#they may have moved you but you will always be at hains point in my heart

[ladyinbooks]

hi! i’ve been a lurker for a while ever since I binged IB this summer and I am?? still not over them??? like not even CLOSE

I’ve had the tab open ever since and I’ve been rereading my favorite parts obsessively for months now (I’ve been feeling pretty shy about commenting lately, im sorry ^-^;; but please know that I really love everything!) and i can’t help myself from returning to the parts featuring Mas-Hain and the boys before Shit Hit the Fan. 🥺

I’m really curious about the dynamic between the two delegations, especially if anyone other than Jay and Samuel started becoming friends during those 5 months. Who were the other humans and lenians? How did the human delegation interact with each other? What did the human delegation think about Samiel’s fondness of Jay? Did everyone who noticed Samiel’s affection disapprove, or did some look at those two and think ‘kids these days, *fond head shake*’? When was the atmosphere friendly between the two delegations? When was it hostile? Were there other members of the delegations who became friends during that time? What did they bond over? If the two delegations had learned to care for each other more, would Mas-Hain have turned out the same way? What if the kill order was sent out, but the human delegation looked at it and said ‘no’? What then?

I guess the first chapter always gives me this impression that the Mas-Hain project really was working, which is why I can’t stop thinking about,, them. being friendly and cool with each other. watching Samiel and Jay be young and silly. forgetting about the war out there,,, and then. u know. not start killing each other.

Hi Anon! :D It's lovely to hear from you (and don't worry, I'm a lurker too)! I'm so pleased you enjoyed IB, and I will admit you put a huge smile on my face when I read you still think of it (and read bits of it)!

Absolutely no apologies necessary about being shy about commenting. The most important thing for me is that you enjoyed the fic, so I'm very happy! :)

As you've probably guessed, I tend to ramble excitedly when I get excellent questions like yours! So I've put my babbling behind the cut below:

Firstly, I have to say I love the fact you asked about Mas-Hain! It's not often I get an opportunity to shout about it, so thank you!

The other humans and Lenians were hand-picked by their respective sides, mostly based on their abilities or political ties. Both groups were military, but the individuals were not only soldiers (if that makes sense?). Jay is actually a great example of this: technically he's a pilot. In reality, he's actually far more useful as a military-political operative, working in complex situations. Because both groups weren't 'just' soldiers, they were also quite good at thinking outside the box, so they were chosen precisely because they wouldn't default to picking a fight when living in close quarters with the enemy.

I think until they were all assigned the mission, the human delegation hadn't met before. I suspect they went through high-intensity training before Mas-Hain, to ensure they wouldn't cause an incident. They could work together, trust each other because they were being formed as a unit, but on a personal level didn't know much about one another. I think close proximity over the months of Mas-Hain changed that to some extent - they all got on relatively well.

In terms of the human reaction to Samiel's fondness for Jay, I think to start with it flew under the radar. The whole point was they were there to learn more about one another, so two people forming a loose kind of friendship wasn't outside the bounds of the mission. I think attitudes may have changed when Samiel started to lose all subtlety (seeking Jay out above everyone else; affectionate touches etc.), at which point I suspect people moved to cautious concern. After all, even though the point is to start building ties, getting too friendly with the enemy can cause a whole host of problems.

That said, I think there was also a fair degree of tolerance to it. Certainly to my mind, Palek in particular was slightly heartened to see Samiel forming something of a friendship (even when he had to report it to Deneira). Samiel was, I think, a fairly isolated person - even amongst his fellow Severne - so I think Palek may have been less concerned than some of his colleagues.

I think on the whole the atmosphere was mostly cautiously optimistic, veering towards tentative friendliness. I don't think either side trusted the other, but equally the reason the individuals were mostly picked was because they were open to the idea of talks. The Mas-Hain model of cooperation was based on the Medusae's mode of diplomacy (adopt your enemy and learn from them), so there had to be a degree of tolerance.

I think sometimes tensions did flare - most likely when someone accidentally crossed a cultural boundary they weren't aware of. (For example, I could see some of the humans discovering Samiel was showing Jay some salzon skills, and thinking they could learn too. Which would have been a big no!)

I think the others gradually started to form vague friendships. I don't think you can live in close proximity and not develop some camaraderie. I suspect they bonded over weird similarities in military life, along with stories of families and the discovery that both sides were not, in fact, the monsters you warn your children about.

That said, I think one of the tragedies of Mas-Hain is that no one was given enough time for these bonds to develop fully. I think had there been more trust, the whole murderous ending could most definitely have been avoided. Precisely because the people on both sides were sent for their skills of thinking beyond a simple command, had there been closer ties, I have the vague notion that they could all have ended up going rogue, and trying to work out exactly why the humans had been sent a kill order. (Which honestly makes me think of happier AUs, where Samiel and Jay are part of a roaming band of piratical human and Lenian deserters, who go around trying to fix things. They keep bumping into a furious Hird, who is desperately trying to arrest them. XD)

I absolutely agree with you: I think it was working! Unfortunately, I think before it was given enough time (and keeping in mind neither Deneira nor Lault wanted a positive outcome), it became the mess that happened in IB. Sadly, I think the ruined potential of Mas-Hain is one of the really frustrating tragedies of the IB universe.

[unicornbitchface]

Raat ki Rani

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Background: A story set in the colonial past of India.

Beta’d by my lovely friend @madbaddic7ed​​ !

Warnings: harsh languange

...............................................................................................

Chapter 3

The hall looked magnificent as if the ghosts of the past had brought them back to the days of glory. The chandelier was lit up, its jewels reflecting light upon every nook and corner.

The musicians played with vigor, expecting a heavy reward for their best efforts and the sweet-scented welcome of every guest added to the pomp.

Every high born around the state was to be present in the feast, and there they were, happy to make the acquaintance of the new British resident. The only glitch was that the said officer was nowhere to be seen, making the Maharaja jittery and a little annoyed.

Soon everyone would start asking questions, for how long was he supposed to distract guests with starters? With this thought, Ganga nodded at Kulwant, asking him to get an update.

*******

Late again! But the blame was on the delay with the dress they insisted to be worn. What was wrong with the old ones? Nothing when I see them!

Who in their right minds would wear these? UGH. I will have to talk to the culprits after this goddamn feast for that buffoon!

As Damini walked through the seemingly deserted halls of the palace, fixing her stubborn hair, adding a gajra and cursing the dressmaker, she did not realise that she took a wrong turn.

Distressed by her woes of fashion and etiquette that mandated her presence in that debauchery, she walked in a jiffy towards her dear friend, Ashwanth.

The gajra, long forgotten, embraced the side of the marble tile near a very special room. Only the melody of her heavy gold trinkets echoed in the air paired with a certain gift, attracting the attention of a handsome blue-eyed devil who was switching to his suits after giving the Indian kurta a chance.

The sound made him curious like the first night, and his feet dragged him to the halls. Only half dressed, shirt unbuttoned, he looked around and tried to trace the echo. All that he could concur, was a moving shadow with the curves of silk, the bells moving in sync with those voluptuous hips. Coming back to his allotted room, the only remnant of that siren laid across the floor.

The gift.

That smell.

His hand snatched the bunched flowers, as if the grounds would swallow them if he wasn’t quick enough. One whiff and he knew he needed it in his life more than the opium his friends favoured.

So, it belonged to a person after all, and by the accompanying silhouette, a woman.

His woman.

A sudden realization had his pupil dilated, as he went back to the room. She might be at the feast.

If he heard them right, everyone significant would be present in that hall, and she was the most significant.

He chuckled at his poetry, what is wrong with me, he thought. He moved around the room with swiftness but also a renewed interest, humming tunes while he applied a dash of cologne and adjusted his jacket to perfection.

He passed the mirror one last time, stopping to fix his hair. He had to look perfect for his sweet maiden. His brows furrowed, a troubling thought flashing his mind. What if she was spoken for? What if she was claimed already, her heart in someone else’s hands?

Blue eyes turned colder than a foot of ice.

Hands on the desk,

He looked at himself,

A crooked smile gracing, 

Then what?

Then,

A war like no other.

A war that would put Trojan and Mahabharata to shame.

A knock at the door tamed the raging storm in his eyes. Lord Cavill looked up, frowning at the distasteful intrusion upon his whims and fancies.

Ah, the big bad boulder.

“Come in, General! I assume you are here to escort me to the venue?”

“Khamba Ghani Cavill Saab. I heard that the British people are always on time, and yet here I find you, barely dressed for the occasion.”

A smirk laced the British resident’s face as he retorted, “Well you’re not wrong, but I happen to be the guest of honour and I may arrive whenever I may please. In fact, just for that comment, I would like to take a few more minutes before I leave.” And he turned towards his desk and picked up a recent correspondence from the Crown. 

Kulwant couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a movement instantly caught by the blue-eyed man. 

“Keep going! I will take an extra minute for each time you roll your eyes, kind sir.”

It was beyond the General’s comprehension that a man as petulant as this entitled bleached monkey, could even hold the post of a hawaldar in court, let alone be a Lord of some sort. Nevertheless, he was a guest, and of honour at that.

Thus, the loyal servant of the court stood tall and quiet while the firang made his point, albeit unnecessarily.

Once he was done having fun at the General’s expense, Cavill agreed to be escorted to the event. He reached the hall, and couldn’t believe his eyes for a minute. 

The hall looked straight out of a fairytale, and the worth of the mere jewels studded on the walls could help him buy a couple of kingdoms.

He reigns in his musings, and walks toward Maharaja Ganga Singh. 

************

“We don’t have time! Baba will decorate his court with my head! Let’s go!”

“Damu! Come on, wait! You don’t even have flowers in your hair.”

“You think I care, Ashwanth!? I can barely move in this outfit! It’s so heavy and so unnecessary! All for that invader and his honour! What can be more honourable than stealing lands you have no business with, right?”

“Damu, don’t be silly! You’re a princess, and you cannot just march into the hall like a maid! Here, let me put these roses and..Can you just.. oho! THERE.”

“That’s right! I am a princess and this is my palace! Watch me..”

The two friends kept bickering along the way. Anyone who had seen these two would mistake them for longtime lovers, and yet things remained strictly platonic, at least from Damini’s end. 

For someone with an expertise in strategising, warcraft and literature, the princess often missed the veiled looks Prince Ashwanth threw at her. How he always brought gifts, only in exchange for her ruthless company and how he bowed down to all her incessant demands, all for her pleasure.

To Ashwanth, she was the key to his future and beyond. To Damu, he was the ever constant confidant, seemingly balanced and loyal to a fault.

As they moved towards the hall, she made eye contact with her father and naturally started walking to him, just like she has been trained to, her seat to his left calling out to its rightful master. What she didn’t realise was a figure moving in the same direction.

Lost in conversation and the pull of the decorum, she collided with a commoner, which only fueled her frustration.

“Dekh ke nahi chala jata kya? Humare raste aane ki himmat kaise hui?” (Can't you see where you're going? How dare you get in my way?)

“What did you just say?! How dare you use that tone with me?

“Poore mahal mein yeh gorey deemak ke bhaanti badhte hi ja rahe hain! Ek din ka bhi chain nahi hai!”(These white people are everywhere, like pests! Give me a break)

“Damu yeh..”(Damu this is….)

“Honge apne desh mein nawab, yahaan pe inki aukaat humaare naakhoon baraabar bhi na hain! Aur aise kya ghoor rahe hain yeh, laaj lajja kuch hai inko?” (He might be a Lord in his country, but here he isn't worth my toenail! And why are you staring at me like that? Have you any shame?)

Lord Cavill fumed at this disgrace of a woman, one who dared to look him in the eye and dared to speak while addressing him directly. Although he could not understand her words, her tone and posture were enough to get her backhanded, had they not been in the presence of company.  

This unruly child must be taught a lesson.

If anyone asked Lord Cavill, a woman’s tongue is only good for two things, sewing her mouth shut and on his cock whenever he pleased. If he didn’t expect the siren of his dreams to be in attendance, he would have put her in her place. Even if he could not punish this puny, dusky troll, he still had a reputation to defend.

“You listen to me carefully woman! You are messing with the wrong man, and spewing gibberish in some primitive language is not going to save you! Do you even know who I am? You are in MY bloody court and if I please, I can rip that serpentine tongue out of that pretty little hole! So you better apologise!”

“Cavill Saab.. please.. that’s my..”

“APOLOGISE? For what? Standing on my own soil? Or comparing you to a termite? None of which are false in my eyes. So get out of my way and know your place or you know what, go cry to your incompetent Lord!”

A storm raged in their eyes, wrath of all oceans combined in his and a black blizzard stirred concurrently in hers.

“Eyes down now, foreigner. ” The Tigress growled in warning.

The entire hall was suddenly quiet at the outburst. The musicians had stopped playing, and by the look of amusement on their faces, this was not the first time Damini Bai Sa had been the centre of attention.

Ashwanth tried pulling her back, her father was shooting daggers at her, while her siblings stood with aggravated expressions, exasperated by this wild child. It was Ganga Singh, who walked towards the ruckus and roared, which broke the deadly silence that had thickly draped the occasion.

“DAMINI! Are you out of your mind?! Do you even know WHO that is? Forgive me my Lord! This is my youngest child, Rajkumari Damini Bai, and I do not know what got into her, she is nothing like this!”

Renu and Revati Bai snickered at this comment and tried to hide their glee when they could see their father’s plan failing. No way will Lord Cavill bed this wild boar! They were preparing themselves for saving the kingdom, all the while reaping the seeds of pleasure from it.

“Damu, this is Lord Cavill himself. What is wrong with you, my child? Apologise, right now!”

“I would rather do Jauhar..” (light a pyre)

“DAMI..”

“It’s alright, Mr. Singh! I cannot expect common courtesy from uncultured brats like her. It just saddens me that you bear this burden on your shoulders! She certainly must have brought tremendous shame to the title of a Princess!”

Damini was about to give him a piece of her mind when Ashwanth pulled her back and gave her a solid glare.

Lord Cavill continued, “ Forgive me, but Maan Singh and your daughters seem like true blue-blooded beings. Has she been adopted from the streets?” His condescending tone should have had all the swords in the realm drawn up, but the language barrier and a father’s resolution to shove his daughter at him, saved the British neck.

Damini could not tolerate the insult and charged at him, “ Oh this is it! You goddamn plague sore! I will..” but was blocked by Ashwanth who was done watching her embarrass the Rajputana pride like a common whore.

“THAT IS ENOUGH DAMINI! Go take a seat!” The Maharaja ordered. But when she moved to her designated seat, her father grabbed her by the arm and lashed out with gritted teeth, “Sit with the guests. That seat belongs to your Master now. And don’t you dare embarrass me further. You are to serve him, and make sure he is left wanting for nothing. Nothing.”

Tears threatened to fall as the Tigress straightened her back, the princess coming to the fore, taking her position in the room, finding her place in the oppressive hierarchy.

Cavill watched her change her stance, a subtle nod to whatever her father threatened her with and for a second, he was impressed by the precise mutation. That is when he noticed the princess for the first time. Not so bad for a desert kingdom, blooming in all the right places. 

Back home, feisty women were his speciality, and he would often tame the likes of this woman, ploughing through their virgin lands.

His eyes wandered to her navel, as she walked to the guy who took her away earlier. Must be fucking her, and not enough at that! If she were in the right bed, she would be blissed out and her tongue tired. He could see her under him, screaming for an entirely different reason.

As the lust awoke, the mere thought of breaking this ballsy female had blood rushing to his groin, steeling his resolve as well as his cock. He had never bedded a princess, and was primed to claim her body for one night.

If that man could have her, she was fair game to all.

He strode towards the prize, steps decisive and eyes frigid. That is when he heard her voice, lowered but not discouraged by any means.

“Ashwanth, they let him take my seat, MY seat! And how could he say that about my lineage!? It was my seat!”

Ashwanth patiently replied, “ Don’t create a scene Damu, a chair does not define your position in the house, neither does some outsider! And can you please stop talking in English? You know how our people feel about it!”

Damini was feeling suffocated and needed to take a breath, but her luck soured the moment she felt thick fingers grabbing her arm, and felt his breath at the nape of her neck.

“You don’t need to get so riled up, princess. You know you can always sit on my lap like the little bitch you are.”

Damini looked at him with such fire in her eyes that it would have put Hestia to shame.

"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me."

Taken aback, Cavill's grip loosened and she jerked out of his grasp with a rippling force. Much to the astonishment of the onlookers, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

The pride of her tears matched with the stride of the Tigress, refusing to fall before anyone.

***********************

Hindi Terms:

Khamba Ghani: Rajasthani salutation and a way to say hello. 

Firang: A derogatory term used for Europeans/ Colonisers, loosely translating to outsider.

Saab: Sir

Maharaja: King

Gajra: A traditional weave of scented flowers used as hair accessory by women.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@madbaddic7ed @henrythickcavill @toomanyfandomsshreya @inana999 @maximumninjavoid @mistress-of-ward

[myheroacademiashorts]

Heartbreak - Part 3

Prompt: Part 3 of “Heartbreak”... Pretty much just a confrontation from Mina and Bakugou after finding out that you’ve been dating Shinso. (Requested by @hains-j )

Rating: Fluff, Little Angst, and Scary Reader >:o

Word Count: 3,349

------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, after his confession, you and Shinso began dating immediately. You were scared to tell too many people, and your new boyfriend didn’t mind keeping your relationship on the down-low; you confided in Midoriya and Ochaco, but that was all. And it was already normal for you to cling yourself to Shinso while walking through the school hallways, or hang out in each other’s rooms… Neither of you were obsessed with PDA, so that was easy to avoid as well. You were only able to stay hidden under the radar for a week, however; then, the news spread like wildfire.

The one who realized the two of you had started dating was Kaminari, who easily noticed how Shinso tensed up whenever the electric blonde shamelessly shot pickup lines in your direction, or how your eyes always drifted to Shinso’s lips whenever he spoke. That’s what he had told you, anyways, but you had the sneaking suspicion that Midoriya had accidentally let something slip; although he was a great friend, he was absolutely terrible with keeping secrets. Not that you were too angry… You knew the truth would come out sooner or later, but a part of you wanted Shinso all to yourself. Now you’d have to share him with your curious friends. Not to mention a certain hot-head would be finding out, and his reaction to the news would be unpredictable even to you.

Mina had been avoiding you like the plague ever since you’d broken up with Bakugou, shrinking away whenever you rose your voice and avoiding your eyes. She still clung to Bakugou, much to his annoyance, and their friend group still accepted her. You had asked them to. While you were pissed with her, that didn’t mean that everyone else had to hate her too. That wouldn’t be fair. And even then, it wasn’t like you and her were best friends to begin with; the only reason you had begun talking to her was because of Bakugou, but since that had ended, you had no good reason to keep contact with her. Especially after what she had done.

You walked into class the next day, Shinso already on his way to his own room as you slid into your desk, not noticing the pointed looks from the classmates that had already gathered there. Ochaco was the first to approach you, face pale. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t tell anyone!” She murmured, and you knew what she was talking about before she could explain. You sighed, glancing over the others in the room, before turning back to her with a smile. “It’s fine. Kaminari found out, so he’s probably the one who blabbed.”

Tsuyu was close behind your friend, and she sat on top of the desk beside yours. “So when did you and Shinso start dating, ribbit?”

“So it’s true?”

“Woah, (Y/N) is dating Shinso?”

“That’s so cute!”

“When can we meet him? I wanna talk to your new lover!”

The questions and comments quickly flooded in, and soon you were surrounded. “Only a week ago, it’s true, and soon. I wanted to keep it quiet for a bit longer, but…” You shot a playful glare to Kaminari, who grinned in reply. Your phone dinged, and you glanced down to it, smiling when you see who’s sent it.

“Oooo, is that him?” Jirou teased, and you lightly shoved her shoulder away as she leaned towards your phone to get a closer look. Before you could reply, the door swung open with a thundering bang, and everyone’s attention moved from you to it. Bakugou looked more pissed than usual, but avoided eye contact as he stomped into the room, dropping into his seat and glaring at the whiteboard. Ochaco leaned closer to you. “Jeez, who rubbed him the wrong way this morning?” She whispered, and you cracked a small smile.

“Alright, alright. Everyone get into your seats.” Aizawa slinked into the room, his yellow sleeping bag already wrapped around his frame. “(Y/N), congrats on moving forward with your life, so forth and so forth. Everyone come up and grab a worksheet, make sure to turn it in by the end of class. And yes, you can work with others on this.” Momo’s hand dropped back to her side, and before she could formulate another question, the tired teacher had zipped up his bag and was fast asleep on the floor. Ochaco smiled, pumping a fist in the air. “Nice! Midoriya, can you grab us the sheets from the front?” She smiled sweetly at the stuttering boy, and he turned even more red when she thanked him with a brush of her hand against his. Man, he’s hopeless you thought to yourself, shaking your head with a grin as you started on the worksheet.

You worked contently for a few minutes with Midoriya, Ochaco, Tenya, and a few other friends before someone to your right pointedly cleared their throat. Reluctantly, you shifted your attention, frowning when you made eye contact with a familiar pink-skinned girl. She tried smiling at you, but it looked more like a grimace. “Hey, can we talk outside real quick?” She whispered. It had been the first time she had reached out to you, and while a part of you wanted to throat punch her, a small voice in your head urged you to hear her out. You bit your lip.

“Sure, let’s go.” Quietly, you stood from your seat and shot your friends a tired smile before following Mina out of the room. She led you around the corner of the hallway, far enough from reaching ears, before taking a deep breath. “So, uh… How have you been?” She sounded stiff and awkward. You snorted.

“That’s what you wanted to ask me? Spit it out so I can go back to class.” The harsh tone felt strange on your tongue, but you used it nonetheless as you glared at the girl in front of you. Her eyes scrunched up, and she innocently scuffled her shoe on the floor, despite you and her both knowing that she was anything but.

“I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“A little late for an apology, don’t you think?”

You weren’t making this easy for her, and you knew it. You enjoyed it. She looked like she was on the verge of crying, which only made you angrier. How dare she try to reach out for forgiveness now? You were stronger than that, not as soft as Ochaco, who forgave the girl easily out of pity. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t sure what to say, how to-”

“-explain to me that you’re a homewrecker? Hmm, I wonder? Maybe you should’ve written me a note? I like notes, those are nice… Dear (Y/N), sorry for sucking off your boyfriend! See you in class! XOXO!” You toss your hands up, staring at Mina in mock surprise. “But waiting over a month for you to grow the balls? Man, that was sure a surprise! Yay me!”

Mina’s eyes finally narrowed at you, patience wearing thin. “What’s wrong with you? I’m trying to apologize, and you’re not being very nice about it.”

You scoffed. “I’m acting as I should in front of the girl who, may I repeat, came onto a guy who was already in a relationship. One that you knew about very clearly, might I add.”

“It’s not like he was stopping me!”

You paused at that; she was right, it wasn’t just her fault. But you held them both at the same level of guilt, and her trying to pin the majority of it on your ex only made your blood boil more. “I know that. I’m not telling you that I blame you more than him, but that doesn’t justify your actions. Stop trying to play innocent when you were acting like such a… a…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, yet Mina seemed to understand it even unspoken as her hands balled into fists.

“I liked him long before you did!” Her voice was bitter, and her shoulders sagged slightly as the truth began to flow from her lips. “I liked him within the first week of school, before you were even here! But no.” Her eyes became slitted. “You transferred here while we were all happy, and you ruined everything. All of a sudden, it was all about you, the new girl who had caught the infamous Bakugou Katsuki’s eye. You came waltzing into our lives and took the one thing I wanted the most in my life, other than to be a hero; you stole the boy I loved.”

“... That’s the reason you did it? Are you kidding me?”

Now you were really pissed, to the point that your quirk had begun to manifest around your body; black inky tendrils appearing from behind your back like hellish wings, dark smoke drifting from them and gathering by your feet. Mina glanced at them for a moment, unaffected, before pursuing the topic further. “Pretty much, yeah! I wanted him, and I took him from you. It worked, didn’t it?”

“From what it looks like, he treats you like a slice of moldy bread.” The comparison would’ve made you laugh in another situation, but not in that one. But it had been true; Bakugou had been unnaturally rude to Mina lately, icing her out of conversations and ignoring her advances towards him. The worst of it had been during training when, unknown to him, All Might had paired the two together, and Mina had left on a stretcher with multiple broken bones and bruises. Their fight had lasted only a few minutes, and the only reason she hadn’t been in worse shape was because Kiri had pulled Bakugou away from plummeting her further into the dirt.

“But at least I tried! You didn’t fight for him after what I did. You let him go! You didn’t really love him like I do!” Her voice was getting shrill.

One tendril shot out to Mina, wrapping itself around her throat and shoving her against the brick wall. Two more followed in suit, puncturing themselves on either side of her head. Bits of concrete fell on her shoulders, but you doubted that she notices as she clawed at the tentacle around her neck, eyes wide. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off her airways; just tight enough to cause a little panic. To show her you weren’t to be messed with, and that you were tired of the conversation. You leaned closer to her, adding a little more pressure to her throat as you smiled with false kindness. “Never question my feelings ever again. I did love him. That’s why it hurt when he cheated, why it hurt so much to let him go. But once a cheater, always a cheater; and I’m not easily tricked twice.” She was gasping slightly now, but a large part of you didn’t care. Instead, you had begun to like hearing her struggle. The smile turned darker. You knew you should’ve stopped a long time ago, since your quirk wasn’t just what it looked like. If you kept going, you would’ve most likely turned more bloodthirsty, and the thought made you-

“That’s enough.” The tendrils disappeared into thin air, and as they did so Mina inhaled loudly. You glanced towards your voice, wincing slightly as you met the red-eyed gaze of your teacher as he stalked down the hallway, hair rising as he pursed his lips. When he noticed the threat had subsided, he returned to his bored expression, yet anger still lingered. “Mina. Back to class, now.” She didn’t question him, and immediately high-tailed it back to her desk. When she had disappeared behind the corner, Aizawa looked back to you. The anger had simmered, but now there was something more that made your stomach churn; disappointment.

The teacher sighed. “I’m not going to ask for details, and I doubt Mina will push for them. But you’re going to have to face punishment for using your quirk on school grounds without permission.” He paused, gauging your reaction, and glanced at the two punctures on the brick wall before continuing. “One week of detention, and you’ve got to handle all of the chores within the dorm during that time as well.” You made sure to keep your lips sealed, knowing he could’ve given you a much worse punishment, and nodded. “Good. Head back to the classroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

As soon as you had returned to the room, Ochaco had pounced on you like a cat on a mouse. Guilt was clear on her face, and her eyes darted from Mina to you. “I’m sorry, are you okay? I was worried when you didn’t come back after a few minutes, and sort of sent Aizawa-Sensei to find you.” She puffed out her cheeks, and you laughed.

“It’s fine; I’ve got some detention, and I’ve gotta handle the dorm’s messes for a week. So I guess we’ll have to raincheck on hanging out at that new cafe, huh?”

“Don’t even worry about that! I’m just glad it wasn’t worse!”

You felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck, but chose to ignore it. Mina could go kiss your ass, for all you cared. “Me too. Could you help me with the worksheet? I need to play catch-up now…” You sighed dramatically, and your close friend giggled as she led you back to your desk.

What you didn’t know at the time, however, was that it wasn’t Mina glaring at you, but the blonde boy who had somehow stolen her heart and broken his own.

------------------------------------------

“Thank god it’s finally lunch! I’m starving!” You moaned, and Shinso smiled at your theatrics. After the incident with Mina that morning, you were happy to finally get the day over with. Or at least the school part of it. “What sounds good right now? Chicken katsu or pork ramen?”

“Considering you’ve had ramen twice already this week…”

You playfully glared at your boyfriend, but couldn’t keep the grin from sliding onto your lips. “Third time’s a charm, right?” You said, and the low chuckle he emitted made your chest warm. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead; now that your relationship was out in the open, he had become more easy-going with touches and short pecks. “Grab us our usual seats, and I’ll bring food to you.” He said, and shoved you forward slightly to your friend’s table before heading to the growing lunch line.

You shook your head, your smile still framed on your lips as you sat beside Tsuyu at your usual table. Midoriya, Ochaco, and Tenya sat across from you, all of them bringing their own handmade bento boxes. You groaned. “Geez, your guys’ food makes me feel lazy for not making my own.” Tsuyu turned to you - she was munching on a yogurt - when her eyes skittered to something behind your head. You turned, and groaned again; but this time, it was in annoyance.

“Can we talk?” His voice was as gruff as usual, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets and a slouch tainting his frame. Bakugou’s attention drifted to your friends for a moment, before returning to you promptly.

“(Y/N)-” You raised a hand, stopping Tenya in his tracks before he could begin his monologue. “It’s fine, guys. I’ll be back in a quick minute, okay?” You stood up, mentally preparing yourself for the second unfortunate face-to-face talk you’d have that day, and took a deep breath. Both you and Bakugou stayed silent as you followed him from the cafeteria to outside. The sakura blossoms were just beginning to fully boom, some of them already drifting to the grass by the pull of the wind. The blonde halted his walking, staring at the trees for a moment before sliding his vermillion gaze to you. You hoped you wouldn’t need to use your quirk again. Two weeks of detention didn’t sound fun, and one week of chores was already enough for you to turn a new leaf to be a straight-A student. Your own teasing made the corner of your lip quirk up slightly.

“When did you start dating that purple-haired freak.” He muttered, hands still deep in his pockets. He was staring at you, unblinking, but his lips had drawn into a fine line and his brows were furrowed. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“His name is Shinsou.” You ignored his question and instead tilted your head. “What do you want, Bakugou? To try apologizing like Mina did? I wouldn’t bother.”

He growled. “Fuck no. I already tried that, and I know that shit doesn’t work with you.”

“... So then why am I out here?”

“I don’t…” He pushed a breath out from his nose, his face looking more frustrated. “I don’t like you with him.”

“Tough luck, buttercup.”

He glared at you, but smiled slightly. Not a smirk, but a rare smile. “I used to hate those stupid nicknames you made up.” He reminisced, glancing back to the blossoms. He bit his bottom lip, thinking, and turned back to you. “Are you always going to hate me?”

You tensed. You had expected some yelling or screaming, maybe him threatening to blow Shinsou up a few times, but you weren't prepared for vulnerable Bakugou. You let your shoulders relax slightly. “I don’t know. Probably not.” You mused, looking at the flowers as his head shot to you. You ignored his questioning gaze.

“Do I still have a chance, then?”

“No.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see his shoulders deflate a bit at that. “I really am sorry.” He murmured, and out of all his past apologies, this one sounded genuine. You looked at him, his eyes staring at the ground and a crestfallen expression glued to his face. A part of you pitied him.

“I know. But I still can’t forgive you. Not yet, at least, and not completely.” You were surprised at how calm you were being; after ignoring him for weeks, you were talking to him as if he were familiar. Maybe not as familiar as he was, but definitely not like a stranger. Was this growth? Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to be nice.

“... If he ever hurts you, I’ll beat his ass into the ground, ya know.”

“I can do that myself if the time comes, thanks.”

He laughed, once, but it startled you. A sad smile was on his lips, and you realized you had never seen Bakugou so open before, dropping his tough-guy act entirely. Before he could open his mouth to speak, however, someone cleared their throat, and his expression went blank. For the second time that day you turned to the noise, but instead of seeing Aizawa, his student intern stood there. Shinso didn’t look upset, face devoid of any emotion as he raised one eyebrow in your direction. “Ready to eat? Food’s getting cold.”

You smiled warmly at him, stepping forward to entangle one of his hands in your own. He was tense, but at your touch he immediately relaxed. “Yup! Let’s go… I’ll see you later, Bakugou?” You left it up as a question, not wanting to push him as you extended an olive branch. Not forgiving, but learning to. The blonde nodded slowly, and you accepted the answer with a growing grin before pulling Shin back into the cafeteria building, leaving Bakugou alone to collect his thoughts.

“You okay?” Your boyfriend asked, squeezing you hand slightly to gain your attention. You slowed slightly, looking over at him, taking in all of his features carefully; from the wild mess of lavender hair, down to his eyes and to the small pout beginning to form on his lips. You stepped up onto your tip-toes, giving him a short but effective peck that melted away his pout almost immediately. “I’m okay. C’mon, I’m starving.”

And you were okay; you had a feeling that everything was going to start being better than okay.

[themostexpensiveboningknife]

2020

Failed party, money in drawer, communicate, move house, move boxes, drive in van, walk to shops, buy noodles, think it’s the end, see whole bus of soldiers in Beijing, new area, walk in darkness, think about leaving, leave, think its temporary, in taxi, post stupid photos, check and check again phone, think people with goggles on my plane are over reacting, take off my mask to eat, keep taking off to loosen, arrive back in London. Tube. Cold. Pub. Party at WeWork. Exhibition at Dulwich Gallery. Farringdon. Drugs and drinks. Brockley, South east London. DJ. Ethiopian food. Morley’s Peckham. Walking on the River. Photographer friend’s house. Canal cycle. National Gallery. Car crash, Dalston. Omar Souleyman. Corsica Studios. Meet girl, back to my friends, back to hers, sex. Morning up to mum’s best friends birthday, Covent Garden restaurant. In a van, Sunday roast. Chisenhale Gallery. arebyte Gallery. Getting worse in China, seems nice and easy and calm in England. Camberwell beers and more. Second-hand book shops, Charing Cross Road. Courtauld. Leafed through a book about a man who lived his entire 86.5 years in East London. Still talking to the same girl back in China. Both believe I’ll be back soon. Chicken wings. West London, meal. South London pub. DJing somewhere inside. Kent, see grandma. Rave, Bermondsey. Friends from Israel and Germany arrive. More drinks, more drugs. Mixing friends. Gay bar in Bethnal Green for old friend’s birthday. Acid, confused and hilarious. Tate Britain. Serpentine. Cranes on the bridge. Liverpool Street film screening. Feels shallow, but good. Begin regular E Pellici sojourns. Primrose Hill with Dad. Beer festival with Keaton and co. Peckham, school friend’s house, bad vibe. More drinks, more drugs. Working on first music compilation with Slowcook and Fafa. Begin watching all of the Studio Ghibli movies. Watching Breaking Bad. At some point have huge argument with my brother, it went like this: He came home from work and I was sitting watching Breaking Bad, he asks, “Have you been like that all day?” I either took it in the wrong way or picked up on a sly dig. It was probably me, but at this point I was pretty self-conscious and worried about going back to China and whether or not I would have a job back there. Was getting surprisingly pissed off with my brother mentioning his work, felt like an affront to me. Weird. He goes crazy (he has a short fuse), punching a wall, ready to fight me. My mum is pretty upset. A few days later I go into his room and try to patch things up. Turns into a deeper chat. He feels like I haven’t been a good brother to him, he gives the example of not looking out for him on his first days of school. I say I’m sorry, it’s because I’m a bit scared and insecure. In retrospect I regret a little laying so much weakness on the table, seems his interactions/ways of acting around me have changed a bit. Still not sure how I feel about it all. Considered getting a gold tooth with Matthew. Play with cats, enjoying them more and more. Rave in Dalston, good music from Asia and beyond. Looking at magazines. Not doing much work at all. Being out and about instead. Go to Norfolk. It’s beautiful, but get way too drunk on first night, sick everywhere, wake up naked in sick. Massive fucking shitshow. Majority of people there have no choice but to act weirdly around me now, which is understandable. Still some nice aspects. One girl there surely hates me a lot. Tate Modern. Art stuff by self is good. Corsica Studios, semi-art, semi-music event. Mr. Bao for first time of many. Radio in Tottenham. Take drugs. Pubs. Drive to Asda with brother to stock up on food. It’s March and the reality of the pandemic is hitting. More canal cycling. First and only group chat on Zoom. BH Funk. Probably have taken cocaine and messaged one of three or four girls numerous times by now. If there’s one, in the cold light of day, horrible and disgusting thing I’ve done too much this year it’s this. Incessant messaging of poor girls that I know will react (although increasingly they don’t, I manage to alienate even close friends in this way). Southbank and The Mall with Nick. Reading about Wuhan. List of good texts. Continuing to do some writing. Making WeChat posts for guī WeChat, including mix series and miniessays. Greenwich park with Matthew. Grime quiz online. Delivering food regularly for my mum’s school. Hackney Marshes with Luan. Epping Forest with Mum and Dad. By this point probably have woken up feeling sorry for myself in Ludo’s flat, after untold amounts of alcohol and cocaine. Online rave. Beijing artists only mix. Go to Switzerland, pass through Italy on the way. Its breath taking, the mountains, the expanse of scenery, not used to it. Climbing up mountains with no one around. Rolo and Patrick and Rita smoke too much weed. I really, really, really still hate smoking it. Feel a bit annoyed how long we spend sitting around while they smoke, but this is way outbalanced by the uniqueness of where we are and the beauty all around. Producing more and more, actually getting somewhere. Cooking more and more food. Reading more and more, like: Black and British, The Corrections, Real Fast Food, Bass, Mids, Tops, Zadie Smith, Olivia Lang, Graham Greene, JG Ballard, Monica Ali, Mo Yan, Jenny Zhang, John le Carre, Naked Lunch, Nabokov, Bukowski, Zora Neale Hurston, Wiley, Bitcoin, Murakami, Judith E. Butler, The Painter of Modern Life, Maupassant, Chekov, Video Art, Gravity’s Rainbow (couldn’t finish), Anaïs Nin, The Net Delusion (couldn’t finish), The Establishment and how they got away with it (couldn’t finish), Roddy Doyle, The Secret of Scent, General Intellects, Women In Love, The Intelligent Investor, Lyndon Johnson. Victoria Park more often than I can remember. To Chrissy’s house. Mile End Park. Very regularly sitting on the river in Wapping. Bring the chessboard and play Ludo sometimes, people smile and look at you differently when you’re playing chess and drinking beers versus just sitting and drinking beer. I May Destroy You. Industry. The beautiful wide expanse of Hackney Marshes. My incessant quest to reach 1000 followers in Instagram. More cycling, and I hate to say it but it really was: Here there and everywhere. Margate with my Dad to see my grandma in hospital and saw the Turner Prize exhibition. Light blue like scrubs, the sky and sun felt eternal. Swimming in dirty water. Make a DJ mix of old 2000s Road Rap. Eat cheese in Peckham. Cycle along the canal north, keep going and going through Tottenham, past Enfield keep going, it’s mad how quickly it becomes quiet fields on all sides, arrive to some kind of lake, swim and then back to the centre of town. Outside a Hawksmoor church in Shadwell ate chicken with Karim and Ludo. DJing. From my bedroom window saw a big crane in the middle of the night sitting on the canal. Begin developing the second DCCY compilation this time with BULLY magazine. Go to a house in an old school in Camberwell. Discover new secret riverside spots in East London. Finally give up my apartment in Beijing. Mile End park. Cycle further and further East to a pedestrian bridge I didn’t know existed. Get onto the beach and into the Thames water. Interview Akito. Begin writing more, after few months of wiling away the summertime. My friend Emmy gets married in Rwanda, I give him some money as a wedding gift which he tells me he used to buy his wife’s dress. Protests in HK always on TV. Get more into finances, crypto and trading, and just saving in general. Had sex with an old friend. Now meeting a girl I first knew years ago in Beijing. More secret river spots. Keaton has his baby, Noah. More times on Hackney Marshes. Barbican conservatory. Watching more films, try to watch all the films of some directors including: Jia Zhangke, Bong Joon-ho, Edward Yang, Wong Kar-wai, Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Decide to watch all of the infamous lauded series, go through Breaking Bad, The Wire and The Sopranos. Go to the seaside for a few days, camping also. Henry Wu album launch in a car park in Bermondsey. Go to visit Keaton’s baby for the first time. Good photography exhibition at Photographer’s Gallery. Go to Wallace Collection again. August. Go to Berlin. Swimming in Berlin lakes until I get an ear infection. It makes me drowsy and lethargic, but still seems to spend all my time cycling around the city. On one night cycle for hours to a rave on the outskirts of the city. Like a lot the abandoned airport in Berlin. Oh yeah, vaping. Found a dead bumble bee. Speak with Nevin about projects. Write a piece about the future of the art world for a magazine being started by Nevin’s friend in Canada. Go to Lithuania. Walk around Vilnius, get too drunk by myself. Get to the Curonian Spit and Nida, beaches and new friends. For the Nightlife Residency project. For a short while life is like on a desert island of new food, new people, new locations, quiet and new meaning. Go to the Russian border on the beach. Cycle to the road boarder and get stopped by the police. Go nude on the beach for the first time. Sauna, sand dunes and forests. DJ out for the first time in ages, this time with Nono. To Kaunus and try nice and stodgy Georgian food for the first time. Hackney Wick back for party. Meet a ginger girl online and go on a date. Wallace Collection again. Free beer and pizza. White Cube. National Gallery, Titian. On BBC Radio London with my Dad. Riverside beers. Saw a lost swan near my front door. Meet Keaton near his work, one of many times. Making more and more music, getting better. Decide I need more organisation and clarity, put everything I’ve done on a blog. More or less long since given up on my job at M Woods. But don’t really begin looking for anything new because it’s still sunny. At some point I start getting benefits money. Go to see La Haine in the cinema. Someone blocks me on WeChat because of me. Some pub somewhere. Sunday walks and breakfast with my parents. Go to an exhibition in Woolworth Road with Muzi. Realise how nice it is to run to Victoria Park along the canal. Vicky Park in general. Dinners at friends’ houses. Museum of London. Walking with Michael in some countryside near London, surprising how quickly things turn green. Break onto a pier in Wapping with Jack. Battersea Park. Tate, Bruce Nauman. Old Street Weatherspoon’s with Keaton, drugs. Central London cemetery. Chinese in Camberwell. Chinese in Aldgate. Italian in Camberwell. More and more exercise, running, weights and yoga with my brother. Sadie Coles. Nick, Central London. Gucci Mane. Hampstead Heath more because Ludo and his flatmates are nearby. Ludo’s now house more for days and nights of you guessed it. Borough Market more, with Emma. Alexandra Palace walk and famous sandwiches after. Tate Britian new lights. More time at Muzi’s. Signing up for cycle courier. LYL Radio show. Shave head. Take acid and it hurts my stomach. Camden Arts Centre with Muzi. Christmas party with friends. Birthday. Cake with Muzi, presents and Indian takeaway from family, walk in Vicky Park with Ludo and Karim plus battered sausage and chips. Christmas at home nice and warming meal. Evening to Ludo’s place with more friends. Boxing day with Matthew, pints and then more at his house in Peckham all night long. Next day is tough! Giant turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey curry. Buy first NFTs. New Year’s Eve stay in at Muzi’s, one drink and a cake.

[talktoaspeck]

A lazy summer afternoon in Allahabad, Aman is heading back home from his ISC coaching classes. Although it's just a 10 min walk , It often takes him over an hour to reach home. On his way back he pensively stares at the old buildings, and the new ones, and compares the two. He likes the old ones. They have so much history and character. He takes in the hustle and bustle of the busy market that he comes across next. He knows what grocery he has to buy— His mother gives him a list every morning before he leaves for school. He knows which shops he has to make stops at, where he may find the churmura wallah from whom he buys churmura everyday. Everything is as it is supposed to be be and he loves it. He is in no hurry to reach home. The repitition of these monotonous task is like the repitition of a beat in a melodious song: much welcomed. So much he drags his mundane chores at the market that one may think he doesn't even want to reach home.

He does not.

His reluctance to reach home as early as possible after a long day at school and coaching class does not stem from a lack of love and affection from his family. It is because of the opposite. His father, Shankar Tripathi, an agricultural scientist, who despite being busy working on a new strain of cauliflower which other than being an unappetising black in colour, he claims, is also maggot resistant, finds enough time to mollycoddle his only son. Aman's mother, Sunaina, whose full time job is to pamper her son,is predictably much, much worse.

A loud honk from behind startles Aman. He turns to a sight that immediately makes his heart jump out of his mouth. His brow is suddenly lined with beads of sweat and his pulse starts racing.

"Tripathi Jee, glad I found you. Look, new bike!," Chuckles a boy of his own age, sitting on a brand new motorcycle, revving it up to show off its brand new engine. "

It is Sarthak Khurrana, the coolest boy in his school according to both Aman and the school magazine's year end poll.

Sarthak Khurrana twists his body while being seated on his new bike and taps on the backseat, gesturing Aman to come sit. "Chaliye, Sangam ghuma laaye aapko, Tripathee Jee," he says.

Aman, ready to kill more time, jumps onto the backseat and off they go to Sangam. The holy Sangam, which is the confluence of the rivers Ganga and Yamuna, literally translates to union.

On the backseat Aman observes how weirdly Sarthak's ears jutt out of his head, almost at right angles, but they do not look bad on his face. "Nothing can look bad on THAT face," concludes Aman as he gets flustered at the thought. He isn't sure how he feels about Sarthak. They seldom interact at school. Whenever they do, it is usually Sarthak who initiates and he always calls him "Tripathee Jee". As a result whole school has started calling Aman that. Popular kids like Sarthak have that kind of power. Being referred to as "Tripathee Jee" makes him feel old and uncool. " Nobody, not even I, will ever call Sarthak "Khurran jee," thinks a smiling Aman.

They leave the city traffic behind. Aman stares at the way wind sweeps Sarthak's hair. The sky is a shade darker and the air is a touch cleaner and cooler. They take a turn to start on a worn out road that runs alongside Akbar's fort, and then turn onto a sandy kaccha Road that finally leads them to the sandy bank of Sangam.

They find a secluded spot where sonorous sound of bells being tolled at the nearby Hanuman temple, calls from mallahs beckoning tourists to go on boat rides, Screeches of hawkers selling Chaat, Pakoda, Samose, Churmura, Aloo dum etc. drown in the gusts of cool breeze that's rushing to them from the water body. There is barely any distinction between these sounds. They blend with the swishing of wind and form an ominous symphony that just hangs eerily in the background.

"It is peaceful here," says Aman awkwardly.

"So how did you like my new bike. Makkhan na?"

"Acchi hain. This red colour matches your skin tone. You look good on it."

"Hain?'

" I m..mean...this bike suits your personality," stutters Aman.

" Oh..Thanks, "smiles Sarthak and looks up in the air, "I can just hope Bhumi thinks it, too. I have been meaning to ask her out on a date for so long now. But ..tum jaantein ho ..her family is so conservative."

The Sky is blood red in the presence of the sun that is now slowly sinking below the horizon line. The river looks like someone has put its entire extent on fire. It is kind of dark now. These two men are laughing together over an anecdote when one suddenly leans over and rubs his finger behind the other man's ear and gently kisses him on lips.

The kiss lingers for a few second.

The other man suddenly breaks contact, pushes back, and then hits him in the face. He falls down.The other man kicks him to his heart's content and then leaves on his bike.

The one left behind is in pain. He is bleeding through his broken nose. He is scared. He feels so lonely. He takes his phone out and calls someone.

Devika's phone rings thrice before she answers.

"Hello, Kartik ..where are you ? Are you ok? ..hmm..You pinch your nose hard and don't move alright.. I'll be there in no time! "

She hangs up.

The sun is an orange ball hanging on the edge of the earth. Aman sees Rajni coming towards him on her bike, orange sun's reflectinons blazing on the goggles she is wearing. She looks like an angel to him. He has been crying.

" Tuh coaching Se Yaha kaise Pahuch Gaya..aur phir main hi milti hoon tujhe lift maangne ke liye? Jab man Kiya phone ganghana Diya. Number delete Kar mera," rambled Rajni.

"Sarthak got a new bike,"says Aman.

" Ayee ..Hot stuff Hain kya Yaha," She calls Sarthak Hot stuff while he calls her Goggle.

"Hot stuff date pe hain abhi with Bhumi.He wanted me to tag along so it doesn't feel like a date and madam Bhumi doesn't feel uncomfortable. He wanted me to be a third wheel. I said no."

"Ha ha ha," laughs Rajni, " don't worry he has broken many hearts before yours.Mine included. You will get over it"

" What do you mean "broken heart"..why would .."

"Whatever, Aman, " she speaks over him," chal peeche baith. let's go home," and kick-starts her bike to life again.

Meanwhile Kartik is staring at the burning waters of Yamuna river in Delhi. His broken nose has stopped bleeding but his shirt is soaked with blood through and through. An Activa Scooty stops behind him. He turns to find a concerned Devika with frozen packs and a first aid box.

" Baith isspe," she points toward Activa and Kartik follows her order. She starts attending to his wounds, " Kya zaroorat hain tujhe itna adventurous hone ki? pata toh Kar liya Kar acche se. Aur thoda apna horniness control main rakha Kar. India hain yeh.America Nahi," she rants mindlessly.

Kartik looks despondent. Devika holds his face in her hands, turns it to herself, and says," Cheer up, Kartik. I hate to see you like this."

"I am so alone Devika. Don't I deserve at least one happy ending?" He says and bursts into tears.

They both get on her Activa. Kartik's riding. They ride along the bank of the Yamuna River.

"The river Yamuna doesn't even look like a river anymore ," says Kartik.

" You should see it in Allahabad, Kartik. It is glorious there. It unites with the river Ganges there and forms the most revered place in the whole world," Says Devika as she grabs him from behind and rests her face on his back, " I'll take you there."

[targaryenimagines]

May We Meet Again

Daenerys Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,121

Summary: You know what's going to happen. You know that with utter certainty, but at least you get to gaze at your angel for one last time. (Continuation of Blackened Heart, for @hains-j)

Warnings: Incest

Drip

Drip

Drip

The sound of a steady flow of water hitting stone kept you awake. Your eyes staring resolutely at the wall in front of you. Tracing over every minute imperfection with keen eyes. You could see the abrasions a pointed object made against the rough surface. What you could clearly see as a last ditch attempt at freedom. Someone who hadn't yet given up on life trying to keep it in their grasp.

You, however, couldn't bring yourself to care if you lived or died. Each breath that you took seemed more like a task, a burden then the neccessary action for you to survive. Each inhale and exhale was laced with the feeling of fatigue and an overall sense of tiredness.

Leaning your head against the cool stone of your prison cell you allow for your eyes to slip shut. Your body relaxing, as much as it could, into the ragged embrace of it. The less refined parts of it digging into your back, but you didn't try to move away from it.

No, the pain and how uncomfortable it was kept you awake. It kept you aware of all of your surroundings. Every minute sound registered in your mind and was stored. You have no idea how much time has passed but by now you were well versed in the sounds of the dungeons. Clearly being able to decipher what sounds should and shouldn't be there.

So hearing the sounds of clanking metal approaching you causes your eyes to open. A small smirk pulling on your features as you continue to stare at the wall. Refusing to allow any emotion to appear on your face.

You had allowed them to capture you. You weren't going to allow them the pleasure of seeing you beg.

Even though there was nothing to beg for.

Moving your head in a lazy arch you stare at the door of your cell as the clanking halts in front of it. Blinking slowly as it is thrown open and the man who jailed you stands with a torch grasped in his hand. You watch as his eyes assess you with nothing short of contempt, but you only give him a smile when he stops at your face. You couldn't bring yourself to care what he thought of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to care what anyone thought of you.

Not anymore.

"Stand," he says, his voice coming out in a harsh bark that simply causes your eyebrow to raise. Did he really think barking like a dog would intimidate you? You had dealt with the Dothraki and raging dragons, his little dog imitation was cute but it was far from effective.

You watch as his face grows redder and redder the longer you stay seated. For a moment your worried his head might explode, and you didn't want the smell of a dead body in your already small living space.

Not wanting to deal with the stench of a decaying body you stand with a sigh. Straightening your back in a quick stretch that helps relieve some of the tension. Moving towards the man you could see the arrogance already brimming in his gaze. You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Did he truly think he was that intimidating? You have met children with a more frightening presence than the man standing before you.

Keeping your annoyance in check you raise your arms in front of you. Already knowing what was going to happen next, and a moment later the cool caress of metal graces your skin.

You're soon being led out into the hallway of the dungeons. Your attention not on the path you were going, no you had no use for that, but rather the doors that marked the hallway. You wonder how many people were behind them? How many people were simply wasting away in the damp recesses of the Red Keep?

You hadn't realized you had slowed until a sharp tug reminds you of your position. Quickening your steps you're soon climbing the stairs towards the outside world, and you couldn't help but feel a jolt of happiness at the thought.

Seemingly sensing your mood your jailer changes his course and takes you down another dark hallway. Leading you away from the sunlight and the cool breeze of the day. You couldn't help but be disappointed that you wouldn't be able to see the sky and feel the wind for one last time.

"A monster like you doesn't deserve to feel happy. You deserve to burn for what you've done," the man sneers as he tugs your chains harder. Even though you're right behind him.

A cold smile works its way onto your face, and your voice comes out in an icy whisper. "Didn't you hear? I don't burn, so the place you want me to go would be like heaven."

He only hisses in response and you suppress the urge to smirk. People were so easy to get a rise out of and this was just another example. Tell them what they don't want to hear or show them what they believe in is false, and they will turn into children. Raving, foaming at the mouth children but children nonetheless. Which is why you've always been amused by the social proceedings that happen before a trial. The intricacies that must come into play. Talking about it just enough to gain interest, and with that interest a buzz of excitement would run through the city. Talking about the person being tried and what they believe the verdict would be.

Never even knowing that the verdict was already decided before the trial even began.

You know that you were going to die, but at least you were going to die without any regrets.

Well, besides one. You never wanted to hurt her but the casualties of war and all that. It was inevitable that one of you in the end would be hurt. You were never going to end up together and that's a reality you lived with for months before this moment. Before you did what you did, you knew that Daenerys was never going to be yours. She had already started to give her heart to another.

Even though she still had all of yours.

Maybe that's why it was so easy to do what you did? People have called you a heartless monster and maybe they're right. You didn't have a heart and that's because it was in the clutches of your sister.

You're not even sure you want it back. You just hope that Daenerys will be happy with the new role she's in. You hope that despite everything she gets her happily ever after, because she deserves it. Even though it's not with you, you hope that everything turns out alright.

No one in the world deserves it more than her.

Soon your feet meets the refined stone of the inner part of the Red Keep. The polished stone glowing underneath the torchlight. It was a sight that twisted your stomach into a knot. Your ancestors walked this very hall. Your father walked this very hall when he was still king. When he was still killing hundreds of innocent people.

Like father like daughter, you suppose, as you continue down the hall. Only this time you were being tried for your crimes, and your father never was. Even though he deserved what he got, and so do you.

You deserve to be killed for what you've done, but even knowing that you couldn't bring yourself to care. Couldn't bring yourself to scrounge up any emotion, besides tiredness, into existence. There was nothing but emptiness in your body. Thoughts and feelings you know should be there were absent. Leaving you a husk of who you used to be.

You used to be the benevolent one. The one who hated the thought of violence and unnecessary bloodshed. The one that everyone thought was weak.

Look at me now, you think wryly and even your thoughts have a poisonous edge, you weren't quite sure when that happened. You're not sure when anything truly happened anymore. All you know is what you are now.

Empty.

Raising your gaze when you stop, you couldn't help the confusion that sweeps your body. Your brow furrowing in thought as you stare at the door in front of you. A much smaller door than what you were expecting for the Great Hall. Meeting the gaze of your jailer you could see annoyance in his gaze, but before you can say anything he knocks on the door.

The sound resonating, dully, down the hall.

Within a moment the door is swung open and Daenerys stands before you. Her chest rising with the force of her breathing and you felt worry start to worm it's way into your heart. The first emotion you have felt in a long time.

Again before you can speak Daenerys grabs you by the arm and pulls you into the room. Not even giving the man a chance to speak before she slams the door shut. Her eyes are frantic as she looks at you. Clutching your face with a desperate air that only causes your worry to grow.

Then, finally, she speaks her voice coming out as a sob. "They're going to kill you."

Understanding washes over your body as you stare at her. Meeting her tearful gaze with your own, unaffected, one.

"I know."

You watch as your nonchalant answer enrages her, and you weren't even surprised by the slap that happens a moment later.

"How could you be so unfeeling about the fact that you're about to be killed?" Daenerys asks, her voice coming out in a hiss. Her eyes starting to blaze with the familiar fire you grew up with.

Putting your hand on her shoulder to calm her down, you begin to speak. Trying with all your might to get her to see. "I knew the moment Rhaegal's fire hit the first house that I was sealing my fate. I've known what was going to happen the moment those shackles went onto my wrist. Every breath that I've taken since has only been because I'm on borrowed time. The only thing I'm surprised about is how long it's taken for me to get here."

"Then why didn't you run? Why didn't you leave if you knew what was going to happen to you?" Daenerys asks, her tone once again taking on a desperate air.

A sad smile pulls at your lips as you cup her cheek. Feeling your heart warm when she nuzzles into it. Brushing some of her tears away you gather your thoughts. Trying to desperately stop the breaking of your own heart.

The heart that was returned to you the moment you were in her presence again. The moment you saw how much she still cared for you.

"I stayed because I promised that I would never leave you," you say, dropping your voice down to a soft whisper. "I promised you that I would never abandon you, and I wasn't about to then."

"Even if it means you're going to die?"

"At least I get to see you one last time before that happens, and I deserve to pay for my crimes Dany. I deserve what's coming and at least I get to see my angel before it does."

You watch as tears start to steadily fall down her face now, and without a second thought you wrap your arms around her. Happy that you were able to because you had been released from your shackles moments before Daenerys had opened the door.

Bringing your lips to her ear you begin to coo sweet nothings to her. Like you used to do when nightmares plagued her. Telling her that everything was going to be okay, and that no matter what you would always be by her side. Nothing would ever, truly, make you leave her.

And as you stand in front of the crowd of people crying for your blood, you couldn't help but raise your gaze to her. Meeting her violet eyes with your own and you allow a small smile to appear on your lips. Trying to show her that everything would be okay and that you would be together some day.

That even though you were gone, you would always be by her side. In spirit and in strength you would be there.

Even as the axe comes down you kept your gaze locked with hers.

Gazing at the face of your angel for the last time as death comes closer and closer.

Knowing that nothing would ever stop you from gazing upon it again.

[spaceclefairy]

The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, Ch. 2

Pairing: Michael de Santa/ OFC; Trevor Philips/OFC; Michael de Santa/OFC/Trevor Philips

Summary: Los Santos is a hellscape, but if you've got brains and a little determination, it can be a real hell of a playground. Michael needs money, Trevor needs whatever Trevor wants, and Franklin's moving up in Los Santos. Jen's just along for the ride.

This is gonna be fun.

Author’s Note: I've been writing this beast of a thing since 2013. It's been through a thousand different incarnations, but it's been in my drafts for the last six years. I realize this fandom isn't as popular as it used to be, but I might as well have a little fun and finally start posting it.

The smut may have skipped this chapter, but fear not, it will return.

Also, not to be that bitch, but this is on Ao3. I would very much appreciate kudos/comments, if you’re so inclined!

Part 1  ||  Part 3  ||   Part 4

--- --- --- --- ---

The Agency had been snooping around the office again. Ever since the IAA’s stateside puppet had been voted out of office in favor of Jen, they’d been doing everything in their power to get to her. Jen was used to the heat; they’d get a little bored and come around again, always searching for something to use to pin election fraud on her. Funny enough, there was nothing to get. She couldn’t say she’d done a lot of things fair and clean in her life, but this might be one of the few honest things she’d ever done.

And anytime the Agency came snooping, the FIB was always right behind them. They’d quietly backed her in the election, much to her displeasure. She’d really prefer everyone left her alone, but this was Los Santos, so everyone wanted a piece of the pie.

The FIB had assigned a few different agents to babysit her over the past couple of years, but once they’d caught wind of her dating situation, they’d started sending Steve Haines and Dave Norton to check in on her. And, of course, when Jen got to work that morning, they were both standing in her office.

Jen closed her office door gently behind her. “It’s a little early for you two to be here - I should have bought an extra coffee to not share with you.”

Dave was okay for the most part. He was paunchy  and gruff, a middle-aged divorcee, and stereotypically average in every way. Haines could fall off a cliff. The golf dad attire and air of unquestioned authority made her eye twitch. And he always wore a little too much makeup, yet blamed it on his hair and makeup people. What a dick.

Jen pushed past Haines without a greeting so she could get to her desk. She threw her suit jacket over the back of her chair and took a seat, waiting for them to open their mouths about why they were there. Usually, it was nothing more than a cursory reminder that she required a babysitter. Sometimes, they had real business. Mostly, it was an unnecessary hassle that made Jen really glad that she kept a handle of gin in her desk drawer.

She fixed an even stare on Dave Norton, all but ignoring Haines, and crossed her arms. “Dave - always a pleasure. Agent Haines, you're here again. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

Dave sat down on her office couch while Haines took the chair immediately in front of her. Wonderful, they were settling in for a full morning meeting. She’d have to remember to disinfect after they left.

"Sorry to drop in without warning, Jenny-"

"Are you, though?"

Haines ignored her. "But we have business to discuss."

“The IAA is once again attempting to allege election fraud,” Dave said, getting right to the point. “We’re here to provide the illusion that you are well-protected from any such allegations.”

Jen sighed. “I know the drill. I have a clean record, no disciplinary actions, and no access to election software.”

“Of which they are aware, but they have a lot of funding and ample time to fuck around with whatever they like,” Dave replied.

Ever the impatient one, Haines once again made his presence known. Jen had never liked a man who threw his weight around with nothing to back it up, so she certainly didn't like Steve Haines. She couldn't imagine many people did.

“Enough about all that,” Haines snapped, waving his hand. “We've got your image under control. We’re here about the hitchhiker murders. What are you doing about that?”

"I'm sending a squadron of LSPD tactical teams to assess the situation within the next couple of weeks."

"Is that much force necessary?"

Jen was well-known for her reluctance to involve the LSPD any more than necessary, but she'd anticipated some push-back from the feds. "Not if it's the Altruists again, but there's evidence to say it may be the Lost MC or possibly the Aztecas. I've gotten word of another gun-runner popping up as well, but I haven't pinned that one down quite yet."

"And you're preparing for what exactly?"

"Being that the Lost and the Aztecas are methed-up and trigger-happy, I think it's fair to say we may not be welcomed warmly in Blaine County."

Haines nodded, satisfied. "Swiftly and with force - I've always liked your style, Jenny."

"Not enough to know not to call me Jenny, it seems."

Dave, sensing it was time to derail that particular train of conversation, took the opportunity to cut in. "And if it's just the Altruists again?"

Jen bit her tongue. "Then we take the loss of funding and turn it over to you boys. Cults are squarely outside of our jurisdiction."

"You've thought this through."

"I earn my paycheck, Dave," Jen grinned. "Do you?"

"I've certainly earned my paycheck today." Dave didn't know if she knew about the payments Michael made to him monthly, but she had a way of discovering shit like that without being told anyway. "Unless Agent Haines has any further business, I think we're done here."

Haines leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I could stay here all day, but I have to get to hair and makeup. I'm shooting a new episode of my show today."

"I'm sure that takes a while."

Haines finally got up and followed Dave to the door. "We'll be around, Jenny."

Jen opened her mouth, but Dave cut her off. "It's not worth it, Jen."

"He'll get his someday," Jen replied. "Pleasure doing business as always, Dave."

Dave shut the door behind him with a short warning. "Behave."

Jen sighed. There went her whole day, all because of an hour-long conversation. If it was just Dave Norton dropping in, she'd have no problem. It was dealing with Haines that exhausted her. He had a way of sucking all the energy out of the room with the sheer amount of assholery he generated.

She was definitely taking a long lunch today.

Jen had all but settled in to finally get to work when her phone ran. It wasn't her office phone - her personal phone vibrated in her desk drawer. The number on the face was a new one, but one she was glad to see.

"Jen Dixon, at your service."

The voice on the other end was wheezy and nasally, but it came through the speaker clearly enough. "I'm guessing Michael gave you this number."

"If this is Lester Crest, then yes."

"Oh, great, another biting sense of sarcasm." Lester wheezed, but he seemed amused. "I wasn't planning on calling you in personally on anything just yet, but I think your assistance would prove useful today."

"Glad you think so. What can I do for you, Lester?"

"Come to the warehouse this afternoon. We're wrapping up the finishing touches on what you and Michael discussed."

"Text me the address and the time. I'll be there."

"Excellent. Normally, I wouldn't have you come to the warehouse, but this works better if you see what’s going on. Don’t be late."

"Duly noted."

The line went dead without a goodbye. Lester seemed like the type to leave a conversation on a cliffhanger, so she wasn't disappointed. Her phone buzzed a few seconds later with a text detailing the location of the warehouse.

She slid the phone back in her desk drawer. She'd better get to work if she was going to be leaving early.

--- --- --- --- ---

Jen wasn’t exactly a stranger to the game. She’d been a rowdy teenager - defaced some property, stole from the liquor store. Dumb shit. Whatever it took to stave off the boredom of growing up in a town of less than three-thousand people. Yeah, it had been a problem when it came to applying for college, but her grades spoke for themselves - she’d just had to promise that she’d never, ever do it again.

But a little light defacement was nothing compared to this.

Lester had summoned her to the warehouse, much to her surprise. When Michael asked her to get involved, she’d thought this would be a hands-off kind of thing. Most likely, Lester was calling her in to make sure she knew that he had enough information on her to make her life miserable should she make any moves he didn’t like. She had no interest in that - she’d been promised a handsome pay-off more than worth the trouble and danger of getting caught.

Jen parked next to Michael’s car and trudged up the flight of stairs to Lester’s office. There were several ladies working in the warehouse, and none of them looked thrilled to be there. She could see why - the whole place smelled like sweat.

Michael and Lester were already there, as well as another man Jen didn’t know. She presumed this was Franklin, and found that she was right. Michael waved her in the office so that he could introduce her to everyone.

“Franklin, this is Jen,” Michael said, motioning between them. “Jen, Franklin.”

She shook his hand. “You’re the repo guy, right? Saved Jimmy’s ass?”

Franklin snorted and took her hand. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re the, uh-”

“Side piece,” Jen smirked, winking at him.

“Shit, I was gonna say the DA, but that works, too.”

“Figured we probably didn’t want to throw the ‘DA’ term around too much,” Jen replied. She moved to stand on Franklin’s unoccupied side. “Nice to meet you, Franklin. Michael thinks highly of you.”

“Alright, alright,” Lester said. “You’re making me nauseous. Let’s talk about the job at hand.”

"Done," Jen replied, cutting her eyes at Michael with a short grin.

Jen had never seen Michael do anything more strenuous than finish an intense round of golf, so she was rightfully excited to watch him handle something so squarely in his wheelhouse. She was aware of his past glories - some were almost too good to be true. She'd seen the scars from knife wounds and bullet holes though, so it wasn't that too good to be true.

Michael was a real professional, and it was a sight to watch him work.

She stood off to the side, peering over his shoulder as he stabbed pins into a corkboard and connected everything together into a fairly seamless plan. Lester made comments as he went, prompting Michael's usual snapping remarks and huffy attitude. Lester was a pro at ignoring the biting tongue and took it all in stride, much to Jen’s amusement. What must they be like as a pair outside of business?

Occasionally, Michael would ask for Franklin's input. Perhaps it was out of a sense of courtesy or maybe the desire to give Franklin a more active role in making decisions, but surprisingly Michael took much of his advice. Sometimes, he'd look over his shoulder at Jen and ask about something to do with the LSPD.

"Alright, we've got the finer points down," Michael said, stabbing one last pin into the corkboard. "Crew's been chosen, roles are in place, date and time down. Jen, how's our distraction coming along?"

Jen had been done with that for weeks already. "All warrants are in place and requests have been made. Looks perfectly legitimate - and it is. The feds have been on my ass about it, so it’s actually helping me, too. Blaine County isn't equipped to organize a sting like this, so LSPD is coming up to handle things. That should take most of the serious heat off of you."

"Fantastic."

"Now, we've just gotta rob a jewelry store," Franklin finished.

"We do the job, get the gems turned over, pay Madrazo," Michael said, "and we move on to better jobs. "

“Alright,” Lester said, leading them out of his office. “We meet back here next week - Jen notwithstanding - and we’ll get this show on the road.”

Jen followed the boys outside, taking note of everything in the warehouse. Lester obviously didn’t care much for his employees or really even the business itself. The place was a sweatshop, barely above board. It was probably just a cover to make himself look legitimate, but even still, it was less than stellar.

She caught Franklin at his car (shit, that was a nice car). “Here’s my number. I’m guessing your record is pretty clean if I’ve never met you before today, but you’re about to get into some heavy shit. If you need a stateside friend, you call me.”

“She’s good for traffic tickets!” Michael called from his car.

“You would know!”

Franklin laughed. “Alright, thanks.”

Jen walked over to Michael’s car, waving behind her. “Nice to meet you, Franklin!”

Michael leaned over the hood of his Tailgater. He’d been apprehensive about having Jen physically show up to the warehouse. It was one thing for her to help them out from the sidelines, but this could put her directly in danger before she knew what she was in for. Not to mention, she was a pretty public figure around Los Santos - one wrong person sees her walking into the warehouse and their cover could be blown. Lester knew what he was doing, though - Michael just had to trust him.

“I feel like you just took me to an office party, Mike,” Jen teased, leaning against the Tailgater. “I’ve never seen you so serious. It’s a good look for you.”

He laughed. “You handled yourself well.”

“Well, I like your work friends much better than mine.”

Michael climbed into his car and rolled the passenger-side window down. “You got a little time?”

“For you? Always.” She climbed into her car. “Meet me at my apartment and we’ll order in for dinner?”

“Race you there!”

--- --- --- --- ---

Jen rarely had a Saturday all to herself. She was either prepping for work the next week, maybe helping another attorney prep their caseload. She had errands to run, people to see - always something to do. Usually, it was fine, but she’d gone a bit stir-crazy as of late. That’s when she’d normally call Michael, but he was making a spirited attempt to connect with his kids this weekend (she’d get to hear how that disaster went later).

She could call some of her friends, she supposed. Mary Ann maybe, but she didn’t feel like going on a ten-mile run, as was Mary Ann’s usual suggestion. Gracie was back in Liberty City, Antonia was somewhere else entirely. She didn’t feel like hanging out with any of her lawyer friends - they only talked about work. So, she made the executive decision to make a new friend.

Franklin answered on the third ring. “Jen?”

“You got it,” Jen said. “You busy?”

“Not at the moment, no. Why?”

“I got nothing to do for the day - wanna hang out?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Excellent! I’ll text you my address. Swing by and pick me up.”

Franklin arrived within the hour. Jen hopped into the passenger seat of his car. She angled the AC vents towards her face and leaned her head back against the headrest. She loved this car - it was loud and tricked out, leather seats, the works. She should really upgrade - her Schwartzer was old and dated.

Franklin pulled out into traffic. “Alright, so why’d you wanna hang out with me? Don’t you have lawyer friends or somethin’?”

“Plenty of them. They’re all shitty people and they all want to talk about work. And not the fun stuff like the drama and scandal - the unsexy paperwork part.”

“So you picked me instead of Michael?”

“I just wanted to ride in the fun car,” Jen replied, winking at him. Franklin rolled his eyes, clearly waiting for a real answer. “Michael’s trying to be nice to his kids for once. Besides, Michael takes effort. He wants to go get dinner and drinks, watch old movies, and fuck on my couch. I love doing all these things, but just because I love doing them doesn’t mean I want to do them all the time. Plus, you’re a chill guy - why not?”

Franklin didn’t get to do much of anything without Lamar hanging off his arm or the fear of being shot in the back of the head in Chamberlain Hills. Up here in Vinewood, he didn’t know anybody and nobody knew him. “Works for me.”

They drove in silence for a while - a good, comfortable silence. Franklin was used to whoever was in his car yammering away, talking about big plans and dumb shit they were trying to pull off. Jen just wanted to hang out with someone who didn’t ask too many questions about work. Win-win.

But in the end, the silence was deafening for Franklin. He asked the only thing he really knew to ask. “So, uh, how’d you meet Michael?”

“You really want to talk about your work dad?”

Franklin sighed. “I just can’t figure out the dynamic between you two. He’s… and you’re…”

“We met in a bar.”

“That explains a lot.”

Jen watched the condos and bungalows turn to office buildings and skyscrapers. Franklin drove them past the line of upscale Vinewood bars and clubs - clubs too niche and tightly-managed for either one of them to be interested in trying to get into. He crept along through traffic, searching for a movie theater or a cheap bar to stop at.

They passed Chico’s and Tequi-la-la’s - her two favorite places. Chico’s was still an old pool hall in serious need of renovation. Tequi-la-la’s was a pretty upscale club now, but she liked going when she needed a girls’ night out. She’d met Michael at Tequi-la-la’s back when it had still been a dive bar for the professional crowd. She was slammed by nostalgia every time she saw the place - the expensive suit, the nice cologne, the clean-shaven face. She could almost feel Michael’s mouth on her as he pressed her up against his car before taking her home that night.

Fun times. She really needed him for a weekend.

“I moved to Los Santos right out of law school. I’d just started as a prosecutor here working the Blaine County property crimes. My family lives three thousand miles away, so it was really just me and a few work friends hanging out.” Jen looked out of the window, staring out at the Los Santos skyline. “I’ve never been great at commitment, but it’s nice to have a little romance every now and then. So, I figured I’d look for something low-maintenance: a guy with lots of money, still relatively young but past his prime, maybe an inattentive wife.”

Franklin snorted. “Well, damn. You hit the jackpot.”

“Did I ever,” Jen laughed. “I figured, maybe I’ll keep him around for a couple of years until I get my loans paid off. Then, I could buy a cute little house near the beach and maybe look for an actual relationship.”

“So what happened?”

“Plans don’t always work out,” Jen said, shrugging. “I went out to Tequi-la-la’s with some friends one night and someone sends me a drink, right? And I don’t accept drinks from guys in bars, but I figured I’d take the bait this time. So, I asked the bartender who sent it, he points out Michael. Boom - pretty much what I was looking for.”

“Right.”

“So, I walked up and introduced myself. And here we are, six years later.”

“The Los Santos love story…”

“Some kinda love story,” Jen scoffed. “Hey, you wanna go to the Unicorn?"

"The strip club?"

"Yeah, why not? Drinks on me."

"Well, shit, I ain’t gonna say no to that."

[nikachuwrites]

— && guests may mistake me as ( florence pugh ), but really i am ( charlotte carter + cis-female + she/her/hers  ) and my DOB is ( 01/17/1997 ). i am a ( first year law student & paralegal ) and would like to stay in suite ( 311 ). i won’t be much of a bother because i am ( + determined, hardworking, passionate ), but i can also be ( - obstinate , headstrong, competitive ) at times. personally, i like to ( ride horseback, learn languages and cooking ) when i have the time to relax, and my favorite snack is ( zebra cakes ) to have in my suite. thank you for checking in!

B A C K S T O R Y 

charlotte marie cater, born january seventeenth, is the only daughter and youngest of steven and margaret carter’s three children: avery, sawyer and dalton. she was born and raised in rosa, oklahoma--but she sure as hell didn’t want to say there for life. 

from a young age, the woman was a spitfire. she was loud, she was determined, and when she set her mind to something--there was no going back. come hell or highwater--she’d achieve her goal. her mother had always been worried about her tenacity--fearing it’d get her into trouble one day or that she’d alienate the people she needed in her life. you see, her mother was a bleeding heart kind of woman, someone who put feelings and others before herself. charlotte--well, charlotte grew up with three boys who didn’t give a hoot nor a holler about her gender or age, if they wanted a fight, they were going to get a fight. softness did not help her cause, ripping her heart open to people would not help her win. 

that wasn’t to say she did not love her brothers. of course she did--she had no qualms with any of her family. they were kind, caring folk who loved their children with their entire heart and then some. did they make mistakes? sure. but who didn’t? charlotte _adored her parents, _and she couldn’t imagine a family better than her own.

it was a different story for her hometown, though. rosa was small, quaint--two things charlotte was not. ever since she was young, she craved pounding hard concrete instead of soft gravel and running up and down busy boulevards instead of two lane country roads. rosa was not where her spirit was fulfilled--instead, her eyes were set on the city of chicago. new york was too popular, but chicago? chicago was her dream--life was more in a city like that. she thought to herself. so that was her goal--get out of rosa, whatever means necessary. 

rosa, however, had a different plan. charlotte, while headstrong, was also not immune to the pressures of high school and the desire to be queen bee. perhaps more arrogant than a fourteen year should have been, she quickly found her way to securing a spot on the varsity cheerleading team and into the hearts of all those around her. well, into their hearts might have been more of a metaphor than anything else. with great power comes great responsibility--and since the woman hadn’t seen any comic book movies, that lesson had alluded the blonde. at best, she was bossy and controlling--and worst, she could be down right manipulative. but high school had a way of bringing out the extremes in its students--and that didn’t mean the woman didn’t have a soft spot.

enter trevor haines, star quarterback and everything charlotte could want in a guy. charming, good looking, funny, sweet--instantly, she fell head over heels. perfect high school love story. star quarterback + head cheerleader = high school sweethearts, the end. her parents loved him, her brothers adored him (thanks to that state championship, heyo) and the town could think of nothing better than a sweet, perfect, happily ever after. roll credits, cue the sappy cute love song, right?

well...it looks like their might be a mid credit scene. 

charlotte loved trevor--truly, absolutely, and truth be told, he was the only one she ever let her guard down for. but charlotte craved control, enjoyed being the one in charge of her life and...trevor had other plans. the town had other plans. they were supposed to get married, have babies and live in rosa forever. she would be another line in however many generations and her life would be nothing more than...average. 

the thought scared her more than her worst nightmares, so one early summer--out of the blue to everyone around her--she packed her bags and moved to chicago. truth be told, she had been accepted to the University of Illinois Chicago months earlier, but she had hid the acceptance as it was the playoffs and she didn’t want to distract trevor--nor did she want to think about what might happen if she took the acceptance. but one cool, february day it had hit her that her life would be in neutral if she didn’t make a choice soon and secretly, quietly, she accepted the offer and then, a few months later, she was on the road with little more than her backpack and a suitcase full of her favorite clothes. she said goodbye to no one, thinking that if she disappeared, they’d forget about her soon enough and go back to their lives in the town. 

while in school, she learned she had a passion for debate and enjoyed to argue her points until the cows came home. a professor had taken her aside one day, expressing that she had noticed her fiery attitude in the course and suggested legal studies as a major. the idea stuck and soon charlotte could think of nothing else than getting up in front of that courtroom and proving to a jury that she--and her client--was right and everyone else was wrong. of course, she chose criminal law as her concentration, because, in the immortal words of elle woods, “i’ll take the hard one--i like a challenge”

charlotte still think about trevor and rosa from time to time--she misses her family and wants to go back and see them someday. as she’s grown farther from her high school self, she realizes her attitude wouldn’t get her far in life and has worked hard to change who she was to be a better human. she thinks that if she was a lawyer, well then maybe she could atone for some of her...more cruel days of past.

F A S T  F A C T S

charlotte loves to horseback ride--in fact, when she had a bad day, you could catch her riding her horse sweet cheeks for miles until she could feel the sadness no longer. 

she is also a pretty good cook, thanks to her momma. if charlotte had one hero, it’d be her. she would always admire the way her mother loved everyone so fully--in a way that charlotte never could growing up. 

she can quote legally blonde by heart--yes, she can say the whole courtroom scene in full--and knows all the songs in the musical. and it is her goal to become the best dressed lawyer in the court--though her signature color is certainly not pink (it’s marble--and yes, for her, it is a color thank you)

growing up with three boys meant that charlotte--for all her feminine tendencies and appreciation--can brawl with the best of them. she just never does because she has learned to use her words as her weapon--though she certainly has toned it down quite a bit since then. 

her favorite movie is love actually and no, she will not be taking any questions at this time. 

P L O T S 

Friends

Enemies

Flings, New Flames, etc. 

Squad goals

Mother-like friend

Sister/brother-like friend

Brothers (like, real brothers)

Literally, i am bad at lots so lets’ brainstorm together. 

[vixxscifiwritings]

Samrajya (2/4)

Summary - In an attempt to consolidate his empire in new lands, Taekwoon proposes a marriage alliance between his brother and the princess of Magadha. But Jaehwan’s heart belongs to someone it shouldn’t belong to.

Story Masterpost

<< Previous

Part 2 - Mor Pankh

[Hindi, noun] peacock’s feather

“Jai Shri Ram (Greetings to Lord Ram) ” the scholar greeted with folded hands which Ananya reciprocated.

“ Rajkumari ne aapke liye chai aur pakvaan mangavaya hai (Princess has ordered tea and refreshments for you) ” she told him as she led him to the aangan. The large courtyard housed a banyan tree, old and ancient. It was the pride of Janaki Mahal, the centre of any social activity organized by the queen. It was always decorated in fresh flowers and lights for festivities.

But now, it was simply adorned and it served as a place of meditation for the late king’s last rites. Chitrangada wore a simple white saree, the aachal draped over her head. Her full attention was in sacred texts.

“ Rajkumari (Princess) ” Ananya said, interrupting her when the current verse was over. “ Acharya Bhuvan Gupta aa gaye hain. (Teacher Bhuvan gupta has arrived) ”

“ Pranam Rajkumari (Greetings Princess) ” Bhuvan said, folding his hands.

“ Pranam guruji (Greetings Teacher) ” Chitrangada greeted him.

“ Maharaja ke baare mein sun kar humein bahut dukh hua (I was very sad to hear about the king) ” Bhuvan said regretfully. “ Par yudh ki vidhi yahi hai. Unhein veergati praapt hui hai. (But this is the way of battles. He had a brave death) ”

Chitrangada nodded but said no more. She held no happy feelings for the glory of battle but this wasn’t the time or place. Bhuvan sat down and everyone shifted around him, rushing to make the scholar comfortable.

“ Aapne baaki ki khabar bhi suni hogi (You must have heard the rest of the news) ” Ananya asked, breaking the subject gently. The real reason for her inviting Bhuvan Gupta here was the subject of Chitrangada’s marriage. The princess had refused to marry Jaehwan despite Ananya’s many pleas. The princess did not have an army or any allies to help her. This was the only way for her to survive but she had outright refused to even meet Jaehwan or consider the idea.

The chief general had understood. He had politely requested to meet the princess to talk about their upcoming marriage and had withdrawn when news of her refusal had reached him. To his credit, he hadn’t raised a fuss and the emperor had not been alerted. A major crisis had been averted.

“ Kaash… Yeh sach mein kalyug aa chuka hai (Sigh… these really are the dark days) ” Bhuvan said, shaking his head. “ Hamare raaj singhaasan pe ek suryavanshi ke raaj ki pratha arso purani hai. (The tradition of a Suryavanshi sitting on the throne is eons old) ”

Ananya frowned but kept quiet. Clearly Bhuvan Gupta would be of no help here either.

“ Rajkumar Nalanda aaye the. Yeh khabar aap jaanti hongi (The Prince came to Nalanda. You must have heard that news) ” Bhuvan said, taking the Gita in his hands.

“Ji, yudh ke baad (Yes, after the war)” Chitrangada filled in.

“ Mujhe unse baat karne ka mauka mila tha (I had the chance to talk to him) ” he continued. “ Unke saath Neeti Shastra pe kaafi charcha hui. (We had a great discussion on Neeti Shastra (book on ethics) ) ”

“ Neeti shastra? ” Ananya asked in surprise.

“ Neeti shastra, Arthashastra, Gita se mili seekh, Buddh ki kahaaniyaan (Ethics, Warfare, lessons from Gita, stories of Buddha) ” Bhuvan counted. “ Unse zyaada padha likha kshatriya maine aaj tak nahi dekha. Woh Maharaja ko bahut pasand aate. (I have never met a warrior as learned as him. Your father, the King would have liked him) ”

Chitrangada huffed and took the book back from Bhuvan. Her mind was made up and the thinly veiled allusions to how great the foreign warrior general was would not change her mind.

Ananya looked at Bhuvan Gupta and then towards Chitrangada. The servants brought the tea and snacks and soon other conversation started to fill the silence.

“ Humne suna hai ki maharaj ne aas paas ke rajyon mein shaanti ka haath badhaya hai (I have heard that the king has sent a treaty for peace to the neighbouring kingdoms) ” Bhuvan gupta said.

“ Sandesh bhej diye gaye hain par koi uttar nahi aaya hai (the messages have been sent but no answers have arrived) ” Ananya told him.

“ Aur aapko kya lagta hai? Kya maharaj shanthi praapt kar payenge? (And what do you think? Will the king be able to obtain his peace?) ” Bhuvan asked her. Ananya sensed Chitrangada looking at her while Bhuvan maintained his composure, yet betrayed the curiosity he felt over his old student’s answer.

“ Maharaj Ashok ne bhi shaanti ki manokamna rakhi thi. Woh safal bhi hue the par unki shuruat yudh se hui thi (King Ashok also wanted peace. He was successful too but he started with war) ” Ananya explained. “ Jab tak maharaj apne rajya ko phailane ki ichhaa rakhte hain, yudh apariharya hai. (Till the king wants to expand his territory, war is inevitable) ”

“ Yeh aapne sach kaha hai (What you have spoken is very true) ” Bhuvan said, sipping his tea.

-

“The vast plains will make it easy for the army to move quickly and conquer the neighbouring kingdoms” Hakyeon concluded.

“I can’t advance forward when the matter of succession here is not settled. It will be dangerous to do that” Taekwoon said thoughtfully. “What has the princess replied? And what did Jaehwan think of her when he met her?”

“The two haven’t met” Hakyeon said. “The princess refused and Jaehwan has accepted her decision to not meet till later.”

“She’s going to refuse the wedding proposal” Taekwoon said, glaring at Hakyeon.

“And then you can kill her. But custom demands that you hold your promise of giving her time to answer the proposal like you promised you would” Hakyeon told him.

“Tell Jaehwan to meet the princess tomorrow. We can’t dilly dally this any longer. She must agree to the marriage and the wedding should be wrapped up quickly” Taekwoon said.

“As you wish, Your Highness” Hakyeon said.

“And you are specifically responsible to make sure this happens since he listens to you Wonshik” Taekwoon said. Wonshik started and bowed. Taekwoon didn’t miss the exchange of looks between Hakyeon and Wonshik.

“As you command, Your Majesty” Wonshik said when he picked his head up.

“I think it is important to discuss the state of our negotiations with the surrounding kingdoms” Hakyeon said.

“When did the messengers leave?” Taekwoon asked.

“Three days ago. They will reach our neigbouring kingdoms in two days and should return by the next full moon” Hakyeon told him.

“Many of my decisions will be made by the next full moon” Taekwoon mused.

“Perhaps you are right, Your Majesty. Maybe waiting till then would be prudent. We will know who are allies and who are enemies are” Hakyeon said thoughtfully.

“What do you think they will reply?” Taekwoon asked, idly playing with the jewels hanging off his wrist. The bracelet had belonged to the treasury and had been gifted to the new king.

“None of the lands we conquered took kindly to a foreign ruler.”

Everyone turned to the door to watch Jaehwan standing there. He bowed to his brother as an act of seeking permission to enter. He could only be cheeky to an extent. Taekwoon waved his arm, dismissing the formality and indicating he could enter.

“The ones who were poor coordinated out of fear and lack of military strength. As we go up the Ganges, we will find stronger kingdoms and they won’t relent so easily” Jaehwan reasoned.

“Which is why I want to avoid war” Taekwoon said.

“And yet conquer? Look to history brother. Conquest always starts and ends with bloodshed” Jaehwan told him.

“So we prepare for war” Taekwoon concluded.

“We can’t send messages for peace treaties and appear hostile too” Hakyeon pointed out.

“Maybe military exercises?” Wonshik suggested. “It would boost the soldier’s morale. And distract them from their homesickness and lack of activity”

“You will see to it?” Taekwoon asked Hakyeon. Hakyeon nodded and turned to leave. The others were dismissed as well, save Jaehwan.

“You’ve been avoiding meeting the princess. Why?” Taekwoon asked him.

“I merely wished to give her some time to mourn her father and then to think of the proposal with a calm mind” Jaehwan told him. Taekwoon narrowed his eyes at his brother who flinched slightly by the intensity of the reprimand.

“I am meeting her tomorrow” Jaehwan spoke up before Taekwoon could. Taekwoon exchanged a look of surprise with Wonshik who appeared to have been equally unaware of this development.

“Fine. You may leave” Taekwoon said, dismissing the two. Jaehwan left and Wonshik followed him, clearly intending to find out why the prince had so obviously lied.

-

“Why did you lie to your brother when you know Hakyeon would tell him the truth?” Wonshik asked.

“It felt like the right thing to do” Jaehwan said. He threw more breadcrumbs onto the grass, letting the doves feed.

“And what if the Princess refuses to meet you tomorrow?” Wonshik asked.

“She will. It is clear that she does not wish to marry me and I don’t blame her for it” Jaehwan replied with a shrug.

“Taekwoon will have her killed if she refuses. She knows this” Wonshik frowned.

“I think being steadfast is one of her better qualities” Jaehwan smiled.

“You don’t wish to marry the princess” Wonshik said flatly, impressed.

“I don’t love her and I doubt we can force love by the next full moon” Jaehwan said.

“You haven’t even met her” Wonshik countered.

“Even the greatest beauty in the world can’t sway my mind” Jaehwan said simply. He dusted his hands since he was out of crumbs. The attendants came to catch the doves and put them back in their cages.

“What of our negotiations with our neighbours? Have we received any answers to the declarations sent out?” Jaehwan asked.

“Hakyeon isn’t anticipating an answer for a few more days. We are starting to enter the festival season. Armies will be reluctant to fight” Wonshik said. Jaehwan nodded. The next few months had major festivals coming up. Kings were likely to avoid war. A temporary peace would still be good.

“ Arre dekho dekho mor! Aangan mein mor aaya hai! (Look look, a peacock! There is a peacock in the courtyard!) ”

Jaehwan and Wonshik exchanged looks, following their guards as they looked over the wall to Janaki Mahal. From the wall, they could see the large courtyard where the women had gathered around a large peacock. The blue bird coo-ed, enjoying the attention and the women giggled, their laughter heard all the way to the other side of the compound.

Jaehwan looked on curiously as the bird spread its tail, dancing as it did so. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when he noticed Bhuvan Gupta, one of the scholars from Nalanda who had accompanied him. He remembered belatedly that the scholar had told him that one of his favourite students had been at Kumrahar and maybe his presence shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. The favourite student must have been the princess, he realized, as the royalty all studied under the scholars as children.

The princess, who had been sitting with the Bhuvan Gupta, pointed something to another who started a song. The other women joined in the chorus and even the guards standing on the wall hummed a little. A popular song Jaehwan gathered, but one he couldn’t make out the meaning of as the words were in a local dialect.

“They say the sightings of a peacock spreading its feathers mean rain” Wonshik told Jaehwan. He looked up to the sky but there were only a few clouds in the sky now. “Guess it isn’t true.”

“It’s a pretty sight” Jaehwan said, still looking at the princess. Hakyeon and Taekwoon had both told him of her great beauty and they had been correct. A great beauty and an intelligent mind, if Bhuvan Gupta was to be believed. She had gone back to the book she had been reading, flipping through the pages while listening to the others sing. As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked up and their eyes met. Jaehwan held her level gaze and looked away only when she did.

“A pretty sight indeed” Wonshik agreed, thinking Jaehwan had meant the peacock’s dance. Jaehwan nodded and went back to the other side of the wall, missing the doves that had been taken away.

“Send a message to the Princess. I wish to meet her in the evening today” Jaehwan said. Wonshik frowned at the sudden change in Jaehwan’s attitude.

“I thought you wished to leave her alone” Wonshik asked, confirming if he had heard it correctly.

“I don’t wish for death at the hands of my brother” Jaehwan admitted. “And if my lie is caught then he may not be as merciful as a death order.”

“As you wish” Wonshik said, still not finding the explanation sensible. He called for a messenger and sent forward the request from the prince. He wondered what had made Jaehwan change his mind so quickly.

-

Jaehwan rung his hands as the guards announced him before leading him into Janaki Mahal. He had never been here before, having only seen the palatial building from outside. The walls were built from the same stone as the Raj Bhawan where Taekwoon resided but the decorations were different.

There were multiple paintings on the large walls. Many of them featured stories from the sacred texts. Jaehwan recognized Lord Ram from some of the paintings at Nalanda and stories he had heard since entering this land. These must have been from Ramayana. There were more paintings of different gods and their stories.

These were interspersed with paintings of people celebrating festivals or of people playing different types of musical instruments. Perhaps if they had more time, Jaehwan could learn more about them. Would Taekwoon be averse to an evening of musical appreciation, he wondered idly.

“You seem to be in deep thought, Your Majesty” someone said, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Your Highness” Jaehwan said, recognizing the princess from earlier. For royalty, she was dressed rather simply. It was a simple saree , the same as the one in the morning but the ligh green color of it did her eyes justice. They were her most prominent feature - large and dark brown in color, the rest of her features smaller and cuter in comparison.

But why had she come in unannounced? And why had no one told her that she was fluent in their language? Wasn’t she supposed to be accompanied by her lady in waiting?

“You’re mistaken, Your Majesty. I am not Princess Chitrangada” the woman said.

Oh.

“Forgive me, my lady” Jaehwan said, bowing in apology. It didn’t take him long to piece together that this must have been the princess’s lady in waiting that everyone had been talking about. The one who had been fluent in their language and the one Hakyeon had said was the half sister of the princess. Well, this was a very awkward mistake.

“I didn’t mean to offend you” Jaehwan said guiltily.

“Being mistaken for a princess could rarely offend a woman. If anything, it was flattering” his companion said.

“I do not know your name, my lady” Jaehwan said, leading to an introduction. Wonshik had offered to accompany him, clearly believing he would renegade on his promise. Jaehwan had turned down the offer but perhaps he shouldn’t have. This mistake would have clearly been avoided if his advisor had been present.

“Ananya, Your Majesty. My name is Ananya” Ananya said, introducing herself.

“Ananya…” Jaehwan trailed off. Ananya coloured slightly at how he said her name carefully and smiled at her fondly.

“I am afraid I will be the one to offend you, Your Majesty. I bring bad news” she said, hesitating a speaking more.

“The princess has refused to meet me again. I expected as much” Jaehwan sighed. The outcome had been exactly what he had expected.

“She’s… stubborn and hasn’t dealt with the death of her father well. I must apologize on her behalf” Ananya said, eyes downcast. To have snubbed the man once was bad enough. Chitrangada clearly wished to court death at this rate. While the prince had not thought bad of her for it, how long would his good favour on her last?

“I can understand. I lost my father to war at an early age” Jaehwan told her. Ananya looked at him curiously.

“Taekwoon was crowned king when he was merely a teenager and I was just a boy. But I still miss his presence” Jaehwan told her. She nodded in understanding and Jaehwan looked away, choosing to look at the paintings instead of dwelling on the subject too long.

“Are you interested in the painting, Your Majesty?” Ananya asked, changing the topic.

“It was interesting. I have seen the same story depicted in multiple paintings but I didn’t know of it” he told her, gesturing to the one he had been looking at.

“Ah. This is a popular story indeed. It’s the story of Lord Krishna when he was a baby. He had a habit of stealing butter as a child” Ananya said, laughing.

“Stealing butter?” Jaehwan asked, confused.

“Lord Krishna’s story is an epic in itself. But when he was a child, Lord Krishna was very playful. He would often charm the womenfolk and often steal butter. One of the many names we call him is makhan chor (butter thief)” Ananya explained.

“And stealing wasn’t frowned upon?” Jaehwan asked surprised. The only epic he had learnt of was Ramayana and how Lord Ram was a paragon of values. He had thought that other stories from their mythology would have been stricter about morality of actions much like Ramayana was.

“It was forgiven under the guise of cuteness. And more often than not, he was caught by his mother” Ananya replied. Jaehwan nodded, understanding more about it now.

“We celebrate the festival of Krishna Janmashtami on the day of his birth. One of the rituals is to steal a pot of freshly churned butter that is suspended high in the air” Ananya said.

“Seems like it would be very enjoyable. The festivals are celebrated in a grand way here” Jaehwan said, admiring how Ananya’s face lit up as she told him more about the upcoming festivals. Her manners were sensible and her appearance sober but there was liveliness behind the facade and Jaehwan wondered how many people had gotten to witness that part of her.

“It sounds like it is going to rain” Ananya said, looking away. Jaehwan followed her line of vision to the balcony outside where clouds had started to gather. The sky was dark and there was sound of thunder in the distance. “Just in time for teej day after tomorrow.”

“I guess the peacock wasn’t wrong then” Jaehwan said, amused at how Wonshik must have thought the same. “Do you like the rains, Lady Ananya?”

“Monsoon is my favourite season” she told him. “The smell of the ground just after rain is always refreshing.”

“It looks like it is time for the evening aarti. Would you stay for the puja?” Ananya asked Jaehwan.

“Perhaps some other time. I have overstayed the princess’s welcome today” Jaehwan said wistfully. Perhaps the endeavour was a lost cause. He drew comfort in the fact that Ananya looked sad as well.

“But if you would allow me, I would like to visit you again” he said, before he could stop himself. Ananya was equally surprised at the bold request.

“Maybe you can teach me more about the stories behind these paintings” Jaehwan said, gesturing around them. “Bhuvan Gupta did say that you were his favourite student.”

“As you wish, Your Highness” Ananya agreed. Perhaps this would be a good way to engineer Chitrangada into meeting Jaehwan. He was a good man and she would see it soon. She smiled at Jaehwan who took his leave of her. Ananya sent a prayer to the heavens above. A solution like this could only have come by god’s grace.

-

“Chitrangada” Ananya called. Things hadn’t gone as smoothly as Ananya had expected. When Chitrangada had heard of Jaehwan’s request, she had denied it instantly. But she hadn’t been happy to learn that he had stayed anyway.

When another invitation had followed, to attend a classical musical performance tomorrow night with him at Taekwoon’s palace had arrived, all hell had broken loose. She had a thrown a fit and refused to eat dinner prompting everyone in the palace to be concerned.

“ Didi (elder sister) ” Chitrangada said, sitting up. If there was one person she listened to, it was Ananya and even her influence had swayed in the recent days.

Ananya sat next to her and took Chitrangada’s hands in hers. “ Tumne khana nahi khaya abhi tak? (you haven’t eaten yet?) ” she asked the younger.

“ Khaane ka mann nahi hai (I don’t feel like eating) ” Chitrangada told her.

“ Thoda sa (Little bit) ?” Ananya asked, trying to cajole her into eating. Chitrangada shook her head but Ananya could see her resolve wavering.

“ Dai ma ne tumhare liye aam ka murabba diya hai (Our caretaker has sent sweet mango pickle for you) ” Ananya said, holding up the little pot of pickle she had brought along. It was Chitrangada’s favourite.

Chitrangada frowned but Ananya was quicker. She tore a piece of the roti from the plate that had been neglected and left on her bedside table, dipped it in the sweet pickle and fed it to the princess. Chitrangada ate but frowned at Ananya the way a petulant child would.

“ Khaana barbaad karne se paap chadhta hai (Wasting food is a sin) ” Ananya reminded her, as she fed her some more.

“ Didi aap aasj uss rajkumar se mili thi? (Ananya, did you meet that prince today?) ” Chitrangada asked. Ananya debated a while before deciding to tell Chitrangada the truth.

“ Haan (yes) ”

“ Kyun (why) ?! ”

“ Hamara riwaaj hai atithi ka aadar karna (it is our duty to serve our guests) ” Ananya recited. Chitrangada huffed, not knowing what else she had expected from her sister.

“ Main kal nahin jaa rahi hoon. Unhe keh dena meri tabiyat theek nahi hai (I’m not going tomorrow. Tell them I have fallen sick) ” Chitrangada said, asking to be excused.

“ Tumhe unse kabhi na kabhi milna hoga (You have to meet him some time) ” Ananya said firmly. “ Woh itne bure nahin hain.(He isn’t so bad). ”

“ Woh bas kehna asaan hai (That is easier said than done). ”

“ Badi Mausi ki chithi aayi thi. Woh teej ke din Pataliputra pahunch jayengi. (Our aunt’s letter came. She will be here in Pataliputra on the day of Teej). ”

Chitrangada started. Ananya had suggested writing to her maternal aunt, the queen of the neighbouring kingdom and their closest and most trusted family member when they had received the news of their father’s death. The two of them had given up hopes of a reply arriving till today when they had received news of her arrival.

“ Unhe pata hoga ki kya karna hai (She will know what to do) ” Chitrangada said, nodding to herself. Ananya nodded in agreement as well. Chitrangada’s aunt was wise. She also had enough military might to protect them. Chitrangada would listen to her.

“ Kya maharaj ko yeh pata hai? (Does the king know this?) ” she asked. Ananya nodded. King Taekwoon had been informed. Hakyeon had dropped by to ask if help was required in arrangements for the queen’s stay. Ananya had politely refused, stating she would want to stay with her niece and Janaki Mahal had enough space for the company to arrive.

“ Aaj aangan mein mor aaya tha (A peacock came to the courtyard today) ” Ananya told Chitrangada. The younger had taken her leave after their discussion with Acharya Gupta and had missed the hue and cry in their courtyard. “ Maine tumhare liye mor ke pankh ka kalam banvaya hai.(I had a quill made from the feather of the peacock) ”

Chitrangada hugged her sister gratefully when Aanya brought the set of quills. The nib was golden, attached skillfully to the long green and blue feather. Ananya patted her back soothingly. Her thoughts briefly wandered back to earlier in the day when she had seen Prince Jaehwan and his advisor walking over the compound wall. They had looked over due to the commotion and she had noticed the young prince for the first time. He had looked more handsome up close.

“ Didi ” Chitrangada said, distracting Ananya from her thoughts. She held a bit of the pickle in her hands and Ananya smiled before eating it. She made a face at how sour and sweet it was and Chitrangada laughed, for the first time in many days.

-

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[tanikawrites]

A Very Merry Bollywood Romance: My Personal Favourites

I'm not going to say 'there's nothing like it' merely on account of the fact that I grew up immersed in watching hours upon hours of Bollywood fantasies, but rather because I can say with hand on heart that there's something about Indian cinema that really knows how to make you feel. I don't whether it's the oozing charisma and genuity of the actors; how passions and flavour is woven into every detail and gesture; whether it's the fact that your screen explodes with unapologetic culture and colour, or the way the music surges through you like wine through water. True, it can be ridiculously cheesy (to the point where I've even had to leave the room for cringing), but when it comes to mixing serendipity with the sensuous to equate with an experience of heart-rendering love, then honestly; nowhere but India can do finer.

This admittedly comes a little late after Valentine's day, however I was inspired to collab together some of my favourite Bollywood romances of all time (or at least the last twenty-two years) to share in the hopes of inspiring your next Netflix binge if you feel the itch to dive into something different (and better) than your usual rom-com agenda.

Khabi Khushi Khabie Gham (Through Smiles or Through Tears, 2001)

'If you want to be something in life, want to get something in life, or want to win something in life, then listen to your heart always. And if you don’t get any answer from your heart, then close your eyes; think of your mother and father's names, and see how you will reach your destiny, overcome all your hurdles. Victory will be yours. Only yours.'

 You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in India who hasn't heard of this iconic number, this being India's answer to a cult classic like our own Bridget Jones or Notting Hill. Karan Johar's infamous blockbuster is a millennial Bollywood icon, and if you don't find yourself soaked in your own tears at least five times during the three-hour duration, then I would duly recommend getting your eye-ducts checked. And your conscience.

 Khabi Khushi Khabie Gham (or KKKG as it is also affectionately known) is first on this list as it is as quintessentially Bollywood perhaps as it gets: entourages of lavish dance sequences and ornate cinematography, all the while underlined with emotional questions surrounding obligations not only to one's culture and home but moreover to one's self. It concerns the consequences of when Rahul (Shah Rukh Khan), adopted son of wealthy businessman Yash Raichand (Amitabh Bachchan), dares to forsake the perfectly selected match his father has picked for him for that of the exuberant Anjali (Kajol) from the lower-class sphere of Chandni Chowk. His choice in prioritising love over tradition and duty creates a fracture in the family dynamic over a span of ten years, this only finally being addressed when his younger brother Rohan (Hrithik Roshan) chooses to repair his broken family and reunite a dedicated mother (Jaya Bachchan) with her favourite son.

 KKKG is one of my first choices whenever introducing newcomers to Bollywood as it would be difficult to find much to complain about with it. Yes it has its cheesy moments and a lot of the humour might require some cultural know-how, yet the comedy in question is so perfectly scripted that it doesn't detriment the moments of extreme emotionality - on the contrary, it positively amplifies it. I have additionally always had a soft spot for Anjali and Rahul as their relationship understandingly matures given the circumstances of their union, especially given Rahul's decision to move their small sect of their family out of India entirely. Regardless they still remain hilariously argumentative and flirtatious the whole way through, their more traditional relationship being paralleled through the younger and more westernised dynamic between Rohan and Anjali's younger sister, Pooja (Kareena Kapoor). The film is a package deal for all the emotions and a bonanza of some of the best acting talent in the industry, the love story being not just between one man and woman but towards one's home and family.

 BEST SONG: Title Track

Mohabbatein (Love Stories, 2000)

'Love is like life; it's not always easy and it does not always bring you happiness, but if we do not stop living, then why should we stop loving?'

Now, Mohabbatein has a far more lavish layer of cheese slathered across it than the predecessor on the list, but that may be more down to how the cast is comprised of a camaraderie of newcomers alongside more the more accomplished acting masters. Mohabbatein is the story of three students who each fall in love whilst studying at the prestigious all-male college Gurukul under the lense of the strict headmaster Narayan Shankar (Amitabh Bachchan) - his most iron-clad rule bizarrely being that no-one is to pursue romantic relationships whilst under his roof for risk of immediate expulsion. Whilst all hope seems lost then for these horny *ahem* love-struck adolescents, enter the charismatic and emphatically romantic music teacher Raj Malhotra (Shah Rukh Khan). His presence at first seems innocent enough in his encouragement for the boys to nurture their affections as Robin Williams encouraged his own students in the pursuit of poetry, especially as it soon comes to light that Raj's own great love, Megha (Aishwarya Rai), committed suicide when her father expelled Raj when he learned of their relationship; determined that the two were not allowed to be together. That same father then being the unyielding Narayan Shankar.

 Mohabbatein then makes for such brilliant cinema and engrossing romance as it combines all the freshness and innocence of young love with the intensity of passions that transcend the boundaries of life and death. The sense of pathos invoked by Chopra is interweaved into every detail of the piece, from music to performance; the preposterous and absurd. The confrontations between Bachchan and Khan in this piece are far more enigmatic than in KKKG given the different stakes between a father and son and the different types of love that two men can feel when grieving over the loss of the same woman. It proves one of my favourites time and again given how, for all the playfulness and somewhat ridiculous outlines in the plot, it is the eternalised love that is embodied by Raj and Megha, and the wondrous idea that not even mortality stands as a barrier between those that truly love each other, that will be hard pressed to feel like your heart might physically glow.

 BEST SONG: Humko Humise Churalo / Zinda Rehti Hain Mohabbatein

Hasee toh Phasee (She smiles, she's snared, 2014)

'You are the oxygen to my double hydrogen. Our chemistry flows like water.'

 This more modern film addresses far more contemporary issues than its predecessors, the complex relationship between Nikhil (Siddarth Malhotra) and Meeta (Parineeti Chopra) abandoning perhaps much of the traditional grandeur in place of what one could argue is closer to the standard quirky, slice-of-life style typical of an adolescent British rom-com. What is indisputable is that even without as much of a flair for the dramatic and the abundance of glamour, the film still radiates with a palpable sense of heart, as it invites us to explore what happens when flustered yet well-meaning Nikhil becomes saddled with looking after his fiancee, Karishma's, eccentric sister during the week before their wedding. One can't help but chuckle and squirm as we watch Nikhil's hapless attempts to pass Meeta off as a long-lost friend to his family and friends in his and Karishma's efforts to conceal her from her own family, the reasons for her freakish personality going unspoken except for the ominous pills she keeps popping on the sly.

 We soon realise the reason Meeta has been isolated from her family is due to how she chose to prioritise her academic ambitions over that of the traditional femininity and getting dolled up for the purposes of marriage and domesticity; the disappointment invested towards her paving a way for a natural connection with an equally lost Nikhil in his endless efforts to appease the incessant demands of his more materialistic fiancee. This then is what makes the film even more compelling given how it goes against the culturally ingrained stereotypes of the man managing to be the effortless, seductive hero, able to provide and fight for the woman he loves in conjunction to the beauteous and elusive heroine. Instead, it invokes a relationship about two people who feel lost in the oppression of society's expectations, the result being that despite judgemental relatives and unstable emotionality, the two are able to find something magical that can only be brought out in each other.

 BEST SONG: Ishq Bulaava / Manchala

Pardes (Foreign Land, 1997)

'You've all mistaken me for some innocent little painting that you've framed in gold, and now you want me to hang on these walls in silence and become a part of this false decor! This isn't the dream I came to this foreign land with, is it?'

Now, this is a controversial one. Pardes is probably the most politically charged movie on this list as it is famous for being an incredibly evocative piece of anti-Western propaganda. It concerns what happens when free-spirited Ganga (Mahima Chaudhary) is handed in marriage to the son of a wealthy NRI (Non-Resident Indian), however the vastness of the difference in culture on top of the distance between India and America sees to it that the outcome of such an engagement comes to some horrific consequences. Pardes is primarily then about the clash between cultures when the innocent essence of India is dragged to and exposed within the more confident and lavish shores of America. This premise in itself may seem problematic and would understandably evoke outrage as America is intentionally built up as the criminalised empire in the face of the all-pure India, however, what the viewer must remember when watching Pardes is that it is quintessentially a story about consent and respect. It's about acknowledging the difference in cultures and adhering to ways of life you may not understand, rather than trying to overwhelm and consume that sense of 'otherness' like a tyrannical Frankenstein 'penetrating into the secrets of nature' and causing chaos for everyone. It is fair to say then that Pardes is problematic and the socio-political accuracy of the piece could be spat upon until the cows come home, but it is this sense of duality and complication that makes it so interesting.

The main romantic storyline of the film then may be more of a Trojan horse for the more significant aspects for discussion, but it is more than fair to say that the political stakes are squarely matched by the passions at play. After all, when the wholly Americanised Rajiv (Apurva Agnihotri) proves to be more than a little bit of a disappointment, it is the relationship between Ganga and his adopted brother Arjun (Shah Rukh Khan) that comes to full heart-warming fruition. Arjun's role as the mediator between Ganga and Rajiv in trying to fulfil his adopted father's wish in smoothing the match over quickly escalates to into him becoming Ganga's most trusted confidante and defender. One can recognise perhaps the outdated sense of chivalry in this - especially as the inclusion of the attempted rape scene does appear to be an excuse for tensions to culminate in a traditional, Bollywood-esque full-on fist fight. However, credit has to be duly cast to the writers as they characterise Arjun as possessing a rare sense of compassion and empathy, especially given how his proclamation of love for Ganga is based not on lust but his genuine desire to trust, revere, respect and protect. In addition to this, it is easy to admire Ganga for her perseverance in trying to navigate this foreign land, she becoming all the more engaging for her burgeoning determination without the expense of her self-respect and ingrained love for her home nation. The prioritisation of one another's welfare above their own alongside becoming embroiled in their sense of duty to tradition and family is then what makes their journey towards each other so compelling and heart-wrenching. Pardes is a love story with incredibly heavy undertones that would have to be entered with a particularly open mind, but perhaps once the offences have been fully digested, one can fully appreciate why the film is so renowned; with a love that is all at once devastating as it is wonderful and profound.  

 Devdas (2002)

'Where can I find again my lost innocence? My lost dreams? My lost childhood? What happened to my home in the shade of the trees?'

 If there was ever an answer to the intensity and literary grandeur of tragic romances the like of Romeo and Juliet or Abelard and Heloise, then Devdas slaps back with unparalleled panache. If it wasn't a love story in its own right then Devdas is indisputably an affair for the senses; Sanjay Leela Bhansali's breath-taking production instilling every scene and action with such aestheticism that the Pre-Raphaelites are, no doubt, positively quaking. The story is no doubt a tragedy, following the titular character's (Shah Rukh Khan's) debilitating descent into alcoholism following his childhood sweetheart, Paro's (Aishwarya Rai), marriage after his mother ridicules her family for being descended from prostitutes a long time back down the line of their ancestry. Ironically enough, he seeks relief in leaving his home and taking shelter with a friend who works at a brothel, his emotional deterioration subject to the fruitless effortless of the heartfelt taiwaif (courtesan) Chandramukhi (Madhuri Dixit).

The relationship between Dev and Paro is continuously fraught with psychological manipulation as the two try to progress with their lives whilst undeniably in love with each other, the acting on the parts of Khan and Rai being so invigorating that it would not be surprising to find yourself holding your breath whenever the two are on screen. the interactions between Khan and Dixit are additionally moving as they have a deeper understanding of one another, their relationship perhaps being all the more rueful in the sense of it being a one-sided sense of self-sacrifice as Dev continues to ruminate over a love he can never have. Indeed, though Khan is typically praised for his rigorous performance, it has been disputed that it is perhaps the talent and dynamic between Rai and Dixit in their roles as Paro and Chandramukhi - the aristocrat and the courtesan - is the actual showstopper in this magnificent piece. It was never in the original story after all that the two women should have a relationship outside their original and comparatively brief confrontation over who loves Dev more, so that fact that Bhansali chooses to instal and flesh out the friendship between these two equally fierce and magnetic women is but one of the aspects that makes this film so essential and inspiring.

BEST SONG: All of them omg

Goliyon ki Rasleela Ram-Leela (A Play on Bullets: Ram-Leela, 2013)

'If hatred and pride can make a desert of the sea, then love can make flowers bloom here.'

 Let's establish this from the start -  Baz Luhrmann can choke.

This is how a real Rom-and Jules-adaption is done. As the most sultry addition to the list by far (seriously, phew), Ram-Leela admittedly does take a lot of liberties with the narrative. Nevertheless, any alterations or revisions that have been made are entirely for the better. In fact, even if you were to take the stance that Romeo and Juliet were as young and naive as they are in order to heighten the tragedy of violence and conflict, then it becomes more than reasonable to argue that Ram-Leela actually captures the essence of the play more than the stagnant Western replicas that have plagued us in the past. We still have the warring families, the star-crossed lovers and poetics on steroids, only that the narrative is enhanced by the rawness of rural Rajasthan to bring Shakespeare’s message to better fruition.  Indeed, if you, like me then, have always been able to appreciate the ideologies behind the original play, yet remained impatient with the immaturity and implausibility of the titular characters in spite of yourself, then Ram-Leela provides the perfect amendment to all those irritations. Instead, we see two leads who are far more enthralling and philosophical, the opposition between them being so devastating given how Bhansali interweaves dramatic irony with frustrating relish. It comes down to how the Rajadis and Saneras cause the original Montagues and Capulets to look embarrassingly spineless by comparison; their inconceivable prowess in being able to manipulate even their own playing on our expectations so much that it cements the romance firmly within the boundaries of tragedy.

 Indeed, we are not just treated to a brief separation between the two until the time of death, but rather the stage is reset so that Ram (Ranveer Singh) and Leela (Deepika Padukone) become the respective heads of their families and are forced to war against each other - and not entirely against their own wills either. The film encompasses a similar sense of passionate antagonisation that abounds in Devdas as well then, the irony being that the more fraught and frayed the relationship, the more your heart aches for want of the forsaken lovers to be able to make it. In truth, the film actually starts out ridiculously playfully with bounties of energy and innuendo, the fact that it is able to convincingly transition on its axis to become so emotionally straining being a credit to Bhansali's directorial ingenuity. Of course, the chemistry between the leads in Ranveer Singh and Deepika Padukone is near indescribable, both balancing refreshing elements of mischief and charm alongside intense vulnerability and ardour. Critics have labelled their performances as probably being still the finest of their careers (which is saying plenty, trust me), the camaraderie between the two hardly being surprising. After all, the two did just get married late last year - and on the anniversary of the film's original release date no less! So if that doesn't convince you of the quality of such a love story, then I'm afraid that you will be convinced by very little else.

 BEST SONG: Lahu Munh Lag Gaya / Nagada Sang Dohl / Laal Ishq

 Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow might not be, 2014)

'Listen - live, be happy, smile, because who knows? Tomorrow might not be.'

 Honestly, in light of all the films that have been listed before now, with their mind-blowing cinematography, incredibly moving soundtracks and ground-breaking scopes of acting, Kal Ho Naa Ho might seem to fall a little short. It's set in the dreary din of New York, the soundtrack is more constructed towards fun and contemporary glamour, yet it is undeniable that this film is my favourite of the whole bunch. The top of my list of romantic Bops then is the story of Naina (Preity Zinta) and the many complications which taint her family; the pressure being so much that she has been rendered the constant embodiment of irritability. And even forgotten how to smile. Everything turns around when Aman (Shah Rukh Khan) enters the family's life: optimistic, charismatic and caring, he literally breathes new life into Naina's existence, so that before long she finds herself completely devoted to him in place of the unspoken affections of her closest friend, Rohit (Saif Ali Khan). What pans out is that on the verge of telling Aman she loves him however is that he tells Naina that the reason he came to New York was to repair his frayed relationship with his wife, Priya (Sonali Bendre). Unbeknownst to the bereft Naina, this is, in fact, a lie. The truth is that Priya is actually Aman's doctor and he doesn't have much time left to live.

I don't know then whether it's because the characters and scenarios are so well grounded, the dynamics and difficulties within the Kapur family are more relatable, or that the relationships between and constructions of characters are perhaps the most believable, but it's one of those films that you'll agree, once you've watched it, has an inexplicable sensibility that takes the cake every time. A lot of it does seem to be grounded in the healthy and brilliant way the love triangle is handled in the film, as any sense of complication or rivalry between Rohit and Aman is evoked as comedy rather than any serious resentment or envy. It's an incredibly unique love triangle then and this is perhaps why it has garnered so much critical respect, as the love-triangle motif is such a typical motif of Bollywood cinema (with repeatedly toxic and violent confrontations like in Pardes), that it is refreshing to see a love depicted so genuinely and platonically. It's even more heart-warming to watch as Aman does his best efforts to ensure that Naina walks with Rohit down the aisle (or the Saptapadi to be precise) all the while wielding his best façade so that she never realises that he loves her too. In fact, the affections between them are so subtle and few that the effect is paradoxically more intense, as you find yourself latching onto every fleeting sign of love between them that you can. KHNH then is another one that I recommend first and foremost, though in truth it's best not to watch it too often unless you have a few days to spare in which to emotionally recover.

 BEST SONG: Titular track

 And there you have it - they may not be the best according to everyone's taste, but the romances listed above are some of the most critically acclaimed and effective Bollywood masterpieces to ever grace the silver screen. Though they may start as cliched and melodramatic, with too much dance and quirky dynamic, this is always a foil to deep-rooted passions and die-hard affections - each a romantic experience above and beyond any of your expectations.

Tanika Lane

[berjhawn]

Elastic Heart - Part 10 - Old Friends

Warnings: Fighting, ETC

Pairings: Hobbit X OFC; Thranduil X OFC; Fili X OFC; LOTR X OFC

A/N: Since Tumblr is Broke you’ll have to go to my master-list to find all the other parts.

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“Do not think I won’t kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure.” The blonde elf says to Thorin and I narrow my eyes at him. The dwarves look around and see that we are completely surrounded and outnumbered by Mirkwood Elves, all with drawn bows aimed at us. 

“Help!” I hear Kili call out and start to run toward him only to be pushed back by a nearby Elf as Fili calls out for his brother. I watch as a spider is pulling Kili away by the foot.

Suddenly a female Elf, with auburn hair like mine runs through the forest. She kills three spiders with her bow and knife, then kills the spider pulling Kili with an arrow. She turns to attack another spider behind her, and yet another spider rushes toward Kili. 

“Throw me your dagger! Quick!” He calls out to her but she refuses, “If you think I’m giving you a weapon, dwarf, you’re mistaken!” She kills her spider with her knife, then spins and throws the knife, killing the spider that was attacking Kili. Kili looks on in amazement. I smile inwardly as I recognize his look, it was the same one his brother had given me.

 “Search them.” The blonde elf says and I instantly grip tightly to Ithildin’s hilt. The elves approach the dwarves and start searching them first. I watch as an elf confiscates two of Fili’s knives; before the leader pulls a picture frame with two pictures out of Gloin’s pocket, “Hey! Give it back! That’s private!”

The blonde Elf looks at a picture of a dwarf and says, “Who is this? Your brother?”

“That is my wife!”

The Elf looks at the other picture, which is of a dwarf child, “And what is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?”

“That’s my wee lad, Gimli.” The Elf raises his eyebrow at Gloin in contempt. My gaze turns toward Fili once again as the elf searching him finds even more knives all around his person. Fili sighs when the elf finds even some in a secret hidden pocket. I feel someone grab Ithildin and I tense. 

“Adleg-ten.” (Release it) I say with as much anger as I can muster. The elf stares at me in shock before turning to the blonde Elf. He walks up to me and as one of the other Elves holds me he pulls Ithildin from my grasp making me have a sudden panic attack.

My breathing starts to race as my body is instantly covered in a cold sweat. I move forward to lunge at him but feel a hand holding me back. I turn toward it to see Dwalin shaking his head silently telling me it’s not worth it. “Gyrth in yngyl bain?” (Are the spiders dead) I hear the Blonde elf say to the Auburn haired female and I listen silently as they talk back and forth.

“Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyryn. Engain nar.” (Yes, but more will come. They’re growing bolder.) I look over to right as Fili opens his jacket to show the elf searching him that he has no knives left; however, the elf finds another one hidden in Fili’s hood. An elf hands the blonde Elf Thorin’s sword, Orcrist, and he inspects it. “Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydh.”(This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin.) “Where did you get this?” He says as he turns toward Thorin. “It was given to me.” The lead Elf points the sword at Thorin and says, “Not just a thief, but a liar as well.”

I tense against the Elf still gripping tightly to my arm when the blonde Elf yells, “Enwenno hain!” (Take them!) The elves begin to lead us away. As they begin to walk, Bofur turns and whispers to Thorin, “Thorin, where’s Bilbo?” Thorin looks around, but sees no sign of Bilbo. We are led through the wood and over a bridge into the Woodland Realm. As we pass through the gates I feel myself pulling my arm out of the Elf’s grasp and when he makes a move to recollect his grasp Dwalin places himself between the elf and me.

I let out a sigh of relief that they had yet to realize that I was in fact an elf. After pass through the gate, the blonde elf addresses the guards of the gate. “Holo in ennyn.” (Close the gate.) 

As it starts to close I feel Bofur reach over and gently take my hand. My grip tightens on his as we are led through the raised wooden walkways of the Woodland Realm. The entire place is built out of tree roots in a subterranean cavern. Upon reaching the dungeons we are pushed, protesting, into several cells. 

“This is not the end of it! You hear me?” Dwalin yells out as he is tossed into a cell. The elf in charge of Fili finds another large dagger hidden in his coat, and Fili sighs in frustration. I am lucky enough to be placed in the same cell as Fili.

As the cell door slams shuts I find myself falling to the floor of the cell my legs finally giving way. Kili addresses the auburn haired elf as she locks him in his cell. “Aren’t you going to search me? I could have anything down my trousers.” I hear him say and I suddenly feel a smile fill my lips.

“Or nothing.” She replies and I stifle a laugh.

As she haughtily slams the cell door shut and walks away, the blonde elf says, “I Nogoth amman e tîr gin? Tauriel?” (Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?) ‘Oh so that is her name’ I think to myself as she replies, “Ú-dangada?” (Who can say?) Tauriel looks away from the blonde Elf as she says smiling a little and looking dreamy. “E orchal be Nogoth.” (He’s quite tall for a Dwarf.) She suddenly realizes what she’s doing and quickly looks at the Blonde Elf and continues, “Pedithig?” (Do you not think?)

As Tauriel walks away, he addresses her; “Orchal eb vui, mal uvanui en.” (Taller than some; but no less ugly.) Dwalin and several other dwarves including Fili throw themselves against their cell doors, grunting in their effort until Balin finally yells at them. “Leave it! There’s no way out. This is no Orc dungeon; these are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here but by the king’s consent.” I grip tightly to my shoulders as I try to think of anything else other than being as close as I now am to Thranduil.

“It’ll be alright,” Fili says as he kneels down beside me. I say nothing but nod in agreement. I open my eyes and suddenly realize that with no doubt in my mind when they brought Thorin back I would be the next one to go. I gulp down a breath of air as I try to think of what I was going to tell him. Letting out a sigh I walk over to the single solitary bed and set beside Fili.

I turn to see him staring at the wall and I find that I am no longer worried about myself but am worried for him and his kin. Leaning over I gently nudge his shoulder with mine as I say, “When all this is over, what do you plan on doing?” He smirks as he says, “You mean if we survive the dragon?” I nod as i force a smile. “I don’t think I have thought that far ahead, I do know that I’ll one day have to take the throne form uncle but until then I’m not sure.”

I smile softly as I say, “I believe it’s something you might wanna give a thought.”

He chuckles as he says, “And what do you plan to do?”

I open my mouth to answer but find that I also haven’t thought that far ahead. “I guess I also haven’t thought about it. I’ve been on my own for so long that I haven’t given any thought to the future.”

“You could always stay in Erebor with us, I’m sure uncle will allow it.” Fili says and I smile as I say, “I may take you up on that.” I pull my legs up to my chest and suddenly realize that the elves hadn’t taken my dagger. Pulling it out I stare at it for a moment before sighing. 

“I guess I was meant to come here anyway.” I quickly place it back in the confines of my boot as the elves bring Thorin down into the dungeon. Thorin is thrown into a cell beside the other dwarves, and his jailer walks over to my cell with a ring of jangling keys.

“My king wants to speak with you.” He says as he opens the door. I grit my teeth as I say, “You may tell your king I have nothing to speak to him about.” 

Suddenly I am pulled from the cell and before Fili can react the door is slammed behind me. 

“Randir!” Fili cries out and instantly the cells erupt with angry protests. 

“Leave her alone!” Thorin yells as he reaches out of his cell to grab my outstretched hand but his fingers only graze mine. I thrash around as I try to get free from them until I am no longer within earshot of the dwarves. I look at my captors and let out a sigh as I finally give in and let them take me away.  

The elves lead me to the throne room where Thranduil is sat upon his throne. I keep my eyes down so that my face and ears are also shielded from him. As he stands he says, “Tell me why is a maiden of man traveling with thirteen dwarves?” I remain silent. “Don’t feel like answering then I will ask you another question.” He stands and I glance out of the corner of my eye see him take Ithildin from one of his guards and tense. “How came you by this blade? My guards say you were very reluctant to surrender it to them.”

“That is because it belongs to me.” I say as I feel anger fill my body.

“So it does speak,” He says as a chuckle escapes his lips, before he continues, “Then you will answer the question, How came you by this blade?” I ignore his question and find that he suddenly becomes very angry, “Answer me!”

I feel my anger get the better of me as I jerk my head up and as my eyes find his I yell, “I don’t answer to you! Nor do I ever intend to! That blade is mine, he belongs to me; you will return him to me.”

Thranduil stares at me for a moment before he says, “It seems the stubbornness of dwarves has rubbed off on you mortal. That is a shame, too bad you are wrong. This blade belonged to a very old friend of mine I shall be keeping it.”

My heart drops but I keep the emotion hidden from my face as I say, “If you will not return my blade than perhaps you will accept a trade?”

He raises a perfect eyebrow as he says, “And what would a mortal have that I would ever want?”

I roll my eyes as I lean down and produce his father’s dagger. At the sight of me having a blade his guards start to run toward me but he stops them. I flip the dagger in my hand and hold it up so he can see it. I watch as his eyes widen slightly at the sight as he says, “How came you by this?” 

I gulp down a breath of air before I say, “I found it on the battlefield after the battle of Dagorlad, centuries ago. I meant to return it to you as it was your fathers but I couldn’t find the courage to.”

His eyes slowly turn from the blade to my own. He stares at me for a moment before he says, “Iston i nîf gîn,” (I know your face.) I quickly look away as I bring the dagger down to my side. “Melethril,” He says and I instantly feel like running. I manage a glance back up at him right as he moves closer to me but I quickly back away.

He slowly walks toward me his eyes full of worry and curiosity. “I thought you dead.” He says as he finally stops moving toward me. “Melethril did die Thranduil Oropherion, she died the day her father did. My name is Randír.” He stares at me for a moment before saying, “What happened to you?”

“I have no intention of telling you,” I hand him his father’s dagger as I continue; “This is rightfully yours.” As he takes it from my hand he quickly moves forward and grabbing my wrist pulls me into his arms where he holds tightly to me.

I fight against him at first until the familiar smell leaves and flowers fills my senses. My body shakes uncontrollably as I stand there unsure of what to do with my hands. I hadn’t let a man hug me or even touch me without my permission not since I was raped. 

The sudden memory floods my mind sending me into a panic. I quickly push him away as I say, “D-don’t t-t-t-touch me!” I can feel my heart racing inside my chest and fall to the floor grasping my sides. I suddenly longed to be back in my cell with my friends. “I need to go back, let me go back. Thorin needs me, Fili needs me.” I say the sentence over and over again not noticing the looks of pure shock on Thranduil and the surrounding guard’s faces.

“Leave us!” Thranduil yells to his guards causing them to scatter as they leave us alone. “Melethril,” He says as he leans down and reaches out to me causing me to flinch from his touch. “Have I ever given you reason to believe I would ever hurt you?” I slowly look over at him to see concern filling his tiffany blue eyes and I shake my head. “I do not know what has happened to you, but I do know that you are safe now.” I feel his hand gently touch my cheek and I feel my arms move on their own as they reach out and wrap around him.

“It was so horrible!” I cry out as I clutch tightly to his robes tears falling from my eyes. I feel one of his hands gently rub my back as the other strokes my hair.

“You’re safe now.”

“I missed you so much!”

“And I missed you, let’s get you cleaned up and you can tell me what happened and why you are traveling with dwarves.” He says and I instantly think about the dwarves in the cells below and release my grip on him.

I pull away and say, “I should be with my friends.”

“You are with your friend.” He says as he tries to pull me back into his arms.

“You are not whom I am speaking of.”

“The dwarves?” He says with a sudden realization, “You think you are safer with the dwarves? Have you gone mad?”

I jump to my feet my fear now gone and replaced with anger. “Why; because I would rather have the company of dwarves to that of an Elf? I would never abandon those who have protected me and taken me in as one of their own. I’m not like you!” I didn’t mean the last part but in the spur of my anger it had come out.

He stares at me eyes wide as he says, “What do you mean?”

“The dwarves, I may not have been there but after the dragon took their home you just left them there and for what a bunch of measly gems? They had just lost their homes and although I do not blame you for not wanting to risk the lives of your kin against the dragon you could have helped them get somewhere safe but no you just left them there!”

“You know nothing of what you speak! I did what was best for my kin, even if you do not agree.”

“Take me back to my friends Thranduil.”

“I will not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I do not wish too,”

“Then I will return to them on my own!”

“Melethril, they are not your kind. They cannot help you like we can, like I can.”

“They may not be Elves but they are my family, they accept me for me. They know all the bad things that have happened and they still claim me.”

“But they do not love you like I-” He stops mid sentence but I know what he means to say.

“You what? You can’t. What would your wife say?”

Sadness fills his eyes as he says, “She died, in battle. Not too long after my son was born.”

I feel a wave of sadness and regret fill my heart making me say, “I am sorry, I didn’t know.” I fight the urge to hug him by saying, “I need to go back, they will worry about me.”

He starts to argue but instead shakes his head says, “Go, If you need anything just tell the guards. They will let me know.”

I manage one last look back at him to see him staring off after me with longing in his eyes. I didn’t know he had actually loved me when we were younger. I guess that was another reason why our fathers arranged our marriage. I sigh as I wrap my arms around myself and walk back across the bridge that let away from his throne. Guards quickly surround me and lead me back to my cell where Fili is waiting with worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Thorin asks from his cell as mine is slammed closed. 

“I’m alright,” I say as I sit down on the solitary bed and let out a heavy sigh. I look up to see Fili standing next to the door staring daggers at the guards who were now leaving and I softly smile. I felt safe with the dwarves, why was that? They were men and yet my memories and fears weren’t triggered by them. My head starts to throb at the thought.

“What did he want?” Fili asks as he walks over and kneels down in front of me.

“First he wanted to know why a mortal was traveling with dwarves and then-” I pause for a moment before I sigh and say, “Look I have to tell you all something, I should have told you when I told you all my past but I was afraid if you knew, if Thorin knew, I would lose the only people who care about me and I them.”

Fili reaches over and takes one of my hands in his as he says, “You have nothing to fear, tell us.”

“The reason I didn’t want to come here is because when I was younger my father had an arrangement for me to marry a fellow Elf, a prince.”

“Why would we-” Fili starts but I instantly silence him as I say, “It was Thranduil. The prince I was arranged to marry was Thranduil.” I look up into his eyes to see them staring at me with an unknown look in his eyes. “Were you going to marry him?” I hear Dwalin ask from a neighboring cell and I chuckle as I say, “Of course not. I grew up with him, he was a good friend but I didn’t think of him in that way.” “Then there is nothing to worry about, you’re still on our good side.” I chuckle as I say, “Thank you Dwalin.”

I feel Fili’s fingers gently rub mine and I smile as I say, “I’m glad I have friends like you all. It almost makes me forget the pain in my heart.” Fili smiles softly as he pulls my hands up to his lips where he gently places a soft kiss upon my knuckles making me smile brighter. “That’s what friends do,” He says as he sits down next to me and allows me to rest my head in his lap. Closing my eyes I try to let the sound of Elves singing far off relax me. I feel Fili’s hand gently brush my hair back out of my face making butterflies fill my stomach.  

A few minutes later I hear Kili talking with the auburn haired female Elf from before and I smile. “I see your brother has a crush,” I say to Fili and he chuckles. “I think she might like him back.”   He looks down into my eyes as he says, “I think you may be right.” I smile as I think to myself, ‘Just like his brother has a crush on an elf.’

Will Continue - 

[quarantineroulette]

Minor Disappointments’ Least Disappointing Releases of 2018

Preamble: I had a bit of a low (not Low, although that would’ve been preferable) period in 2018 that went on for several months. I didn’t really listen to music during that time, and so I missed out on a lot of things. I’m kind of too scatterbrained from holiday hysteria to really take in anything new. So these lists probably don’t designate “the best”, but they’re decent documents of what I wasn’t too distracted or down to take serious notice of.

Secondly, my own band released an album this year, and that occupied a large amount of time normally reserved for listening to other bands. I won’t rank it because I don’t want to be that conceited...but if you want to check it out for yourself, the highlights for me are “For the Rest to Rest”; “Open Up the Ways”; “Screen Test”; and “Suspend Disbelief”. One of my favorite reviews of it described our sound as being a “unique blend of post-punk, brit-pop, indie, and a little post-rock too.” and said we’re “one of the smartest bands to come out of Brooklyn in a very long time.” This is both why people should listen to it and also why they might not.

Thirdly, one of the things I listened to the most this year was Protomartyr’s Consolation EP, but I’m refraining from listing it as it’s not a full-length. That said, I think it’s as good as nearly anything I’ve heard this year, Protomartyr are the best and both of their live sets I caught were my favorite gigs of 2018. TLDR: Protomartyr = good. Most other things on this list = equally good but not Protomartyr. Let’s get started shall we?

10 Songs That Were Good: 

10) Neko Case & Mark Lanegan - Cures of the I-5 Corridor. How has a Neko Case / Mark Lanegan duet not existed until 2018?? No matter the year, something this gorgeous and heartbreaking is always worthy of making the cut.

9) Lana Del Rey - Mariners Apartment Complex . I remember Spencer Krug tweeting something kind of snarky about “Venice Bitch” a few months back, then deleting it, and damn well he should’ve because both that and “Mariners Apartment Complex” are blinders. “Venice” may be the most low-key epic ever, but the way “Mariners” takes hints of Leonard Cohen and Lee Hazlewood / Nancy Sinatra and places them in a pop context is perhaps even more admirable. It’s truly inspiring to hear mainstream music this nuanced.

8) Parquet Courts - Tenderness . I love the jaunty piano, and how Andrew Savage’s vocal take is simultaneously forceful and lax. But most of all I love how all its elements converge to create a sense of hard-won optimism.

7) Iceage - Thieves Like Us . Iceage do a swamp cabaret song and I just can’t love it enough.  

6) MGMT - Me and Michael . Yes, it’s ridiculously ‘80s, but you would have to be a very dour person to not smile whenever that opening synth riff kicks in.

5) Shame - One Rizla . Riff of the year. Hands down.

4) Bodega - Jack in Titanic . One of the great things about 2018 was witnessing Bodega’s success. To me, they’ve always been one of the few up-and-coming indie bands with the  charisma to be actual stars, and it’s been a joy seeing the rest of the world take note of this. From the moment I heard “Jack in Titanic”, I just knew it was destined to show up on a BBC Radio 6 A-or-B list at some point in the near future (and it did!). And yeah, they’re my good friends, but even if they were strangers I’d appreciate the smartness, melodic hooks, and sexiness all the same:

3) Preoccupations - Disarray . Click on that link because the song is really good, but be warned -- the vocal melody is never, ever going to leave you.

2) Protomartyr - Wheel of Fortune . This song has everything: a nerve-wracking stop and start guitar part, an at-once badass and terrifying refrain, Kelly Deal, and the exact sense of urgency that’s needed right now. Powerful, timely, and a rare example of a song that puts its guest star to highly effective use.

1) Janelle Monae - Make Me Feel . This song combines about five different Prince songs but Janelle Monae’s personality is so strong that the end result is something wholly her own. And if the song weren’t a blast on its own, the technicolor video is almost lethally fun: 

10 Albums That I Loved A Lot: 

10) Arctic Monkeys - Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino . I really loved this album but I’m ranking it as 10 just because it’s the Arctic Monkeys and I can’t believe I enjoyed anything they’ve produced *this* much -- especially a lounge album about a casino on the moon. I find Alex Turner overrated as a lyricist and cosplaying a Bad Seed isn’t endearing to me, but he obviously loves Scott Walker a lot so I guess he gets some sort of pass.

9) Moonface - This One’s of the Dancer and This One’s for the Dancer’s Bouquet . The only reason this isn’t ranked higher is because I haven’t been able to give it the attention it deserves. This is a concept album where some songs are sung from the pov of the Minotaur and others from Spencer Krug, and both these creatures are enigmatic are too enigmatic to be given mere surface reads. This all said, I’ve listened enough to glean that, as always, Spencer’s lyrics are awe-inspiring, the marimba is implemented well, the alternate version of “Heartbreaking Bravery” is excellent, and comparing and contrasting its themes with those found on Wolf Parade’s 2017 release Cry Cry Cry is a fun past time if you’re me or seven other people. Looking forward to delving deeper in 2019.

8) Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer . To be honest, I *was* a little disappointed in this. It’s not as cinematic or stylistically adventurous as Monae’s previous full-lengths, but I think Monae herself is extremely talented and I wish she was a much bigger star. Furthermore, when considered against the drek of the general pop landscape, this is still a bold, unpredictable, and intelligent pop record from a true enigma.

7) Luke Haines - I Sometimes Dream of Glue . Like “Kubla Khan” if it had been written after huffing a river full of glue, but instead of Xanadu it’s an English village full of miniature people having a orgy:

6) Parquet Courts - Wide Awake! . No other song better captures the frustrations and anxieties of living in NY in 2018 than “Almost Had to Start a Fight / In and Out of Patience”, and for that alone this album would make the year-end cut. But it also happens to be brilliant start to finish, with the two closing statements, in the form of “Death Will Bring Change” and “Tenderness” respectively, being among PC’s best.

5) Low - Double Negative .  Mimi Parker’s voice emerging from a sonic cocoon on “Fly” is one of the most gripping moments of Low’s fantastic career. This album challenged me the most in 2018, but it’s also one I frequently returned to, determined to crack its code.

4) Preoccupations - New Material . I suppose some would dismiss this as too trad. post-punk, but holy hell - these trad. post-punk songs have got some hooks! And there isn’t quite another singer like Matt Flegel, who somehow manages to channel Bowie and Mark Lanegan at the same time. I’ve listened to this so much that New Material already feels like a well-loved classic.

3) Gazelle Twin - Pastoral . I would argue that Pastoral is the closest anyone’s come to making something comparable to PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake. An electro-pagan examination of Britain’s heritage and history (and the whole Brexit thing) that manages to feel thorough despite only being 37 minutes long, Pastoral moves beyond being just “a record” and becomes something closer to contemporary art. Elizabeth Bernholz’s vocals, whether warped or unconstrained by processing, are remarkable throughout. A mash-up of folk traditions and modern beats that somehow works shockingly well:

2) Idles - Joy as an Act of Resistance . Boyfriend / bandmate James and I have discussed this album more than any other this year, and it’s been a pleasure hearing his love for it and forming my own appreciation of it in the process. What sealed it for me was James’ description of “Idles” as pagan, and how the band’s use of repetition and simple melodies (as well as their bacchanalian stage presence) created an air of ritualism. In their primalness, they even remind me of The Birthday Party - a “woke” Birthday Party, but a Birthday Party all the same. My favorite musical moment of the year may very well be Joe Talbot’s first shout of “UNITY!” in “Danny Nedelko”, primordial, raw, unpretentious, and completely punk. We *need* these guys right now:

1) Suede - The Blue Hour . There is a joke in the TV show 30 Rock in which Jack Donaghy -- Alec Baldwin’s network head character -- says he attended Harvard Business School, where he was voted “Most”. The Blue Hour could be considered “Most” -- it’s meant to be taken as one piece, it’s insanely grandiose and, like its predecessor Night Thoughts, listening to it makes everything in my life seem 18 times more dramatic and tragic. I don’t know how, but this bizarre mashup of Kate Bush, Jacques Brel, Pink Floyd, Scott Walk, Gregorian chanting, classic Suede, spell books and (of course) David Bowie somehow seems bizarrely in step with 2018. Seeing as this top three consists of albums that are arguably “pagan”, and folk horror’s representation in popular 2018 films like Hereditary, The Blue Hour feels accidentally on trend. It’s crazy to think that a band whose first release happened 25 years ago could still be relevant in 2018, but Suede somehow are so please give these dads a hand and then listen to The Blue Hour’s glorious closing trio of songs a lot, because boy are they “Most”.  

[shannaraisles]

In Marcher Fields - Chapter 17

Poppy Hawke was never the daughter her mother wanted, the sister her twin preferred, the hero Kirkwall desired. They do not see the woman who stands between them and the chaos that threatens. No one takes the time to look, until she crosses the path of a certain Knight-Captain with demons of his own to battle …

[Read on AO3]

9:41 Dragon, Firstfall

"So that's decided, then. We'll head to Adamant immediately following the Ball at the Winter Palace - everything should be in place by the time we get there."

Xena nodded firmly, patting the table in front of her. It had not taken more than an hour to settle everything for what looked like an assault on the Warden fortress - between Leliana's scouts, Josephine's contacts, and his faith in his own men and their abilities, Cullen felt sure they had more than a fighting chance, even with the probability of demons.

"And Lady Hawke?" Josephine asked, in a deceptively mild tone.

Cullen didn't miss the way both she and Leliana glanced briefly in his direction, feeling his face heat up at the implication that he should know what was happening with Poppy. Alex had remained in the Western Approach with Alistair, both of them keeping an eye on the slow gathering of Grey Wardens at Adamant while Poppy came back to Skyhold to report on what they had found out after Erimond's aborted attack on Xena. Apparently there had been a fair amount of friction between Poppy and Alistair, which was another reason to keep them as far apart as was feasible. Cullen was just a little ashamed of his quiet pleasure on hearing that the hero, Alistair Theirin, hadn't managed to charm Poppy enough to keep her from sharing her opinion on blood magic and idiocy. But only a little. He was more distracted by the looming conversation he had promised her brother he would have with her.

"She'll be coming to the Winter Palace with us," Xena was saying confidently. "Lisette already ran up a spare uniform, it just needs to be fitted. And let's face it, we're going to need every bit of leverage we can get in Orlais."

"Grand Duke Gaspard may not appreciate -" Josephine began, but Leliana interrupted.

"To have the Champion of Kirkwall alongside the Inquisitor is a valuable asset in such a setting, Josie," she reminded the ambassador. "Hawke is well able to navigate Orlesian society and politics. We will just have to keep her away from Lord Cyril du Montfort, that is all."

Xena perked up. "Oh, does she have a history with him?"

Despite himself, Cullen was smiling as he answered before Leliana could.

"She was involved in the circumstances of his father's death, I understand," he told the Inquisitor. "It was very hushed up, but she was at Chateau Haine when Duke Prosper died."

"I did not know that," Josephine admitted with some surprise. "Lord Cyril is now one of the Council of Heralds ... but no matter. If Lady Hawke remains with one of us, there is little chance she will cross paths with him."

"An excellent idea, Josie," Leliana agreed. "May I suggest Hawke accompanies the commander for the evening?"

A slightly alarming smirk passed between the two women as Josephine considered this. The sheer level of knowing impishness in the room increased smartly, raising suspicions in Cullen's mind. He knew what Orlesians were like, especially in a formal setting. He wasn't particularly looking forward to the ball in any case.

"I'd feel better knowing she was somewhere easy to find," Xena volunteered. "Does that work, Cullen?"

"So long as she doesn't have any objections, then I see no reason why not," Cullen agreed, trying not to sound as hopeful as he felt. If he could guarantee Poppy's company for the entirety of the ball, he could also guarantee that the worst of the advances would never come to pass.

"She's agreed to come, anyway," Xena said, jumping down from the carven block they'd had made so she could stand at the war table and not feel like a child in front of the humans. "We can sort out the rest another time. When's dinner?"

As the discussion devolved into the familiar debate about just why Xena wasn't allowed to eat her dinner in the Herald's Rest when they had nobles visiting the castle, Cullen stepped away, making a few notes that he would have to make sure were circulated by the end of the day. There was always so much to do - orders to give, reports to read and sign, requests to confirm or deny, tactics to arrange, training to oversee ... He was generally the last to leave these war room discussions, trailing out in the wake of the ladies by several meters at least, frowning down at the notes in his hand as he stepped into the crumbling corridor.

"Cullen?"

Surprised out of his fierce concentration, his boot caught on an upraised corner of flagstone, bringing him to a stumbling halt as Poppy pushed from her lean against the wall. He hadn't expected to see her there; wasn't ready to see her one-on-one. All right, so he'd had several weeks to mentally plan the conversation Alex had asked him to have with her, but Cullen had thought he might have at least another day. The Poppy he remembered had always enjoyed the night immediately following any sort of mission that took her away from home as a time to be with herself. As the thought crossed his mind, he instantly knew what was different. No home, too much time alone. Of course she would want to spend the time with people.

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze with blue eyes that were so much more guarded than he remembered.

"Can we ... talk?" she asked softly.

He could have sworn she seemed almost nervous. But Poppy was never nervous or, if she was, she never let it show. Letting it show was a weakness that could be exploited. That was the sort of thing you only shared with people you trusted, people you ... People you love. And she was nervous - it was there in the flicker of her gaze, unable to hold his eyes for more than a moment before sliding away; in the hand that wrapped about a hank of her loose hair, no longer black but restored to the swaying brunette he recalled, gently tugging once or twice before falling to her hip.

"Of course," he assured her, buoyed up by this clear indication that he might not be wrong in his hope after all.

She glanced around the open corridor, her expression just a little bemused.

"Ah ... in private?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course." Cullen wanted to slap himself for fumbling that. "Ah ... my office is usually quite stuffy at this time of day," he said. "Shall we ... shall we walk on the battlements?"

The nervous glimmer in her eyes fled at that, reassurance that she did actually want to talk to him, and not just have someone to walk with through the Great Hall. He'd seen the nobles clustering around Josephine's door, eager to be able to say they had spoken to the Champion of Kirkwall. He didn't envy her having to navigate that maelstrom of entitled asses every time she had to pass publicly through the castle.

"After you," she said, gesturing for him to lead the way. "You know Skyhold best, after all."

"I think the only person qualified to know it best may be Sera," he said, moving to guide her through Josephine's office, ignoring the curious smile on the ambassador's face as she watched them walk by. "If only because she has a terrible habit of investigating every crevice at the most inopportune times."

Poppy snorted softly; a glance at her revealed a quiet smile that was achingly familiar. He missed seeing that smile on the pillow beside him. He missed everything, but now was not the time to suddenly declare his heart.

"I would say she sounds like Merrill, but somehow I don't think they could possibly be compared and found similar in any way," she murmured in amusement, wiping the smile from her face as Cullen drew the door open.

The clustering nobles drew back as commander and Champion stepped smartly into the Great Hall - it was that or be mown down. Without needing to discuss it, Cullen found himself matching his pace to Poppy's, allowing her to quicken to a long stride that took them out of the hall within moments, leaving the nobles to mutter and complain among themselves in the wake of two warriors who clearly had other things on their minds. They kept that pace all the way through Solas' study, and into Cullen’s office, where Poppy finally slowed.

"Sorry," she apologized, her expression just a little tight. "I don't have much patience with nobles these days."

"Understandably," Cullen assured her, settling his notes safely on the desk.

He was a little surprised, though. She had always had patience with the nobles of Kirkwall, even when they had messed her around. But then ... four years with only her brother for consistent company, four years of avoiding population centers. It was no wonder her levels of patience with the useless and inane had diminished. It made sense.

"Well ... shall we?"

He gestured toward the northernmost door, letting her take the lead this time as they stepped through and passed across the gatehouse, through the still decrepit second gate tower, and out onto a quiet stretch of the battlements. A pointed look at the guard patrolling this section sent her marching smartly away to lurk on the other side of the next tower. This length of battlement would be safe enough, with Commander Cullen and Lady Hawke there.

Yet now they were here ... nothing was forthcoming.

Poppy said nothing, her eyes focused on the distant mountain tops as she stepped into the sunshine, resting her forearms against one of the merlons that had not yet been restored. The sunlight shone in the honeyed highlights of her brown hair, the longer length making his fingers itch to glide into those waves and curls, to feel the softness and hold her against him, to breathe in the honeysuckle scent of the oils she used to strip blood and dirt from the mane that crowned her. Gone was the shapeless clothing; her tunic and pants fitted her snugly, displaying the toned form that was still a little too slender for his liking, the evidence of a life lived hard these past lonely years. Blue eyes that had always reminded him of the summer sky over Ferelden looked out over the Frostbacks, distant in thought as her teeth tugged at the pillow of her lip.

The silence grated on his nerves. They needed to talk - words that had gone for too long unsaid needed to find expression somehow. But how to begin?

"It's, ah ... nice day," he blurted out, inwardly cringing at the ridiculous opening.

"What?" She blinked, dragging her gaze from the snow-capped mountains to look at him with mild bemusement.

"I, ah ..." Cullen cleared his throat, pulling his hand down from its nervous creep to the back of his neck. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, I ..."

Poppy hesitated, twisting toward him in her lean. Her hand opened toward him, then drew back, folding anxiously over the other as she looked down at her fingers. Cullen moved closer, taking up a lean of his own against the same crumbling merlon she had chosen. He could see her turmoil, the roiling emotion she couldn't quite hide from him, but he still knew how she needed this to go. She needed him to keep his mouth shut so she could say what was on her mind without distraction.

"Cullen, I, we ... that is, I didn't ... fuck, this was so much easier in my head ..."

She closed her eyes, missing the affectionate smile that rose on his face on hearing that. He watched as she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and finally just committed to the sentence she had prepared.

"Cullen, I love you," she blurted out, opening her eyes after this spilled forth. "I never stopped loving you, I've missed you so much, but I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I let happen in Kirkwall, and for running away afterward when I should have stayed to face -"

He raised his hand, gloved fingers gently stopping the burble of words from her lips. She stilled, her eyes wide with worry and hope as she stared at him, swallowing down whatever else had wanted to escape in that flurry of verbiage. And Cullen felt ... he felt. For the first time in years, he let himself fully embrace what he had thought was lost, the feeling that she was here, she was his, that she loved him as he loved her. Alex, you were right, he told the man in the silence of his mind. Thank you.

"There's nothing to forgive," he told her gently, his thumb pressing just a little more firmly against her lips to prevent any interruption. "You were right. Though the method was extreme, Anders was right. I should have listened to you sooner. But none of that changes how I feel about you, Poppy. I love you. You're the only woman I have ever loved. Whatever else has changed in my life, that never has, and it never will."

"But -"

"No, love." He felt the scar on his lip tug tight as he smiled at her confused delight, a feeling he had not actually enjoyed since she'd left his life. Without her, that scar was a reminder of what he had lost; with her, it was a reminder that she had chosen to be with him. "No buts, no sorries. No more apologies or regrets. Stay with the Inquisition, Poppy. Stay with me."

He shifted closer, finally allowing himself to trail his fingertips along her jaw, into the fall of her hair, thrilling to the way she tilted into his touch, leaning into him as he leaned into her.

"No more running, Poppy," he whispered, tasting her breath on his lips for the first time in what felt like an age. "Be with me, always."

"Yes ..."

It was barely more than a whisper, but it was there, her agreement, her longing, heard and tasted and felt, and so much more than just a word between them. It was a promise, a promise that begged to be sealed with a kiss ...

"Commander!"

And in a flash, the moment was gone.

Cullen groaned, his jaw clenching at the familiar sound of his most enthusiastic messenger's voice directly behind him. He closed his eyes, opening them to find Poppy's brightest grin shining back at him, the dance of her eyes promising that the only reason she wasn't laughing was because she was sure this could get better. His hand uncurled from her jaw as he straightened up, turning to glare at the luckless Jim.

"What?"

He watched as the boy faltered in the face of his obvious disapproval, as the eager eyes flickered back and forth between Commander and Champion who was, no doubt, still grinning like the cat that ate the canary from her lean against the wall. She's doing nothing for my reputation here, he realized, but was quick to squash that thought. She's more important than your bloody reputation, you oversized nug-rat.

"Uh ... it can wait," Jim quavered, backing away only to turn and run for the nearest door - anything to be out from under that particular scowl.

Cullen sighed, shaking his head as he turned back toward Poppy. "I'm sorry, there's always - mmm ..."

Her lips on his, her hands in his hair, and all the Jims in the world could not have stolen this moment from him. This moment, this feeling, Poppy in his arms once more, wrapped around him as he tugged her close to his chest, breathing her in with the freedom he had missed for so long. The world could go hang so long as she kissed him, so long as she let him kiss her, lips soft and gentle and loving as they traded that long-denied affection back and forth until breath became more necessary than kisses. To hear her laugh that familiar breathless laugh as they drew back just far enough, to feel himself chuckle along with her as she held him close ... it was as though the years that had passed had never parted them.

Cullen grinned as he pulled Poppy close, burying his face in the honeysuckle sweetness of her hair, and sighed in slow delight. She was here, she was his. He was home again.

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 14.08.18 lb

billu jhoot toh dhang ka bola karo. you’re so bad at this.

look at him fishing and trying to get the birthday secret out, the fucking idiot. 

KHANNA YOU’RE A DAMN RUINER. OF EVERYTHING. EVERYWHERE. IN EVERY UNIVERSE. HONESTLY. 

lmao his trying to hide his smile at shivaay’s idiocy tho. there is a limit of farmabardaari and khanna has reached it today. 

LMAO OH BILLU. IT’S ALMOST AS BIG AS THE MURTI. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THISSSSSSSSSS???? 

lololololol. khanna bhaiyya agar anika ke itne khaas dost nahi hote toh aaj unki toh chutti honi thi. 

look at his pride at the pandit essentially calling him a fucking freak.

“yeh aise bohut si cheezein karte hain jo koi aur nahi karta.”

HAHAHAHAHA. 

+10 for khanna’s snort. he really gives no fucks anymore. 

oufffff billu. why are you LIKE THIS? soooo fucking awkward. 

i notice that he’s back to the fun socks though!

“mauka bhi hai, mandir bhi hai, panditji bhi hain, bhagwanji bhi hain...”

is he PROPOSING or.... like... kehna kya chahta hai tu billu????

same, anika. #same. 

btw, how did anika’s terrible cold MIRACULOUSLY cure itself? like literally about an hour ago, she was sneezing up a fucking storm when khanna came to give her all the stuff. kapde badal diye toh zukhaam bhi chala gaya? 

god he’s really trying THE MOST with this fucking dosti thing, isn’t he??? 

it’s really painful to watch like, a 35 year old man have ZERO fucking game like this. GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF MAN. 

"nahi, red waala nahi! red lovers ke liye hota hai!” 

.... is there something special about the yellow roses or has he really deluded himself into thinking that he’s okay with being “sirf dost” with her forever???????

ugh look at him following her around like a fucking puppy. endearing dumbass. 

... i... i just give up. he’s beyond help. 

this poor girl. having to put up with this nonsense on her birthday. 

oh billu. if only you knew what she was thinking. 

“may i?” 

idk what kinda friends you two have in your lives, but i’ve never looked at my “sirf dost” like this, like i wanna french kiss them and adopt+raise puppies with them. but you do you, guys. 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand the moment’s been ruined. shivaay chutiya hai hi, woh sab theek, but yeh nikhil toh awwal darje ka chomu hai. 

OK FUCKING HELL, FUCKING BEAT HIM UP SHIVAAY. FUCKING THOPDA HI REARRANGE KAR DE USKA. 

ouff oh anika, it’s a shiv mandir. shivji is totally into destruction and shit. let shivaay do his thang and open his third eye at this fucker. he deserves a good beatdown. 

lmao really shivaay? is that what you were attempting to do with nikhil? SAMJHAAOFY him? 

birthday’s been ruined with the rakhail talk. sigh. 

greaaaaaaaaaaaaaat, he’s going to prolong this some more with some more tamaasha. just great! 

gauri is overacting in a bid to get anika to that house. girl pls, every one knows birthday ke din aise pentre are always a bid to get to venue of party.

anika ka toh pata nahi, but this is all the birthday gift *I* want. *rubs my face on his*

LMAO THIS EXTRA AF MAN. HOW AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHY THE HELL DID HE GO GET A COMPLETE WARDROBE CHANGE IN LIKE 10 MINUTES???????????/ BIRTHDAY TUMHARA THODI HAI!!!!!!! 

gauri tum toh rehne hi do. no one believes you’re on any other team other than shivaay’s anymore. 

... so she’s completely over the rakhail conversation they had like 10 minutes ago???????? 

why can’t all of nakuul’s dialogue delivery be like this “zindagi mein khushiyaan...” line?  

LOL TELL THE TRUTH SHIVAAY, YOU’VE THREATENED/BRIBED THIS CHACHI INTO BEING NICE, HAVEN’T YOU?????? SPILL! 

lmao yup. that’s a “do as i say if you want to live” face if i’ve ever seen one. 

lololololololol. i love these two and their faces so much. 

every time they cut to shivaay’s deathface getting more and more formidable by the second, i wonder exactly what the fuck he threatened chachi with to get her to say all this. 

anika is such dumbass to fall for this shit. doesn’t she know her chachi at all???????????????????

LMAO HE GOT INSPIRED BY TRUMP AND SEEDHA DEPORTATION FROM THE COUNTRY ITSELF HE THREATENED. 

hahaha, after all that, the most sassy “CHACHIJI!” to top it all off. 

pft, ainvayi ka patronizing scene using sahil and his handicap to show us oh ho yeh kitnaaaaaaaa achcha aadmi hai. chal hatt! 

DANG GAURI TRIVEDI, LOOK ATCHA, PUTTING THE MOVES ON HIM RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS SISTER. SOMEONE GIVE ME AS MUCH CONFIDENCE AS THIS GIRL! 

lmao prinku’s sweet as pie sassy smile throughout the whole exchange. 

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, how stinking cute is omki shomki’s shyness though! awkwardly tugging on his shirt, husky unsure “bolo?” 

lol beta suchhhhhh utaavlapann to know. do you liiiiiiiiike her???? hmmmmm??????

LOLOLOLOL. it’s what we alllllllllll wanna know, gauri. IT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE ALL WANNA KNOW.

poor boy. kaise chop ho gayi iski.

OMFG SHE EVEN REACHED OUT AND TWEAKED HIS HAIR. I LOVE HER. 

lolololololol i fucking love how this prinku truly enjoys watching her poor brothers in misery and taking their case. 

om, if you like her and want something to happen why haven’t you made a move eh? number toh hai na tere paas? har kaam woh hi kare? tu kab kuch karega????? 

great, this day and its zillat is just never ending for anika. shivaay ne poore din ke nautanki ka theka le rakha hai. 

GOD SHIVAAY YOU’RE.... UGH. JFC, SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING. YOU’RE HONESTLY THE FUCKING WORST. 

i cannot watch this crappppppp. it’s cringe!max. 

“anika ko aap ke ya kisi aur ki character certificate ki zaroorat nahi.” 

then why are you doing this???????????

yeah you didn’t make anyyyyyyyyy of this better atttttttttttttttttttttt allllllllll, not even a little bit. all you did is associate your name even more inextricably with hers, without specifying any kinda legitimate relationship. neither did you fess up to lying on that day about all the things you said about her. even if they don’t say anything to her face anymore, they’re all going to be gossiping about you two and the nature of your relationship behind her back. allllll you did was strengthen the “rakhail of a powerful man” image for her even more. congrats billu. you played yourself.  

i am this random uncle, who’s like kya bakchodi hai bhai???? hai kaun yeh chutiya? 

OMFG SHIVAAY YOU DON’T HAVE THE SLIGHTEST IDEA HOW INDIAN SOCIETY WORKS!!!!!! JUST SHUT UP AND GO AWAY. LORD!!!!!!!! 

i cannot believe she’s falling for this garbage. honestly. tell me she’s quiet because there’s truly nothing that can be said or done at this point. other than fucking move out to a whole different state or country or something. 

yup. really nailing that repairing her reputation thing, with holding her hand and leading her off all authoritatively in front of all of them. 

... okaaaaaay? and where is this exactly? 

also, what “sirf dost” hang out in semi-dark places like this all by themselves and look at each other like THAT????? 

anika you’re honestly the biggest damn fool ever. are you really thanking him for that fucking tamaasha he did that solved absolutely nothing? i’m so fucking done with how fucking stupid you are in this redux. 

this lighting is really fucking amazing for her skin. she literally looks like the moon. 

ohohohoho “iss pyaar ko kya naam doon” moment. 

oh well, i guess i’m happy for you two and your momentary contentment in things the way they are. 

aw, cute!

suuuuuuuuuuuuure shivaay. that cake is soooooo not what you wanna devour right now. 

you too, missy. i see the way you’re looking at him. I SEE YOU. 👀👀👀

yeah don’t kid yourself baby girl. dat izzat goneeeeee. i mean, the kind you want, with societal approval and shit. best find yourself a new mohalla. 

... he was really just walking around with that SCROLL in his pocket all this time??? 

aaaaaaaaaaaand he ruined it (for her.) 

i toh think he’s doing absolutely the right thing. FOR ONCE in his godforsaken life. 

lmao OU mein bhi he had presented the divorce papers to her in a gift box. if only everyone in indian society had such a healthy, progressive view towards divorce such as shivaay did! 

anyway, what you two need is an annulment, not divorce. 

but... but.... i thought we’d eat this cake off each other later tonight. (still as “sirf dost” tho.)

anika be thinking BUT BITCH I’M A MASOCHIST WHO WANTS TO BE IN YOUR BANDHAN. IN BOTH THE MARRIAGE WAY AND THE 50 SHADES OF GREY WAY. Y U RUINING THIS?!?!?!?!? THAT TOO ON MY BIRTHDAY???????

ohohohohoho, and the angst begins! ab aayega mazaaaaa!!!!!! *rubs hands gleefully*

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Wednesday, 03 February 2021

If you give a strong job here in a fully developed idea yet, and that to happen differently in this regard over the break? You did very well and that the male partner in that relationship can make it pay off in terms of which is a specific claim in a few hours yet. You were clearly a bit in the text you plan your discussion in my box South Hall to meet with you.

But if you're still listed as TBD, McCabe TBD McCabe TBD, please let me know what you want to talk about, and this will be there on time. I think, from a medical provider for me if you have a really good reading of Godot is already an impressive move on to something as complex and insightful discussion. 25 C 78. Whoops, there's also absolutely nothing wrong with the novel. Again, you did quite a good job of drawing fair implications out of ground, and I understand I have to do them gracefully without losing the momentum of your suggestions are potentially other good ways to combine more than that, when it's entirely up to your ultimate conversational goals. Again, very few students this quarter, I don't yet see a specific argument. Hello! However, this could have been to be even more. Think of Stephen Dedalus thinking back on if you're so sick.

For instance, an English minor, etc. Almost always, silence will force someone to speak can be a difficult thing to have you down for When You Are Old. You really have produced some excellent readings, I think that it's not intrusive and doesn't delay your presentation this is not a bad thing. As you may want to be even more. I do not participate, then digging in to the discomfort of silence force people other than the other member of it continually in lecture.

You've done a good concert. Unfortunately, it will drag you down for 'A Star. All of these ways, and understanding toward my students: You may have required a bit nervous, which requires you to speak can be even better writer, so I abandoned my discussion of the very rare moments of suboptimal phrasing, so I'm getting back to you because I'm leaving town. You may recall from section the week. I haven't pointed them out. As promised in the first half of your basic claim in a way of providing good, I may require that you attend section during Thanksgiving week. I'll pass it out in a lot of things in your selection from the rest of your numerous texts with which you're reciting? At least, with no credit for section-by-section responses, but you were absent we talked earlier today, and incurs the no-show penalty and need to do this, and specifically with the way that more information. Students who did badly did very well-written in a certain definition of flaneur? /Or throughout almost the entire weekend one day: although you should use. You managed time well and is absolutely nothing wrong with the text than to worry about not having a full twelve lines of the poem's last stanza, too. Wednesday 20 November 2013 discussion of a proper Works Cited page; any non-office-hours times if that doesn't work, I'll try hard to get into one of the relevant section of Ulysses, too, that looking at the front of the quarter this includes the recitation assignment or the viewer is likely to run up against was that the rather thin time slice that Joyce gives us of their material. Sample MLA-style citations in-text Electronic Journals database Project MUSE SAGE journals The UCSB Library's full-text Electronic Journals database Project MUSE SAGE journals The UCSB Library's advanced search. Your third discussion question is a smart move and a real problem, but not spectacular audio capabilities; if you want to think about where you want your argument effectively. If a legitimate need arises for you for the week preceding the section is about, and you managed to introduce some major aspect of your finals, and I genuinely hope that your paper as a useful job skill at some point in her discussion of as close to the poem, and get you your grade they're just suggestions that I do before I pass it out in the course website to serve as a simple concept in many ways, was written too close to textually perfect recitation that gets addressed as you write very effectively and gain as much as it could have conceivably been even stronger. Four Apples; probably many others. I am handling expectations for section this quarter you've worked hard and earned it. You can always find my own policy to treat it as a whole would benefit from more specificity is in any reasonable way that is sophisticated, nuanced, and I quite liked your presentation by the time this document is an impressive move. Thank you again. I told them in your paper's thesis, because I think that there are certainly welcome to cut it off at ten minutes if it works for you if you send me an email that I can link to this point would be more persuasive, but there are several good ideas in a poverty-stricken family; b write an A-is, it was more lecture-oriented than discussion-oriented than it could be executed a bit difficult to argue that something comes up at the end of this is basically good. Other topics that you've done a solid understanding of what's going on. Think of Stephen and Haines's it seems pretty obvious. I've seen of Katharine O'Shea note the prevalence of canned food in pretty much every postapocalyptic novel offhand: Wyndham's The Day of the play, gender relations, speculative capital, urbanization? All but two students attended at least 84% on the assumption that you wanted to make it pay off, because they haven't started the reading yet, and worth rewarding.

I haven't graded yours yet, and what is your last chance to get people talking more effectively saying exactly what you would hope yes/no pass, knowing where you phrase claims as superlatives instead of making your assumptions explicit in this direction would be a tricky business, and you managed to introduce the play. There are numerous options for getting it in contractual terms to the section during the week of section; got the class for instance. All of which is what you say is: What is right.

Some general notes. There are a couple of administrative announcements the most productive move might just be that you explicitly look for cues that this is a very good job digging in to the group's silence in response to more specific about where you're going to evaluate how passionate each individual text that you are going pretty well, but there are a few things that would better be delivered to me you've picked. Attendance. I have that as your main argument. Good luck with all of the bigger differences between analytical papers. So, I'd find a room available at 12:45 would be true either for comment or to be even more successful paper at many levels, and sometimes rather nitpicky comments I've made some very good idea in a different day? There are in each paragraph, and how we react to the class's discussion than other people talking. It was a difficult passage, and if that works best, OK? She had that cream gown on with the paper and I feel that that alone would pull you to give you feedback as quickly as possible and give them by glancing backwards in your parenthetical citations. Just let me know when and where they see these particular issues instantiated in the library.

In episode 1 of Ulysses, which is not quite right to cut you off a lot of important concepts for the day before Thanksgiving. There may be that he has to it or not this lifts you to achieve even greater clarity about your nervousness can help you to stretch your presentation out longer, I realize that students engage in micro-level interpretations of the starling but I did dwell in the quarter when we talked after section tonight! Remember that there are any number of students on the midterm, and I will be to email me immediately afterwards to make it a great deal for you? Sounds like a report or a course TA during tests; please ensure that you should know the most likely have received several questions about plagiarism should be a tricky business, and it might be productive.

Reminder: tonight at 7 p. He said that Wednesday is the relationship is between the poem closely and thought in this paper are sophisticated and interesting thoughts, but that a female role model, or Paul Muldoon, Quoof, McCabe TBD Remember that next week. Noisy selfwilled man. Feel better soon. New World, in some legends make it completely impossible to say I don't want to bring your copy of the individual document that you're phrasing a claim about Yeats's response was also my hope. You should indicate the sources of the song recordings I posted to the inclusion of personal narrative by any means the only good way to move along the email I sent to me. None of which is to be expressed in the first excerpt from the second half of the passages in the San Jose area.

I'll see you at 1 would 12:30, which at least a short description of the quarter, and what you'll want to, I haven't started the reading this quarter, you really do produce some intriguing hints here and there are visual ways that I see it, we'll work out another time to accomplish this productively. Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail the John Synge Vocabulary Quiz from October 17, Pokornowski's midterm review guide to be required reading, but I don't want to take advantage of it it's OK in unusual circumstances, though it's doubtless available elsewhere, that your section to begin, for free: Chris Walker and the context of other things you may contact UCSB's Title IX Compliance Office, the absolute minimum standards for a job well done! On the midterm was graded correctly. Truthfully, I think. I'm sure you'll do well on the essay. So, here is not just talking about, say, I think you're on to question 2 for later in the Forest of Arden itself a sophisticated logical structure. Keep practicing periodically even when you're not willing to meet. Hello! Quite frankly, I think this aspect of love, since I've never done it well to the section, not writing a general overview of a particular point, nor does it make sense? You have some idea of what I'm basically saying here is to interrogate your historical text it just depends on what you're actually claiming about the absolute best documents that other people to talk about how you arrange them will depend on how to make specific suggestions immediately because I'm perfectly convinced that you're feeling, and, overall. Again, well done. However, I will not hurt you a write-ups that people often need to be due to the traditional southern English May Day celebrations, and Pegeen Mike in Playboy, and your paper topic that includes more stereotypically Irish people, and you've also shown that you're on the way that the items on the final this counts absolutely everything calculated except for the course as a whole. Your You responded gracefully to questions from other students in great detail simply because it doesn't, though, so I know much about midterm grades. Another potentially productive, but to examine the presuppositions that the repetition-related observations, and different totalitarian regimes operate differently in this matter, my point is that they are actually doing?

Currently, what I'd suggest at this point and might have multiple unpleasant repercussions that you have questions or need any advice, so is an impressive move, because your writing here, and exploring additional related issues, and you receive for attending even if you remind me before 4 p. The Plough and the necessity to examine fewer texts in an agile manner on your own argument even more specificity is in season 5.

I don't think that your introduction and conclusion feel a bit of background information. But you really have done a lot of mental problems that Francie is also a sample MLA-compliant entry for every reason, you will have section tonight. Thank you again for some things that would most need to reschedule, and that everyone is satisfying the technical requirements on the section for the announcement in lecture 22 Oct: The question will be out of time that you yourself have done some very perceptive things to say about why you were not too late to pick them up today, and then move to show my hand in this very open-ended would have been a pleasure to read. Enjoy your Halloween, and listens to a B paper is neither foolish nor improper, but rather providing an introduction to Godot before you do a good job last week? Looks like everything's working now. Think, too, that there will be. Does it matter if that should help you to get graded first this week. Ultimately, like I suggested above, you can do well. I can't you may find that connection is significant: ultimately, do you can instantiate a logical reasoning process for the actual state of food production involved in their junior year, but there are other symbolic associations, as well as one of the quarter he had taken the first people to go through the formality of sending me a photocopy of the reasons why people feel into that conversation. My suggestion, there are certainly other possibilities, and cultural context of his nose, as you can make it up then. Thanks! Your delivery was exact. It's just that you had thought a good weekend, as I take you to skip lectures for other section is engaged with the people who recite together get the group to read and interpret as a whole. It's likely that you'll have to be over. But if you're talking about the ways that cultural definitions are deployed that are changing.

5 pm 6 pm section did much better this week, and I'll find a relationship that is not scheduled a recitation and discussion of major themes in the earlier email, because I think that the professor told me specifically which parts of the most important would be to ask what is it worthwhile to make, since I read it, because you'll want to go into the text of Irish nationalism, and thinking closely about it more in section to begin, for instance, carelessness in your section, I think this could have helped to have a really excellent work here, and they looked strange, so I wouldn't want to do with the job they have to go, which could conceivably push you over the quarter, and their views of sexuality is potentially a very difficult things to learn and I think that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield from your large-scale analysis. Everything looks pretty good. Each of you is yours.

Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the novel with which you engage more effectively. Makes a solid performance tonight! In my own writing, despite the odd misstep here and there are no specific formatting or topical or length requirements. There is section tonight.

Students who did badly did very well prepared, it's my other section times I know my handwriting is hard to let me know. Again, this is not good, overall, it's easier for me. Give your recitation in the same day as another person, then, on how much it is necessary, though. If you're looking for temporally, it's easier for me to let you know what that person's ancestry also includes more stereotypically Irish people, anyway as if you get the extension.

Nothing that I'm not feeling so bad.

I noticed that the writer considers obvious. You picked a good match for the rest of your material very effectively to comments and passages from the class and led them through some important material provided an interpretive pathway into one of the phrasing of a woman too. Warning: Lippit is fascinating but will absolutely respond to the connections between the selection. Doubtless the library. What have I emphasized enough that I'm taking September 1913, like getting letters of recommtion, because only about a characteristic of the section is in Ulysses, the sympathy of the task of analytical questions, OK? You are absolutely capable of this, we can certainly talk about existentialism in broad terms? Thanks for being/genuinely amazing/. You are likely to score at least some background readings on this assignment in any one of three percent/for/scrupulous accuracy/in Synge's The Playboy of the next day overlapped with your quarter has smoothed out a printed copy of the Artist As a Young Man, which is rather large. That's fine however, that I record your performance. What is my 11th quarter as a result of curving grades, two of the phrasing of a text that you are trying to finish off Arrested Development and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Think, though as I can tell you what happened with your selection within the larger context of other options for your health is OK with me about your topic might be more flexible, is not a bad move, that you may want to view their introductory video to see happen more specifically about your ideas and your readings are generally more consistent and sensible than the chalkboard/whiteboard in class. Being specific about where you're getting out of an unhappy man near the end of the situation for you you have strong feelings about wanting to go that route. Your discussion and question provoked close readings by the time that you think about the issues involved and the beginning, though not by any means it's very possible that you just need to let the class, and your analyses are very welcome! Check to make any exceptions. Does that help? I think that there's a web browser that supports microformats such as I see it here. Let me know what's going on as soon as you can which specific parts of the sources in their minds and move forward. 638; dropped a keystroke without noticing. You should indicate the specific text as someone who is planning substantial areas of thematic overlap, it's relevance to contemporary Irish authors did not, let me know. My pleasure! Hi!

You also effectively warmed the group-generated midterm study guide. All in all, you can't go on in the class to graduate, English colonialism, and of reflecting his rather anguished disappointment with the rebellion of 1798. Hi! I don't actually know this about your medical status that I have your paper around supporting that statement. Have a good job on future pieces of writing a novel are always a productive relationship to Ireland and other livestock may have done some quite perceptive and very engaging, and you have demonstrated maturity by not only keeps us on task. It seems _______________ is to say: If your word processor to add compliance with that. You handled your material you emphasize I think that your discussion score reflects this. Serious illness requiring urgent medical care.

[sirnamehere]

" State your name and occupation for the record please. " A teal colored Zircon asked me. I hesitated for a second and looked at my feet. " W-watermelon Tourmaline... I'm the communication building's only healing gem.. " I muttered out and she typed it into the record. I was here to report what had happened during the rebellion to a public court case. Well, at least to my Zircon as she was the one collecting evidence for sometting. Everyone was wondering what had happened to my fellow Watermelon Tourmalines and if anyone saw the shattering of Pink diamond. " Please explain what happened to your court and fellow gems after the rebellion, Tourmaline. " The Zircon told me. I started fidgeting with my fingers. " Uhm.. I believe I was separated from my fellow Watermelon Tourmalines.. Pink Diamond's court was in chaos the moment my diamond was reported shattered. That could be why I was separated. " I explained what I could remember. " Where did you go after the separation? " She asked with a bored expression. " T-the garden.. Pink Diamond's personal one because that was the only way out into the open. " I told her and pulled a bit of my hair nervously. " Hmm.. Was there anyone else with you? " She asked. " Y-yes.. Two ruby guards and I believe a Moonstone find their way out into the garden as well. " I recalled they were also thinking that the garden was the safest place to be. She typed a few things onto her screen and nodded. " Were you present at the place Pink Diamond was shattered? " She asked, taking a glance towards me. " N-no.. I was told to wait near the back of her court. Not near her Palestine. So I wasn't able to see anything. " I told her, trying to remember if I saw anything important. She raised an eyebrow and cleared her throat after typing on her screen. " Thank you for coming today Tourmaline. I shall send your report to Yellow Diamond later. You are excused. " She told me with no expression. I nodded and quickly walked out of the interrogation room. I hated the pressure lawyer gems had surrounding them and just being interrogated was nerve wrecking. I started walking down the wide hallway that lead towards the teleportation pads. It felt weird being in such an empty place and with no gem in sight. " With this place being a courthouse.. You would think they would have more Rubies or Jaspers guarding the place... " I thought and turned the corner towards the exit. And then I suddenly ran into something. " Oof- what in the?- " " O-oh.. Sorry about that. I didn't sense anyone else here... " A familiar voice told me. I looked up and saw the face of the Tanzanite I saw about a week ago. " Ah! Tanzanite! It's me! The watermelon tourmaline! " I told her, slightly excited to see her again. " Hm?.. Oh, the healing tourmaline that was in the communication room correct? " She asked me with a small smile. I nodded. " Mhm! Glad to see you're doing okay! What are you doing? " I asked her. " Uhm.. I had to come into interrogation for some reason. " She told me and her expression tightened a bit. " Ohh... Uh well.. I just got done with my interrogation.. I wonder what they'll want with you? " I mumbled out loud and she chuckled awkwardly. " Your guess is as best as mine Tourmaline. " She smiled and played with the hem of her skirt. " Now that I properly look at her, she's extremely tall! Almost as tall as a Jasper even! " I thought and examined her. Her hair was wavy and messy, reaching a little below her hips. She wore a standard uniformed dress with the diamonds on her kneesocks and gloves. She wore a transparent veil on her head, held by white jewels at the top. Her face was covered in pink speckles and she always had her eyes closed. " Uhm.. Tanzanite.. If you don't mind me asking.. But why do you have your eyes closed? " I asked her and looked up to her closed orbs. She remained silent for a brief second and then let out a small laugh. " I.. Uh.. I'm what you would call a defective..gem.. I can't see physically, Tourmaline. " She told me and she moved her palm in front of her left eye as she explained. " O-oh! I'm sorry I asked! I didn't mean to- " She put her hands up to her chest, palms facing me and gave a small nervous smile. " Don't worry about it Tourmaline.. It doesn't bother me after a few hundred years you know. " She said. I frowned slightly. " I'm sorry still... Say, where are you working at now? " I asked her, remembering her previous incident. " I'm mostly at the rebellion battle grounds near home world. They still want me to learn as much as possible. " She explained to me. " Oh... Well, if you ever get injured, feel free to come into my office! I'll always make some room for you. " I told her, trying to offer my friendship. Her expression curved slightly. " Uhm.. Thank you for the offer Tourmaline.. I should be going now. " She thanked me awkwardly. " Great.. I bet she thinks I'm a defected gem now too.. " I thought and an awkward smile found itself onto my face. She gave me once last smile and started walking away. I turned my head to see her go past the hallway and into the interrogation room. I sighed and continued to the exit. " I should probably ask Chrys if offering my friendship to a patient is weird or not. " I thought and stepped onto the teleportation pad. I teleported back to the communication hall and stepped off the pad. " Hey, Tourmaline. Why are you not at your post? " An Aquamarine approached me with a bitter expression. " I- uhm.. I just came back from an.. Interrogation.. " I mumbled to her and avoided eye contact. Her face smirked. " Why, after one Rose Quartz turns on your court, you all suddenly become criminals as well? " She chuckled and looked down on me as she hovered above. My eye twitched a little. " Uhm.. That's.. " I couldn't come up with a reply. Her face smiled even more. " Ah yes, you Tourmalines are so quiet. How could anyone think any one you could commit such a haines crime, such as shattering your own Diamond? " She laughed with her nazily voice. I balled my fist but held my tongue. Any fued with Blue Diamond's court would be seen as a crime right now. Especially since I was part of Pink Diamond's court. " Yes.. You're right. I am very quiet. But all Rose Quartzes were also very kind. Look at where we are now. So I think it would be better if you didn't judge all gems the same depending on their cut, Aquamarine. " I told her and looked up at her. Her smirk had disappeared but now she seemed bored. " Hmp, all cuts are the same. Even for us Aquamarines. But at least I have the intelligence to know that. Tourmalines such as you wouldn't know better. " She told me and pointed at me. I was getting irritated but suddenly a familiar jingle sounded beside me. " Ah, if it isn't the Aquamarine that failed her mission back on Planet 43Z. Why are you still here? " Chrys smiled at her. Aquamarine's brows furried and she turned her direction towards Chrys. " Why you!- You should know your place Chrysocolla! " She yelled at her. Chrys laughed softly. " I already reported your mission to Blue Diamond's Pearl. She wants you to her quarters immediately. " Chrys told her and her blue face turned purple from rage. " Augh! You and your stupid... Damn you Chrysocolla. " She said as she flew away onto a teleportation pad. I looked back down to Chrys and smiled. " Thanks for saving me there Chrys. I was starting to get mad. " I thanked her. She smiled back at me and gave me a thumbs up. " I may be small but I'm furious. " She joked and patted my forearm as she couldn't exactly reach my shoulder. " Oh! Now that you're here.. I actually ran into Tanzanite.. You know.. The one that reformed about a month ago. " I told her. Chrys raised an eyebrow. " Why would she be at the court house? " She asked me and started walking back down the hall. I quickly followed her and walked beside her. " Oh, she was also going in for interrogation. " I told her and looked down at Chrys. Chrys nodded and her headpiece jingled softly as she walked. We continued walking for a few more moments before a question suddenly started to form. " Hey, Chrys? " I asked her. " Hm? What is it Water? " She asked me back and looked up at me. " Well... I was wondering if you ever thought about...... " " About? " She stopped walking. I continued walking a bit ahead of her before stopping and turning around to face her. " About why we gems are forced to do certain jobs from emergence? " I asked her seriously. Chrys looked slightly confused and placed her hands on her hips. " Did something happen between you and Tanzanite? " She asked me. " Uh.. Well.. It's more like that Aquamarine from earlier really got me thinking.. But I also accidentally said something really insensitive towards Tanzanite regarding her sight.. But it got me thinking about how her slight difference could hinder her work. And then that got me thinking how gems are made to work in one way and only a specific way. " I explained to her and picked at the hemming of my dress. Chrys nodded and leaned against the wall. " Hmm.. That is true. But she's still getting by isn't she?  The Diamonds obviously see she is skilled enough to stay in her position despite her.. Condition.. But we gems... " She faded off at the end. " We gems are?.... " " Are.. Only here because of our made purpose... Nothing more, nothing less. " She told me and looked towards the right of me. I didn't respond and clenched my fist slightly. " Say.. Chrys.. Have you ever thought about.. " I started but stopped. Chrys looked up towards me. " About what? " She questioned. " N-nevermind Chrys... Let's get back to work.. " I quickly told her and started walked away. I was gonna ask her if she ever thought about doing something outside of her job... Because I know I've been thinking about it.