#i love it when he's shiny maybe i am part magpie

[thefrogdalorian]

Din Djarin + Chapter 12: The Siege

#that head tilt.... i yearn #gorgeous tin can #i love it when he's shiny maybe i am part magpie #my gifs #din edits #din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #mando edit #the mandalorian edit #mandalorian gifs #star wars #star wars gifs

[liketwoswansinbalance]

King Midas’ Speculated Involvement in Fall

These are all the possibilities I can think of. If anyone has other ideas, feel free to contribute! Skip to the bold text if you're not interested in the less Midas-related parts.

A young King Midas was promised to feature in Fall, and the Schools turn gold and glow with a magical aura in the Fall trailer, so I assume that must be his influence. I doubt whether the Schools turning to gold should be taken literally though, considering the dark sea on the cover of Rise was just part of another setting, and the Schools didn’t actually rise out of the sea. However, in the main series, every time the Schools were altered (it happened thrice) the covers were accurate to their current state.

Soman once said (on Twitter, probably?) that there were loads of Easter eggs in the Fall cover reveal video. So far, there’s the popular imposter theory/eye color swap, and the shattered sky. I don’t think I see much else that could be important.

The brothers also have winged shoulder-ornaments and some kind of sternum-jewelry, which I could see as being vaguely Storian-shaped, like in a “you can’t shake off the yoke of fate” way.

I am considering the possibility of wizard wishes and someone’s Celestium being involved because no natural sky looks mirrored like that. The shattered sky or glass could represent Rhian and Rafal’s relationship falling apart, if it is symbolic. And, if Celestiums represent a wizards psyche, that wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, especially if one of the brothers goes “psycho.” I also wonder if Soman’s been taunting us, and that one of the brothers could die from being struck by lightning.

⸻

Anyway, here my predictions for Midas’ role:

1. The parent of a student or alumnus. Seems unlikely given that he’s young.

2. Rhian’s love interest. Possible. Also, maybe, Rhian really does love shiny, attractive things, hence the glass castle he had built. I headcanon that he has magpie/corvid tendencies, and could be lured in by gold. This could function like a “Faithful John” arc with Rafal as John to keep his brother grounded. Midas would be cast in the role of the golden princess.

When we think about it: Who’s easily overwhelmed by splendor and drawn in easily, and who’s not? Who’s the gullible, vulnerable one? Will Rhian trade Rafal for Midas? I doubt it because I think Rhian’s learned his lesson twice, but who knows.

3. The brothers appeal to Midas for support, to save their schools. I’d love to see Rafal forced to grovel before a king, but it's more likely he’d threaten Midas with death? This sounds like that dialogue snippet Soman released, about kingdom’s leaders being difficult to deal with.

4. Midas captures both brothers. There’s a chance he’s a villain.

5. Midas kills one of the brothers or turns one to gold. I bet it could be Rafal. He’ll probably suffer physically a lot in this book. Plus, incapacitating the most powerful (and capable) character makes for a dire situation and high stakes. (Sure, Rhian is of equal power but he’s less willing to harm people.) If this happens, it would alienate Rhian, and I bet it would be hilarious to watch him panic at first. He’d be frantic, desperate to do anything. And, desperation could be a good corruption motive for Rhian to become more Evil.

6. Midas wants to capture Rhian specifically. Maybe, to admire him, keep him as a pet, because he’s golden and alive. This would be presuming Midas’ whole court and all his loved-ones have already been turned to gold. (I think he had a daughter in the original story). There might even be foreshadowing in Rise because Rhian was often described as golden. It could be meant to lead up to this. And, it could be fun to read as well as creepy.

7. Midas could produce gold to bargain with Hook or with the possibly Evil Pan. In exchange for their students, to get them back? To make a trade with another Woods leader? To settle other outlying expenses?

8. Alternatively, Midas approaches the brothers. He’d think they can undo his curse, his golden touch. Since they are known as the powerful, immortal twin sorcerers far and wide through all the Woods, we could assume. So, Midas has traveled all this way, and Rafal recognizes he has a bargaining chip here. Midas is desperate. Rafal probably gets Midas to exchange lifting the curse for support or something useful (the monkey's paw? Thereby sealing his and Rhian’s fate as tragic without realizing it.) Then, he and Rhian can get back at Hook, and recover their lost students. But, it may be a Pyrrhic Victory.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #rhian #rhian mistral #king midas #james hook #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #my post #my predictions #my theories #my headcanons #my analysis #foreshadowing

[ignify-caligo]

hello!! i’m loving all ur hcs for marceau SO much, maybe ☼ or ♒️ for him if u want to? <3

I’m so sorry for the wait, wasn’t quite sure about what direction I should go about these ;3; But nonetheless, I’m literally living for Marceau right now and his adoptive papa Roche! There’s some mention of darker stuff in this, but it’s not explicitly described or anything, but just a heads up! For those reasons I took the liberty to switch on the hc, hoe you don’t mind that! :D

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

☼ - appearance headcanon

tw: most likely suggestive content (minor description of abuse aftermath, non healthy relationships between “employer” & “employee” etc. - not explicitly described)

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

He has quite a complicated relationship with food in general. Being a “late bloomer” with consuming any kind of blood in the “vampire way”, while being extremely picky with human food. Marceau’s food choices while being under de Kaspar's care was either eating the dinners scraps put together in a stew-like fashion or vegetarian food. The family thought that cutting out any animal products in his diet would stop his development as a vampire and keep him “normal”.

When it comes to his time in Temeria… You can describe it as “like adoptive father/mentor like son”. He has never touched any cooking associated with things in his life, having the de Kaspars servants do all the necessary things besides eating the food themselves. So, he’s being thrown into this whole “you’re on your own” lifestyle, where he must help in the cooking department whenever the stripes are out of the castle’s walls. His assigned food making with Shorty, who’s basically the whole group's main cook out there, and Marceau is picked to assist with preparing the ingredients for the stew. Shorty ends up going to the wagon with the food rations because he forgot something, and that’s when Marceau fails miserably. He ends up creating a grease fire in the middle of the camp, in woods, 10 minutes from a nearby water source. It hasn’t been even 5 seconds before he managed to show his low cooking skills. Shorty’s favourite limited Mahakam edition pan, which he called Panalope and it just stopped existing because it melted. Roche was having a glitch right in the chaos because he either could comfort the only person able to cook something edible for miles or take care of the apprentice/adopted child of his that basically was on the verge of tears. The problem got solved when Ves took care of Marceau while Roche was being there for Shorty who was “saying his last goodbyes” with his favourite cooking pan. After they return to Vizima, Marceau uses his saved coins to buy a new pan as an apology gift for Shorty. He ends up giving the present, saying he apologize and vacating the premises out of embarrassment.

While the squad is staying at the castle, Marceau gets too frequently invited to Foltet’s quarters for a late supper. They are alone, all night, without any witnesses. Whatever happens behind those doors makes Marceau look and act as if he has seen the Wild Hunt right before his eyes, while Foltest is being too smug for it to be a simple “colleague lunch”. The squad is concerned whenever they see Marceau leaving right after breakfast and then witnessing him forcing himself into throwing up. They don’t directly question him about it, but it’s still something that doesn’t sit with them, especially those who are extremely close to him. Many just think it is something that isn’t necessarily happy during the mornings, but Ves is not believing in the theory that it’s just a “Marceau/Young kids thing”. She’s relentless about what is happening to her new little brother while Roche has his suspicions… alas who can question the king’s habits? Especially when it doesn’t concern the whole group.

Something that originated from chatting with (toss a coin) One thing he's absolute, not good with handling is the sugars. Whatever it be candy, cake or even a good number of fruits, he absolute loses it. He ends up with so-called “Marceau Zoomies”, which can be shortly described as a cat running around the house at 3 am. But in his case, it’s a giant Katakan running around without any way of stopping, because of the energy. Roche is completely tired whenever he needs to keep an eye on the energized humanoid bat, and he has had enough of weird shit happening to him thank you. So, he bans sugar from Marceau’s diet altogether and it’s heart-breaking. Because there were people dependent on that energy whenever there was something to do, for example, Dettlaff.

☼ - appearance headcanon

People think that he's constantly sick with the cold, because of his skin tone. The truth is though, that his leucistic – the only pigmentation he has of any kind shows through his eyes being golden. Many react to that with some Witcherphobia because they usually heard of monster killers with gold eyes. Marceau at first is confused, because what is a Witcher? And why are the people of the north so against them? At the start he was fearing that the townsfolk were talking about his “true identity” but when he joined the stripes, they quickly sat the whole situation straight. Even though it’s not that often now, but sometimes people tend to still give him the suspicious glance or even crude comments. Those stepping over the line, happen to be more personally known with one of the blue stripes, behind the tavern, in private where no one can intervene. Marceau tends to end up easily bruised, sunburned, or acquire any typical skin injuries because of his skin tone and how that effect everything. Sadly, he can’t get a tan to save his life, whatever if he stands outside for the whole day, his skin either ends up burned up or he’s still white as snow. Which in turn makes it easier to see his bruising shaped like someone’s hands whenever he’s gone for the night.

You can easily describe him as being a lanky tree, quite like Regis’ build as well. His eating habits have a big impact on his overall weight and body, I imagine a vampire in his class (Katakan) being more dependent on regular “human feedings” to keep a good form. Compared to Dettlaff who’s more flexible when it comes to blood-drinking, both Regis and Marceau are on the more malnourished side. Which probably is connected to the amount of “vampiric like diet” both are willing to do. Eating “human food” doesn’t necessarily help with weight loss but still, it quells the hunger they feel.

He doesn’t have any noticeable scarring on his face or any area near it. But if he takes off his fingerless gloves… when you’re going to see the welts on his palms. Whenever he was deemed to act “too vampiric” it would end in punishment, whatever it be being locked in his room or like I mentioned, being hit with any object good enough to leave a mark. Of course, our young Marceau didn’t have any ideas about why he’s being treated like this until he filled 16 years. Before that, his adoptive parents tried to do anything to prevent him from becoming a beast in human flesh. Each time he moves his jaw too quickly or is chewing something, you can hear a distinctive pop sound. He acquired this injury when he was around 10 years old when he got angry at one of his so-called siblings and out of frustration bit them. His jaw locked up around the child’s arm and the blood flooded his mouth, which in turn made him bite harder with his vampire teeth pocking further than a simple human could. The commotion created because of this situation alerted the father, who firstly forced his jaws to unluck. When he dislocated his jaw by punching his face. Supposedly it was because the father was scared that Marceau would do it again, but after that, it turned into “I was making sure you would learn that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable”.

In the clothing department, Marceau prefers his everyday stripes uniform to any more casual clothing. It acts as a security blanket, where simply farmers won’t directly look at him because he's one of the “Temerian human scoia’tael” as many refer to them behind their back. As it is expected, he upholds himself to the official blue-white-silver main palette, with all leather parts of his armour being brown. Something that disunites him from the other stripes, is the number of pockets and small satchels he carries on himself. He loves collecting stuff, whatever it be shiny rocks from a riverbank, or a bunch of hazelnuts freshly picked from a tree. Keeping those satchels with him is practical because he can store some important for the mission objects or small trinkets he finds during boring patrols. He’s a literal magpie, with so strong senses that he can find anything, which in turn makes Roche’s life more complicated with “Marceau, you can’t honestly keep all these things!”.

For his first birthday together with the stripes, he ends up getting a bandana from Roche. It’s a beautiful and soft thing, with the iconic blue stripes on a black background, with small embroidery fleur de lis in silver right on the edges. He tried to make it into a chaperone because, if Roche looks good in it, so surely will I! His dream ended with Ves kindly telling him: “You look like an absolute imbecile in a chaperone”. So instead, he simply wears it around his neck to save himself the embarrassment.

Lastly, here’s a little about his other form! Besides being a walking snowball with his leucism, he also is quite fluffier compared to the other Katakans. He has a bigger per cent of his body covered in cloud-soft fur. He's quite like the Honduran White Bat, the only difference is the ears and other parts colouration. In the real bats, their ears are yellowish in colour, while Marceau keeps his pinkish hues in those areas. In comparison to his 177 cm in human form, Katakan! Marceau stands at 220cm and is still in the growth spurt for his kind. Whatever form he is, he always is taller than Roche who’s at the majestic height of 175cm while Iorveth is around 185cm.

This is “human form” of Marceau:

Headcanon Meme Here

#marceau oc #vernon roche #ves witcher #king foltest #foltest #blue stripes #the witcher #the witcher series #the witcher games #the witcher headcanon #the witcher oc #caligo's post #caligo's headcanons #caligo's oc #caligo answers q. #Marceau is my emotional fuel right now 😭😩 #and how doni thank him? trauma✨ #thank you so much for asking about him because I love these fluffy vampy!!

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, for Dummies p11

a/n: a short but sweet chapter and RETURN OF THE DOCTOR! but ya know, my original part 11? mind frozen, enjoy whatever the ever loving FUCK this is...

You encountered the Doctor again. You obviously didn’t freeze up again. 

She sought you two out.

It was only Yaz and Ryan this time with her. Maybe Graham died. You made subtle small talk. 

The Master was unaffected seemingly. 

She came for you.

The Doctor sprung a little trap for the two of you. It wasn’t that hard, something shiny, something powerful, a nice location for you to consummate your victory on. 

After you two were firmly strapped into the auto locking handcuffs that sprung as if by magic from the floor, you both giggled and rolled your eyes at the audacity of the situation.

The Doctor balked at your, “Kinky!” Remark. 

The Master enjoyed it, and out of all the situation’s tawdry effects:That was all that truly mattered. His laughter and adoration. Despite the truly confusing situation you two found yourself in right now, you did have to admit, it was hilarious. 

The Master in chains.

He also found it ironic as well.

You were a little annoyed on how well the Doctor preyed upon both of your magpie brains. You took the bait hook, line and sinker. 

And now you were paying!

And then the lecture began…

“You know there’s a reputation you’re getting! Some people remember you before when you ran with me!” She hunkered down.

“That’s there fucking problem there, bud.” You responded. 

“I saw you once!” She sputtered, yet feigned control, “You two were broken up! You’d returned home!” 

“We made up.”

“I can see that!” She pointed.

“So is this an intervention? Am I doing heroin? Does this look like I’m out back in a dumpster shooting needles into my ankle?” You’d gesticulate, but your hands were tied down.

“I know the Master! It’s the same thing!”

You two were in a very high pitched shouting match and the Master was now trying small talk with Yaz and Ryan. That amused you the most.

You tossed your head back. “He’s wearing my silkie panties. How harmful to my being can he be?” 

“That was private!” He squeaked. 

“Hey, you told your past selves about my thing, I tell someone about your thing. Cause I don’t get past selves.” You leaned over and scrunched your face at him. You were egging him on so he’d lean you over later and paddle your bottom. 

Apparently you were a glutton for punishment today.

He rolled his eyes and sharply inhaled, “Wow, remind me to not get on your bad side.” He laughed and hunched over. 

The chains were really getting in the way of your romance. 

“Just guess we gotta sit here for a mo’...” The Master swayed side to side on his knees and stuck his tongue out at the Doctor. 

She ignored him and turned on to you, “I see you have a warp star around your neck? Is that his insurance about you? Crush it if you ever break his spell on you…”

You clicked your tongue.

“What fucking spell?” You balked. 

“The obvious spell? Who’d run away with a murderer!”

“Uh, Yaz? Ryan?” You pointed to conversation towards them. “Who’d run away with a murderer?” You whipped your head around redirected towards the Doctor once more, “What coincidence. I knew you were a hypocrite! But denial isn't just a river in Egypt, Theta…” You drew out her birth name and swished your head so your hair would take over the dramatic hand motions for you. You bore your teeth at her. “A bit rich considering you have most likely killed more people than we ever have…”

She had no outright response, the minute you called her by her name she froze and her usual animations ceased. 

Yaz moved over, “How do you just kill people?”

You smiled sadistically, ‘Gets a little easier once you’ve done it once.” You hoped you were both demure and hard in your responses. Yaz shook and regained her excellent copper countenance. 

The Doctor shook visibly then thawed out. “He’s corrupted you! It’s worse than I thought. I was thinking he just hypnotized you into his lies!” Her mouth was agape, she pushed her fist slightly into her front teeth. 

“You were such a good human when I met you.” She tried to reason.

“You were kind and loving, crazy and prone to selfishness sometimes, but...just as good as anyone!” 

“Yeah. I’m going to let you think that.” You conceded to her with a bit of defeat. 

“Right! ‘Cuz elsewise what else?” She retorted.

“I’m still all that you say, just out here, living my best life.” You went to motion again, but the chains cramped you up. You chided yourself for not working around them. 

She was seeking out the best tactic to take, then the Master chimed up, “Whip us or let us go, I’m bored.” He attempted scratching either his ear or his shoulder with one or the other.

 You tried communicating for him to play the bitch and act like you were the one calling the shots. Not very well, mentally you wanted to scream at him, but knowing that the Doctor was also a Time Lord that had that capabilities, it was a weird game. It was a hard game for your human mind to play. 

Yaz and Ryan seemed to still be processing the information on what the Doctor’s real name was. They suddenly seemed less than keen on your rescue and more than uncomfortable. They were just about to probably chuck all the three of you out into the great frozen vastness of space.

“Don’t try to save me.” You ended up hurling at her verbally. 

“Why?” She hurled straight back.

“Because I’m not some project or stupid planet or anything like that! I’m human! I have rights!” 

“And one right is to throw your life away on an evil man?” 

“Yeah.” You huffed. Then you changed tactics. “Look, we’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of ours.” You swallowed. “We can avoid each other. We see each other and duck.” You eased up on the breathing easy and made your breath silky, “The Universe is a big place, Doctor.” You tried to make her chosen name as meaningful and gentle and loving as possible. 

You blinked slowly, trying to communicate a sort of genuineness. 

She flopped her head down over and her hair splayed out, she gave in, unhooking your shackles and trying to hug her into submission. 

You felt a gentle whisper, “Please,if you change your mind, I’m here, but you’ll have to pay…” 

You pulled her off and nodded both “yes” and “no”.

She punched the Master in the nose and made a biting motion towards him before unhooking him, she slouched to sit on the floor.

“Go.” She then made a distressed noise at the back of her throat, “Before I change my mind and kill him…”

He let a little asshole wave, half of thanks, but half to mock her. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his arm and shoved him out the door.

She shuddered viscerally.

You ran off into the sunlight of the planet and back into the TARDIS, shooting off and bracing yourself for some sort of fall out...

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x you #sacha dhawan #doctor who self insert fiction #thirteeth doctor #fic

[stealinghero]

hm.... maybe... an expansion on jigen helping an s/o with self doubt? I like the idea of him trying to be comforting. Could get nsfw if you want to write it. I love how you write jigen..

It’s way too far from any nsfw and could be called fluff? I don’t know what it really is, but it felt extremely Jigen-like. o.O

“Why do you love me?”

He smiled.

“Because you are you.”

You watched him unfolding his arms to hug you and huffed against his broad chest.

“That’s stupid. Why exactly do you love me?”

“Are we playing this game again?” he let out a sigh and shoved you away from him, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“I love you for many things and I don’t care what that stupid brain of yours tells you again, you are good the way you are.”

Why did he lie to you?!

“I am…,” you began.

“Shut it,” he stopped you harshly.

“We have played this game too often for me to have patience for it now. Believe me or not. I don’t have a magic wand to make your doubts disappear.”

“It’s not…”

He had turned around, stepping into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

You had disappointed him again, right? Of course. What to expect from someone like you?

Whenever you remembered a time in your life it was plastered with misfortune and simple stupidity. You were too stupid to do the simplest tasks. You weren’t good enough in school, too stupid to find a decent job and now you were a criminal. What a great life you had.

Sure, in this group you had friends. And you had even managed to get yourself a boyfriend that liked you. At least he told you that. Whenever you had asked him what he loved about you, he told you simple things. Your eyes, your smile, your way to fight. He had never told you that you were intelligent or thin enough or had a pretty face or something like that. Did he just put up with you in order not to be alone?

You turned away from the kitchen door and left for your room.

“Stop right there.”

You followed his order and already heard his sermon in your ears. How nice your eyes were, etc. You had heard all his lies.

“What do you like about me?”

You wanted to turn around to face him, but a hand on your back hindered you to do so.

“Answer me,” he asked of you.

Your head was blank. What did you like about him? Everything. His low voice in the morning, his beard that tickled you whenever he kissed you, his countless scars that were signs of his courage and skill, the way he always took care not to forget his hat, the smell of his favourite shampoo…

“I’m waiting.”

“I don’t know! Everything! You are great and intelligent and wonderful and cool and handsome and…”

His laughter made you stop in your rambling.

“It’s hard, hm?”

You nodded. Of course it was hard to list all his good points as there were simply too many!

“It’s the same for me. There are countless things I love about you. Your tired voice in the morning, your smile when you finally got the pancake to flip in the pan, your little dance whenever you see something shiny.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. I am… listen, I am not good with words. I can show you how much I appreciate you, but telling you? I would need years to count all the small things that made me fall in love with you.”

“Then show me!”

“Sure, get undressed and I’ll show you my love.” He laughed about this idea and turned you around by your shoulder.

“I have a different idea. Give me a few days and whenever I can I will write a thing I really like about you on a piece of paper and throw it in here.” He held up an empty bottle of red wine.

“Do you remember that bottle? We emptied it on our first date.”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes. He still remembered that?

“I was so nervous that someone like you would go out with someone like me. I forgot you liked white wine and bought this one instead. And still you smi…”

He stared at you and then began to frantically scribble on a small piece of paper. After he was done, he showed it to you.

Your forgiving smile when I did something stupid.

Then he folded it in half and threw it into the bottle.

“Whenever you doubt yourself. Read those. It’s just what I can say. So I made this.”

He guided you into the kitchen and showed you two other bottles. One was labelled “Lupin”, the other “Goemon”.

“I will make them write good things about you and put them into their bottles. So you can see I am not lying to you when I say your smile is pretty.”

“What about my face?” You had to know. Pretty smile, ugly face, right?

“It’s hard to describe.”

“Try it.”

“When you laugh, you make this…. How to say it? You sound like an asthmatic hyena!” he laughed.

“And I love it. You laugh like this when you are truly yourself without a care in this world.”

Stubborn you wiped away a tear running down your cheek. Jigen nodded at that action.

“And this. You are pouting and don’t want to admit it and the tips of your ears are red while you make this thing!”

You touched your ears and they were hot. And the thing? Damn! You really bit your lip whenever you were pouting and… not really admitting it….

You hugged the man in front of you. Why did he knew such things?

He grinned and patted your back.

“I know, I’m the best.”

You had to laugh and wondered about how the others would react to this idea.

 Three days had passed since Jigen had presented his idea and you were curious. Each of them had taken their bottle and you hadn’t seen them since.

Carefully, you knocked at Lupin’s door.

“Come in!”

You did as you were told and entered his as usual chaotic room. Everywhere were plans for future heists, ideas for small and bigger gadgets, models of even bigger projects of his. And the prince himself sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by chunks of paper and his face showed traces of ink.

“Ahh, just the right time. Somehow the bottle doesn’t fit. I found a better thing!”

He crawled from the bed and showed you a shiny chest. It wasn’t huge but it sparkled.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!”

He grinned and gave you the chest, filled with little notes what he liked about you.

“If you doubt yourself again, I will punch you!” he threatened you with a big grin before he hugged you.

“Because I don’t have any idiots as friends, okay?” With these words he shoved you out of the room and went back to his usual work, containing cursing and some very worrying plans.

“There you are. Here.”

Four bottles were added to your chest when Goemon rushed past you, Zantetsuken in his hands, leaving the house.

“Uhm, thanks?” you told the now again closed door, making someone laugh.

“And I feared I would be the only one with this problem.”

Jigen stepped out of the kitchen, grinning, to reveal a suitcase behind him.

“The bottle was too small,” he admitted sheepishly before he took the bottles Goemon gave you and the chest of Lupin to add them to the pile.

“When you’re angry you’re like a dragon. And every dragon needs a hoard. A hoard of comfort!”

He seemed extremely pleased with his bad word play. Sometimes you wondered what you would write for his bottle…

 You could distinguish them all by the handwriting. Goemon’s was neat and his papers smelled a bit of tea

I admire your strength of will. You are unmoving like a mountain if you found your resolve.

Lupin’s handwriting was his usual tiny mess of ink. They made you laugh the most.

You are a magpie and I like that the most about you!

And you were surprised because Jigen seemed to have tried to write properly.

The best part of you is you. Never change.

#lupin iii #jigen daisuke

[space-blue]

Fairy infestation

My father forbids me to play in the bottom of the garden. He says he doesn't want me to go missing, like Kida did. He says the wild part of the garden always had a few fairies, that it's what made the charm of the house, when they bought it. But when Kida went missing, he called it an infestation. Mom disappeared too, except she was taken by another man, not fairies. Kuro my cat laughs at me for listening to my father. He sits on a mossy rock near the old quince tree and calls me to him. He says Kida was stupid, that all dogs are and that the fairies would not get me if I were smart. I believe Kida was smart alright, maybe just too trustful.

You never see fairies, unless you sneak up on them. But you can tell they're here. They churn up the ground, collect shiny stuff; well, steal it, and leave out a lot of garbage.

Last night I went a bit late in the garden to feed Kuro. He eats outside because father doesn't like the smell of his canned food. He says it's alright for Kuro to be out during the night. When I asked why, he explained that magpies and fairies are arch-enemies, and because cats kill and chase magpies, fairies leave them alone.

I don't know why I was so surprised to stumble on a fairy that night, so near the house. They stole enough of our garden tools, I should have known they often snuck up this close. Maybe Kuro should be more worried about how smart I am.

It was a little man. I'm not very tall but he was still half my size. I think he was as surprised as I was because we just stayed there looking at each other, him with a worn out batman school bag over the shoulder, me with my can of Whiskers. It's true fairies wear a lot of jewellery. This one had more earrings and rings on him than I had ever seen on a person before, but it's his necklace that got him in troubles. I could have recognised it anywhere : blue rhinestones glued on black leather, a golden medal. With Kida's name on it, and our address.

He cried out when I jumped him. I beat him with the can of cat food and kicked him hard. He fought back dirty, scratching me and twisting in my hands, until I grabbed the collar. We were panting then, and halfway down the vegie patch. "Where did you get my dog's collar?" I yelled at him. "Just let go of me, you crazy human!" "Answer me you filthy fairy!" I raised the can of Whiskers high up menacingly, and it worked. The fairy started to squirm and whimper. "Just let me go. I can grant you a wish if you want. How about a pony? You let me go, you get a pony." "I don't believe you can do that! My father says you fairies are all full of shit!" "And is your father happy with his little girl sporting such a potty mouth?" he squeaked. "All I want," I said, "is to know where you took Kida!" "Your dog you say?" I nodded and looked at his little, wicked face crumpling in concentration. "She is a Pug. That's her collar you're wearing." His little yellow eyes widened at that, and he smiled up at me. Maybe fairies could be cute, if they didn't have so many teeth. "A pug! Why, yes, then I know where your dog is. This collar was traded to me you understand. I knew nothing about the dog then. But I know where it went and can introduce you to the fairy who last saw it." He looked at me dubiously. "Would that be a good wish to grant?"

I accepted of course. It felt like a smart decision at the time. And that's how I entered a fairy grove. The little fairy man took me far down in the wild part of our garden, behind the quince tree and under the thorn bushes. I suddenly felt very dizzy and stood up, finding myself surrounded by fairies; hundred of them, their clothes sewn with lots of bits and pieces, twinkling and clinking furiously. I thought they all looked like dragons would, if they insisted on carrying their hoard on them instead of hiding it.

I wish I could tell you more about the rest of the place and describe it. But it felt like a dream I couldn't really remember, as soon as I would look away from a house I would forget all but the feel of it. There were so many fairies rushing everywhere like late workers, pushing around me, that I remember thinking it was like being in the tube, that one time, father called it "rush hour" and cursed a lot. My guide never did. He seemed to find this mess normal. Maybe any hour is rush hour for a fairy. No one paid much attention to me. I got insulted a couple of times for bumping into someone. I saw several disputes as we walked, fairies shrieking at each other and angrily pointing clawed fingers. My guide called it bargaining. I noticed he stood out with his plain black clothes and figured he was dressed to go on a thieving expedition, what with the black batman bag and the sneaking around my house. I started to feel angry again. I wasn't seeing any dog anywhere and I was impatient now. The fairy man turned around just then and pointed to... something. A fairy house in a tree with a crowd around it. Like I said I can't describe it. "Ask for Ruscuff there. He'll let you know where your dog is." The fairy smiled again and looked very pleased with himself. Then he turned around and disappeared in the crowd, leaving me alone.

I gathered my courage, and approached the group of fairies that were all waiting by the tree. There I asked for Ruscuff, and I felt very excited. Yes, they all knew where Ruscuff was. Just there, just past this, just wait... I was going to get Kida back! I was getting so close at last. No one seemed to care that I was human and so much taller than them all. "What is this place for?" I asked one fairy who said Ruscuff would "come out" very soon. "Why it's the mess hall darling" the fairy said. He eyed my can of whiskers with envy and asked if I was here to trade it. He pinched my leg when three fairies came out with large steaming wooden boxes. They were filled with some kind of stew and all the fairies around me started rushing forward, shaking their bowls and calling out. "That's Ruscuff there, doll" he said. "The one with the nice pendant." The "nice pendant" was a CD, shiny side out, hung on a silvery chain. I thanked my helpful neighbour and pushed my way through towards Ruscuff. He looked up at me with beady, curious eyes when I cornered him. "Oh! Are you trading that can there big girl?" he asked. What was this cat food obsession about? "No, I'm here for Kida, I was told you have her." The fairy looked confused and only frowned. My hope turned into dread. "A Pug" I said, waving my hand to picture how big she was, and hope returned, when Ruscuff eyes shone with understanding. "Oh Pug, yes!" he exclaimed, but then he looked very sorry and patted my arm. "That was last month, love." He pointed at the box of stew being raided behind him. "Today isn't as good, it's German Shepherd. Pugs are hard to come by you know, we got lucky last month."

I stumbled away, shocked, and let the crowd of hungry fairies push me outward. I vaguely remember getting away from the mob, in a daze. I cried a lot. Because I was sad, because I was disgusted. When Kuro found me I was pouring out tears of anger and frustration. I had tried to find my way out but appeared to be completely lost. "How have you gotten yourself here?" Kuro asked, approaching me with a springy step. "Oh, Kuro! I found out what happened to Kida and.." I sobbed, sniffed, knelt down and petted his silky shoulders. "I'm glad you came looking for me" I said. "Well, my dinner wasn't there and is long overdue" he answered grumpily eyeing the can I was still holding. What a charmer. But he got me home, past the quince tree and straight to his bowl.

"What did you learn tonight?" Kuro purred between two mouthful, as I sat pensively on the steps of our porch. "Never trust a fucking fairy" was my grim answer.

~~May 2015 – Theme : Fairytales

#original writing #original story #competition #fantasy

[5lazarus]

Anders in Autumn, Ch. 13

based off of n.13 of @cozy-autumn-prompts​! read on AO3 here. Anders in Autumn, Ch. 13: Fenris and Anders prepare to return to Kirkwall, and for whatever might come next.

Merrill sends a letter with Varric’s messenger. Messere Pounce-the-Second is fine, the two apprentices made it out okay, Samsom drank all the lyrium he left in the clinic, and no one has died yet. Varric has paid the guards off, the bosses off, and reached a compromise with the strikers. Only two people have died, and only a couple have been maimed for life. The dockworkers have won their demands. Those injured will be paid their pensions. The messenger also brings two fine Free Marches Rangers, for them to ride into town. Varric’s got a foot in the horseflesh market now. They are free advertising to his munificence. The Dalish left the house without saying goodbye, and took half the kitchen implements and an apple sapling with them. Fenris says it wasn’t personal. Imladris has never been good at goodbyes, and Mahanon has always been a magpie. Anders is slightly offended, and irritated besides. It is hard to make dinner when Mahanon took all the best pans, and he thought they would have at least tried to recruit him. “No,” Fenris says. “You’re doing good work in Kirkwall. For now.” “Not enough,” Anders says.

“We’ll be home soon.” Fenris takes a bite from the one loaf of bread the Dalish left them. They’ll be able to subsist the day’s journey back to Kirkwall on apples, but still: they could have left some of the dried pork. Anders smiles at him uncertainly and reaches for his hand. He crept into his bed last night and they fell asleep together, that was it, and that was fine. Iit is fine, but he worries. Whatever is growing between them is still so fragile, and Anders worries that his luck will run out. Mages don’t get to fall in love and have a domestic routine. The whole situation is revolutionary, and he does not want Kirkwall to steal it from him. “Merrill says my cat is fine,” Anders says instead. “And she didn’t burn down the clinic, and no one’s run her out of town with pitchfork.” “Yet,” Fenris says. Anders snorts, and Fenris takes his hand in both of his. The tenderness sits between them. He’s happy. He does not want to leave, not yet, but he must. He always has to, he always has to move on. Fear wracks him and he draws back. This was all a moment of weakness. Fenris won’t want to take back up with him when they return home. The reality of their situation is too clear. He hates mages, or at least disdains mages, and hates mages who deal with demons. Justice isn’t a demon though Anders fears that he’ll make a demon out of him, but Merrill always says that it’s less about the Andrastian binary of good and evil and more about sacrifice. He isn’t like Merrill though. He believes in good. Anders looks at Fenris, ashamed. Does he know that? That he believes in good? Fenris looks askance. “Is something the matter?” He reaches for his hand again, and Anders closes his eyes. He likes the calluses of his hands “Are you comfortable?” Anders rushes. “Am I what?” “Comfortable,” Anders says, “with this. Continuing when we return to Kirkwall. With taking up with your local abomination. I thought you hated Justice. He isn’t going away. He’s a part of me. Magic is who I am. As much as the fight for freedom is. And I--I’m not like Merrill, I don’t condone blood magic, and I don’t go looking for spirits to pester. But this is what I am. I’m a mage. And if you’re not comfortable with this, it isn’t right for either of us to play at domesticity and pretend as if we’re not mutually opposed. Because we’re not. I don’t want to live in a world where the Imperium exists, and I’m going to change it.” Fenris takes that quietly. He brushes his thumb over Anders’ hand, a gesture so gentle it brings him to the brink of tears. He has lived his life on the edge of a precipice, from the Harrowing to his fugitive years, from the Wardens to Kirkwall, and now the wind is at his back and threatening to push him over. Anders almost says, say something. Please. Even if it’s you being an ass. I’ll take that over the silence. It’s unbearable, and he gets up and walks to the door. He wraps himself in Mahariel’s shawl. Hand on the door handle, Anders does not let himself look back. Outside the air is crisp and the constellations over the apple trees are bright. Anders walks to the orchard and lies down, arms crossed over his head, and watches the stars careen overhead. They were brighter at Weisshaupt. He really ought to have looked for his mother when Mahariel took him there. He sighs: but you can’t go home again. Everything is so fleeting, every bit of happiness. He wonders what it would be like to return home and hear his name called again. Perhaps his mother is dead: then his name is too, then. At least that is something the Chantry had not taken from him. He has kept it entirely to himself. Beyond the sky is the Brethren of the Air. That melancholy is Justice’s, Anders recognizes. The world is not as it should be. It can be righted. He can do it. He will do it. Not all mages are like the magisterium, and the magisterium will not last. Anders closes his eyes, brings his hands to his face, and sighs. He is not Danarius. He is not Merrill. He has not succumbed to temptation. He has kept Justice whole, even though there is no justice in the streets of Kirkwall--no. Merrill wrote that the dockworkers won. For once, something right, and he was part of that. He has healed the hurt and killed the killers. What does that make him? Right, for once, no matter what Fenris thinks. He opens his eyes and start. Fenris is staring down at him, eyes and tattoos glowing in the dark. “Maker’s breath, man!” Anders yelps. He scrambles upright, back against the tree. Fenris squats next to him. He moves as silently as a wraith, and glows blue like one too. Anders has always liked shiny things. Gloomily he thinks, maybe that’s why I like him. “Yes,” Fenris says. “What?” Anders has no idea what he is referring too. The night is cold, and he shivers and clutches the shawl closer around him. He likes the clothes Varric gave him but he misses his robes. “Yes,” Fenris says. “I am comfortable. With this. With a mage.” He pauses, and amends himself. “With a mage such as you.” Anders is silent. His brain has shorted out. He gnaws at his lip as Fenris slides next to him. He rests his head on his shoulder. “You know my life is for the mages’ freedom. For breaking the Circle. For liberation.” “As mine is to break the yoke of Tevinter slavery, yes.” Fenris kisses his head, and Anders blossoms at the touch. “As you said. These aren’t mutually opposed. I want you to know that I admire how you fight. For your people. For our friends. For people you barely know. Though I must admit that I am frightened of Justice and the power you wield. It is hard for me. But my sister is a mage. I remember...I need you to understand. This--I need time. I need this to be slow. I do not know what will happen to us in Kirkwall, but I am not used to...intimacy. With a mage or not. And I am not sure--I had another name, once. And I am trying to learn what that meant to me. I cannot give you everything. I need some time for myself.” Anders looks up at him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Fenris. Are you saying you want me or not? I’m not asking you to marry me. Maker knows that’s illegal anyway.” He cannot help the anger creeping into his voice. It should not be illegal for mages to set up households. He should not have to look at what Mahanon and Imladris have and envy. It should be his right. He pulls himself up. The night is sweet and heavy with the smell of apples. There are a few more they have to pick in the morning, before they return to Kirkwall. “I will never pressure you into anything you don’t want.” He is insulted now. He has been as gentle as he can. He wants him, of course he does, but he is not a monster. He would never force someone to deal with him if they did not want to. He has had enough unwanted advances in his life, he would never do that. Fenris should know that. He should trust him that far, at least. He is not a monster. Fenris blinks. “No! I do want you.” Even in the darkness he can see him blushing. “I want this. This intimacy. But I need to take this slowly. I have known you a long time, Anders. I would like this to last.” Anders leans in to kiss him. Fenris runs his fingers through his hair. It is unthinkable that he has this tenderness. He is sitting under an apple tree, kissing a beautiful man, in a crisp autumn night as the stars blaze overhead and revolution broils in the streets of Kirkwall. In the Circle he never dared dream of this. Even in the Wardens he could not see this kind of peace, letting a crotchety elf from Tevinter make him tender. He undulates against him. He feels like he is melting. He has always fallen in love too easily. They break from the kiss and Anders rests his head against him. He says sadly, “I’m not sure how much time we’ll have. Things are getting worse in Kirkwall. And Varric can’t pay off the guards forever. If Meredith calls for the Right of Annulment, I’m going to burn that city down, Fenris. Cullen wants to make us all Tranquil. I won’t let them. I’ll bathe the city in blood if I have to, but I’m not going to let them fucking kill me and get away with it. Rip out my brain and sell me back to the Chantry. Do you understand? The Tranquil you see, selling trinkets for the Chanters’ Board, those are my friends. Were my friends. I can’t let that happen again.” Anger tears at him again. Karl deserved better. Karl deserved freedom. Karl deserved this sort of love, nuzzling under an apple orchard. Fenris says, “Do you think I will let them? Let alone my feelings for you--I know what they do to the Tranquil. I’ve seen Samson begging in the street. I know how the Blind Men get their wares. I know how many Tranquil pass through their hands.” He looks at him squarely, and Anders forces himself to meet the intensity of his gaze. “I did not escape Tevinter to stand idly by in the wake of such injustice. Magic is dangerous. We agree on that. But imprisoning people for life? Ripping families apart? Destroying people’s minds? No. Tevinter has chattel, Orlais has serfs, but in the Free Marches, you have the refugees and the Tranquil. I know a slave when I see one.” Maker he’s gorgeous, righteous in the pale moonlight. Anders swallows. “If you talk like that, I’ll fall in love with you,” he tells him. Fenris laughs. “Come to the community meetings in the alienage. My speeches are nothing compared to the hahren. And you never heard Mahanon speak. He could talk the dead into marching again.” He had not been able to hear the elf speak--Anders was too busy worrying to properly enjoy the action, before everything went to hell. He smiles wryly. He has always hated rallies. He can never hear the speakers, and staying so long in one place gave the guards time to prepare. He misses the sizzling fights with the other liberati from the Circle so much his heart clenches. He kisses Fenris: not alone for now, not alone right now at least. This tenderness exists. Anders says, “Have you ever read my manifesto? We’re going to try distributing it next month--it was supposed to be this month, but then, well, we had to leave town.” Fenris stills as Anders’s hands creep into his hair. The man’s even tense in his scalp. He strokes him gently. He can get him to unwind. “Mm,” Fenris manages. “Read it to me. When we get back.” When they get back: Kirkwall is sitting glittering down the mountain, hugging the bay, surrounded by those statues of tortured slaves. It’s horrible. There is so much work to be done. He needs to finalize edits, he needs to coordinate with the printer, he needs to find the liaison to that elf publication called Fen’Harel’s Teeth, someone called Slow Arrow wrote him and said they would publish a copy. Anxiety stirs up his heart beat. The Carta doesn’t like them trying to circumvent their printers, and there’s only one Carta clan who isn’t charging a legion’s worth of enchanted helmets, and they’re at war with the Thieves’ Guild right now. It can never be easy. No one can ever get alone. He should know. He’s the most obstinate out of all of them. “Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks. “I’m getting cold.” Fenris’ expression is almost unreadable in the moonlight. The wind stirs the applewood. The harvest is ending soon. Anders wishes he were a painter, to commit this to something more immortal than his memory, that he could enchant the smell of the woods and Fenris’ own earthier scent, the sound of the wind and his heart, and the crisp cold cutting away doubt. Justice says, a bit doubtfully, there is a way, but you wouldn’t be very good at it. Stick to your words. Justice is very judgemental. He snorts. Fenris says gingerly, “Are you talking to yourself?” “Justice thinks I would be a terrible painter,” Anders says, shaking his head. He detaches himself from him and pulls himself up. He offers Fenris a hand. Fenris takes it. Anders smiles and smooths Fenris’ hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “He says I should use my words to tell you how beautiful you are. The way your eyes shine in the light, the set of your jaw…” Fenris says drily, “You certainly aren’t a poet. Try again.” They walk back to the house hand-in-hand, setting into bed. Fenris reads a little by candlelight as Anders combs his hair, frowning at the page. It is the first time they have decided to stay in the same bed together, rather than Anders just slipping in when it gets too cold. Anders hopes it is not the last. He cocoons himself in the blankets as Fenris traces the lines at the end of the page. Fenris looks down at him and snorts. “I’m cold,” Anders says petulantly. He thinks, you could warm me up. Fenris closes the book and snuffs the candle. He tugs at his blankets, so Anders loosens the wrap to let Fenris pull him in. Eventually they fall asleep, and Anders is smiling when he wakes up to Fenris looking at him wondrously. The tenderness in his eyes is so raw it hurts.

#co-zautumn #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #fanfic #da2 #fenders #fenris/anders #anders/fenris #anders #fenris #5lazarus #hes5thlazarus #dragon age fanfic

[amuseoffyre]

Another ficbit :)

woodelf68 said:     How about the Vikings’ sacking of Lindisfarne in 793?     

Note: this may have been the easiest one so far, since I’ve actually been there and included some of the stuff I learned while trotting about the island :D

Lindisfarne - 793AD

The tall candle stand crashed as it fell, candles bouncing and rolling across the floor, spattering wax in their way. Flames licked at the edge of the monks’ desks and they stamped at them, trying desperately to smother them.

“This is–” One of their number – the only one to look more angry than afraid – pushed his way to the front of the huddle monks. “How dare you!”

The leader of the raiding party grinned at him, showing his teeth, as he raised his arm and his sword.

“Oi! No!”

The sword was swinging down too fast.

Aziraphale lifted his hands to miracle the sword away, but somewhere behind the armed man, someone snapped their fingers.

The angel blinked in surprise as the Viking – and the rest of the room – froze in place. He leaned sideways, squinting over the furs of the Viking’s cape. Another Viking was picking his way towards them, his red hair and beard braided and dark streaks of war paint around his eyes. “Crowley?”

The demon gave him a cheery wave. “All right, Aziraphale? How’re things?”

“How are things?” Aziraphale stared at him in outraged indignation. “Your people attacked my monastery!”

The demon’s gaze flicked from the frozen Vikings to the cowering huddle of monks, the light of the motionless flames gleaming strangely in his eyes. “Oh. Right. Yeah.” He offered a lop-sided smile. “Hazard of the job, isn’t it? Anyway, not my people. Just getting a lift back from Gotland. Not my fault your lot keep a bunch of gold and shiny bits and pieces, is it? Can’t help it if these lads – and Freya – are magpies.”

Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh for Heaven’s…”

“What do you mean your monastery anyway?”

Aziraphale lowered his hand to glare at Crowley. “Any place that is a place of goodness, mercy, hope–”

“And big gold crosses and jewels,” Crowley put in helpfully, looking far too amused. “Don’t forget the worldly possessions. Can’t forget those.”

“Shut up.”

The demon flashed his teeth and wrinkled his nose. “Temper, temper, Aziraphale. Anyone would think you were…” He glanced about, then leaned closer and said in a stage-whisper, “Wrathful.”

Aziraphale was very tempted to give him a firm smack around the ear. “I’ve been working very hard here!” he said indignantly. “I can’t have you destroying what they’ve created.”

“Working?” Crowley wrinkled his nose again. “Not exactly challenging, is it? Religious people are the easy way out. What’s so special–”

Aziraphale caught him by the arm, transporting them to another room. There were more Vikings and monks there, several of the latter bleeding on the floor. Aziraphale’s heart ached, but humanity was humanity and people would kill and be killed as they always had. Ever since the first sword was placed in their grip.

Another thought came up quickly behind it and he squashed it.

It was no good worrying about the part he’d played in it all, when there were Vikings and blood on the floor.

“Here,” he said, stepping over the fallen men to the chest that contained Eadfrith’s life’s work. The catch opened smoothly and he lifted out the most precious of the monastery’s works. The book was thick and heavy and utterly beautiful.

For once, Crowley didn’t seem to have anything glib to say.

“They… made this?”

Aziraphale nodded, spreading his fingers on the illuminated pages. “One man and his followers. A testament to their faith and their love,” he said softly. “Please. You can’t let them destroy it.” He hated to admit it but his voice trembled. “I couldn’t bear to see such devotion burned.”

For several heartbeats, Crowley was silent. He ran his thumb around the shape of the head letter.

“They’ll want the cover,” he finally said. “Don’t think they’d even care about the book.” He raised his eyes to Aziraphale’s. “If you can encourage one of yours to…” – he hesitated, then mimed smacking something with his axe – “commit a mortal sin to get to it, I can get one of mine to show mercy to him – and it – so he can get it out of here.”

That sounded awfully like an offer made before, only now there was no time to moralise and speculate.

“I can talk to your friends–” He began.

Crowley glanced over at the bloody Vikings, a doubtful expression on his face. “You want to try?” He shook his head. “We don’t have time to debate the ethics. These lads are… well, they like a bit of a massacre. They won’t stop.”

He was right, of course. Blessings and guiding people towards the light took time, not something they had when warriors were in the throes of pillaging.

“My fellow will do what he has to,” he said stiffly, “but for the greater good.”

For a moment, the demon look at him with something like sympathy in his eyes. “I hope he knows that.”

  The next day

The ruins of the abbey were still smouldering. Bodies were scattered on the ground. A lone monk was picking his way back across the path worn into the grass beyond the abbey. His face was ashen, his eyes red. Bloody hands cradled a bundle to his chest, carefully wrapped in cloth.

On an outcrop overlooking the ruins, an angel and a demon stood side-by-side, watching as the young monk stumbled towards the causeway, the tide out far enough for him to wade across to the mainland with his precious burden. In the pre-dawn light, they’d watched him gather the relics of the Saint too, ladening himself down for his flight.

“You all right, angel?” Crowley asked quietly.

Not for the first time, Aziraphale wondered if he deserved that title. He looked down at his hands. He had been twisting them over and over and by now, they should have been bruised and sore. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. His brow creased in a worried frown. “It– that–”

“Tempting,” Crowley murmured.

“Yes. That.” Aziraphale shook his head, confusion rife on his face. “It shouldn’t have been so simple.”

The demon nodded, gazing at him. “We’re two sides of the same coin, you and I. Same job in different directions. All you had to do was shift your perspective a bit.” One side of his mouth turned up. “No-score draw, eh? One for temptation, one for redemption. Doesn’t matter who did what as long as it got the job done.”

“Only this time,” the angel said firmly, though his voice was unsteady. “One time. Never again.”

The demon gazed back at the burning ruins. Scraps of tapestry fluttered in the wind. “He’ll come back.”

Aziraphale looked at him. “The monk?”

Crowley shook his head. “Leif Magnusson.” There was an odd, wistful smile whispering around his lips. “He saw the book. He’s… curious now. Fascinated.” He slanted a sidelong look at Aziraphale. “Made sure of that.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were round. “You… saved him?”

Crowley shrugged. “Can’t be sure. Maybe. Just enough of a nudge in the… right direction. May not end well for him.” He laughed, a little sadly. “Curiosity can get you in a lot of trouble.” He met the angel’s incredulous look. “Why so surprised? I was a damned good angel in my time. Been a while, but I still know a few of the tricks of the trade.”

The angel was staring at him as if he’d never truly seen him before. “Oh.”

The demon turned to grin at him, even if it looked a bit more forced than usual. “Sure you don’t want to take me up on my offer, now you know how bloody good I am?”

“Oh!” This time the sound was more indignant. “No!” The angel turned and stormed away from him.

Alone on the outcrop, Crowley watched him go.

#good omens fic #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #fic: crossing paths

[scorpio-skies]

Interview with an OC -Nora Hart

(I was tagged by the lovely @lothrilzul and very likely other people but my inbox is messed up and I lost track T^T But thank you very much for thinking of me! ♥ ) 

Tagging: @eluvisen @mrninjapineapple @sociallyacceptablemadness @ariejul @alexaberkeley @marvilus73 @prezs @mars-colony @charomiami @leporidaefluff @solesurvivorkat (feel free to ignore if this is your second tag -- and if you have yet to do this dear reader, then consider this your invite and tag me >8D)

Important to note; this is Nora from an upcoming collab-fic and she’s not the sole survivor in this verse! (Honestly this is my favourite universe and story for her so there’s a lot different from her typical canon!)

1. What is your name?

“Nora Hart, at your service! Lucky to my friends!”

2. Do you know why are you named that?

“My actual name, not a clue. My nickname though? I once won several jackpots in New Vegas, survived a lot of things I shouldn’t and have yet to lose a game of cards. Scout tried to rig a game once and somehow his card ended up in my hand and I won again. It’s like magic! But that’s why they call me Lady Luck!”

3. Are you single or taken?

“Taken and part of a happy family -- I would introduce you to our daughbear, but Sarge is doing his side of the parenting right now.”

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“Well, there’s my luck, obviously. Kammie says I have gift for making dangerous friends but uh… we don’t talk about Richard. Oh! Also there’s my ability to get out of the boring jobs! Can’t be a member of Houdini Squad if you can’t break in or out of places, right?”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“...I’m Nora Hart? I thought we weren’t drinking in this interview… do you need a lie down?”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Blue!”

7. How about your hair color?

“Black -- maybe dark brown? It gets a little warmer in colour when I’ve been in the sunlight too long. I did not appreciate that Nuka-World sunshine by the way, no sir.”

8. Have any family members?

“Houdini Squad are my family -- and Kaelyn and Nate! If I had to narrow it down further, Sarge is my partner, Hayley is our daughbear, Kammie’s my brother. Sure, we’re not blood but our bond’s stronger than that and his Ma and cousin adopted me when I was in the Mojave, so!”

9. Oh? How about pets?

“Let’s see there’s the radstags, Sarge’s babies Maisie and Booker, Blanche the radgull who lives on our porch, Luna and Celeste the cats… You’re waiting for me to mention Hayley, aren’t you? Well, let me tell you that little bear is our daughter, not our pet. She’s also a member of Houdini Squad so… check your bag before you leave.”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

“Needles, I… and I don’t like the dark overmuch, or ferals. Or raiders. I really, really hate raiders… ugh can we just… next question!”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“Good switch! So I like to hang out with squad, play hide-and-pray when we’re skipping duty and Sarge comes looking -- that’s gotten harder, by the way. Think he’s finally realised how to use that voice and those eyes and… and I also like raising animals! Training the radstags! Trying to teach Hayley to be better behaved, but let’s be real. Those big brown eyes and little round earses and pawsies! How can you call her a bad bear! She’s the best bear! Queen of the bears!”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“... I’ve hurt more people in more ways than I can count. And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Yeah. It was always in self-defence though, and you don’t survive a place like Nuka-World without getting blood on your hands...”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“A magpie. I’m gonna be straight with you. I see a shiny? I like the shiny, I take the shiny. But I do it fairly through buying or gambling!”

15. Name your worst habits?

"Oh boy this might take a while… so I clearly have a gambling problem. I mean, it’s not a problem coz I never lose but I know I do too much of it. I tend to want to adopt every animal we encounter, I guess I can be kinda judgemental, yet ironically I definitely befriended one of the absolute worst people on the planet...”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Sarge is one helluva leader and keeps us all together and I adore him. Kammie’s always had my back and has great intentions -- and Kaelyn. I’d be dead several times over and worse without her. She had to make some ugly but necessary calls and she always did it for everyone else, never herself. I don’t know if I could be so selfless, but I admire her greatly.”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“I’ve only ever been with Sarge, but I can appreciate everyone!”

18. Do you go to school?

“Never went -- feels like I’m there when Sarge makes us stand in the naughty corner to think about what we did and write him an essay though.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I’d love to get married and have kids, yeah, but… I don’t know if I can have kids of my own, and I don’t know if Sarge is ready to get married yet. But that’s okay! We have our daughbear and she’s beautiful!”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Well, not to brag but I did gain a small following in New Vegas who wanted to bask in my winnings! Kinda felt embarrassing though. Houdini Squad are all the cheerleaders I need!”

21. What are you most afraid of?

“Being abandoned and left alone.”

22. What do you usually wear?

“My hat, a duster, some riding gear and body armour with a few hidden weapons… yeah, I never grew out of the habit after Nuka World…”

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“Snack Cakes! They’re just great, y’know? Sweet little pieces of heaven you can eat!“

24. Am I annoying to you?

"Nah. You’re nosy but I like you! You bought me lunch for this interview!”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

“Good! I don’t think the others are done setting up your ‘surprise’ yet.”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

“Honestly thanks to the winnings in New Vegas, I’m probably high class. Definitely new money though, I mean the looks those Upperstanders give me when I prove I can buy their houses, sheesh!”

27. How many friends do you have?

“Too many to count! I have eight I can fall back on without question though, and they’re the ones that matter most to me.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Pie is second only to snack cakes -- Dandy Apple pies mm-mmm!”

29. Favorite drink?

“Sunset Sarsparilla! I mean, I love how Nuka-Cola flavours glow and all, not so much how they make your teeth and tongue glow too...“

30. What’s your favorite place?

"Ever been to Sunshine? Me, Kammie and Sarge own it. We’ve turned it into a beautiful ranch and its just an amazing place to live. Safe, beautiful and surrounded by my animals and family. Who could want more than that?”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

“Already told you I’m with Sarge, and I’m exclusive when it comes to relationships.”

32. That was a stupid question…

“Well, I mean, you called me Mary Sue earlier so its not the worst thing you’ve said so far...”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Oh god how about neither? You ever seen a queen or king lurk before? How about a gatorclaw?“

34. What’s your type?

“Kind, compassionate, brave, intelligent, believes in the greater good and fights for those they care about… I don’t know, just go see Sarge! I never met anyone else like him, but he’s my type!”

35. Any fetishes?

“Yeah, okay. This is the most stupid question! That stuff’s private you kinky radrat!”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“Camping is more secure and you can get plenty of outdoors while camping, so why not both?”

#nora hart #fallout 4 #had fun with this ty for tagging me! ♥

[one-true-houselight]

It’s me, doing stand up!

I cut out the spelling of my name for privacy reasons. Also, the bit that’s cut off the the end is just me saying that I never went skiing again, and that now I just do safe things, like trying to enter the adult job market. 

Transcript under the cut, and if you are so inclined, my Ko-Fi is in my bio. Thanks!

Hello everyone, I am Erika, and tonight I will be performing All Star by Smash Mouth.

I’m kidding, no one would want to hear that. I cannot sing.

(from the crowd: I would!)

(laughter) You don’t want to hear me sing, I promise you.

Alright! Hi! In actuality, I am Erika (last name, pronounced ko-kek), and you’re like ‘ooh, we get a last name now, a mystery, and you’re like it’s an interesting last name too!’ That’s probably because you’ve never seen it spelled out. Let me walk you through my last name (ko-kek), alright, are you ready for this, are you ready: [redacted spelling]. Yeah! Four Ks! That’s a lot of Ks, and they’re in a real strange order. If you- if you noticed, uh, it’s the same set of four letters twice, it’s [redacted spelling] but you may have also noticed that’s not how it’s pronounced! Cuz you know, that would make sense. This is apparently from, like, changes in immigration, that you know happen, which, this is according to my uncle. But my grandfather, who lived in the Netherlands in the 40s (yeah, those 40s), pronounces it like Ko-Kek, so I’m inclined to believe him.

Now, having a weird last name in school is always kind of a crazy existence, though I will say, most of the time when people are like ‘oh, that’s a weird last name’, it’s because people are racist, or at the very least are being like  ‘oh, I’m gonna put Western Expectations on things that shouldn’t have them’, but as you see, my last name, is Dutch, as I mentioned, and Dutch white people, which I am one of, have done some incredibly awful things, so I don’t feel bad mocking it. So we continue on. So, this, so with my last name in roll call, we could change my last name to [silence] and it would sound the same. Let me, let me walk you through…Let me walk you through a roll call, so like the teacher’s up here, and they’re like ‘Alright, let’s see…we have Ferris Beuller? Oh you showed up, very good, alright. Harry Potter? Oh, you didn’t die, that’s fantastic. And then, Erika…[long silence]. And I’m just over here like ‘oh yeah that’s me, hi.’ Now sometimes, I like to speed it up, and rather than say here or present or anything, I’ll just say my last name (Ko-kek) to like, speed up the conversation so it’s not like, uh, Erika, long pause, here, oh, how do you pronounce that?, Ko-kek, it just speeds up the process. So, I’ll go, they’ll go Erika… and I’ll say (Ko-kek). The problem is they’ll get confused sometimes. They’ll look at me and they’ll go ‘Oh, is that here in Dutch?’ No. But you did your best.

And not only does my last name have enough Ks to stop a substitute teacher dead in their tracks, my first name? Erika? Also with a K. My sibling is Kat with a K, my mother is Karolyn with a K, though that’s not her fault, she kind of like, came into it and was like ‘oh, I guess this works out’. And my father…is Doug. But, but, he has a middle name that’s very strange and has a K in it so it all works out, it’s fine. So, if you’re ever like reading something, and you’re looking at it and you’re like ‘huh, there should be a K in this word’, it probably wasn’t a typo, my family just needed to name another child and just like, stole it.

So, I do have to say I’m Erika with a K a lot, because most people will assume it’s with a C. Or, more recently, two Ks. Which is kind of fun, but it’s also at the same time like ‘I’m drowning in Ks, please don’t give me more!’ But no, so I say Erika with a K a lot, which means I realized something really really cool. That rhymes with Erika with a They! These are the puns the queer community was built upon.

I do use they/them pronouns, and I even wear a little tag for it, it’s right here, it’s very nice. Um, and, it’s just kind of weird sometimes, because people will sometimes not use my pronouns, which kinda makes me sad. But I’ve realized something. I was just assuming they were reading the tag and just being rude about it. But recently, I’ve realized that they’re just not reading the tag. The way I’ve realized this is I’ll be like, walking through Target, and someone will be, like, looking around, and they’ll see me and they’ll see the tag and go ‘A ha! A worker!’ And they’ll be like ‘Do you know where the towels are?’ And this is very strange for me, mostly because I know where the towels are. So I’ll go ‘Ok, they’re over there in that corner, but I don’t work here, please.’ And, and they’re like ‘Oh, I just assumed you did because of your name tag.’ Now there’s a couple of problems with that. My ‘name tag’, as they put it, doesn’t have a name on it, which means they clearly didn’t read it. The other big problem with it is that most stores or places of business have a sense of decorum, or at least consistency in their design. My tag, on the other hand, while I love it very much, how do I put this, it doesn’t look good. It looks like if an eight year old magpie with attention issues made it at summer camp. This is basically how the making of my tag went: I’m was just sitting there and I’m like ‘Alright, I’m gonna put five shiny things on it. Wonderful, wonderful, this random piece of gaff tape? That has to go on, that’s, like, that’s key to the whole pronoun tag process. Now, for the words. And I start writing, I’m like ‘they/them and-’ oh my god. What if I could fit more shiny things on it? I’m still writing, I don’t know what I’m writing at this point, it doesn’t look good. Oh, I could put more shiny things on it, maybe I could like, steal a rock and somehow affix that to it…And then I look down and I’m like ‘oh, I finished the words, guess I’m gonna just put it on my shirt!’ And it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. So, a lot of people don’t read the tag, but a lot of people do, and I have a lot of wonderful friends and family who support me very much.

Though, being openly trans can be, can get a little confusing sometimes. Sometimes I’ll tell stories about being in the Girl Scouts, and be like ‘Ha, that’s funny for obvious reasons!’ and people will be like, ‘oh, it’s the girl thing!’, and I’ll be like ‘no!’. Because the Girl Scouts are actually super cool about trans girls and non binary kids, which we appreciate very much, especially because it gives us a very good reason to buy Girl Scout cookies, beyond just buying something to fill the hole in your heart.

Crowd: support the gays!

Exactly! But no, the weird part about it for me is the scout part. Let me tell you a story. So one time when I was sixteen years old, I was a camp counselor for a bunch of small children, and we went to a playground one time. So I’m wandering around, like you do, like making sure the children don’t like, die, and I see two girls sitting under a tree, and they’re doing the whole, like,  ‘rub two sticks together to start a fire’ thing. So I go ‘I’m gonna wander over and see how they’re doing’, and I’m like ‘How’re you doing, kids?’ And they look at me and they’re like ‘Erika? Why do you rub two sticks together to start a fire?’ and I’m like ‘Well, that’s a very interesting question, so you see, there’s a fire triangle, and the fire triangle has heat, fuel, and oxygen, and you have to have all three because fire is just adding oxygen-‘ And I just go on this like, five minute tangent about, like, talking about the science of fire, and you’re probably sitting there thinking like. Erika, explaining how fire works is like, the most scout thing you can do, and normally I would agree with you. Except. I talked for five minutes about the ins and outs of fire science, and neglected to mention fire safety. So I realize this, and I’m like ‘oh no, I’m going to start a wildfire by proxy’, so I just start yelling fire safety tips with absolutely no context. So I’m like, ‘You need a bucket of sand!’, I didn’t tell them why they needed the sand, I just said you needed one, and I’m like ‘build a circle of rocks on the ground!’, and they’re just gonna do that and go ‘I can build fires for the rest of my life, perfect!’ And then I’m sitting there, so like, another counselor is walking behind me like ‘two minutes left’, I’m like ‘Oh no, I have two minutes to like, save my entire town’, and I’m like ‘You should probably have an adult present’, and then I realize I probably should have mentioned that first, and I was like, ‘alright, just imagine I said adult present first, and just, and then put everything else, remember everything else, but remember adult first, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’ So, luckily, my town has not had any reports of wildfires. But suffice it to say, I am not exactly scout material.

I am going to finish out the night by telling you a story from my scouting days. I was about eight years old, and we went on a ski trip. Now, let me tell you a little thing about eight year old Erika. You may have noticed that up here as a 20 year old, I’m a little bit lanky, my limbs do weird things as I run about the stage like an excited golden retriever. But see, I’m like, at a controllable lanky now. When I was eight, I was just gangly. My limbs just changed like, lengths every day, sometimes by multiple feet. So I’d be like, walking along, and I’d like just, kick a doorway, or like I’d be sitting and raising my hand, you know how like, you sometimes hit your hand on your desk, and you did it like, once a month? I did it twice a day. And people would be like, ‘Erika why do you keep hitting your hand on the desk?’ and I’m like ‘Cause my hand wasn’t there before! It was over here, I don’t know what’s happening!’ It was like I was living in a world of cartoon physics that I didn’t have control over. So I’m just like, ‘I guess I’m walking and my arms over here now, great!’ So my scouting troop looked at this, and was like ‘you know I think would be a great idea to do to this tiny, eight year old, whatever this is? We’re gonna stick a piece of wood, long, skinny, really slippery piece of wood on each of their feet, and then we’re gonna push them down a mountain.’ So, uh, you can probably tell where this story is going.

So, we get to the mountain, and I have my skis, we had to like, wait in a really long line, and I’m like, ‘oh, I’m so excited to go skiing’. So I’m walking around and I’m like, ‘alright, this is very exciting’, I see there’s a ski lesson about to start, and I’m like ‘I should probably do that because I want to make sure I know what’s going on’, so if you’ve never been skiing before, here’s what a skiing lesson is. You have a large group of people that want to learn how to ski, and you have a very excited person ready to tell you about skiing. So, you all go with them, you walk sideways up the mountain because you know, whatever. And the person, the very enthusiastic person, tells you a lot of really good skiing tips, and I, an eight year old with undiagnosed ADHD, sat there, and uh, kind of cycled between looking at the person, watching their mouth move, and having my audio processing like, on the ski lift, OR, I would be watching them, and a skier would go by, and I would watch the skier and be like, ‘oh, maybe I can pick up some tips from the skier’, absolutely ignoring the person that’s just giving me the tips for free. So I did not pick up a lot of good ski tips, but I did pick up one, and this is, this is, I will always remember this. He was like ‘alright, if you’re going down the mountain, and you want to slow down or stop, you make a triangle with your skis.’ And so I was like ‘alright, I’ve got it. I make a triangle with my skis to go slow, great, fantastic.’ So then, I’m like, ‘alright. I know everything there is to know about skiing. It is time to get started.’

So the first time I fell a lot, which, you know, of course you fall a lot, it’s you first time, and like, who knows what skiing is. The second time I also fell a lot and you know, I’m still getting the hang of it. Third time, also fell a lot, but you know, it’s fine. I’m just going to like, skip to the end, because I fell most of the times. It was less of me skiing down the mountain, and more of me just falling over and over again until I reached the bottom. But then, the last run of the day, I’m like ‘alright, I’m gonna do this’, I get about three quarters of the way down the mountain and I haven’t fallen once. And I’m just sitting there like ‘oh my god, I’m the skiing master. Oh my god, I’m gonna go to the Olympics. It’s gonna be great.’ So I am, I’m going down the mountain and, if don’t know if you know this about physics, because I wasn’t stopping and starting by just falling down constantly, I actually picked up a little bit of speed, which was really nice. But at this point, I was going a little bit faster than I intended to go, and I was like, ‘Huh. I kind of want to slow down now’, so I go into the little card catalogue that is my mind and I’m like ‘a ha! Triangle equals slow! Perfect!’ So I, I look down at my skis because I want to make sure I’m doing it right,  and I’m like ‘alright, ready, here we go. Triangle.’ And nothing happened. Now the problem with this is, is that I was eight, and didn’t have critical thinking skills. So I looked at this situation, and I said, ‘huh. This triangle is not working. But it’s the only thing I know about skiing, and since I am a skiing master and know everything, this can be the only solution.’ So I double down on the triangle.

Now here’s the thing. I tell this story a lot, and one time I was telling it and I got to this part, and my friend looked at me and said the following: ‘You were doing the wrong kind of triangle!’ Which is a baffling thing to have yelled at you. So I was sitting there like ‘what are you ta- Was I doing an isosceles? Should I have been doing a scalene? Like, did you want me to yell the pythagorean theorem at it? I don’t know what you’re telling me!’ So she could not explain it, so we moved on. So then I told this story again, and another set of friends was like ‘Erika. She meant you had to do a triangle like this.’ And I was like, ‘oh, because that would actually stop the, oooooh.’ So now, twelve years after this story happened, I now know how to ski. So that’s cool, but back to me being eight years old.

At this point, I am going even faster than before, somehow, going much faster than any eight year old pile of limbs should ever be going, and I go ‘this is bad, I can no longer, uh, control which direction I’m going’, which is bad because I’m heading right for a circle of snowboarders. And so I’m I’m, I’m like, trying to turn and I can’t and I’m like ‘oh no’, so I just kind of look up at them, because I am approaching them at quite a speed, and I just start screaming, ‘HEY! YOU GOTTA MOVE! I CAN’T STEER!’ So they look up at just this banshee shriek from up the mountain, and they go, ‘huh. we should move,’ and they do, as well as they can, because they only have one piece of wood instead of the two that I was privileged to have. But they manage to make it out of the way, and I don’t hit anyone, and I continue down the mountain.

At this point, I literally, like, sit down on my skis and dig my hands into the snow in an attempt to stop myself, which works slightly better than the triangle, which isn’t saying much. So at this point, I have basically reached the bottom of the mountain, and I have reached, and at the bottom of the mountain there was a straight-away, and at the end of the straight-away there was a barrier of snow. Now the barrier of snow was about one, one and a half feet. The straight-away…I’m not really good with distances, but it was at least two feet, we’ll go with that. So I reach the straight-away, and I look up for this at least two foot distance. And I see this barrier of snow and I’m like ‘Ah. Here’s where my journey will come to an end.’

So I’m heading down this straight-away, I’m slowly slowing down, but I’m still going at quite a speed, and I’m like, ‘oh, it’ll be a little bit of an impact, but it’ll be fine.’ So here’s what happens. Here’s the barrier of snow, here’s me, here I go. Wheeeeee. And I hit the barrier of snow. And I go up and I go over it into the super secret special hill that they don’t show anyone, because it’s covered in bushes, and rocks, and leads to the parking lot.

So, at this point, I am now somersaulting down the hill, you know, fun times, and I’m grabbing bushes, I am desperately trying to like, not die, and at this point, I decide, I’m like ‘you know what would be a good, you know what would be good at this time? A flashback of my life.’ So my life flashes before my eyes, and it finishes I’m like ‘huh. That didn’t last as long as I thought it would.’ So I’m tumbling, and I’m just like ‘I’m gonna die! It’s fine!’ So I reach the bottom, and I kind of sit there and I take stock of everything, and I look around and I’m like, ‘Hey. I’m alive. I just wasted a life flashback, do you know how expensive that it?’ So I’m sitting there, and then I realize something. I realize that in my current state I cannot move because all of my limbs that change size all the time are tangled together. And I can’t get out of my limbs because my arm is so that like, I would have to hook it around my foot, but my foot is currently eight feet long because there’s a ski attached to it. So I’m-You know those like, Cracker Barrel things, the like, little metal puzzles that you play with for five minutes then give up because you want to play the peg game? I looked like one of those.

So I go into my mental autopsy, which you know, all eight year olds with anxiety have, and I go ‘we’re gonna just change the cause of death to…starvation.’ Which was very very silly, of course, because I would of died of thirst before I died of starvation. So I’m laying there, waiting for my eventual fate, and I look up into the parking lot I landed next to, and I see two guys walking towards me. And I go ‘huh. Interesting,’ and I go back to my mental autopsy, and I recross out starvation, and write ‘murdered in the snow, while tangled in my own limbs.’ So I’m just like, ‘there’s nothing I can do’, so I just kind of look at them, and they’re looking at me.

Luckily for me though, they were just coming over to help, because from their perspective, they had just seen a screaming ball of just, extremities, shoot over the barrier, tumble down a mountain, and then just lie there motionless for a while. So they walk over, and they’re very nice, they help me out of my skis, and they’re like ‘Do you, do you need to go into the lodge?’ and I’m like ‘Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.’ So I, so they walk me into the lodge and we find my mother who’s there, hello, hi mom, and, and she’s like ‘what happened?’ And I’m like ‘I don’t know.’

#mine #comedy #standup #standup comedy #skiing #pronouns #non binary #names #stories #LMAO IT ME #also you can literally play this video at .75 and it sounds normal #ooops

[snowwritesall]

Writing update #2 Anathema + new WIP!

Hi folks, hope y'all have been doing well and staying healthy - I've had a pretty trying week and my financial situation is gonna be tight at best for the next few months but I'm still trying to maintain a positive outlook. With that being said, I'm gonna give you guys some updates and excerpts on my current WIP, Anathema, and a new novel that I started the other day (yes I'm well aware I have way too many wips but I'm dumb and listen to no one's advice :)

Anyway, that being said, onto the updates!

Anathema is my surreal sci fi novel that I came up with last year and has spent many months under development. A brief summary on the novel for you!

The tea on my novel: 

I absolutely love the concept of my novel - keeping in mind that there is a lot of the plot hidden because I don’t want to spoil the entire book - however, there are a lot of things that need work. Seraph - my main character - still feels a little flimsy and underdeveloped - as well as my side characters, who have had limited interactions with Seraph throughout the novel as far - mainly due to the reason that I’ve been focusing on narrative rather than characters. The next thing that I’m finding is a problem is that there’s barely any dialogue between what character interaction I do have. I’ve been focusing a lot on the vibe and feeling of my book - I really want to create an eerie, almost alien feel, without being fully horroresque - think Coraline x Limbo. 

The things that I do like about my novel: 

- I really love the literary devices that I’ve come up with to help give the story that eerie vibe I want. 

a) Really weird rhetorical questions

b) interjections of two unknown characters that comment on Seraph and his friends when they’re together

c) POV of animals and inanimate objects 

Here are some examples of both: 

a)  Really weird rhetorical questions

The wind seems strangely muted to Seraph, as if moving through a half-awake dream, or sinking in murky water that chills the bones.

Why does the water hurt? This is only one of the questions hurtling through his mind, but there are many more barrelling inside his head; a turbulent chamber of thoughts and unspoken quandaries that crescendo in the night hour. He is curious. And that - that, is what will save him.  

ai)

The beetles crawl up the blackened bark, wings glistening from between the cracks. They make soft, chittering noises as they climb aimlessly up the branch. Their path is strangely linear, their wings a malachite soaked fluorescent in the bitter, fuse sharp breeze. If they were to travel down the length of Seraph's spine; their strange, crackled wings fluttering against his ashen, ghostly skin; they would calm him as they walked up the shallow curve of his spine and nestled in his hair, a dim saucer of moonlight that they would bathe in.

Is the moon ever lonely?

b)   Interjections of two unknown characters that comment on Seraph and his friends when they’re together

“What was it like?”

His voice shakes as he asks, still staring at his hands. Wilbur is teething his lip, his jaw hardening like clay left in the sun.

  “Were there others? Are we the only ones left?”

Are we the only ones left?

They both look scared, don’t they?

     No. Not scared. Doomed.

Why are they doomed?

      Because they were never meant to be here.

Wilbur continues to stare out at the forest, and after a moment takes a few steps forward, shoveling his feet into the soil; the wind rifling through his clothes. He looks like a scarecrow made of marble, distant, ghostly - not real.

  Were any of them real?

c) POV’s of animals 

Seraph had stroked the snake gently, the scales cold and undulating under his fingers, the snake mothers eyes dark and pupils, her nose nudging the wings of the fledglings.

“Don’t eat your babies, mother snake. They love you. Don’t leave them.”

I have found my new children. My own children were buried in a sandstorm, and I milked my venom from my teeth on the carcass of a deer. There was no one to sing them to sleep as they died. I will listen to this strange boy. I will take care of my children.

I will not leave them.

ci) 

The forest is very cold for us. Even we, with our wings like a shield and a fur coat, even we feel the wind. The bark splinters are like earthquakes under our feet, even though there have been no earthquakes for centuries. We remember. We remember when the earth shook and trembled, and when we would seek shelter amongst the splintering trees and scuttle for cover under broken fern leaves. He comes to see us. The boy with curious eyes that glint like the rock in the sky, his hands are as pale as the eggs the birds lay. He brushes his fingers across our coats, and we shiver; with a strange fear and an even stranger contentment. We are not alone.

 He is not alone. 

Here are some excerpts from the novel that I really like: 

- POV of the boy that drowned in the lake. Seraph remembers this when he looks at the jars of butterflies that he keeps on his windowsill. The clear, glossy surface reminds him of how the lake looked when he watched some of the village men pull the boy’s body out of the lake. 

- Seraph is remembering the first time that one of the children stuck their head in the guillotine in the schoolyard. He remembers thinking how odd it was that they would have something so dangerous where children could find it. Maybe they wanted them to use it. 

Seraph is watching his school teacher polish the guillotine blade through the cover of pine trees. One of his friends, Beluah, creeps up behind him and startles him. They both watch the teacher and talk. 

More commentary of Seraph and Beluah watching the teacher together: 

Okay, that’s all on this novel for now, onto the new WIP! 

Basically, this idea arose from two things - I felt like I was constantly writing in the same sort of style - ie, cold rivers, frost, rain, foggy forests - and I was majorly inspired by Fairytales for Wilde Girls by Alysse Near. This woman has an absolutely INCREDIBLE writing style - I would compare it to the bright and shiny treasures that magpies collect, and her plot and characters are amazing; so a big part of why I’m writing this is because of her. 

The characters appeared really easily to me, and after only a few minutes, I already could feel them writhing around alive inside my mind. But, before I tell you about the characters, a summary of the novel for you! 

When three dead girls show up at school with flowers where their eyes should be and birds living in their chests, Ariel isn’t sure what to think. She’s never really been sure what to think, since her mother sells beads and homemade jewelry for a living and her sister is a snake. Well, two snakes, really. Her parents keep strange things in the closet, like elephants with jellyfish swimming in their stomachs and siamese twins with leopard skins in the attic. And then there’s that strange girl that lives in the mirror.

When three dead girls demand to be brought back to life, you start to panic a little when you realise the closest things you’ve made come alive are the ragdolls in your toy chest.

It gets even worse when they tell you you only have a month or they’ll take you back to the underworld with them. Then you really begin to freak out. And begin to have a mental break down in the middle of class which involves involuntary tap dancing (Except the tap dancing is actually crying. Ariel doesn’t own tap dancing shoes. Not even doll tap dancing shoes.)

It doesn’t help when your best friends are literally ragdolls. She actually has a few real friends. I promise.

Now onto my babies/kids/characters! 

Ariel Hakens: 

has a big giant ball of curly red hair that she likes to dye a new colour every week. She likes glitter but also loves black. Big boots and shiny raincoats are a thing. She love to collec. She loves to garden, but her methods are...unorthodox, shall we say. Loves Edgar Allen Poe, and recites it to herself on the way to school. Does she ditch a lot? Maybe. Who knows. Can apparently see the dead and do weird stuff nobody should be able to. Favourite animals are mice and rats. Is fascinated with the legend of the pied piper. Is like a beaver in the fact that she chews pencils. They’re basically like a midnight snack for her. Favourite foods are peanut butter and cherry tarts.

(yes I am fully aware this is Leigh-Anne Pinnock from Little Mix, but this is what she looks like in my head) 

Gwendolyn Spires: 

She is as extra as the name sounds. She dreams of participating in an illegal dance competition in an abandoned subway tunnel. Her mother is the principal of a ballet boarding school, and highly disapproves of her daughter's skateboarding fetish. Her father is completely on board with it, and also her addiction to gumballs and love for all things haunted. Yes, those spell books are completely real. The amount of salt rocks she keeps in her bag would put a shaman to shame. African American. 

Indie Brooks:

 She’s basically a giant nerd, but covered with tattoos. And piercings. She actually needs those glasses, and she refuses to put in contacts for fear that the government will be able to read her mind. She has a conspiracy theory Youtube Channel, but her theories are really??weird??

Think: we are all giant animals living in a zoo for aliens

Does she have evidence: Yes. Is it sketchy evidence? Also yes.

May or may not have broken into area 51.

Native American/Latina.

Callum Prikhill:

pervy, but not in a sexual way. Will he sell you exam answers in exchange for candy? Possibly. Ironically wears caps. Unironically wears light up shoes. Likes sci-fi movies from the early 70’s. Skinny dipped and LOVED it. Is a theater boy. If he were an animal he would be a lizard. His mother is a low-end movie producer and his father is an accountant. Often stays at his nan’s place a lot because she has a hidden bunker under the house and he very much down for that. Because the acoustics are amazing.

The first time Ariel saw the three dead girls sway through the doors of Helkbud Senior Preparatory School, she was whistling Sissyneck while flipping through her collection of rained on vinyls that she’d chanced to pick up from the thrift store, her tanned dewy legs slick with snow and hail as she pushed hot pink cat eye sunglasses up her freckled nose.

They looked like nesting dolls all jumbled up in a lolly bag, corpse candy sucked dry of their colour and watermelon blush that should have twisted their cheeks into marionette smiles.

The girl in the middle wore poppy red heels that spun and shone like a disco ball at a teenage party where the parents were gone for the weekend and everyone was drinking punch mixed with vodka in cheap, crinkly red cups; and was the shortest of the three; yellow daisies and white crocuses growing out of her eye sockets, petals drinking salty tears out of a chipped watering can that dangled over her head.

Hope you enjoyed hearing about my WIPs, and I’ll keep updating about them as I continue to work on them :)

That’s all for now, folks! 

- Bella. 

#writing #writblr #writers #writercommunity #writeblr #reading #books #novels #lovewriting #wips #writingwip #words #my words #glitter #so much glitter in this one guys

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Even numbers :}

THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU CRAZY KIDDO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND YOU’RE A BLESSING ON THIS WORLD!!!!!!

2: is your room messy or clean?

It’s kind of a mix?? Like I leave my clothes folded on top of the drawers rather than putting them away bc the drawers stick and it’s just easier access. The messiest thing about my room is that I’m a human magpie who likes collecting shiny/interesting things so I have a lot of stones and bits of metal or ceramic and some nuts and bolts lying around pffft. XD But mostly I keep things kinda tidy.

4: do you like your name? why?

I DO NOW!!!! :DDDDD

6: describe your personality in 3 words or less

uUUUuuHHHHHh well-meaning, stubborn, energetic! :D

8: what kind of car do you drive? color?

I currently drive my parents’ car. It’s dark grey… not gonna say what model. XD

10: how would you describe your style?

Like, clothes wise? Either very simple n plain or outrageously colourful n quirky. Depends on the day. XD

12: what size bed do you have?

Double.

14: if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

Oof honestly just back home (in Victoria.) A part of me also wants to try out a big city?? I’ve always lived in the country and tbh I kind of hate big cities because they seem to be filled with rude busy people but I wanna live there just to have something different and so I’ll know for sure and to say I did, y’know? (lmao a friend and I joke that we’re gonna move to NYC together one day, so she can keep my li’l naive country boi ass from getting chewed up and spat out by New Yorkers. I appreciate it. X’D )

16: favorite makeup brand(s)

No idea. I’ve only worn makeup twice, and those times were when my Mum begged me for a solid year until I finally caved and let her do it… grumpily. X’D

18: favorite tv show?

S E N S E 8

20: how tall are you?

5′4. :)

22: do you go to the gym? 

Nope, not enough money. I used to work out a lot at home and I got p ripped but because of my eating disorder I had to stop. Still haven’t started up again yet. :(

24: how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

21 bucks. :D

26: how many pillows do you sleep with?

2. One under my head and one to cuddle (shut up, I kNow. XD )

28: how many friends do you have?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  too lazy to count, however many people I interact with online. I don’t have any irl friends… god that sounds pathetic. XD

30: whats your favorite candle scent?

Absolutely no idea, we never have any. That’s actually something I wanna change when I get my own place. I like candles. They calm me.

32: 3 favorite girl names

God I am so shitty with names. My characters either name themselves or they don’t get names. X’D UUUUUUUUHHHHH, Amber, Ida, Carmen??? idk???

34: favorite actress?

Emma Thompson is an actual fucking legend and I would go to battle for her.

36: favorite movie?

How to Train Your Dragon or Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse! :D (If it has to be live action: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. :P )

38: money or brains? 

Heart.

40: how many times have you been to the hospital?

For myself, personally? Lots when I was a baby bc I had chronic ear infections and would literally just scream 24/7 and never sleep, I was in so much pain (poor tiny Matt. :(((( ) Once because I had a really bad migraine around age 13 that literally would not go away and had me throwing up every other minute and in such bad pain I wanted to literally die. And once recently when I felt super sick for months and months and finally went only to find there was nothing wrong with me?? turned out it was my gluten intolerance but dear god I had never felt that sick.

42: do you take any medications daily?

Just my asthma preventer (and I forget to take that a lot and end up not being able to breathe as well as I should, bc I’m the World’s Biggest Dumbass :)) XD )

44: what is your biggest fear? 

Physically: Not being able to breathe. Emotionally: The people I love ending up hating me just because I’m me. There’s a lot of irony to unpack there but I’m just gonna set the whole suitcase on fire. :)

46: whats your go to hair style?

Shaving the whole damn thing off.

48: who is your role model? 

I don’t really have one?? I guess my parents?? But I don’t really wanna be exactly like them either? I think it’s unwise to put anyone on a pedestal bc nobody’s perfect.

50: what was the last text you sent?

Screaming to a friend about how cute her OC is. XD

52: what is your dream car?

Literally could not care less so long as it gets me where I’m going and it’s neon yellow. X’D

54: do you go to college? 

Nope, dropped out of highschool early lmao.

56: would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

Rural I guess?? But that’s only because I’ve always lived rural and don’t know any different. it’s quiet, I like quiet.

58: do you have freckles? 

Yep! I don’t have them in big patches tho? I just have like, some random single ones scattered all over my body?? XD

60: how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

Don’t have a phone and dear GOD I don’t even wanna know how many pictures I have on my laptop. Answer: too many. XD

62: do you still watch cartoons? 

OF COURSE!! :D

64: Favorite dipping sauce? 

idk I don’t really dip things in sauce? Maybe just tomato sauce?

66: have you ever won a spelling bee?

Yes, actually!! Woooo go bb Matt!! :D

68: can you draw? 

Stick figures? Yes. XD

70:what was the last concert you saw?

Never been to one.

72: Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Only ever been to Starbucks so I can’t really compare. 

74: what is your crush’s first and last initial?

76: what color looks best on you? 

I think blue does. 💙

78: do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Open. Sleeping with it closed freaks me out, idk why. 😅

80: what is your biggest pet peeve? 

Being condescended to. :///

82: favorite ice cream flavor? 

Mint choc chip! Or rainbow! XD

84: chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

GIMME THE GAY SPRINKLES EVERY TIME.

86: what is your phone background?

Laptop background is currently THIS incredibly amazing beautiful accurate drawing Oli did of my OC Ben!!! :’D

88: do you like it when people play with your hair?

Y E S. I used to hate it when it was rlly long but now it’s heaven. ^-^ Unless I’m in one of my ‘being touched makes my skin crawl’ kind of moods.

90: do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Just whenever I have my shower, occasionally during the day if I’m sweaty or whatever. Sometimes if my insomnia kicked me in the ass I splash my face n neck with cold water to wake up in the morning.

92: have you ever been drunk? 

Nope, and I really don’t want to be. The idea of being out of control of myself, even just a little bit, is terrifying to me. No thanks. I also just generally do not like alcohol, idk why. 

94: favorite lyrics right now

My all-time favourite lyrics come from Twenty One Pilots’ song ‘The Judge’ (even though I don’t actually like the song itself I love the lyrics):“When the leader of the bad guys sangSomething soft and soaked in painI heard the echo from his secret hideawayHe must’ve forgot to close his doorAs he cranked out those dismal chordsAnd his four walls declared him insane”

96: day or night? 

*chanting* NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT N

98: favorite month? 

Ironically, considering my character March is a giant dickwad, it’s March. XD The weather is just starting to turn cool after the grueling summer and it’s also my birth month! :D

100: who was the last person you cried in front of?

My Dad. Yikes.

AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKIN, ALEX!!!

#Matt speaks #if you wanna get to know me read this lmao #looong #another interview that I love!!! #:D #<3 #BUDDY :D #bestest bud #I English speak good #X'D #asks #get to know me

[askthenerdyprincessofthejungle]

ABOUT ME

ABOUT ME

Basics.

What is your full name? Alemayehu Tara Porter

What is the meaning/story behind your name? It is quite a long story. When my mother was expecting, but she was still unaware that she was expecting, an old woman from the Waziri tribe, a tribe deep in the heart of the jungle which I have yet to visit one day, gave my mother the news and told her I must be named Alemayehu. It means 'I have seen the world' or even 'I have enjoyed life'. Concerning Tara, my grandfather wanted to have a part in naming me. Tara is a name he always loved. The English version of the name means 'elevated place' in Gaelic, but after some research I found out that the Indian and Hindi meaning comes from the Hindu astral goddess and it means 'star' in Sanskrit. I was a little disappointed when I found out that grandfather was not aware of that when he chose the name. It would have explained my love of sleeping under the starry sky but then again it might be just because of the gorilla nests.

Do you have any nicknames? Friends call me Ale, father calls me monkey long story, and my grandmother likes to call me magpie when I hold any shiny object or feathers because she knows I do not enjoy it.

When and where were you born? May 28 in the jungle.

Current age? 17. What can I say, I am dancing queen! Kidding, I am horrible at dancing.

Physical.

What is your eye color? Blue.

Do you ever wear glasses/contacts? No, but I used to steal my grandfather's reading glasses because I really liked them.

Hair color? Medium brown.

Have you ever dyed your hair? No, I have not. But I was a little tempted to.

Height and body type? I have about 170 cm and, um, I guess... that it is a fit body type? I mean, I constantly do my jungle gymnastics and surfing, or at least try in this place, so I have the necessary muscle to pull and hold my weight.

Do you have any birthmarks? Yeah, I have some weird spots on my back. They look a little like a turtle's shell, but with more space between the irregular pieces and only in a small portion of my back, in the direction of my right ribs.

Any scars or other markings? Quite some scars from my adventures, broken bones, jungle surfing training and a little scar from when I stepped on one of grandfather's broken glass tube.

What is your favorite and least favorite feature? I like my scars. They each tell a story and hold a memory. As for least favourite... I do not find any aspect troubling.

How would you describe your style? Comfortable? Casual with a little sporty touch? I usually wear lively colours and I really like overalls, even if they are a little harder to move in when it comes to jungle surfing. Oh, and most important of all: no shoes. I really hate wearing shoes. So glad I am not a relative of Cinderella's.

Personality.

Positive traits? I am friendly and I love to be active and I usually learn quickly.

Negative traits? I am stubborn, easily offended and around people I can barely talk. I cannot dance because I have two left feet when it comes to beat. I am too curious for my own good and reckless many times. I do not think enough before I speak and do not know how to act around my own kind.

Are you more introverted or extroverted? I believe I could be called an ambivert. I've always been an extrovert around animals, sometimes had moments of 'me time', but with humans, well...

Do you have any talents? Does eating while reading staying hanged with my head down count? No? Okay, I guess I can count my gymnastics abilities.

Do you have a good memory? Um, sometimes. Sometimes I remember just unimportant details, like what flowers I saw in one particular day and then nothing else, but other times I remember a good portion of the events.

Any fears/phobias? I really really really don't like most loud sounds. People make me shake and sometimes I get nervous around unfamiliar waters. I am not a good swimmer, I got lucky to get used to the ones from my jungle.

What do you have a soft spot for? Flowers, lively colours, baby animals and the soft sun light in the morning.

Any pet peeves? Pollution, ignorance, rudeness, sometimes persistence, how many people treat pets, the word ‘pet’, and the concept of animals not understanding people and being stupid because of that. And being asked many times if I have a crush.

Are you a good student? Yeah, I do not have many problems with learning and tests.

What is your favorite/least favorite subject? I love zoology and botany, but I am not that great in music class.

Family and Relationships.

Who are your parents? Tarzan and Jane Porter.

How would you describe them? Father is a born leader, with a strong sense of justice and a lot of love and compassion for his family and dear friends, but he has his own fun side. He still likes to pull some harmless pranks or just get into competitions, especially with me. Mother is elegant, a true lady, but she loves with a pure heart and does things she would prefer not to daily, like doing some jungle surfing alone from time to time, all for the sake of her loved ones. She likes having tea and sometimes gets a little strict, wants me to be the best, and we might need to talk about some things, but she had been proud of me so far.

Who is your best friend/Who are some of your close friends? We are talking about humans, right? If so, I, um... Iris? It is very hard to understand if you are or not someone’s friend around humans!

What do you look for in a friend? Someone with patience that can make me feel comfortable enough to act natural around them. And I love funny individuals.

In you’re comfortable answering, what is your orientation? Um, I still have not thought much about it. I guess I am putting some other things above it. 

Have you ever been in a relationship? Nope.

Have you ever been in love? With a book or two.

What do you look for in a partner? I have exactly no idea.

Do you believe in love at first sight or soulmates? I do not know so much about love at first sight, but soulmates... Just take a look at my parents and my grandma when she talks about Kerchak.

Do you see getting married and/or having children in the future? Possibly? Maybe with the right person? I just want some friends and sweets right now.

Favorites.

Top 3 books: I do not think that I can make a top, but these are some of my ultimate favourites: “The Da Vinci Code”, “The Chronicles of Narnia”, “How to Kill a Mokingbird”.

Top 3 movies: The Greatest Showman, Some Like It Hot, Paulie.

Top 3 foods: Ice cream, pizza, rice.

#askingdescendantstask #askingdtask001

[daebakinc]

Elision

Pairing: Chanyeol x OC Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff Summary: You take in a down on his luck hybrid, never expecting him to burrow his way into your heart. Word Count: 6.1K          

 The first time you see Chanyeol is in the pub down the street from your apartment on the kind of rainy night that softens the street lights from harsh orange to quiet yellow.

           The Foxy Lady itself is one of those magical places where you always feel at home no matter what part of the world you come from. The kind of place that beckons to you like an old friend to come and sit and rest awhile, to let the world fly by this small corner of comfort. Inside the classic brick exterior, the space is one long, wide room with walls painted an antique green that hit just the right balance of bright and comforting. An old oak bar stretches comfortably along the wall and chairs and tables are scattered around, their surfaces worn to gleaming gold and soft with long and faithful service. A small stage sits in the corner farthest to the door, ready for the any of the city’s musicians willing to accept payment in steady drinks, rich food, and good company. The kitchen, hidden by a wall behind the bar, emits delicious aromas incessantly, sending smells as tempting as a siren’s call onto the street each time the door opens.

           Or perhaps it isn’t the building itself that creates such an ambience. It very well could be the bar’s owners, the inseparable husband and wife duo Jongdae and Sol. Between the two of them and their matching brilliant, teasing personalities, the sun never sets on The Foxy Lady. For reasons unknown, they’d personally taken you under their wing the night after you wandered in, forced out of your new grocery-scarce new apartment by the search for food. As you soon found out, any and all who walked through the door were treated with affable welcome by the stunning husband and wife. Everyone was a friend to Sol and Jongdae.

No one knows Sol’s real name because Jongdae doesn’t call her by anything else but the nickname he gave her, but one smile from her and you’ll forget you even had a question. But that smile always turns a thousand times brighter when she looks at her husband, and Jongdae’s return smile is no less adoring. If the two of them had lived hundreds of years ago, there would still be ballads and poems about the love they share. On your bad days, you’ll admit you’re a little jealous of that kind of bond, having never experienced anything close.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The smile Jongdae sends you when you slide onto one of the unoccupied barstools could win the heart of a stone. “How’s your day been?”

He doesn’t bother asking for your order, already scribbling it on a tab and adding it to the kitchen’s stack before reaching for a glass and filling it with your favorite, an elderflower Italian soda with a crazy straw.

You send him a grateful smile and take a long slurp from the straw as soon as he sets it in front of you. “Semi-productive. Got all my cleaning done for showing off the apartment to potential roommates next week, but then I lapsed and ended up binge watching half the season of The Flash for the rest of the day. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t realize the time and when I did, I decided I was too lazy to cook for myself.”

“You’re anything but lazy. You deserve a break.” Your friend laughs as he bustles about, transferring plates from the kitchen at each ding to a patron or to the server’s station for Jongin or Baekhyun to pick up. “Any promising leads for roommates?”

“No one stellar.” You shrug and sneak a mint leaf from behind the bar to pop in your mouth. “But I only put up the ad last week. Hopefully someone shows up, though Joy will be hard to replace.”

“We’ll find you a roomie just as good. Maybe Sol knows someone.” Jongdae looks over your shoulder as the bells above the door tinkle happily. His smile widens as he raises his hand to wave. “Hey! Glad to see you made it!”

Curious, you shift in your seat to look as well. When you do, you’re suddenly very glad you already swallowed your drink.

The stranger is one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen. Or do you mean cutest? At the moment, you can’t exactly tell. Even in a long tweed overcoat, his body seems to go on forever and the way the light is lets you see the shadows of solid muscles beneath his black turtleneck. His face is handsome as well, half in shadows from a wide brimmed hat pulled low, but his tentative smile, the smile of a child hoping he’ll be welcomed in a new classroom, softens your heart in the same way the sight of a puppy would.

“Hi, Jongdae,” he says, the baritone of his voice like a shot of dark chocolate to your veins. He shifts a guitar bag from one hand to the other with the care of a mother readjusting an infant. You can tell the bag is old, its once black color faded to a grey-green. “Am I on time?”

“You’re an hour early, Chanyeol.” Jongdae wipes his hands and rushes around the bar to engulf the other man in a hug.

You have to stifle a giggle when Chanyeol bends so he can put his arms under Jongdae’s even though he is significantly taller. It makes him look even more childlike.

Jongdae pulls away but keeps a hand on Chanyeol’s back as he brings him further into the room. “Would you like to eat first? We’ve still got awhile before the dinner rush.”

“I’d like to set up and I guess if there’s time, I wouldn’t mind something.”

“Alright. Don’t forget, you don’t have to play the whole night. You can take breaks when you’re hungry or thirsty, okay?” Jongdae’s voice fades into the white noise of other patrons’ chatter as he walks away with Chanyeol, his luxuriant fox tail draped over one arm to keep it out of the way, tapered ears flicking this way and that in merriment.

Your eyes slide away from Jongdae to Baekhyun and Jongin. Jongin’s round, soft umber-colored bear ears twitch slightly as he chats with one of the regulars, while Baekhyun’s ears are floppy like a beagle’s, his tail also cheerily swishing away. Hidden in the kitchen, Kyungsoo probably has his thick wolf’s tail neatly covered and ears tucked under a hat to keep his fur out of the food. Various patrons display the hybrid traits of animal ears and tails out in the open as well. The Foxy Lady is one of the few places you know several feel free enough to do so without fear.

When people started modifying their bodies with animal genes, people thought it was odd but accepted it with eye rolls and quick skitters across the street, labeling it a trend that would fade out. Then these people became parents and passed on the same physical traits to their children. For whatever reason, this was an entirely different matter in the eyes of many. The eye aversions became mutterings, and in the worst cases, the mutterings became violence.

Finally, humane and moral minds won out, leading to the ratification of anti-discrimination laws to protect and guarantee equality for hybrids. The passage of time has brought more societal acceptance of hybrids, but some still have issues finding jobs and housing, let alone decent treatment in certain pockets of the country, and unfortunately, in your city as well. You’ve seen Sol kick out a number of people for snide comments about Jongdae and the others. They got off lucky though; you’d heard a few of their remarks and they warranted a good bloodied nose in your opinion.

           A plate of steaming home fries, buttered asparagus, and sage-rubbed chicken slides beneath your nose. Wearing a yellow T-shirt that makes her dark skin glow even more than usual, Sol winks at you as she pokes your forehead. “You look like you’re thinking about something unpleasant. Need to spill?”

           You shake your head and smile reassuringly. “Nah, it’s nothing.”

           “Well if it is, nothing a little bit of Kyungsoo’s cooking can’t fix, so dig in.”

           “Who’s Chanyeol?” you ask, biting a stalk of asparagus in half and nodding your head in the direction of the stage. “I’ve never seen him before.”

           Even when Sol frowns, she’s beautiful. “Jongdae found him a couple days ago playing on a street corner. Poor thing just came to the city a few weeks ago and still hasn’t found a job. Jongdae convinced him to come here to at least get a good meal in him. The man’s too skinny.”

           Jongdae returns in time to hear the last part of Sol’s comment and grins, pecking her cheek as he scoots past her. “Not all of us can be as thick as your man, you know. Give me a week with him and I’ll have him looking like Pooh.”

           “You leave that to me. What should I fix for him?”

           “He said nothing yet, just wants some hot water with lemon and honey. I think he’s one of those ‘wants to earn his keep’ types.”

           Sol snorts and heads towards the kitchen. “He’ll get it, but he’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s going to play hungry under my roof.”

           When closing time rolls around, you’re still sitting in the same place, nursing your fifth soda. You really had intended to get back to your apartment after you ate to continue cleaning. You really had. But you hadn’t counted on Chanyeol. Jongdae was a generous man, but he wouldn’t have let Chanyeol play if he wasn’t good. The problem for you was Chanyeol wasn’t just good. He was pretty fantastic.

           His deep voice became sinful liquid cocoa as it poured from his mouth through the microphone and into the room. Pair it with the rich honey tones of his guitar he plucked with the ease of hundreds if not thousands of hours of practice, and you were as hooked as a magpie who spotted something shiny.

           Some of the songs he played you knew, but some you didn’t. Given the emotion in his voice, the way he closed his eyes when he sang them, you’d bet good money they were songs he wrote himself. And he played everything, taking shouted requests from patrons, tickling the guitar strings to play American rock one moment and Spanish lullabies the next. A few times you felt your mouth hanging open as you stared. You’d shut it just as quick, but hard as you tried, you just got lost in the music and it’d happen again.

           The light flick of a wet rag on your arm snaps you out of it. Baekhyun snickers and uses the rag to wipe at a spot on the bar. “Alright, kid. We love you, but time’s up. Last call was thirty minutes ago. Some of us got places to go, people to see.”

           “If by places to go, you mean your bed, yeah, you’re right,” you tease.

           “Hey, my bed and I are in a very intimate and adoring relationship,” he retorts. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

           “My deepest apologies.” You glance around.

           You’re the last patron still sitting, the other stragglers pushing through the door into the misting night. Chanyeol is still on the stage, packing away his guitar, head slightly twisted as he speaks with Jongdae. You wonder what they’re talking about and if the tall, talented man will become a regular fixture at the pub. It’d be really nice if he did, you think. For a variety of reasons.

           “Yo, Y/N, you’re not drunk or something are you?” Baekhyun asks, looking concerned at your spacing out. “Jongin and I can give you a lift home.”

           “Sorry, just thinking.” You pat his hand. “I’m totally sober unless you count sleepiness as a form of intoxication.”

           “With some of the places I’ve found Jongin sleeping when he hasn’t had a drop, I might.”

           After a few more minutes of banter and catching up with Baekhyun and Sol, you finally slip off your stool and head towards the door. You notice with a small bit of disappointment Chanyeol is already gone. You’d wanted to compliment him on his performance, but you’ll have to wait until next time, you suppose. Hopefully there’s a next time.

           When you step outside the door, you find that in the time you spent talking, the mist outside had escalated into heavy-drop rain. Not a torrential downpour, but enough to have you looking like a drowned rat by the time you get home.

           With a sigh, you walk to the edge of The Foxy Lady’s canopy and tug up your hood, tying the strings together. Mentally mapping the neighborhood, you figure if you keep to overhangs and sprint between the breaks, you can reach your apartment with minimal soaking.

           You arrive at the street corner with only a few scatterings of rain on your shoulders and head. Your shoes, however, emit sloshing, squishing noises with each step after an unfortunately placed puddle. Looking across the street, your apartment door within view in all its tempting dry socks glory, you brace yourself for the final sprint.

           A sniffle alerts you that you’re not the only person taking shelter in front of the department store. You cautiously glance to your side. A tall figure huddles against the concrete wall, the wet canvas of the overhang touching the top of his hat and drops of water dripping off the brim onto his shoulders. A stuffed brown paper bag with The Foxy Lady’s logo sits beside a beat-up looking bookbag and an old guitar bag. Even in the shadows, you recognize him.

           “Chanyeol?”

           The man jumps like you prodded him with a stick, nearly collapsing.

           “Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” you quickly apologize, throwing your hands up, palms out.

           “Do I know you?” Chanyeol asks. He inches towards the bags as if afraid you’ll snatch them.

           “No. I’m sorry, I’m Y/N. I was at Jongdae’s earlier and I overheard your name. Bad eavesdropping habit. I listened to you play the whole night. You’re really good,” you offer with a tentative smile in case your apology wasn’t enough.

           “Oh. Thanks.” He smiles a little, sending a little flutter through your chest. “You’re a friend of Jongdae’s?”

           “Him and Sol.” You don’t comment on the once over you notice him give you. “They were my first friends here. Are you waiting for a ride? You can wait in my apartment if you like so you’re out of the wet; it’s just over there.”

           Maybe you’re a little crazy offering to let a strange man into your apartment, but Chanyeol looks like a lost puppy and only a heartless person would leave a lost dog in the rain.

           “Um, I’m actually just trying to figure out where to go.”

           “Like directions?”

           “No. I- I, um,” Chanyeol ducks his head and mumbles, “I don’t actually have a place yet. Haven’t found one I can afford, you know. There’s a shelter over on 7th I could go to, but things didn’t go so well last time…”

“The shelter’s that bad?”

“Sometimes.” His tone doesn’t encourage questions about his experience with them.

“Why not call Jongdae?” you ask, knowing he and Sol would let Chanyeol crash on their couch without a second thought.

Chanyeol shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to get in their way and Jongdae already lined up a few gigs for me so I have a some money. I can’t ask him for more than that.”

His eyes move away from you to gaze out on the street. You recognize the defeated slump in his shoulders and the downward set of his mouth. It’s the look of someone who’s talking themselves into going through a repulsive experience because there is no other choice. You’ve made that kind of decision before.

Before you realize it, you make another choice. “Why don’t you stay with me while you get on your feet?”

Chanyeol’s eyes shoot back to you, so comically wide they remind you of Kyungsoo’s. “What?”

“My roommate had to move back home unexpectedly, so I’ve got a free room and month paid for the next two months, so it can be yours if you want it.”

“Really? You really mean it?”

           “Yeah. I have an extra room, you don’t have a room at all. Jongdae trusts you, so I figure you’re a good guy. Not like you’re going to attack me in the middle of the night or something, right?”

           “No. I’ve never hurt anyone intentionally,” he says in a rush.

           “I wouldn’t think so,” you laugh.

           “But you’d really do that for me? A complete stranger?” he asks as if giving you a chance to take your offer back but hoping you won’t.

           Your smile fades a bit, unpleasant memories lurk towards the surface of your mind. “I promised myself once that if I ever met someone as down on their luck as I was at the time and I was in a better position, I’d do what I could to help them.”

           Chanyeol picks at a lose string on his sleeve as he thinks your proposal over. You wait, shuffling your feet so they don’t get cold.

           “You should know something about me first,” Chanyeol says softly. Avoiding your eyes, he slowly reaches up and takes the brim of his hat between his fingers. After a second’s hesitation, he takes it off.

           Two bright wheat gold colored ears perch on the top of his head, pressed against his hair in anticipation of being rejected. If Chanyeol expected you to be surprised, he’d only be half right. You’d had your suspicions given Jongdae’s special attention and how he never took off his coat in the pub despite the heat that came with a room full of warm bodies.

           “They’re very pretty,” you say.

           Chanyeol lifts his eyes, his fingers stilling from crumpling his hat. You can read the shock there and want to hunt down whoever put that fear and expectation in his head. You also want to hug Chanyeol, to take away some of that hurt, but you’re afraid that may be too much for the poor man just yet.

           When he doesn’t move, you walk over and shoulder his bookbag. The lightness of it makes you feel worse for him, but you mask it quickly. You hate being pitied.

           Instead, you tell him, “Grab your other stuff and we’ll make a run for it, okay? It’s the brown door, right beside the lamppost.”

           Clearly in a daze, Chanyeol picks up his guitar and bag of food, and runs after you across the street, up the stairs to your apartment, and into your life.

           The first time you kiss Chanyeol is on your couch on a warm spring Sunday afternoon made for new beginnings.

           All is quiet when you return from the grocery store, the only sounds drifting inside from the open living room window. Birds chirp as they industriously build a nest on the outcrop of the building roof, cars hum and chortle as they pass below. Spices from the Lebanese restaurant down the street and sugar from Kyungsoo’s Sunday pies at The Foxy Lady mix with the half-pot of coffee you made earlier.

           The grocery bags crinkle loudly on your arm as you step around the pile of shoes in the entryway. Your flats and boots a tumbled mess with Chanyeol’s sneakers and loafers in a cozy, domestic scene that makes you smile.

           That night you let Chanyeol sleep on your couch, you hadn’t expected he’d stay long. Every day he went out looking for work, only to return empty handed. But he never showed his disappointment, shrugging it off with an addictively wide smile and promising to try again the next day so he could start supporting himself. Chanyeol insisted on earning his keep by fixing things around the apartment and occasionally cooking despite your protests that he didn’t need to do anything.

A week turned into a month, a month into two, two months into just over half a year. After Chanyeol found a job at a music store run by Jihoon, a lemur hybrid, it made sense for him to just stay. Your apartment was already home.

           You like having Chanyeol around. He always makes you smile. Every day you come home, he greets you with perked ears and feathery tail wagging. He listens to you talk about your day, sportingly joining in your complaining even though he has no idea what you were talking about or celebrating with you on a raise or just a plain old good day. Then there’s the music.

           There was always music in the apartment with Chanyeol. Every day is an auditory adventure. He has some favorite songs you’ve learned to love too, but otherwise there’s always something different playing. Classic rock, house electronic, acoustic ballads, bubblegum pop. You name the genre, Chanyeol plays it. Your favorite days are the ones the music is Chanyeol’s own.

You’ll bundle yourself into a blanket burrito and sit on his bed to listen to the new songs he composes and records on an old computer. If you are really lucky, Chanyeol plays the songs for you himself on one of his guitars. You’d bought him a new one for his birthday, and he collected broken guitars to fix from work. There’s at least one in every room, even the bathroom for some reason.

By the time you put the groceries down, Chanyeol is still nowhere in sight, but bits of him are spread throughout the apartment.

           The Ironman cookie jar you bought for him at the same secondhand store he bought his bed and desk. The black hoodie haphazardly laying across the back of the couch because although it’s his, you wear it just as often. The cheap neon yellow picture frame he won at a carnival last summer, a picture of the two of you from that same night inside, both wearing matching grins and arms around each other.

           Your eyes slide to Chanyeol’s still closed door. It’s not abnormal for him to sleep late on a weekend off, but after last night, you’re worried.

           It began innocently enough. Dinner out at The Foxy Lady because it was board night, an hours long board-game competition Sol held at the end of every month. You lost horribly to Chanyeol at Sorry in round three, but you had your revenge when Baekhyun beat him at one of the most intense Bananagrams games you’ve ever seen, spectators loudly cheering for their chosen side until they were drowned out by Chanyeol’s agonized losing howl and Baekhyun’s ecstatic victory yips.

           Chanyeol was still sulking when you left, fluffy tail dragging on the ground. “I still say ‘quartzy’ can’t be a real word,” he muttered as he held the door open for you.

           “Jongdae found it in the dictionary, Chanyeol,” you reminded him gently.

           Your friend snorted before looking at you intently. “You’re going to help me practice for next month, right? Like every day. Next time, I’ll be the champion.”

           “We’ll see.”

           “Come on, Y/N,” he whined. He threw an arm around your shoulders and hugged you to his side. “Please? Pretty pretty please with a strawberry on top?”

           You cursed your heart for still beating faster and your nose for wanting to bury itself in his chest. You buried your feelings for Chanyeol a long time ago when your friendship became one you couldn’t live without. But you’re only human and they sometimes pop through. You suspected deep down that they were the reason your dates rarely got a second chance.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a cherry?” you asked wryly.

           “But you don’t like cherries. You like strawberries,” he replied, grinning down at you.

           “Fine, I’ll help. Can you just slow down a bit? I feel like I’m being decapitated.”

           “Oh, sorry.”

Chanyeol shortened his stride to match yours, but kept his arm in place, his hand curled around your arm in easy familiarity. The gesture was almost brotherly in nature and while it wasn’t exactly what you truly wanted, you love physical contact as much as the hybrid beside you.

As you walked past a group of men standing at the street corner and smoking cigarettes, an anonymous voice not so quietly sneered, “Freak.”

The rhythm of Chanyeol’s wagging tail skipped a beat and you felt his body stiffen beside you.

Your temper flared. It had taken a long time for you and the others at The Foxy Lady to help convince Chanyeol being a hybrid was nothing to be ashamed of with as many setbacks as leaps forward. You weren’t about to take some random asshole thinking he was being funny and better by insulting your friend.

You slipped out from Chanyeol’s arm, ignoring his soft murmur of your name to march back to the group of men. “Which one of you said that?”

“What’s it to you, sweetheart?” one of them asked. He sent you a smile you supposed he thought was charming. “Why don’t you lose the mutant and come home with me?”

“The only freak here is you, jackoff,” you hissed. You stepped close enough that discomfort flashed across his face. “You think you’re a big badass man calling another human a derogatory name? Newsflash, you’re not!”

You pointed at Chanyeol who still stood frozen where you left him. “That man is better than you’ll ever be in every single way. Every way, you hear me? All you’re doing by insulting him is proving you’re the subhuman piece of trash who thinks just because someone’s different, that makes them unworthy of common decency and respect. Go home and pick up a damn book so your brain might grow enough to be a human’s.”

For good measure, you plucked the cigarette from his hand and stomped it into the cement before tramping back to Chanyeol.

“Hey, bitch!”

Heavy footsteps came behind you, a hand roughly grabbing your shoulder to spin you around. A raised hand caught the streetlight. Heart stopping, you screwed your eyes shut and brace yourself.

The expected smack never came, a strangled cry sounding instead.

You opened your eyes to Chanyeol’s back. His tail stuck straight out, stiff and unmoving. Peeking around him, you saw your would-be assailant on his knees with Chanyeol’s hand clenched around his wrist.

“Touch her,” Chanyeol growled, the veins in his arm straining against as he tightened his grip, “and I will make sure you regret it.”

Chanyeol waited until the man gave a weak nod, then tossed him aside. He turned away, pausing when his eyes met yours.

An anger hotter than you thought your friend capable of was fading to embers, replaced but another emotion you could not place. When he didn’t move, you grabbed his hand and towed him along behind you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chanyeol whispered when you got to the apartment door.

You took a deep breath, so your voice and face were calm when you turned around. Meeting his eyes, you said, “Yes, Chanyeol. I did.”

You hadn’t spoken really after that, both going to your own rooms to mull over your own thoughts. You don’t regret standing up for Chanyeol, but you’re worried you made him uncomfortable.

Tiptoeing to his door, you press your ear against it. There’s not a sound except the soft piano Chanyeol plays to help him sleep. You open the door wide enough to slip inside.

The only thing you can see of Chanyeol is the top of his head, dark hair contrasting with his white blanket and pillow. Carefully, you ease yourself down on the bed beside him and drag the covers away from his face. His Rilakkuma doll is still tucked safely in his arms, squished against his cheek.

Affection rises in your chest, tickling your mouth into a smile. “Chanyeol,” you murmur, reaching out to card his mussed hair.

He grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t open his eyes.

Your fingers continue combing his hair, working their way up to one of his ears. You rub the silky fur between your fingers. The gesture is as much for your pleasure as his. A moan rumbles from deep within Chanyeol’s chest and he leans his head into your touch.

His gaze is blurry with sleep when he opens his eyes, but they quickly focus on your face. He smiles. “Morning,” he mumbles, voice deeper than normal with sleep.

“Try afternoon,” you chuckle. You can’t bring yourself to reclaim your fingers as Chanyeol props himself, and continue to ruffle his hair and ears. “I got everything to make your favorite for lunch if you’re hungry. Tonkatsu.”

His smile immediately grows. “You’re the best, Y/N. I’ll help.”

When he grabs the blankets to toss them back and get up, you put a hand on his chest. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got it. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll get you when it’s ready. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Alright? Why wouldn’t I-” His confused expression falls into a frown. “Oh.”

“The guy was being a dick to compensate for his not having a satisfactory one, you know. You are not a freak.”

“I know.”

“Good. I’d do it all again, Chanyeol, and I meant every word. You are incredibly important to me.”

You gaze into his eyes, trying to make sure he knows how sincere you are. The plan backfires. You’re suddenly far too aware of him. The depth of his chocolate eyes with golden flecks reflecting the sunlight. The smell of his cologne saturating the blankets, the room. The heavy beat of his heart beneath your hand on the firm muscle of his chest.

Snatching your hand and mind back, you smile and hope Chanyeol didn’t notice the growing charge. “I’ll get you when it’s ready, okay? Go back to sleep.”

Because you need to prove to yourself you’re in control, you lean down to kiss his forehead just as he shifts his body upward, saying “It’s okay, I’ll help.”

Your lips hit his lips instead of his skin. The contact lasts a second, but it leaves both of you frozen, staring at each other.

You scramble for an apology, the power to laugh it off, anything but the silence.

Chanyeol’s eyes flick from yours to your mouth. You have no other warning before his hand shoots up to cup your jaw and drag your lips back to his.

Chanyeol is kissing you. Chanyeol is kissing you. That’s all you manage to think before your body takes over. It sinks against him, seeking his scent, his taste. A high whimper of desire fills your throat as his mouth moves against yours, soft but starved. Kissing him is all you imagined but better. So much better.

With a gasp, Chanyeol pulls away, his hand staying in place, hot against your skin. His chest presses against yours with each pant. “I- I’m- uh…” he blinks several times. “I..”

You surge forward, kissing him again, and draw back just enough so your noses brush. With your eyes closed, you whisper, “You better not be about to say, ‘I’m sorry.’”

“Okay,” you feel him wet his lips, “I was going to say… I’m, um, surprised?”

“You’re surprised? You’re the one who kissed me on purpose first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Chanyeol laughs and falls back onto his pillow, a hand over his eyes. He peeks between his fingers. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” You swing your legs up and lie down on your side next to him. “Is that something you’ve been wanting to do for a while?”

“Kinda.”

“Since when?”

“Since that night a few months ago when you fell asleep on me while we were watching El Dorado.”

You remember that night. A little. El Dorado was one of your favorite movies and Chanyeol was a quick convert. But it had been a long week, and one moment you were watching Chel seducing Tulio, and the next you rolling over in bed to sunlight peeking through the window. You thought you’d just walked yourself to your room in a stupor, but maybe not.

“I didn’t even notice you were asleep until your head hit my shoulder,” Chanyeol continues. He glances up at you, then away with a gentle smile. When he speaks, there are many little pauses, as if he’s lost in his own memory and has to savor it. “Then I looked down and… I don’t know. It was like I was seeing you for the first time. I couldn’t breathe. You were soft and perfect and beautiful. Your lips had this little pout, like you were upset at yourself for falling asleep during your favorite movie. All I wanted to do was kiss it away, but…. I didn’t. I just picked you up and tucked you into your bed.”

“And didn’t say anything after?”

“You’d just broken up with what’s-his-name, the freakishly tall one obsessed with Harry Potter. I’m not a jerk.”

“Seungjun. And he was the same height as you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol shrugs it off.

“Would it freak you if I said I started liking you that first night at The Foxy Lady?” You chuckle at his dropped jaw and perked ears. You close his mouth with a finger. “You were super cute and talented; can you blame me?”

“Do you still think I’m super cute and talented?” he asks, glancing at you through his eyelashes with a teasing smile. He whines when you smack his shoulder.

“What do you think? I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol laughs and flips onto his side as well. His eyes roam your face and his voice lowers. “Yeah, you did.”

           “What?” you ask when the corner of his mouth twitches.

           “I’m just now remembering something Sol said.”

           “And what did Sol say?”

           “She caught me watching you one night and you know her. She got everything out of me. When I told her I wasn’t going to say anything, she told me impossible things have a way of happening anyway. Guess she was right.”

           “Sol’s always right,” you giggle. “I’m really glad this wasn’t her exception.”

           “Me too. So… why didn’t you say anything?”

           “Well, at first it was because I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to take advantage of you or something and you were still getting your life together; you didn’t need a relationship to complicate that even more. Then, I just didn’t want to risk losing you.” It’s a relief to get it all out, like a flood finally released from a dam.

           “I didn’t want to lose you either. You’re one of my best friends.” Chanyeol tentatively reaches out to outline your face with a finger. “Guess I’m lucky I’m in love with my best friend.”

           “Lucky by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat.”

           He laughs and tugs you into his arms, rubbing his cheek against your hair. Your hands slide behind his back and curl up to his shoulders, your leg hooking around Chanyeol’s hip to bring him closer. His tail brushes your calf as it gleefully thumps against the mattress.

           “You remembered,” he says.

           “You only play it like every other day,” you retort.

           “I do not.”

           “Okay, maybe it’s one of my favorites to hear you play then.”

           “I’ll play it every single day if you want.”

           Laughing and shaking your head, you wiggle enough to tilt your head back and look at his face. “You could play anything and I’d love it.”

           “Anything? Even ‘It’s a Small World’?” Chanyeol grins playfully and squeezes you. He starts singing, “It’s a small world after all, it’s-”

           His voice goes immediately silent when you press your lips against his again. But you become as lost in the kiss as he is, the leisurely rhythm of it more addictive than any song you’ve heard. Pressed against his warmth, sinking into it. When you sluggishly pull away, his eyes are still closed, mouth slightly parted.

           “Any song but that one,” you whisper lightly.

           Chanyeol’s lips slowly curve in a smile and his eyes open at the same speed like a lazy dog waking up from a nap in the sunshine. His fingers tap a beat against your spine. “I think one’s coming to me right now. If I’d known kissing you would be conducive to my composing, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

           “Then kiss me again.”

           Chanyeol is humming when your lips meet again, some melody that’s new and exciting and somehow, it’s already your new favorite song.

#chanyeol scenario #exo scenarios #kpopwritingnet #boygroupwritersnet #kpop scenarios #chanyeol #exo #exo k #park chanyeol

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 13

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because convince Ethri not to abandon plot, goooo!

Last times in book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis and it is not going great so far? Maudra Ethri has decided that the Sifa are going to ditch and sail to a new continent guided by Captain skekSa, multi-talented voluntary exile from the Castle of the Crystal. Ethri tries to ditch early but Amri and co catch up to her and Onica convinces her to read the flames and see what they have to say.

Chapter 13

A very convincing flame-reading, a new objective, some frustration

So now its time to throw some herbs in a fire and read the flames to see what the Sifa should do. Every other sign in the world says sailing across the ocean is a bad idea. skekSa says ‘its fiiiiiiiiiine.’ What will the flames say?

Onica took her own bundle from within her cloak. She and Tae followed Ethri, and soon three blue-gray trails of smoke cut like pathways into the sky. Onica led them in the ritual, raising her hands over her head and drawing mystic symbols in the air with the smoke of the smoldering herbs. Triangles and spheres, spirals and many other shapes. Amri saw the signs of the moons and the suns, the sigils of the wind and fire, earth and rain. Ethri and Tae mirrored Onica, the maudra’s motions reserved at first but warming with every passing moment.

“Deatea. Deratea. Kidakida. Arugaru. We open our souls to the fire. We open our minds to the wind. We open our hearts to the water. We open our hands to the earth.”

The bundles of herbs are thrown into the fire and there’s a blast of heat that blows away the smoke just leaving clear flames.

Within moments, the hearth beat again. The hearth of the ship, the heart of the Sifa.

Nice play on words!

Everyone around the fire breathes in the scent of the herbs and hold hands. It sounds like a pretty cool moment.

Onica’s voice rose from the quiet, one with the crackling fire. She did not speak words. The song from her throat was wordless, harmonious. Amri opened one eye to see her, head tilted back, crimson hair alight with the red of the fire. Her song changed, as if she herself were transformed - one moment a Sifa, Gelfing as the rest of them - the next, a different being, made of dreams.

She bowed her head to face the fire, eyes open, seeing all and nothing. All were silent.

“A hero stands before the hearth fire of the Gelfling. But not alone. From the darkness that surrounds him comes... Wind. Lightning. Light. Earth, Shadow, Water... Fire.”

Onica’s brows crinkled in pain, a tear escaping. Her voice was transparent, rippling, not her own. Amri listened, rapt. Saw Ethri and Tae, Naia and Kylan doing the same, every breath hanging on the Far-Dreamer’s words.

“Great trials face us. Pain and loneliness, I see... Seven maudra. Seven of seven. Bearing the fires. Wind, Lightning, Light. Earth, Shadow, Water, Fire. In this way, the Seven become One. By Gelfling hand, or else by...”

Not even going to finish the rhyme? Man, Thra prophecies love the or else by none thing, huh?

And the seven Gelfling clans have elemental associations, apparently. Grottan for Shadow seems obvious. As does Sifa for Water. Or are they Wind with the Drenchen being Water? Are the Vapra Wind or Light? I’m pretty sure the Stonewood are Fire despite their name evoking Earth so much. And what about the Dousan? Are they Lightning?

Some of the clans feel like they’d overlap several elements but this is symbolic, not wholly accurate.

My guess is Drenchen Water, Spriton Earth, Stonewood Fire, Grottan Shadow, Vapra Light, Sifa Wind, and Dousan Lightning.

The Gelfling at the hearth fire also see a vision of the Sifa hearth struggling to push back the darkness until Gelfling come with torches and increase the hearth’s flame.

With an obvious meaning.

“My Sifa,” [Ethri] said. “My heart breaks with grief that I nearly let you down. Forgive me... I will stay, if you will stay by my side. So that we may stay by the side of the others who stand against the darkness. For Thra.”

Tae lifted her hand to the sky, Ethri’s fingers entwined in hers.

“For Thra,” she said.

All at once, the hands of the Sifa rose like wildfire.

A pillar of flame exploded from the hearth, sparks showering in a rainbow of colors. The fire burned in every color under the three suns, the whistling and howling of the air as it fed the flames resonating with a familiar, bone-deep song.

Kylan’s firca joins this song all on its own and dream-etches the Story Thus Far of Ethri, the Omerya, and skekSa’s ship into the deck.

The pyrotechnics end and Ethri has the Omerya return to the docks.

To Amri, Ethri finally looks like her two halves have been united. The youthful person that she is and the proud and valiant maudra leading her clan.

Also, look at that, two made one symbolism. It recurs.

Maudra Ethri tells Team Naia that when the time to rise up comes, the Sifa will be ready and asks where they’ll go next. That’s still up in the air.

And Naia reassures, kinda, Ethri that despite her fears of being the first to stand up, that the Vapra fire is already lit by All-Maudra Mayrin. And that neither were the first to stand up.

“You know, Maudra Argot of the Grottan was actually the first to hear our story and believe. And because of it, they were struck down. They lost their home. They’ve been in the dark and cold, alone. Waiting to know the other clans are out there.. and now, you are part of their hope. Your fires will guide them... You are not alone, and now, neither are they.”

As Team Naia leaves the Omerya, Amri realizes that somewhere under the waves there’s a skekSa who will soon realize that the Sifa have changed their travel plans. And he wonders if she’s going to be very angry or whether it won’t matter to her one way or another.

I suspect that he’s very glad that he isn’t the one who has to deal with that fallout!

The group goes to say goodbye to Onica, assuming she’ll stay in Cera-Na.

“I must go with Naia,” [Tavra] said. “But I will not forget our promise --”

Onica interrupted her with a sweet laugh. “Don’t be daft, my Silverling. You think I would let you go to light the seven fires of resistance without me?”

Awwwww (girl)frens!

Annnnd thennnn. Someone steals Tavra. Just bumps into the group and swipes her right from Kylan.

Geez, this was a feel good moment of the Sifa deciding to stay and Onica becoming a permanent party member and some random pickpocket ruins it!

“Why would someone steal Tavra?” Naia asked.

“I don’t know! She’s tiny, and shiny? You know, we never did figure out where Tae’s stolen jewelry went!”

Dang, I can’t believe I forgot that too!

The narration made a point that it was A Thing Occurring and then the explanation for Tae’s poisoning didn’t explain what happened to Tae’s jewelry.

I briefly wondered if maybe skekSa swiped it out of magpie kleptomania and that’s how the gang would turn the Sifa against her but that didn’t make much sense for skekSa’s character really. And then things got resolved with Ethri REALLY fast so it just slipped from my mind.

Team Naia plus Onica minus Tavra chase the thief off the beach and into the tropical brush between the beach and mountains.

Amri catches up to the thief first because of his great climbing prowess and tackles the hooded thief.

They rolled to the ground and wrestled until Amri came out on top, yanking back the hood. Beneath was the tattooed face of a Dousan boy. His face was pale and sand colored on the left, fading into a deep, glittering indigo on the right.

The Dousan bonks Amri with a rock but Naia catches him.

They get the jar full o’ Tavra and she reveals that the thief has Tae’s jewelry too, which ties up that mystery.

Naia stepped back, now that she had Tavra.

“So, what? You’ve just been sneaking about Cera-Na filling your pockets. What do you have to say for yourself?”

He shrugged. “It was worth it?”

Pffft

Naia is less amused by him than I am and drags him off to turn him over to Maudra Ethri.

So the Dousan changes gears, and introduces himself as Periss and says that he overheard the stuff about the seven fires of resistance and has seen the dream-stitched pink petals.

So he figures that they’re going around trying to unite the clans. And that they arrived on a sea ship that sails in the sea with sails. So Periss has a question.

“So... how are you planning on reaching the Dousan clan in the Crystal Sea? Without a, you know. A sandship, and a Dousan to sail it.”

Amri hated the smug tinkle in Periss’s eyes.

What a character, this Periss!

He’s a lot more of a shit than Rek’yr.

Tavra concedes that the little shit has a point. You can’t cross the Crystal Sea without a sandship and even if you did, out of Naia-esque stubbornness, finding the Dousan would be a hell of a challenge because they’re nomadic.

Amri looked up at the Claw Mountains that rose south of Cera-Na’s sandy shore. He had never seen the Crystal Sea in person, of course, but he’d seen maps and drawings. On the other side of the Claw Mountains spilled a vast desert of golden and white sand. The desert sprawled southeast, stopping only when its waves of sand lapped the border of the Dark Wood. Between the Claw Mountains and the Dark Wood, it was a world of light and constantly changing terrain. Desert creatures roamed the dunes. It was somewhere out there, navigating the constant storms, that the Dousan Gelfling had made their home.

“I think Tavra may be right,” Amri said.

Periss’s hands had drifted from the air to his belt, his expression of surrender transforming into a pompous smile.

What a little shit!

So now that they’re not going to turn him over to Maudra Ethri because they need him and now that he’s feeling smug about it, he presses the advantage and brings up the question of payment.

“We’re not paying you,” Naia retorted. “Your reward for helping us is knowing you took part in saving the Gelfling race.”

“I’m afraid good feelings don’t make my heart as full as a pocket of pretties. So, show me what you have to give, and I will tell you if you’ve come up short.”

Wow!

Takes guts to charge to help save the world but y’know, if they save the world then he has the payment. If they don’t save the world then it doesn’t make a difference whether he charged or not. Its win-win, of a sort.

Periss winds up taking Naia’s sweet metal dagger and Kylan’s bone firca as payment. Also, Onica has to read his fortune. For those three things, he’ll be their guide and transport as long as it takes to find Maudra Seethi and the Dousan.

Doesn’t seem fair. The firca is an irreplaceable magic item and the knife has sentimental value. Buuuuut they do need to visit the Dousan. They’re the only ones that haven’t been touched on yet.

The Dousan gestured with a broad smile.

“Congratulations, my friends. You’ve just bought yourselves a one-way trip into the desert of death.”

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #liveblog #Tides of the Dark Crystal #Amri #Naia #Kylan #Tavra #Onica #Maudra Ethri #Periss

[lightningnose]

what do you all think of each other and each other's clans? (for all main muses)

Batwhisker: Don’t mind if I go first! Ok, let’s see. -Redclaw is pretty cool. I like how devoted she is to Bramblingfoot and Gingerface, though she is one of the cats I would least like to get into a fight with! Doesn’t matter that she’s an Elder, she’s still one of the most muscular cats in all of WindClan! Which isn’t much, I know, the bunch of -foot cats they are… But still! -I don’t know much about Dawnfoot. He’s pretty shy from what I’ve seen, but I like the gentle toms more than the aggressive ones, so that’s totally fine by me! Though I do wish he spoke up more. As for WindClan, well, like, I find their big emphasis on family and community a bit confusing, but props to any Clan of mostly short-furred, lanky cats that can survive on those moors even in leaf-bare! -Maplewhisker! Hah, well. I mean, any -whisker already gets commendations from me for mastering what I consider the most valuable skill in all the Clans alongside -flower. I mean, without -whisker cats, the Clans would be in really rough spots during the worst of seasons! And of course it’s -flower cats – or cats with a bit of -flower to them, like all Queens because they are vicious if their babies are threatened! – who instil values in the -whiskers of the future. Oh, but she’s a bit too serious for my liking. -Foxflower, well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t admire her. It’s like she’s done everything! She had an awesome Mentor – Beetlenose, who walks with StarClan and who actually looks a lot like me, maybe my daddy was her brother Weevilnose? – who helped her get over her fears, she has a bunch of friends and is super respected among all four Clans, she has a mate and four adopted Kits and four blood Kits – eight Kits in total! – and she became Deputy! The only thing she hasn’t done is Mentor anybody, but that’s because she’s so involved in the Nursery she’s like a parent to everybody! Meanwhile I’m still waiting for my first Apprentice…or for Daffodilfur to get his head out of the dirt and notice the hints I’ve been sending him about my interest in him… Seriously, like, is he totally blind to flirting?! -Ratleaf is a -leaf, and that’s pretty cool. Ok, so, thinking about it, I would say -leaf is up there with -flower and -whisker. Since like, it’s the -leaf cats who make the most medicinal innovations and stuff to help the Clan, and that’s super. And he was a great Mentor to Cloverclaw, who Adderclaw really likes. As for RiverClan, well, ThunderClan and RiverClan fight over Sunningrocks a lot. I think we’ve both lost a fair few Leaders to those rocks. But I mean, those rocks do have lots of good prey and herbs on them… But I do like their guts to swim so often! I hate the water myself, but kudos to them!-Blizzardfur… I guess he’s a case of, like, well, ok. He’s a lot like me. We’re both spunky and cool cats and all that, but I don’t know, he kinda annoys me? He talks so much, and I guess it’s true that if you put two magpies together they’ll move away from each other because they can’t stand the other one always interrupting. So I guess it’s like that? So yeah. He’s a good cat but not one I personally like. -Barleycloud… I don’t really know too much about her, to be honest. I guess she’s super calm from what I’ve heard, and it’s in her suffix, so kudos for that? And she had Kits she’s super proud of. So cool momma! As for ShadowClan, well we kind of fight with them a lot too, but I totally admire their adaptability when it comes to thriving on what little land they have. Plus they night hunt a lot, like me! -Shrewstar! Well he was Leader of ThunderClan a while back, so I gotta give the guy props for that. We aren’t always an easy Clan to lead, since so many of us seem to have bright ideas about how Clan life should work! It’s like it’s part of our culture to always want to do things our way. But his death was hilarious, and I’m not sorry to say it. He died because of a shrew! Indirectly, but it’s still hilarious! Oh, and ThunderClan is totally the best Clan ever. Because we’re the heroes~ Like, we take in lots of lonely kittypets and such, so we’re heroes to them!

Shrewstar: Thank you Batwhisker… Ok, so, I guess I’ll go next. -Batwhisker. No one can fault her hunting prowess. Night hunters are valuable, since plenty of prey tries to hide away and be active during the night. Though I do wish she was a tad less loud and brash… She is very much like a magpie, at least in loudness. Good grief… Though I’m very proud of ThunderClan. It’s my home! -Redclaw. I commend her battle prowess; considering how lanky most of her Clanmates (and thus typical training partners) are, it’s amazing how she – in her prime at least, but don’t tell her I said that! – could go toe to toe with even the best ThunderClan -claw and if not win as a result of tag teaming or even just trumping them before they knew what was happening, then give them solid scars to remember her by. I haven’t seen her fight recently, but I don’t doubt she could do that again if she really wanted to! I find stories of her cackle-offs to be hilarious. -Dawnfoot, well, I feel for the guy. He’s more the genial good-doer like me, and those kinds of cats can easily get steamrolled by cats like Batwhisker or Blizzardfur. And hey, I always have admired any cat who earns a skill suffix. There’s just something about the work that goes into it that really appeals to me… As for WindClan, I admire their speed. It seems like all of them run so well and so skillfully! Oh, but I don’t know how they live on such cold moors. -Maplewhisker is kind of scary. I do think her as Maplestar would've been interesting one way or another, but even without she’s done a marvellous job of sticking around in the memories of the living. Her and Tigerflower and Snowclaw and the Kits… But I admire her hunting prowess. I was always too clumsy to even get close to earning -fang or -whisker! It shows in my death…-Foxflower. Now, if I admire the ones who earn a skill suffix, I really admire the ones who qualify for more than one and earn the right to choose which they’d rather. She’s shaping up to be a fine Deputy, she’ll live on in memory for some time to come no matter when or how she dies. And if she ends as Foxstar, RiverClan won’t be worse off for it. I do think it’s funny how she’s descended from Foxstar who was Foxstep. -Ratleaf. Ok, of all of the skill suffixes, I think -leaf is the most amazing, since it’s so rare and really requires a level of commitment that you just don’t find in every generation. So big props there. He walks a fine line between serious and approachable, so I have to give him credit for that. But he is quite serious, and I don’t really get on well with serious cats since I’m so easy going and I’m always afraid they think I’m too Kit-like! As for RiverClan, well, we’ve fought with them loads. But I admire their balance of individuality and community thinking. Sometimes I feel ThunderClan, ShadowClan, and WindClan go to extremes with one or the other. -Blizzardfur scares me. He’s kinda lanky for a ShadowClan cat, but he’s still bigger than I am, and he’s so forceful! I swear he might run me over one day, even if I was Leader of ThunderClan for a while! Though I do admire his hardiness in earning his retirement. -Barleycloud is sweet. I love chatting with her; she’s got an amazing memory for Clan history, and that kind of memory really does impress me. She never earned a skill suffix, but she does her best for those around her and that’s good enough for me. She reminds me of my mommy, actually; my mommy was a -cloud, too. Ruddcloud. Though I’m a bit scared of the dark, so I don’t like ShadowClan territory much… But I admire their versatility and determination to thrive as much as possible.

Barleycloud: Thank you kindly for the sweet comparison, Shrewstar! I’ve met Ruddcloud, and she’s quite sweet. To be compared to her is an honour. -Shrewstar is very gentle and kind. I’ve always admired the gentle Leaders more than the stern ones, because it’s especially easier for the little ones to connect to a new Leader if they’re kind. And of course the support of the new ones is important, because they will one day be the body of Warriors and perhaps a new Medicine Cat or two who that Leader will depend on in the future. -Batwhisker is very much like Blizzardfur, and they both rub me the wrong way a bit. I strongly admire her prowess at hunting at night, no doubt she’d have fit in well in ShadowClan. But I think her cocky attitude might come back to bite her in the future, and I do worry about that. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Daffodilfur feared approaching her romantically out of concern that her interest in him is only fleeting, since she seems to hop after adventure and thrills the same way a magpie searches for shiny things, and he may well fear that he wouldn’t be able to keep her interest for as long as he may wish. In regards to ThunderClan as a whole, oh, I do hate making such generalizations. I think I’ll opt out of commenting on the Clans; I’d hate to assume incorrectly because of lack of knowledge about how things work in the other Clans!-Redclaw is very strong, and a fine mother, but also a bit of a hypocrite. She takes poorly to -heart-type cats and yet can be said to be a -heart-type herself. Regardless, I haven’t interacted with her too much, so I don’t think there’s too much more to say. -I’ve spoken with Dawnfoot much more. He’s sweet and gentle and very much a cat his parents can be proud of, especially since -foot is so very prestigious among WindClan. I do worry for him, because he’s the kind who may be easily taken advantage of, but doesn’t everyone worry for everyone? It is our culture, after all, to care for those around us. -I may not know Foxflower personally, but her reputation precedes her and it is certainly a strong one. Her temper, I think, is a weak point for her. She can get exceedingly worked up if a Kit is in danger, and has no qualms about giving you a clawing to the face if she feels you’re overstepping your boundaries. Though she does her best to be productive with her anger, in that she doesn’t just sit and sulk but instead actively tries to use her anger as fuel to action. She’s a good Deputy, and then, what -flower isn’t at least a bit prickly about Kits and their well-being? -Maplewhisker has a poor attitude, I think, when it comes to Kits. Of course I understand why, given that particular incident, and she was remarkably steadfast and loyal as Deputy. I admire the fact that she never outright banned the Kits from approaching her, even if she disliked them. Also, she was a fine Mentor to all three of her former Apprentices. Even if her temper is something to be wary of, she earned her ranking as Deputy. -Ratleaf is a cat to be commended. I think all Medicine Cats are truly the support system, the trunk or stem if you will, of all Clans. All Medicine Cats ought to be honoured for the sacrifices they make in having a job that never truly ends. After all, they don’t ever really retire. The ones who earn -leaf are especially dedicated, and Clans are always thankful to have Medicine Cats. -Blizzardfur rubs me the wrong way. He’s so in your face that I fear his self esteem never gets better because he perceives what others think of his force, and he doesn’t like it. He’s very hardy and did well to earn his retirement after moons of service, but he and I don’t talk much. I imagine it’s for the better.

Blizzardfur: Barleycloud, you don’t talk enough! So there, we’re even. -But I will admit Barleycloud has a good head on her shoulders. Way less prone to drama fits than I am! Every Clan needs calm cats, even if lots of them don’t talk nearly enough for my taste. ShadowClan is the best Clan, because we thrive on the least amount of territory and prey. WindClan might be freezing cold once every four seasons, but at least they’ve got plenty of prey! Speaking of WindClan…-I like Redclaw. She’s got a good voice and is great at cackling. Plus she lets me talk about myself whenever I decide to visit her and the other Elders in their dreams. She’s also super tough, lucky rat making it to Elder and still being so tough tough tough as one. -Dawnfoot doesn’t talk enough. He’s got a spine, but not a thick enough skin. Though I suppose a thick enough skin would make him a worse runner, so… At least he’s got a good heart. WindClan is freezing cold once every few seasons. I’ll pass on that, thanks!-Batwhisker talks too much. She’s got spunk, but I don’t get why she’s moping over Daffodilfur. Just have Kits by, like, a couple of one night stands or something to get him jealous! -Shrewstar is a Leader, so he’s cool and all, but he’s way too gentle! And haha, he died because of a shrew! ThunderClan are annoying over all. They think they’re always right. -Foxflower, well, I don’t see what’s so great about her. Yeah she’s done all of this amazing stuff and she’s Deputy, but she’s pretty boring. She’s so obsessed with Kits and being a good role model for them. Seriously, she’s got eight of them basically all to herself! She just keeps taking them in, it’s like Riverstar is making them rain for her! -Maplewhisker has awesome guts, and I like her determination to do what she likes, but I think she’s a bit too soft on Waxkit. What does he have that the other Kits don’t? Her blood? What of it? He’s also got the blood of a lazy brat who walks like he’s got a stick permanently wedged up so far up his rear end he can taste it! It’s a wonder he knows how to fight at all! -Ratleaf is boring. He obsesses over herbs and prophesies and all that mumbo jumbo. Reminds me too much of my brother. But hey, kudos to him for getting a super rare suffix…RiverClan swims, like some of us do, so cheers for shared traits! But they’re a bit too obsessed with the river. Like, Riverstar came by it, who cares? Why not focus on the current best swimmers?

Ratleaf: The current is not more important than the source, neither is the source more important than the current. -Blizzardfur is to be commended for his hardiness; however, I pity his lack of self confidence. I’ve suggested for him to seek help in that matter, but he refuses and so all I can do is observe. -Barleycloud is to be commended for her incredibly kind heart; however, I feel she is a tad too submissive at times. Like Barleycloud, I will refrain from commenting on the Clans as a whole, because I do not feel I could give the Clans proper justice. -Shrewstar is to be commended for his fine work as Leader; however, his death was caused purely by his negligence in hunting, and that is on him. -Batwhisker is to be commended for her hunting and climbing prowess; however, her lack of respect can be problematic to her relationships. -Redclaw is to be commended for her battle prowess and courage; however, her hardheaded nature leaves a bit to be desired. -Dawnfoot is to be commended for his prodigious speed; however, his submissiveness has caused him many problems. -Maplewhisker is to be commended for her hunting prowess; however, her temper is not to be envied. -Foxflower is to be commended for her experience with the ways of Queens and Kits; however, it would do well for her to remember to care for herself at times.

Foxflower: Thank you, Ratleaf. I will take your advice into consideration. Like Ratleaf, I will do my best to remain concise. -Ratleaf is a gifted Medicine Cat, and was also a skilled Mentor. However, despite his post, I would caution him against playing advisor when the behaviour he advises against is behaviour he himself partakes in. He and Cloverclaw both are well known for neglecting care of themselves for the sake of their work for the Clan. -Blizzardfur is very hardy and resilient. However, his lack of self esteem dominates him, and for that I do pity him. -Barleycloud is very skilled at teaching about Clan history, Codes, Laws, and traditions. She was a fine mother to her litter. Though, at times I feel she is too passive. ShadowClan as a whole is to be commended for their commitment to surviving and even often thriving. I pity their recent string of illness and Leadership crises, which almost resulted in cats who are now Forgotten claiming Leadership. -Redclaw is exceedingly skilled in battle. In such matters, I see her as an equal. She is a fine mother to her own Kits, and even is very maternal with Orchidpaw. However, I caution against following after her in matters of mischief, because she respects even mischief undertaken at the wrong times for the sake of the benefits that may result. -Dawnfoot is admirably swift. However, he’s easily forced into a submissive role whether he wants to be in such a role or not. That is a trait I attempt to show the Kits how to control, for such a trait can be turned into forced submission on the battlefield by a sufficiently clever enemy Warrior. WindClan as a whole ought to be commended for their mastering of their environment in that they do not shrink away from the challenges of their environment. However, I feel that they as a whole can be too closed-minded about outsiders as a result of the heavy emphasis on their community. -Batwhisker is notably talented at both climbing and hunting. However, she nearly never thinks before she speaks. Again, that is a trait I try to help Kits overcome, because it is all too easy for one wrong thing said or done to cause all kinds of pains and troubles. -Shrewstar is well-rounded in skills, which is a trait I think many cats take for granted. However, his lack of focus ultimately caused his downfall, which is why I take time to train the ability to focus. ThunderClan and RiverClan have had quite the rivalry for Sunningrocks. Regardless, I commend their openness to outsiders who seek to join their Clan. I am, however, worried about how coddling they tend to be with their Kits… With such an upbringing, I at times question where their -claws come from, because as Kits they are generally taught that roughhousing is bad, even though it is roughhousing as Kits that I would say builds the foundation for future -claws and -fangs and their abilities. It also gives even the worst fighters, at the least, the preparatory training so as to hopefully be able to fend off an attack long enough to escape. -Maplewhisker is a prodigious hunter and was a good Deputy. However, I still don’t like her attitude towards Kits.

Maplewhisker: Nor do I like your high standards for yourself and those around you! Though I begrudgingly admit that you recognize that there’s no possibility for perfection, and so you don’t preach perfection, only improvement…-Foxflower is a good enough Deputy. I do like how she has good sense, even if Foxstar gloats way too much about her being Deputy and one of his direct descendants. -Ratleaf is great, super skilled and worth respecting. He did well with Cloverclaw. Can’t say much negative about him. And of course, RiverClan is the best Clan. We swim. We thrive even in leaf bare. We raise hardy Warriors and Medicine Cats right from their earliest days of being able to get around. We’re not self-obsessed like WindClan or encroachers on Sunningrocks like ThunderClan or … well I guess ShadowClan is all right. They at least know the benefits of swimming, and aren’t picky about prey. -Barleycloud is passive and too gentle, but at least she keeps a level head. I will admit I’m not the best at that. -Blizzardfur is arrogant and lacking in self esteem all at once, an awful combination. And no I am not projecting, don’t you dare go down that path Oh Great Counsellor Foxflower! Besides, Blizzardfur is pretty tough. And he’s honest. Gotta respect honesty. -Shrewstar is weak of heart. He also encroaches on Sunningrocks. But he’s well-rounded, which is a good thing, even if he lacks focus. -Batwhisker, well, I respect any cat who earns my suffix. However, she’s too chattery for my taste. -Redclaw is tough, and I admire toughness. I have nothing negative to say about her. -Dawnfoot is weak of heart. But at least he’s got his speed going for him.

Dawnfoot: Maplewhisker… Well, she speaks her mind, and that’s to be commended. Even if she’s quite scary… -Ratleaf is great. Super talented with his craft. I have nothing negative to say. -Foxflower is also great. She’s done so much. Though she’s quite scary when it comes to the well-being of Kits. Oh, I also won’t comment on the different Clans. I don’t like generalizing. -Blizzardfur is very loud and he kind of scares me. But I respect all Elders just for being Elders. -Barleycloud is sweet, and I enjoy speaking with her. At least, as long as she’s not being scary when it comes to the well-being of Kits. -Shrewstar is to be respected as Leader. I don’t really have anything negative to say about him. -Batwhisker is very loud and kind of startling, but I like how skilled she is at night hunting. She takes what she can do and masters it for the sake of the Clan. I respect that. -Redclaw is someone to be proud of. She commands the respect of her Clanmates and would die for any one of them, even as an Elder. Though she can be quite unnerving because she’s so passionate…

Redclaw: I appreciate the kind words, Dawnfoot! I admire your fleetness of foot and your kindness. -Maplewhisker is interesting. My opinion on her is fairly neutral overall. -Foxflower is to be commended for her dedication and wealth of experience. I have nothing but respect for her. -Ratleaf, once again, is to be commended for his dedication and skill set. I have nothing but respect for him. About RiverClan, well I can’t say much positive or negative overall. Though they’ve got some mighty fighters! Their -claw cats and ShadowClan -claw cats were my favourite to scuffle with when it came time to battle, because they’ve been raised to rough house since kithood. ThunderClan -claws are skilled, but they just don’t have those early moons of rough housing. Those early moons do make an impact! -Shrewstar is to be commended as Leader, and overall I have nothing truly negative to say. His method of death, however, was easily prevented. -Batwhisker is a riot! I love her passion for life. I’ve very little negative to say about her. I just wish she’d get on with confessing to Daffodilfur! I confessed to Antface and that turned out wonderfully! And I do love hearing about romance in other Clans. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine! I think poorly of ThunderClan’s general coddling nature, but I do respect their openness to others in need. Sometimes I think WindClan needs a bit more of that. -Blizzardfur, well, any Elder is worth noting for their ability to earn retirement. Though I do wonder what kind of life he had that made him so self-conscious…-Barleycloud is so good at teaching, I’m surprised she’s not a -flower! I always have to remind myself that her talent at teaching only really came to light when it came time for her to teach her own litter of Kits. I admire ShadowClan’s courage, because it takes courage to stick it out with the least amount of territory, and not just to live but to thrive.

#ThunderClan #ShadowClan #RiverClan #WindClan #Foxflower #Barleycloud #Ratleaf #Batwhisker #Maplewhisker #Blizzardfur #Shrewstar #Redclaw #Dawnfoot