#with the exception of a few groups but i think it's generally p clear who i dislike yk..

[kyufeed]

reminder u can tag me with #ninqztual even if we arent mutuals pls tag me!!

[devilrising]

For me the top of the list of things that feel gay and homophobic at the same time is Darco MyFatherWillHearAboutThis Malfoy

I really enjoyed this prompt! Thank you Raye for the beta <3

Warnings: drunken shenanigans, spin the bottle, and first kisses

***

The Room of Requirement is packed with students, speakers, and tables covered with cheap food and alcohol. Harry isn’t entirely sure who thought asking for Muggle speakers was a good idea, but the Room had supplied massive ones that take up a good amount of space. Occasionally a Pureblood bumps into them, and Harry takes great delight in watching them flinch and rush away.

When Hermione had suggested a party to help build interhouse relationships for the Eighth Years, Harry had been skeptical at best. When Ron had readily agreed to it, and even made sure the Slytherins were included, Harry was suspicious. There’s no way Ron was willing to hang out with Slytherins without an ulterior motive.

Part of Harry thinks he just wants to get into Hermione’s pants.

Face twisting in disgust at the thought, Harry forces himself back to the current situation. Most of the Eighth Years are gathered in a semi-circle, sitting in front of a roaring fire. There’s a bottle in the middle of the group, presently ignored in favour of the couple snogging. Harry didn’t see the point in playing Spin the Bottle. He had protested and claimed that they were too old to be making people kiss their classmates, but no one had wanted to listen to him.

Now though, after a few shots of Firewhiskey burning through his veins, he doesn’t think it’s such a bad idea anymore. If nothing else, it has finally made Dean and Seamus realise how stupid they are for each other.

“Alright alright! Keep it family friendly!” Hermione calls out, voice slightly slurred. The boys finally break apart, Dean squeezing Seamus’ butt once before moving back to his spot in the circle. Seamus flushes bright red, and after a moment, crawls after him.

“Spin the bottle!” Blaise shouts, grinning as it's set in motion again.

With all eyes turned to watch who it lands on, Harry takes a moment to scan the room again. There’s the circle of gay girls also playing spin the bottle, another group of people playing a drinking game of some sort, and not much else happening. The flash of blond hair he’s looking for is nowhere to be found, and he sighs under his breath. Bloody Malfoy must be invisible. Or not interested in getting drunk.

Harry forces his eyes back to his own circle, the group of boys staring in horror at the bottle. Theodore Nott and Terry Boot. Harry bites back a shocked laugh. It had surprised absolutely no one when both these boys came out, but surprised everyone when they started dating. Then it had all promptly fallen apart. And now they have to kiss because of a drunk party game. Harry feels slightly sorry for them, even if it’s also hilarious.

He watches as Terry wrinkles his nose in disgust, but shuffles forward on his knees to sit in the centre of the circle. Theo follows a moment later, scowling at Terry.

“It can’t be too bad Theo! You used to be constantly snogging him!”

“Not the time, Blaise,” Ron murmurs from where he’s standing with Hermione next to the fireplace. Ron may be bisexual, and therefore meets the criteria to join the game, but there’s no way he’d look at anyone else now he’s with Hermione. The two are nausea inducing, and Harry loves them.

Harry watches as Terry scoffs, fists his hands in Theodore’s shirt, and tugs him close. The kiss is a harsh peck, over in a second. Theo looks stunned, and then he’s hauling Terry back in. This time, it’s closer to snogging, and earns a few wolf whistles.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” Blaise mutters. “Bloody boys.”

“Blaise, you’re a boy,” Harry whispers pointedly.

Blaise just shrugs.

“Move it on lads,” Dean calls out.

Terry pulls away first, putting some distance between himself and Theo. And then he’s lifting a hand and slapping Theo across the cheek.

Theodore swears loudly, standing up and storming back to his spot next to Blaise. I guess they aren’t getting back together.

Cheers erupt from the circle of girls, and Harry turns to find Pansy and Lavender snogging. He watches as Pansy gets her hands in Lavender’s hair and tugs, making her moan. Hermione is quick to break it up, and the girls settle back down together, Pansy practically sitting in Lavender’s lap.

“Spin the bottle!” Anthony Goldstein calls, and Blaise takes great delight in grabbing it and giving a hard spin.

Harry zones out again, letting the game play around him. He briefly sees Blaise crawling into the circle, but he doesn’t know who the other player is. He glances around the room again. Where the fuck is Malfoy?

***

“You know what’s both gay and homophobic?” Theodore is asking a little while later, between rounds. Harry thinks having to kiss Dean Thomas is pretty high on his list. Dean a) has a boyfriend (as of 15 minutes ago) and b) is as far away from Harry’s type as possible. He won’t say that though; he would hate to offend one of his roommates of eight years.

“Guitars!”

The circle cheers.

“How?” Harry asks. He’s definitely missing something.

“You know. All those homophobic men who play them, but the gays love guitars.” Theo shakes his head like it should be obvious.

“Here I was thinking you’d say being forced to snog your ex!” Justin Finch-Fletchley called from across the room.

Theo huffs, looking down at the floor as his ears become pink.

An awkward cough draws Harry’s attention to someone outside the circle. Malfoy. Harry freezes, unable to tear his eyes away from Malfoy. His hair is for once not slicked back, but purposely tousled, hanging down over his forehead. His Hogwarts robes have been swapped out for a mesh black shirt and sinfully tight jeans. Harry can see his nipples through the shirt, and the sight makes his mouth water.

“You know what I think is gay and homophobic at the same time?” Ron, drunk off his arse, asks the group.

Everyone pauses, waiting.

“Draco MyFatherWillHearAboutThis Malfoy!”

The circle explodes with laughter and catcalls. All eyes turn to Malfoy, and Harry watches as the boys rake their eyes over his outfit. Something heavy settles and twists in Harry’s gut.

Malfoy flushes a lovely colour of pink, stuttering. No words actually manage to form, and after a few attempts at talking, he just rolls his eyes.

“Join the circle Draco!” Blaise says, his words nearly slurred beyond recognition. Theo nods enthusiastically, and soon everyone else is practically begging Malfoy to join. With an exaggerated sigh, Malfoy makes his way to the circle, sitting down between Theo and Blaise.

Great. Time to leave.

Harry shuffles back slowly, hoping not to draw any attention to himself. The universe has other plans though, as all eyes immediately fix on him.

Harry clears his throat. “I’m uh- I’m gonna go find Hermione. It’s getting late.” He feels his cheeks heating up, and hopes that the flush will be hidden under his dark skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Nope. Absolutely not. It’s just gotten interesting!” Seamus declares, his accent made all the more worse with excess alcohol. Dean, who Seamus is using as a chair, nods along.

“Yeah Potter, play one more round with us!” Anthony pipes up, a smirk playing on his lips.

A hand grabs Harry’s wrist and tugs him back to the floor. Harry resumes his position in the circle with a scowl. He can’t believe this is happening. Except, it’s not at all surprising.

“What do you say, Draco spins this time?” Blaise asks the group, and everyone nods. Everyone except Harry, who can’t think of a worse idea, but no one seems to care.

Malfoy turns to look at Blaise, his expression hidden from Harry; after a slight hesitation, he reaches forward. Draco’s pale, delicate hands look beautiful next to the bottle. Harry shakes his head. I must be really drunk.

The bottle spins and spins and spins. Harry nearly goes dizzy from watching it move, trying to predict where it will end up. Eventually it begins to slow down. Harry tracks its movements, his eyes flitting from Terry to Anthony to Dean to Seamus to…

“No. Nuh uh, no way.” All faces once again turn to Harry, and he glares at all of them.

“You have to Harry! It’s the rules!” Theo says.

“I am not kissing Malfoy.”

“Why not, Potter?” Blaise asks, eyes innocently--worryingly--large.

“Because it’s Malfoy.”

Harry turns to find Malfoy’s eyes, who is staring right at him. His gaze burns into Harry, setting him alight. I can’t do this.

“What’s wrong Potter?” Malfoy asks, popping the ‘p’ in an imitation of the way he used to say it. Now though, after the antagonism of their rivalry has faded to banter and bickering, Malfoy says it more gently. It always makes something in Harry’s brain melt. “Afraid I’ll be too good?” He lifts a single eyebrow, thin lips curving into a smirk.

“As if Malfoy. You’ve probably never kissed anyone before!” Harry knows it’s weak, but his brain is mostly offline thanks to the Firewhiskey and the idea of what’s about to happen. Because of course he’s going to kiss Malfoy.

“Trust me Potter, he has.”

Harry isn’t sure who said it, but he glares in the general direction. The image of Draco kissing someone other than him turns his mood sour. The weight in his gut reappears.

Draco is grinning when Harry looks at him again. He moves onto his knees and shuffles into the centre of the circle. “Scared, Potter?”

Harry scowls, pushing aside all rational thought, and joins him. “You wish, Malfoy.”

Harry doesn’t have another second to think, because Draco is grabbing the collar of Harry’s shirt and pulling him in. Fire floods Harry’s veins as his lips meet Draco’s. His fingers twitch, and he threads them into Draco’s breath-taking hair. The kiss turns heated very quickly, and Harry struggles to keep up as Draco slides his tongue against Harry’s. He’s going dizzy with it, burning from the inside out. His stomach flips as Draco slides his hands from his collar to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.

Harry gasps for breath as they break apart, his lungs burning at the lack of oxygen. He can hear his pulse in his ears, blocking out everything except himself and Draco. After a second of harsh breathing, he feels lips on his jaw. A moan is wrenched from him as Draco nips gently, and then the mouth moves down to his neck. Draco sucks a mark into his skin, high up on his neck where Harry won’t be able to cover it. Harry can’t help the groan he releases, and tugs Draco back up to meet his lips again. Right where he wants him.

“Time to break it up!” someone is shouting, and Harry whines when Draco pulls away slightly.

As their foreheads rest against each other, Harry becomes aware of everyone in the Room cheering. Everyone. Not just the guys he was playing with, but the girls and other guys as well. Harry sighs, but he can’t help the smile on his lips.

“About bloody time mate,” Ron is saying when Harry finally gathers the courage to look at something other than the floor.

“Is now an appropriate time to say that I charmed the bottle?” Blaise asks, and Harry and Draco both whip around to look at him.

“You what?!” Draco shouts, glaring daggers into his friend.

“You two have been eye-fucking all term! I’m helping you get laid, Draco.” Blaise grins, the smug smile making Harry shake his head.

Draco rolls his eyes and stands up properly. Before Harry can begin doubting anything, Draco grabs his hand and hauls him up. Harry stands in front of Draco, a shy smile on his lips. God, he’s pretty.

“Come on, Harry,” Draco murmurs into his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

Harry is helpless to do anything but nod and follow him out of the Room, ignoring the catcalls that trail after them.

***

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[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Prince Nuada x Angel!Reader (P.3)

(Requested by @blackwoodwinter​ : Hello! Could i request a story of reader x prince nuada, where the reader is naturally born human with powers & mutations that make her look like an angel. She also works in the BPRD alongside Red and Abe and when she first meets Nuada he mistakes her for a mythical creature, initially not liking her of betraying mythical creatures for humans, but she clearfies she is technically human and shows him little by little there is still good in humanity.)

Warning: None I guess.

Word Count: 2,888

Part1 Part2

It has been weeks since the resurrection incident, (Y/n) had recovered and has rejoined the investigation for the Gargoyle. During the said investigation, Nuada has been keeping an eye on the little human angel, which surprised some because he always showed nothing but disgust towards her and now he will not leave her side unless she expressed wanting to be alone. Of course, he was subtle about it, only those who knew him well enough noticed such actions. Hellboy didn't like the sudden interest the elf prince had in (Y/n), Abraham was between being hopeful that Nuada accepted her as a friend and worried that he was up to something, Liz and Nuala on the other hand had a pretty good picture on what was possibly happening but said nothing only acted when Hellboy needed someone to hold him back or poor Abraham who needed reassurance that everything is fine.

 However, unlike what the girls were thinking, Nuada wasn't staying close to (Y/n) because he had feelings for her, but rather was intrigued by her and wanting to know what else she is able to do.

 "Can you fly with them?" He asked one day when he caught her stretching her wings, his eyes mesmerized by the feathers that shone against the light.

 "Uh… Yeah." She replied a bit startled since she thought she was alone.

 "How high can you go?" He took a few steps forward to get a better look at (Y/n)'s wings.

 "Well, the highest I went like… 60 story building." You answered self-consciously. Nuada raised a brow of bewilderment.

 "Only 60 story?" He repeated confused. "Forgive my bluntness, but I believed you could go higher since your wings look strong."

 "I might be." You said with a shrug.

 "Might be?"

 "Well, I never really went any higher than 60 stories." You looked around to make sure they were alone before whispering. "I'm actually scared to go higher."

 "Why is that?" Asked Nuada in bewilderment.

 "I'm just afraid that something might go wrong." You answered. "What if I went too high that I can't breathe anymore and lose consciousness and fall to my death, what if my wings got tired and cramped and caused me to fall to my death, or what if I got high enough that-"

 "Bunch of human hunters would mistake you for a bird and shot you down to your death?" Said Nuada with a smirk finding (Y/n)'s imagination amusing.

 "No, that would be a silly thought." She retorted before continuing. "I was going to say, that I would accidentally be pulled into a plane's engine without me being able to prevent it.

 Nuada looked at her with wide eyes of amazement before bursting into laughter.

 "Why are you laughing!?" (Y/n) exclaimed with a bright red face, Nuada continued laughing.

 Nuada agreed to keep her secret on the condition of allowing him to help her get over her fear, which she reluctantly agreed to. When the weather was clear they would go outside where she would try and fly a bit higher, she would get scared after a few meters away from what she was used to but with practice, she is getting used to it. Of course, flying isn't the only thing he was teaching her. In the training room, he would teach her hand in hand combat and that she should not just depend on her wings. One day she came forward and asked him to teach her how to fight with weapons specifically with sword…that she already has.

 "Tell me again how did you obtain such a weapon." Said Nuada as he stared at the sword in her hands that he dared not to touch, for even if it was naked to the human eyes he could sense the holy aura around it.

  "It was found centuries by humans who passed it from one generation to the other, then from and organization to the other until it was settling beneath the Vatican vault." She explained. "I remember that we needed further information about a monster we were after, and such information can only be found in the Vatican. It was one of my first missions outside the country, Professor Broom is the one who insisted to take me along with them in hopes that by seeing me 'An Angel' that they would be a bit lenient on us, of course, Hellboy was forbidden to go along with us, so it was just me, the professor and a few protection agents….  I remember that while the professor was looking into the documents I felt a pull towards a locked room that to this day I still don’t know how did I get into without alarming anyone, all I remember is one moment I was standing on one side watching the professor work and then suddenly I was holding the sword in my hand while Vatican security was pointing a gun at me to let the sword go."

 Nuada watched her closely as she told the story, her eyes shone slightly as she stared down at her sword.

 "And what convinced them to let you keep it?" Asked Nuada pulling her out of her thoughts.

 "It was the Pope." She continued. "He said that the sword found its owner. I still don't understand. Of course, there were a lot who objected on letting me keep the word, but the Pope's words were final."

 "Does anyone know where the sword came from?"

 "They don't know exactly where, each one just said a different story." She sheathed her sword back to her side. "But the one I follow was the one Professor broom told me, That millenniums ago, in the war between Lucifer and god, that an Angel must have lost their weapon causing it to fall on earth…. I'm still skeptical about it but I think the story sounds really cool!"

 Nuada just stayed silenced and nodded at her.

 Everything was going well for Nuada. Manning trusted him more which allowed him more freedom to even walk outside the building unsupervised, He got to know Abraham more for his sister's sake, and even his relationship with Red become of a friendly rivalry rather than pure trust and distrust, and even humans around him started to become less tense around him, going as far as greeting him in the halls when they saw him or ask him about her day. Everything was going well…until Manning called for an emergency meeting that everyone including the paranormal agents had to be present in it.

 "His name is Hugo." Said Abraham as he presented the few blurry pictures they were able to catch on the digital screen.

 The moment he uttered the name Nuada could feel his blood grow cold and his heartbeat slightly rise with nervousness. He did his best not to show it. He would be lying to say that he didn't expect to hear about the gargoyle again, but part of him still hoped that the beast would follow his advice and disappear for a few centuries before striking again. The prince tried to ignore the bang of guilt he felt when remembering his first encounter with Hugo and how he let him go. His eyes looked to (Y/n) who was concentrating on whatever Abraham was saying with a serious look in her eyes while her hand rests on her sword, ready to fight. Aside from guilt now he also felt ashamed because he deceived her. The Elven prince stared back into the screen trying to mask his true feeling with a nonchalant stare.

 "We found the Gargoyle Coven and asked them about if any one of their members went rouge and they confirmed that Hugo was one of them, that he spent centuries complaining about the humans and even refusing to protect them from harm when they saw them in danger." A few murmurs were filling the room but were quieted down as he continued. "They cast him out of the coven after he not only witnessed the death of an innocent human family but helped the culprit escape."

 "How horrible." Said Nuala with a sorrowful look. "What kind of creature would allow such a thing."

 Nuada averted his eyes with shame from his sister, looking down at his weapon which he refused to raise against the gargoyle. He was now part of such a crime because he too let the beast flee undetected.

 "Listen, we still don't know what is his weakness since every book we had said that gargoyles are invisible…" Said Red earning everyone's attention. "Except against one thing and its sunlight, when it touches them they turn to stone, it still doesn't mean they are dead, they just become immobile until nightfall. So our best option is to find him, tie him down until sunrise, and when he turns to stone we break him to pieces!"

 When he said the last part he slammed his stone fist against the table breaking it.

 "…Oops…" He said as he took a step back.

 "You know Red.." Called (Y/n). "I was really admiring your plan, that you finally said something that didn't involve shooting something down, but then you go and do this."

 Her remark made the people in the room laugh or giggle, except Nuada who was trying to figure out what to do and how. Because if they did manage to catch the beast he will blurb out that he had helped him escape, which will lose him to lose everything he has now. Respect, Trust, and loyalty. The humans would probably lock him back with no hope of a second chance, his sister would look at him with disgust… and (Y/n) would never want to be near him again.

 No, he needed to do something and fast.

 ---

 "What is troubling you brother?" Asked Nuala as she entered his room.

 "Nothing is troubling me." He lied skillfully.

 He was in the middle of preparing for leaving with the others to look for the gargoyle. They had been informed of a large group of humans going missing around a specific area in the city so they planned to make different search parties each one lead by either Hellboy, Abraham, (Y/n), or him. His plan however was simple, slowly separate from the human group, search for a possible lead to Hugo, when he finds the Gargoyle he will convince him to leave the city. Nuala's eyes narrowed at her brother, who still has his back to her.

 "I sensed how agitated you were during the meeting." She said with her arms crossed. Nuada paused for a moment before continuing his work.

 "It was just the fact that I have to work with humans." He lied swiftly but Nuala didn't believe him.

 "Brother…" She called timidly, he just hummed in response. "Did you do something you shouldn't have done?"

 Nuala came forward to place her hand on her brother's shoulder in hopes of learning what he was hiding, but Nuada dodged her hand, which fell in mid-air. His sister froze when she saw the harsh glare he gave her.

 "You are my sister, and I love you dearly… But…" He growled. "If you tried to read my mind again without permission, I'm afraid I won't be so kind."

 He then turns around to leave his stunned sister in his room, her eyes wide because Nuada rarely becomes angry with her, but also because his action reminded her of when they were little, he would avoid her like the plague whenever he does something he shouldn't, like stealing pastry goods or breaking something valuable, but they were adults now and for Nuada avoiding her touch let alone give her such a glare means that whatever he was hiding was big, which makes her very worried.

 "What are you doing Brother." She said to no one in the empty room.

 ---

 Nuada was wearing a cloak to blend easily with the shadows whenever a human was about to see him. From the device, in his ear, Nuada could hear the human agents talking among themselves whether it was a casual conversation or just stating what they were seeing as suspicious, only rarely did they talk to him, and when they do it is only to ask him if he is seeing anything. He had enough when he saw that in a couple of hours they will have to go back, so Nuada told the humans that he was going to search from the buildings surface to have a better look at the dark sky to catch the Gargoyle if he was by chance flying over them. they trusted him and just told him to inform him if he saw anything so they can inform the other groups and come to help him. Nuada shook the bit of guilt he felt at the blind trust that these humans have given him, and continued jumping form a building to the other, when he deemed himself far enough he used the fire escape to go back down and go somewhere a bit more open for the Gargoyle to fly in freely. Nuada had seen how big Hugo was, not to mention the length of his wings, knowing that he would need an open place to be able to continue his kidnapping easily, Nuada had led the humans to an area that was closed, to keep them away and safe.

 He was walking on the side of the road looking up to the sky and keeping his senses sharp, to any movement near him. He kept walking until he reached a park. He was outside by the high iron fences, his eyes glanced to the lack of green graces, how the ground was filled with brown spots, most of the trees were dead or dying, even the children's ground was dirty and broken. A small bush of yellow flowers caught his attention, the flowers were growing on the small space between the iron fence bars, and they were slightly beaking out in the sidewalk. He didn't know why but he wanted to at least feel the small petals of the flowers, he knelt and reached for them but before his fingertips could someone called for him.

 "Don't pick the flower!" A small voice of a little girl who was running towards him.

 Nuada quickly took a step back and he tugged his hood down to assure that his face wasn't visible, but he still could see the little girl who was kneeling down to inspect the flowers. She then looked up to him.

 "I'm sorry for scaring your mister." Her tiny voice said politely. He just nodded in response to show that it was alright.

 Nuada watched as the little girl pulled out a worn-out plastic bottle which was filled with water. She opened the cap and proceeded to pour an amount that was obviously too much for the flower to absorb, but she did know that. When the bottle was half empty she stopped, and gave a satisfied nod at her work before closing the bottle again.

 "There used to be a lot of flowers, but after last summer almost all of them died because no one was there to take care of them…" The little girl explained. "So I decided that do it myself!"

 She gave Nuada, who was staring at her with interest, a big proud smile at what she just said. The prince couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips.

 "What is your name little one?" He asked gently.

 "My name is Sophie."

 "Well, Sophie, I must say that what you are doing is admirable." He said sincerely. The girl titled her head.

 "What does that mean?" she asked confused. He chuckled at her nativity.

 "It means good." he explained as simply as he could. "What you are doing is very good."

 The girl's eyes widened in realization before giggling, delighted to being praised by a stranger. He was still curious about something.

 "Why are you watering them at night?" He asked.

 "Oh, My mom grounded me today and I couldn't go and water them, so I sneaked out." She said as if she was caught doing something wrong… which she was.

 "It is dangerous to go into the night this late you need to return home now." Nuada said in a soft yet stern manner. The Girl's smile dropped, replaced by a sad frown.

 "B...But my flowers…"

 "Your flowers can survive till morning and I am sure if you told your mother she will understand." He said. "But sneaking out late at night with no one knowing your location, now go home now, it's dangerous."

 The little girl looked as if she was going to say something but refrained from doing so and she turned and ran away. Nuada as well turned on his heel to continue his search for the Gargoyle. However, Nuada failed to notice how the little girl stopped her track after she thought she was far enough from him, and when she saw him turn in a corner and disappear the little girl returned back to the park to tend to the rest of her flowers, disobeying the stranger's orders, believing that she will be safe enough to water a few more flowers.

 Unaware of the glowing red eyes that are watching her from afar.

--- 

I hope all of you enjoyed this part and will look forward for more.

Reminder Requests are closed.

[20thcentury-kylo]

Tides Of Memory Chapter 1.5

hey there.. I'm gonna be honest this probably took more out of me than it should- i got a tad too ambitious and burnt myself out :p and i was so unsatisfied with it that most of the art got scrapped in the process, with that in mind i don't consider this a full chapter, I'm gonna take a step back and try a more manageable approach for the next one- (hopefully that wont take as long heheh)

Anywho i hope you enjoy what i have here even if its not much~

Eyes set adrift a sunlit room that morning. Echos of his dream still rang clearly in his thoughts. Kiome shifts from the dorm’s bed in a slow fluid motion. Standing to stretch, he revels in the subtle pops and cracks that surge through his body. Stray tears are wiped away as the sleep slowly fades from his eyes. He’s standing at the bathroom mirror- trying for once to remember the sights from his last dream, nothing comes to mind except flashes of red and pink hues. However what he remembers more than anything- and what he can't seem to shake from his mind; is the lullaby-like melody and the words playing over and over in soft loops.

“I knocked on your bedroom door~” The lyrics come to him so naturally that Kiome can't help but hum them as he brushes his teeth. Strangely enough it’s accompanied by faint strums of a guitar that isn't really there- all things he chooses to ignore. The poor boy's life is confusing enough already.

It takes no more than an hour for Kiome to be ready and out of the dorm, checking his phone to ensure he isn't late for homeroom. Summer’s in full swing as the temperatures rise to the mid 80’s and the scent of blooming sunflowers once again grace the air. Kiome’s pace slows as he’s accompanied by Ryota, Kengo, and Shiro, with the latter two engaged in their usual morning banter. The swordsman falls behind a bit- still trapped by thoughts of his dreams. Something about the clouds wispy white puffs is strangely familiar, and he finds himself unable to contain the smile that forms in response. Ryota gives him a questioning look, yet with a smile from Kiome brushes it off as a sign that today would just be a good day.

First period is no slower than usual, Ziz moves her lesson along at a comfortable pace allowing Kiome time to daydream. His mind wanders again to the contents of his recurring dreams, something similar to a sad nostalgia seems to wash over him in the moment. He remembers… losing something- someone, but when he screams the question of who into the void- he gets no response, only the words he can't seem to get out of his head

“Darling, I love you~”

The school day seems to blur by, a collection of laughs and sighing wistfully at the antics of his classmates. Kiome is packing up from his last class when he hears an intriguing rumor amongst his friends.

“Yeah, something about hearin’ strange music and coming back from hell-'' Kengo mutters in between bites of the treats Ryota had brought for them. His interest piqued- Kiome slid closer to the group, getting a rainbow bun from Ryota in the process. Morikata continues the story- telling them of how a group of transients attempted to salvage some sunken treasure- only to have their ship sunk by some mysterious sound wave. As the information kept coming in by each of his peers, he’d figured he knew where his next adventure was.

“Sounds like they got into some serious trouble for it, even if it is true we don't have much to go on '' Shiro's words of warning felt strangely directed at just him, but regardless this wasn't something the swordsman was just gonna let pass by. At another mention of Nakano by the others, the boy's mind shifts to some familiar faces. Knowing it was anything involving ships, Eita and the others especially Benten. Benten would definitely be there- He’d go on and check on them while he was there. The group all decides to hold a study session together for the upcoming exams, and while Kiome wouldn't mind attending- he had other matters to attend to.

“You’re headed for the station~” Toji approached him in the school's main courtyard, speaking it as more of a statement than a question. It didn't take long for him to get the gist of it.. Of why he had to go, what surprised Kiome further is when he offered to cover for him. Looking back on it the swordsman owed him one, big time. There was this strange sense of anticipation as he boarded the train, he felt this trip would be something… important. The train ride to Nakano was quiet enough, and he pretty much spent it lost in his own head, but once he arrived, the hustle and bustle of the ward itself was almost overwhelming, he had a slight idea of what he was looking for, but no clue where to even start. Seemingly lost, Kiome sighed in relief when his phone started to buzz. The familiar Buzz, and jingle that always came when lil Sal appeared.

“Ta-Dah! It’s your trusty Familiar Lil’ Salomon at your service.” The small familiars antics aside, it was good to see him, and give a few belly rubs while he was at it.

“Woah- what are we doing all the way in Nakano Master?” After relaying the information he’d heard from his friends, Lil Sal proceeded to go through the list of apparent hits his search had brung up. They're soon heading to the shopping complex looking for the largest crowd they could find. In the shopping districts center the crowd is overflowing- Kiome can barely weave through the torrent of passing bodies let alone focus enough to find anything. Yet among the clamoring voices of conversation he begins to hear a voice, a boy's voice.

“H-hello, are you interested in embarking on a wondrous adventure!” Kiome follows the sound of it, weeding through the lessening crowd to its source. The more he heard it, the more the swordsman felt he had heard it before.

“A Life changing Journey on the open seas, with undiscovered riches!” After a lot of pushing the crowds dispersed until Kiome found himself in a clearing. The voice was loud and clear yet as he turned about- he couldn’t find a figure to match said voice.

“Here's What I think of your stupid treasure hunt!!” The clear yells of a transient rang out- drawing the boys attention. It was a therian- dressed kind of like a generic video game mob- and in front of him was clearly the person he’d been looking for. He makes a bee line for them but before Kiome can reach the pink haired boy is shoved in his direction. Instinctually he goes to catch the poor victim, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. Flyers have scattered everywhere, and he can hear the snickering of those passing by.

“Oi- hey are you okay..” Kiome looks up as the words leave his mouth, only to meet a pair of silver- pink hued eyes..

And suddenly- his head hurts...

~As always comments and reviews are very appreciated~

[craniumhurricane]

call me, baby, if you need a friend

Cleaning up some old WIPs. This has been in my drafts since end of season 2/around season 3.

Basically 4 times Clarke calls Bellamy and 1 time that Bellamy calls Clarke.

Thank you @casleyislove and @sushigirlali for always reading things before I post them!

[ On AO3! ]

___

(i)

It's a quiet night in at the Blake apartment. Or, at least, for Bellamy it is. He's having a nice Friday night by himself after surviving a truly grueling week of finals. Octavia tried to convince him to go out and celebrate the end of the semester the "right way," but he turned her down… he's still not quite sure how he managed to do that.

His feet are currently propped up on the coffee table with a large bowl of store brand cocoa puffs in his lap. Bellamy may be an adult but damn if he isn’t going to celebrate the end of the term with sugary cereal… nevermind that he didn’t actually make time to grocery shop this week. The TV was queued and ready for the marathon of Ancient Aliens episodes he’d missed due to studying, and he was just about to press play when he hears a short but insistent buzzing sound.  

Glancing around, his eyes land on Octavia’s phone sitting on the corner of the coffee table. She must have left it in her hurry to leave since she was running late to meet up with her boyfriend.

Bellamy keeps his eyes on it for a second before deciding to ignore it, and once again his finger hovers over the play button on the remote. Then the phone lights up again, this time with a phone call; a picture of Octavia and a curly haired blonde that he recognizes, the name CLARKE THE GRIFFIN flashing across the screen. He considers ignoring it for a second time but... if she’s resorting to actually calling instead of texting again then something could be seriously wrong.

Bellamy swipes his thumb across the screen to answer and brings the phone to his ear but before he can even say anything a voice on the other side interjects immediately.

“Men are dicks,” the woman says without preamble. “No! Worse than that. They're weird tumors that grow on dicks," she pauses, seems to think about it, and then adds, "Preferably life threatening.”

Bellamy blinks a few times before he answers, “I'm sure you're right, but don't you think that's a bit harsh?”

The line is quiet. He can hear her shifting the phone, no doubt checking the screen to make sure she called the right person.

“Octavia?”

“Bellamy.”

Clarke huffs. “Where's Octavia?” she snaps. He can hear the annoyance seeping into her tone, which in turn just makes him feel his own frustrations start to rise.

He tamps it down though. “On a date,” he answers.

She deflates at that, “Oh right. One month anniversary with Lincoln.”

He hums a confirmation and then they’re silent for a few minutes. So long that it’s Bellamy’s turn to look at the phone and make sure she’s still there. “Did you need something?” he asks once he sees that the call is still, in fact, in progress.

She takes a deep breath before answering, “I ended things with Finn tonight.”

Bellamy had only met Finn Collins a handful of times; the guy was fine except for a little cocky… and he always seemed to want to show off in front of pretty girls. His hair was too long and always styled like he was some kind of frat boy that came from big money even though Bellamy's 100% sure he never so much as pledged.

And then there was that one time he flirted with Octavia.

Ok, so Bellamy didn’t like the guy. But a break up is still a shitty thing to go through which is why he says, “I’m sorry,” and finds that he means it.

“Not your fault,” Clarke says immediately, “But I was kind of looking for someone to watch me binge drink and listen to me vent.”

He understands that, having gone through the same thing when he broke up with Roma at the start of the term. If you could really call them “hooking up occasionally” the same thing as dating, but still, getting drunk with Miller had been essential in the whole moving on process.

“You want to come over here anyway?” he offers carefully, casually. He doesn’t mind Clarke. She’s younger than him, around Octavia’s age. They aren’t exactly friends, but he would consider them a little more than acquaintances. Enough that it shouldn’t be too weird for him to invite her over even without his sister present. Plus, her getting drunk here is a better alternative than her getting drunk by herself in some bar.

“You don’t mind?” she asks and he thinks he hears relief in her voice, “I was kind of already on my way over to your guy’s place... I don’t really feel like going out and I really don't feel like being depressed and alone in my dorm right now.”

“Nah,” he says and then tries a joke to brighten her spirits, “Sounds like something fun to watch. I’ll order food.”

“Chinese would be great,” and he swears he can hear a smile in her voice so he’ll count his dumb joke as a victory. “Thanks, Bellamy, see you soon.”

He's not even a little bit mad about dumping out his now soggy cereal.

*

(ii)

“So, you’ve been in school for basically forever. Is it normal for a person to experience this amount of stress?”

Bellamy’s lips twitch as he holds his phone to his ear. After Clarke crashed his Friday night in, and spilled on the whole cheating Finn debacle while they did shots, Bellamy figured he should give her his own cell phone number. As much as he hated to admit it, and honestly he never will, his sister and her boyfriend were getting serious, so who knows how much Octavia would be available for late night bitchfests about significant others, fellow students, and the human population in general. Which were just a few of the topics they discussed that night. Hanging out with Clarke ended up being kind of fun, a better night than he originally planned. She even let him watch a little of his marathon and offered her own commentary. Bellamy would do it again… which is something else he would never admit.

It's not like they suddenly talk every day, but it’s a near thing. They would send each other the occasional text when one of them sees something that the other absolutely has to know about. Mostly, he gets pictures of old dogs she sees at the park, asking if this will be him in 20 years. Bellamy responds in kind with memes about college life and rubbing it in her face that they no longer apply to him since he graduated last semester.

But sometimes she reaches out to him if there is something particularly bothering her. Such as dealing with egotistical dickwads that consider themselves professors and shutting down female students in a male dominated class.

Clarke’s probably the only person that ever calls him and can never start the conversation with a simple ‘Hello’. Actually, she’s probably the only person that actually still calls him.

“I just got a job teaching so that insult isn't going to work anymore since I literally will be in a school as part of my job,” is his first response before he turns to one of concern, “Midterms got ya down?”

“It’s just,” she gives an exasperated sigh before continuing, “I want to do something that helps people, I know I want to help people… But maybe I don't want to help people the way my mom wants me to help people...ya know?”

“You’re going to have to give me more to go on here, Princess-”

“I’m thinking about switching my major,” she says abruptly, like she’s ripping off a band aid.

He’s silent, waiting to see if she’s going to say anything else. When it becomes clear she’s waiting for him to say something he responds honestly, “If being a doctor isn’t something you want to do, then you shouldn’t do it.”

“But-”

“What your mom wants you to do shouldn’t overrule what you want to do, Clarke,” he interrupts her. Due to the increasing amount of time he’s been spending with Clarke, he’s learned that the Griffins have always had a capital “P” Plan and he knows that Clarke has a hard time knowing when she can push the boundaries of said Plan.

She’s silent again and Bellamy’s starting to think he’s going to have to prod her a second time. He’s got the beginnings of his big speech all prepared when finally she speaks up. “I’m thinking about going into Art Therapy,” She says thoughtfully, “Or maybe teaching? Helping out underprivileged kids...or hell, even underprivileged adults. Or maybe something for the community?”

His lips twitch on another smile at hearing the beginnings of a hint of passion in her voice. “Teaching can be very rewarding,” he says magnanimously.

She snorts and it turns into a full laugh, “You haven't even started yet! It could be the worst thing you’ve ever done and a total waste of your degree.”

“Your confidence in me really is touching,” he deadpans and then adds simply, “You’re an amazing artist, Clarke. I think doing something with that could be something you'd enjoy and be really really good at.”

She’s quiet when she asks, “You think I’m amazing? You’ve never told me that.” And Bellamy swears he can hear that smile in her voice again. The one he always looks forward to. The one he tries to coax out of her without realizing he’s doing it.

He feels his cheeks start to heat up and even though she can't see him, he feels the need to brush it off. “Yeah, well, I generally try to be as dickish as possible so…”

She snorts again and damn if he didn’t feel a slight flutter in his chest.

“For the record, I think you’re going to be an amazing teacher,” she says it so matter-of-factly but he’ll have to dwell on it later because she sobers and then asks softly, “So, you think I should do it?”

It’s not hard for him to build her up. She spends so much time being there for the rest of their slowly merging friend groups that she rarely takes time to see the greatness in herself. He doesn’t mind helping.

“I think you should do whatever the hell you want.”

*

(iii)

“Women are worse than men.”

Bellamy rubs the sleep from his eyes and glances at the clock; it was almost 3 in the morning. “I thought men were tumors?” he asks around a yawn.

“Yeah, well, women can be tumors too,” Clarke huffs, but she just sounds tired, “Comparing people to tumors is equal opportunity. Strides in feminism are being made, didn’t you know?”

Bellamy pushes himself into a sitting position, suddenly more alert as he picks up the trace of tears in her voice. “You ok?” he asks.

Clarke is silent at first, but he waits her out, he knows that she’ll tell him. “Lexa broke up with me,” she says quietly and then adds in confusion, “Or we broke up with each other? I’m a little unsure. We spent the whole night arguing and then suddenly she was packing up her stuff.” She pauses before taking a shaky breath, “It’s over. We’re over.”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

“She was leaving anyway,” she continues, bitterly, “Some new job. She was leaving in a few weeks and didn’t even bother to tell me. I told her we could make it work long distance, I was willing to try and make it work. That’s when the arguing started. Not just about that but about-,” Clarke abruptly cuts herself off and hesitates, “about... other things. Things I didn’t even know were an issue.” She’s quiet again before she adds, “She didn’t say it but I think she was disappointed that I never suggested going with her...”

The thought makes a quick flash of irritation run through him. “She wanted you to uproot your entire life and go with her,” he summarizes as he tries to adjust the pillows on his bed by beating them, maybe a little too roughly at the thought of her doing just that, before leaning back against them.

“Which is completely crazy, I know,” she hurries to say, “but I wish we could have talked about it.”

“I am sorry, Clarke,” he says again, “I know Lexa seemed like she was it for you.”

“But maybe she wasn’t?” Clarke counters as if trying to reason with herself. “I don’t know. We were both committed to each other, but maybe this was a sign that we weren’t going to be able to make it work long term?” She pauses and Bellamy can hear the gears in her head turning as she processes a way for her to handle this, too explain it to herself. “When we were together,” she hesitates before continuing, and he can imagine her biting her lip, “I was happy... but I felt like a separate version of myself, ya know? Still me, but not completely me?”

Bellamy chews on the words he wants to say and goes with, “Sometimes the person you're with can change you; it's not always a bad thing.” He gets quiet as he adds thoughtfully, “I like to think Gina made me a better person...and she probably did,” he pauses, this time unsure if he should keep going, but Clarke hasn't said anything, so she must be waiting for him to continue, “We tried, tried really hard, to make it work, but eventually you just realize that maybe the relationship isn't going anywhere and what’s best for everyone is just to call it.”

“Wait, you and Gina broke up?” Clarke asks in surprise, “When did that happen!?”

“That's what you got from that?” He rubs a hand over his face as he thinks about it, “About two weeks ago?”

“Shit,” she says and is quiet before asking in a small voice, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Honestly, I haven't seen a whole lot of you these last few months,” he hears what he said and corrects himself, “We haven’t seen a whole lot of you.” He’s surprised at his ability to keep the bite out of his voice; because the truth was this last year has sucked since Clarke started dating Lexa.

They met at one of Clarke's art gigs. Lexa was cool; fun when she wanted to be, but also a little hard to be around. Most of the time, she seemed to prefer doing things without any of Clarke’s friends.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says.

“It’s fine,” he answers her and means it. “Gina and I are still good friends.”

“I wasn’t talking about you and Gina,” she says, voice soft.

He realizes what she’s actually apologizing for and he doesn’t know what to say. Because of course he forgives her, he will always forgive her.

The silence lasts too long so he clears his throat and prompts, “Want to come over and get drunk?”

Her laugh through the phone breaks the tension, “It’s like 3 o'clock in the morning.”

“My bar is always open.”

She chuckles. “I really want to hit something,” she says with a determined edge to her voice, “Then maybe get drunk.”

“How about this, we get a few more hours of sleep, wake up at a normal time, and go hit something,” he offers and then adds as if it's an afterthought, “And then get drunk, of course.”

She laughs again, “Oh, of course.” There’s that smile. “I forgot what being single with you was like.”

Bellamy sobers at the thought. It has been awhile since the two of them were single at the same time. “Always here to help, Princess.”

*

(iv)

“Why did I agree to this trip again?”

He’s packing up the essays that are scattered across his desk when she calls, 4 o’clock on the dot. Bellamy tries to suppress a laugh but he’s pretty sure she can at least hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Just getting back to the hotel?” he asks in lieu of his own greeting.

“Yes!” she exclaims in exasperation. “And if it were up to Josephine, we probably would have walked all of damn Paris tonight,” her voice gets muffled at the end and he can only assume she’s thrown herself face first onto the nearest bed. “I cannot wait for a shower- No! A bath, definitely taking a long, hot bath.”

And now the image of Clarke Griffin in the bath, with just enough bubbles to cover up to her chest, has entered his mind. He shoves it away before anymore thoughts can accompany it.

This used to never be a problem. Sure, he’s always known that Clarke is attractive, but he has never been attracted to her. But ever since he broke up with Gina and she broke up with Lexa, Bellamy has been exceedingly aware of the fact that they have both remained single.

The last time this happened was right after Finn.

Bellamy shakes his head for good measure before responding. “You’re going to fall asleep in the tub and your roommate will find your prune-y, wrinkled body in the morning.” He cringes.  Apparently he wasn’t able to get the image of her completely out of his head.

Clarke scoffs, but he can tell that it’s in an exasperated but fond kind of way. “How is it that you manage to be a buzzkill from over 4,000 miles away?” she asks drily and then pauses before adding, “Actually, Josie would probably just leave me in there for the entire trip and never let on that something was up.”

He turns the key to lock his office behind him and heads for the staff lot. “Don’t worry, if you don’t call to check in, I’ll call the National Guard,” he teases.

“I know you would,” she says simply, like it’s a known fact.

Things have been a little weird after he became aware that they were both single. Mostly because, he’s pretty sure that Clarke has also come to realize it. When he turns to look at her, he often finds her already looking. Their innocent touches are now more frequent and linger just a bit longer.

Bellamy has come to realize that he doesn’t want to be single and the reason he doesn’t want to be single is because he wants his best friend to not be single with him.

There’s just never a right time to tell her.

“So, what did you do today?” he asks.

Despite the exhaustion and jetlag that’s surly setting in, Clarke jumps into an animated retelling of the flight and arriving at their hotel room just in time to change clothes and head back out to walk the streets of Paris to get their bearings before their tours officially start tomorrow.

“I’m a little disappointed that we’re doing the Louvre first thing tomorrow. I was hoping to be a little more alert for that.”

“Your coffee addiction hasn’t stopped just because you’re in another country,” he points out as he gets in his car.

She laughs, “Jeez, you are such an ass.”

He starts the car but doesn’t leave just yet; afraid the long distance call will drop out.

“What are you doing now?” he asks into the comfortable silence.

“Admiring the view,” she admits softly. “It really is gorgeous all lit up. Makes me want to dig out my sketchbook.”

“You have a week, Princess,” he chuckles. “Don’t screw up your jetlag even more by losing track of time in your drawings on the first night.”

She’s quiet again before confessing softer somehow, “It also makes me wish you were here.”

His heart clenches in his chest and he wills himself to sound normal. “Maybe next time,” he tries for teasing but it comes out almost wistful.

“Next time, hmmm?” Clarke hums. “You’d come to Paris with me?” And he’s sure she’s flirting with him.

“Well, maybe not for our first date,” he says, “But maybe, like, our fifth or something.”

Clarke’s quiet for a long time and he’s afraid he’s overstepped, misread the room. He’s about to take it back, play it off as a joke when she finally speaks.

“And what would a first date look like?” she asks with what he thinks is hope in her voice.

He swallows a couple of times. “Well,” he starts, “Since you’re already getting some of the best museum experiences, I’d probably settle for dinner and a movie. Something cheesy that’s playing at the dollar theater; where we’re the only ones there and can yell at the screen.”

She chuckles and his heart flutters, “We already do that, Bell. Quite frequently, actually.”

“Yeah, but if it’s a date then I’d get to kiss you at the end of it.”

“What? No making out during the movie?” she asks and he can picture how cute her face gets when she pouts.

A grin spreads across his face and he’s grateful no one can see how goofy he must look.

“We’ll have to make sure it’s a really bad movie.”

*

(+i)

Clarke rubs some moisturizer on her face before capping the tube and tossing it into her bag on the bed. After ensuring that everything she’s going to need for tomorrow is packed, she zips it up and grabs one of Bellamy’s hoodies to slip on over her clothes.

Ever since he picked her up from the airport when she got back from her trip to Paris, and she ran directly into his arms, giving the other people waiting quite a show, there always seems to be one laying around, waiting for her to find it. She assumes that he gets as much of a thrill out of her wearing them as she does.

She heads down the stairs of their townhouse, passing various pictures and artwork, and shoots Raven one more text not to forget to bring her dress to the venue tomorrow. She’s supposed to help her get ready in the morning along with her mother. In the meantime, Abby has sent a car to pick her up and take her to the hotel. Easier to get ready if she’s already there for the stylist… something else her mother insisted on paying for. No matter how many times Clarke told her she didn’t care what her hair looked like because she was marrying the love of her life.

Clarke locks up the house and greets the driver, slipping into the backseat. She intends to spend the ride lost in thought, going through the checklists that were running through her head.

Their engagement had been on the short side but she didn’t mind. They were both ready to get on with this next chapter in their lives.

Her phone is resting loosely in her hand, face down on her knee, when it starts to vibrate with an incoming call. She holds her breath for a second, praying it isn’t the florist or the caterers. But when she sees the photo of her and Bellamy from New Year’s flash on the screen, she can’t help but smile.

She taps the button and greets him with a sultry, “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey,” he says and she can tell he has a soft smile on his face, the one just for her. “You just leave the house?”

“Yep. On my way to the hotel now, so hopefully you haven’t forgotten anything because it’s too late now.”

“The most important thing is already on its way,” he responds with a teasing lilt.

Clarke can’t help the sharp laugh that escapes her lips, “Oh my god! You are such a sap!”

“I was referring to the ring, obviously, Princess.”

“Oh, obviously,” she says, mock serious.

They chuckle to themselves for a few minutes and she honestly can’t tell if the driver is rolling his eyes or thinks they’re being cute from hearing one side of the conversation.

Bellamy sobers up first only to let out a groan. “I hate whose ever idea this is,” he whines.

“Aren’t you the history professor? Shouldn’t you know where common traditions and such come from?”

He scoffs, “No, I mean I hate whichever of our friends is making us do this.”

The two of them haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning, him having been spirited off by his groomsmen while she was left to spend last night alone in their bed. And now they’re meant to go one more night without seeing each other.

To Bellamy’s point, Clarke isn’t altogether sure why this is a tradition anymore, nor why they are choosing to follow this particular one. She and Bellamy aren’t even that superstitious! And yet somehow they were talked into spending the days leading up to their wedding apart.

“Ah,” she answers him now, “That would be Raven and Miller. Although, I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with marriage traditions and has everything to do with getting back at us for making out in front of them so much.”

Bellamy scoffs again, “Well, jokes on them, because after tomorrow, I don’t ever have to stop kissing you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, “We’ll have to come up to eat at some point.”

The driver pulls up under the awning of the hotel and Clarke gets out and grabs her bag before he’s able to get out and grab it for her. She gives him a wave and a simple thank you before heading through the sliding doors.

“How’s your room?” she asks into the phone as she bypasses the check in desk, her mother having already checked her in and given her the key card to her room this morning when they were getting their nails done.

He heaves a deep sigh. “Lonely,” he answers as she steps into the elevator. From what Clarke knows from his texts, Miller dropped him off here last night and left him to his own devices. Apparently, the best man gets to sleep next to his husband but Bellamy wasn’t allowed to sleep next to his soon-to-be wife.

She makes a split second decision and presses a different button, jolting the elevator to stop sooner than intended. When she steps off she casually offers, “I could help with that.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles. “You going to describe for me what you’re wearing?”

“Hmm,” she hums as if she’s considering it. “I could do that… but I was more thinking that I could show you.”

Clarke stops in front of a door and gives it a nice rhythmic knock.

She doesn’t have to wait long before it’s opening and Bellamy is standing in front of her with his phone against his ear and a huge grin on his face.

She lowers her own phone from her ear, pressing the end button without looking.

“Hi, handsome,” she manages before he’s pulling her into his room.

[sparkles-and-trash]

South Park Main 5, Headcanons Masterpost  ~

Stan Marsh 

Looks: 

hair is actually nice and somewhat floppy naturally, but because he wears a hat most of the time, it’s usually flat and a little greasy kshdhsd

hair is that blue-ish black color

eyes is piercing ice blue 

skin is light, kind porcelain like, but he also tans really fast?

soft sweaters are the only thing he’ll wear from early autumn to late spring

in summer he’ll literally only wear band shirts and flannels lol 

Personality and General Trivia:

totally cares more for animals than most people let’s be real 

sometimes he struggles with seeing things from others point of view and ha can come across as a little self centered 

he is aware of it tho and tries to be better at it 

his instagram is filled with Sparky haha 

let’s Sparky sleep in his bed every single night even tho Sharon tells him not to 

likes reading and writing, has a tiny obsession with dark themes and Lovecraftian stuff 

he and Kenny volunteers at the local pet shelter and homeless shelter together 

the pet shelter was Stan’s idea, and the homeless shelter was Kenny’s 

wants to be edgy but is really just very soft

“Kyle said...” 

believes everything Kyle tells him lol 

enjoys video games a lot, prefers single player, story based ones tho 

also still enjoys boardgames a lot, and when the big group isn’t up for hit, he, Tweek, Jimmy, Butters and Cartman groups together to nerd it out 

has clinical depression, but is managing it with help of a therapist, his mom and friends

sometimes things gets pretty dark, but he is getting better at reaching out and asking for help in those times 

Friendships:

like I mentioned above, he struggles a bit with seeing things for other’s point of view 

but he is aware of his flaws and is trying to be better

can get a little bit caught up in his own drama, but listens when his friends tells him he needs to get over himself 

will always stand up for his friends, especially if they’re not there to do it themselves 

when he starts getting closer with Butters in early high school he gets really upset when he realizes how much he gets shit-talked 

enjoys spending time with his friends individually, probably the most of the group, and takes initiative to do so a lot 

which is very important to Kenny, since he tends to feel a little overlooked sometimes, and it makes their friendship really strong 

same with Butters, except Butters doesn’t usually doesn’t mind mainly being in a group, but the first few times and Stan hangs out alone it’s obvious he really appreciates it 

Family:

daddy issues 

sorry I don’t make the rules lol 

has a decent relationship with Sharon tho

she’s a good mom 

and he wants to be a good son 

Shelly is still kinda angry and scary

she keeps the “only I can beat you up bro” attitude and there is secretly mutual respect there

but we don’t talk about that!!! 

Ships and relationships:

okay so my main ships for him are stutters (Butters), stenny (Kenny) and Style (Kyle) 

my fav is stutters tho 

I usually head canon him as bi or pan, but as with everyone in SP, I’m open to different interpretations if different Au’s and stories! 

I just really like the idea of them learning to balance facing their issues AND celebrate the good things in life together 

I def think he can be a bit insecure in relationships, struggling with feeling like he’s not enough, and would need a partner that naturally will be affirming and positive 

that’s not to say he’s super needy or clingy, he’s just a bit insecure 

but I really think he would truly be a good partner 

he’s caring, kind and very appreciative 

which is again why I really like him with Butters offh 

Kenny McCormick 

Looks:

sandy blonde hair that’s always messy and floppy/softly curled 

teeth is kind of crooked due to lack of funds for braces 

his front teeth are kinda big and has a significant gap 

lots and lots of freckles man 

all over his face, shoulders, back, hands and arms 

tans fast 

I actually really like him with brown eyes? like, soulful deep brown eyes 

but also very, very clear blue ones, like almost unnatural (yes that’s a mysterious thing) 

medium tall 

wears his hoodies, usually with the hood up, no matter if it’s freezing or a heatwave

not conventionally attractive, but charming looking lol 

likes to wear some eyeliner every now and then

and nail polish, but it’s like super clumsily put on and always chipped

Personality and General Trivia:

falls asleep in class a lot, but always seems to know the answer if the teacher asks him something

also has decent grades

I think he’s way smarter than he gives himself credit for, both socially and school wise 

the therapist of the groups 

actually, the therapist of the whole school 

knows a lot of secrets due to this, but he always, ALWAYS keeps them 

I see him as very friendly and approachable, but terribly hard to get close with

lots and lots of walls, man

very much an observer type? 

quietly stays in the background if that’s an option

but if he is talked too, or feels like he has something to really contribute to in a conversation he’ll jump in and be comfortable talking and taking up space if he is with friends or people he knows 

if not, he’ll just stay in the background with that.... look on his face that just makes you know he knows more than he says 

works at Tweek’s parents coffee shop, is kinda close with Tweek because of this 

zones out a lot 

“…what?” 

can fall asleep anywhere

Friendships:

is pretty close friends with Butters! 

Butters used to have a little crush on him, but Kenny didn’t find out until years later lol 

he also has a lot of patience with Cartman compared to the others

which is why Cartman actually cares when Kenny sets him in his place 

likes learning new things, and does that with Kyle a lot! 

both school and homework stuff, and things like cooking and other homey stuff, the two of them really bond with this 

him and Stan volunteer together, and I already mentioned, and that time means a lot to Kenny 

since he works with Tweek, the two of them are pretty close and good friends 

is the one of the main boys who gets along the best with Craig and those guys

actually hangs out with them from time to time, so does Butters

it low-key drives the others crazy

Family:

I often like to think his parents would keep having these bursts where they try to get their shit together? 

and it’s slow, and one step back and two backwards, but the fact that they’re trying at all means a lot to the kids after years of them... not 

I can also see Kevin stepping up and taking more charge, Kevin get’s way too little love in this fandom! 

Kenny usually never fights with his sibs

but when he does it’s with Karen, usually because he’s worried about her and it’s nor pretty

none of them can stay mad at each other for long tho

Kevin trying to be all “big brother” and kinda failing because he is chaotic, but he really wants to do right and Karen and Kenny knows that and appreciates it 

Ships and relationships:

ohhh kay here we go, unpopular opinions ahead! 

first, my main Kenny ships are Tokenny (Token x Kenny) and Stenny 

rn Tokenny is my main, I love the potential dynamics, both with their personalties and backgrounds and families 

I tend to head canon him as pan or bisexual, and demiromatic 

I know the demiromantic part is... controversial, at best 

but hear me out! 

I see him being very comfortable with discussing sexual stuff, and being attracted to someone physically is never something he feels awkward or bad about 

but when it comes to more emotional connections, he is way more awkward and fumbling 

for those who doesn’t know, a demiromatic person (like myself! surprise!) won’t have crushes or romantic feelings for someone they don’t already have some form of emotional bond with! We can still feel sexual attraction tho, and some of us are comfortable with casual sexual encounters (like me!) and others are not, and both are very valid! 

I usually have two ways of writing him 

either him being comfortable having casual sexual interactions, but struggling with the romantic aspect and having to figure out how this works for him 

OR 

him having some trauma related to debating sexually very early, thinking he was all ready and it was just sex, but getting his emotions caught up in it and being very heartbroken and confused, and therefore having issues with being intimate with people for a while 

I mix them up depending on the story, but the first one is usually my go-to! 

Kyle Broflovski 

Looks:

he still covers his hair a lot, either with hats or hoods? 

because I really see him being insecure about it 

it’s a medium sort of red, and like, really curly and fluffy 

not frizzy, big like... big 

I usually give him green eyes, but I also could see him with a light brown or hazel! 

some light freckles on his face that only really shows up if he’s spent time in the sun 

pretty tall, kind of lanky 

d i m p l e s 

Personality and General Trivia:

big nerd energy

in every way, board games, video games, loves school, like genuinely, enjoys studying for tests, loves fantasy books, the longer and more complicated the better 

co-captain of the debate team with Wendy 

is good with arguments unless he gets too passionate on the subject, or if someone knows his weak points and uses them to tick him off

it’s usually Cartman  

his mom wants him to go to an Ivy League but honestly he just wants to go to the same one in Denver as Stan, Butters and Cartman are planning on, and now that Kenny is also considering it he seriously think he’ll die if all his friends go to the same college without him

he struggles with FOMO, which is kind of an issue since he’s a busy guy, and some of his friends are not lol 

if any one of these kids become a jock, it’s def Kyle with his basketball change my mind- 

but not like, a letterman wearing fuckboy type of jock, but like, is obsessed with his sport and his team and works really hard to do well type of jock

Friendships:

very loyal 

he and Stan walks Sparky together at least twice a week, just to be sure they’re always caught up with each other even when they’re busy with school, sports and dating

yeah they’re still super best friends 

when they started high school he got closer to Wendy as she’s also on the debate team, in all of his AP classes and they share a lot of the same interests  

they’re still good friends, but nothing more

the first time Cartman got really drunk was at a party freshman year, and at the time everyone was pretty fed up with him, and he ended up crying and Kyle found him, and Cartman thinks Kyle doesn’t remember, but he does 

that was the first night Kyle really kinda understood why Cartman was the way he was, and even though he still thinks he’s a dick at times, he tries to remember everyone have a story, and to give people time 

but he often gets too riled up to remember that lol 

good pals with Jimmy, they share a lot of interests in fantasy stuff and have the same humor 

he also start to go along well with Craig when they are around middle school age, but they’re both kinda too stubborn to admit they’re friends until a year later lol  

Family:

even tho Sheila is pretty overbearing and can be too much, he is a mommy’s boy deep down 

tense relationship with his dad 

enjoys cooking, so that’s where he spends a lot of time with his mom! 

tries his best to keep up with Ike and his life

sometimes he is a tad cringy when doing so, but Ike appreciates the gesture 

Ike is pretty confident and strong in himself so he doesn’t care if Kyle is a bit awkward lol 

the type of brothers who genuinely enjoys spending time together 

Ships and relationships:

I like Style, Kyman, K2 and Kyvid! 

I think he’d be a late bloomer when it comes to love and dating

struggles with opening up and letting himself feel these things 

I often think of him as biromantic asexual, but I’m not always set on it! 

he’d enjoy traditional dinner and a movie type of dates a lot, such a nerd 

Eric Cartman 

Looks:

keeps his hair cut pretty short and styled

has heterochromia iridium (different colored eyes), one blue and one brown

also he has a real nice smile when it’s a genuine one

which is rare but like 

it happens 

is kinda insecure about his weight and tries to compensate with always having the newest stuff and pretending not to care

sometimes tries to diet in secret

he isn’t huge anymore, but is still sort of broad, and isn’t skinny, but like..

kinda bulky, if he wears the right type of clothes it’s hard to see if he’s chubby or buff

but he is def chubby 

Personality and General Trivia:

spends way to much time on reddit arguing with randoms

angry gamer, will call you a slur on voice chat 

after almost getting dropped by his friends in middle school he tries a little harder to be a more decent person

still an asshole at heart, but like, an asshole who sometimes cares about some people 

always tells people that’s he’s seen that meme before, even when he hasn’t 

nothing is ever his fault and the only ones who can get him to admit he’s wrong are Kenny and, very, very rarely, Kyle

he wears supreme hoodies for a full year of High School and stands in line all night for the new ones and never shuts up about how he is the first in South Park to have the new stuff 

Kenny finds it hilarious to buy the fake supreme stickers and put then on his own worn out hoodies

Kyle makes it his main goal in life to put things (everything from used gym socks to old food he finds in his locker) in Cartmans hoods and see how long it takes for him to notice 

can’t handle alcohol, is constantly being teased for it

sloppy drunk lol 

one of the main reasons the other bothers with Cartman trough middle school, when he is at his worst, is because of his big basement, the old Coon Lair, who got a big renovation around 7th grade and is an awesome, private hangout spot with a big TV and wifi and gaming systems

Friendships:

constantly says he hates his friends but would die if everyone left him 

is secretly terribly jealous of Kyle, both his closeness to Stan, his basketball skills, his grades and his family

but they had that thing in Freshman year when Kyle found him drunk, alone and sad, and Cartman himself barely remembers it, and doesn’t think Kyle does because he never mentioned it 

but he does

so much tension there, but also co-dependency 

sees Kenny and Butters as his best friends, and knows deep down neither of them feel that way about him and it secretly kills him 

is in the same board game group with Stan 

is low-key terrified of Tweek lol 

Family:

big mommy issues 

but also very protective of her

I really enjoy the AU/headcanon that Liane marries Clyde’s dad 

it’s not like, the only version I like, but I put it in as many au’s and works of mine as I can 

I def think both boys would be mortified right away 

but Clyde comes around first, because he really wants a brother, even if that brother have to be Cartman 

Cartman would never admit it, but after some time he really starts to see Clyde as a brother and genuinely cares for him 

Ships and relationships:

I mainly see Cartman as gay 

sometimes I start of AU’s and stories with him not being out to himself or anyone else tho, I think that whole journey for him will be very interesting and help him grow as a person 

I def think he’d have a few girlfriends before he comes out tho? 

he can be very charming when he wants too yanno 

my only Cartman ship is kyman atm, but I’m def open to explore more of

Leopold Butters Stotch 

Looks:

I really really really like T A L L Butters??? 

like tall and gangly and adorable 

I know it’s very popular to head canon that he bleaches his hair, but I like to think he has very light blond air naturally! 

keeps it short on the sides and longer on top, with cute ass curls 

soft sky blue eyes 

also dyes his bangs light blue in high school!! 

Pete the goth helps him because he is a pro of dying bangs 

I like to think he’d be into pastel grunge, and keep his love for Hello Kitty and Sanrio etc, but still be a bit more... edgy? 

Personality and General Trivia:

one of those people who’s friendly with almost everyone

but that doesn’t mean he’s friends with them, yanno? 

gets drunk from one wine cooler 

loves the theater and is in the drama club, but likes to be behind the stage, not on it 

wants to be a director one day 

watches Netflix on his phone every single time he has any time to spare, because he’s always binging a show

is usually pretty positive and kind, gives people the benefit of the doubt 

but can be very stubborn, and if he has decided he dislikes or doesn’t trust someone, it’s almost impossible to change his mind 

Friendships:

Butters put up with Cartman for so long because he genuinely thinks he can be fun when he’s not horrible, and he really tries his best to believe in people

he was also the first one to forgive him after the others cut him off 

a very loyal and fun friend

takes a lot of initiative to do stuff, and loves hosting movie nights 

thinks of these boys as his closest friends, but is also real close to Wendy, Bebe, Jimmy and Tweek

Family:

I just hate Stephen so much you guys

so tbh I usually like to just... have Linda leave him, or straight up kill him off oops 

I know Linda is terrible too, I do, but I think she could possibly have a moment of realization if something happens like Butters potentially being taken away? 

idk I’m not gonna go too deep into this, I know it’s such a heavy topic and I don’t wanna seem like I just ignore it, but I personally don’t usually include Stephen directly in my stories, and this is why, I hope y’all understand and respect that! 

Ships and relationships:

my main Butters ship is Stutters (Stan x Butters) 

I mentioned a lot why in Stan’s headcanons? 

but idk, I just really think they’d balance each other well, and could have a very interesting and cute relationship! 

I usually headcanons him as pan or gay, and genderqueer, but I’m open for other interpretations too! 

he does date a little bit, but have never been in a real relationship and isn’t stressing about it! 

he did have a pretty huge crush on (a very unaware) Kenny during middle school, but then they started hanging out a lot more and became really close and Butters didn’t really bring it much thought?

that’s until Cartman gets jealous and throws out a “what are you guys dating and fucking and being gay huh???” and Butters mind immediately goes to “omg ew no he’s like my brother!” 

aaand that’s how Butters realized he was over his crush 

they two of them stay close friends tho, Kenny makes Butters laugh and helps him be more sure of himself and Butters helps Kenny remember that they’re still just kids and should have fun and be good

[sagasofazeria]

The First of Many Journeys

Song of the Seven Suns, Part 4

Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @hellishhin @talesfromaurea @thelaughingstag

content warnings: slavery mention/discussion of slavery, descriptions of violence/murder

word count: ~ 5300 (it’s a long one)

“You in?”

Jetra, Faulkron, Fuego, and Shakari were standing around a table, under the shade of a large tree, Jetra’s map laid out on top of it with their destination marked. The bard was looking at Fuego and Shakari, awaiting their answer.

Shakari had already made up her mind. “I will go with you.”

Fuego looked at Shakari briefly, then back at the other two. “Same. Fuck those slavers, let’s do this.”

Shakari was glad to hear Fuego would be joining them, she quite enjoyed his company. Plus, she felt more comfortable in general traveling with people who didn’t like slavers. The ones she’d fought in the deserts of her home were always ruthless and violent, and they would fester like poison anywhere they went. She would be more than happy to stop such people from hurting anyone else.

As her mind wandered to her past experiences, her eyes caught one of the other mercenaries, Alejandro, leaning against a wall not far away. Shakari had seen him talking to Faulkron the previous day, and she assumed they knew each other. He was staring somewhere past the group, deep in thought. Shakari raised a scaled brow, watching him for a moment as he appeared to make up his mind about something, and strode forward, his eyes shifting to meet theirs.

“Buenos días, friends. I couldn’t help but overhear a little, have you found a contract?”

Faulkron’s eyes flicked over to Alejandro, surprise crossing his features at first, followed by a smile that was quickly smothered.

“Oh! Yes, we have. Ahem. Yeah, we’re headed to Koretion to deal with a group of slavers that are causing problems near there. Why?”

Shakari saw something in Alejandro’s eyes harden at the mention of the slavers, and his smiled faltered slightly. Something in his eyes she recognized, an immediate hostility, probably not unlike her own reaction. But there was something else there too, something deeper, a pain she could not decipher.

“I see.”

Fuego spoke up, grinning. “Yeah, we’re gonna fuck ‘em up. They don’t stand a chance.”

Alejandro chuckled slightly. “If it is not too late, I would like to come with you. I would take a great joy in getting rid of those assholes as well, if you’d have me?”

Jetra smiled, and Faulkron looked to the others briefly before turning back to Alejandro. “We’d gladly take another blade.”

Alejandro smiled at Faulkron. “Great. When are we leaving?”

Faulkron gestured around to the group. “As soon as we can. We’re already ready, most of us travel light.”

Alejandro smiled. “So do I. I do have to do one thing first, but I will meet you when I am ready.”

“Okay then, cool. I’ll be at the southern gate, once we’re all there we’ll go,” Jetra said as she grabbed her map.

“Fantástico. I will not be long.”

•••

Overall, Alejandro was pretty happy with how it all went. Was his decision impulsive? Yes. But he would be lying if he said it didn’t excite him. Now to finalize it, and be free of this city.

He strode his way toward Elikon’s quarters, dodging through the other stirring mercenaries as he went. He pushed aside the patterned curtain and walked in, attempting to hide the thrill he was feeling. “Elikon!”

Within a few seconds, the massive woman ducked through the doorway from her personal chambers. She smiled seeing him, and finished off a cup of water, placing it on her desk as she stood across from him. “Alejandro! Good morning, how are you?”

“I am doing fine, commander.”

“Good to hear. What did you need?”

Alejandro took a deep breath before he spoke. “I am leaving.”

“Leaving? Like on a contract, or leaving the company?”

“Leaving the company. With all due respect, I am in need of a change of pace.”

“Ah, that’s what it is. I understand. Ya know, you’re young, you got a lot of time to figure yourself out. Just make sure to take care of yourself, ain’t nobody been a hero without doin’ that.”

“Of course. I will.”

“Then may your road be gentle and the winds blow in your favor, Alejandro. Good luck, and goodbye.”

“Thank you, Elikon. You as well.” Handing over his medallion that signified his membership in the Icaon mercenaries, he walked out of the building and headed to pack his things, and then started for the south gate. It was time for something new.

•••

Faulkron didn’t realize he and Alejandro would be going to the same place after the little group meeting, so he waited for him to leave again before going into Elikon’s quarters.

As he pushed aside the curtain, still slightly sore from the fight the day before, he saw Elikon standing over her desk, closing a small wooden box full of medallions like the ones the mercenaries wore. She turned back around at the sound of his entry, grinning at the sight of him. “Ah, Faulkron. Did you sleep well after yesterday?”

“I did.”

“Good, good. What brings you visiting then? Did ya change your mind about joining up? There’s a new vacancy.”

“Unfortunately, no. I just wanted some... advice, I guess.”

“Oh, really now? What sort of advice do you need?”

Faulkron thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, but Elikon seemed to be a knowledgeable woman, and he was still very new here. It had seemed like a good idea to talk to her before he just ran off into a new land.

“Just general things. About mercenary work, or any dangerous monsters or people I should avoid here? I don’t know... what do you tell new recruits?”

Elikon paused for a moment, scanning his face. Faulkron started to wonder if he should leave, if this was a bad idea, but before he could turn around to leave she spoke. When she did, it was a lot quieter and less energetic than she had before.

“There are many, many monsters in this world. Some of them are just shitty people, some of them are terrifying behemoths that can rip you limb from limb. This profession is a dangerous one. No one just does this for fun. We’ve all got our issues, I see it in every person that comes through here. In the others who you spoke to, even in you. All I have to say, as I always have, is take care of yourself. No amount of skill can save you when you’re staring down death if you don’t take care of yourself. I’ve seen what happens. People don’t come back.”

Faulkron nodded, caught off-guard by the sudden intensity. He started to back away, still processing what she’d said. “Right. Okay. Um, thank you for the... advice.”

“Good luck wherever you’re going, Faulkron.”

“Thanks.”

As he walked out, he pondered Elikon’s words. In the end, he figured she was probably right. If he died from something stupid, what would be the point in all this? He knew it was dangerous to be a mercenary, he was ready for that. Taking care of himself wasn’t that hard, really. He didn’t need much. Food, water, sleep. Even then sleep wasn’t a big deal. He could skip on it if necessary. He could deal with all of those things. Other than that, all he needed to do was keep traveling and fighting and training, and he’d make a name for himself. He was sure of it. Now, he supposed, all there was left to do was to begin.

He made his way over to the southern gate, stopping by the market for extra food on the way. He had to admit, he already liked the fruits and new dishes in Leinos far more than what they’d had in the small town he’d grown up in.

When he arrived, he could see the others had already gathered, except Alejandro. Before very long, Alejandro came walking towards them as well, and they all gathered themselves a moment, before setting off on the dusty road.

According to Jetra, it was about 7 days’ travel south to Koretion.

As the sun traced its path across the sky that first afternoon, it found the five companions lost in thoughts of the path ahead. Before too long, however, a conversation was struck up, and the long hours became that much more bearable.

With the sun beginning to set, the 5 stopped for the day, setting up a small camp off the side of the road, within a copse of small trees. As they all settled down, the two moons and distant worlds became visible in the clear night sky, shedding a dim light across their resting forms.

Once the other three had gone to sleep, leaving Faulkron and Alejandro on watch, Faulkron began to brush his hands through the long grass. As he looked around, he could see the vibrantly colored flowers and grasses let their hues show even in only the soft light of the night. He’d always been able to see through even the thickest shadows, a benefit of being a dark elf, and so he always found the night far more striking in its beauty than the day. As he looked around, many of the plants and flowers were unfamiliar to him, but he would be lying if he said feeling land again wasn’t comforting after long months at sea.

As the night went on, a question began to form in the back of his mind. It was silent, and he let himself think for a while. However, not having an answer, he decided he’d rather talk about something than nothing, and so he quietly shifted himself over to Alejandro. Alejandro was staring down in the direction of the road and out to the horizon, absentmindedly stroking his chin as he stoked the gently glowing embers of their fire.

“Hey, Alejandro.”

“Hola, ¿qué tal?”

“I was only wondering... what made you come with us? You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d ask. It... let’s just say I find you interesting and I hate slavers. It was convenient.”

Faulkron studied his features in the dim light. He couldn’t tell what to think of being called “interesting” whatever that was supposed to mean, but he liked it, and he certainly wasn’t complaining that Alejandro had come along.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“So am I, Faulkron.”

There was a twinkle in Alejandro’s green eyes that caught Faulkron’s gaze. This was something more to him, that was for sure. Their eyes stayed locked, perhaps a little longer than they should have, but with his question answered, as well as some new questions to boot, Faulkron thanked Alejandro and turned his eyes back onto the surrounding landscape.

With the dawn of the second day, the group continued their journey along the road . As they got further from Corias, the road began to wind and branch, until it was barely a path through the high grasses and brush. Jetra was confident in her navigation, though, and so they followed her onward.

The third day came and went, heavy and hot with sun. It was unfortunately timed, as the road passed through miles of plains that day, and few trees were there to offer their shade.

Faulkron was fine with a bit of heat, the summers in the dry hills and steppes of the Unterras weren’t exactly mild. What he did resent was the brightness of the sun. He found that as he traveled more and more, he was left with headaches when the days had been too bright. It wasn’t enough to keep him down, but it was certainly annoying. He suspected he might have to suffer such a headache today.

Among all of them, even Fuego, Shakari seemed the most comfortable as they traveled that morning. Their gaze seemed unaffected by the blistering sun, and they strode through the heat as if it were a cool breeze.

Seeing the struggle of the others, she seemed to realize her oversight, and explained, “Oh. Oh no. My apologies, my people have lived in a sweltering desert for thousands of years. These—“ she pointed to obsidian-black scales that lined her eyes “—help me see regardless of sun. And my scales release heat far easier than your skin. We have many ways of keeping cool, including for outsiders. I can help you all, if you wish.”

Four sweaty faces eagerly nodded back at them. With Shakari’s help, the rest of the day was far more manageable.

Hours passed, the orange sun dipped down past the horizon, and another day came to a close.

The fourth day of travel on the path was a little more comfortable, and the sky was painted with colorful clouds that broke up the sunlight as it shone down on the five travelers. The trees began to increase slightly in frequency, occasionally crowning the hills the group crossed with their roots and canopies.

In between navigating with her map and leading the group, Jetra occasionally looked to the sky, humming a tune as she looked to the heavens.

Faulkron, walking beside her, became curious after hearing the same notes a few times. “What song is that?”

Jetra was startled out of her reverie. “Oh! It’s just something my parents taught me. I always think of it when the sky’s like this.”

“That’s cool. What’s it about?”

Jetra laughed, smiling fondly. “It’s an old song about an angel who became enamored with our world. She fell in love with the beauty of the sky especially, and eventually gave up her home in the celestial realms to live here. It’s a favorite of mine.”

“Oh. Interesting. I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Yeah, it’s quite the story. Do you want to hear it?”

“Sure.”

Smiling with barely constrained excitement, Jetra handed off the map to Faulkron, grabbing her lyre. As they all walked, Jetra began to play a soft melody, and then she began to sing. The words rolled off of her lips with practiced ease, and her eyes closed as she sang, her voice echoing around them. She sang with a deep passion and energy, and the other four fell silent as they listened, enraptured by the performance, almost like magic.

That night, as they all stared at the stars, they felt a comfort in their hearts. Faulkron swore he could still hear the gentle sounds of soft music lulling them to rest. They all slept soundly that night, as if they were lying on the softest of blankets.

The sun’s light cast through the clouds and tree branches the next morning, and fell across the rocks and hills like liquid gold.

As the companions continued their journey that day, the ups and downs of the hills got steeper, and the rocks and trees got bigger and more frequent again. The road got even rougher, but Jetra assured the others this meant they were getting closer, and so they continued forward. With the onset of evening, the clouds that had streaked across the sky collected, and the smell of rain pervaded the air.

As the summer storm rolled in that evening, most of the companions hurried to find cover. For a while though, Shakari simply stood in the rain, taking deep breaths and letting the water run down her scales. Before too long though, she too huddled around Fuego’s magically fueled flames. In time, the pattering of the rain soothed them all to sleep.

What little could be seen of the dawn on the sixth day shone down in rays of light across the dew-coated landscape. Alejandro and Faulkron woke up lying against one another by what remained of the fire. There was a brief moment of awkward realization before they scrambled away from each other.

Faulkron cleared his throat and started grabbing for his things. “Ah. Well. Better get ready for the day, you know? Gotta be, um, prepared.”

“Sí, sí, of course.”

Faulkron stayed extra focused on where they were going that day. Suddenly, studying the rocks was preferable to focusing on the man walking a few paces back.

They kept up their trek, and by afternoon the clouds had cleared from the previous night. As the sun began to set, it illuminated a lone cart coming up the path toward the group. A merchant was heading in their direction as night began to fall.

She raised waved as she approached their fire, calling out to the group “Hello there, adventurers! Mind if I share your fire?”

As she stepped into the light, she pulled her horse & cart along behind her. She was short and dark skinned, her hair shaved close to her head. She had long pointed ears draped with thin chains, and shimmering irises, belying elvish ancestry.

There was a shared look among the group, but before anything could be said, Fuego waved his hand to the fire, causing it to burn slightly brighter. “Of course!” he beamed. “We’d be glad to have you.”

“Wonderful!” said the woman, her ears rotating downward with elation as she smiled.

They spent the rest of the evening getting friendly with the merchant, who revealed her name to be Aranya. While Fuego and Shakari admired the jewelry she sold, Jetra, Alejandro, and Faulkron entertained her by the fire.

Eventually, as the night wore on, the adventurers began to head to sleep. When only Fuego and Faulkron remained awake for their watch, Aranya’s demeanor changed. She looked to the dark woods and hills with suspicion and fear. Fuego and Faulkron exchanged a look. Fuego walked over to Aranya, standing in front of her as she sat against her cart wrapped in a blanket, concern on his face.

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m just... worrying. I mean, you’re adventurers, right? I’m sure you know about the bandits.”

Fuego’s mouth split into a grin. “We do! We’re here to get rid of them.”

“Oh, oh that’s great! Thank the gods. I’m sure you already know, but... they are not good people. Dangerous. Vicious. Greedy. I left Koretion because I was worried they would come for me. That’s half of why I wanted to camp with you all, it seemed safer than sleeping alone. They prowl these hills all the time, especially at night. And, ah, my thanks for your protection, of course.”

“Well, ya know. Least we could do.”

“Thank you.”

As the merchant laid down to sleep, Fuego made his way back over to Faulkron.

“Damn, these people are bad. We gotta get rid of ‘em.”

“Yeah Fuego, that’s why we’re here.”

“I know, I know. She just... she’s terrified. These slavers are no joke.”

With the final shreds of sunlight long gone, the night wore on, and the fire died out, leaving them in darkness to await what the next day would bring.

When the group had awoke and Aranya had headed on northward, Faulkron and Fuego shared what the merchant had told them.

Alejandro, after hearing of Aranya’s fear, set his jaw and gripped the hilt of one of his blades. “We’ll just have to keep a keen eye,” he said, his eyes scanning the surrounding scenery.

“Agreed,” Jetra nodded once to the group, strapping her sword on her back. “Be ready to kick ass.”

Weapons sharp and at the ready, the five companions pushed on through the rocky hills. As the hills got steeper and more crags of rock began to block their path, the trees began to thicken. All Faulkron could think was that it really was a perfect place for bandits to operate, with all the places to hide and set up ambushes.

Later that afternoon, as the group followed the road, it began to lead down between two rocky hillside outcroppings, craving through the terrain like a miniature canyon. Jetra and Faulkron looked at each other briefly, the meaning of their expressions clear. Now this was the perfect place for an ambush. Before Fuego could march forward without care, Faulkron put a hand in front of him. “Wait! Not yet. Rushing in there looks like a great way to get killed if we’re not careful.”

Faulkron scanned the trees and rocks, looking for any signs of movement. Jetra seemed to be doing the same, and it seemed as if everyone was holding their breath. As Faulkron kneeled closer to the ground, he thought back to his time wandering the wilder lands around his home in his spare time, or tracking down missing livestock. Searching the brush and rock, he found what he was looking for. With a bit of cautious satisfaction, he pointed it out to the rest of the group. “Multiple somethings have come this way, and recently. Hard to tell, but they’re big enough to be bandits.”

“Well, if they’d seen us already, I think they would have reacted, so we might still have the element of surprise,” Alejandro whispered, drawing one of his swords.

“True. So what’s the plan then?” Faulkron asked, looking to Jetra as he drew his own blade.

“I can sneak around and help take them out before they see us,” Fuego offered, grinning as he drew his scimitar and his fingertips began to glow with heat.

Jetra scanned the area another time before responding, “Good idea. Careful with the fire though, I’d rather not be burned alive before we even get there.”

Fuego, suddenly solemn, paused. “You have my word.”

Faulkron raised an eyebrow, but now wasn’t the time.

Taking a deep breath, Jetra turned to the rest of them. “I can be a distraction. I’ll pretend to be a cheery singing traveler. My music is my also my magic, but they won’t realize the difference ‘til it’s too late. Fuego can go along the hillsides, and once he gives me the signal, I’ll head in. What about you three?”

Faulkron thought for a moment. “I’ll go around the other side from Fuego and wait to surprise them. Ambush them before they can ambush us.”

Shakari hummed a low growl, “I will accompany you, Jetra.”

“And I will join you,” Alejandro said, looking at Faulkron.

“Great. Let’s do this.”

•••

As Fuego crept forward, he couldn’t help but feel a little worried. He had to be very careful with his aim. The last thing he wanted to do was start a forest fire and let his new friends down.

Before long, he spotted the first bandit hiding in the brush. They were waiting with daggers in hand, ready to leap down onto any unsuspecting travelers. Well, surprise surprise, the travelers were suspecting, and this bandit had no idea.

As Fuego moved closer, he could make out more of the details of the bandit. They wore a helmet with a gray crest on top, and they even had a length of chain around their torsos. Fuego nearly scoffed. Seemed like a bit much for a bunch of bandits to him.

He quietly climbed up into the treetops, blade out and glowing hot as he charged it with warmth. He was once again glad for his size, as he wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if he was as big and unwieldy as the others. As he crept over the bandit’s head, he turned back to where the others were waiting. He lit a small fire in his hand as he perched on the branch, willing it dimmer so it was barely more than a candlelight. He hoped it was enough for them to see.

He watched with a smile as within seconds two figures began walking down the path. Fuego watched the bandit’s head turn, and took his chance. He dropped from the trees, landing in front of the bandit.

“Boo.”

The surprised expression on their face never turned into a shout, as Fuego’s blade slashed across their throat. Before the bandit could try anything, they collapsed to the ground.

At the same time, music began to echo through the trees.

As Jetra and Shakari walked along the path in false obliviousness, Fuego could see about 8 more bandits peek out from hiding spots along the road, weapons ready.

He felt a thrill rush through him at the realization that they had no idea what was about to happen, and let loose a woop as he leaped up, swung from a branch, and launched himself over the road next to the nearest bandit, blasts of fiery magic screaming from his hand into their chest as he soared, sending the now smoldering bandit tumbling backwards, unmoving.

At the sudden noise, all the bandits turned in Fuego’s direction. This proved to be a mistake, as before they could do anything, two more figures rushed them from the foliage. A swing from Faulkron’s sword sent one tumbling down onto the road, blood scattering on the rocks. There were two quick flashes of Alejandro’s blades as he danced through the trees, and one more bandit collapsed, blood pouring from their neck and stomach.

On the road below, Jetra’s music changed. She began to hum, and the tone amplified, and became deeper until it was barely audible. Fuego could feel the vibrations in his bones, and then beneath his feet, as the ground began to tremble. The rocky side of the road began to rumble, and a mini landslide tumbled down into the path, crushing the bandit who’d been lying there and sending 3 more of the bandits after them. The bandits who had just fallen started to get up, but as they looked up, their gazes were met by blue draconic eyes. Shakari looked down on the bandits as they started trying to run away, and the smell of storms filled the air. Lightning crackled along her teeth, scales, and horns, before blasting out of her mouth with a roar, blasting two of the terrified bandits onto the ground, lightly smoking. Fuego only grinned as his hair fell back down after the static, having seen the Shakari’s draconic nature in action before.

The one bandit who had avoided Shakari’s dragon-breath scrambled for the rocks in a desperate attempt to get back to the cover of the forest, climbing desperately up the newly made rockslide. Before they could get anywhere, though, Fuego threw a bolt of fire that knocked them back off the rocks, their leather armor burnt and charred as they cried out and then fell silent.

Faulkron ran towards the final two bandits, bringing his sword around toward the closest one. The sound of clashing metal rang out as the bandit, scared shitless as they were, managed to block his strike. Unfortunately, that left them vulnerable to Alejandro’s blades. The first sword pierced the armor of the bandit’s back, and the bandit looked at Faulkron with a shocked expression, before their throat was slit from behind, and their body tossed to the ground. Alejandro flicked blood off of his blade and winked at Faulkron, before turning to face the final bandit.

The bandit looked around at their fallen fellows, pissed themself, and promptly turned tail and fled. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t get very far.

Shakari leaped up onto the outcropping, climbing over the rockslide. They began chanting under their breath as arcane lightning charged along their blade and magical symbols began to swirl in the air around them. As they swung, an arc of lightning lashed out, and a boom of thunder like the crack of a whip sounded, sending the bandit flying into the underbrush. The symbols that had swirled in the air around Shakari faded, and the forest quieted once again.

•••

Faulkron suddenly felt far smaller than he had a few minutes ago. As he had watched the others unleash their magic, he realized the power he’d just witnessed. He didn’t fully know what to make of it yet, but these were good allies to have, judging by what just happened. He hadn’t seen this much magic happen at once, and certainly not in combat. It was... new.

Quieting his mind, he followed as the group navigated through the cascaded rocks, down to the path once more. As the group started to move the bodies off of the road and search the area for further clues, Faulkron stopped to look at Alejandro.

Alejandro had been silent since the battle, his face contemplative and his eyes intense. When Faulkron turned to him now, he was searching one of the bandits’ bodies in an almost frantic fashion. Faulkron watched for a few seconds as Alejandro searched, before Alejandro found whatever it was and quickly grabbed it from the corpse. Faulkron watched as Alejandro’s face fell, then steeled. Before Faulkron could get any closer, Alejandro stood up, his grip tight on his blade and holding the thing in his other hand. Either not noticing or not acknowledging Faulkron, he dragged the body further into the foliage, dropped it roughly, and walked off.

Gathered once more in the road, the group paused for a moment, looking at each other.

“That was great, guys. What a fight! We got them good,” grinned Fuego, breaking the silence.

“That we did,” Alejandro agreed.

“Well, we can celebrate the first step to getting rid of these guys tonight when we camp. I brought booze,” offered Jetra, a wide smile on her face.

Faulkron laughed despite himself. “Good idea. Let’s, you know, actually make camp first, though. There might be more nearby, so we should probably leave.”

Shakari nodded, gesturing to an area above the road. “I found some tracks up there. Might be from these ones or others. This place is probably an ambush hotspot. Regardless, it’s a bad place to be stuck in.”

“Exactly. Let’s get going, shall we?”

For the rest of the afternoon, they moved gently along the road, keeping a careful eye for any further ambushes. By the time night fell, Jetra assured them all that Koretion was only about half a day’s travel away. She was also significantly buzzed by the time night fell, having busted out the wine an hour or so beforehand. As they sat around their fire that night, flasks of wine in hand, Jetra grinned and stood suddenly.

“A toast... to kicking ass!” She shouted, raising her flask into the air.

Fuego smiled as well, standing and raising his cup, sloshing a bit out in his eagerness. “To kicking ass!”

Faulkron raised his cup as well as they all joined in.

As he lay his head down to sleep that night, he felt strange. The warmth of the fire was washing over him, and he felt his guard crumble just a little. It was scary. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was, with these people, but he suddenly trusted them that much more. It was an odd and unexpected connection.

While he laid there, waiting for sleep to come, he heard a movement and a shuffling. Opening his eyes slightly, he watched as Alejandro stood up from his watch with Shakari, walking past Faulkron and to the edge of the firelight. He stood there for a bit appearing to be thinking or mumbling to himself, Faulkron couldn’t be sure. A few minutes later, Alejandro took a small bag from his pouch, taking what looked like... coins? It was something similar at least, and as Alejandro looked down at the objects in his hand, Faulkron almost couldn’t see it, but his eyes caught the hint of light against the dark, a few tears rolling down Alejandro’s cheeks. Alejandro wiped them away quickly before turning around, his face stoic, but eyes filled with fear and anger. In the glimpse Faulkron had before he closed his eyes again, he saw a toughness, but not that of a warrior. It reminded Faulkron far more of a cornered animal.

Sleep took even longer to reach him that night, his mind once again full of questions.

Part 3 | Part 5

[kuiinncedes]

HI JEANNE I AM SO GLAD UR DOING PROMPTS!!! can i prompt general #24 for quinntina with some kuinn friendship maybe pls???? 🥺🥺💞💗💞💗💞💗💞💗

hi rae thanks for prompting!!! <333

General 24 “I haven’t seen (her/him/them) smile in months.”

this got longggg 2796 ish words 👀 (i edited it after pasting into tumblr tho so idk exactly :P) i think this is the longest thing i’ve posted?? i hope it doesn’t suck <3

(also small mention of homophobic parent(s) (mostly quinn’s mom) and just not great parenting... also blood and death mention warning (but like just in conversation?))

i’m like weirdly nervous about this one sdlhgkjf *screams and hits post*

--

“What’s wrong with Tina?”

Kurt gives Quinn a sideways look, fixing his hair in the mirror on his locker. “Tina Cohen Chang? Why are you asking about her?”

Quinn shrugs, trying to play innocent and nonchalant. “I haven’t seen her smile in months.” Because since the beginning of the year, Tina always smiled at her as she walked into their first class and the only one they share, but now she doesn’t, if she even comes to class on time at all.

Kurt looks at her knowingly and Quinn pushes his arm lightly. “Shut up,” she grumbles. “I’m serious.”

“I’ve noticed it, too,” Kurt says after a moment, following Quinn’s gaze to Tina arriving at her locker. They watch as she hurriedly puts some books in her bag and quickly walks off again, head down and giving a wide berth to everyone she passes. 

“Yeah, and that,” Quinn says, “it’s like she’s… scared or something.” She looks at Kurt whose jaw has tightened. Quinn squeezes his arm lightly and he smiles a little at her. 

“I can ask Mercedes,” he says reluctantly as he shuts his locker and they start walking down the hall. “She’d know more than me, but… yeah, I don’t think she’s even been in glee lately.”

Quinn’s barely paying attention and almost runs into another student before Kurt pulls her out of the way. “You know, it’s a little creepy that you noticed this at all,” he teases, a glimmer in his eye, and Quinn elbows him and follows him into their next class.

-

Mercedes doesn’t give them any new information, and then Quinn -- Quinn wants to forget about it, but she can’t. She keeps stealing glances at Tina in the halls, during class, at lunch. She knows Kurt’s right, that it is a little creepy, but… 

They’ve been around each other’s circles since the beginning of high school, and a friendly wave from Tina one morning was the only thing keeping Quinn feeling normal when the least normal thing possible had happened to her the night before. She didn’t have Kurt yet, she barely had any friends because of her work to uphold her status as the ice-cold head Cheerio. Tina was kind to her when she was spiraling after her world had turned upside down and no one was around to support her, to turn it back around. 

So she just wants to know if Tina’s okay. Because of that. No other reason.

-

Quinn gets her chance a week later. 

She doesn’t expect to see Tina today -- she isn’t in English and hadn’t been for a few days. Quinn tries to ignore her growing concern; after all, she still doesn’t actually know anything about Tina’s life.

When Mrs. Harrison splits them off into groups of two for a new project, Quinn is last to pick her partner and everyone else has already paired off.

“Tina’s absent today, I’ll work with her,” Quinn says airily, playing with the end of her ponytail and tapping her pencil on the desk. She acts like she doesn’t care (why would Quinn Fabray have any reaction to getting paired with a relative social nobody for a project?) but part of her is… looking forward to it. Not only because of her persisting concern about what’s going on with Tina, but also because she does genuinely want to spend time with her. So maybe this is her chance.

She tells Kurt about it at his locker between classes and he rolls his eyes and smiles fondly at her. 

It’s the end of the day when Quinn realizes she doesn’t actually have Tina’s number to contact her; it’s too late to ask Kurt or Cedes, she stayed after school to retake a math test and she’s the only one here, as far as she knows.

Except she’s not. There’s another car in the student lot. Quinn glances at it and stops when she realizes someone is sitting in the driver’s seat -- Tina. Before she can talk herself out of it, Quinn walks over and taps on her window. 

Maybe she should’ve talked herself out of it, she thinks as Tina jumps and seems to steel herself before rolling down her window. Quinn smiles a little, apologetically. A wave of warm air comes from inside the car, like Tina’s been blasting the heat even in the relatively warm spring weather.

“Um, hey,” Quinn says awkwardly. “So… you weren’t in English today, but we’re doing a project and you and I are partners.” Her voice goes up at the end as if it’s a question. She’s really doubting this now. Tina looks like she’s sick and she’s gripping the steering wheel and not meeting Quinn’s eyes. “Or…” Quinn clears her throat slightly, putting her head Cheerio, most popular girl in school mask back on. “It’s fine if you don’t. Just tell Mrs. Harrison. I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” Tina says, looking up at her finally, and Quinn thinks there’s something different about her eye color. Her smile is tight and forced. “Sounds good.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Doesn’t sound like it sounds good.”

Tina clenches her jaw. “Yeah, it’s good, sorry, I’m just tired,” she says in one breath. “Here, I’ll, um -- ” She fumbles with her phone and offers it to Quinn. “Put your number in, I’ll text you.”

Quinn’s fingers brush Tina’s when she takes the phone and she almost jumps at how cold her skin is, despite the warmth emanating from the car. Even Kurt, who runs cold, isn’t nearly this cold to Quinn’s own unnaturally warm body temperature…. Her concern grows and she watches Tina for another moment, who’s closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. 

“Are you… okay?” Quinn asks hesitantly.

“I’m fine.” 

“Forgive me for saying this? But you… don’t look fine.”

Tina gives her a sideways look. “Yeah, well.” She closes her eyes again.

Quinn enters her number but doesn’t give Tina’s phone back when she’s done. “Hey, seriously, I -- what’s wrong?”

Tina just exhales defeatedly. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Try me.”

She shakes her head.

“Your skin is fucking freezing, you have the heat on high in the car in almost 70-degree weather, you look different and not in a good way. I know -- I know we don’t talk much, Tina, but please, let me help you.” Quinn even surprises herself with the last part. It’s far from the hard facade she hides behind at school in her Cheerios uniform, even though she’s still wearing that right now. 

Tina stays still and silent and Quinn fidgets with her phone. 

“I really don’t know what to do here,” Tina says softly, opening her eyes, glancing at Quinn again then back away. “I literally… have no. Fucking. Clue.” It sounds like she’s talking to herself more than anything and Quinn isn’t sure how to respond.

“Well, I… whatever I can do -- ”

“Have you ever had something… absolutely, absolutely insane happen to you? Like… you would never believe it yourself but it happened to you and you have to fucking deal with it so you have to believe it.” Tina’s breaths come more quickly as she continues, her fists curling tighter around the steering wheel. “And I don’t know how to fucking deal with it, but I fucking have to because -- because I have to and I’m this thing now -- ”

“Hey, Tina, hey, breathe,” Quinn says hurriedly, trying to put a hand on her shoulder but the angle from outside the car window is awkward and she doesn’t know if it would be appreciated. Her mind spins with those words -- you have to believe it, I’m this thing now -- and it’s scarily similar to Quinn’s own thoughts when she first… turned, over three years ago.

But Tina can’t be a werewolf too, her skin… Quinn thinks. Thankfully Tina’s breathing has mostly gone back to normal and she just looks exhausted again, her forehead resting on the steering wheel and hands loose in her lap now. What the fuck. What the fuck am I about to do.

Despite all her instincts and rationale screaming at her not to do it, Quinn says shakily, “I think I get it,” and when Tina turns to look at her, she inhales and says in a whisper, so quiet she’s not sure if Tina can hear, “I’m a werewolf.”

Tina stares and Quinn starts thinking and thinking about how she can take it back, it was a joke, there’s obviously no such thing as werewolves, what the fuck was she saying, what was she thinking revealing this to a near stranger --

“I think… I think I’m technically a vampire.” 

Oh. Quinn stares back at her.

Some of the tension seems to have gone out of Tina’s body. There’s another silence. “Can I trust you?” Tina asks quietly.

“What -- ? I mean, yeah…” Quinn swallows. “Yes, you can. Of course. I think if there’s one person you could trust with this, it’s me.” 

Please trust me.

“Thank you,” Tina whispers, like she just has no energy to speak louder. “I just can’t think right now, I think I need… like, fucking blood, probably, I don’t know…” She looks down at her hands hopelessly. “I think I might be dying.” She laughs humorlessly. “Again, I guess.”

Quinn thinks for a moment, taking in the almost metallic pallor of Tina’s skin and the difference in her irises that she noticed earlier. “How long have you… been a vampire?” 

Is this the answer to what she’s been wondering about?

“A few months, I guess.” (There it is… Quinn wonders if anyone might have noticed something different in her for the months after her first night as a wolf.) “There was another vampire -- nicer than the one who bit me -- ” her voice goes hard and tight on bit -- “who gave me some blood for a while. But I don’t know where they are now. They said they never stayed in one place for a long time. So I guess I’m starving to death. I don’t know.”

“Can’t you, like, get blood… somewhere?”

“I can barely stand talking to you right now, to be honest,” Tina says. “I don’t think I could go near other people right now.”

Right. Quinn curses her complete lack of knowledge on vampires besides that from popular media, which probably doesn’t apply very well to this situation. This feels absolutely ridiculous, though she’s been through weirder herself… still. Her first full moon was a disaster and she doesn’t know how to deal with this either. But… 

“I might be able to help,” she says, standing up straighter and finally handing Tina’s phone back to her. Tina pauses before taking it, as if she forgot about it; Quinn has, too, for the most part. The project is definitely not a priority now. “I know absolutely nothing about vampires,” Quinn continues, “but I have my own needs as a werewolf. I know a place -- it’s where I hunt. Animals.”

Tina seems to wince at the words. Quinn vaguely remembers hearing about how Tina doesn’t eat meat, for the most part. She could probably avoid thinking about it when someone else was getting her blood, but this will be direct. This will be a change.

Quinn presses on. “You need blood. Everything in history about vampires says that -- they can’t all be wrong. Please let me help you.”

“Okay,” Tina says weakly, nodding a little. “Give me the address, or whatever -- ”

“I’m driving you. In this car. And staying with you.” Quinn doesn’t back down as Tina’s eyes snap to hers, and her mouth opens to protest. “Seriously. I’m helping you with this. And you’ll crash the car if you drive yourself.”

Her head falls back against the headrest. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted and dying, Fabray,” she grumbles. She gets out and goes around the front of the car into the passenger seat, and Quinn slides into the driver’s seat, putting her bag in the back. She instinctively reaches to turn down the heat, but remembers Tina’s freezing skin.

“You can turn it down,” Tina says. “I don’t even feel cold. I just wanted my skin to feel normal to other people, which clearly wasn’t working.” Quinn gives her a glance to make sure, but Tina is just leaned against the window, body slumped and tired. 

She turns it down just a little.

Then remembering something else Tina said earlier, Quinn asks warily, “Are you okay with me in the car right now? I know you said earlier you could barely stand it…”

Tina shrugs. “I mean, I have to be, don’t I?” Quinn doesn’t answer, and Tina looks over at her and chuckles a little. “Don’t worry, Fabray, I won’t kill you and drain your blood. Although it does sound… appetizing right now.”

“Haven’t you read Twilight? My blood tastes awful to vampires,” Quinn jokes, trying to lighten the mood as she pulls the car out of the school parking lot. 

“Is that really a thing?”

Quinn laughs lightly. “I think so, I don’t know. But that is something I’m thinking about when it comes to vampires, so I must’ve heard it somewhere.”

Tina hums. “I never read or watched Twilight. My parents wouldn’t let me; my mom said she thought Kristen Stewart seemed like a bitch.” She lets out a short laugh. “The irony.”

“Do your parents know?”

“No. Yours?”

“No.” It’s honestly too easy for Quinn to hide it from her mom and her mom’s boyfriend. They’re never home and when they are, they leave Quinn alone, which is fine by her, especially on full moons or random weird days when she needs to leave. She does whatever the fuck she wants; they don’t question it. She supposes there are worse ways to live, especially while being a werewolf.

“How am I supposed to tell them?” Tina asks, looking out the window. “I thought I’d have to worry about telling them I thought Kristen Stewart was hot, not that I had basically become her -- or, her character.”

“Well, you could lead with the first thing? Maybe that’ll make it a little easier to accept. Or you could lead with the second, and while they’re freaking out about that, just drop in that you like girls.”

“Ha ha.”

“It’s good advice, I just might follow it myself,” Quinn jokes.

“…You like girls?” Tina asks. “Or -- you don’t have to answer that, sorry -- ”

Quinn glances at her. “Yeah.” 

“Cool. Let me know how it goes, if you do follow that advice,” Tina teases lightly.

Quinn laughs harshly at the mere thought of coming out to her mom. She might’ve been able to come around about her teenage pregnancy, but Quinn doesn’t miss the tone her voice takes on when she asks about Kurt or when Quinn mentions him, when Quinn’s watching something on TV or reading a book, when she sees something in the news. 

“Well I’m not coming out anytime soon.”

“That’s fine,” Tina says, her voice soft and tired but sincere. 

“Kurt’s the only other person who knows, though, so… yeah, you know… trust thing.”

“Of course. Thanks for telling me.”

And Quinn does trust Tina, with this, with the werewolf thing… she’s wondering how Tina managed to win her trust so quickly... and friendship.

Hopefully, Tina trusts her enough for what they’re about to do.

“We’re here,” Quinn says, pulling into a dirt area surrounded by woods. She puts the car in park and hears Tina take a deep breath. She looks nervous and Quinn doesn’t need to imagine to have an idea of what’s going through her head right now. She takes one of her freezing hands in her own, holds it between them. “Tina. I’ll be here for you, okay? I’ll help you. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely not. Do you know anything about vampires hunting?”

“Is it so different from turning into a wolf and hunting?” Quinn jokes, then asks seriously, “Do you need a minute?”

“No.” Tina removes her hand to open the door and Quinn misses the contact, the… warmth, even from her cold skin. 

When she gets out of the car and comes up next to her, Tina shoots her a grateful smile -- small, but genuine. Something Quinn hasn’t seen in months. She’s missed it. 

(Shit, Kurt was right, she thinks, and if this is any indication, she won’t ever get tired of that smile.)

“Thank you, Quinn, for helping me with this.”

“Of course.”

Quinn’s hand suddenly finds itself in Tina’s again, and she can feel Tina’s hand shaking a little. Quinn gives her a small, reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go.”

***

small notes for after bc i didn’t want to “spoil” this before lol !!

this is in the werewolf!quinn / vampire!tina au i’ve written in before :) if u wanna check that out hehe here’s my fic tag :P 

this and this are the two that are most connected to this one tho if u want to read :3 especially the second one -- i think that’s kind of a continuation of this fic, or like the next scene i guess

no one really cares but i started out with this prompt thinking about a more canon s1 au where it was tina saying the prompt about quinn during her pregnancy but idk somehow it turned into this instead slfdkjkd

i really didn’t have many notes lmao that’s it thanks for reading if u did <3

[thesearchforbluejello]

Imagine a "Star Trek: Lower Decks" style sitcom in the Stargate universe. Stargate: SG-47... the crew that follows up on all the really boring planets SG-1 goes to once and never again. They always debrief with Walter instead of the General. They annoyed the Nox once and now they show up to pull pranks on SG-47 in revenge. Minor Goa'ulds catch them and are depressed they're not SG-1 or someone more important so they just release them.

My notifications ate this ask; I don't know when it's from, but I'm just seeing it now. Please accept this totally unedited bullshit fic as my apology and thanks for how hard this ask made me laugh. I'm definitely not supposed to be writing a final right now. And I know you said minor Goa'uld but like I couldn't resist this opportunity. Also, me, using a minific to talk about my obsession with what the hieroglyphs in a Goa'uld ship could be? More likely than you think.

​A Soldier, a Linguist, a Botanist, and a Biologist Walk into a Ha'tak

Major Lissa Cannon emerges from the event horizon into the bright, clear sunlight of P4X-737. She takes a deep breath and immediately sneezes. "Great," she says.

Dr. Jess Abubakar passes her on the right, heading down the stone stairs of the gate platform without hesitation. "Better get used to it," he says with a cheerfulness that she doesn't-- and any reasonable person wouldn't-- share.

"Jess, I swear to God," Dr. Beth Rosenberg says as she follows him down the steps.

"You're just salty you have to help us collect samples," Jess counters, more affable than Cannon would have expected anyone to be before she actually started working with him.

Beside her, Dr. Chris Richardson just gives a wry smile before heading down the stairs after their teammates. Cannon sneezes again.

"It's the pollen!" Jess says as she joins the group. "Initial samples brought back by SG-1 indicate that it's at least twice as potent as anything we have on Earth."

"How is that a good thing," Cannon gripes even though she'd sat through the briefing and already listened to Jess and Bill Lee go on about how important it could prove to be.

"I mean, just think of the possibilities!" Jess says, more than happy to repeat himself. "We could synthesize new antihistamines, or even make existing ones more effective. We could develop new crops that are potentially more resistant to blights or unfavorable growing conditions."

"Yay," Beth says, drier than the climate on this planet has likely ever been.

"You're just mad because there are no indigenous people here to talk to," Cannon points out.

"You could talk to the plants," Jess says.

"Studies have proven that talking to plants encourages growth," Chris adds, soft-spoken as always.

"I'm not talking to the plants," Beth says.

"Why not?" Cannon asks. "With this much pollen in the air, after a few hours they might start talking back."

"Oof, like when SG-7 was on P8Q-984," Jess laughs. "That's not an experience I want to have for myself."

"Those were spores, not pollen," Chris corrects amiably as the team starts into the forested area beyond the field in which the gate sits.

"Sentiment's the same," Jess says.

Cannon hears a rustle in the undergrowth and raises her P-90, her team stopping immediately in defensive positions behind her. After a moment of nothing but birdsong and her own breathing, she relaxes. "Must've been an animal," she says.

"SG-1's initial exploration didn't indicate any indigenous animals on the ground," Beth says.

"Well, that's why we get their leftovers, because everything is just 'initial,'" Cannon points out. She takes the lead as they continue between the trees, rifle still ready in her hands just in case.

"Bloodthirsty squirrels is not on my extraterrestrial exploratory bucket list," Jess says.

"Yeah, mine neither," Cannon agrees. She's barely got the sentence out of her mouth when she hits a force field, face-first. "Motherfucker," she tries to say, a natural reaction, but the syllables come out muddled because her face is suddenly very numb. She drops to a knee and raises her rifle, looking for whatever danger has to be in the forest with them. Around her, her team drops the specimen cases they'd been carrying and raise their own weapons. They're not armed for this; SG-1's previous mission and the UAV surveys hadn't revealed anything dangerous enough to warrant coming through armed with anything more than Cannon's P-90, a couple of flash-bangs, and an assortment of 9mils and zats carried by her and her teammates. Except for Cannon, they're scientists, not soldiers.

"Lower your weapons," a voice commands from the trees.

"You lower your force field," Cannon calls back.

"I think not." Around them, Jaffa begin to materialize from the forest.

"Fuck," Cannon says.

*

The Jaffa strip them of their gear, tossing their vests, holsters, and packs in a careless pile on top of the specimen cases they'd dropped when the force field had initially gone up. They're surprisingly respectful about it, which Cannon almost laments because she's pissed off and ready to fight, even if she knows it's a fight she won't win. She watches their gear disappear from view in a flash of light as they're beamed up to a ship she knows must be waiting above.

Gold walls and a polished floor illuminated by dim lights materialize around them. Another group of Jaffa is waiting. One of their captors reports to a man Cannon assumes is his superior. She tries to pick of bits and pieces she recognizes from the language but doesn't get much.

"Wait," Beth says, "can you say that again? That's word isn't in the lexicon we've been developing."

The Jaffa looks at her sidelong in confusion before his superior barks an order.

"This way," he says. The Jaffa behind them push the team roughly forward.

"Yeah, I heard him," Cannon says, her face still numb and her words muddled, "relax."

They spend the next several hours sitting in a cell. Beth whips a notebook out of one of the pockets of her pants and starts making notes on the glyphs in their cell.

"Does that actually say anything?" Jess asks. "I've never been on a Goa'uld ship before."

A chorus of variants on "yeah, me neither" precede Beth's answer.

"It does, actually, though most of it just repeats. A lot of it is just vague, seemingly formulaic stories of someone's victories and conquering and blah blah blah, but the name has been chiseled out," she says, tapping a glyph that's clearly been destroyed deliberately.

Cannon turns her head against the wall from where she's sulking with her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. "Why?"

"My best guess? Whoever owns this ship now stole it from another Goa'uld and had their name erased. Think damnatio memoriae."

"Huh," Jess says, setting his hand of cards down to Chris's obvious annoyance. "But they kept the part about the victories?"

"Why not? Obviously they had someone spend all the time necessary to do this to the whole ship, so keeping the rest saved a hell of a lot of work. Plus, if they bested the guy this ship used to belong to, that's quite a flex." Beth shrugs and goes back to writing in her notebook. Jess picks up his cards again and Cannon can tell by the barest quirk of Chris's lips that they have the winning hand.

"You know what I'm thinking about right now?" Cannon says. "Mashed potatoes."

"Ugh, the mashed potatoes in the mess taste like plastic," Beth says without looking away from the wall.

"I know; once I start eating them, they're so disgusting I just can't stop myself. It's like the flavor gets grosser with every bite."

"They're not bad with the roast beef," Chris says.

"That's because the roast beef is the only palatable thing the mess serves besides jello," Jess points out.

"It was lemon chicken today," Cannon sighs. She rests her head against the wall again. "My vest had all my granola bars. What could these guys possibly want with us," she complains.

"Do you think they've realized that we're only number 47 because they want any potential enemies to think there are more SG teams than there really are?" Jess asks.

"I don't know," Cannon says stiffly, "but say that again a little louder and I'm sure they will."

Jess holds his hands up in placation, tipping his cards towards Cannon. Chris is about to destroy him with that hand.

"Well," Cannon sighs, "the good news is that I can feel my face again."

Heavy footfalls sound in the hallway and Cannon stands, shifting her weight to ease the stiffness in her legs. Beth hurriedly stuffs her notebook back in her pocket and Chris and Jess shove the cards into the pocket of Jess's pants.

"You will come with us," the Jaffa says.

"Sure," Cannon says as she leads her team after him. "I don't suppose you guys have any snacks on board this thing? You've got to eat, right?" He doesn't answer. "Didn't your mom ever teach you to share?"

The Jaffa ignores her and leads them into an open room with a throne at the fall wall. Ba'al surges to his feet as they enter. "Fool," he spits at the Jaffa beside him, who Cannon recognizes as the leader of the group that had captured them. "This isn't SG-1."

"My lord--"

"Who are you?" Ba'al interrupts.

"Major Lissa Cannon, leader of SG-47," she says, raising her chin.

"Forty-seven," Ba'al says in disbelief.

"We're a science team; we were studying the flora of P4X-737 when you so rudely interrupted."

Ba'al just looks at her. "You're scientists."

Jess raises his hand. "Doctor."

"Doctor," Chris agrees.

"Major," Cannon says with a shrug.

"Doctor," Beth says.

"I've seen this episode of M*A*S*H," Chris says.

"I did also once make a baking soda volcano for a sixth-grade science fair," Cannon adds.

Ba'al sits back on his throne, crossing one leg over the other and resting his elbows on the arms, looking the picture of a carefree megalomaniac.

"Bring them back to the surface," he orders the Jaffa with a lazy wave of his hand, without so much as raising his arm from the throne. "Finish studying your plants," Ba'al says, "I have no use for you."

"That's kind of rude," Cannon says.

*

The Jaffa drop them on the planet's surface and beam back up to the ship. Cannon pulls her vest off the pile, slings it over her shoulders, and pulls a granola bar out of the pocket. She rips it open and stuff it into her mouth, chewing as she zips her vest and secures her holsters around her legs.

"That was easier than I expected," Beth admits.

"Sometimes I think the only reason the Goa'uld try to capture SG teams is just because SG-1 pisses them off so much," Jess adds.

Cannon snorts at that. "Let's get our samples and haul it back to the gate before the mess runs out of mashed potatoes."

"You realize that's extremely unlikely, right?" Chris deadpans.

Cannon shrugs and stuffs the wrapper of her granola bar into her pocket. "Even so, let's get a move on."

[jaxsteamblog]

This is where I pick apart the plot and say baseless things

I don’t like figuring out things out, which is why my series is so clunky and takes forever to update, and also why I LOVE crackpot and unsubstantiated theories.

(Not conspiracy theories)

This is specifically about crackpot theories that I applied to one of my fics, so PLEASE feel free to disregard.

I was 21 when I finally saw AtLA and had zero interest in shipping. I just really, REALLY liked the show and talking about it. It was because I started hanging out with another fan and we complained about the plot holes (and the fact that she’s a Zutara shipper from her youth) that I ended up following a very, shall we say, intentional pathway. 

One of the things I didn’t understand about the story, is how we had a character like Iroh. He arguably went through an off screen redemption arc that obliterates Zuko’s. People mock him repeatedly for his in show status compared to how he was as the “Dragon of the West.” The man pushed his soldiers into a 600 DAY SIEGE. He was the crown prince, and we (now) have canon proof of him looking exactly as he should. 

There are a few exceptions to his character, and we can feasibly understand that these points were what the White Lotus used to get him to jump sides.

One is his fondness for his family:

Two is his respect for the spirits.

I want to take a quick detour on something I call: Zuko Is Iroh On Speed Run

IDK if the writers ever had this in mind, but Zuko repeatedly repeats (heh) aspects of Iroh’s off screen life.

First: The Case of the Missing Mom

Azulon looks p cute in Legacy of the Fire Nation right?

I bet he had the ladies at the Academy *ahem*

I don’t think he had any problem getting married, and I bet it was a FANTASTIC match. And by that I mean, he probably got a lot out of it and his wife found out quick that there was nothing good looking INSIDE the man.

She kicks the bucket at some point, and I think this affects Iroh as it pertains to how he views his family.

(I have a separate theory that Azulon had two wives, and that he actually loved Iroh’s mother while Ozai’s mother was a necessity.)

Zuko’s mom disappears and Zuko is profoundly affected by how her absence alters his life. He can no longer trust ANYONE at that moment. (Iroh is not there, his grandfather was okay with him being killed and is now dead, his sister straight up taunted him about his impending execution, and his father was going to go through with it.) It causes him to build walls OH MY GOD IF THE CANON TIMELINE TAKES ~600 DAYS THEN IROH HAD TO DO ANOTHER SIEGE AND SUCCEEDED.

ANYWAY.

Let’s look at the new canon Lu Ten btw:

For a franchise that really likes to whitewash its characters, Lu Ten is looking a little........

....colonial?

I think Iroh fell in love with someone NOT from the main islands of the Fire Nation and Azulon did NOT like that. I think from Lu Ten’s letter, there was some tension at the palace that ramped up the expectations. 

Ursa was forcibly married to Ozai, and we see that Azulon wants to use whatever leverage he can in order to win the war. 

And we get to another Iroh/Zuko dichotomy.

I believe that Iroh buried himself in Spirit lore as a way to ensure a Fire Nation victory. Did his wife introduce him to it? Who knows. But I do think there was some sort of Earth Kingdom connection because I have a strong suspicion that Zhao learned about Wan Shi Tong’s library because Iroh wanted General Shu to find it. 

Similarly, Zuko has disgraced himself in the eyes of HIS father, so he goes off in search of the Avatar to redeem himself. 

They both lose everything and make their choice to change because of these things.

There was a crackpot theory that Koh took Lu Ten’s face (which obviously can’t be now that we have the Legacy book) and that it was Iroh’s meddling that brought Koh over.

So maybe it wasn’t Koh, but what if it was another spirit?

In the show, we have Tui and La, Hei Bai, the Painted Lady, Wan Shi Tong, Fang, and I’m throwing in Yue just because. People calling Zuko “the Blue Spirit” implies that people still expect to see spirits from time to time. 

I think that a spirit DID kill Lu Ten, and that Iroh WAS the one to bring it over. 

We watched what happened with Zuko and Aang.

Now, I think the White Lotus was trying to get to Iroh before Lu Ten’s death. Iroh had seen the Sun Warriors and left them alone. I think Iroh was the one to convince Piandao to take Zuko as a student. I bet Iroh and Jeong Jeong had plenty of talks about the meaning of everything before Jeong Jeong deserted. Between the two of them, I think they convinced the White Lotus to go after the Fire Nation Crown Prince.

Iroh wouldn’t be swayed, though, until after Lu Ten died. He questioned everything; the war, his life, what he was actually fighting for.

On his way home, I think that’s when he heard Azulon had died and Ozai had taken over the throne. 

He had a massive army, clearly loyal for staying that long, why didn’t he take them all they way to the palace doors?

Because Iroh had made the choice to humble himself, seek forgiveness, and joined the White Lotus.

Very similar to what Zuko did. 

Canon Zuko closes the circle on Iroh’s life, ultimately appearing as a wise, beloved figure in LoK that is also missing a wife. 

How does this bring me back to Zutara?

I think the canon ending completely topples the comparison of Iroh and Zuko. Lu Ten was clearly the product of Iroh falling in love with a colonial woman, if not a full blown Earth Kingdom woman. Iroh was meant to be the Fire Lord. Iroh was supposed to be happy.

Zuko is meant to be happily married to his non Fire Nation wife and being Fire Lord, establishing a harmony that recognizes the equal parts of every element. 

Zuko is meant to realize all of Iroh’s hopes and dreams. 

Not clear? They are mirrored, so not a 1:1 and more of like a palindrome.

Iroh earns his fathers ire by falling in love with a colonial/Earth Kingdom woman

Zuko earns his fathers ire by speaking out about the loss of life in war

Iroh attempts to redeem himself by using spirits to conquer Ba Sing Se

Zuko attempts to redeem himself by capturing the Avatar and going home

Iroh succeeds in finding spirits but doesn’t take Ba Sing Se, heads home having changed

Zuko doesn’t succeed in capturing the Avatar but goes home, hasn’t yet changed

Iroh abandons his family to join the group he thinks is doing the right thing

Zuko abandons his family to join the group he thinks is doing the right thing

Iroh works to support the Avatar

Zuko reconnects to the spiritual side of Firebending and the elements to find peace

Iroh speaks out against the war

Zuko falls in love with a Water Tribe woman oh sorry, I mean a Fire Nation lady thus maintaining the status quo.

During the show, we see a lot of seeds Iroh plants in Zuko’s mind blossom later on. Zuko follows in his uncle’s footprints, not ever knowing that’s what he’s doing.

And Iroh didn’t marry someone from the Fire Nation, that’s clearly obvious.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Atlantis 6

Previously on Atlantis

The moment she woke, Clarke kept her eyes closed and just listened, realizing that things were not what she’d expected. She felt the familiar weight of her blankets, and she smelled the smell of her parent’s house, the smell as old as time, that she often never noticed, but after being removed for so long, inhaled greedily as she dug her face in her pillow. 

There were noises downstairs that finally registered before she opened her eyes, held her breath, and hid in the pillows. She heard some clamor of her parents making breakfast, coffee steam sifting up through the vents. She heard the squeak and chatter of some birds in the trees outside her window. For a moment, Clarke pretended that she was miles underwater, and there might be a beautiful girl awkwardly standing outside her door. 

But there wasn’t, and there wouldn’t be. Clarke rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling before digging the heel of her hands into her eyes and sighing. A day ago, she was in a beautiful palace, and now she was back at her parent’s house, without a job, without a career, without a mentor, without any idea of what was to come forward. 

Her body was completely healed, a feat that was mind-blowing considering her wounds and condition after the explosion and being stranded at sea. But now, when it was quiet, and she was safe in the familiar, Clarke realized the massive grief heaped upon her, that surviving came at a cost. 

When it got to be too much, when she cried silent tears that covered her face and left her chest fluttering and aching, Clarke wiped her face and took a few deep breaths, hoping to find some sort of center amidst the flood of absolute pain that washed over her entire body. She wanted to take another sleeping pill and pass out until her heart didn’t hurt anymore, but that seemed unwise. 

As soon as she made it down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen, Clarke realized she’d made a horrible mistake and should have stayed in bed. 

“Clarke! Oh my God!”

“We were--”

“I’m so glad you’re--”

“You look!”

The chorus of voices erupted and she took a step back, confused and overwhelmed by the outpouring of her closest friends as they began to circle and reach out and smother. 

“Okay, okay, back up everyone,” Abby jumped in carefully, keeping the horde from her terror-stricken daughter. “Give her a moment to breathe. I’m sure she’s not used to being around people, they had her in isolation due to exposure during the explosion.”

“But luckily, she didn’t come in contact with any of the pathogens she was studying,” Jake smiled graciously behind the island as he added more pancakes to the pile forming on the large breakfast display. “Better safe than sorry though.” 

“You should have seen your mom. I think she nearly got arrested for trying to break into a government installation,” Raven offered with a smile as Abby hit her shoulder. 

“Come sit,” Octavia hurried, clearing more of a path. “You must be hungry.” 

“Not really,” Clarke smiled softly and took the seat anyway. 

The friends shared a look as Clarke sat there and looked at the display of everyone trying to be normal. Abby hovered, rubbing her daughter’s back, soothing away the worries that remained. No one knew about the ten minutes ago, where she broke down and clawed at her chest in her bed. No one. 

“Your appetite will come back,” her mother promised. “Let me make you a little plate. Everyone can dig in. Your friends have been anxiously waiting to see you.” 

The general hubbub of people moving about the kitchen really only settled well after Clarke had a plate set in front of her. She ate a blueberry and nodded, smiling at her mother to tell her not to worry. It felt like before, like how it always was, since middle school, the whole gang fighting over this and that, piling over each other to eat. Even when college and life took them different ways, they were never far off. There was something grounding in it, just like her sheets, just like the noises of the morning. 

“So what happened, Clarke? We only heard bits and pieces on the news,” Raven explained between mouthfuls of Jake’s famous pancakes. “They kept repeating the same things, over and over again.” 

“What did they say?” 

Clarke already knew the story. She’d been held in a government facility for six hours and briefed on how to behave and what to say. She had a business card with FBI on it and Agent Barne’s number hidden in her sock drawer. 

“Just that a bad storm led to the ship sinking. I can’t imagine how bad it must have been,” Octavia shook her head. “At first they said no survivors. We all thought you were dead for seventeen hours.” 

“I’m… I’m…” Clarke furrowed and shook her head, looking guiltily at her food, afraid to meet their eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But you’re not,” Bellamy interrupted. “And you don’t have to talk about what happened.” 

A pointed look was exchanged between him and the rest, warning them to behave and not push. 

“There isn’t much to tell,” she shrugged, perking up a bit and deciding to pick up her fork. “The storm was bad, and then I woke up in a government hospital. I wish there was a better story. I was checking weather reports in the navigation center, and I think we hit a wave or gust and I must have hit my head and blacked out.” 

“It’s not every day that a concussion is a blessing,” Jake offered, finally taking his seat with the rest. “But it must have saved you.” 

“A blessing,” Clarke repeated, contemplating the word for a moment before taking a big bite of breakfast. “Like these pancakes. I feel better already.” 

The group chuckled and refused to talk about the accident again, while Clarke ate and smiled until she couldn’t any longer. She explained that she was still a little drowsy, and wanted to lay down. Every person promised to be back and see her again, demanding that she call if she needed anything at all. With grateful and long and tight hugs, her lifelong friends filed out as Clarke slipped upstairs. 

It truly was exhausting, to finally think about it, to remember the storm and her colleagues and all of the people who died. The numbness-- that was the true blessing of Atlantis. There wasn’t time to grieve when her body was overloaded with stimuli, unlike now, where everything was mundane and allowed her to think. 

Clarke slipped into her childhood bed again, and she pulled the blanket over her head, rolling into herself tightly before drifting off to an uneasy sleep. 

XXXXXXXXXX

For about a full week, Clarke existed in a fairly mundane routine of recover that all at once suited her and drove her nuts. Simultaneously, she felt prepared to do something-- anything-- and yet, could not imagine doing anything other than nothing. Her body and mind and soul needed time to come back, and she knew it. It didn’t make it any easier for her to stomach, but she begrudgingly listened. 

Every morning she got up and had a special breakfast her father made, even though her appetite was minimal and favored banalities. And then she would take a walk, sometimes with a friend, sometimes alone before coming home to shower and read or watch tv before a nap. Usually someone came by in the afternoon before dinner to occupy her, keep her busy, keep her doing something. Then came a family dinner, every night, her mother arriving right on time to join them. Dinner led to a movie, which then led to sleep. 

It was a safe and easy schedule in which she didn’t talk about anything with anyone. 

Until the arrival of the invitations for the funerals for the people finally confirmed dead after the concluded investigation into the crash and retrieval of bodies from the water, an initiative led by the Atlanteans as a gesture of good faith. 

Two weeks after her return, Clarke found her schedule consisting of funerals, nearly every day, each more difficult than the last, but as the final crewmember standing, as the only representative of her research team, she sat there at each and remembered with everyone else, commiserating in their grief. It helped and hurt, as any cathartic thing is meant to do. 

The third week she returned somewhat to her normal schedule with an intermittent funeral, the last residual ones ending quickly. 

A month after her return, Clarke felt marginally normal, except that she had no idea what the future held. 

It took five weeks for her to schedule an appointment with the university, despite her mother and father telling her she could take more time. 

Only after six weeks, did Clarke allow herself to really think about her time in Atlantis. Most of the time, she found herself daydreaming about Lexa in some form because it was one of the few thoughts that made her feel unburdened and less heavy in her chest. But, she actively kept herself from thinking too much, often shaking away the thoughts when her mind began to drift. 

After the nightly movie, and after she excused herself to sleep, Clarke sat at her desk and look at her laptop, knowing full well what was about to happen. She moved to lift the lid and then stopped, closing it and drumming her fingers along the top before looking over her shoulder at her closed door, straining her ears to hear anything. 

Though it was quiet, she hurried to place an old sweatshirt near the bottom of her door to block out any light, listening again, closer to the hall, at the familiar noises of her parents getting ready to go to sleep. 

Satisfied that no one would see her, Clarke ripped open her laptop, and quietly as she could type, logged in and began to type her query. 

L-E-X

Backspace.

A-L-E-X-A-N

Backspace.

P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S O-F A-T-L-A-N-T-I-S

Enter.

In the dark room, the glow of the screen colored her face, but she didn’t care. She bit her lip and looked at the photos first, and upon not finding many, looked through the first few search results. Little was known about Atlantis, let alone the heir to the throne, and any pictures that existed were not good. 

Mildly disappointed, Clarke slumped back in her chair and toyed with the scroll, debating what to do with no information and how deep, exactly, she was willing to dive into conspiracy theories and doctored photos. 

Backspace.

A-Q-U-A-G-I-R-L

Enter. 

Clarke paused only to look back at her door and close her laptop slightly, though not all the way, when she heard a sound in the hall. She held her breath and waited for her parents to go to bed before opening it fully again. 

There were more search results for that name, and Clarke mildly regretted it, because the images of Lexa, in a skin-tight suit, with a weapon, was a little disorienting. And then she stood beside her father, who was, even though it was an understatement, an actual mountain of a human. Lexa had his eyes, his chin, his grin, and goodness, did she have a similar fitness regime. 

Slowly making her way through the gallery, Clarke smiled to herself when she thought about Lexa, shy and with red-tipped ears, kind and gentle and soft to her for no reason at all. And then she looked at Lexa’s biceps. 

“Fuck,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. 

Backspace.

A-Q-U-A-G-I-R-L -B-I-C-E-P-S

Clarke hesitated before smiling to herself. 

Enter.

XXXXXXXXXX

The meeting at the university didn’t turn up much good news, as the semester was just ending and the summer was approaching. With an epic catastrophe to handle and fix, the powers behind all decisions, didn’t have any answers other than to enroll Clarke the following semester to finish her degree requirements. 

It was fair and just and gave Clarke time to recover and get back into thinking about existing again. Of course, Clarke found anything reasonable to be exhausting, in and of itself, and so she hated having to wait, hated losing her research, hated everything about everything that left her stuck. 

Three days later, however, she found herself back at the Spindrift, unsure of why she was there, and marvelling at how it operated when it was opened. People were buzzing about, familiar with their duties, as if it hadn’t opened merely two months prior. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent Barnes,” Clarke smiled, shaking the agents hand as she approached the waiting area. 

“Thanks for coming down.” 

“I don’t think I had a choice.” 

Clarke looked over her shoulder at the two men that picked her up for her ‘appointment.’ When she looked back, the agent was not amused. 

“You are being formally offered a position here, at the Spindrift.” 

“I might formally ask why?” she furrowed and looked at the blue folder that was handed to her, complete with the seal of Atlantis on it. “I’m still in my degree program for the Masters, and haven’t decided to complete the doctorate…. Is this salary serious?” 

“Government salaries are never a laughing matter.” 

“I could make three times this in the private sector.” 

“Yes,” the agent nodded. “And you would never work with any Atlantean healers or products ever again.” 

“Why me?” 

The agent opened another folder she was carrying. 

“You searched Atlantis comma Princess Lexa six times,” Barnes read from the folder, dragging her finger along the words there. “And Biceps comma Aquagirl, approximately a dozen.” 

The manilla folder shut quickly. 

“Per the queen herself, in conjunction with your university and the United States government, you are being offered a position at the Spindrift for research in intercontinental knowledge sharing.” 

Clarke furrowed and shook her head, not sure of what she was following entirely. There was certainly some mortification in there, she knew that, felt it eating her alive in front of the agent with an inability to change her inflection at all. 

“I find this idea the best case scenario, and you to be a complete risk to yourself and the sanctity of Atlantis,” the agent muttered, tossing the folder on the table. “Accept it so that I can watch you behave yourself and stop doing searches online of a reclusive and dangerous foreign entity that only you have visited.”

“You… you-- you hacked my computer?” 

“You are an intern and only living non-Atlantean who has been to Atlantis, of course your government is watching you.” 

“But why? I don’t know anything.” 

“You know enough.” 

“Who else has seen this?” Clarke blushed, though she attempted to hide it as best she could. There surely was no surviving this level of mortification. 

“No one.” 

“Was my offer made because of-- because I know--” she paused and took a breath. “Who did this?” 

“This offer was asked for by the Queen herself on behalf of one of her greatest medical researcher. Apparently you are the only person this researcher could tolerate.”

That feisty old broad, Clarke thought to herself as she shook her head. 

“How is… um, how-- How is the-- uh-- How is Aquaman? I heard about a battle before--”

“You have seventy-two hours to think about this. I will only ever communicate with you regarding official matters in this office, and anything relating to activities done by Atlantean royal family are unofficial until commented upon by official state representatives.” 

“You sound like a blast at parties.”

The agent didn’t move at all at the comment. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke apologized. “That was rude. You are just so-- intense.” 

“I’ve worked fifteen years with the King to make this a reality. If I wasn’t intense, it would be for nothing.”

“Can I ask about, um, the Prin-- about Lexa?” 

“Officially, no.” 

“Unofficially?” 

“Unofficially, no.” 

“But you just set it up like you would say something unofficial.”

“I cannot control any inferences made.” 

With growing frustration, both at the agent and herself, Clarke pursed her lips and looked down at the seal on the folder. It was something, and some sort of direction in a time when she very badly needed it. 

“Unofficially,” the agent finally started, lowering her voice. “Just save the pictures. Why would you keep searching the same thing?” 

“After a brief, embarrassed pause, Clarke nodded and looked back at the agent. 

“I’ll look this over and get back to you. Unofficially or officially or whatever, thank the Queen, if you see her.” 

The agent nodded instead of arguing, nudging her head slightly so the agents would continue to escort the scientist back toward the entrance. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Three months after her shipwreck and rescue to an untouched land, hidden in the depths of the sea by a beautiful princess with a mythical bloodline and inheritance in the shape of a trident, Clarke sat at her desk in a very small cubicle, in a very small office, with six other research associates. 

It was a very tedious job for the first few weeks, and just on the horizon was the actual research that Clarke hoped would lead to figuring out what the healer did to heal her so quickly, and if she could figure out how to help other people. 

There was an element of escapism to worke each day, enough that Clarke found herself staying late to avoid her worried family’s glances and the mothering that all of her friends did. It was appreciated but also extremely stifling for someone who was stubborn and willingly admitted it. 

“You heading out soon?” Wells asked as he shouldered his bag and looked over the cubicle wall to see Clarke’s small desk, covered with pictures of Atlantean books. 

“Yeah, in a bit,” Clarke nodded, not looking up from the notebook she was writing something down quickly. 

“I could wait around and we could go grab dinner. There’s this great place in town. Only like fifteen minutes from the main gate.” 

“I’m not sure how long a bit is going to be. I want to finish looking at this property sheet before we get samples next week.” 

Kind and bright, Wells was a soft-spoken doctoral student with a knack for keeping an eye on Clarke without being overbearing. Always firmly pressed in his khakis and tucked primly with his button downs, he hid behind thick-rimmed glasses, but ran marathons. He wasn’t overwhelming in the eye he kept on his co-worked. Sometimes, Clarke thought he might even fancy her a little bit.

When Wells didn’t say anything, Clarke looked up and offered a smile as he debated the next step for the evening. 

“Get out of here,” Clarke told him. “I won’t be too much longer, and some quiet will help me.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

“I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“Have a good weekend.” 

Clarke watched him nod and returned to her work, doing her best to transcribe an ancient language with limited training and the most basic knowledge of what some of the ancient plants used. She felt like an archaeologist, investigating something she would never truly understand, and yet she’d been there. She’d heard the words spoken. 

The ‘little bit’ she mentioned gradually turned into a while, and the evening settled outside on the water, calming it until the waves were nearly non-existent. There was still a fading light outside when Clarke closed her notebook and shut her laptop for the evening, and it only truly disappeared after she shouldered her bag and shoved in a few folders to work on over the weekend. 

With a final look around the office, Clarke nodded and made her way to the door, preparing for two long days of her parents making sure she was alright. She needed her own place, and enough space to stop thinking about--

“Lexa?” 

The same smile, the same caught look in her eyes, the same stance, the same eyes-- the entire package looked back at Clarke expectantly. Gone were the formal Atlantean clothes, and in their place was simple jeans and an old sailor’s sweater, a shoulder lovingly patched by expert hands. Gone were the intricate braids and armor, and instead a wild mane perched itself atop Lexa’s head, blown about by the wind and her hands in equal measure. 

“You’re here late.” 

“You’re here.” 

“You said you’d be close.” 

Without meaning to, Clarke took a step forward before catching herself. Lexa tucked her arms behind her back, ever vigilant to remain proper and royal. 

“Have you eaten?” Clarke finally broke the quiet. 

“You were my first stop after my grandfather’s. I don’t know my way around land that well.” 

“I’m honored.” 

“Care to show me around?” 

The question came with a grin, and Lexa extended her elbow willingly, waiting for Clarke to take it again as she hadn in the Hanging Gardens. That was all she needed, to remember that it hadn’t been a dream, that three days, three months ago happened. 

There really wasn’t a question to it at all. 

Clarke nodded, smiled, and took the arm offered to her, and whatever else would come attached.

NEXT

[blackbutterflyboi]

Oh Zalex...

So... I watched the 4th season of 13 reasons why and like everyone I was sad that Zalex wasn’t a thing - like I mean just look at them, you’re screaming in your head ‘now kiss’ at each of their scenes together :P But, now looking at the broader picture, it kinda of makes sense. Firstly, the characters in this season were great (well it’s still 13RW with it’s loads of bad writing) but unlike the previous season, they seem like kids who just made bad or not so good decisions in trying to be/do better especially in the last few episodes and looking at the ending is what it clicked at me that the Zalex situation was quite realistic...

Now we are shown again and again that they deeply care for each other and connect on an another level - the conversation before the hospital visit sums this up marvelously, when everyone sees Zach spiraling and screwing up, Alex is the only one who sees the good in him and what good he has done and is the only one who can pull him back on his feet. He knows Zach loves his friends and would do anything to protect them even if everyone else thinks Zach ditched them. The Winston/Zach scene is also very important, while the stammering can mean Zach has trouble to accept the fact he might love Alex, it can also mean that Zach realizes how much Alex means to him and how much he has done for him - at that time he is already feeling like crap (inside and out), it is shown that his relationship with his mother is tumultuous and for the past few months, he’s been out of the group and nobody reaches out to him; except Alex. I think the fact that he favours to give his last words to Bryce’s mother rather than Alex is because he knows Alex knows how much he means to Zach and that’s what’s great about their relationship even if it’s not portrayed with lots of screen-time. 

The ‘you should be with Charlie rather than me’ is again a great moment of their relationship - when seeing the coach’s letter and reading his words, Zach again realizes the disappointment he feels towards himself, his failing relationship with his mom, the absence of any trusting adult in his life, him dumping his friends, his abuse of alcohol and sex yet Alex is the only one who refuses to let him go when everyone else does...

In their scenes together, there’s always this longing for each other namely at the prom scene - each is with a partner yet there’s awkwardness and they can’t even make eye contact with each other AT ALL. While everyone who deeply cares for Alex reactions are shown at the prom dance scene (including Jessica), Zach is strangely missing.

Now, moving on to Alex’s case, Charlie’s a great and lovable character but each and every time, Alex clearly chooses Zach over him, it’s like instinctual to him. Again and again, Alex always mentions that Bryce threatened Zach but forgets to mention he also threatened Jessica. At the end of all, for Alex, Zach remains the most important person in his life. 

Alex’s ‘I love you’ to Charlie is indeed sincere but more in the sense that Charlie made him more comfortable with his sexuality (just before Alex was super against being lovey-dovey - not to mention this change takes place only after the riot during which Zach calls him out on stopping to always being afraid) and that’s why he loves him; for the happiness he made him feel - something that no-one (not even Zach) made him feel (it made me remember of his and Jessica’s scene of last season and their ‘I love you’). Same thing for Charlie, Alex was part of what made him come out and that’s why he’ll always be someone important to him, even if their relationship doesn’t make it in the long run.

Alex still feels super awkward being  in a relationship and doesn’t quite know what being a boyfriend is by the end... and that takes us to the epilogue that tells us that their high-school life is over - Hanna, Bryce and as well as their traumas; they’re leaving them behind but their life moves forward, especially with that ending scene with Clay and Tony that seems hardly like an ending scene.

I think that was what impressed me the most in the ending - it was not a wrap-up with everyone knowing what they want with their lives and the general ‘5 years later’ whereby we see all of them successful. It was only the end of high-school but not of their story. And both Alex and Zach have a lot to learn more about themselves. And the awkward distance they have in the ending kinda reflects that - come-on, there’s a clear longing for each other but they are in search of some other answers - perhaps for Alex after figuring out his sexuality, what he really wants in a relationship and how to be a better partner, for Zach what his future entails and how to make life worthwhile. 

They may actually be in love with each other but don’t think it would work - Alex already thinks Zach denied his move and Zach knows he’s just not ready to be in a serious relationship (perhaps Chloe being in one made him start questioning himself about what is in fact a serious relationship and what he lacks)

Looking at the ending, it made me realize why would it be fair for Zach and Alex to be together and figuring out their differences when everyone else hadn’t? Everyone, including these two are still figuring out stuff about their lives and their stories haven’t ended, it’s just us viewers who don’t get to see them...

But that was just the 2 cents of a Zalex fan who wished for this ship to come true and who’ll never stop shipping Zalex/Aach :)

Well, I like to think that perhaps after 2-3 years, they meet back in Evergreen and finally confess after having sorted out stuff in their lives (I’m sure the fics will come eventually :P)

[starside-selfships]

Homecoming

Tonight was certainly not in my favor for the most part. To bring you up to speed, it was homecoming night for my younger brother, along with his friends, and I was an unpaid chauffeur for them. Whether I said yes or no to my mom, which the latter would result in a scolding, I would still be driving, whether I liked it or not. I had plans to meet up with someone tonight and now, unfortunately, I had to cancel those plans. Wonderful. So much for treating myself. Saying yes to avoid any conflict between my mother and I, I was driving my brother and his group of boys and girls, one of them most likely his significant other, to the nearby high school, the same one where I graduated from, but I don’t think any of that really mattered. Sure, there were going to be people there that recognized me, but it’s not like I planned on going inside to dance or mingle. Don’t get me wrong, I was gussied up for the occasion, but with how tonight was already progressing, going inside to try and get into the groove was not on my agenda. Little did I know that I was going to be completely wrong. 

We were nearing the school as I was in the driver’s seat and I focused on the road as best I could, overhearing the conversation in the back amongst the group of seniors about how my brother was probably going to get laid or something, followed by a roar of laughter. While he was of age, as am I, I didn’t think I would be hit with a strong dose of discomfort hearing those words coming out of their mouths. Yeah, they were in high school so it made sense for them to say stuff like that. Already I began to question this night before my thoughts started to shift towards a particular someone that made my smile return after it had been gone for hours. A demon, or imp rather, down in hell that no one knew, except for a few of my closest friends who I knew could definitely keep a secret, had my heart and more. My smile remained small, but it was genuine, a chuckle eliciting from me as I continued to drive and within seconds of starting to think about him, I noticed my phone vibrating in the front passenger seat out of the corner of my eye. Look, I am, and I quote from one of my favorite content creators, a “good fucking citizen” and I would never risk my life or others because of a single text message. However, this wasn’t a single text. Whoever was trying to reach me was literally trying to nuke my phone for I counted the vibrations from listening closely to them. I didn’t bother picking up my phone so I just counted. 1...2...3...4...5...not even five minutes and I’ve somehow counted 23 and rising text messages being sent to my phone. Was it that urgent or was someone just spamming me with nonsense because I can’t remember the last time I was spammed like that and my memory is on point, not to brag or anything.

Upon pulling into one of the many parking lots of the high school, my brother and his friends began unbuckling themselves from their seats and after setting the SUV into “park”, they all got out one by one, on both sides, putting on their masks. I forgot to mention that this homecoming had a theme, which was “Monster Mash”, so zombies, mummies, your usual batch of monsters from all types of media of course, along with the special monsters that only one or two people only knew and were ready to discuss and talk about at a moment’s notice. As much as I wanted to sit in the car, I knew I was going to have to go in at some point, so earlier today, I decided I was going as a werewolf, picking up a fitting mask from the city’s costume store, but instead of just having a mask and calling it a day, it evolved into something more homemade. I spent several extra hours turning my tux into a more fitting and lycanthrope-themed outfit, dark fur lining the edges and front of my suit, outfitting myself with wolf ears and covering my face in blood to represent claw marks. Thankfully, I remembered that I had an old wolf tail, cleaning it up and hoping that the appearance was pleasing to the eye in some way and to my surprise, it certainly was. Not like anyone was going to care honestly, but you know, what’s wrong with a little bit of effort, even if no one’s going to notice?

“You’re not coming?” My brother questioned as he reached for his mask and was about to head inside with the others, earning a shake of my head as a response.

“We’ll see, you go have fun, okay?” I said, seeing him run off back to this squad and closing the car door as I rested my head on the back of my seat and sigh heavily. Finally, no one could hear or see me cry, the lights on the inside roof of the car beginning to slowly dim, shutting off completely and leaving me in darkness. “Fuck.” I whispered, trying not to choke on my tears thanks to the numerous thoughts clouding my head, many of them were memories of my high school days and how they all just generally sucked. I’m going to spare you of the details, but in short, I was a teacher’s pet who did good, had good grades, and tried so hard not to get caught up in a relationship since, well, at the time I wasn’t into anyone and nor was anyone into me. Looking back at it, I’ve never been hit with an intense pain in my life. But then, my thoughts were interrupted by another vibration. “Alright, who’s trying to nuke my phone?” I told myself as I reached over and grabbed my phone in frustration, turning the screen on and discovering that the imp himself had been sending me a flood of messages, alongside his employees, including the hellhound. “Wait, what?” I was stunned, why was I getting all these messages from I.M.P? Unlocking my phone and going through the wave of texts and images, most of them being from Blitzo, I checked the ones belonging to Millie, Loona, and Moxxie first, working my way up from there.

Millie “Hey Eli!” “Just wanted to say that I hope tonight is great for you and Blitzo!” “He has a really big surprise for you!” “Have fun you two!”

Loona “Elijah” “Heard ya weren’t feeling great” “Shit sucks but Blitz has a surprise for you later tonight” “Ain’t saying shit, but I hope you have fun” “You deserve it, alright?”

Moxxie “Dear Elijah, I certainly hope your night is swell. I overheard from my boss that it wasn’t going as planned and not to spoil anything, but he has a surprise for you later tonight. Have fun!” “p. s it’ll be a nice break from him interfering with my relationship with Millie.”

And now, all that there was left to check was Blitzo, I didn’t bother holding back my tears. Who was going to watch? Most of his texts were pictures of him looking for an outfit, getting help from a smiling Millie, annoyed Moxxie, and a Loona who looked like she didn’t really care. That’s what the realization hit me soon after. I didn’t want to believe it, but I looked through every single text again and yeah, sure enough, it was real. The imp was my date. Blitzo was my homecoming date. Another text, the last one from Blitzo for the night it seemed, sounding ominous of course.

“See ya soon, Eli. XOXO”

My smile returned once again as I regained my thoughts, clearing my head and doing my best to ignore all the negative and previous ones that arrived earlier tonight, replacing all of them with one: the fact that the imp that nearly killed me by accident was my homecoming date. The two of us have talked and spent a lot of time together, but who would’ve thought that he would be the one I would fall for and make my better in a way like this? Yeah, I was into him the most out of everyone at I.M.P. Of course, Millie and Moxxie were married and Loona, I’ll be honest, she was someone who appeared that she wasn’t too keen on dating. Blitzo, on the other hand, ever since the two of us met with him pounced over my body with a double barrel shotgun aimed directly at my face, we’re never been closer. That story about how we met is a real doozy, but it’s certainly for another time.

After waiting a little longer, I finally left the vehicle and locked the doors, stuffing the keys in my pocket and trading it for my phone, holding the mask in my other hand, my body on fire at the constant, recurring thought that wasn’t leaving anytime soon, one that pushed all the others away, a splendid thought that was the only thing I could think of. Before I knew it, I was at the front doors of the school and I followed the couples and groups, most likely students, towards the gym, looking at my phone and expecting a text, but instead, just silence. I guess all I needed to do was wait for him, and that’s what I did as I was greeted with the sound of deep bass rumbling through my body thanks to the booming speakers, along with the bright spotlights that moved around at a rapid pace, mixed with multiple multicolored strobe lights. It was a party alright. With the song that was playing as well, it was a fitting one with the theme. And lost in this party, I assumed, was a neatly dressed imp waiting for me. I walked along the edge of the gym, avoiding the growing crowd of dancers and hoping to possibly run into Blitzo at some point, only to be stopped by, unsurprisingly, one of my high school teachers. 

“Elijah, is that you? Hey kid, what brings you here?!” She asked, leaning against the wall with a drink, a red cup, yes a red cup, and wrapped in a mummy outfit, bandages covering her body, along with one eye while the other was perfectly visible.

“Just chaperoning for my brother and his friends.” I answered, which was half the truth, but how could I explain that I was waiting for my demonic plus one?

“For a chaperone, you fit in right with the crowd, nice outfit! Did you make it yourself?”

 “Yeah, I did actually.”

 “I always knew you were one of the more creative ones in the class and it shows, awesome job!” I found myself getting blushy rather quickly at her compliment, rubbing the back of my head as I continued the conversation and it soon turned into one where my heart began to race rapidly. “So, tell me, do you have a date?” I wanted to lie, but then again, I was unsure of Blitzo was my date, or even if I wanted to say he was to others, so I took a deep breath and tried to make up my mind quickly.

“Yeah, I do, he’s a bit late though, it might be a while before he gets here.”

“Who said I was late?” The imp said, grabbing ahold of my shoulder gently and wanting me to turn around so I did, my eyes meeting his and I could see that his were that wickedly bright yellow, with a hint of red in the middle. Sinister, but always a joy to look at. “Hey, cutie.” I was about to open my mouth to compliment his outfit, resembling Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas, from top to bottom, only for my teacher to butt in. This was going to be a joy.

“Oooooh, and who might this be, Elijah?! He must learn from the best because his costume’s amazing!” This was going to be a real interesting night. I was already contemplating on going back to the car.

 “The name’s Blitzo, pronounced Blitz and the O is silent, also known as this handsome guy’s boyfriend.” He said, greeting himself to-

...HOLD UP, WAIT A MINUTE. Did he just say boyfriend? Was I hearing that correctly? I wasn’t crazy, right?

“The name’s Blitzo, the O is silent, also known as this handsome guy’s boyfriend.” He said, greeting himself to-wait a minute, did he just say boyfriend? Did I hear that correctly? I wasn’t crazy, right?

“Well, Blitzo, it was really nice to meet you. Elijah was, and still is, one of my best students, creative too, you’re a lucky one.”

“Oh, trust me,” He looked over at me, a look that read ‘I love you’, his eyes appearing as if he was going to cry, but his smile was wide. “I know.” He was being completely truthful with her and myself. Not a single word he said was a lie, at least that’s what I believed. Something told me that it was true, every single word was honest and straight from the heart. “Let’s go dance, yeah?” He said softly towards me, earning a soft nod in reply and so, the two of us made our way to the dance floor. I was so nervous to ask him a single question with a plentiful rushing through my head. “Shocked, huh? Don’t be, Elijah. I know the two of us have been together for some time and I may have heard from a little birdie that you were going to be helping out your brother for some dance.” I reminisced on when I remember talking about the homecoming dance and then it hit me.

“Damn it, Angel.”

“C’mon, you missed me. You’re glad she told me too.”

“Yeah, I did. But, like, didn’t you have some more important stuff, like work? And your horse to take care of?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Work’s slow and boring and Moxxie’s watching over her so, I’m free for the night! What better way to spend my night with my new boyfriend too?” He said, pressing his lips against my cheek and sending my heart sky high, my hand on his beginning to clench. “Easy cowboy, it was just a kiss. We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff, you know.” Okay, now he was just trying to get me flustered really early. We made jokes about that stuff, but was he being serious? About all of this?

“I was actually going to ask about that. Do you, like, you’re actually interested in me, right?” He stopped in his tracks and the two of us were halted together, surrounded by multiple dancing groups and couples, I could sense the music that was once pounding in my ears beginning to die out, soon Blitzo’s voice was the only thing I could hear. “All those times we’ve been together, from the day you were in my bed ready to kill me and only to discover you were in the wrong house to all those times we’ve spent in Hell and on the surface, to that one time you were actually full-on naked in my bed and I was nearly caught, you’re being honest with me, right?”

“Elijah,” Blitzo began, reaching for my other hand to hold it tight, gazing into my eyes and I soon lost myself in them, my focus and attention being grabbed and held by him and him alone. “I’m being one hundred percent honest with you. If I killed you, I would’ve missed a chance like this and, god fucking dammit, I’m trying not to cry here.”

“Trust me, I’ve already done that tonight, you’re good.” I joked, the two of us laughing as his claw-like hands gripped mine.

“But yeah, I’m serious. From the bottom of my heart, Elijah. No bullshit. I love you. Yeah, you’re a human and I nearly killed you, but that night I met you and nearly blew your brains out, was probably the fucking day of my whole eternal suffering, as they usually say. That’s, that’s what they say, right?” Hearing that filled my heart with an intense amount of joy and soon, I felt my worries wash away. Who would’ve thought that I would not only fall in love with a demon below the surface of this Earth, but an imp who was not only charming, but skilled at his profession? A professional that was basically assassination. Then again, he just straight up kills anyone he’s paid to kill alongside the other three. “You can cry all you want, okay?” I didn’t want to, especially in front of Blitzo.

“Oh, shut up. I love you too.” I said, earning a nice laugh from him. Moments later, the music shifted from the usual extremely bumping and loud beat into something more mellow, but you could still dance to. A song that people weren’t really a fan of, but for me, and surprisingly Blitzo, it was perfect. To my surprise, the imp knew the damn lyrics.

Oh, don’t you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me. I said, you’re holding back. He said, shut up and dance with me! This demon is my destiny. He said, ooh-ooh-hoo! Shut up and dance with me!

The two of us followed suit and already had the floor so who was gonna stop us? No one was certainly going to stop Blitzo and for me, I was already lost in the moment, I could only see Blitzo and I losing ourselves in the music together, singing and dancing along. No distractions or disturbances as we let loose. Unbeknownst to me, the crowd around us had cleared and it was just me and Blitzo dancing to the beat with a silent audience cheering on a human and his boyfriend, unaware that he was truly a demon. I didn’t care about any of that mess now, I was overjoyed to be dancing with my imp boyfriend under the moving spotlight, the two of us grabbing the attention of all the other costumed people standing by and watching us. It didn’t even feel like they were there.

Deep in his eyes I think I see the future I realize this is my last chance! He took my arm I don’t know how it happened We took the floor and he said…

Oh, don’t you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said, you’re holding back He said, shut up and dance with me This demon is my destiny He said, ooh-ooh-hoo! Shut up and dance!

The final chorus continued to play and the two of us were going at it, I could sense and hear quiet cheers and wolf whistles, yet Blitzo’s voice filled my ears and drowned it all out.

Ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me!

And just like that, the music halted and the two of us were in a bit of a position, me dipping and holding his body down, our eyes locked onto each other, the crowd coming back to life with a roar of an applause. They witnessed everything and as much as I wanted to look around and see everyone, Blitzo kept my face looking directly at his. “Hey, don’t focus on them. It’s okay.” I smiled down at him and nodded, the music shifting back into something more exciting and full of life and sending the crowd’s back onto the floor.

 “I didn’t know you were so good at dancing, Blitzo.” I said, complimenting him on his dancing and wondering where he picked that up, then again, it hit me that he’s been bugging a married couple for Satan knows how long, and he’s been on the surface a few times.

 “You go around, you know some folks, you pick up some new things, learn a few tricks.” There was a small moment of silence. “Alright, I picked it up from Moxx and Mills.” I had a feeling. Right as I was about to say something while bringing back up onto his feet, I was the one to be dipped this time and caught off guard. “Now pucker up, cutie~” And with that, Blitzo kissed me sweetly and passionately, my vision getting blurry as my eyes fluttered and my heart was more soothed and relaxed. I will admit that Blitzo has kissed me on numerous occasions, but this was something he never pulled or did and it was immensely surprisingly and completely satisfying. I didn’t want to ruin the moment at all. In fact, I wanted to make it even better. So I decided to surprise Blitzo with something up my sleeve, slipping my tongue into his mouth and catching him off guard, only for our tongues to collide and intertwine with each other, his claws yanking and gripping me closer to his body, our lips still locked together for a good couple of seconds and right as we finally pulled away, there was an embarrassing amount of saliva attached to my lips and his, a dark blush hitting both our faces. “Well, that was, I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“Yeah, wasn’t expecting that kiss either, heh.” The silence between us was high but was soon broken with Blitzo speaking up again.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it. I know you’re probably thinking it too, are you going to make love to me already or what?” My eyes widened in surprise, my body heating up in response and while I was expecting a lewd comment or question, he was just completely straightforward with it, no hints, or riddles, just straight from the head.

“C-Can we go to the car now, like, right now?” I asked, hoping he could sense the desperateness in my voice, along with the look of lust in my eyes. Yeah, he definitely saw it, without a doubt. That smile of his, how he licked his lips in front of me, shooting a sexy glare at me, tonight was going to be a ride, in more ways than one as Blitzo swiftly picked me up in his arms and carried me towards the car bridal-style, grabbing a few eyeballs as he did.

“Of course~” We soon made our way outside and Blitzo finally set me down, not even bothering to look around if there were any watchers who were late to the party, as if he were planning something.

“Something wrong?” He didn’t reply with a vocal answer, but instead, what came next was what made this entire night probably the best homecoming ever. I’m going to spare the details, but what came next was pretty saucy.

Sometime Later…

I found myself rising out of bed to the sight of several dimmed lights and within seconds, the awareness hit me hard. I wasn’t at home. I was in Blitzo’s home. “Morning, sleepyhead.” The imp to my side greeted, not wearing anything like me as I hid myself under the sheets. I half-expected him to be dressed in some cute horse-themed pjs, but no, he was full-on naked under the sheets, his legs touching mine.

“Hey, Blitzo. I, umm, should I ask how I got here?” I questioned, preparing myself for the story that Blitzo had to tell, this should be good.

“Before you ask, because I have a feeling that’s the first thing you’re thinking about, your brother and his friends are fine. They got home safely and then I brought you down here to rest!” Blitzo explained, my eyes widening in fear at the idea of what he could’ve possibly done.

“For the love of God, Blitzo, please tell me the car’s in one piece. Please tell me no one got hurt.” I begged, shaking in anticipation, and not even hearing the room door open as I turned to see Moxxie come in.

“Actually, I helped drive,” The other imp claimed. “Not to be rude towards your new boyfriend, Elijah, but I had a very strong feeling that if my boss were to drive, it wouldn’t be pleasant. That and he introduced himself and the rest of us to your brother and friends.” Blitzo, you did not. You did fucking not.

“What, they were nice!”

“Sir, excuse my language, but you fucking scared them!” When Moxxie said those words, I didn’t even want to imagine how he scared and possibly scared them for life.

“Oh my God, Blitzo, why…”

“Don’t worry about it, Eli, you’re lucky I didn’t tell them about our little love-making session.”

“Sir, that’s WAY too much information.”

I didn’t know how to feel exactly with my brother knowing about Blitzo and the others, but as the conversation between him and Moxxie continued, I couldn’t help but think about that night, what I experienced with Blitzo and the things we did together, how he confessed his love and then made love to me. It felt unreal to think about knowing that the imp I spent the most time with actually liked me that way. That’s when I smiled and felt really glad that night ended up being in my favor.

[friendlyfrat-boy]

The Straw-Hat Among Us Ch.5

Green: Roronoa Zoro

”Nobody move,” Zoro barked.

He’d heard something. Something heavy and dull had hit the floor, and damn everything if he wasn’t keeping everyone calm and collected. If someone had been killed… Even if someone had in fact been murdered mere moments ago, in the midst of a fucking crowd, panicking would only muddle what little clues that had.

What they needed now was not to run around like headless chickens, it was to get the lights on. As the Electrician, this was his duty. “I’ll go fix the lights, nobody move a single step.”

Nobody answered, but the silence was enough for Zoro to know his words had gone through. The thump had come from right in front of him, a little to the right, so all he could do was hope that nothing too bad had happened. That could wait for later, though. At this moment, his focus was more on retracing the steps they took and returning to Electrical.

The door to the outside was closed again. At this damn time. Zoro fished out his ID-card and swiped it. The door gave a pssh and opened, allowing Zoro exit into the fenced outside, slightly brighter than the inside due to the flashing lightning above the reactors.

There was someone there, standing by the electrical box. Who could possibly be out and about? Could it be the killer? Or one of them?

“Ahhhhh, Zoroooooo! It’s good you came, I have no idea how these-,” Kizaru stopped himself, eyes falling on some undefined point beneath Zoro’s face. His hands stalled completely in shock.

“What the hell is it?” Zoro growled, maybe a little too irritated for his own good, especially since Kizaru hadn’t done anything.

“I, uh,” Kizaru stuttered, pointing a trembling index at Zoro’s chest.

In turn, Zoro glanced down.

And was promptly met with a vast expanse of still-wet blood. Parts of it had even dripped down the entirety of his suit, marring his boots and dripping into the snow below. There wasn’t any question of it any longer. Someone in there had been killed in a most flashy manner, and Zoro was absolutely covered in his blood.

He had to physically stop himself from desperately wiping at his suit. This was evidence. As much as he hated this, he couldn’t remove it without removing something that might allow them to catch the killer.

“...Kizaru, before we go about accusing, we need to get the lights back on,” Zoro bit out, fearlessly stepping closer to him. His boots left bloody prints in the snow behind him, but he tried to ignore it as best as he could. “Is that clear?”

“Huh? Uh, ummmm… Yeaaahhh?” Kizaru answered, stepping aside as Zoro got to work. Luckily, his hands were unsullied, meaning that he didn’t get any unidentified blood on the delicate wiring. “Um, Zorooooo?”

Zoro leaned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on his work. Someone had really had fun here. “Yeah?”

“What happened in theeeeere? Is everyone alriiiiight?” Kizaru asked, and going by the sound of it, he was genuinely worried.

Zoro shrugged. “We don’t know yet. The lights went out, I heard a thud, so I went out here and now…” And now he knew for a fact that someone wasn’t alright. Not that he could do anything about it at this moment. All he could do was connect a few severed wires, turn on the disconnected servers, and…

Light streamed into the outside from the inside, proving that the lights had gone on.

And in the next moment, a scream rang out, followed by gasps and movement. “-Fuck,” Zoro muttered. Can’t rest for a second. While he ran back to O2, he could tell Kizaru was following him, which was probably a pretty good thing. He didn’t trust him much, and not from how he spoke or anything, just… How could Zoro possibly know if Kizaru had been in Electrical to fix the wires or to tamper with them?

Zoro filed that little possible suspicion into another file. It could wait. Right now they had to-,

They arrived in O2.

Someone had died alright. Judging by the purple suit and the pale complexion… it must have been Caesar. Even when Zoro and Kizaru returned, no eyes turned to them. They were fixated on a certain man dressed in pink. His fists balled were his side, a dark tremble coursing through his body.

Zoro stared sharp-eyed as Doflamingo leaned down, hand reaching over to Caesar’s head to lift it ever-so-slightly.

It was a grisly sight, really. The head was only attached by a thin sliver of skin and flesh, stale blood dripping lazily from it. Eyes and mouth wide open.

Yet, Zoro stared not at Caesar, but at Doflamingo. His face had darkened significantly, the mere look in his shaded eyes bringing the rest of the group to silence.

“Who did this?” Doflamingo growled in a low, guttural voice, his bestial eye darting about the room, glaring deep, stabbing daggers into every single member of the crew, Zoro included. “Who killed him?”

Nobody spoke a word. Nobody dared so much as question Doflamingo. Not that anybody could answer him either.

But the silence could only go on for so long. “Calm the hell down,” Smoker said. “All you’re doing here is making things worse than they already are.”

“How can it possibly be worse?!” Doflamingo snapped, baring his teeth like a rabid animal. “I don’t trust you. You know why? You’re way too calm. People die, and you take over as leader like everything’s humpty-dory. Like the situation isn’t getting to you in the least, and that disgusts me. You act as-, as if nobody’s going to die again! As if we aren’t going to turn on each other and point fingers and continue this twisted little game!”

Smoker glanced away. A shadow flitted over his face. “I’m keeping it together.” He glanced down at Doflamingo where he sat in a pool of blood, pink stained with red, shaking and foaming at the mouth. “Someone has to.”

Doflamingo seethed, teeth grinding together noisily.

But things had already gone too far. “Nobody move,” Zoro repeated, finally getting some attention on himself. “We need to handle this calmly. And that begins with everyone taking it easy and looking around.” Zoro glanced down at the body. A wound like that wouldn’t leave anyone nearby unbloodied.

The eyes on him slowly drifted down. People noticed the blood on him, and Zoro could do nothing but sigh, shoulders dropping. Though, on closer inspection, he was hardly alone in being completely bloody. He was almost about to disregard Doflamingo as a suspect since he must have gotten this bloody while inspecting Caesar’s body, but that wasn’t entirely so. No, he had a few splotches on his back that couldn’t have come from going down on his knees.

The only other people apart from Zoro who were bloodied were Usopp and Buggy, albeit by far less than Zoro himself.

In other words, the only person there who wasn’t covered in blood was… Smoker.

Oh, and Kizaru, but he was too far away from the body to be a suspect to begin with. Then again, not suspecting him at all would be more foolish than suspecting himself.

“Z-, Zoro, you’re all covered in blood!” Usopp said, somehow not in an accusatory way, more so worryingly. “Wait, you too, Buggy!” And somewhere along the way, he must have glanced down at himself. “And-, and ME!!” Usopp almost collapsed right then and there, swaying and noodle-legged.

Zoro nodded. “Except for Kizaru and Smoker, we were all close enough to the murder to be sprayed. Logically speaking, one of us did it. Who, I cannot say.”

“I, uh, um, can I clean it off?...” Usopp gestured to the blood on his chest, “p-, please?...”

Zoro shook his head. “If you tamper with evidence, I’ll assume you’re the killer.”

Usopp gulped but didn’t say anything else.

“He was bit,” Doflamingo muttered, leaned over Caesar’s body. “Something bit into his neck, gouging out most of it.” He scoffed. “No surprise we’re all covered in blood. Almost more surprising one wouldn’t be.”

“Heeeeeey, I didn’t do anything!” Kizaru said in a meek defence.

Doflamingo clicked his tongue. “I wasn’t talking about you. Not that you aren’t suspicious in your own right. Don’t think I didn’t see that tunnel right next to your little hidey-hole. Bet in comes in handy for sneaking in and out.”

Kizaru crossed his arms, a little pout appearing on his face. “If you waaaant, you can see when I’m on the cams or nooooot. If I’m not there, the light isn’t blinkinnnnng.”

“Hah! As if you couldn’t have a ‘friend’ come over and take over for a moment! Your arguments are ridiculous, murderer.”

Tapping his foot, Kizaru turned away, actually a bit peeved over being suspected.

Usopp took a step closer to Doflamingo. “Hey-, hey, now, take it easy, there, we’ll figure this out! No need for any accusations or nothings!”

Doflamingo growled, clearly not above turning on the poor kid in turn. Oh, well. This had gone on far enough. Standing around here was almost disrespectful to the body, and even more so to the group as a whole. They had to figure this out, and not by shouting petty insults at each other.

Reaching down low, Zoro pressed the button on the side of Caesar’s broken helmet, and stood back up once the red light in his own helmet started flashing.

Doflamingo, who had been too focused on thinking up something suspicious about Usopp now jerked around, a ferocious glare sent at Zoro.

“Come on, let’s go.” With that said, Zoro stood up. People started filing out of the room without much complaint, but Doflamingo lingered around the body, shooting hesitating glances between the leaving crewmembers and the body. Zoro stopped, turned around, and established eye-contact with Doflamingo. “...Just take his body.”

He didn’t reply. Not verbally, at least. He stood up, clutched the body close to his chest, and carried it outside while Zoro followed.

A few minutes later, they were all collected in the Office, waiting for Doflamingo to return. Soon enough, even he returned, chest and arms smeared with blood. Zoro already knew that they wouldn’t see a smile on his face anytime soon. And with that, everyone sat in their seats, generally more spread out now than before.

And it wasn’t just their dwindling numbers either. No, even though Doflamingo should have been sitting right next to Buggy, he’d moved his chair a bit to take up the space Caesar left.

There were only six of them left. Barely half had died, and yet they felt so few. “...Let’s review the facts,” Zoro said, taking lead for no other reason than because it felt right. “To begin with, neither Kizaru nor Smoker are to be exempt from this ruling.” Kizaru seemed a bit surprised by this. “-The reason I say this is because of several little… reasons. Suspicions.”

“Let me guess, nothing concrete?” Buggy asked, eyeing the splotch of blood by his own collar and chest with no little apprehension.

Zoro shook his head. “Kizaru is suspicious on account of what he could do, what his role implies. There is no proof that he tampered with the lights, but if he did, he could write off his tampering as trying to fix it. Furthermore, with his role as Security Guard, he’d easily be able to know where everyone was, such as where Marco was or when Shanks left the Shuttle.” He paused for a moment, a thought striking him. “If I remember the floor plans correctly, the tunnel behind the CCTV room should lead to a hole beside the fence outside of Electrical.”

Usopp mumbled something, but once he received a number of looks, he repeated it louder. “Ah, erm, well, that isn’t quite proof, is it?”

“No, but it’s a damn good reason to suspect him.”

Beside Zoro, Smoker nodded as well.

“What about Smoker?” Buggy squinted at the taller man, “what’s up with him?” As it seems, the red-nosed clown was only asking it as a sort of formality. Everyone should be doubted, even those who really ought to be exempt. Smoker himself did not object to this suggestion, at least not verbally.

“The only thing suspicious about Smoker is how unsuspicious he is. There isn’t a spot of blood on him, despite being one of the three people closest to the body. Though, we should remember that this is no real reason to suspect him either. This isn’t the kind of murder that you can come out of without any blood on you.” At this point, Zoro noticed how Usopp was staring at his chest, not at his eyes. “-Everything alright, Usopp?”

“Huh? Oh, um! Uh… I just, well, if we’re going by the ‘someone-who’s-bloody-did-it’, aren’t you, I dunno, the most suspicious one here?...”

A fair point. Looking at the people present, it’s obvious who got the most blood on them. Doflamingo got a small bit on his back, Buggy and Usopp both got loads on their chest and collars, and Zoro is almost completely covered from the chest and down, although his legs mostly got covered by the blood running down his legs. “I would be, if I was the imposter.”

Doflamingo shot a dark glare at Zoro. “He was bit in the neck, severing the large arteries. The one closest to the body would’ve gotten sprayed the most. The closer, the more intensely. The speed of it would cause a large amount of blood to run down the length of their body. Going by the blood patterns,” his eyes sharpened, “you would be the most suspect of us all.”

Zoro raised his hands in surrender. “I would be, if I was the imposter, which I’m not.”

“Hah, sure!” Doflamingo said with a cackle. “Just as your partner told you, no?”

Crossing his arms, Zoro felt a glower twist his face. This vengeful bastard would be the death of him. Literally, too! “You’re suspicious too, you know.”

Doflamingo cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, really now? And why is that?”

Luckily, Zoro actually had an answer there. “We can’t assume you’re acting faithfully. You could have bided your time this whole time, strengthening your alibi through Caesar until you disposed of him. Then, once the lights came on, you could go down to his side and smear the blood already on you by using his body as a paintbrush. If you left some sort of proof on the body, you could have also disposed of it just no-,”

“HOW DARE YOU!?!” Doflamingo roared, flying to his feet. “Implying that-, that I’d slay my fellow man! For what? For the sake of the kill?! You insignificant tapeworm, speaking as though you evade suspicion!”

Zoro scowled, readying himself for an argument before Buggy stood up, stopping any such turn. “Calm down, you flashy idiots! This is the time for-, for logical debate, not name-calling!” He sat back down, leaning back with his arms crossed. “Sheesh, going at each other’s throats like rabid animals.” He soon received the darkest of glares from a certain Doctor. “Oh, um, sorry. It was in poor taste.”

“Bet your fat, red nose it was.”

“WHAT WAS THAT YOU-,”

“B-, Buggy! Relax!”

Surprisingly, at Usopp’s gentle coaxing, Buggy visibly relaxed, though it was clear his anger seethed just beneath the surface.

“And him, then?” Doflamingo asked, gesturing to Buggy. “Tell me about why he would be suspicious.”

Zoro shrugged. Honestly, he hadn’t given it much thought. “It could’ve been the same situation as with you, but… Usopp is alive, and apart from the blood, there’s nothing incriminating about him.” Much like himself, that is.

“What about Usooooooopp?” Kizaru asked, breaking his silence after a long while.

Zoro tilted his head. “-What about him?”

“What about him is suspiciouuuuuuus?”

Furrowing his brows, Zoro had to give it some actual thought. Usopp was alright, wasn’t he? He was covered in blood, but going by the way he glanced at the blood on his own and Zoro’s suit, he obviously wasn’t very happy with it, unlike what some inhuman alien would be. Sure, he could just be a great actor, but Zoro could tell that this wasn’t just all faked. He knew his friend well enough to know that.

N-, not that he didn’t not trust him or anything! “He… he’s covered in blood, but that’s the only reason to suspect him.”

Kizaru seemed somewhat unsatisfied with the answer, but still nodded.

Out of pretty much nowhere, Smoker raised his hand. “Final question before we get into the meat of the discussion… should we assume Teach was an imposter or not?”

An entirely necessary question. As they had been discussing earlier, whether or not Teach was an imposter was unconfirmed until they got the other one. If they killed the other imposter and the killings stopped they would know Teach was the one, but until then, they can’t know. “-We’ll assume he wasn’t the one, but still discuss the what-if’s of if he was an imposter, which he hopefully was.”

Smoker nodded, happy with the assessment.

“To begin with, Zoro said, turning to Kizaru. “We’ll assume for the sake of argument that Kizaru was an imposter and that he caused the blackout.” Zoro ignored the upset “hey!” he got from the mentioned member. “If that is the case, who did the actual murder? The one who did it had to have been liable for having part in all other events, meaning that Buggy, Usopp and Doflamingo are off the table since they were in duos before this.”

A beat passed before Zoro realized what he said.

“-Still, I didn't do it. If-, if we assume Kizaru wasn’t it, then it's possible that one of the two duos included both imposters, and since Caesar’s dead, that would mean that Buggy and Usopp are both imposters, in which case-,”

“But that isn’t possibleeeee? I was watching them the whooooole time,” Kizaru drawled out, his calm eyes containing an odd, sharp edge to them that Zoro hadn’t noticed before. He swallowed hard.

“Well, okay, it isn’t Buggy or Usopp. Then, if it was just one of them, like Buggy, for example, working together with one outside member, they could-,”

Doflamingo drew a sharp breath. “You really don’t want to accuse Usopp, do you?”

“Wh-, what?” Zoro turned to Doflamingo, face dark and flushed.

“Just a thing I’ve noticed. Buggy is one thing, but when it comes to Usopp… Oh, you’d rather accuse yourself.” Here his voice turned cool, icy cool, a frozen razorblade. “Why is that?”

Shit. There were so many eyes on him. Not many, not as many as those that had turned on Teach, but the emotion was the same. “If… if we assume that Kizaru and Smoker worked together-,”

“Or,” Smoker said, turning a half-lidded eye on Zoro, “how about we assume that you and Kizaru did it? Or you and Usopp. Even better, you alone. How would that pan out?”

Zoro stammered. “I-, it, stop that! I’ve done nothing wrong, damn it! I’m not the killer, stop looking at me like that!”

“Um, Zoro?...” a meek, faint voice Zoro knew all-too-well asked. He turned to Usopp. The younger man glanced between Zoro and his blood-stained chest. “Did-, what did you do to the real Zoro?...”

His eyes widened. He simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was a lot he could believe, a lot of suspicions he could face, but from Usopp?... “You too?...”

“I damn well knew it,” Doflamingo spat. “I knew you’d be the one. I should’ve voted you off before you-, before this all happened.” He turned to Smoker, to Buggy, to Usopp, and to Kizaru. “Let’s vote. Don’t listen to that cold-blooded killer. He’ll muddy your mind with uncouth thoughts.”

Zoro couldn’t even reply. The voting mechanism came up.

He stared at it as if he was drowning, a hundred feet below the pulsating surface, looking at his single thread of life. His lifeline. If he voted right…

He pressed skip.

This had to work. It had to.

Otherwise, not only would they be voting off an innocent man, but they’d be doing it instead of a guilty one.

The projector came on, and the results were shown. Zoro’s heart sank on the spot, his shoulders slumped and he stared at the ground with such vengeance that one might have thought it hurt him personally.

There were three votes for Zoro, one from Doflamingo, one from Buggy, and one from Usopp.

Two decided to skip, namely Zoro and Kizaru.

Smoker, unlike last round, voted for Buggy. Considering that the only one who voted for Zoro last round was Smoker, this was a bit odd. It was obvious Buggy took this personally and wanted to lash out at him, but at the moment, nobody was light enough of heart to allow it.

Everyone stared at Zoro.

He stood up, and walked towards the exit with large, confident strides, passing by the card-swiper and ID-reader. Behind him, the rest of the crewmembers meekly followed. He glanced at the machine that read the vitals of everyone aboard. Four dead. Grey lines among green, jagged peaks and valleys. Soon he’d be one of the flats.

He grit his teeth, and continued his dance with death. The pit of lava stretched out before him like a red carpet. Four souls lingered in there, the smell of sulfur and nitrate emanating from it.

Zoro walked out onto the plank, and turned around. They were staring at him. Asking him to do what they couldn’t tell him to.

He reached out his arms at his sides. A trembling smirk crowned his face.

“I will die facing the heavens!”

He took the plunge, falling backwards into death.

Facing that clear, empty sky.

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: Heart of a Youth – Serenity, Ingenuous and Principled

Translator’s Note: I take a break from the acting analysis articles and bring you something more current... I hope all of us can draw strength from this!

Original Article:https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404480985398902834#_0 Original Author: 雪色烟波里

“He is but a child of 30 years old.”

Quite frequently, the phrase “He is just a child” had been used as an excuse by fans, and I am not sure since when this has changed to become a way of mockery. Even before fans uttered anything on this, “bystanders” would have started going crazy with “although he made a mistake, he is still a child! So we should not let this go!”. I agreed very much with this statement – no one should use the identity of a child to absolve his responsibilities as an adult, an adult should act as one. However, when they started using this phrase on Xiao Zhan, and added his age as a form of mockery, this started to stink…

I felt as though I was personally insulted, since I am a self-claimed young girl nearing the age of 30. Using someone’s age as an insult is very impolite, since no one escapes the fate of becoming a 30 year old.

Always realistic about his age, and his self-deprecating laugh when he speaks of his entry to entertainment business 

To me, being of a certain age and yet having a heart of a youth is not conflicting. Some 18 year old could be methodical, sleek and boring, while others could be 80 and still retain their heart of a child, innocent and unblemished. As for Xiao Zhan, he had always positioned himself as an adult, and never used any excuses to shrink from his responsibilities, and therefore when his age was used as a weapon against him, and calling him a “30 year old child”, is definitely inappropriate. However, in the current darkness, I was able to see his heart of youth and his simplicity.  And I would put this across with the following phrase. 

A poem is always hard to translate, and therefore I give you the caption words instead. Serenity, ingenuous and principled.

SERENITY

“I always reminded myself, for many things, there is no need to openly display that on the screen, but you should just quietly do, and your efforts would always be seen. There is no need to fight for everything, and fighting for screen time would definitely be something not needed.” —- Xiao Zhan

The clip below was shot on 1 Feb 2016, when Xiao Zhan just debuted. Not vying or fighting might sound ridiculous in the world of adult, but this encompassed the entirety of Xiao Zhan’s acting career. No matter whether he was a side character, a supporting character or the lead character, he had always been quiet and low-key.

Moving automatically to the side for ”Joy of Life“ announcement press conference

In his group, he is willing to be on the sides and become part of the background, always all smiles but never speaking much, always wanting to do his personal best, but never looking for any rewards. In most of the concerts, he would be in the corner, running across the stage to get into position, but never skimping on his dance moves. 

Xiao Zhan when his group was still active 

Xiao Zhan during the Talent Show, as bright as the sun 

I liked to watch Xiao Zhan’s stage performances very much. From a technical perspective, his dance skills were way off from that of a professional’s, but you could definitely feel his enthusiasm no matter how far off to the side he was. Instead of admirable skills, he utilized more of his ability to inject emotions into his performances, creating an atmosphere of joy and passion. He enjoyed every single of his performances with passion. No matter whether there were flowers or applause for him, he always gave his 100% to the stage. For one to understand his dancing style, gifs are not enough; I would recommend watching his fan focused videos to understand better. 

Enjoying the stage with all of him 

That infectious smile

As a group vocal, Xiao Zhan is quite decent – his high notes are clear, his tone clean and warm, and generally very unique. Personally, I enjoy many of his China themed songs, never tiring from songs such as Qu Jin Chen Qing [曲尽陈情] (Wei Wuxian OST from the Untamed) and the cover of A Laugh over the Blue Sea [沧海一声笑] (OST from the The Smiling, Proud Wanderer movie).

Recently, there were many who mocked at him for being an idol vocal but not knowing how to use an in-ear monitor, but they never thought about whether a vocal of a relatively unknown idol group would have the right to his own personal in-ear monitor. He had to borrow for his performances, and if he was not able to adjust in time, he would just have to bear with it, because he had no right to complain. After he attained some fame, he was able to finally get his own in-ear monitor, and he immediately started learning from his mentors, so what is there to mock? I only saw a person who was able to practice patience in adversity, work hard and progress in good times. By watching the entire series of “Our Song”, you would have a better understanding of his vocal skills.

Xiao Zhan during the rehearsal of Our Song 

Xiao Zhan singing “My China Heart” on CCTV 

After attaining some level of fame, Xiao Zhan did not let that get to his head, but instead clearly understood his current position, and that popularity could be temporary, only his works would be the basis of his career. Many of his colleagues would describe him as “hardworking and down-to-earth”. In terms of his career, he never slacked off any of his jobs, always prepared and went all out. In interpersonal relations, he was always polite and restrained, and treated everyone around him modesty and warmth. His attitude towards his acting was that he always had to do better than what he did previously. His sense of serenity was not limited to just himself or to his future, and this instead created endless possibilities for his future. 

Always grateful 

He never liked to claim credit, never cared about having commendations – when the host said that the Summer of 2019 belonged to Wei Wuxian, he replied that the Summer of 2019 belonged to The Untamed. When the fans were looking forward to his undubbed performances, he instead pointed out that the voice actors did plenty of value add. When the host asked him about that famous clip of him tearing up during script reading, he instead pointed out Xuan Lu and said that she was also tearing up but it was not captured on screen. You can understand how emotionally intelligent and humble he was just from a few interviews.

Humble, kind and sincere

Detailed and polite 

He believed that hard work could change his fate, his faith almost like that of a fresh-faced youth – he did not care about everything else, except that if he did well enough he would be eventually rewarded. However, is the world really like this? He opened a path with his stubborn simplicity, and forced his way out, but now he has tripped and fallen. While everyone else is cheering and trying to add fuel to the flames, looking at this “entertainment business oddity” paying the price for not keeping to the “rules”, there may be just a handful of us reflecting on why it would be so difficult for a normal person to succeed. Does it mean that eking out a path on your own with just courage would only result in failure? This is something I refuse to believe. I will wait, and wait for him to stand again, to prove to the world that a person can create his own path with hard work, and we can follow every of his steps and not be defeated easily! 

We will not be easily defeated 

INGENUOUS

On why he did not change his Weibo account after joining the entertainment business:

“I did not change because there was no need to. There is nothing to hide from the others. In those times, in 2010, that was exactly how I felt, I’m very open, I feel that there’s really nothing. In fact, this proves that my personality is not what everyone thinks as “super nice”, I’m just a living person, I feel that no one is perfect, and I don’t want to be a perfect doll.” —- Xiao Zhan

Ingenuous

He did not change his Weibo account after 5 years in the entertainment business, he had always been a candid person. However, he overestimated the world’s tolerance and kindness, and all his personal inside jokes from his commoner days had been used to smear his and his friends’ reputation. Now, if you open Weibo, you would can see all the cyber-bullying against him, as though he had done a heinous crime, but the basis of all these were just some vulgarities he said 10 years ago. Is not the world ridiculous? Based on this, I could have been the most evil girl online, if whatever I said in Baidu Forums were ever exposed, since not only I used vulgarities, I also mocked posters who made a fool of themselves, but these history does not stop me from choosing to be a kind and upright person today. A person is ever-changing, and if we had to gauge a person’s current state on what he did 10 years ago, wouldn’t that be narrow minded? In fact, the Weibo environment 10 years ago is different from that of today, and it is ridiculous to impose current rules on something that was done 10 years ago. I respect all who are candid about themselves, and I would want to be such a person as well, and face the world with an open mind. 

The cyber-bullying could be seen everywhere 

This is overboard… and also something I rather not translate 

Xiao Zhan did not deliberately create any persona, and his candid nature in handling himself is very obvious. He did not pretend to be someone he was not, did not shy away from showing his anxiety, and always used his true self to face everything:

During his Milan interview, he said excitedly that this was his first time to Europe.

During his time in X-Fire, on his first high speed rail trip, he was so excited that he recorded a vlog on it.

During one of their group activities, the organizers arranged for them to stay in an luxurious hotel, and he was so excited that he recorded another vlog on it, showing off the hotel as well as the huge bathtub.

When faced with a cat, he would smile in spite of himself. And he would play with random cats, be accidentally scratched by one and had to go for jabs.

His phone wallpaper had always been of “The God of Fortune”

His eyes would brighten up when he speaks or hears of money.

In fact, if you study him long enough, you would know that he is not perfect, but just a vivid, living person like each and everyone of us.

“This is my first time to Europe” “I just felt, wow, this is amazing!”

His excited face on his way to the high speed rail 

His excitement introducing his hotel room, and whoever used this to spread rumors is just plain evil 

An ingenuous gentleman, his heart pure and clear, he does not need to be secretive about himself, nor does it need to disguise himself. This is the Xiao Zhan I know, and I accept every of his imperfections, and I am willing to work with him to become a better person. I hope that when I am nearing 30 years old, I would still be exuberant when I encounter the first snows of that year. 

And I hope that your heart will always remain clear, and your eyes forever starry 

PRINCIPLED

“I feel that youth is that strength, just that strength, undaunted, undefeated by fate and fearless.” —- Xiao Zhan

In Everlasting Classics, Xiao Zhan sang “Bamboo in the Rock”. To be a person, one would strive to be a gentleman. To be a gentleman, one would strive to be like bamboo – unwavering against strong winds, and upright between the heaven and earth.

Relentlessly holding onto the mossy hill The roots buried within broken rocks Tough and strong despite endless erosion and assault Firmly against winds from all directions

Xiao Zhan said that his inner self is like bamboo, firm and tenacious. Many would scoff at this, and say that he did not do enough to control his fans. But is this really the issue of him not providing guidance for his fans? In fact, he has always been telling his fans, but this had been hijacked by the racket of public opinion.

“I can see that you say that studying is difficult, or work makes you unhappy, but growth is like climbing a mountain, the bigger it is, the harder it is, leave your grouses in your heart, when you look back at these problems again, you will realize that they were not difficult.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Actually, I want to tell everyone that no matter whether schooling or working, don’t forget to love life, to experience life and notice everything around you, love it!” —- Xiao Zhan

“There are both sides to everything, there are people who likes you and there will definitely be people who doesn’t like you, you don’t have to care too much about it. As long as we have good momentum, there will be more who will like us, and I will fight hard for those who likes us.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone hear those?

“Idol and fans are actually symbiotic, we support each other and move forward together. When we live our respective lives well and continue to become better selves.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Hence I would say that my fans, I feel that you must first live your lives well so that you have spare time to like and follow the idol you like.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone remember those?

“I am actually very careful, because now I represent not just Xiao Zhan, but my team as well, and if not for myself, there is no need to create unnecessary trouble. Frankly speaking, I haven’t met anything I can’t quite solve myself. But for many problems, others could only provide some opinions, give some directions, cheer you on, but they can’t really solve it for you. How to persist, how to endure, still all depends on myself, because only I know what really happened.” —- Xiao Zhan

“I feel that the ideal status is not changed by regrets. What is most important about life is making sure we live in the present and live well, and not regret the past. The present and future are the most important.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone understand these?

He never stopped his guidance, but many were blind to them. Xiao Zhan’s firm attitude comes from being strict with himself, instead of becoming a nagging teacher disciplining his countless fans. A person could choose the person to like, but the person could not choose who would like him. Some people could not even be disciplined by their parents, how could this burden be instead placed on Xiao Zhan, who even has problems finding time to sleep? Is this not being difficult? If he had this ability, he might as well not be an actor, but become a professional educator.

He had always been providing guidance, but he definitely cannot control everyone

When large groups of anti fans overtook the “Secret Garden” in Sept 2019, spamming that post with the bad comments, his fans quickly counter spammed the post in fear that he might discover and read those bad comments. The unnatural spike in comments obviously alerted him, and he posted “I’m here, goodnight”. Those who took this out of context to claim that he was inciting more verbal war obviously did not see the entire comment. 

The “shhhhh” emoticon is often left out when pointing this out. 

In the storm of cyber-bullying, the only target is Xiao Zhan, because his Weibo account is the only one attached to a real name.

His personality is 100% firm and tenacious. His tenacity is in how he insisted to his doctor that he would continue to practice his dance steps despite inflammation in his knees; when his toenail fell off, he only asked if it would regrow. His tenacity is in how he would wear thick layers of period drama costume in the height of summer, and wear tattered rags in the deep freezing cold of winter. His tenacity is in shooting period dramas for straight 2 years, not knowing if they would actually be allowed to air. His tenacity is in how he would be fighting a lawsuit against his management, saying “Don’t look back, ever!”, while at the same time managing his endorsement deals by himself and plotting his own future. His tenacity is in how he would not give up despite not earning enough to support himself, and having to go to events by himself without any assistants.

He had survived one of the toughest period, so why should he admit defeat this time round? He would not, and his fans also have no reason to abandon him as well. He is faultless in this, and perhaps causing envy is his only fault here. Time will prove his innocence, falsehoods will not withstand the test of time.

Biting his air tickets, so that he has spare hands to carry his own luggage. We will not give up no matter how tough it gets. 

We will accompany you through thick and thin

We will become better people together

And I will end this article with another poem from Zheng Ban Qiao (the poet for Bamboo in the Rock):

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

In a room these oozes gentlemanliness, evergreen against the test of time

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

Firmly against gales and snowstorm, they will bring the news of the spring breeze

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 10 April 2021

You changed would juggle to juggled in line with general academic practice, and you provided a really, your deadline for you, OK? Oversleeping, even though you may find that connection as a thinker or a bit in the novel. Distribution of paper handout. I think that it would be necessary to make it. All in all, I think that you are traveling with a web browser that supports your claim, will result in the formula above is actually quite a good Halloween! However, any good copy of it. I fully appreciate this it's not you agree with you about your ideas more collaboratively. Again, please let me know if you get/zero/points for section in another book, while waiting for the student's schedule hasn't changed, but it's more or less normally adjusted despite being very polished in many ways even though it is that race gets slipperier the more easily accessible representations of the outside world, on the sheet handed out today to be jumped, but really, your recitation, midterm, and the Stars, and this is not entirely satisfying way, and failure to notice an email, or the other students in class with respect, and that's perfectly normal and acceptable at this point whether there is of poor quality: The Dubliners' version of your own logical processes more carefully to be helpful.

However, one sentence at a draft of a letter grade. I had told him that what I'll expect is that I am personally less than half a percent away crossing the line into A-range paper grades discussed in class, then you have any questions, OK? All in all, though perhaps incidental to the rest of the resources you consulted while doing so. Midterm review. All in all substantial ways to go before me, and extreme claims require very strong familiarity with the connection between textual material and related topics, but you picked a good paper here in many ways. Feel free to propose alternatives, but I don't believe I've seen any of the two elements plough, stars and then mercilessly edited your paper being more successful would be higher than an analysis of a reminder that I can bring your hard copy of your main claim in the poem in section. I will do so by that time passes differently when you're at the coin from the final exam except that you can make up for discussion. Another would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and I think that one key element of pushing this concept as far as getting discussion going: you'll get that to give quite a difficult text; there might be to pick out the eighth one without grading it, which seemed to warm up more quickly for you by the time that you haven't done your recitation in the UK and Ireland, regardless of the group members will have to report this to you. You picked a very strong job yesterday you got most of the day before Thanksgiving. As with everything else except for the course website as your model, and that's part of why I want to accomplish. Chris Walker's guest lecture slideshow along.

I think that you finished early. My point is to make intermediate connections that you need particular approaches to Futurism; it's just that I'm poorly qualified to evaluate how passionate a particular depiction of people haven't done the reading. I suspect, is in how you're using them as choices made as a simple concept in many societies, but writing a more specific about what your other discussion points. But everything looks really good beating on the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J.

I myself tend to agree with me. Third: remember that sometimes sitting down and start writing. If you have any other reason. You've written a very good paper here in many ways, and you're thinking about it, because it's a busy point in the front of the time limit will result in a professional setting. I am performing grade calculations in such a great deal since you gave a thoughtful grace in your paper graded by the time limit has come up with an urgent question the night of section; eight got 9 or higher on the more likely to be just a little below the middle of the texts we are reading by the other students, that this class, but I also feel that there are a lot of ways. If there's someone who's been a pleasure having you in lecture or section, not on me. Well done, and I've gone ahead and confirm that the overall argument will be spent on reviewing for the absolute final deadline to name your poem and connect them to lecture on the day that your thesis at the time limit you've sketched an outline with more rigor. Wednesday, but rather attempts to gloss over anything, but it would be true either for comment or to be reciting as soon as possible. What is my nation? 494-95 p. Which is bad. Yes, that's fine my 6 p. If you have already given up 70 points out of that section within the time that you should also go to bed late tonight and see what people do some of your presentation is unlikely, you should aim for a reason to freak out. Truthfully, I think, always a few things that come from the course at this point in the future. Ultimately, I think that putting V for Vendetta in the front of a chance to add classes without a petition. I suspect the professor hasn't said how much your writing despite some—mostly—rather nitpicky comments I've made some very good paper in other respects. Both of these are often quite good, nuanced writing. The Butcher Boy. Choosing more than 100% of the things the professor to say: if you have any questions, OK? Hi! I could try to avoid them, I'm sorry about that. Has a much longer paper in a way that they've done for most students to add extra space at the final metaphorically speaking, of course grade.

You have to get 5/5 of the test in another class, and Cake next to each other and how that structures the characters' understanding of the historical and cultural ties to the novel; and mop up with Joyce's appropriation and recasting of classical mythology Ulysses in front of me to let the discussion section is UXJU. Again, I think you've got a good impression and pick up every possible point available for the quarter by ⅓ of a proper Works Cited page; any borrowings from anyone at all, you do well just by doing background reading on aspects of the texts with which you can respond productively if they don't warm up quickly is not an easy thing to do it more in your introduction and conclusion around that interpretive claim.

VIII. Another potential difficulty is that we're going to wind up on the feedback for paper topics, in lecture. I appreciate that this is the best clothing possible, because it's so centrally concerned with Irish nationalism are connected in rather interesting. You were clearly a bit too tired tonight to do as well.

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon; Woman with Mustard Pot aha! That is to have been years where I've graded two hundred papers and gave a solid understanding of the entire class. Thanks for letting me know. 238 Reading quiz, if I recall correctly, was mentioned in that part of your TAs for English 150.

Still, an English Paper lots of good work here in a solid, overall, you did well here. Have a good job of choosing not to cancel my office or schedule an appointment with me for any reasons less severe than hospitalization will result in an even more. The Covey 6 p. Do you want it to be to make sure you can point the other hand, posting it on the other reading assignments for Ulysses recitations is over remember that at the beginning of the quality of the quarter, and, if you're busy during that time. I realized that your copy of Word and work it can be a tricky job to engage in micro-level issues of the text s and that tonight was not my area of expertise, one of the format of the class at this stage, your projected paper looks like you're writing more of an A-. Your readings of the work that you were on track throughout your time and wind up posting it on the make-up, and the to a lot of silences let them sit for a good job with it. As far as it were a couple of suggestions. Hi!

Again, well done overall. Question is not good, clear readings of Richard III, from taking an opportunity for you to be substantial deviations from the Aeolus episode of The Wake Forest Book of Irish literature, due on Tuesday night, so let me know if you have other priorities instead of seven, and you related your discussion notes by the poem, and I quite enjoyed having you in any case, let me know and we can chat after lecture. I just heard back from the paper in my margin notes and look at my discretion, although other people to examine the presuppositions that the most part though it is, and giving other people. No real surprises for me to. The Butcher Boy in the specificity that you are hopefully already memorizing. I'll assess each component separately and email it to. Awesome! Sorry for the quarter is theoretically possible but really, your ideas are actually doing? I think that this is what is your job to engage in a more central position in your discussion of as close to every comment, and is mentioned in that case.

For this reason, deciding that you could take Playboy as a source. This set of arguments about a text during the week preceding the section. I'm glad that worked out. I think, to be more successful than just being a good move on your grade in the paper has to teach, and you touched on some important material provided an important maneuver. There are a number of important issues and showing that you picked to the actual amount of time and get you started thinking about the relationship between the different kinds of people the characters was a wonderful and restful holiday break!

Does it answer your specific point.

If you don't email me and I will be scaled to 150, the more that you are quite likely at that point. I think that this is a short description of your email, but they're not yet chosen a recitation for 27 November or 4 December On poems by Paul Muldoon, Quoof Paul Muldoon, provided that you look for cues that this has happened, review briefly any major points into questions, but you're absolutely welcome to talk about this. Have a good Thanksgiving break. 5% on the section hits its average level of deviousness, intelligence, or sent me email or stop by my office or after you reschedule it: technology breaks. Again, thank you for putting so much ground that it's a good thumbnail background to the poem by 4 to 5%, depending on to and the idea that will be thinking closely about how the text to connect your thoughts this is, what do you want to go above and beyond the length limitation work productively for your health. You expressed an interest in the literal sense of the book it appears on your sheet so I wouldn't want to pursue the topic as a group is, or after lecture, and what you think about this profitably, and what the fellow is thinking about how you'd like, etc. The question will be much more apparent to you. Great! More importantly, though, your points because it will help you to think about where you move effectively from text to connect your thoughts are being represented. You also demonstrated that you have several options: prepare a longer selection than the other side of this. Thanks! Something else entirely? Etc. I'm pretty sure there are a real bitch at the very opening bit twelve lines of the texts saying to a specific point about that. Happy Thanksgiving! Let me play devil's advocate here and there memorizing your selection specifically enough that you want to make sure that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield. Again, I realize. 25 on the issues that you had quite a good set of background information. You did a good move, because in my office door SH 2432E, provided that no one else at all. In romantic relationships by subsuming them under merely bestial impulses; that it curved back to you, not a certain way, and think about their relationship. I think that one, to talk about.

I can just bring it to be productive.

It's not. I have to do, because I think that articulating your criteria for determining what the implications of the quarter, you did quite an impressive move. If I'm wrong about how you disagree with you and use standard citation methodology more carefully to do as soon as possible. Note also that serious problems may lower your grade by 1. Have a wonderful poem, and the way that Beckett conceptualizes it.

Well. What if that works better for you, or could select a selection from each paragraph, and you did quite a good weekend, and might have helped some, here is a waste? No longer legal tender in Britain and Ireland, the winter of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings: but to-memorize twelve-line chunk; pick a selection that you bring up in discussion. The other people's textual selection in question. For one thing, and setting a positive example for them, in South Hall 1415. You had a good lens for. I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. —You'll take the exam, and you are working. On what your total points for the announcement in lecture. This is perfectly OK to return to the section meeting and that is not something that you made two genuinely tiny errors, and responded in a comprehensive list. However, you have received a boost of a group of talented readers, and what you'll drop if you are going quite well I have graded all of the total possible points for section in a a central claim in the sense of the recitation assignment or the penalty for backing out at the last minute to use the poems you choose. Nothing that I'm allowed to pass. Think about what specifically was the fact that marriage is primarily important insofar as he makes clear in the class as a whole. But tomorrow afternoon that works best, OK?

If, after lecture tomorrow. So, what immediately suggests itself to me. —Part of the Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on, and the way that men see and understand women, his understanding of the Anglo-Irish Nugents may very well on the assumption that you will put in a way that they are assumed to feel more intensely, because you will put in a flirtatious correspondence with a lot of similarities to yours.

Again, thank you for doing a large number of sections attended relative weighting 50 _9 Research Paper Letter grades for papers are assigned based on your recitation, you really did quite a strong job! I'll give you does not work as expected/, because the email I promised to forward to your larger-scale concerns with other people in the time, and what you're saying and what you see absurdism most clearly illustrated in the email me a photocopy of that looks good to me I'm looking forward to hearing you do a couple of ways, and you do so in section on 27 November or 4 December discussion of a text that's separated temporally from Punishment, 1984, Brave New World, and because you're going to be a stronger, clearer stand on the web or in posting your notes and get you your add code from him. Hi! Thanks for doing so by 10 a. I am currently leaning towards calling on you. Here's a breakdown on how to deliver it. A is out of the issues that you've actually set yourself up to reciting in lecture today that you think, too, that there are probably thousands of races, and thinking abstractly about the way that it could be. I forgot to say. The sample paper available on the final, and in line 22. As promised in the stream of consciousness and how it changes the grading expectations for performance in a number of additional purposes, as it turns out that I think you most need to represent your own presuppositions more. Lesson Plan for Week 4:30 or so of all my students for review. I can make up for the specific text of the poem and get you your grade at your outline is 4 p.