#i spent a lot of time on the appendix please read

[areyoutherelarry]

Title: Slapshot Through the Heart for 1D Tour de Fic Fest

Author: areyoutherelarry

Summary: Being the third overall draft pick comes with a lot of pressure, pressure that Shawn Mendes feels like he’s cracked under until he joins the Florida Panthers and develops a massive crush on their illustrious captain, Niall Horan. However, now that Matthew Tkachuk, the sixth overall pick from Shawn’s draft year, is joining the team, maybe Shawn overexaggerated his and Niall’s connection, maybe he is the biggest draft bust, maybe he isn’t good for the team at all.

Or the Florida Panthers’ crazy 2022-2023 season but make it a friends-to-lovers Shiall Hockey AU with a dash of Matthew Tkachuk propaganda.

@1dtourdeficfest

LONG appendix below cut (Hockey people and glossary)

NHL People

Matthew Tkachuk- (American) Rat king, nepo baby (his dad played for a long time), loves to start shit and plays very good hockey, thriving in Florida, is so obsessed with his new team, always munching on his mouth guard, went #6 in 2016 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Mitch Marner- (Canadian) tiny baby hockey player, adorable and smiley very good at hockey, went #4 in 2015 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Dylan Strome- (Canadian) long-suffering, played with Connor McDavid in juniors, considered somewhat of a bust (I love him don’t come for me), went #3 in 2015 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Auston Matthews- (American) another great hockey player,, known for being fashionable and ✨cool✨, went #1 in 2016 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Connor McDavid- (Canadian) long-suffering best player currently in the NHL, known for being boring af, went #1 in 2015 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Nick Foligno- (American-Canadian) I don’t know much about him, another nepo baby, went #28 in 2006 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Alexander Ovechkin- (Russian) will probably break Gretzky’s record for # of goals scored, is a powerhouse, considered one of the best hockey players of all-time but people consider him a showboat but like yeahhhh duh, went #1 in 2004 NHL entry draft, won 1 Stanley Cup (left)

Phil Kessel- (American) Ridiculous hockey player but was good, think stereotypical Wisconsin dude and yep you’ve got him, known for drinking Coke and eating hot dogs, went #5 in 2006 NHL entry draft, won 3 Stanley Cups (right)

Connor Bedard- (Canadian) Considered a generational talent like Connor McDavid and Sidney Crosby but is only 18, hope he isn’t crushed by the Chicago sports ecosystem (I’m from Chicago), went #1 in 2023 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (duh) (left)

Sidney Crosby- (Canadian) One of the best players, hockey men consider him a whiner but boo to them, he is a big weirdo who has lots of superstitions and doesn’t have public social media, an enigma, went #1 in 2005 NHL entry draft, won 3 Stanley Cups (right)

John Tavares- (Canadian) He’s such a dad, considered to have “abandoned” the Islanders, whatever, went #1 in 2009 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Ryan Lomberg- (Canadian) Lomberghini I don’t know much about him, chirper, went undrafted, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Jonathan Huberdeau- (Canadian) Huby I don’t know much about him, regularly leads teams in points, went #3 in 2011 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (top left)

Claude Giroux- (Canadian) Scrappy hockey player who was captain of the Philadelphia Flyers for a long time, such a dad, went #22 in 2006 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (top right)

Paul Maurice- (Canadian) *I’m missing how to find NHL coaches’ headshots so here’s a funny Paul pic* Says this year’s team has brought back his love of hockey, notably quit previously in the middle of the season because he just couldn’t anymore, also played but only juniors because he got hurt, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Sergei Bobrovsky- (Russian) Always seems long-suffering, people talk a lot of shit about Bob, went undrafted, won 0 Stanley Cups (top left)

Keith Tkachuk- (American) *This picture is hella old but he looks so much like his kids* Has lots of points because he played lots of games, comes from an NHL family, pretty chirpy even with his own kids, went #19 in 1990 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Brady Tkachuk- (American) *The head tilt the Tkachuk brothers do* WILL FIGHT, once got bit during a fight, captain of his team has outrageously high number of penalty minutes compared to other captains, nepo baby, the Tkachuk brothers harass and love each other very much, went #4 in 2018 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Tim Stützle- (German) I don’t know much about him, except he loves doing adorable antics, he and Brady are silly together, hilarious conspiracy that Matthew thinks he’s annoying, went #3 in 2020 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (left)

Thomas Chabot- (Canadian) I don’t know much about him, he hit a teammate in the face with his stick this year accidentally, went #18 in 2015 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

Kris Letang- (Canadian) eternally cursed, this poor man has had two TWO strokes during his career, his dad died not long after he had his second stroke, known for being French Canadian, beautiful, and obsessed with his hair, went #62 in 2005 NHL entry draft, won 3 Stanley Cups (left)

Evgeni Malkin- (Russian) is so moody, will fight you if you irk him just a little bit, also considered whiny with Sid, loves to chirp those he loves, loves jokes and is funny, went #2 in 2004 NHL entry draft, won 3 Stanley Cups (right)

Eric Staal- (Canadian) homophobe, one of four Staal brothers who have played in the NHL, went #2 in 2003 NHL entry draft, won 1 Stanley Cup (left)

Marc Staal- (Canadian) homophobe, one of four Staal brothers who have played in the NHL, went #12 in 2015 NHL entry draft, won 0 Stanley Cups (right)

NHL Glossary (most of this was copy and pasted from around the internet)

The Presidents' Trophy- The Presidents' Trophy is an award presented by the NHL to the team that finishes with the most points during the NHL regular season. Teams get two points for each win, one point for each tie, and no points for a loss

The Presidents' Trophy Curse- Finishing with the best record in the regular season has become a dubious distinction: Only twice in 20 years has the Presidents' Trophy winner gone on to win the Stanley Cup — most recently a decade ago when the Blackhawks beat Boston in the final. Since then, only one team has made it past the second round. 

Captain- In ice hockey, the captain is the player designated by a team as the only person authorized to speak with the game officials regarding rule interpretations when the captain is on the ice. At most levels of play each team must designate one captain and a number of alternate captains (usually two or three) who speak to the officials when the captain is on the bench. 

BioSteel Camp- The annual BioSteel NHL CAMP is a four-day event where 30 of the top hockey stars and prospects go through both on- and off- ice training as the NHL season start is just around the corner.  

London Knights- The London Knights are a junior ice hockey team from London, Ontario, Canada, playing in the Ontario Hockey League, one of the leagues of the Canadian Hockey League. 

Memorial Cup- The Memorial Cup is the national championship of the Canadian Hockey League, a consortium of three major junior ice hockey leagues operating in Canada and parts of the United States. It is a four-team round-robin tournament played between the champions of the Ontario Hockey League (OHL), Quebec Major Junior Hockey League (QMJHL) and Western Hockey League (WHL), and a fourth, hosting team, which alternates between the three leagues annually. 

Chirp-Hockey insults are known as "chirps.” The basic theory behind any kind of trash-talking is that, by disrupting your opponent's concentration and confidence through chirping, you gain a competitive edge that might just help you win. 

The Show- Many players refer to the NHL as “the show” 

Training Camp- NHL training camp is the period when professional ice hockey clubs gather to prepare and enhance themselves for the next season. It starts before the start of the regular season. 

Development Camp- Development Camp provides an opportunity for  prospects to showcase their talents and show management and staff that they are progressing in the right direction. Players at camp are all looking to prove different things. Some camp goers will be looking to prove they're NHL-ready, some will be hoping to show the staff they've improved on areas of need based on last year's camp, some are looking to be signed and some are looking to make a good first impression, along with much more.

Prospect-  A prospect is typically a player who was drafted and/or signed by an NHL team, and is assigned to a development farm team. These development leagues are the American Hockey League and the ECHL. Besides these minor leagues, draft picks may continue playing for the team that they were drafted from in the Canadian Hockey League (consisting of the Ontario Hockey League, Quebec Major Junior Hockey League, and Western Hockey League), the NCAA, the United States Hockey League, various European leagues such as the Czech Extraliga, Finnish Liiga, German Deutsche Eishockey Liga, Russian Kontinental Hockey League, Slovak Extraliga, Swedish Hockey League, the Norwegian Fjordkraftligaen or Swiss National League.

Messier Trophy- The Mark Messier Leadership Award is a NHL award that recognizes an individual as a superior leader within their sport and as a contributing member of society. 

Selke- The Frank J. Selke Trophy is an annual award given "to the forward who best excels in the defensive aspects of the game." The winner is selected in a poll of the Professional Hockey Writers Association at the end of the regular season.

Waivers- Waivers is an NHL labor management procedure by which an NHL team makes a professional ice hockey player's contract and rights available to all other NHL teams. Other NHL teams "waive" any claim to a player designated for assignment in the American Hockey League (AHL) or designated for release. This means another team could sign that player to their NHL team before they go to the minors. 

Celly- Slang for “celebration” and refers to the expression of joy after a player scores a goal; a celly comes in many forms and can range from a fist pump to sheathing a stick as if it were a sword to belly-sliding across the ice. The degree of celly is typically correlated to the importance of the goal.

Liney- The lines in hockey refer to the different lineups that teams utilize throughout the game. Each line typically consists of three forwards, a center and two wingers on either side of the center, and two defensemen. Usually, teams field four lines of forwards and three lines of defensemen. A liney is a player on the same line.

Cross Check- Cross-checking is “The action of using the shaft of the stick between the two hands to forcefully check an opponent.”

Empty Net- Empty net goals usually occur on two occasions in ice hockey: In the final minutes of a game, if a team is within two goals, they will often pull the goalie, leaving the net defenseless, for an extra attacker, in order to have a better chance of scoring to either tie or get within one goal. OR In the case of a delayed penalty, the non-offending team will often pull their goaltender for an extra attacker in this situation as well. 

Shift- A hockey shift is when a “line” takes their turn to play while the other lines take a break on the bench to rest. Each line rotates about every 45 seconds to keep the game intensity up and give players time to rest.

Holding- Holding is any action by a player that restrains an opposing player by impeding their progress whether or not they are in possession of the puck, or by such action prohibiting their ability to pass, shoot, receive, or otherwise propel the puck.

The Box- The penalty box or sin bin (sometimes called the bad box, or simply bin or box) is the area in ice hockey where a player sits to serve the time of a given penalty, for an offense not severe enough to merit outright expulsion from the game.

Powerplay- In ice hockey, a team is considered to be on a power play when at least one opposing player is serving a penalty, and the team has a numerical advantage on the ice (whenever both teams have the same number of players on the ice, there is no power play).

Shoot-out Goal- A hockey shootout is a penalty shot competition used to decide the result of a game that is tied after regulation time and is still tied at the end of overtime. In a shootout, a player starts with the puck at center ice and has a scoring opportunity 1-1 against the opposing team's goalie. The puck can only move forwards. If it moves backwards, the play is considered dead.

Gentleman’s Sweep- A gentleman's sweep is where a team wins a playoff series but loses one game leading to a 4–1 win. It is called a gentleman's sweep under the pretense that it would be rude and unsporting to embarrass a team with a 4–0 victory, so the winning team lets the other team win a game to save face.

Important References

2022 FL Panthers Primer

Matthew Tkachuk Daddy Issues

Hockey Fun Facts

Florida’s Schedule

Shiall Timeline

Dylan Strome Primer

2015 Draft Class

Matthew Tkachuk

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part 32)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,005

Warning: Pregnancy, Age Gap

Please comment and interact which is what makes this story going …

Two months had passed and Cillian was filming Christopher Nolan’s new movie in the US.

You were on your own in his large house, only with your dog keeping you company but, since you were now working full time, you didn’t mind so much.

You were on video call every day, talking to Cillian for at least an hour at the time. You missed him but you also had spent a lot of time with Denise over the past few weeks until, one Friday morning, you received a call from a hospital in Dublin telling you that your friend’s appendix had ruptured and that she needed to be operated on.

With Cillian in the US and Denise’s mother on her annual holiday in Asia, you where the person Denise had requested the doctors would contact and so they did.

As soon as you received the phone call, you dropped everything and rushed to hospital and, when you arrived, Denise was already in surgery.

One of the nurses gave Charlie to you and, as his godmother, you were in the best position to look after him.

Luckily for you, Denise was fine and the operation went well and without complications. But, she had to remain in hospital for at least a week and, whilst her mother was schedule to fly home after receiving a phone call from Denise’s doctors as well, it was you who was going to look after Charlie at least until Sunday as this was what Denise had requested.

After spending some time with Denise, you took Charlie to your house, gathering some clothes and toiletries before going to Denise’s house.

You thought that it was easier for Charlie to be in his normal environment and decided to stay there for the weekend.

Luckily, Denise had an abundance of breast milk frozen and ready to use and, after you read up on how to thaw it out, you were easily able to feed him his normal milk.

Denise had texted you a feeding schedule and you knew that, everything else, you could figure out on your own and so you did.

***

On Saturday, Charlie and you visited Denise in hospital and after that, you video called Cillian who adored seeing his little grandson safe and sound in your arms.

When Cillian appeared on the screen, Charlie laughed and giggled, sending a smile across Cillian’s face. He didn’t know how to talk just yet, but he pointed at Cillian, clearly recognising him.

‘How are you coping babe?’ he asked but, to his surprise, you appeared much calmer than he had expected.

‘We are good, aren’t we bub?’ you said, looking at Charlie who giggled happily again. ‘We visited mummy today, didn’t we Charlie? Then we went for a little stroll on the beach and I am just about to give him a bath and then put him down for his nap’ you explained and Cillian nodded happily.

‘Well, it looks like you’ve got everything under control then’ Cillian observed and you nodded. Of course, you did.

However, there was one person who was concerned that you didn’t and that was Denise’s mother who had insisted on picking up Charlie on Sunday afternoon after returning from Asia early due to Denise’s health.

***

On Sunday afternoon, exactly as scheduled, you heard a knock on the door.

You picked Charlie up from his playmat and opened the door, greeting Denise’s mother who looked far from impressed.

‘Y/N’ she said sternly and you invited her inside.

‘You don’t need to take Charlie to Galway. He is fine here with me. I can take time off work and continue to look after him’ you explained to her again but she simply shook her head.

‘Love, you don’t know how to look after a baby. You are almost a child yourself’ she chuckled and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘I am the same age as Denise. Despite, I’ve been looking after Charlie for the past two days. He is perfectly fine’ you said angrily but Denise’s mother wouldn’t have a bar of it.

‘Please, I mean, look at yourself sweetheart. You look exhausted’ she then said sarcastically.

‘He’s got croup, so yes, I was up all night and I am a little tired but I am perfectly fine’ you said somewhat irritated as Cillian’s ex-wife continued to drill you.

‘Did you give him medicine?’ Denise’s mother asked but, since Denise told you that she prefers to treat Charlie for it naturally first, you didn’t.

‘No, steam bath. It worked fine’ you explained and you could immediately see Denise’s mother roll her eyes.

‘That is so irresponsible. But what else could I expect, right? You are still young and I guess you don’t ever have to worry about looking after your own children at least if you stay with my ex’ she then laughed before searching through the bags you had prepared for Charlie’s trip.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ you asked with an annoyed tone.

‘Because he doesn’t want any more children. It was part of the reason our marriage failed. I wanted another child and he didn’t’ she then explained before pointing out to you that certain items were missing from the bags.

‘I packed re-usable nappies. I don’t have any disposables. I also don’t have formula. Denise expressed milk. I suggest you grab a cooler bag and take some with you’ you explained, ignoring what she had said about Cillian entirely.

Of course, you heard what she had said and it bothered you but you certainly didn’t want to appear weak in front of her and, with that, you handed Charlie to her and offered her to help with the bags.

***

As soon as she left with Charlie, you couldn’t help but break out in tears. You were struggling with the sense of disapproval from Cillian’s family, including her and, whilst you knew you didn’t need her approval, you also didn’t need her constant involvement in your life.

It was also only yesterday that Cillian’s brother’s wife had called you, telling you that she could collect Charlie from Denise’s house until his grandmother returned, not trusting you with him and even Cillian’s mother called you constantly, checking on Charlie.

You felt useless and certainly not welcome when it came to some of Cillian’s family and it was a horrible feeling to have.

You knew you could take care of Charlie, you had done it before and you knew that you deserve better.

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[booksimp]

Begin Again - Azriel - Part One

Synopsis: Azriel and Alora broke up six months ago. Alora still isn’t sure exactly why Azriel shut her out, and she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. With Nesta’s help, Alora has been avoiding Azriel at group events since the breakup. Inspired by “Into You” by Julia Michaels. 

 “So he’s gonna be there then?” I whisper into the phone, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“Actually, the asshole’s already here. I’m sorry, Alora. He was supposed to be away for work until next week.” 

Nesta’s voice is hushed, her irritation obvious. I sigh, my breath creating a cloud of ice in the air around me. I stop walking and turn on my heel, heading back the way I’d come. I had been walking to Feyre and Rhysand’s baby shower, gift for their little one in hand. But Azriel, my ex-fiancee, has decided to make an unscheduled appearance. I scowl to myself and shove the wrapped parcel into my coat pocket. Rhys and Feyre are some of my dearest friends, and I was really looking forward to being there today. 

“It’s okay, Nesta. I’ll just give Feyre her gift later. Can you tell them I’m sorry, something just… came up?”.” 

I sigh again, hating that I have to miss their big day and even worse, lie to them about it. Though I’m sure they see right through it, since Feyre knows every dirty detail about the breakup. 

Nesta has been acting as my personal Azriel detector since he and I broke up six months ago. I’m beyond grateful for her help, but I know the responsibility of it is starting to wear on her patience. 

“You know you’ll have to be in the same room as him eventually, right?  You guys have a lot of friends in common.” Nesta says frankly. I flinch slightly, but I know better than to take her words personally. Nesta is nothing if not painfully forthright. 

“I know. I just can’t be in the same room as him and Mor right now. I can’t see how he looks at her.” I pause to shudder, flashing back to the night I’d found them dancing at Rita’s,  a mere six weeks after Azriel and I ended. She was all over him, and he was grinning like a fool. I hadn’t seen him smile like that for quite awhile. I suppose I should be happy he found his smile again, even if it wasn’t with me. 

“I’ve been thinking of moving back home to San Diego.” I blurt, as if getting it out faster will make it easier. Nesta is one of my best friends, but she still scares the shit out of me. I know she’ll like the idea of me leaving about as much as a bull loves the color red. 

For a few beats, Nesta is entirely silent. I chew my lip nervously, bouncing on the balls of my feet as I wait for my turn to use the crosswalk. I’ve lived in Chicago for three years now, since I moved here to pursue a career in publishing. I met Nesta and her sisters almost immediately. Soon after, they introduced me to their friends, and we’ve all been inseparable ever since.

“You’re not actually fucking serious, are you? You can’t just run away because that idiot broke your heart. This is your home.”  Nesta growls, and I hear a door shut from her end of the line. Oh shit, she really has something to say if she felt the need to find a more private venue. Nesta isn’t one to hide her outbursts. Seeing as I’m not in the mood to get my ass chewed and spit back out, I retreat. Strategically, of course. 

“I’ll let you get back to the baby shower. I have to go anyway.” 

Nesta snorts, and I can hear the scowl in her voice. 

“Okay, coward. We’ll talk tomorrow, I’m coming over.” 

I roll my eyes and pocket my cell phone. If there was ever a way to describe Nesta, its ‘Tough love’. I walk the three blocks to my apartment in a huff, trudging through ankle deep snow all the while. I take my frustration out on fluffy piles of snow, kicking at them as I walk. By the time I’m locking the door behind me, my socks are soaked and I’m shivering despite my massive winter coat. You can take the girl out of California, but you can’t take California out of the girl. 

I take a burning hot shower, dress in my warmest pajamas, and I’m curled up in bed in no time. I’m halfway through White Christmas when a text pings on my phone. 

Azriel: Nesta says you’re moving back to SD. Can we talk? 

Instantly, I’m cold as death beneath my plethora of fluffy Christmas blankets. That all too familiar pang in my chest returns in full force, so insistent that I can’t seem to catch my breath. Without meaning to, I’d read the text in his voice. I haven’t heard his voice in months, but it haunts me, a ghost I can never exorcise. I hear it in my dreams, in crowded rooms, in the harmony of some of our favorite songs. A second text pops up. 

Azriel: Please, Alora. I know that you’re seeing this. You can’t keep shutting me out. I’m sorry, okay?

I scoff indignantly, my vision going red. I can’t shut him out? Him? I spent months trying to get him to talk to me, to tell me what was so obviously eating him up inside. Instead of letting me in, he pushed me as far from him as possible.  And then, there was The Mor Incident. I knew he’d had a massive crush on her in college, but I thought it was long over. How naive of me. 

For weeks after I moved out, Azriel tried to contact me everyday. He would text and call constantly, and ask our friends to get me to talk to him. At first, I was too hurt to respond.I needed my own time and space for a while. And when I saw him with Mor, I decided he’d never get a response from me. I knew what I needed to know.  If anyone deserves to be iced out, it's the man who proposed to me and changed his mind about it like he was changing his order at starbucks. 

Azriel: Talk to me. What can I do? 

I grind my teeth and explode up out of my bed, too angry to even sit still. I pace my bedroom, my stomps probably heard by my downstairs neighbor. What can he do? For shit’s sake, if only he’d asked himself that question six months ago. A deluge of memories flood through my mind, dragging me beneath their frigid depths. Our one sided battles, where I begged and pleaded for him to let me in, and he refused. The nights he slept on the couch, or at Cassian’s. But the one that hurts the most, is the last one.

“Jesus christ, just talk to me! Please, Az. I just need you to talk to me.” I plead, tears running freely down my cheeks. 

Azriel keeps his back to me as he hurls clothes into a duffel bag, the muscles of his shoulders tensed to the point of breaking. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Lora.”

His voice, that deep, melodic voice I love so much, is empty. Devoid of all feeling, all the love that used to shine through in every word he spoke to me. My chest feels like he’s cracked it open, and scraped me empty. Stolen all the warmth, all the joy. The fireplace crackles nearby, and yet I don’t feel a lick of its flame.

“There’s everything to talk about! I don’t even know why you’re leaving. You’ve been in  pain, but you won’t tell me why. You won’t let me help.” I’m yelling now, but he still hasn’t so much as looked my way. A dark, heartrending thought creeps in.

“ Are-are you leaving me?” The question comes out in a broken whisper. I can hear the heartbreak in my own voice, and he curses under his breath. 

Finally, he turns to face me. His face is nearly as empty as his voice, save for the deep purple circles beneath his eyes. Those gorgeous, hazel eyes that are filled with a nameless agony he refuses to share with me. His hair is more tousled than usual, his shirt wrinkled, shoulders slumped. He looks like a man defeated. 

“Fuck baby, of course I’m not leaving you. I just- I need some time. To clear my head.” 

His eyes finally meet mine for a second, and he reaches for me. His fingers barely brush my cheek before he yanks them away, fisting them at his side.

I’m close on his heels as he storms into the living room, towards the front door. 

“But you are, Az. You’re choosing to leave instead of talk to me. We’re supposed to be partners, remember? We're getting married, Az .” I’m desperate now, my voice climbing an octave for every step he takes away from me. 

He stops with his hand on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at me. But he refuses to meet my gaze again. Like he can’t bear to look at me. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” 

His words hit me like a punch to the stomach, and all the breath leaves my body. A trembling begins in my hands. I feel untethered, like a boat abandoned at sea. 

“You don’t want to get married?” I rasp, hugging my arms around myself. Cold is seeping into my bones, my chest. I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again. 

Azriel struggles for words a few moments longer, a battle raging in the eyes I love most. He turns to me again and I see the tears building in them. I search his face for an explanation, silently begging him. Stay. Please stay. His voice is thick with emotion when he speaks. 

“We can talk about it later. I’m gonna stay with Cassian tonight.” 

He turns towards the door once more, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question that's been buzzing in my head for weeks. 

“Is that really where you’re going, Az?”My voice is clipped, cold to my own ears. He pauses, confusion clear on his face. 

“Are you sure there’s not someone else you’re seeing when you ‘go to Cassian’s’ ?” I demand, placing a hand on the dining table to my right.

 If he gives me the answer I’m expecting, I may well need the support. Azriel’s face goes blank with shock, and he leans back against the door, not able to stand on his own. 

“Jesus, Lor. I’m not fucking cheating on you.” He spits out, as he hoists the duffel bag over his shoulder. 

My relief is short lived.

He wrenches the front door open, and the ancient thing groans like it might very well come off its hinges. In that moment, something snaps inside me. 

“If you walk out that door, you might as well be leaving me. If you walk out right now, we’re done.” 

I expect the words to finally wake him up, to reach where he’s hidden himself away, and bring my Azriel back. The Azriel that planned a picnic for our first date, or ran through the ER with me in his arms when my appendix burst. The Azriel that asked me to marry him, then made love to me under the stars. 

But wherever that Az is, he’s far, far away.  

“I need to go. I’m sorry, Lor” 

After a moment of hesitation, he walks out the door. The sound of it closing like that of the lid of a coffin, sealing me inside.  Alone.

 I stay up all night, waiting for him to come back. Praying that he comes back. I lay alone in our bed, the sheets suddenly frigid and too abundant. All the extra leg room is a slap in the face. I watch the flames in the fireplace dying as the sun rises. Until all that’s left of that once roaring fire are embers. I watch until those too burn out, and go cold. 

I blink, the sound of another message breaking me free of the torturous cycle of  memories. I wipe traitorous tears from my cheeks and retrieve my phone from where I discarded it. 

Nesta: Hey, I might’ve let slip to Elain that you were thinking of moving home. And of course she told Lucien, who told Azriel. Apparently, he wasn’t pleased. I’m sorry, Lor. 

I sigh, type a quick reply and check the time. 9:58pm. Jesus, today has felt like a lifetime. I look around my apartment, at how dark and empty it's become as night has fallen. When I moved in, a week after Az left, I couldn't bring myself to decorate it. Because that would mean that this is home now, and not the house Azriel and I bought together. It would mean that the beautiful victorian in the suburbs was as gone as the life we could’ve lived in it. So, six months later, boxes sit in the corners. The walls are bare, the fireplace unlit even on the coldest of nights. And every night since has been glacial. Suddenly, the loneliness is nearly suffocating. I can’t spend another night just staring at the solitary wasteland my life has become.

All of my friends are together already, and he’s there. So going out alone it is. 

I blast music as I get ready in a rush, effectively drowning out every unwanted thought. I go a little heavy on the eyeliner, hopefully concealing any evidence of tears. I slip into my newest dress, gifted to me by Feyre on my birthday. It's the perfect balance of elegant and sexy. A lovely slip of wine colored silk, skin tight and just the right amount of revealing. Looking at myself in the mirror, I smile for the first time all night. 

Half an hour later, I’m shooting whiskey at Rita’s, scouring the dance floor for my next conquest. Probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I digress. The vast room is dark, the only lights being flashing rainbows of color timed to the music. Thick smoke snakes around the dancers, thanks to a mixture of incense and hidden fog machines. The scent of patchouli, sweat, and alcohol tickles my nose. Peculiarly enough, it's not a bad combination. 

As I’m scanning the crowd, nursing a glass of scotch, a pair of unusual green eyes catch my gaze. He’s easily six feet tall, dark haired, and moderately handsome. He’s sitting with his friends, but no longer paying attention to the conversation. Instead, his eyes are shamelessly undressing me, lingering on my exposed legs. When he eventually meets my eyes again, I give him a slow, inviting smile. It only takes him a few moments to cross the bar, and sit on the stool beside mine. 

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone on a saturday night?” 

I barely restrain an eye roll at his creative opening line. Instead, I lean closer and give him an obvious lookover. He’s definitely fit, his tight black shirt revealing a broad chest and toned abdomen. But I can’t help but note the lack of tattoos and scars. Once I’m done comparing him to Azriel, I meet his eager eyes again. 

“I’m not exactly alone now, am I?” 

The man smirks, and places a hand on my thigh. 

The next morning, I hurry my house guest out the door as soon as he wakes up. He tries to get my number, but I carefully maneuver my way out of that one. The sex was good, but not that good. 

I shower and dress, then scarf down a quick breakfast. As I’m drinking my second cup of coffee, I finally look around at my sad excuse of an apartment. It's not that the actual space isn’t nice. The hardwood floors are new and shiny looking, the walls a neutral gray, the countertops a gleaming marble. But like last night, it's overwhelmingly empty. 

I take a deep breath and decide today is the day. Hesitantly, I walk to the closest box and start cutting away the packing tape. Each stroke of the scissors is like another nail in the coffin of my old life. I ignore the tears that burn in my eyes and keep cutting. With my heart racing and eyes closed, I reach my hand in and grab the first object I touch. I take three deep breaths in an effort to center myself, and look down at what’s in my hand. 

“Oh for fucks sake.” I exclaim, my heart squeezing painfully. 

The cellophane wrapped bundle of blank wedding invitations glimmers in the morning sunlight, like the fangs of a poisonous snake. Beautiful, but deadly. With a cry, I hurl the invitations across the room. They land with a satisfying thunk against the far wall. I plop down next to the box, letting my head fall into my hands. The wound in my chest is raw and throbbing, an ever present pain. 

Of course it had to be the wedding invitations. It couldn’t be something easy, like a throw pillow or a bunch of CD’s. 

I lean my head back against the wall, and let my eyes fall closed. Would this ever stop hurting? Would there come a day where I wake up, and I don’t reach for him? 

 I’m staring at the box like the dangerous, wicked thing it is when a knock at the door rescues me from my own pity party. 

“Thank fuck.” I mutter to myself, eagerly jumping to my feet and practically running to the door. Nesta had said she’d be coming over today, and I thank my lucky stars at her timing. At least this way, I won’t have to unpack my old life alone. Nesta will help me. I’ll cry, she’ll make me laugh, and we’ll get drunk. Very drunk, knowing us. Maybe we’ll call Elain and Feyre. They’ll spend the night, and tomorrow will be easier. I’ll start looking at apartments in San Diego. As I’m opening the door, I take my first easy breath in days. 

“Thank god, Nes I need-” 

But it isn’t Nesta on the other side of the door. It's Azriel. 

“Hey, Lora. Can I come in?”

[niseamstories]

Tl;dr: The heavily revised physical edition Dreams of the Dying, my novel set in the Enderal universe, is now available for pre-order via Amazon via my website. Special early bird prices are $32.99 for the hardcover with an illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook. It’s a prequel featuring Jespar, but, for reasons outlined below, opens up a new canon. Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

Hey guys,

This is Nicolas, the writer of Enderal speaking. As some of you may know, I’ve been working on an Enderal novel, Dreams of the Dying. First released as a web version, I spent the past year completely rewriting and improving the book, adding and removing chapters, revising characters arcs, and improving plotting, worldbuilding, and style. In total, I rewrote the web edition three times from cover to cover. Well, it’s finally time: Dreams of the Dying is now available for pre-order on Amazon!

The English version of Dreams of the Dying will release on October 20. A German (and perhaps Russian) translation will follow as soon as possible.

Please note that this is a rendering and that the actual hardcover looks slightly different, with same format but a matte dust jacket and a matte, laminated case. A big shoutout to Dominik Derow for the cover artwork, Johanna Krünes for her cover design, and Joyce, for her tips, patience, and help with this product shot.

Jaaros Oonai, magnate, visionary, and master of coin, doesn’t muse about whether the glass is half empty or half full—only about ways to fill it.

Jespar Dal’Varek, drifter, mercenary, and master of avoidance, doesn’t muse at all. He’d rather just drink the damn wine.

Two lives that could not be more different intertwine when a strange contract leads Jespar to the tropical island empire of Kilay, the wealthiest nation of the Civilized World.

The mission turns out to be as bizarre as it is lucrative: Jaaros Oonai, the country’s merchant king, knows something that could stop a catastrophe, but he has fallen into an inexplicable coma. Together with an ex-priestess and a psychic, Jespar must enter Oonai’s dreams and find this secret.

What should have been a fresh start rapidly turns into a nightmare, as Jespar slides into a spiral of disturbing dreams, political intrigue, and clashing ideals, where not only the fate of Kilay but his own sanity are at stake. It’s not long before he learns that only a spider’s thread divides the sleeping and the awoken.

And that there’s no greater enemy than one’s own mind.

The hardcover edition comes with an appendix that includes additional lore, such as an illustrated bestiary, a guide to Kilayan fashion, illustrations of the (re-envisioned) seven Light-Born, a short guide to the Makehu language, and much more.

Even though Dreams could be considered a prequel, I didn’t write this as an expansion or fan service but rather as my debut, and a book that stands on its own. This edition differs vastly from the web version, and, though it is up to you to judge, I’m a million times happier with it.

If you’re on the fence and would like to wait for reviews—here’s hoping I get enough—I fully understand. However, if you would buy the novel, you’d do me a great favor if you considered pre-ordering. One of the biggest challenges as an indie author is exposure; since Amazon registers all pre-orders as Day 1 sales, a lot of Day 1 sales would give me a chance to climb in the novel’s category and boost visibility for readers outside the Enderal community. To make this worth it to you, the book will sell for a special early bird price of $32.99 for the hardcover with the illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook, as opposed to $37, $16, and $5. Just follow the link to my website and click pre-order—it will take you right to your local Amazon marketplace.

Unfortunately, Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

I’m aware the hardcover is in the upper price range, but it uses the best materials, and the illustrated appendix cost a lot to produce. It’s also the only edition where I make a more solid revenue, so see it as a way to support my work, if you wish.

If you’re a patron and pledged $110 or more since October 2018, I’ll be in touch a few weeks before launch to send out your signed hardcover copy right away. Thanks again for your support, Dreams became a far pricier project than I anticipated, and your patronage helped me immensely in covering the cost.

Lastly, a word of warning before you pre-order: For the paperback edition, I took the drastic step to separate Dreams and all future Enderal novels from the game canon. There are two good reasons for this. First, the Vyn games were created over 17 years, the earliest one being Myar Aranath in 2003. Fascinating as this idea may be, it also means that the lore of the Vyn universe was created by a myriad of different authors (the latest and current one being me when I joined the team in 2011). As a result of this, the lore of Vyn has always felt a little disjointed and inconsistent; I initially took these differences as challenges to conquer, but the longer I wrote, the more I realized how much these inconsistencies bothered me and how hard they made it to write the story and the universe I envisioned. Let me assure you that this decision wasn’t easy and does not reflect a lack of appreciation for the work of the previous workers. I stayed faithful to the lore whenever possible.

The second reason is a trickier one: Jespar. This character has been in my mind for nine years now, and I love him with all my heart. Still, the more I immersed myself in the story of Dreams, the more I grew aware of how incredibly constraining it was to write a story where the end is already written; because Jespar is alive in 8234 a. St. (1234 P.L. in new canon lore), you all know he will never be in real danger. Again, there is undoubtedly an intriguing challenge to writing such a “safe” story, but—similar to the lore, I increasingly felt like I was writing with fetters on. 

So, what does this mean? Aside from the fact that anything can now happen, the consequences aren’t that drastic. Enderal is still Enderal, and Jespar is still Jespar, albeit thirteen years younger and at another point in his life. I changed and expanded details about his backstory, but his essential conflicts are still the same, only refined. Major changes include modifications to the Light-Born (their aspects, how they came to be, when and how they disappeared, and the societal consequences of that disappearance), the time frame of the different eras, and a complete rework of the magic system. Minor changes include dates, the spelling of names and locations (Kilay, not Kilé), and others details I tweaked for consistency and worldbuilding coherence.

And that’s about it. I’m aware and grateful for the love many of you have for this world, and believe me, I did my best to honor it; I just realized I cannot tell a good story with one arm tied behind my back. If it’s any solace, I can promise you that new book canon is ironclad – I’m pathologically obsessive about consistency and cohesive worldbuilding, but without a solid framework, that’s a recipe for frustration and disaster. See it as a different but nearby eventuality: details and fates may differ, but the soul of the world remains the same.

If all that didn’t scare you off, pre-order away! I also set up a Goodreads page for the book, so you can add it to your To-Be-Reads or even recommend it to your friends – this is an indie project by all means, so I’m grateful for every bit of support. Please keep in mind that the Goodreads is for the revised edition, not the web edition, so if you’re planning to leave a low rating, I’d be grateful if you waited to read the actual book in October 20. It’s a different experience.

Last but not least, a big thank you to everyone who supported me on Patreon, created fanart for Enderal, or just let me know they enjoyed this game and were looking forward to the novel. This novel was meant to be a 6-month stint but, boy, did it turn into something more. It sounds sentimental, but this last year has been rough personally, and your support and encouragement kept me going.

I hope this story will live up to your expectations.

Best,

Nicolas

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[paradoxcase]

After Gandalf heals Theoden (in the book it is described as healing, there is no scene where Saruman is actually in possession of Theoden or where he personally battles Gandalf), he suggests that Theoden should send Eomer out to defeat Saruman (in the book Eomer was a prisoner at Edoras at this point, freed when Theoden was healed) and lead the rest of his people to a safe place.  Theoden says,

‘Nay, Gandalf!’ said the king.  ‘You do not know your own skill in healing.  It shall not be so.  I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of the battle, if it must be.  Thus shall I sleep better.’

There’s note on this piece of dialog in the companion, where basically, where someone wrote to Tolkien to complain about all the archaic dialog in the Two Towers, to which Tolkien responded, a) it’s appropriate to complain about people who use affected archaism without actually knowing how archaic English worked, but Tolkien is a linguist who studied the Anglo-Saxons and most certainly does know how archaic English worked and always uses it correctly, b) Tolkien has actually spent so much time studying Anglo-Saxons that he’s actually more comfortable with archaic English than with modern English anyway, and c) really, it could be much worse, Tolkien could have made the dialog even more archaic.

Then he provides some translations of this piece of dialog, first into “even more archaic”:

‘Nay, thou (n’)wost not thine own skill in healing.  It shall not be so.  I myself will go to war, to fall...’ etc.

And then into modern English:

‘Not at all my dear G.  You don’t know your own skill as a doctor.  Things aren’t going to be like that.  I shall go to war in person, even if I have to be one of the first casualties.’

He then wonders, what would come next?  He suggests “I shall lie easier in my grave”, but claims that no one who speaks modern English would say such a thing and thus it would sound out of place.  (It was only at this point that I realized that when Theoden said “thus I shall sleep better” he doesn’t mean literally that he will sleep better at night, but that his soul will rest easier after he dies.)

Anyway, I’m not entirely sure what Tolkien means here.  It’s not true that we don’t talk about resting or sleeping in death or the idea of being at peace versus not at peace after death, because we say “rest in peace”.  It is true that we don’t generally consider fighting in battle to have an effect on our souls after death, like I think the full weirdness of how medieval people regarded war is not fully apparent to us because all that stuff is dressed up in this medieval aesthetic which we’ve learned to regard as romantic and valorous.  Like, if a modern-day seventy-year-old army general unretired and decided to go fight on the front line of a war with the other soldiers because it was brave and valorous, in spite of this not being tactically beneficial and maybe it even being tactically a bad idea, we would think he was nuts.  But this is exactly what is happening in this scene with Theoden.  And yes, if you strip it of the aesthetic, it seems weird.  But this is fantasy, characters talk about things which seem new and strange to us as a matter of course.  Like, what type of dialog or aesthetic would you suggest for Mr. Weasley talking about how amazing and neat everyday modern technology is, or for the descriptions of Diagon Alley or other fantastic elements of Harry Potter?  Tolkien is obviously going for a particular time period here, as the companion frequently reminds me by continually explaining how everything about Rohan is really just Beowulf in Middle Earth, but I think there’s no reason you couldn’t express medieval ideas in modern English.  It’d sound odd, but isn’t that the point of fantasy?

Also:  In the scene where Theoden casts Wormtongue out, they do use some of the book dialog, but the movie is much more direct about it.  This is how it goes down in the book (if I may be pardoned by our lord and savior Tolkien for paraphrasing the dialog in modern English):

Hama: I found your sword, my lord, Wormtongue was keeping it in a locked chest, we also found a bunch of other stuff he’d stolen from other people in there, too.

Wormtongue: That’s not true!  Anyway, Theoden gave me this.

Theoden: And now I’m asking for it back.  Anyway!  Guess what?  We’re going to war.  And so are you.  Hurry up, you just have time to clean the rust off your sword.

Wormtongue: Oh please, my lord, please don’t send your loyal servant from your side!

Theoden:  I’m not.  I’m going to ride into battle too!  And you’ll come with me by my side.

Wormtongue: ...don’t you need a trustworthy steward to stay behind and keep the castle up?

Eomer: If this pathetic request doesn’t excuse you from war, what more degrading position will you accept instead?  Maybe you will offer to schlep grain to Helm’s Deep, if anyone would trust you with it?

Gandalf: No, no, you don’t understand what he wants.  He’s trying to find a way to continue working for Saruman.

Wormtongue:  That’s not true!

Gandalf:  You say that a lot.  Anyway, you’ve been a very good stooge so far, and Saruman tends to forget about nice things people have done for him.  Maybe you should go back and remind him what a good boy you’ve been so you can get your reward?  You see, Theoden, there’s a problem: we’ve found a snake.  It’s dangerous to take it with you, it’s dangerous to leave it here, it’s sensible to kill it but we probably shouldn’t.  So, give him a horse and let him go wherever he likes, and make your opinion of him based on what he chooses.

Theoden:  Ok, Grima.  Here’s your choice: you can come with me and ride to battle, or you can go off somewhere else.  Think carefully.  If you make the wrong choice, we probably shouldn’t meet again.

Wormtongue:

Slowly Wormtongue rose.  He looked at them with half-closed eyes.  Last of all he scanned Théoden’s face and opened his mouth as if to speak.  Then suddenly he drew himself up.  His hands worked.  His eyes glittered.  Such malice was in them that men stepped back from him.  He bared his teeth; and then with a hissing breath he spat before the king’s feet, and darting to one side, he fled down the stair.

Indicidentally, when most people hear Wormtongue’s name they probably think of worms.  But actually, it’s from wyrm, which is Old English for serpent (Rohirric is, basically, Old English).  He’s named that because he’s deceitful, not because he’s icky.

Minor shipping note: Apparently Tolkien originally intended for Aragorn to get together with Eowyn, and only added Arwen to the story later.  So, he didn’t actually plan for there to be a love triangle, he just changed his mind while writing the story and I guess didn’t want to get rid of the Aragorn/Eowyn UST in the new version.  Arwen does definitely seem like a character who was added at the last minute - in the movie she has actual scenes and dialog, and is an actual character with a personality, but in the book if you blink you miss her existence entirely.  Aragorn occasionally says things that have subtext related to Arwen, but if you’re reading for the first time you’ll completely miss this unless either a) you’re the kind of shipper who shipped Blaise Zabini before even knowing what gender he was, or b) you already read the appendix that’s about Aragorn and Arwen. 

Another note is that Wormtongue’s obsession with Eowyn is only mentioned in the above paraphrased scene as yet another thing that makes him awful, he doesn’t actually have any interactions with Eowyn at all, and presumably it is never important again because I don’t think Wormtongue is ever within arm’s reach of Eowyn ever again.

[somekindoftuber]

vld YouTuber AU (klance, part 8)

(content warning for this chapter: medical stuff, surgery, hospitals)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

(full disclosure that I am not a medical professional! I did some research but some things might be off but it’s fiction so just, uh. go with it)

-----

Waiting had never been so hard.

Lance had given the nurses as much info as he could before he was asked to move his car into the parking lot. He barely remembered doing so, quickly returning to the ER waiting room to sit in a chair and try not to break down. He’d called Shiro eight times. No response. He’d call Allura if he had her number, but he didn’t. No one was picking up at the Holt household, either - they were probably at work. Lance sent a frantic “call me asap!!” text to Shiro and then hung his head. He didn’t know how long he was sitting there when his phone buzzed in his hand.

Hunk hey man everything okay? the stream was supposed to start almost an hour ago

Oh god. The stream. Lance had forgotten all about it. He opened twitter to see his notifications blowing up, so many comments that he couldn’t even read them all. It didn’t matter, because they were all some variation of “where is the stream??” and Lance absolutely did not have it in him to do damage control right now.

Lance! @lanceylance stream cancelled due to emergency

Then he closed twitter, dropped his phone into his lap, and put his head in his hands. This had to be a nightmare. He’d stressed himself out over Keith’s visit and was just having a bad dream. Wake up, please wake up.

His phone vibrated. Lance snatched it up - the screen read Hunk’s number. Hunk was calling him. He almost dropped his phone in his haste to answer.

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice came through the speaker at his ear, tinny and distant. “What’s going on? What emergency? Why did you cancel the stream?”

“Hunk.” Lance felt his eyes sting as tears welled up in them, blurring his vision. “It’s Keith. He - he was fine and then he suddenly looked like he was dying, I brought him to the ER, I had to carry him in --” he cut off with a sob. So much for not crying in public.

“Which hospital?”

Lance sniffled loudly. “S-saint Joseph’s, the one on Candler street.”

“Stay there,” Hunk commanded. “I’m on my way.”

Lance could only whimper a confirmation before hanging up.

Someone called his name at some point. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, staring at the floor, his face itchy with drying tears. Lance looked up to find a nurse walking straight towards him, and immediately stood.

“Lance McClain?” she asked. “You brought in Keith Kogane, right?”

“Yes,” Lance’s throat went tight and he struggled not to panic. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Have you been able to contact his family?”

God, why couldn’t she just answer his question? “Not- not yet. I’ve been trying to reach his brother.”

She nodded, looking at the chart on her clipboard. “Your friend’s appendix burst. He’s being prepped for surgery now.”

“Oh my god,” it came out as an exhale. Lance felt hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

The nurse gave him a little smile. “Easy, he’s going to be fine. You got him here quickly, so the danger of sepsis has been minimized.”

Going to be fine. Keith was going to be fine. Lance heaved a breath and sat back down.

He spent the next hour twirling his phone in his sweaty hands. He was hungry and thirsty and the shitty ER waiting room chair was making his ass fall asleep, but he didn’t want to move. He wanted to see Keith, see with his own eyes that he was alive. But Keith was in surgery. A burst appendix, that was - that was really bad, wasn’t it? You could die from that, couldn’t you? No, she said Keith would be fine. They wouldn’t just lie to him, would they?

“Lance!”

He looked up to see Hunk rounding a corner, heading straight for him. Lance leaped to his feet and let Hunk wrap him up in a warm hug, sinking into his friend.

“I gotcha, buddy,” Hunk murmured into his hair. “I gotcha.”

“His appendix burst,” Lance told him, his voice wavering and cracking. “He’s in surgery.”

Hunk guided him back to a chair and sat beside him. “Breathe, Lance, breathe. He’s in good hands, this is one of the best hospitals in the state.” Hunk was rubbing a hand up and down Lance’s spine. “He’ll be fine.”

Lance nodded. Hunk always knew exactly what to say, what to do, how to keep anyone calm in a crisis. He led Lance to the bathrooms so he could wash his face, then bought him a sports drink and a bag of granola bites from a vending machine. Lance couldn’t stand the thought of eating, but managed to choke down some of it anyway.

“Better?” Hunk asked, taking the half empty drink from Lance’s hands and capping it.

“Yeah.”

Lance sat in silence as exhaustion began to set in. He heard Hunk call Pidge and explain what happened, but she was four hours away at a conference. Hunk was promising to take care of Lance for her. Was he really that pitiful?

Yeah. Yeah he was.

His heart went into overdrive when his phone rang, Shiro’s name on the screen.

“Lance,” Shiro sounded even more panicked than Hunk had. “What’s wrong?”

He was so tired, the drop off of adrenaline leaving Lance woozy as he explained what happened to Shiro. On the other end of the line, Shiro let out a long breath.

“I’m coming up,” he said, his voice hard. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep me posted.”

Lance sat in the chair with Hunk for another hour. Other people in the waiting room came and went, the setting sun that streamed through the windows painting the carpet gold. Lance could have passed out where he sat, if it wasn’t for the swift steps coming his way.

A tall man in scrubs with his hair covered by a surgeon’s cap was coming towards them. Lance stood so quickly that his phone and sports drink hit the floor.

“Keith?” Lance asked, the only word he could get out.

The surgeon nodded. “He’s out of surgery. Everything looks good, he should make a full recovery.”

Hunk had to reach out and catch Lance as he swayed, his knees threatening to give out.

“Have you been able to reach any of his family?”

Hunk answered for Lance, who probably wouldn’t have been able to speak if he tried. “His brother is on the way, but he lives on the other side of the state, so it’s gonna be a few more hours until he gets here.”

After they both gave detailed contact info to the receptionist, Hunk convinced Lance to go home and rest. He’d wanted to see Keith, but Lance wasn’t family, so he was denied. Hunk sent detailed texts to Shiro and Pidge about what happened, then loaded Lance into his car and drove them back to the apartment. Lance’s car would just have to sit in the hospital parking lot for a while.

Once home, Hunk had him shower and change his clothes, then practically dragged Lance to the couch, arranging him so that Lance’s head rested in Hunk’s lap. Lance fell asleep quickly as Hunk combed fingers through his hair.

He didn’t dream of anything, and before he even realized he was asleep, Hunk was shaking him awake.

“Hey, Shiro is almost here. I told him to meet us at the hospital.”

Hunk drove them back, street lights flashing over Lance’s face as they went, the sky now pitch black. They were in the ER waiting room for all of ten minutes before Shiro came bursting in like a tornado, going straight for the reception desk and asking about Keith.

“Shiro!” Hunk and Lance ran up to him. Shiro turned to them and he looked like hell, his eyes bloodshot and lined with dark circles. He didn’t say anything before reaching out and pulling Lance into a tight hug. Lance just hugged back.

With Shiro present, they were allowed to see Keith, and Lance’s heart was once again in his throat as a nurse led him and Shiro down a long hallway. Hunk offered to stay behind. They found a room and Lance gasped, because there was Keith. Dressed in a hospital gown, propped up on pillows, an oxygen tube in his nose and several cords sticking out of the collar of the flimsy garment. An IV was dripping into a needle stuck in the back of his hand, a paper bracelet on his wrist. A heart monitor next to him was beeping steadily as his chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm.

Shiro was already at the side of the bed, so Lance numbly followed. Keith’s skin was ashen, dark circles under his eyes, his hair tangled and dull.

“Keith?” Shiro called softly, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Keith, can you hear me?”

Keith’s eyelids fluttered before opening, drawing a lazy path to his brother’s face. “Sh...shir..o?” His voice was shredded.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Blinking, Keith seemed to wake up a little more, looking around the room. His eyes landed on Lance and lingered, and Lance smiled at him.

“Hey there, good lookin’.”

The corners of Keith’s mouth turned upward, just a tiny bit.

“Hi.”

Lance let Shiro talk to Keith, who was still pretty out of it - he was probably on some pretty strong pain meds. Reaching out, Lance indulged himself in petting Keith’s hair, smoothing it away from his temple. The roaring hot fever was gone, and Lance breathed a heavy sigh.

Keith nodded off again in the middle of a sentence. Shiro just laughed.

By then it was well past midnight. After talking with the doctors, Lance rode with Shiro back to his apartment while Hunk drove his own car. It wasn’t the setup he’d planned, but the pullout couch was ready with clean sheets, so Shiro brought in the tiny bookbag he’d packed and got ready for bed. Hunk went for Pidge’s room, apparently having already asked her permission. Lance collapsed into his bed, having barely managing to brush his teeth before passing out.

-----

Lance’s alarm went off at seven as it always did, and he snorted awake, groggy and disoriented. He stumbled into the living room, and it wasn’t until he saw Shiro asleep on the sofa bed that he remembered what happened.

Keith was in the hospital. His chest ached as he made a pot of coffee. It was enough to wake up Shiro, who sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Hunk came out of Pidge’s room a few minutes later, and went straight for the kitchen and found the waffle iron.

After blueberry waffles and coffee, Lance let Shiro shower first so he and Hunk could return Keith’s rental car. Shiro had apparently borrowed Mrs Holt’s sedan for the five hour drive, and Lance couldn’t blame him. He’d been in Shiro’s old truck, the shocks were almost non-existent.

Lance showered and dressed, then went to the hospital. He was directed to a different waiting room this time, so he texted Shiro and Hunk to let them know where to go. Hunk had to get back home as soon as he could, so he stayed just long enough to give Lance a tight hug, then he was gone. Shiro and Lance were led to another room where Keith was staying for the next few days to recover from surgery. He was awake this time, though groggy.

They chatted a little, then Shiro left to use the restroom - or at least that’s what he said, but given how he’d shot Lance a knowing smile, it was probably a pretense. Lance went to Keith’s bedside and leaned his face into his hair. He wanted so much to hug him, but he was still hooked up to all sorts of machines, wires and cords everywhere.

Keith patted his arm. “Sorry about the stream.”

Laughing, Lance snuggled his nose against Keith’s scalp. He smelled like sweat and plastic and hospital antiseptic, but he didn’t care. Keith was okay.

“It’s fine.” He frowned. “I mean, I think. I haven’t checked twitter since yesterday.”

Keith laughed softly. “Your followers are probably pissed.”

“I should probably tweet something.” Lance took out his phone. “What should I say? I won’t tell the internet what happened if you don’t want me to.”

Keith shrugged, a dopey smile on his face. “I don’t care. Post a photo of me all wired up if you want.”

“You sure that’s not the pain meds talking?”

Keith laughed again, then put a hand over his stomach, wincing. “Probably.”

As carefully as he could, Lance sat next to Keith and put an arm around his shoulder, then opened his photo app and set it to the front-facing camera. He leaned into Keith’s hair, smiling when Keith leaned back and gave a weak peace sign with the hand that had the IV and heart monitor cuff.

Lance snapped the photo, then showed Keith, who smiled and leaned back on his pillows. “Tell twitter I said ‘I lived, bitch.’”

It was hard not to laugh as Lance carefully composed the tweet, attaching the photo of himself and Keith.

Lance! @LanceyLance Hey everyone, sorry for the cancelled stream yesterday. About an hour before we were going to start, Keith’s appendix decided to go out in a blaze of glory, so we ended up in the ER instead. He’s out of surgery and on the mend! He wants me to tell you all: “I lived, bitch.”

Lance hit ‘tweet,’ then pocketed his phone.

-----

Keith spent another two days in the hospital.

Lance and Shiro visited several times a day. Keith became more lucid, though as the pain meds were tapered off, he looked more uncomfortable. Once he learned the details of Keith’s surgery, Lance understood how serious it was - they really had to slice into him to clean out where his appendix had burst. It would take a month to heal completely.

When Keith was discharged, he was carefully loaded into the back of Lance’s car and driven back to the apartment. He wasn’t cleared for long distance travel yet, so he’d be hanging out here for another three days. He could barely walk on his own, still stitched up and sore, so it took both Lance and Shiro to get him into the apartment and to Lance’s room. They carefully hoisted Keith onto Lance’s bed and propped him up on the pile of pillows that was prepared for him.

“I’ll get you some water,” Shiro said, then left.

In the quiet of the bedroom, Lance carefully sat on the edge of the bed and observed Keith. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks, though his eyes were still lined with dark circles. His hair was visibly oily, as was his skin - major surgery meant no showering. Lance had been there once.

“You’re staring.”

Lance snapped out of his trance to find Keith’s barely-open eyes trained on him, a tiny smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” Lance laughed softly. “You just… kinda gave me a scare.”

“Didn’t mean to.”

Reaching out, Lance took one of Keith’s hands and gave it a little squeeze. “Sorry this weekend turned sour.”

Keith shook his head, resting his other hand on his stomach, over the place where the surgery bandages still sat. “It’s not your fault. I’m pretty sure my appendix would still have exploded if I’d stayed home.”

Lance frowned. “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t.”

“But--”

Keith opened his eyes, tugging on where their hands were laced together. “Lance.” He kept pulling until Lance was forced to lean forward, planting his other hand on the mattress to support his weight. Keith’s other hand came up to cradle Lance’s cheek, pulling him in, and--

Keith kissed him.

It was soft and slow and Keith was kissing him, just a gentle press of lips, and Lance couldn’t even care that Keith hadn’t showered in days because his lips were soft and warm. Inhaling through his nose, Lance leaned into it, letting Keith hold him in place.

When they broke apart with a tiny smack, Lance hovered, lightheaded. Keith just grinned at him and settled back in his pillow nest with a sigh.

Lance’s heart was about to burst out of his chest. “Oh,” he breathed, stopping to lick his lips. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry, I know I’m kinda gross right now,” Keith said, not opening his eyes. “But in my defense, I was planning on doing that this weekend anyway. I just got delayed.”

Straightening his spine, Lance raised an eyebrow. “Oh, were you now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Keith shifted in place a bit. “Now get over here and sit with me.”

Lance obeyed, climbing up to curl against the side of the pillow nest, reaching for the TV remote. He was intensely glad to have a queen sized bed, flicking on the TV and finding the Disney Channel. He had a shift at work tomorrow, but Shiro was staying to take care of Keith.

-----

Three days later, Keith was loaded into Colleen Holt’s borrowed sedan, finally cleared to make the five hour drive home.

It had been a very, very strange three days. Keith had pretty much lived in Lance’s bed, rarely moving. Shiro had to help him to the bathroom, help him take little psuedo-baths (he couldn’t shower for another week until the stitches healed) and change his clothes, and Keith could only eat soup and soft things. But overall, he seemed in high spirits, asking Lance to bring in his laptop and play Overwatch so Keith could spectate. Pidge came home from her conference, giving Lance one of the most intense hugs he’d ever had.

Keith had complained about feeling gross, especially his hair, so Lance had run to the pharmacy to grab a can of unscented dry shampoo. Although he was skeptical, Keith let Lance use it on him, spraying his scalp and combing it through his now thoroughly greasy hair. It worked a fair amount, and it gave Lance an excuse to play with Keith’s hair.

Now that it was over and Keith was heading home, Lance was going to miss him. A lot. He’d gotten used to having him close at all times, and he enjoyed sleeping next to Keith in the same bed more than he was willing to admit. Lance gave a fleeting thought to the Springdale Community College enrollment website and smiled.

“Have a safe drive,” Lance said, leaning into the car where Keith was buckled into the passenger seat and giving him a little peck on the lips.

Keith grinned. “Thanks, I’ll text you when we’re home.”

As they drove off, Lance put his hand to his chest and let out a long breath, watching it turn into a puff of white in the freezing early December air.

.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

[randomoranges]

lol lamao. so like back in the day, i used to tutor a kid who was in sec 1 or 2 for english. and lamao. i had her read the chapters of this thing and had come up with questions - kind of like a small reading comprehension. i can’t believe i did that willingly XD

also, i had TOTALLY forgotten about this part in the grand scheme of the plot lamao

So Totally OP!

Part 9

 “I was also the one that gave her first kiss.” He seemed to be proud of that as though he knew something about me that I didn’t. One thing I did know was that the moment I heard those words, something inside of me started to burn. What was happening to me? I couldn’t possibly fall for the director! I was flawless and had no faults. Girls were supposed to fall for me, not the other way around.

 -

“Hey Taro, are you all right? You look kind of green all of a sudden.” I could barely hear him speak. I felt like I was going to die right there and then. But I was too young to die! I still hadn’t achieved eternal beauty! I heard Jake scream something and then there was nothing but black. Was I blind? Would I never be able to look at my gorgeous reflection ever again?

 When I opened my eyes again, there was light; lots of light. I had to shut my eyes to adjust my perfect vision. When I opened them again I saw a white ceiling and many faces peering down on me. Since when had the ceiling at OP been white?

 “Thank goodness he’s awake!” I heard someone say. So I had been asleep? Had I fallen and dreamt that I was a beautiful being on my way to success? Had I never truly entered the world of OP? Was I actually an ugly duckling that was poor and deformed? Oh please nothing but that! I would never be able to live if I wasn’t beautiful!

 “Appendix! Of all the stupid things that could have happened to you, it had to be your appendix, Taro! Honestly, what were you thinking?! You had us all worried sick! Thank goodness Jake was there to save your life. I can’t believe it! The appendix!” My sister said walking around in circles near my bed.

 I blinked, confused. Was that the discomfort I had felt earlier? Did it mean that I didn’t feel anything for the director, after all? I was relieved. Thankfully, it was only my appendix and it hadn’t been my beauty that had been affected. But alas, that meant that my beautiful body wasn’t perfect anymore. My stomach would be scared for life.

 “Why did this have to happen to me?” I murmured to myself. The others looked at me incredulously.

 “Now I can’t be perfect anymore. I’ll have a scar. I would have preferred dying instead. That way I would have been able to preserve my beautiful body.” I felt miserable and tired. The only happiness that I had was that Mr. Luke was still on his vacation and that the burning feeling in my stomach had not been because I was starting to feel something for the director.

 “How could you say that!? I can’t believe you Taro! You’re so vain! How can you be so egoistic and selfish? Does that mean that if you were to be amputated you would rather die? Is that it? I can’t believe that someone with so much potential would just want to throw it all away for something as silly and as small as a two inch long scar. You’re such a jerk!” The director blinked back a few tears but some still rolled down her cheeks. She turned around and ran out of the room. Mr. Make-Up Director followed her out to try and comfort her. I didn’t know why what I had said upset her, but for the first time in my life, I felt bad. This was a completely new concept for me. How did people deal with this sensation of having done something wrong?

 “Nice job man, really ten on ten. That was real intelligent of you.” Ben told me. How did they expect me to make things better if I didn’t even know what I had done wrong?

 “We’re leaving.” They left and my sister told me to put on my wig incase Mr. Luke came to visit me since he was returning later in the evening. I spent the rest of the day sleeping and thinking. Usually, when girls used to get upset at me I would shrug it off and not pay attention to it. It seemed that the director’s words kept haunting me. She was upset at me and she had praised me in a way.

 I was lost in my thoughts and I didn’t even notice Mr. Luke come in my room, later that evening. I was glad that I still had my wig on and that my sister had brought it along. He came running in the room and literally jumped on the bed. He hugged me tight and I couldn’t even move.

 “I was so worried about you! I’m glad you’re okay. I – I love you Nathalie!” His confession shocked me so that I couldn’t push him away until the deed was done and his lips were on mine.

PREVIOUS: VIII CURRENT: IX NEXT: X

[artemisbarnowl]

Epilogue, princeps, addendum, and appendix for the books ask?

Ah thank you!

Epilogue: what book made me cry

answered here and here but a THIRD (luckily I’m a sensitive soul) would be Stasiland by Anna Funder. This book is about East Germany and it’s secret police, told through a journalist gathering interviews. I don’t Always cry, and it’s not Bawling, but there’s one part where the journalist is trying to meet with a woman who wanted to speak with her leaving a message to say goodbye and finally getting a ‘wait if you’re still here come now’ sort of thing, tied with the part that describes the effect the stasi had on this woman, living somewhere open, up high, with no doors, unable to make plans and keep them, and it just breaks my heart a little.

Princeps: popular author I don’t like

So many! most fit into the ‘pop movie’ theme of book, Matthew Reilly gets special mention here, as I only read ‘the great zoo of china’ and still I got beat over the head with ‘i want to make action movies please let me make action movies’ So. Many. Times. There are so many ways to write action in books that doesn’t do that, but I found he REALLY took me Out of the book, which the opposite of what you want to do I think. I think everyone loves to hate Dan Brown but he’s on here too because unfortunately he counts as popular so can be the posterboy for male writer self insert nausea.

Addendum: A book trope I can’t stand

aside male self inserts, enemies to lovers is one I really struggle with because for me the change is so often inexplicable? Not necessarily Sworn Enemies either, it often happens with ‘i am here because I have to be but I don’t like you, or your way of life and share few of your values’ and then it sort of just turns into ‘I’ve spent so much time around you I suddenly like your faults for some reason, even though I still don’t like your way of life and share few of your values’ Sometimes when I realise a protagonist suddenly loves someone they’ve been rolling their eyes over I get all ‘wait, what?’ and the explanation doesn’t seem to deliver? I’m willing to admit this could just be the way I’m wired as a person, as I need reasons for everything. And while I KNOW that a lot of preconceptions about someone might be incorrect and getting to know them better often results in more positive feelings, sometimes the justification for LOVE is weak. but then again, who has justifications for love in real life either.

Appendix: Overdone book trope I still love

arguably Not overdone, but I will always love ‘nobody suspects the old lady’. Miss Marple is queen here, and Ms Duszejko also falls into this. It’s not even necessarily about whether they commit a crime, but rather nobody expects old women to be capable of anything and just ignore them to their Extreme Detriment. I want to see more of this. I would probably be happy reading exclusively books that use this in some way.

book ask prompt here

[alwaysgcld]

(i am so late with this but i loved learning more about malia and henry so much i wanted to do it too)

The Basics

Name? Benigno Jae Park

Age? 29 30

Approximate height? 6’3”

Hair color? Black

Eye color? Dark Brown

Do they speak with an accent? No

Where are they from? Kingston, New York

Where are they now? Stardew Valley

Backstory

Who are their parents? Minerva Park, Nico Park (née Monti)

What is their earliest memory? Watching his father cook breakfast as he hums along to music he has playing. That is until his mother enters, going for her morning cup of coffee. His father swoops her into his arms, dancing her around the kitchen as he serenades her to Queen’s Somebody to Love. When his mother has to leave, his father scoops Ben up and dances him around instead.

What did they want to be when they grew up? As a young child, a chef like his father. When he got a bit older however, he realized he wanted to be a doctor. 

What did/do their parents want them to be? Both of his parents always just wished for him to be happy. His father had really hoped he would end up finding happiness with working in the family restaurant as a chef or in management.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? Brothers or sisters? An only child.

Do they have or have they ever had children? How many? No children

Do they or have ever had a significant other? Are they still with them? Why? Why not? Yes, he has had two serious relationships in his life. His first one was in high school with a boy named Andy. It lasted for a little over a year, and ended once Ben found out Andy was cheating on him. His second one started when he was in his first year of medical school. His relationship with Perri lasted for five years, and during the last year of their relationship they were engaged. The breakup was a mutual decision. Even so, he was really broken up about it for awhile. He is currently single.

Up until now, what’s the most noteworthy thing they’ve done? To them? To the people around them? He doesn’t think he’s done anything noteworthy yet. But to his family disagrees. He became a doctor at such a young age and managed to graduate top of his class even though he was juggling so many things in his personal life at the time.

Tastes

What’s your character’s favourite colour? Green, specifically darker shades like a pine green. Maroon or like amber is probably his second favorite.

Do they/would they choose to wear a scent? What would it be? Something with notes of sandalwood. Maybe has a specific cologne he wears for work (a lighter scent)  and one for other occasions.

Do they care about what things look like? All things, or only some? To a certain extent. He likes to look well put together, but it’s not something he worries entirely about.

What’s their favorite ice cream flavor? Anything with chocolate and/or strawberries, honestly. Also, has a special love for mint chocolate chip.

Are they a tea, or coffee drinker? Or soft drinks, or do they drink a lot of alcohol? What kind? He enjoys tea and coffee, but prefers coffee. Not a huge fan of soda; only really drinks like coke when he’s eating something spicy. Drinks any kind of alcohol. Wine and whiskey are his go to options.

What kind of books do they read? What TV shows and movies do they watch? Mostly reads mystery or true crime novels thanks to his mom. If it seems interesting, he’ll read anything. As for TV shows and movies, he prefers fast paced ones with lots of action. Not a huge fan of shows with lots of drama, like relationship drama, but does watch like soap operas with his nonnina, aunts, and uncles/Korean dramas with his aunts and cousins since it lets him have quality time with them. Plus he gives excellent commentary.

What kind of music do they like? Do they like music at all? Better question would be what kind of music does he not like? That would be country. Ben loves music.

If they were about to die, what would they have as their last meal? Please do not torture him by asking this. He’d never be able to pick a single dish.

Are they hedonistic? In all cases? Or does practicality sometimes/always/often win out? No, he’s more eudaimonistic/eudaemonistic if anything.

Do they have any philias or phobias? Mildly claustrophobic.

Morals, Beliefs, and Faith

Do they have an internal or an external moral code? Sort of a mix, but primarily internal.

To what extent are their actions dictated by this code? Wholly.

Do they believe in a God or Gods/Goddesses/Higher being of some description? He neither has faith nor disbelief in a God or Gods/Goddesses. In other words, he’s agnostic.

Are they superstitious? To a degree.

Do they believe in an afterlife? If so, what’s it like? He believes in an afterlife, yes. He has no idea what’s it like though.

Do they have any specific beliefs that manifest obviously? No.

Are the respectful of the beliefs of others? To what extent? Yes, he is extremely respectful of other people’s belief. Unless they try to force him or anyone else to share said beliefs. Or use them to justify their awful behavior.

Have they ever had to stand up to criticism for being religious? Or not being religious? Well, sort of in a way? It’s a long story.

Would they be more likely to act for the good of the one, or the good of the many? The good of the many.

Relationships

Do they make friends easily? Yes! 

Do they have a best friend? He’s the sort of person who has more than one best friend, that’s he acquired during different portion of his life. There’s Mari (his childhood best friend), Oz (his soccer best friend), Emery (college best friend), and Max (med school best friend). Hasn’t gotten that close to anyone in the valley to consider them a best friend.

Can they get people to do what they want them to? If so, how? Yes. Usually just by being his charming self.

Do they have a lot of romantic relationships? Serious, or short term? Hasn’t had any romantic relationships since moving to the valley. He’s serious when it comes to dating, not one for short term stuff.

Do they fall in and out of love easily? No, it takes time for him to fall in love. Even more for him to fall out.

Do strangers and acquaintances actually like them when they meet? Yeah. I mean, what isn’t there to like?

Do they have a network? Yes! 

What is their relationship like with their family? Great! He’s close with his parents and his extended family on both sides. Even the part of his mother family that lives in Korea. Not so much with the family members that live in Italy from his father’s side. Not anymore, at least. 

Are they still in touch with non-family people they were in touch with a year ago? Five years? Ten? More? Yes. He’s known his oldest friend for at 20 years. It’s hard to get rid of him once you’ve made it to a certain of level of friendship with him.

Do they like children? Do they want children of their own? He loves children. He considered being a pediatrician at one point because of that. Definitely plans to have children of his own one day. 

Physical Appearance

How does this character dress? How would they choose to dress, if all options were open to them? King of business causal. Tries to stick with slacks when working at the clinic, otherwise he’s wearing a nice pair of jeans. Seems to always have his clothes layered go to is a pull-over sweater over a button-down shirt. All of his clothes are rather nice. Not exactly high-end, but clearly money well spent. See visuals for his style here.

Do they have any tattoos? What do they mean? Has a tattoo of a larkspur on his left hip. He got the tattoo when he was eighteen with a few friends; each of them got a tattoo of birth month flower. In general, larkspurs denote love, affection, and ardent attachment.

Do they have piercings? How many? No piercings.

Do they have scars? Where did they come from? Has a scar on his right temple from an altercation when he was a teen. And another one on the lower right part of his abdomen from when he had his appendix taken out. Both are faint.

Do they alter their appearance in some way on a regular basis? No. 

Is there something they’d choose to change about their appearance if they had the opportunity to? No, not really.

Is there something about their appearance they’re particularly proud of/happy with? His smile.

Objectively, are they physically attractive? Fairly plain? Unattractive? OP says hell yeah, have you seen him??

Do they have an accurate mental picture and opinion of their physical appearance? Yes.

How much time do they spend thinking about their physical appearance? Not as much as one might assume.

General Knowledge

Can they navigate their own local area without getting lost? To what degree? Yes, he is familiar with the town and all the surrounding area at this point of the valley.

Do they know who the top politician or monarch is where they live? What about elsewhere? Yes, he is aware both of where he lives and elsewhere. 

Do they know if/where there are any major conflicts going on right now? Yes.

Do they know the composition of water? Of course.

Do they know how to eat a pomegranate? Yes.

Are they good with the technology available to them? Average? Completely hopeless? Very good with technology.

Could they paint a house? Without making a mess of it? Yes.

Could they bake a cake? Would you eat it if they did? Yes and yes.

Do they know how to perform basic maintenance on the common mode of transportation? Knows how to perform basic maintenance on bicycles and cars.

Do they know the price of a loaf of bread? Yes.

Specific Knowledge

Do they have a specific qualification in a narrow area? Yes, he has a B.S. degree in psychology and a medical degree.

Is there something they do or know exceptionally well that most other people don’t? Aside from the doctor stuff? He wouldn’t say he does or knows anything exceptionally more than most people.

Do people often comment on a particular skill or area of knowledge to this character? Behind their back? Usually gets surprised reactions when people find out how many additional skills he has on-top of being a doctor. He’s sure people talk about it behind his back, but he doesn’t care enough to find out to what extent.  

Is there an area this character could be considered top of their field or a genius in? By no means considers himself a genius of his field compared to others. He was the top of his class in medical school though.

Have they deliberately sought to gain knowledge in a specific area? If so, why? Yes. He majored in psychology since he was interested to learn more about how the brain works. Minored in dance for fun. And of course pursued a medical degree because he wanted to become a doctor to help people.

Do they speak more than one language? More than two? Why? Is fluent in several languages: English, Italian (due to his father’s side), Korean (due to mother’s side), and Spanish (from taking it in high school since they wouldn’t let him take Italian plus Mari taught him it). Vaguely knows Greek and Latin from medical lingo. Latin is a tad bit stronger because father’s side of family are Catholics.

Does their cultural background effect what they would be expected to know? Yes?

Have they ever been publicly acknowledged for being well-versed in something? Yes, he was valedictorian of his high school class and was acknowledged as top student during his med school graduation.

Have they ever been bullied for knowing a lot about something? No.

Do they actively seek new knowledge, or let it come to them naturally? A mix of both. He enjoys learning more, he’s not picky on how that new knowledge enters his life.

Miscellaneous

What did they have for breakfast this morning? An omelette with a side of fruit.

What ridiculous belief/s did they have as a child? That birds were having an important meeting when they sat in groups on telephone wires.

Do they like marshmallows? Loves marshmallows! Especially toasted ones.

Do they sleep on their side, front, or back? Tends to start off on his side, and end up on his front or back at some point while sleeping.

Do they work better with sound or silence? With sound.

Do they have a strange obsession with something minor? Looping back to the last question, he can’t stand silence. So he always has to have some sort of sound going on, whether it’s a conversation with someone, an audiobook, or music. If none of those are readily available, he will make his own sound which is how he got the habit of singing to himself so often.

Do they like art? He loves art! His college best friend was an art major and he has several of his pieces hanging up in the clinic and his apartment.

How fast can they run? Remarkably fast. 

Do they prefer to sit on the floor or on a chair? Honestly, will sit anywhere given the chance, he is not picky.

What do they want, right now? There isn’t really anything that he wants at the moment. He’s content. At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself.

[a-third-attempt]

Raising Bell (pt. 1)

 * * *

Defamation, Libel. 8 cts: First Presbyterian, Chittenden County &c. (see Appendix C)

 * * *

“We’ve got her”, I said.

“Jason. I’ve told you a million times not to barge in here after— Who?”

The boss’s desk is big, but he makes it look small. Tall and fat, he always wears a dark brown coat that somehow makes him an even more imposing presence. You'd never catch him during working hours without a cigar in his mouth, and even then you’d never catch him for more than a couple seconds at a time. He wasn't the easiest guy to get along with, but the only reason this operation was still in the black was because that man worked around the clock to make it go. At the moment he was busy with paperwork, a task that he never started until 7:00 at the earliest, because “the real work goes on when the sun is up, kid!”

“Dorothy,” I said.

“Dorothy McAdams?”

“Dorothy McAdams.”

His eyebrows raise and he offers a breathless “Dorothy McAdams...” in reply. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“She came to town because of her brother, and the word on the street is that she’s sticking around for a year or two. Besides that,” I smile broadly, “I suppose it’s just to your credit for hiring such a charming talent agent, that got her to call you back before St. Anthony.”

He grunts. That was a little too showy for any other day, but with Dorothy in my pocket he’d damn well better cut me some slack.

“How much did it cost me?”

“Well, sir...”

“Snap it out Jason, I haven’t got all night.”

“Sorry, sir. Salary isn’t worth writing home about, double what the other four-in-handers get. And no signing bonus, just a condition.” I pause. He removes the cigar from his mouth and waves it in a circle, annoyed that I'm talking so slow. “We have to take on a kid named Timothy Courtson.”

“Who the hell is Timothy Courtson?”

“Does it matter?” I say, confidently.

“It might,” he snaps back. I guess he's right. Could be an arsonist, he always says. That sure would be bad for business, you know. I glance down at the file in my hand, and swallow hard.

“It doesn’t.”

“He any good?”

I’m sure the millisecond of silence was answer enough, but I answered him. “He can play C and D4.”

He puts the cigar back in his mouth and smirks. “So, no.”

“Positively dire, sir. But it’s no bonus with the kid; 2.5 without.” A second of silence is all it takes to get the words spilling out of my mouth. I spent too much money on her and if I lost the cash back… “Look, we just double up Karen and shift down the bass. The kid can sound like a dying cat and nobody’s going to know the difference down there. Garrett can teach him to mart properly and he’ll get the rest in the extra lessons from Tanya.”

He waves away my explanation. “Yeah, yeah, Jason. You made the right call. Good work.”

I bow my head, and take the opportunity to collect myself, knowing that the goodwill won’t last long. “There— sorry, there’s another thing. Louis told me to give you this.”

I hold the file out to him, and he recoils. “Does it look like I've got the time to read this thing?”

“Please, boss. It's important.”

He snatches the file in one hand, and with the other he grabs a pair of comically undersized glasses. Plopping them on his nose, he opens it and starts reading. It takes about three seconds for the color to drain from his face and his mouth to twist into a bitter scowl.

“What the SAM HELL is this, Jason?” I shrug. Could have been worse, if we're being honest.

“Just a list of notes that Louis kept when he had her, and everything he could find about her past behavior.”

He starts to shout at me again, but thinks better of it and rubs his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

“Language.” It’s instinct, but I know it’s a bad idea from the instant the word comes out of my mouth.

“Jesus Christ have mercy on this woman’s soul,” he snaps back. “But judging by this rap sheet, there’s not much chance of that.”

“She’s a genius. Every genius has some quirks.”

“Hell with quirks, Jason. This is a problem.”

The words hang silently in the smokey air of his office. He tosses the folder to the side and turns away from me, looking out the window at the view of nothing, just a few yellow streetlamps and the broad side of the next concrete building.

“You still want her, though, right?”

He’s quiet, still facing away from me, but there’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“We’ll just have to keep a tighter leash than Louis did.”

“Take your good-for-nothing file and get out of here,” he grunts softly, and I oblige. As frightening as Boss can be when he’s a swirling rage, I know he’s much scarier when he gets that quiet.

 * * *

A/N: As usual, you can see the entire writing process below the break.

==========

==========

Second Draft

See savefile-1 for suggested edits. I don’t think we need to do a full rewrite of this, but if you get inspired, this would be the draft to do it. I think the original was pretty inspired, though, and it went though a lot of revision with all the retellings.

 * * *

Okay, I’m just going to let this one go through on the second draft. It’s fine and I’m too drunk to do real edits. Maybe if I can stay sober for a whole night I’ll make it work, but fuck Coronavirus, amirite?

==========

First Thoughts

Okay, let’s do the first person thing.

What does Jason notice in their narration? They notice Boss, first and foremost. Boss is tempermental and demanding, so this is a survival mechanism. And with such sensitive information that he’s bringing, he needs to be hypervigilant. 

What does he miss? Emotions, for anyone except Boss— and even then, only as they’re written in his face and serve as tells toward his behavior in the immediate future, or things that he does(n’t) want to hear.

Also, it’s not that he misses it, but he’s not going to wax too poetic about the office; he works there, and he works long hours too.

From all these outbursts, especially with Boss— forgivable because of the situation, but not ideal— we can tell that Jason doesn’t have much impulse control. Even though I don’t like the ‘not even for’ line, this characterization might not quite come through without it. Play around.

Dropping the F bomb feels just a little off. It's not about the “Language” outbust (that's part of what makes the joke); it's just that Boss is someone who commands enough respect that they don’t have to lash out to get what they want. And yes, this McAdams’ rap sheet is pretty wild but it just seems like he would say it a tad more eloquently.

You should probably, at some point, actually draft this rap sheet. For the extended version I can easily see each chapter starting with an item from the sheet, when the chapter is about shenanigans in that regard.

If we’re going to call this Chap 1 instead of Prologue, I could easily see the line item here being:

Defamation, Libel. 8 cts: First Presbyterian, Chittenden County &c. (see Appendix C)

I mean obviously I’m making this citation style up wholesale, which is okay because the real citations are in the appendix, duhhhhh. Also obviously I don’t need it to be Chittenden County, Vermont; but wherever it is, is presumably where Louis runs his empire.

==========

First Draft (written over multiple sessions)

“We’ve got her”, I said.

“Jason I’ve told you a million times not to barge in here with— Who?”

[Exposition]

“Dorothy,” I said.

“Dorothy McAdams?”

“Dorothy McAdams.”

His eyebrows raise and he offers a breathless “Dorothy McAdams...” in reply. He looks up at nothing in particular, visions of fame and fortune surely filling his head. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“She came to town because of her brother, and the word on the street is that she’s sticking around for a year or two. Besides that,” I smile broadly, “I suppose it’s just to your credit for hiring such a charming talent agent, that got her to call you back before St. Anthony.”

He grunts. That was a little too showy for any other day, but with Dorothy in my pocket he’d damn well better cut me some slack.

“How much did it cost me?”

“Well, sir...”

“Snap it out Jason, I haven’t got all night.”

“Not even for Dorothy McAdams?” Probably shouldn’t have said that; my wit got the better of me. He glares.

“No.”

“Sorry, sir. Salary isn’t worth writing home about, double what the other 4-in-handers get. And no signing bonus, just a condition.” I pause. He removes the cigar from his mouth with his hand, that he then waves in a circle, annoyed at my slowness. “We have to take on a kid named Timothy Courtson.”

“Who the hell is Timothy Courtson?”

“Does it matter?” I say, knowingly.

“It might,” he snaps back. I guess he’s right. He always is.

“It doesn’t.”

“He any good?”

I’m sure the millisecond of silence was answer enough, but he’s clearly not in the mood for games. “He can play C and D4.”

He puts the cigar back in his mouth and smirks. “So, no.”

“Positively dire, sir. But it’s either 0 bucks with the kid, or 2.5 without.” He doesn’t answer, and my words start spilling out. “Look, we just double up Karen and shift down the bass. The kid can sound like a cat on meth and nobody’s going to know the difference down there. Garrett can teach him to mart properly and he’ll get the rest in the extra lessons from Tanya.”

He waves away my explanation. “Yeah, yeah, Jason. You made the right call. Good work.”

I swallow, knowing that the goodwill won’t last long. “There—there’s another thing. Louis told me to give you this.”

I pass over the file. He grabs a pair of comically undersized glasses, glaring sarcastically at me. Putting them on, he opens it and starts reading. It takes about three seconds for the color to drain from his face and his mouth to twist into a bitter scowl.

“What the SAM HELL is this, Jason?”

“Just a list of notes that Louis kept when he had her, and everything he could find about her past behavior.”

He starts to shout at me again, but thinks better of it and rubs his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

“Language.” It’s instinct, but I know it’s a bad idea from the instant I say it.

“Jesus Christ have mercy on this woman’s soul,” he snaps back. “But judging by this rap sheet, there’s not much chance of that.”

“She’s a genius. Every genius has some quirks.”

“These aren’t some fucking quirks, Jason.”

The words hang silently in the smokey air of his office. He tosses the folder to the side and turns away from me, looking out the window at the view of nothing, just a few yellow streetlamps and the broad side of the next concrete building. I look at him. He doesn’t move.

“You still want her, though, right?”

He’s quiet, but there’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“We’ll just have to keep a tighter leash than Louis did.”

“Get the hell out of here,” he grunts softly, and I oblige. As frightening as Boss can be when he’s a swirling rage, I know he’s much scarier when he gets that quiet.

==========

Who needs Brainstorming or Freewriting?

What actually is happening here is that I wrote this almost four months ago so the writing process looks a lot different than I’m trying to do now. But I really wanted to get this polished up a bit, so I committed to posting it soon.

[kenkamishiro]

zakki:re translations, Part 3, Vol. 6-9

In which Ishida passive-aggressively-albeit-jokingly rags on Goubaru-kun and reflects on his artistic choices.

The zakki:re and interview translations take a lot of time and effort, so if you enjoyed it please leave a like or reblog. Thank you!

If you would like to start from the beginning, please click here.

Associate Special Class. A protagonist whose hair changes colours a lot.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 4~5, Opening colour page

The cover of :re volume 6. Furuta and an apple. Regarding its contents, this volume was a turning point that slightly changed the course of the story up to volume 5 of :re. Shirazu died in the line of duty, and Haise was dyed in black… I drew the story about a staff member (Goubaru-kun), which was unusual content for a volume omake. During my serialization, I went from Fukuoka to Tokyo every year for the Shueisha New Year’s party. On the first day of the party I’d talk to the other authors, and on the second day it became a tradition to hang out with the staff members. I was looking forward to it as one of the biggest events of the year since I didn’t have much opportunity to play while writing my series, but because of Goubaru-kun...I mean, thanks to him, it ended up becoming a field trip to the hospital for half a day. So as revenge...I mean as gratitude, I drew about it in the manga in the form of an omake. My series has come to an end, but because Goubaru-kun was next to me...I mean, thanks to him, it also became an event where I got to witness my true character. It was his fault that I really learned a lot about myself. Thank you.

2016, Volume 6, Cover

[T/N: You can read said omake here.]

The cover of :re volume 7. Kaneki, to match with volume 7 of OG. The theme of this cover was, “Can I beat the strength of the OG volume 7’s art?” I drew this side-by-side with OG volume 7 Kaneki. When I look at it now, it’s lacking a certain kind of impact even though my drawing skills had improved a lot back then. At the time, I was heavily relying on the anatomy portion of my drawing skills, which was why I may have gone astray in various ways regarding the art’s intentions. In OG volume 7, I wasn’t led astray due to ignorance, but rather because I felt so energetic (and therefore also fragile). For :re volume 7, I get the impression that I was thinking about that in my head. It somehow gives off an air of trying to distract people with anatomy. Nevertheless, regarding the quality of the cover art I feel like I drew it to the best of my abilities in those days. I think it’d be interesting to look back at my other drawings and think about my mental state and the theme of the drawing for each one.

2016, Volume 7, Cover

Kaneki going for a walk #1 Named as “Kaneki going for a walk series” by Chika-neesan of L.S.D. who was asked to do the design for zakki:re. I’ll explain why in #2.

Movie adaptation - major decision It’d be better to call it a “major decision” rather than just a “decision”. The movie had all kinds of stuff too.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 30, Opening colour page

Uh, what was this for again? I know it was a cover for a YJ issue. Maybe I drew this illustration after I finished :re volume 7’s cover art? That one [volume 7 cover] took up too much of my strength, and this one [current illustration] makes me feel like I’m out of breath.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 30, Cover

[T/N: It was for the July 30, 2016 issue of Miracle Jump. Came with 4 other illustrations of Kaneki, including an alternate version of the illustration above, and the “Kaneki going for a walk #1″ illustration.]

The blurb sounds very cool. I also like the placement design.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 32, Centre colour illustration

[T/N: Blurb says, “I’ve only severed off one side of the scenery.]

I also like this design. Illustration-wise, this volume is of course, about Mucchan and Torso. I thought from the start that Torso would meet his end by becoming a torso (literally). I feel like my work doesn’t have many characters that smell of gender, but I can sense it from Mucchan, or rather I think it’s coiled around her. During my serialization, I always got the impression that she was very different from the other characters. I don’t really understand her well.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 42, Opening colour page

[T/N: Ishida refers to Mutsuki as 彼女 (kanojo = she/her) so I will refer to her as such unless he states otherwise.]

Volume 8 of :re. I like how this Arima looks. It feels like the art in this volume was also right at the height of my anatomy phase, and it feels like very crisp. But gradually you begin thinking about something different.  In the wrong direction.

2016, Volume 8, Cover

My thoughts about the colour spread I splashed on bold colours for the spread, I wonder if it was because I didn’t have time or something, I remember I was saved by L.S.D.’s design. I was bombarded by the obsessive idea of, “Do I always have to draw so much?” Because Jump authors’ colour spreads always have lots of characters on them, their colouring is meticulous, and they look splendid. In contrast to that, my spread gives off the feeling that I didn’t have time or any motivation. It’s not that I’m not motivated, it might just be that I’m not good at drawing a lot of characters at once. Sometimes I end up wondering if the concept of “One character only!” might be more powerful.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 50, Opening colour page

100 stickers The illustration of the stickers from the appendix of YJ magazine. There are a hundred of them. I wondered about how much the price of a sticker would cost, so I went to Incube (a general store) in Tenjin, Fukuoka, and bought a pack of clover stickers (30-40 pieces) and one gorilla sticker (why). Both cost around 300 yen, about the same price as Young Jump, so I thought, “Wouldn’t it be a good deal if reading a manga also came with stickers!?” Such a good deal. It was nice seeing readers use them to stick on top of a letter every once in a while.

Weekly Young Jump 2016, Issue no. 50, Special appendix

[T/N: Tenjin is the downtown area of Fukuoka. Also, these stickers were released with the YJ issue to celebrate the 100th chapter of :re. Ishida made comments about each one of the stickers in volume 9, if you want to read them go here and here.]

Cover of :re volume 9.

Transitioning from from full digital to half-digital From this point on, the idea of "How can I finish my manuscript quickly?" greatly occupied my mind. I think it was around this time that work for another series (the game) came in. If I remember correctly. I had been drawing fully digital this entire time, but for this volume I experimented by interweaving digital with analog. We live in an era crazy about speed. However, because I couldn't control the screen anymore, I had a rough time drawing this volume. I used a G pen to draw the characters. The line drawings were uploaded with the scanner, and I finished the final touches digitally. Since it doesn't take a lot of time to write the storyboard, during this period I could finish the manuscript in 2.5 days, and set aside 4 days for other work. Thinking about the manga now, it would've been better if I'd spent my extra time focusing on it, but back then I thought doing this would be the best. This volume is the only volume where the characters were entirely drawn in analog. Since then, it has changed to drawing in analog for quick things, and for things that need to be drawn with more skill, drawing it first in analog before going to digital.

2016, Volume 9, Cover

The Last Things There are a lot of arms entwined around Kaneki, such as Eto and Dragon Kaneki's arms.

2016, Volume 9, Cover sleeve

[T/N: The illustration above isn’t the full version, but the only one I could find. It was also used as the cover art for österreich’s song uploaded on SoundCloud, titled “Saigo no koto” or “The Last Things”.]

previous || next

[rashiira]

[Cut for Personal/Medical stuff.]

2019 has really been shit. There’s a lot I haven’t said here and still may not, but I’m going to at least cover a couple of bases of things that have had me in almost constant stress for awhile. First of all, in July, my mother was diagnosed with Colon cancer. It came completely out of nowhere. They found it during a colonoscopy, as apparently, Colon cancer doesn’t have symptoms. So it’s lucky that they found it. But it was a huge blow to my mother. It was hard to see her during that time, looking defeated when she’s usually one of the positive driving forces in this household. Several times, she wanted to just cancel any and all treatment, insisting she ‘felt’ fine, but eventually with a bit of pushing from my father and I and the doctors, she gave in and decided to get the large tumor removed through surgery. That took place two weeks ago. They were gone for about a week and a half and I spent most of that time by the phone waiting for news and information.  I’m ecstatic to say that it not only went well and my mother is on the mend, but they determined that her cancer is very likely gone. The operation removed an entire foot of her large intestine so they could collect all the polyps around it too, just to be sure, and her appendix went, as well. But they determined that her cancer, though it had pretty large growth, did not breach the walls of her intestine and therefore she did not need chemo or radiation treatment (which is good, because she flat-out refused to do it anyway). She’s in her 6-8 week recovery period now. Dad and I take care of her and make sure that she’s following her recovery steps. I know it’s frustrating for her, because she feels good and she wants to do all the things, but she’s taking things slowly and I’m proud of her. She’s been through a lot. She made it through. And it was a trying time for the family, but in the end, the results could not have been better. Things very well might have been catastrophic or too late if the cancer wasn’t discovered, but that wasn’t the case. She got treatment. She’s (hopefully) cured. Fast forward to yesterday. I'm back from out-patient surgery in the ER yesterday afternoon. What I thought was a sore throat and swelling (first started about 4 days ago) that I went to the local walk-in clinic to get checked out early yesterday morning turned out to be something called Acute Peritonsillar Abscess and it was taking over my throat/airway. They referred me to the ER about 30 mins away and I nearly had a break-down in their office, as it was not something I expected to hear when I went in. I had a CT scan for the first time in my life. An IV for the first time in my life. And then went through what was probably the singular most painful thing I've ever endured. When numbing solutions don't work because you have too many nerves in the back of your mouth and they try four times with different solutions to numb it without success? And they hold your head down when they come in with the needles? You're going to have a bad time. I was not at all prepared for what happened, but I'm thankful it was taken care of before the swelling got any bigger. I'm really grateful for the support I had from friends and the extra push not to let it go 'another day'. I will be recovering for a few days. Throat is still sore and doesn’t like solid foods. But I went to my follow-up today and the doctor said the swelling has gone down and she’s very pleased. She doesn’t think I’ll need to come back unless something worrisome happens and I just need to finish my 14-day antibiotic treatment. And on the bright side? They said that popsicles and ice cream are probably literally the best thing for me right now. So I get to enjoy some soft treats to numb the throat pain. Furthermore, as of this morning, I was approved for medical insurance. At last. I’ll be the owner of an official Medicaid card in 3 weeks and they will cover all of the surgery costs and even allow me to get reimbursement on my prescriptions. The lady who talked to me about it literally came to the operating room in the ER where I was and got my info and stuff right there. It was laughably easy compared to the hoops I was jumping through to get insurance up to this point. And then she called me back today, just a day after, saying I was approved and all set. I’m extremely happy for this. All in all, though 2019 really has been a kick in the face and elsewhere numerous times, there are some good things to come out of them, too, and I won’t forget that. I know most people are not here for personal stuff about me or my family, but I wanted to share this with those who do want to know what’s been happening and the friends I have here. I know I don’t share too much on tumblr (because I fled after the n s f w ban), but I’ve been in such a stressed state over it all this year that it was hard to get my feet on the ground and really share much until things were over and done with. Thanks for reading/listening! And I hope 2019 has been better to you folks. If it hasn’t, let’s all keep our heads up for and concentrate on the good stuff, if we can. It’s not easy. But we can try.

[hello-amine-benaissa]

Blog Post #17/18 (20 points) Due Tuesday at Midnight

The last two weeks of class are going to be intertwined. Next week we will watch a documentary on Bob Dylan. It was going to be Pete Seeger, but I only have that on DVD, so we’ve switched it!

The last week of class we will be surveying modern protest songs together during class time. Lots of fun! In preparation for that, please complete the two assignments below.

Download the article from Moodle about Socially Responsible Music Consumption.

1. Turn to the appendix and complete the interview questions for yourself and post them here. (Don’t forget the one on the next page.)

The main factors that influenced my purchase are the need for me to have it and how much of an essential item it is to me, alongside how much I like it. So basically the need and desire for this purchased item.

The last music related purchase was Eminem’s latest album “Music to be murdered by”.

I mainly bought this album because I am big fan of rap music and Eminem signature fast rapping style, alongside really enjoying the songs in the album.

My kind of music is very diverse since I enjoy any type of song as long as it has a melodic tune and great context. But the genres that I prefer are rap and classical music.

I mainly consume music through spotify and youtube.

The current music industry is not so appealing to me since it mostly leans on the same rebellious ideas and context of partying and breaking the rules.

My favorite musicians really know how to leave a positive emotional or nostalgic impact on me as a person.

I definitely continue to prefer buying albums of my favorite artists which limits my perspective on music.

I don’t consider any social responsibility when buying music as long as it’s from my favorite artists and knowing that I’ll enjoy it.

I honestly can’t think of ways musicians are engaging in socially responsible behavior except when it comes to the lyrical messages, that either have a positive or negative impact, they are sharing with the audience.

 No, I can’t think of any examples of socially responsible behavior within the music industry except for the mumble rap contributing to unacceptable sexual behaviors, drug or alcohol use, and violent illegal activities.

I have never attended live music events. But if I do, I would definitely  consider the general aspects of socially responsible behavior.

 I have never attended musical live events. But if I do, I would engage in socially responsible behavior.

A socially responsible musician is an artist who takes into consideration the lyrical messages and context of his music while studying the general impact it would have on the listener whether it’s positive or negative.

I definitely believe it is important for them to act in a socially responsible way in order to achieve the general benefit of the audience.

I would accept to buying an album or attending a concert of an artist that I perceive to be engaged in socially responsible behavior as long a I enjoy his music and art.

I have attended a live music event.

I would compare the role that social responsibility plays in everyday consumption decisions to music consumption decisions to our consumption of visual contents on the internet or television. The more beneficial and positive the impact of the music has on the listener, the more this music supports social responsibility.

Social responsibility is an ethical framework which suggests that an entity, be it an organization or individual, has an obligation to act for the benefit of society at large.

Read the article, focusing on the results section (skim the beginning).

1. Discuss how authenticity is important to an artist’s efficacy in promoting a social or political.

I believe it’s important for the artist to establish, at least minimal, authenticity not only because it would help his work to financially succeed and maintain the market value of the created art, but also enabling the listener to understand the practice and history of this art as an intelligible history of the expression of values, beliefs, and ideas, both for artists and their audiences. Furthermore, art influences society by changing opinions, instilling values and translating experiences across space and time. At the end, this shows how art authenticity promotes the social or political notion of responsibility affecting the fundamental sense of self and representing the repository of a society's collective memory.

2. Cite an example from the text.

As the article discussed the results of their experiment: “Musicians are also considered to be more authentic in their promotion of social causes where they are actively involved in these behaviors themselves. For example, although one of our participants here expresses frustration at one of his favorite bands for their seemingly repetitive promotion of homelessness and the implications therein, he recognizes that they have legitimacy to locally campaign for this particular social cause.” (T. Green, page 240)

3. Can you think of an example you have witnessed of either an artist promoting something that didn’t seem authentic and one promoting that did? Post a link or video if you can.

Whenever I imagine of artists promoting something that’s definitely not authentic, I think of all the useless mumble rap advertising sexual activities, drug use, and violence while pretending they are cool and modern unlike normal civilized people. Most of this music uses strong language and visuals in their music videos, hence, I don’t believe I can post an example of this unauthentic music on Tumblr. In contrast, unauthentic music doesn’t have to be useless with a bad impact. Therefore, I think a good song that promotes the same inauthentic idea of dancing and being happy, but still have a positive impact is Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky” ft. Pharrell Williams, Nile Rodgers.

Nevertheless, a good example of a song that promotes an authentic idea with a positive impact is the example of Bob Dylan’s song “Knockin' on Heaven's Door”.

Read this piece on what makes a good protest song, at least historically, and how that may be changing today.

1. Write a paragraph on what you think makes a good protest song. Reference the article and choose to agree or disagree with something they said.

The article states a solid argument that shows what makes a good protest song is its durability across our history and how its message is a response to multiple conflicts and debates. As the son of Minnesota’s Iron Range argued in the article about how Bob Dylan’s folk music is a good example of how much meaning and depth a song can have: ““Blowin’ in the Wind” endures, he said, because its message of being responsive to suffering can apply to so many episodes in history.” I totally agree with this idea since music reflects the culture and folklore of a society. This is seen in our national rhythm, compatriotic song, traditional songs, which emerge from classical literature, epics and heroic poems. Songs and music mirror history, values, norms and the mentality of a society.

2. Look up a favorite artist (keep going until you find something) and find some ways in which they are trying to make a positive impact. This can be either charities, benefit concerts, lyrical messages, etc. Share you findings.

I really enjoy John Denver’s music because it shares a strong message of belonging and nostalgia to your home country or setting where you grew up. For example, “Country Roads” is such a good song, not only it was sung well with great lyrics and context, but also in its transcendent ability to evoke feelings of home and belonging. Although I am not from West Virginia, listening to this song made me miss Morocco everytime thanks to its broad lyrical messages which supports the previous argument I agreed with. This song uses a relaxing beat with slow tempo allowing the listener to truly indulge and experience the song’s relatable ideas. In addition, I think the song is strong enough to evoke the listener’s feelings and memories thanks to the description of famous places in West Virginia which helps the listener to remember his home and the memories they spent in them. These findings show how music can relate to a person using meaningful lyrics alongside a good beat, much like “Country Roads” that uses the mentioned methods to stimulate the audience.

3. Discuss if you think they are effective, why or why not.

I certainly believe the methods “Country Roads” uses are very effective thanks to the relatable lyrical messages and emotional context it shares with the listeners. Furthermore, it shows what makes a good protest song displaying the beautiful and meaningful lyrics that appeal to a broad audience and emotionally influence the listeners. Hence, a good folk song bypasses the listener’s beliefs, ideologies, and nationality allowing the music to reach out and relate to them. At the end, the methods of creating nostalgic lyrics alongside a relaxing tune helps the song become even more effective and enjoyable.

[a-deadly-serenade]

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 4: Light After Dark [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724856?view_full_work=true

~ Click here for the masterlist.

tag list: @pastelteabubbles, @heartwards, @2-many-fandoms-2-count, @top-notch-shitposting, @theotakufairy, @illiniana

if you want to be added to the tag list, please send me a message and i will tag you in every update!

True to her word, as soon as things were cleaned up in the kitchen, Lisa was leading you up to the library that had all of the medical textbooks. You went up several winding staircases and through at least a dozen hallways, and you realized, to your dismay, that you were going to have to have Lisa lead you here for quite awhile before you felt brave enough to walk here on your own.

When the both of you finally made it to an arched doorway, she pushed it open and all of the candles simultaneously came alight.

You noticed that this library was a lot smaller than the one you had been in last night, but that did not mean it was any less magnificent. The ceiling was a large glass dome that stretched up high above your heads. Small circular windows lined the north and south panes, each filled with beautiful, intricate, stained glass designs of stars and planets.

Twisted shelves covered every flat surface, filled and piled high with thick books, ancient books, books whose titles even you could not decipher. There were multiple desks that stood in front of the massive towers of books, made of rich, dark oak that shimmered almost black in the sunlight.

Parchments had been slapped on any free surface, all of them filled from top to bottom with diagrams of the human body, certain organs, or even classifications of plants and minerals. One of the most cluttered desks had piles upon piles of parchment, all of them scribbled with extensive notes. There was a large stack of quills, coated in ink, some of them looking as though the top half had snapped off. Beakers lined one corner, obviously having been scrubbed clean, as the water droplets that clung to the glass glistened like morning dew.

“I see that you’ve found my work station,” Lisa admits sheepishly. “It’s not the most organized, but its my space and where I have found to be the most productive for me.

“I was not judging you, Lisa,” you teased. “My mother certainly did not get her tidiness from my grandmother, let me tell you.”

Lisa chuckled, and walked you over to a nearby desk that had been placed nearly adjacent to hers. “This is where you will be seated whenever you need to come here and do some independent study, but when you must sit next to me, there will be a chair but beside my desk. You can also use that if you ever had any questions!”

You gave an elated smile, and ran your fingers across the smooth surface. “So,” you said. “What is the first lesson on the agenda?”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning, as well as most of the afternoon, in the library. Lisa had took the time to go over the very basics of human anatomy as a refresher, as you only had a very vague concept of the body. She wanted you to familiarize yourself with each part, and she made it much easier to remember by breaking up the body into what she called, “systems”.

There were 12 of these systems that ran throughout the human body. There was one to help you breathe, (respiratory!) one that dealt with your nerves (nervous!), and even one that contained solely your blood vessels (circulatory!). It was quite extraordinary.

She stressed that it was important for you to know all of this so that you could adequately pinpoint where the problem was and then be able to do the necessary tests to make a diagnosis.

Even when you countered that you could easily heal simple coughs or fevers with your magic, she wanted you to understand where they came from, and not just rely on your skills to be a good physician.

Luckily, when she started to touch on the treatment options available, you were much more familiar with these terms, as they were all plants! If there was one thing you knew you were capable of, it was making a good potion or tonic.

Even Lisa was impressed by your mastery of herbology, and you went so far as to offer her some tips after she gave you several samples of a brew she had been in the process of perfecting. It had been for the treatment of a respiratory infection, and after seeing the astonishing amount of ingredients Lisa had at her disposal, you offered that she add more starburrs and aloe, picking up that her potion lacked the clearing effects of getting rid of mucus, and the soothing effect patients needed for their chest tightness.

You believed that it had been an incredibly eventful day, your arms filled with an array of books and several rolls of parchment as you sat back down in front of your desk. You had chosen texts that were all about liver, not really knowing all that much about it, except, like your grandmother had stressed so many times, it takes care of all the alcohol.

Not like you had ever been too big of a fan of drinking to begin with.

You dipped your quill into some ink, and started to take some notes, your eyes widening when you read that it was capable of regenerating itself.

You had no idea how long you spent in the library, your yellow sleeves getting dotted with stray ink, with some ending up on your nose after pushing your hair out of your eyes. You had moved on from the liver, having conquered other important organs such as the big and small intestine, the appendix, and the kidneys.

Your intense focus was suddenly broken by a tapping on your shoulder, which caused you to nearly leap out of your skin.

“Whoa!” Lisa exclaimed, her hands up in surrender. “It’s only me!”

You froze, pink dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” you blurted out. “I just… get really caught up in my work…” She gave you a pat on the shoulder. “It’s alright, I know what that’s like. I just wanted to see if you would like to join us for dinner?”

At the mention of food, your stomach let out a loud growl that caused you to flush while Lisa laughed.

“I guess that answers that,” she said, and while you thought you were heading to the kitchen, she instead lead you to an amazing dining hall.

A beautiful, long table was the main center of attention, its legs being dark claws that clung greedily to the plush red carpet underneath. The top was a glistening marble that glowed under the candles that hung above in an extravagant chandelier, topped by a soft red runner. Silver candelabras hung from the walls, large Renaissance paintings of food, feasts, and parties adding just the right amount of color and pop to the black and gold wallpaper.

Once again, a decadent feast adorned the tabletop and your mouth watered at the sight. There was a large rotisserie chicken topped with an array of herbs and surrounded by vegetables like potato, zucchini, onion, carrot, and squash. There were fancy cheeses, golden loaves of bread, expensive wine, and a pot of steaming homemade soup.

Lisa had made herself comfortable beside Vlad, who was sitting across his son.

Adrian already had his plate filled with his pickings, and he gave you a smile from across the room as he took a sip from his goblet, presumably of some of the red wine.

“So, Hippocrates decides to join us.” Vlad teased, biting down on the piece of chicken at the end of his fork.

Adrian burst out laughing, having to grab his napkin to cover his mouth as he entered a coughing fit.

You huffed, annoyed that Adrian found this so funny, arms folded across your chest as you sat down beside him. “I don’t see what’s so amusing,” you repeated, “He just compared me to the father of medicine. I would say that’s quite the compliment.” you stated matter-of-factly, cutting yourself a piece of chicken and pouring yourself some soup.

“She’s well-versed in the history as well,” Vlad said, a smile on his face. “Impressive.”

You grinned, shooting Adrian another glare as he continued to chuckle. The dinner was delicious, and it surprised you how quickly you had grown comfortable around Lisa’s family. It had only been a day, but you could not have felt more at home.

As you helped Adrian collect the dirty dishes, Lisa poured a coffee for herself and her husband, who gave her a kiss on the cheek as she leaned down to fill his cup.

Your eyes glazed over in happiness, filled with a small bundle of peace after witnessing such pure affection. As you turned on your heel to head in the direction of the kitchen, Vlad calling out for you stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, little one, I almost forgot: meet me in my study before you head back to the library. There is something that I would like to discuss.”

Your voice trembled slightly as you replied, “O...oh, alright.” your arms shaking a bit as dread starting to poison that previous sensation of contentment.  You snuck a glance at Lisa before you exited the room, and although you felt some relief for how calm and normal she looked, the thought of being alone in a small room with one of the most powerful vampires still made you incredibly nervous.

Even though the dishes were being taken care of in an efficient manner, you almost wished that it had taken longer so that you could stall this conversation. You tried to assure yourself that it was not over anything bad, you knew that Lisa would never willingly let you be placed in a dangerous situation. Perhaps… perhaps he just wanted to discuss something?

You nibbled on your thumbnail as you followed after Lisa, who had come over to fetch you and direct you to Vlad’s study.

It’s fine… you think to yourself. You just need to relax. I’m sure it’s nothing.

Lisa stopped in front of a doorway, and you could hear the distinct sound of a fire cracking. She gave you the indication to step inside and you took head of her invitation.

The room was smaller than others you had been in, with a large pointed chair in the middle of an ornate red carpet with intricate golden details. A portrait of Lisa holding a bouquet of white lilies hung on the wall in a beautiful frame, a large bookshelf sitting beside it, neatly filled with hundreds of books. A marble fireplace held the fire that occasionally popped and hissed as embers danced along the iron gate blocking them from singeing the rug.

Above the fireplace was another portrait, this one hung in a more oval frame, and you realized it was of Lisa, Vlad, and Adrian when he was only a baby. Your lips curled into a smile at seeing Adrian, so small and adorable, with tuffs of golden hair on his round head, held in the arms of a beaming Lisa. Vlad looked rather dashing in his suit, and he glowed with a sense of pride, one of his hands resting gently upon his son’s small shoulders.

“I’m glad that you could join me,” Vlad’s voice suddenly called out to you.

You jumped from surprise and whirled around to find him standing beside a tall mirror. You could have sworn that he had not been here a moment earlier…

He unclasped his cloak from around his neck and draped it across the top of the chair before you. His boots tapped softly against the rug, the tall vampire pouring himself a cup of tea once he situated himself.

He took a sip, a content sigh falling from his lips. “Sit,” he stated, and gestured to the small chair in front of him, a small table standing in between the both of you with an additional tea cup and a large tea kettle.

You nervously took your seat, and you fidgeted a bit, fingers twirling around a stray thread from your shirt.

Vlad poured you some tea as well, and you accepted the drink with a quiet thank you.

After several moments of silence of the both of you sipping your tea, the fire crackling behind you, he finally made to speak.

“I wanted to preface this by saying that I am in no way upset with you, if you were worried about that.”

You let out a breath you did not know you had been holding, tension releasing itself from your shoulders as he said this. “Was it that obvious?” you laughed, and he gave you a smile.

“The fact that you even came to join me let’s me know that you trust not only me, but my wife as well. I know how… well, scary, I can seem,” he chuckled. “Even if you are a witch, you are not a fool.”

You gave a sigh of relief, before you let out a quiet laugh at his statement. “I appreciate it.”

Vlad’s smile broke a little, and you saw his eyes cloud over a bit, from what, you could not tell. “You won’t appreciate what I am about to ask you. I ask you to forgive me but…” he was silent, before he leaned forward. “I need you to tell me what happened to your coven.”

Had you not been so comfortably seated in your chair, you might have just collapsed at what Vlad just asked you to do. The world seemed to crumble around you, lip trembling as you swallowed back tears. Instinctively, you shoved your hands into your pockets and pulled out a charm bag, dumping out its contents to grab a necklace that had been created around a piece of amber infused with black obsidian and flecks of rose quartz.

It had been the last birthday gift that you received from your mother, a powerful amulet of protection. You carefully put it around your neck, and allowed the stone to rest near the dip between your breasts, pressing it against your hammering heart.

You were grateful that Vlad had remained quiet during all of this, worried that you would not have been able to handle someone immediately berating you with questions.

“Take your time,” he said softly.

You gave him a nod, and after a couple deep breaths, you opened your eyes. “Thank you… for letting me collect myself. I… needed a minute…” you whispered, voice a little hoarse.

“Not at all,” his tone was calm, soothing. “If ever you need to stop, let me know. I want you to take as long as needed, you’re in no rush.”

“Thank you…” after taking one last calming breath, you started to retell your story, the story of how you lost your entire family.

“It had been at night,” you recall. “My grandmother had mumbled something about a bad feeling, as though she could sense the anger in the atmosphere. It was a dark night… pitch black, and the ocean….she churned, she was so… so violent. I had never seen the ocean look like that before. My mother simply said that a storm was coming, it was nothing more. But, I believed my grandmother.”

You took a sip of tea, lips pursed, before you continued. “She and a couple other witches, older wise women that had been in my grandmother’s original coven, were all saying the same thing, that there was an omen on the horizon, and although quite a few other witches were keen to believe them, we just thought they were saying all this because the ocean was in a fit and we could not feel the moon’s presence on us. If only… if only we had listened.

I had been asleep, before being woken up by screams… so many screams. My mother was frantically running around, I could hear her. She was yelling something at my grandmother, and then she was in my room, pulling me up and ushering me out the front door. I was so confused… I had no idea what was going on. Outside was pure chaos. There were fires as far as my eye could see, the flames licking at my face and the trees in the nearby forest. I could pick up on witches crying out spells, and we’d occasionally see the glow of protective runes being activated.

My mother had her wand in her hand… an ancient thing, made of elm… her hand was clasped tightly around mine, and as we ran, we found other families that had been calling out for any familiar faces. We eventually ended up as a group of maybe six or seven children, and five adult witches. We were nearly at the edge of the forest, where we could hide and be protected, before… before we ran into them…”

You stomach churned with disgust and your eyes welled up with tears as your pictured the men that had blocked your path to freedom. “It was a group of priests in red robes… they had these smiles on their faces…the cruelest expression that you could possibly imagine, as though they were starving cats that had happened upon a pack of terrified rats.

We tried to fight them off, but they were just too many of them… it’s as if they were hydras. Absolute beasts... and I remember…. I remember the things they did to my sisters… the horrible, filthy things they did… the tools that they had…”

Your whole body was trembling with rage, angry tears trailing down your cheeks as your gripped the edge of your seat for dear life. “My mother….” your voice faltered. “My mother…! She… she sacrificed herself! To save me!” you exclaimed, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“She and I had been one of the few who had not been captured, and… and she told me to run, to find the secret paths of the forest nymphs. We had been in good standing with them for centuries, as my coven protected both the sea and the woods that bordered our small community. So… I… I ran, I ran into those woods like she said, but…”

You gritted your teeth, voice coming out in a sob. “She didn’t follow me… a barrier materialized right before my eyes, shimmering like gold. It had been a barrier of protection… the last act of selflessness that my mother performed before being captured. I… I wanted to go back, to try and save her, but…. I ran. I ran… and ran until I could not breathe and collapsed under a tree… dirty, tired, and… so…. helplessly... alone.”

Your vision blurred as tears cascaded down your face, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as your began to cry. “They took everything from me…everything.” you heaved, a disdainful look in your eyes as you sat back in your chair. “Pray tell, what kind of God would let his servants kill innocent women and children?”

Vlad’s dark red eyes shone dangerously in the firelight, hands clasped together as he formed a steeple with his fingers. “I have discovered throughout my hundreds of years on this planet, that mankind is nothing more than a miserable little pile of secrets. Scared little things that would rather destroy and chalk up phenomena they do not understand to the metaphysical.”

He leaned forward and placed a strong grip on your shoulder. “I am terribly sorry for all of the loss that you have suffered at the hands of ignorant, scared little men. Your mother was a brave woman, a strong woman. I’m sure you are very proud of her and the rest of your coven.”

You nodded your head. “Yes… I often find myself filled with such rage that I can barely think… but I lived with the nymphs for some time, and they helped me channel these feelings of resentment into something constructive. It was through their teachings that I became so well-versed in the knowledge of herbology.”

“You are very wise not letting this hate consume you. Too many times have I seen good, honorable men fall under the spell of this deadly obsession,” Vlad said, as he released your shoulder and poured more tea into your cup.

Thanking him, you take a large gulp, only now just realizing how dry your throat had become. “If it would not be too presumptuous of me to ask,” you began. “Do… would it be alright if I headed to the library? I need to clear my head.” you confessed, a strained smile on your visage.

Vlad nodded, his large hand going to ruffle the hair on the top of your head. “You did very well, little one. My only wish is that you do not stay up all night working, for I know how easy it is to lose track of time when immersed in your studies.”

“I will make sure to head to bed at a… reasonable hour,” you said, thanking Vlad for his kindness once more, before you headed back to the library.

Your mind was so abuzz with thought that it was difficult for you to concentrate. It was almost as if you were in a thick fog, uncertain of where to go. As you sat down in front of your desk, you were thankful that Lisa kept a stash of scented candles around to dull the smell of stale old books.

With the flick of your finger you had lit the wick of a candle that had reminded you of fresh rain, pulling out books on the brain and known diseases, topics you knew would be complicated enough to keep you stimulated and wash away the unwanted memories.

The moon hung high in the sky, her bright white rays resting upon your shoulders as you scribbled down notes on a spare bit of parchment. You could sense her as she moved across the sky, an obvious indication of how long you had already been at work.

As she continued her slow trek across the night, you could feel your eyelids grow heavy, but you tried pushing through the exhaustion.

Just let me finish this last sentence…!

Your body won over this battle against your brain, your eyes slipping shut and head resting against your arms as sleep fell upon you.

Something… something was tugging on your hair.

Was it morning already? Had you really slept the entire night at your desk? Well, that’s embarrassing--

“Excuse me?”

That didn’t sound like Lisa.

You groaned, body cracking and muscles aching as you rose from your sleeping position. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, before you went to massage your sore neck. To your surprise, there was no one around you. So, who had said that--?

“Excuse me!”

You felt another tug, and you whirled around to find… a fairy.

“A fairy?” you exclaimed.

“How rude!” she snapped, hands on her hips. “The name is Aria, thank you very much!”

She could not have been any bigger than a children’s doll, and one could have almost mistaken her for one, with her porcelain white skin and big blue eyes. She had long blond hair that shone like strands of gold in the low candlelight, and she sported a blue dress with a slit down the middle fluttered that around her legs, which were covered by tiny white boots. Sprinkles of fairy dust trailed from out of her wings, beautiful little things that looked almost like a dragonflies.

“Aria, huh?” you said. “What brings you here? I would think that someone such as yourself would rather be outside in the woods than in some dark castle?”

“I live here!” she shouted.

“Really?” you drawled, surprised at her answer.

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child, witch.” she hissed. “My master wanted to come in here to study, and what do I find? You, asleep at a desk!”

“Master?” you repeated.

“She means me.”

Adrian makes himself known from a nearby corner in the room, lounging lazily against an empty desk.

Aria flew over to where he stood, and then pointed at you. “I was making sure that you would have a nice, quiet place to practice, and I find her in here!” she shouted.

“Guess I can venture a guess and say that she’s not a fan of me?” you ask, getting up out of your seat and stretching out your sore muscles.

“She means well,” Adrian said, and walked over to join you where you stood, a tome tucked under his right arm.

Aria plopped herself onto his shoulder, her tiny hands grasping at his long locks of hair, humming quietly as she busied herself by braiding several strands.

“She certainly has an attitude,” you snap, and give her a smirk as she sticks her tongue out at you. “What’s this I hear about you coming in here to “practice”? You do know that this is the library dedicated to medical science?”

“Of course. I came up here to practice my healing magic.” Adrian responded, and opened the book he had with him. It was a magical tome, one that was written specifically about healing spells.

Your eyes widened at the sight and you made to grab it to look through it yourself, but Adrian quickly snatched it away before you could do so.

“Don’t be childish,” you grumbled. “I just want to flip through it. I will give it right back. If anyone knows a thing about healing spells, it’s me.”

“You’re not the only one who knows magic in this castle.” he challenged.

“Oh really?” you snapped back. “Well, if you’re so confident, why don’t you show me some of this magic?”

You noticed that his eyes widened slightly at the test, but he gave you a confident stare as he put down his book and ordered Aria to take a seat on your shoulder-- much to her dismay.

“So, what have you got for us?” you questioned.

“I’ve recently mastered the skill of transmutation.”

A whistle rang out from your lips. “Now that is some impressive magic. Only witches vying for the title of supreme have been able to pull that off.”

Adrian smirked. “Well then, all the more impressive that I can do this.” he said, and closed his eyes.

For a moment, he stood there, completely still, before he flitted out of view, as though you were trying to focus your vision. In a second, he reappeared on the opposite side of the room, a triumphant grin on his face as Aria started cheering and doing loops in the air.

“See?” he cried, clearly proud of himself. “What did I tell you?”

He disappeared again, only to reappear in front of you. “Seems as though I am magically gifted as well.” He vanished before you could say anything, but you knew that this cockiness would do nothing but bite him in the ass.

Karma came much quicker than you expected, for the third time he tried to transmutate, he ran straight into one of the bookshelves, causing a pile to tumble on top of him as he collapsed onto the ground.

Try as hard as you might, but you could not suppress the laughter that bounded out of you after seeing this. Your voice rang throughout the library, arms clutching at your sides as you absolutely lost it.

You could hear Aria yelling how rude you were before she raced off to try and help Adrian, but you couldn’t care less. A tear managed to slide down your cheek, and you wiped it off, finding it ironic that you were crying out of happiness, when a mere few hours ago, it had been tears of utter sadness.

Aria was trying her best to get the books off of him, but they were much too heavy for her. She nearly dropped one onto his foot, before you caught it within your grasp.

“Let me help you with that,” you said, offering Adrian your hand.

He looked up at you and accepted your assistance, his chilled skin causing goosebumps to run across your arm.

You hoisted him back up on his feet, a slight flush on your cheeks when you realized how close the both of you were. You immediately relinquished your grip and took several steps back, laughing nervously.

“Transmutation, huh? I mean, even I can’t do that! So, that was pretty impressive! Well, before… you know…” you trailed off awkwardly, shying under his intense gaze.

He suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, the sound causing your heart to skip a beat and butterflies to flutter in your stomach. It was strange, seeing this stoic, composed man act so… so human.

“I’m glad that you appreciated the show,” he said, running his fingers through his hair to settle himself down. “Even if it ended in utter disaster.”

“That’s alright,” you replied. “It took me quite a while to master my pyrokinesis. Whenever I would practice, I usually ended up setting something on fire. Oh, there was this one time, I accidentally lit my mother’s ceremonial robes on fire,” you cringed at the memory, but gave a smile small as Adrian laughed. “It just takes practice.”

“Practice…” he hummed. “As much as Aria can try and argue against this, my original intentions for coming up here were to ask if you could help me in the practice of magic.”

“What?!” Aria shrieked. “Master Alucard, surely there is no need for you to--” she was silenced by Adrian putting a finger against her mouth, the fairy glaring at him before she stomped her foot and landed on his head in a huff.

“Surely you must have gotten some practice at your mother’s clinic,” you said, as you recalled Vlad and Lisa’s conversation on Adrian once working there.

He grimaced at the mention. “Yes… well, I did want to earn some experience helping her there, but after a particularly nasty incident, mother thought it best if I remain at home in pursuit of my studies.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“It’s not an embarrassing memory,” he said. “It’s merely that… well, I had been helping mother for two weeks or so, and things had been going fine. It was not until this woman walked in, that things started to take a sour turn.”

Your eyebrows raise in piqued interest. “Woman?”

“She came in with an infected leg, a nasty thing, one look at it would tell you as much. I asked her what had happened, and she told me that she had received a cut while working one day, and instead of cleaning and wrapping the wound… she had tried cutting out the small infected tissue, which of course, only made it worse.”

“What?” you gasp, completely boggled.

“Exactly!” Adrian exclaimed. “I was completely dumbfounded after she told me this, and I asked her why she would do such a thing. She said that’s what her neighbors had told her to do, and that she had merely come to me for some sort of tonic to dull the pain until it healed.”

“At that point, it would have made the most sense to cut it off.” you commented.

“I was thinking the same thing, but she just kept insisting that it was not serious and it was going to go away on its own--!” he let out a frustrated growl as he told the story. “One thing led to another and, well, we got into a rather heated argument. I was this close to losing it before mother stepped in and took care of the situation.”

You looked up at Adrian, a small smirk on your face. “When you say “heated argument”, does that mean you said something to her? I don’t think Lisa would essentially kick you out for debating with a belligerent patient.”

Adrian went quiet, his gaze darting away from you as he cheeks flushed a very faint pink. “I… may or may not have called her an “insolent fool”, one who’s lucky she’s alive believing that kind of codswallop.”

You nodded, as giggles threatened to erupt from your mouth. “That’ll do it.”

Adrian looked back down at you, and that was game over, the two of you bursting into a fit of raucous laughter.

“Oh, please don’t tell me that those are the kinds of people I’ll be dealing with,” you said, as the both of you began the walk to your bedrooms.

“Thankfully those are the outliers. Most of the villagers that come in are very nice,” he said. “They were very grateful that my mother was there, for every other person they had come across claiming to be a physician was nothing more than a crazy old woman who promised that drinking a brew of leaves and acorns would cure their rhumatismes.”

“Lisa is such a wonderful and smart woman… I’m so grateful that she’s accepted me into your home.” you said, and gave him a bright smile. “I’ve only been here a day, but I feel so at home here… as though I’ve finally found my place.”

He returned your smile, and stopped as you find yourselves in front of your bedroom door. “You never answered my question.”

Your eyes flitted up to look at him, and they twinkled with mischief as you rocked back and forth on the soles of your feet. “You really want to learn more about magic?”

He nodded. “My father is a powerful sorcerer, and I think your teaching, combined with his advice, will be able to help me perform at my full potential.”

“Alright,” you replied, without missing a beat. “I will help you, but! You better make sure to dial that arrogance down a couple levels when we’re together. If you’re not willing to listen, you will learn nothing.”

“Understood,” he said and took a hold of your hand, lifting it to his lips so he could place a kiss along your knuckles. “Rest well, then. I will see you in the morning.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hand hanging limply at your side as he disappeared down the dark hallway with Aria trailing silently behind him. You felt light on your feet as you danced over to your bed, feeling excited at the prospect of teaching the son of darkness all of your magical secrets.

Yeah, you thought. I’m definitely home.

author’s note: hehehehe SURPRISE!!! >:3 i got TWO chapters written today!! i hit such a good stride, that i thought: why not write two chapters? so that's what i did!! you get some more backstory in this one, and some cute moments with adrian. afterall, this IS an adrian/reader fic. oh! and shoutout to my friend morgan!! she's the one who came up with aria's name, who's based off of the fairy familiar in symphony of the night!! give her a follow @princessmorgan. she's super talented!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter lovelies!! i promise the next update won't come in 4 months ;w;

see you later!!

[iamnotbrianmay]

hello! i love your writing! how about the "hey there- you gave me quite a scare" thing from the hospital prompts?! with maylor!

(Can I do fem!Roger? I’m going to do fem!Roger) 

Brian had always been one to say that women were stronger than men. He could see that in his mother, in his aunts, in his grandmother, in every single woman he had ever met. Liz had been no exception. If anything his blonde bandmate was the epitome of strength. 

Which had been one of the main reasons that he had fallen in love with her. 

But being strong could also backfire sometimes. And it did on the day of their fifth concert int he United States. 

She had been playing as she always did, a smile on her face and sweat lining her brow. But when she came off stage, she nearly fainted into Brian’s arms, “I think something is wrong with me.” 

She had tried to explain to Brian that she had never had had period cramps this strong, but had fainted halfway through and that’s when Brian really freaked out. They made it to the hospital in record time, and Brian did everything in his power so that his girlfriend was looked at as soon as possible. 

It turned out that the cramps Liz had been having weren’t actually cramps but rather a burst appendix, and the sepsis that follows that. 

They spent five days in the hospital with a barely responsive Elizabeth Taylor, praying that she wouldn’t be one of the people who died because of something as common as a burst appendix. 

It was only after day six that she finally broke he delirious fever. She blinked open her baby blue eyes and stared at her boyfriend for a few minutes before croaking out a soft, “Hi.” 

Brian instantly closed the book he had been reading and leaned over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Hey there- you gave me quite the scare.” 

She hummed non-committedly, “It takes a lot more to kill me.” 

Brian pressed a soft kiss to her hair, “Please don’t ever do that again.” 

[mikumanogi-blog]

2021-09-09 “Love is” Hayakawa Seira blog [ENG]

Everyone, good evening!

I’m 21-year-old Hayakawa Seira from Osaka. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Are you feeling well everyone?

 Since becoming September Tokyo has suddenly become cold.

Is it wearing long sleeves at night cold?

I’m not even wearing short sleeved pajamas I’m wearing long pants. The clothes I bought in the spring have become a little bit short and so I kind of want something that fits me nicely.

Recently I’ve been thinking that I’ve become a little bit more mature, and I’ve started to like fall.

I used to really dislike the autumn chill which felt like the end of summer but recently the reason for me to like autumn have increased because of things like ‘I want to eat pacific saury’ and ‘It’s not hot’ and ‘sweet potatoes’.

I want to eat pacific saury with sudachi and grated daikon! I also want to stuff my face with delicious white rice!

On top of that I want to dig for sweet potatoes! Mushrooms are also delicious, it’s definitely the season of good appetite ^ ^

 Ah!

By the way, I went to the art museum. It’s also the best season for enjoying art.

When I was in high school, I frequently went to the art museum by myself, but I haven’t been able to go much recently. When I went for the first time in a long time it was so much fun, it makes me want to go again. I like those moments when you lose all track of time while staring at a painting. Recently I’ve also been using the audio guides and it makes it even more interesting.

I promise you that I bought postcards that I didn’t intend to buy or use.

Right now, at the Tokyo National Museum in the Hyokeikan the ‘four seasons of Nogizaka46’ is open. If you’d like, please come and feel the autumn of art with Nogizaka46.

Which means, Tada!!

My birthday shirt. My work of art?

It’s cute isn’t it〜

This year I made it a simple “t-shirt showing not enough love’

It didn’t make it in time for the previous individual online meet and greet so if you like you can wear it to the next meet and greet with me!

 The last online meet and greet was the last one for the 27th single. During this single as well I received many words of thanks from everybody. I was very glad, thank you very much.

Even though it’s just a little thing, there were many people that made me feel happy, many people that congratulated me, kindly asked if I was ‘okay’, they showed off Mother Nature for me, they showed or performed something to me, I can’t write about it all but the time that we spent together really cheered me up.

The first time we did the online meet and greet it was overwhelming and there were many things I couldn’t get accustomed to, but I was able to get through all of those things thanks to all of my fans ^ ^

I’m looking forward to having fun with everyone during the 28th single! Please continue to look after me〜

 The last online meet and greet I was a,

1st time slot: Aichi Tour t-shirt wearing big sister

2nd time slot: Fukuoka Tour t-shirt wearing big sister

3rd time slot: polka dot blouse wearing big sister

4th time slot: yellow blouse wearing big sister

5th time slot: purple dress wearing big sister

^ ^

If you have a hair or clothing request, please let me know in the comments.

As always, thank you very much ☺︎

 ☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎announcements☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

☀︎Nogizaka46’s 28th single ‘Kimi ni Shikarareta’ will go on sale Wednesday September 22nd.

The 28th single ‘Kimi ni Shikarareta’ will go on sale this month.

https://youtu.be/1_oWkusqP4Q

↑Please make sure to check out the MV

I’d be happy if you were to listen to the unit song I’ll be participating in ‘Moshimo Kokoro ga Toumei nara’. I’m pleased to announce that the ballots for the online meet and greet have concluded. I received a lot of applications, thank you very much! I’m very happy! I’m looking forward to talking with everyone ^ ^ You can check the details of the national event information among other information whenever online. Thank you very much.

-TV-

☀︎ Nogizaka Star Tanjo! Nippon TV every week on Mondays at 25:29.

It’s a tv show where the 4th generations are challenged to sing hit songs from the Showa and Heisei era. Last week I sang Toshinobu Kubota.  ‘LA・LA・LA LOVE SONG’ with Rei-chan and Yuna. I really like this song and I’m glad I was able to sing it.

This week, I’ll be performing Ushirogami Hikaretai-san’s “Toki no Kawa o Koete’. To tell you the truth ‘setsuna shojo’ song ‘Anata o Suki na Kimochi ha Dare ni mo Tsutaezu Hakaba made Motteiku’ from Nogizaka skits is made using the motif from ‘Toki no Kawa o Koete’. I’m glad that even though it’s on a different show I can perform again as a member of ‘Setsuna Shojo’ ^ ^

To those that missed the last episode please check it out on Hulu!

https://www.ntv.co.jp/nogistar/

↑details can be found here!

-Radio-

☀︎INNOVATION WORLD (KYOCERA TECHNOLOGY COLLEGE) J-Wave, Every week on Fridays around 21:40.

In September the creative director, editor, Hakuhodo’s company executive, and Hakuhodo Kettle’s executive creative director Koichiro Shima held an online futuristic lecture!

http://radiko.jp/share/?t=20210903200000&sid=FMJ

↑If you like you can listen to last week’s lecture

☀︎Radirer! Sunday NHK Radio 1, Sunday September 12th between 20:05-22:55

During the Paralympics, Next Radirer! Sunday both Tamura Mayu-chan and me will be appearing. Everyone, let’s have a fun time ^ ^ There will be a lot of topics from the mail that we receive and so I’m really looking forward to it.

https://www.nhk.or.jp/radirer/

I’ll be waiting for a lot of mail

☀︎The Hit Studio Every Wednesday at 24:00 on MBS Radio.

Next week, Takada Shu-san, Hasamatsu Ikumi-san and me will having a fun conversation together! Recently our theme has been trending topics! Of course, the people in Kansai and in other regions can listen to it on ‘radiko’.

I’ll be waiting for your mail, messages and opinions!

https://cgi.mbs.jp/cgi-bin/form/mail/hitsui.cgi

↑you can send them here!

http://radiko.jp/share/?t=20210909000000&sid=MBS

↑I’ll be taking a break this week but if you want to hear enjoyable conversations make sure to listen ^ ^

 ☀︎Enecle presents everyday Zakiyama Special on FM Nack5 on Saturday September 18th from 12:55-14:55

I visited the untouchable Yamazaki-san’s program with Kaki! It was very fun, and we talked about a lot, I’d be glad if you were to listen to it. The topic on Kaki and Zakiyama-san’s common features, I personally feel, hit the mark ^ ^ Please look forward to it

-Magazine-

☀︎Platinum FLASH, currently on sale.

This is the first time since becoming 16 members that we’ve got a picture together on the front cover! I’m very grateful. Unexpectedly, it’s a special feature that extends 100 pages. I’d be happy if you were to check it out. There is a special appendix with a 4th generation member clear file attached! Please check it out.

☀︎Young Gangan, currently on sale

This year I was once again able to have a gravure published in Young Gangan! Tsutsui Ayame-chan is on the front cover ^ ^

Please check it out!

☀︎blt graph. On sale Friday September 17th.

I was able to publish a solo gravure! Iwamoto Renka-san is on the cover. If you’d like please check it out ^ ^ I’ll post a behind the scenes picture soon!

 !!! The unreliable Q&A!!!

·         Seira-chan do you want to go to Russia?

→As I’ve said before, watching ballet at the Bolshoi Theatre is one of my small dreams!

Unreliable

·         Once Basirou is grown up what food will you make with it?

→I want to make a pizza! Once Basirou is grown I’m going to my best to knead the pizza dough.

Unreliable

·         Is there anything in Tokyo that you feel has infected you since moving there?

→I’m no longer impressed but people stopping taxies in the middle of the road.

Unreliable

·         Are there any songs that you listen to on the veranda at night that make you feel melancholic?

→I’ve recently been addicted to the song called ‘day and night’

·         What anime comes to mind when people say, ‘old nostalgic anime’?

→Ashita no Nadja, nostalgic isn’t it ^ ^ I loved it 〜

Unreliable

 As always, thank you for all the comments! I always enjoy reading them. Thank you for cheering me up ☺︎

Please have a wonderful autumn evening.

Thank you for reading until the very end.

 See you soon! !

2021.9.9 Serra

https://blog.nogizaka46.com/seira.hayakawa/2021/09/063070.php