Previous chapter here

Next chapter here

Chapter 7: Double Double Toil and Trouble

Well, folks, we were left with quite the cliffhanger last time, weren’t we? Last we knew, Misty was nothing short of hopping mad and Ash had just discovered the nefarious Team Rocket in the home of a still-mysterious Umbreon named Kitsume. And poor Brock was left as the sane one. Hey, wait! If Brock is the sane one, then what am I?

“I’m getting that crown back!”

“Hold on!”

Ash stopped in midair as Jessie and James suddenly shifted to standing, before they realized that they were standing square on top of their Pokémon. They then took a single step off and cleared their throats before sinister music began in the background as if from nowhere.

“Prepare yourself, twerp, for double, double, toil and trouble!” Jessie began.

“And make it double as fire burn and cauldron bubble!” James continued.

“To protect Halloweenia from devastation!”

“To find our way out of this mysterious nation!”

“To denounce the evils of ghosts and goblins!”

“To extend our reach up out of a coffin!”

“Jessie!”

“James!”

“Team Rocket, blast off at the speed of light!”

“Surrender now, or prepare to fight!”

“Meowth, dat’s right!”

“Wobbuffett!”

After pleasantly sitting through the motto, Ash steeled himself for Battle. “Then let’s fight! Pikachu, Thunderbolt!”

“Victreebel, use Vine Whip!”

“Arbok, Poison Sting Attack!”

“Oh, yeah? Two can play at that game! Cyndaquil, go!”

An all-out Battle began in Kitsume’s house, but against all odds, Kitsume couldn’t have been more thrilled. She strapped on her vacuum and sucked up every Attack as quickly as it was called, leaving the Battle at a complete standstill.

“Razor Leaf!”

“Ember!”

“Acid!”

“Agility!”

Sweat began dripping down Ash’s brow as not a single Attack made contact. He was hoping that Pikachu’s speed would get him to land an Attack before it was sucked up, but somehow even a blast of electricity was able to be bottled up and contained for posterity.

He quickly was growing frustrated. “Try a Quick Attack!”

But, as Pikachu ran into the fray, even he began to feel the effects of the strong vacuum and had to scramble back to the sidelines just to avoid being sucked up.

Ash grunted. This was going nowhere. “Pikachu.” Ash’s expression hardened as Pikachu turned back to look at him. “Thunderbolt on that Umbreon!”

Kitsume, for her part, hardly looked disturbed. She simply smirked and before Pikachu’s cheeks could let off so much as a crackle of electricity, she said, “I don’t think so.”

And the whole world changed.

“Whoa!” Team Rocket intoned, their voices wavering like they were struggling to keep their balance atop a surf board.

Suddenly, the cabin as a whole disappeared, and Ash, Pikachu, and Team Rocket found themselves standing in a swirling world of black, purple, red and pink, with no floor or ceiling to ground them. They were floating in space as all of the objects of the room swirled around them, like gravity had simply given up.

Kitsume, however, was the biggest surprise of all. Her body was now leaner and bipedal, her snout had lengthened and sharpened and she had grown a long mane of pointed red hair. Ash looked at her, completely taken aback.

“What’s that?”

Ash couldn’t help but—even in the confusion—pull out his Pokédex and aim it towards the…whatever it was that had just manifested before them.

“Zoroark, the illusion fox Pokémon and the evolved form of Zorua. Each has the ability to fool a large group of people simultaneously through the use of illusion.”

“Oops, there goes my secret,” Kitsume said, though her smile was anything but rueful.

In her new form, Kitsume quickly scurried about the strange space and gathered all of her now-floating objects into her arms. Then, with nothing more than a blink, Kitsume created a break in the illusion, a window where the one in the house had been. She made as if to take off out of it before, in a split second, darting across the room and grabbing Jessie’s sack as well.

“Bring more Pokémon if you want the bag back! If you can find me! Haha!”

Not a moment later, she was out the window, leaving Ash and everyone else with nothing but a gust of wind and the echoes of Kitsume’s cackling laughter.

But Ash wasn’t about to stand for that. “Not so fast!” he shouted.

In a moment, Ash leapt out of the window, Pikachu and Cyndaquil on his heels as they chased Kitsume outside.

Team Rocket, wary of being left behind, ran to follow Ash, but just as they made it to the window, it winked out of existence altogether. Then, to their horror, they were trapped in the swirling illusion, now with no way out.

“Team Rocket’s left behind again!”

“Okay, the king doesn’t have the crown. The king has never not had the crown! Not since I’ve been alive. So I don’t know how long he can be without it. And how long can a Fairy help him? And a baby? Not long, I guess…but then how long has the crown been missing? Oh my GOSH how much time do we have left? I can feel my life slipping away from me. This is the end, I know it! Goodbye, cruel world! So should I help these kids with my final minutes or…”

After Misty’s outburst, Brock had managed to pull her back from running around a mysterious castle with the threat of attacking a reigning king still on her tongue. Since then, Misty had calmed somewhat, but Litty…

“But I was supposed to just have fun by following these kids, and now my life is in danger? UGH!”

…had gone around the bend.

Litty, while monologuing, was pacing in a very small circle, around which Broomba was sweeping. Not that Litty left much of a mess, but it seemed to…soothe Broomba? Brock and Misty didn’t know—it didn’t have a face!

It was even worse than having to identify Staryu’s emotions.

“Litty!” Misty cried out, her desperation finally coming to a head. “Help us find Togepi!”

Suddenly, Litty snapped out of it and turned to face Misty. “Right. You’re right. The king will be fine. We should just help the Fairy.”

Brock and Misty nodded, smiles finally gracing their faces in resounding relief.

“But we will not be fine if we go challenge the King, just the three of us. This problem is bigger than either of you can imagine.”

Misty’s eyes widened in worry. “Then what should we do?”

Litty looked resolved. “We go to the library.”

“Is that where Blair and Lassie are?” Brock asked.

“No. But backup is.”

Litty seemed to know the castle surprisingly well, and they made it to the library in no time once Litty requested Brock carry him the rest of the way. Apparently, no matter how well you know a castle, it’s all for naught if your legs are the size of a seeded grape.

The library was a large room, dimly lit with racks upon racks of books. And there were books heaped everywhere. Open on the floor, scattered to the wind, every which way. This perked Broomba up immediately, who then went after every book on the floor, despite not having hands with which to pick them up. Broomba just kinda of…scooted them around. But it seemed to be enjoying it!

…Once again, that would be if one could tell if Broomba enjoyed anything.

As for the rest of the figures in the room, there were some Zubat hanging from the open beams on the ceiling, a skeleton sleeping—at least, Brock and Misty hoped it was sleeping—on a settee, and a Litten all curled up by a fireplace in what was clearly a reading nook.

And there were dozens of Chandelure floating about, providing most if not all of the light in the room.

“Uh, shouldn’t that be a fire hazard?” Brock asked, pointing to some of the closer Chandelure, floating about autonomously.

“Nope,” Litty chirped, hopping out of Brock’s hands. “This is our residence! Besides, our natural fire doesn’t tend to burn paper so much as it burns souls.”

Brock and Misty took an enthusiastic step back away as Litty glanced about.

“Okay, fam!” he called, putting a hand to his little mouth. “We’ve got a real problem on our hands!”

Suddenly, Brock and Misty found themselves surrounded by all the Chandelure in the room. They gulped nervously at their expressionless faces. Their eyes were just so wide…and…soulless.

“Let’s go see the king!”

At those words, Misty, at least, finally got her fire back. “And save Togepi!”

The going was dark. And Kitsume was dark; her body fading entirely into the shrouds of the forest that she had led them into. A break in the trees led to the moonlight casting enough light to occasionally catch sight of her red hair, but aside from that, it was hope more than knowledge that fueled his footsteps.

Eventually, Cyndaquil got in front, setting its back ablaze to add a little extra light to the night. “Thanks, Cyndaquil,” Ash huffed as they continued zigzagging through the trees.

Pikachu too ran in front of Ash, as Pokémon tended to have better vision in the dark than humans did. Hence why Kitsume seemed to so effortlessly weave between the trees without having to worry about tripping over a root or, let’s face it, running straight into one of the trees, like Ash did.

Then, suddenly, there was a clearing in the woods. It was still dark with the cover of trees, and eerily silent, but it was a whole circle of open space. And Kitsume entered it, only to completely disappear from sight a moment later. Ash, Pikachu, and Cyndaquil ran into the center and looked around, but to no avail. All that was near was darkness.

“Kitsume?” Ash called out in frustration. “Come out here!”

“Pika!”

“Quil!”

Softly, they began to hear a whisper from the trees. It grew into a laugh before evolving into an all out cackling, sounding like it was coming from all directions—from the very trees themselves.

Then, Kitsume appeared from out of the woodwork, her head lowered and her eyes sinister. “So you really want to show me some moves, huh?”

“No, we want to get that bag back!” Ash declared.

The bag, however, was nowhere in sight. Kitsume must have stashed it somewhere in the woods.

Kitsume was undeterred. “I think you’ll change your mind.”

Suddenly, all around in the woods, red eyes began to glow, one by one until nearly twenty sets of eyes were staring at them. Slowly, they came closer until bodies came to form in the darkness. It was a whole pack of Zoroark.

Kitsume smiled, eyeing her family members. “I think you’ll want to release all of your Pokémon to battle us.”

Ash grit his teeth. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

He reached for his ‘Belt and grabbed his remaining four PokéBalls, enlarging them all at once. In a blinding burst of light, out came Totodile, Phanpy, Noctowl, and Bayleef, who promptly ran over to Ash to nuzzle him, pushing Pikachu out of the way as she did so.

“Hi, Bayleef,” Ash said awkwardly. “Sorry, but we kind of have big problems right now.”

Bayleef turned back to the pack of Zoroark, and immediately cowered, like all of the rest of the Pokémon were doing. The Zoroark wore mirrored menacing smiles, each like a perfect shadow of the one next to it and made not a single sound. Like they weren’t even breathing.

Kitsume opened her arms, barring her chest to steal Ash’s focus back. “Battle us for it.”

Ash narrowed his eyes, turning his hat around and widening his stance. He could do this. He would do this.

“Fine, I will! Cyndaquil! Use Flamethrower!”

Cyndaquil let the flame on its back grow as it created a ball of fire in its mouth. Kitsume was nearly salivating in anticipation, her vacuum at the ready.

“Cynda…quil!”

The Flamethrower lit up the dark woods, blinding everyone for a moment. Nevertheless, Kitsume managed to suck up the Attack, leaving it flickering in a little glass bottle like a harmless candle.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Not even close!” Ash shouted. “Noctowl, use Confusion on that side and Bayleef, use Razor Leaf on the others!”

Noctowl and Bayleef stood back to back, each taking on half of the circle. However, Kitsume ran around swiftly, her footsteps light and soundless as she stole both Attacks from out of the air.

Ash wasn’t used to having to handle so many Pokémon in a Battle. Never had he even seen a Battle with so many moving parts. But it was clear he’d have to figure it out sooner rather than later. The problem was that darn vacuum! If only he could destroy it somehow…

“Okay, Totodile, Water Gun! And Bayleef, use another Razor Leaf!”

Totodile immediately began spraying in the direction of half of the Zoroark and Bayleef took on the other half. But Kitsume, as predicted, ran around as fast as she could with that vacuum. Ash looked to Pikachu who was as ready and determined as he.

“Pikachu, you aim a Thunderbolt right at that vacuum. Then we’ll be able to fight this Battle fair and square!”

“Pika!”

Pikachu charged his cheeks, readying to attack while Kitsume was distracted. It was hard to aim while Kitsume darted around, but as fast as she was, Pikachu knew he was faster. With a battle cry, Pikachu unleashed a Thunderbolt into the air and watched it jut out in jagged angles on its way to Kitsume’s back. But, to everyone’s horror, it only made it about half way across the clearing before fizzling out. Everyone gasped.

“What’s wrong, Pikachu?” Ash asked worriedly.

Pikachu looked confused, if not a little scared. “Pika pi!”

“No!” Kitsume bemoaned. “It’s already losing its Electric Typing. It won’t be long now before it can’t use its Attacks at all.”

Ash and Pikachu looked to each other in terror. It was almost too late.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Ash said, trying to be encouraging as that worry settled on both their chests. “We’ll just have to try something else.

Luckily, at just that moment, a spark of inspiration hit Ash. He turned back to Pikachu with fresh hope. They weren’t out of the game yet!

“Pikachu, Quick Attack!”

Kitsume faltered as Pikachu came charging at her. “What? No! I can’t do anything with that!”

Ash laughed hardily. “I know! Now, Bayleef, hold her back with Vine Whip!”

Kitsume was busy trying to dodge Pikachu, who was flashing in and out of visibility as he kept up his Quick Attack. She didn’t even notice when Bayleef’s Vine Whip came out of the darkness and grabbed at her legs. They continued pulling backwards and before she knew it, she was face down on the ground.

“Great! Now, Phanpy, use a Take Down Attack on that vacuum!”

Phanpy, eager to be used, cried out happily and began barreling towards Kitsume, or rather, her vacuum. She smashed right into it, but it held strong.

Still, Kitsume was scared. So she let out a scream, and that was enough for the world to morph around her.

The other Zoroark began shifting, moving around so quickly and so stealthily that Ash couldn’t tell where one ended and one began anymore. But one thing was clear; they were fast approaching. “Phanpy, keep using Take Down. Everyone else, attack the other Zoroark!”

Suddenly, the clearing was flying with Pokémon, each trying to outrun and out-hit one another. But without any more Special Attacks lighting up the night, Ash couldn’t see much more than the dim light of the coals burning on Cyndaquil’s back. There were just too many Zoroark, and soon it looked like his Pokémon were lost in a cloud of them. All he could do was try his best to call out Attacks that could possibly help.

“Pikachu, confuse them with Agility! Noctowl, blow them back with Gust from above. No, don’t hit the others! Keep at it Phanpy!”

Eventually, it was all he could do to keep from getting hit himself. Pokémon were flying all over the clearing, and he was standing right in the middle. He didn’t even know if Bayleef had a hold on Kitsume anymore, or if Phanpy was having any luck with the vacuum. There were Pokémon cries and grunts and smashes of bodies impacting all around him, but he could hardly distinguish one from another. It was just a flurry of battle.

It knocked the wind out of him entirely when suddenly Pikachu’s body went flying limply through the air, colliding with his gut. Ash gasped and wheezed, but recovered as quickly as he could to see after his friend. Pikachu looked up at him with sleepy eyes, giving a dull, “Chaa.”

“I’m sorry, Pikachu. You’re too weak to battle right now.”

“Pi ka,” Pikachu said stubbornly, shaking his head.

“Leave it to everyone else. It’ll be fine.”

But it wasn’t fine.

Ash’s eyes were beginning to adjust better to the light, since there weren’t any more fiery or electrical Attacks to light up the night and ruin his corneas. And what he saw was unsettling.

His Pokémon were wearing thin. Noctowl was flying above to avoid getting hit, but hardly landing any Attacks. And it just got worse from there. Phanpy was reliably still going at Kitsume’s vacuum, but the Take Down Attacks were beginning to take their toll. Meanwhile, Kitsume wasn’t sitting motionless. She was firing various Special Attacks that Ash couldn’t recognize at Bayleef, who was standing there and taking them like a champion. But though she was still holding strong with her Vine Whip, she was looking battered and Ash didn’t know how much longer she could take it.

Ash grit his teeth as he looked at the scene. Pikachu crawled onto his shoulder and the two of them looked around helplessly. Their friends couldn’t hold on much longer. And it almost seemed like the Zoroark had doubled in numbers, far from slowing down.

In that moment, Ash realized that he had to admit defeat. He couldn’t do this to his Pokémon any longer. He reached for Totodile’s PokéBall, about to call him back when, suddenly, his savior arrived.

“Disable!”

All at once, a pink glow pierced the dark forest, shooting straight towards Kitsume, dodging all of Ash’s Pokémon. Ash looked to the source of the pink light and saw, in fanciful illumination, an old friend.

“Mantar!” Ash cried in relief.

As the Attack made contact with Kitsume, freezing her to the ground, suddenly the other Zoroark dissolved into little particles before vanishing into thin air.

“They were just an illusion,” Ash murmured.

“Finish the job, Ash,” Mantar said bluntly, his spoons pointed out towards Kitsume, whose face was stuck in an irritated frown.

“Right!” Ash looked to his Pokémon, who were scooping themselves off of the ground, brushing off their battered states. With a moment to catch their breaths, they all looked much better. “Cyndaquil, use Flamethrower on the vacuum, then, Totodile, cool it off with a Water Gun. Then you should be able to break it with one good Tackle Attack, Phanpy!”

The night lit up further when Cyndaquil readied itself for another Flamethrower Attack as Bayleef reined in her veins, to avoid them getting scorched in the process. As the tongue of flame ignited the vacuum on Kitsume’s back, Ash turned to Noctowl.

“Noctowl, scan the forest; find that sack!”

Noctowl gave off a soft coo and flew off into the trees, her night vision rendering her perfect for the job.

Then it was Totodile’s turn. The Water Gun Attack hit the vacuum with a sizzle, letting off some steam into the air. It also hardened the vacuum, leaving it solid, but brittle.

“Do your thing, Phanpy!”

With one last heave of energy, Phanpy ran for the vacuum and smashed into it. Upon impact, the vacuum shattered into a million pieces before being lost to the darkness.

Mantar took that moment to release his hold on Kitsume, putting his spoons down. The second she had her body back to herself, she let out an ear-splitting screech that echoed through the night.

“What did you do?!” she screamed to Ash, quickly running up to his face.

Pikachu quickly began sparking his cheeks and growling deep in the back of his throat. He was not about to let another Pokémon attack Ash.

“Oh, pipe down, pipsqueak. We both know you can’t do anything anymore.”

She reared back in an attempt to lunge towards the both of them, but before Ash could so much as shield his eyes, Mantar had her frozen again, holding a spoon out towards her as he walked over to Ash.

“Perhaps we should leave her here for a while,” he said.

Ash nodded, taking a deep breath. “Maybe.”

At just that moment, Noctowl came flapping back into the clearing, hooting victoriously. Hanging from her talons was Team Rocket’s sack, which she dropped right beside Ash. Ash quickly opened it up, and was relieved to see that the crown was indeed sitting in it, right on top of a pile of candy.

“Ooh, candy!” Ash exclaimed.

“Pi pikachu!” Pikachu concurred with eyes wide and glistening in excitement.

Mantar smacked himself on the forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ash somehow tore himself away from looking at the candy and turned to Mantar. “How are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the gate?”

“I used Substitute and left a dummy there. So I’ll be summoned if I’m needed. But I could see that you needed help here.”

“See?”

Mantar pointed to his brain. “See.”

“Oh.” After understanding dawned, Ash went back to the bag and picked up the crown. It was even more beautiful than the projection that Mantar had created showed. Even in the nearly non-existent light of the forest, it gleamed, seemingly with its own inner light. It seemed that the jewels in it were not jewels at all, but rather just colored spires on the crown. They just appeared gem-like because of their incandescence.

It was so mesmerizing that Ash couldn’t help but just stare at it for a few moments. It was only after Mantar cleared his throat that Ash pulled out of his reverie.

“I guess we should take care of this,” Ash said, gesturing to the crown.

“Yes, we have to get it to the king right away,” Mantar urgently reminded him. “It’s already getting to be too late.”

“How are we gonna get there?”

“Teleportation,” Mantar stated. “Return your companions.”

Ash returned his Pokémon one by one to their ‘Balls, promising to reward them all later for their hard work. Perhaps with candy.

“What now?”

“Stand away from the Zoroark and prepare yourself.”

Confused, Ash followed Mantar’s instructions, circling around behind Kitsume. In a moment, Mantar released his hold on her and she continued her lunge, but only reached air. And by the time she turned around, Ash, Mantar, and Pikachu were gone.

Kitsume growled. “The good guys always win.”

Mantar to the rescue! More than that, Ash finally found the crown. Now he just needs to deliver it to the king so that they can get Togepi back and still find a portal so that they can all make it home…Oh, no. How are they supposed to do all that in only one more installment? Find out next time in the Lost in Halloweenia finale!

[ramseyandrys]

Mistakes: Liam x MC

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Rating: T

Summary: Blair makes a glaring mistake at her first ball since having her and Liam’s first child. She’s worried she won’t be able to handle being a queen and a mother.

Author’s Note: Hi! This is a piece for the lovely @kinda-iconic ‘s Choices July Challenge. The prompt for Day 5 was Mistake. I’m not a mother or a monarch (that last one should be obvious), so some things about motherhood or royal protocol may not be accurate. I tried to do as much research as I could on how monarchs address each other and found that they often use their first names depending on the context. I know some mothers go through something called “mommy brain”, but I haven’t experienced it firsthand. Anyway, enjoy the fic!

The opulent ballroom decorated in red and blue. Hundreds of world leaders from around the world had gathered in Buckingham Palace to celebrate Queen Elizabeth’s birthday. Usually, Queen Blair of Cordonia would’ve been in her element. She’d been married to King Liam for over a year now, and balls had become second nature to her. Tonight, however, Blair’s mind wasn’t on doilies or diplomats but on her daughter. She and Liam had welcomed Princess Philippa Drake of Cordonia less than two months ago. Blair had been on maternity leave since she was seven months pregnant, and this was her first ball since Pippa’s birth. To say she missed her precious infant was an understatement.

Blair and Liam were sitting at their assigned table in the ballroom. They had just finished dancing and were now taking a rest. Blair looked at her husband who was enjoying the sight of Princess Charlotte teaching Prince Louis the Cordonian Waltz, a dance Liam had showed the little girl a few hours ago. “Liam?” Blair said. Liam looked at Blair. “Can you check on Pippa? My phone’s dead.”

“Of course, my love,” Liam said patiently. He’d just checked on their daughter fifteen minutes ago, but he knew his wife was struggling to be apart from her. He was too. Liam slyly took out his phone and hid it under the table as he texted Olivia, who along with Drake, was watching Pippa for the night. A few seconds later, Liam’s phone vibrated in his lap. A grin spread across his face. “Olivia told me to stop texting as newborns aren’t that interesting, but she did send a picture.” Blair perked up, eager to see her daughter. Liam gave her the phone. She beamed when she saw the picture Olivia had sent. Drake was laying on their couch, his mouth hanging open as he slept, and Pippa was laying on his chest in her hippo onesie from her Uncle Max.

“Aw, they look so cute,” Blair said. “She adores Drake.”

“Sometimes, I think she likes him more than us,” Liam joked. Blair smiled. She gave him back his phone.

“Oh, can you ask Olivia if Pippa’s been pooping regularly? She had diarrhea last week. I talked to Dr. Samuels, and he said she was fine but still,” Blair said. Liam smiled at the hilarity that was the queen of Cordonia talking about poop at a formal ball. His father was rolling in his grave.

“Okay, I’ll ask her,” Liam said, texting Olivia.

“Can you also ask if she’s eating regularly? I know she prefers to be breastfed,” Blair said.

“Blair,” Liam said.

“Also, she needs to be in her bassinet not on Drake’s chest. God knows what could happen. Remember that time Drake sleepwalked into the stables?” Blair asked.

“Blair,” Liam repeated.

“What?” Blair said, somewhat irritated.

“Relax,” her husband said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Pippa is fine.” No, she’s not, Blair thought to herself. How could she be when I’m not there? Before Blair could respond to Liam, Queen Elizabeth walked over to their table.

“Oh, God. Did she hear me talking about poop?” Blair frantically whispered to Liam, mortified. Liam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Liam, Blair,” the queen said to them. The United Kingdom had a positive relationship with Cordonia and, thus, the monarchs were all on a first name basis.

“Elizabeth, it’s good to see you,” Liam said as both he and Blair stood up. Liam shook the queen’s hand.

“Your Highness,” Blair said, curtseying before the queen. Her eyes widened when she realized the mistake she had made. As a fellow queen, Blair could refer to the queen as Elizabeth or Your Majesty if the setting was less intimate. To call her Your Highness, a title reserved for princes and princesses, was an insult. As Blair straightened up, she could’ve sworn all eyes were on her. It was a silly thought, given no one could hear her over the schmoozing and music, but Blair was convinced. Her eyes met the queen’s. “Your Majesty, I apologize for my blunder.” To Blair’s relief, the queen smiled.

“It’s quite alright, my dear,” Queen Elizabeth said. “How is your daughter? Pippa is it?”

“Yes, Pippa,” Liam said after a few seconds of Blair not responding. All she could think of was how much of a fool she looked like. “She’s wonderful. She’s a blessing in every sense of the word.” Blair’s mind drifted as Queen Elizabeth and Liam began to discuss foreign policy. On a normal day, Blair loved to converse about Cordonian relations, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Pippa. She wondered if she was hungry or if she was cold or if she missed her and Liam. The logical side of Blair knew Pippa was in good hands with Olivia, Drake, and the royal nanny, but the new mom of her felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. It felt so wrong to be without her Pippa. She’d been with Blair for almost eleven months now. To spend a night away from her felt so… unnatural.

As soon as Blair and Liam got into their limousine after the ball, Blair put her head in her hands and began to cry. Liam’s eyes widened. He wasn’t used to seeing Blair cry especially outside of their home. Liam inches closer to her and put his arm around her. “My love, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” Blair cried, looking up at him. “I made a fool of myself tonight! I called the queen of the fucking United Kingdom Your Highness and then stared off into space while she was talking to us!” Blair let out another sob. “Oh my God. This is going to be all lever the Internet. Bertrand and Madeline are going to kill me.”

“They are not going to kill you,” Liam said with a good-natured chuckle. “You made a mistake. Everyone makes them even Bertrand and Madeline. Just don’t tell them that.”

“I just feel so overwhelmed,” Blair said. “What if I can only be one— a good mother or a good queen? What if I let our people down? What if I let you down? What if I let Pippa down?”

“Blair, take a deep breath,” Liam said. Blair reluctantly took a deep breath and released it. “You can be a good mother and a good queen. Honestly, you already are. You helped the schools in Cordonia get next textbooks. You started a charity that provides children with meals when school isn’t in session. You spoke to the UN, seeking more funding for refugee programs. You did all of that while you were pregnant with Pippa.”

“I know, but it’s different now,” Blair said. “So much more is expected of me on both fronts.”

“Perhaps, but I still believe in you, my love,” Liam said. “You just need to believe in yourself. I feel like you expect yourself to be perfect.”

“No, I don’t,” Blair immediately said. Liam arched one of his eyebrows. “Fine, I do, but you’re one to talk. Pot meet kettle.” Liam stared at his wife in confusion.

“I’m not sure what kitchen cookware has to do with anything, but you’re right,” he said. “I’m just as much of a perfectionist. I need to work on not letting my mistakes define me.”

“We both do,” Blair said. Liam pulled his wife close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Liam kissed her temple. Blair closed her eyes and, for the first time in a long time, relaxed.

Please like, reblog, or comment! Thanks for reading!

Tag List: @x-kyne-x @kinda-iconic @choicesjulychallenge @lilyofchoices

More of My Work

[note-katha]

Evenfall Chapter One

Alright, according to my notes, it’s just about time for the story to begin. Now, before we get started, we should review some very important things.

What we discuss while this story unveils you might want to keep secret. You could tell people, but then I’d tell you to expect more than a few weird looks and questions about your mental stability. If that’s what you were aiming for, go ahead!

I personally find that keeping the ongoings of Everless a much more favorable (and easier!) solution.

Secondly, I hope you don’t find yourself at a loss with all the information the story requires, I understand that there’s quite a bit you don’t know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn! Learning is very important and you can count on me to be a wonderful teacher!

So, without further ado, let’s begin!

The Melpomene dorm was the school’s oldest dorm, the first one built and the smallest to boot. It wasn’t used as often as the other dorms, only really being used if there were too many students. Or given to a very particular type of students, which was quite rare but not unwelcome. Usually.

For one reason or the other, Kalavathi, Juli, and Ardis found themselves assigned to the dorm, taking residence alongside six others.

Taking the other suite on the single floor of the dorm was a quartet of second-year students who seemed very...odd.

While we know that there is much more to the world than humans, these people seemed to barely pass as such.

Oh yes, and filling out the fourth slot in their room was a girl named, hm, really? One moment, let me check this.

Right, yes, yes, that’s actually her name? Wow.

Filling out the fourth slot in their room was a girl named “Mary Sue”. Yes, really. I can’t believe it either.

The final person in the dorm was their “RA”, resident advisor. A relatively charming demon-type who rarely fit the assumed archetype for demons. Don’t let the horns fool you, they’re very nice. You see, however, the problem with demon names is that they’re written and pronounced in a script which is also used in magic, usually demonic specific magic. It’s not hard to say words in that script normally, but those not trained to know the difference usually face some problems.

Their name will damn any normal human that attempts to say it to another realm in which no one has ever been able to return to, so when I tell you, don’t say it out loud.

It’s Tattvagyega. They usually go by Tatti or Cels. They visit me frequently and we talk about the people trapped there. Cels visits them to apologize and bring snacks. They make a mean sugar cookie, you should try them one day.

Apologies, that was off-track, let’s focus on our main trio, yes?

Kalavathi was the first, as usual, to arrive. “So, this is my new home,” she thought aloud, as she was prone to do. “Could be worse,” she shrugged, pulling the school-provided luggage cart behind her as she walked up. Kal pulled the keys to the dorm out, this building is so old they have keys instead of cards, scary, I know. She unlocked the door, entering the quaint and warm building. She walked in backwards, in order to properly pull the cart in.

“Hello!” A voice called out to her, “Welcome! I’m your RA, Cels Ev’rals. You are?” Kal didn’t answer for a moment as she yanked the cart into the building.

“My name’s Kala—” she cut herself off with a panicked scream when she finally turned around. Cels was a demon, a Southern Demon to be exact, which meant deep red skin and curly, ram-like, horns. I can see why that would be a bit scary, especially for someone like Kal who managed to make it this far without realizing that Evenfall wasn’t normal.

Cels frowned, cocking their head to the side before glancing down. “Aw man, I forgot my glamour, didn’t I?” They, in fact, had but with a quick rambling recitation of their glamour spell, the young demon appeared far more human. A deep tan and messy brown hair replaced their demonic visage. “Better?” they asked.

Kal stared blankly for a moment, running through what had just happened in her mind. As rational as she usually was, she had had a sneaking suspicion that Evenfall wasn’t normal, one that was just confirmed. Taking into account that information she groaned. Quite loudly as she crouched to the floor.

Cels took a step forward, unsure how they could help.

“Kalavathi Nayri, I prefer Kal and I’m a Computer Science and Graphic Design double major.” She took a moment to regain her composure and stand. “On my acceptance, it said W, Creation. I have no idea what that means.”

“Oh, Creation Witch?” Cels offered, glancing at his list, “That matches up. You’re our only second circle. Nice.”

Kal opened her mouth to ask questions.

“Wait till orientation, they’ll explain better than I can.”

“Alright,” Kal nodded. “Nice to meet you, by the way, Cels,” she said, offering a hand to shake. Cels beamed as they accepted the handshake.

It was now that our second and third main characters finally managed to make their first appearances in considerably less fanfare than Kalavathi.

Ardis pushed the door open, scanning the room with a hesitant expression. Or, rather, it seemed like a mostly blank one, but that’s because Ardis isn’t the best at facial emotions. I can relate, Ardis, so don’t feel bad.

“Hello?” He called out to the two. “Uh, I’m here to move in?”

Cels waved, “Hello, welcome!” They took a few steps back, giving room for Kal and Ardis to adjust their carts, along with a third person, whom as previously mentioned, is Juli. “Welcome to Evenfall, if I can get you two’s names, I can leave you alone to unpack before your orientations.”

“Ardis Akiya-Blair, freshman Astrobiology major.”

“The Nature Witch,” Cels said aloud as they checked it off, “And you?”

“Juli Cárdenas Rivera Silva Vicente,” she answered without hesitation, “Major is currently undecided.”

“The Voice Witch, nice to meet you guys. Let me know if you have any questions! This right here,” they pointed at the entrance right beside the group, “is actually your suite. Four rooms, a full kitchen, and a common area. We’ll deal with rooming agreements tomorrow, you guys relax tonight and have fun at orientation.” Cels gave them a charming smile, as they were prone to do, smile before heading off.

“Uh, they’re not human,” Kal said as she faced the group. “Are you human? You look human but I’m not sure what to trust anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m human,” Ardis nodded, “I found out about the magical thing, which might make me not human.” He shrugged, “My name’s Ardis, by the way.”

“Kalavathi, but you can call me Kal,” she answered on instinct, “Thinking about it now, I probably shouldn’t be that surprised that this school isn’t normal.”

“Yeah, I kind of just came because it was in-state for me. Magic was not expected,” Juli admitted, “Call me Jules, nice to meet you guys! We’re suitemates it seems, huh?” She grinned at them, “Then that means we gotta team up to figure out everything new we’re gonna experience.” Ah, fortunately, Jules was at the very very confident end of her confidence spectrum. Good, that’s going to help today.

There was a beat of silence and before anyone could speak, the door swung open.

“Of course, I get this kind of dorm,” someone groaned loudly as they entered.

Ah, yes, her. Mary Sue stepped into the building, her blonde hair tied up into a ponytail. A somewhat ridiculous expression of apparent irritation. Her scowl got worse as she looked around as if she had heard something.

She eyed the group, “Do you know where the RA is?”

The three pointed in the direction Cels had gone in. Without even any thanks, she walked off to find Cels.

Jules frowned lightly, but shrugged, “Hey, anyone have a preference about their rooms in the suite?”

“Let’s get into the suite first, then pick,” Kal offered, “We should head over for orientation afterward.” Aw, Kal’s trying to socialize. I’m so proud of her!

Orientation took place in the school’s amphitheater, the heart of Evenfall University’s campus and a typically beautiful place which students often used as a hangout spot.

However, now, as the sun was slowly beginning to set, students of all types that made up the freshman class were finding seats on the grass. Many whispering between each other, trying to figure out what was going on.

Not too long after our trio arrived, taking seats close to the stage, did they notice the two professor-looking adults milling about on the stage itself.

“What school does their orientation when it’s getting dark?” Kal murmured, “On top of that, what school makes their freshman wait until the day after orientation to sign up for classes?”

“It’s certainly weird,” Ardis nodded, “The school’s seemingly pretty well functioning, so I don’t think there’s much cause for worry.”

Before Kal could respond, there was a small commotion. The two professors scrambling off the main stage before an explosion of smoke erupted and spilled out of nowhere.

Lights were the first thing visible. Shapes on the grass, ones that began to light up everywhere.

A line within a triangle within a square within a pentagon, all starting from the very top of the pentagon with a small dot in the center. Ah, yes, the Five Circles of Magic! A lovely symbol.

Once the smoke dissipated, there stood a woman, brightly smiling and illuminated by the sigil beneath her feet.

“Welcome to Evenfall University!” The woman waved, “My name is Suvati Kair and I’m the Dean here at Evenfall.” Ah, yes, Suvati. Her flair for the dramatics will never end, it seems. “I’m sure many of you have questions, so allow me to explain.” With a flick of her wrist and a recitation of something that wasn’t exactly English, lights began to flicker to life around her, fifteen to be exact. “It might come as a surprise to some, though I imagine at least a few of you have figured it out, but Evenfall is home to one of many magical universities devoted to providing a place of education and safety to all students. We also work to find students with Nevermore heritage or magical background in order to educate them on their identity and abilities.” She pointed at one of the professors, “Dr. Avali here will take over to discuss the basics of what Nevermore and Everless are.”

Dr. Avali, an Angel, and not exactly the type you’ve read about, though I can see why you’d think that, with the fluffy white wings and all, took center stage.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Alex Avali, I’m a professor here, I teach a variety of mathematics classes along with the Angelic Educa class here at Evenfall University,” he began, his voice managing to ring throughout the amphitheater yet remain soft. He’s using a vocal enchantment charm, to explain. Alex loves those things, he doesn’t have to raise his voice for people to hear him. “We’ll start with what is Everless. The answer? This.” He waved his arms around, “Here is Everless. This town, this country, this continent, this world, this solar system, galaxy, universe.” Dr. Avali listed.

He glanced around, not seeing enough understanding in the students. I know I could explain it far better, but he continued. “We are the other side of the pond, but I don’t mean across the pond. Everless is the place when you jump into the pond and emerge on the other side. The other side to us is Nevermore, the birthplace of magic.”

Kal leaned forward, entranced. She didn’t need to spare a glance to her new roommates to know that they shared in her wonder.

Taglist, asked to be added or removed: @spacebrick3, @no-url-ideas-tho, @arynneva, @superwaywardangel, @likeicarusifall @aschenink, @writing-for-the-batfam, @ekrizdis, @wiccanchester