#I guess you truly cannot win them all (but especially when it comes to cats)

[scary-senpai]

What am I working on? Nothing, really. Just an exceedingly self-indulgent fic where Garou and Genos come from the same place.

[alfredosauce50]

whenever youre free, can you write yandere 2p china headcanons? im just thinking abt him 👉🏽👈🏽

Yandere 2p! China headcanons

Getting together with you was hard enough. But now that you’re his, he can’t go back to being a second choice he’s always been. He’s never letting you go.

Zao doesn’t have a single yandere characteristic by default, but when he does, ooh boy. It’ll take some time for him to deviate from his normal personality and mental stability, but given enough paranoia and infatuation, he will start losing his sanity, then, his ability to distinguish between right and wrong. And the terrifying thing is, he doesn’t even know it. By this logic, he is by far, the craziest yandere you’ll ever have the misfortune of encountering. 

(There isn’t a lot of fanart on 2p! China so have this fanart of Wei Wuxian for visual purposes)

Home life

He’s very into kissing, so much that he’ll sneak some in while doing the most mundane things. When he talks to you, he will hold your waist and fill the brief moments of silence with kisses. In his eyes, having his lips on yours while a conversation happens is being ‘productive’ as he makes the most out of being with you. Before anything escalates, which ends up happening more often than you’d prefer, you’ll pull away and clamp a hand over his mouth. He’ll lick your hand and laugh at your reaction. 

He bathes with you. He could’ve gone with the more economical option of showering, but he’s far from broke. And plus, he can do so much more while sitting down. You usually stay on the opposite end of the tub, but he’ll pull you onto his lap and whisper this in your ear, “Don’t be shy, kitten. This is your throne.” As you sink into his embrace, which ends up hotter than the water you’re submerged in, he will caress your back and make out with you. Once you’re pleading for air, he will pull away and trail a tongue up your neck instead. When you’re with him, he never actually lets you catch your breath, ever. 

Zao is very mindful of your comfort. Perhaps not when it comes to something sexual, per se, but he will always bring you a blanket if it gets a little chilly. If you forget to put socks on, he will put them on for you without asking. Whenever you go out, he will bring a bag with him and most of the things inside are either yours or for you. 

Spoiling you is a given. He can’t imagine a better way to put his hustle to good use--to give you things you want. Even if you don’t ask for anything, he never fails to get you something you end up loving. But there is one thing he won’t ever let you touch. Substances. Zao is so overprotective in all aspects of your life, he doesn’t even like you drinking. He’s a little more lenient on weed, and will let you have a few puffs of his joint. 

He always covers up at home, and will get a little flustered if you catch him indecent. Zao doesn’t wear a lot to bed, like tank tops and underwear, so he isn’t shirtless very often. The only time he doesn’t get embarrassed is when the mood is... You know. And he’s doing you-know-what with you. Otherwise, he will call you a pervert, but really, he’s teasing you more than expressing embarrassment. Because clearly, that’s rich coming from him.

Yeah. It’s not news how big of a pervert he is. Nor is he ashamed of it. Any dirty thought that crosses his mind, he will never fail to relay to you. It leaves you mortified when he tells you what he wants to do to you, in detail, especially when he isn’t being self-aware. Save that for when you get home, you idiot! But the private sphere only makes him even worse. 

He calms down at night, thankfully, and lays in bed with you on his chest. This is where his love language starts speaking to you. Connecting to you emotionally and mentally is how he shows he loves you. This takes place in long, deep, and random conversations, and if not, he will just captivate you in his dark eyes and stare at you endearingly. “What are you thinking about, kitten? I hope it’s something related to me~” Then, he’ll dig his hands through your hair and massage your head as he breathes you in until he gets intoxicated with you. 

When he gets jealous

He’s the type to get so jealous, it becomes suffocating for him--especially when he doesn’t outwardly show it. So whenever anyone remotely shows interest in you, he’ll keep his cool for the most part, but will get very irritable and clingy. It doesn’t matter how subtle they were, it could’ve been a single glance, even, but alarms will go off. He will pull you into a tight embrace and bury his face in your neck until they leave. You don’t really mind because he isn’t giving anybody trouble, but you do find it cute when he immediately returns to his soft side afterwards. 

Zao isn’t the biggest fan of conflict, even if he’s more than capable of it. Instead, he will gravitate towards his intelligence and cunning to outdo anybody he hates. Stalking is definitely on the table if he needs to get to know someone, then, when it comes down to it, sabotage. He will do anything to keep them busy so they wouldn’t have to see you. And he succeeds every time without you finding out.

Unlike most SO’s, it’s easier for him to get jealous over friends than love interests. He values the emotional aspect of your relationship with him the most, and gets very upset if you bond with people other than him, platonically or not. To make up for it, he demands your attention and ensures the time you spend with him is two times more fulfilling than whoever it was you were with. This is the fundamental reason why he’s more susceptible to getting jealous--literally anybody is a rival in his eyes. 

This is all the more reason to be so much more paranoid and restless than other typical yanderes. 

When you argue

He doesn’t agree with you on a lot of things, so it’s like talking to a brick wall. Objective subjects are easy to get through when it’s straight up facts, but if the topic is about what he can or cannot do in the relationship, save your breath. You will never get through to him. When he feels entitled to something, he takes his own side, regardless of what you feel about it.

Nevertheless, he will do the bare-minimum of leaving you alone in the meantime when you’re upset. That’s how he somehow respects this boundary he just crossed. But a few hours later, he will go back to normal, which means he will be affectionate even when you’re not in the mood. This cues the second phase of the fight. While you’re trying your damndest to push him away, he will corner you, physically and mentally. 

While he hugs you tight, he will force you to look at him while you cry. It’s invasive and suffocating, but the night always ends with you making up with him. Be it kissing or other means. It’s unfair, but no matter what he does, you can’t help giving in to him. And he knows this very well. That’s why he keeps doing it.  

Psychology + When he snaps

He is much more intelligent than he lets on. Even though he already knows you like the back of his hand, he studies you every day. If you asked him what you were thinking about, he could probably guess it. That’s what makes him such an intense lover. You can’t hide anything from him if you tried. Hence, he has a terrifying amount of control in the relationship, and he will use it to his advantage.

Zao is a good multitasker. He can juggle his ‘job’ and hobbies while keeping you in the palm of his hand. There is absolutely nothing you can do without him finding out, and this is precisely how he keeps himself miles ahead of you. 

As everything progresses, he will tolerate less and less. His love language is how much quality time he gets with you, along with emotional connection. Eventually, he will start ruling out the prospect of you having any of these things with anyone besides him. That includes friends, so he will start isolating you from them, all until the only soul you are truly close to is him. Soon, you will have to rely on him for everything, which he absolutely loves. He will make himself the only person in your life. 

As this continues, he will become obsessed with the idea of your co-dependency on him. Zao always loved looking after you, but he isn’t satisfied with that anymore. Being your own person? Hell no. Every single thing you do, he will be in the backdrop. If not, he will be next to you, and start influencing your own thoughts until you can’t even trust yourself. 

At this point, he is manipulating you to accept everything he does. And he succeeds a lot of the time, especially when he’s so unfazed. You start wondering if you should be this unfazed, even when what he’s doing is wrong. 

If one of your friends tries to intervene, he will make sure they won’t see the light of day ever again. He has a lot of connections, and combined with how cunning he is, he can get them to disappear with the snap of his fingers. He will keep doing this until every single person in your life is gone if he has to. 

Zao acts purely on his own desires. It’s his moral compass. Right and wrong will blur together so long as it’s for you, and there’s nothing he won’t do. Murder is as casual of a topic to discuss and do as having breakfast. 

A lot of psychopaths would at least get the thrill of doing something so heinous, but he won’t give a shit. He won’t bat an eye. He won’t feel the smallest shred of remorse and carry on like nothing happened. But what he will feel is satisfaction. 

If you find out what he did

You can cry all you like. He’ll only feel remotely guilty because you’re heartbroken, but it passes pretty quickly when he’s happy with what he’s done. You could try running away too. Try. But he always finds you. It doesn’t matter if you leave the country and go into hiding. He will follow you to the ends of Earth for the rest of his life. What can he say? He loves a good chase. It’s a fun game of cat and mouse he knows he’ll win. 

Every time he finds you, he’ll sneak up to you from behind and whisper, “Are you done, now? Let’s go home already.” If you try to run away again, he’ll just catch you and hold you tight, even while you’re thrashing in his arms. “I can do this forever, kitten. You have nobody else to go to, and nowhere else to be. So don’t waste your energy and come back with me.”

Response to ask: 

Of course :) I’m honored you submitted an ask to me after thinking about him 🤗 He’s definitely one of my favorites! Zao’s gotta be the most fleshed out 2p next to Allen. Since 2p’s aren’t canon, they rely solely on the fandom’s interpretation and ability to dish out content on them. I haven’t seen any proper yandere stuff on Zao, so I think this is a first. And boy, he’s a terrifying one for sure. I feel like he embodies the worst of the yandere trope because he’s into psychological manipulation. Worst isn’t the right word, actually. I believe ‘accurate’ is a better way of describing it. This is what a real yandere looks like. 

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Hiiii!!! 💫💕🌸🥳

Can I bother with a question... I was (re)watching that zhang qiling edit (not today) - 'cause it's so cool, btw- and I wondered if Reboot Xiaoge’s your favourite one...? And if you're up to answering, what do you think about the other adaptations? Especially (our small bean) xiao yuliang's interpretation of xiaoge?

🤗🌺💐🐰💕

Hey, my precious patootie hehe ILY it always makes me very happy knowing that you rewatch my vids <3

lol dang it, I was kinda hoping to avoid this question, just because I feel like I'd find it hella hard to explain some things, but I'll try my best and hopefully it'll make some sense xD

I'll start from afar bc I wanna try to explain my reasonings, since I don't want to go without arguments into such highly debated question lolz. I talked about this a bit in my previous asks somewhere, but not broadly as to why that one guy hit all the right spots.

So throughout the books Wu Xie always does this wonderful thing, where he very tangibly describes the feeling he gets when Xiaoge is near, I mean like the aura around him. And he always somehow does it so colorful, that this mix of safety, assurance, calmness, composure and some things I can't quite put into one noun, that he brings to him, I think everyone who've read the books can recognize as this almost magical "Xiaoge feeling". It's not just the way he acts in some dangerous situations or smth like that. It's just everything. You either have it or you don't. And here goes my first argument... to me none of them, except for Huang Junjie and Yuliang have it.

I mean it's not even the obvious stuff, it's like the way they move during the action scenes, the way they even stand and hold themselves, the way they touch Wu Xie, the tone of their voices (both of which are like soothing as fuck), little things you'd think wouldn't matter, but when you watch it and all the puzzle pieces are together, you're like... fuck yeah, thats him.

Also not really that weighty of a point, but to me there's always a joy to see that the actor who plays the character not only gets what's he's playing, but also loves it, bc it's always seen on screen. Usually when some asked about the character they play and what they have in common for example they answer with obvious things like if some character is introverted they're like "well I also don't talk very much" or smth like that, you know what I mean. When I was watching interviews of Yuliang and Huang Junjie I was just smiling so much, bc they've said such things that made me go "yeah, Qiling is safe in their hands".

In Reboot case working in such close proximity with the author definitely also played a huge role here. Bc it kinda gets complicated in some aspects since the books are written from Wu Xie's point of view and you can't only base your picture on his perspective, just bc it's coming from a person who after being basically told "you're my whole world" goes "I'm just a person he randomly passes by in his long life" in his thoughts. Not only he's utterly clueless and dumb when it comes to all this, that he wouldn't notice the way Qiling looks at him and other things, its also not that kind of book, that would go "I suddenly caught poker face looking at me like I'm his whole existence" (and I honestly don't want it to be that book lmao). So you have to take into the account here stuff like what author says to get the whole picture, bc if you look at that from the point of Qiling's view for example, this shit takes a whole wild turn. So I really loved that in UN and Reboot ways of showing Qiling's feelings were well thought out and fit the timeline.

Bc it also works both ways, when it comes to other adaptations. Like Qiling is very and I mean ETREMELY hard to win over. We all know that it was a very long process of gaining his trust and even longer for him to fall for Wu Xie to the point of him being his everything. So what I want in those interpretations is for them to get at which point of their relationships what Xiaoge's behavior makes sense. I do not need any fanservice if it ruins the character, I'll just hate it. The thing that their feelings didn't come out of nowhere is what I LOVE about this ship, bc I'm not the kind of person who believes in "we love for nothing" thing and love at first sight thing (only "got hots for each other" at first sight), bc thats bull. Wu Xie became his everything after a long LONG process of getting to know each other. At the beginning tho he was the same stranger to him as everyone else. So what Reboot Qiling feels for Wu Xie is not what UN's Qiling feels for Wu Xie yet and what UN's Qiling feels for Wu Xie is not what Lost Tomb's Qiling feels for Wu Xie (which at that point was nothing). And I feel like not everyone gets the fact that you can totally wreck the character if you make him behave not the way he behaved in that particular time. Like for example, if someone would make a MDZS adaptation where at the very beginning of their relationships LZ treats WWX the way he treated him after the reincarnation just because "who cares, it's still LZ", that would be dumb af, see what I mean. So Xiaoge having a weakness for Wu Xie in part one is automatically not a Xiaoge to me, bc a huge part of his character and the thing NPSS speaks a lot about is just how IMPOSSIBLE it is for someone to catch his attention and how long it took Wu Xie to get there. So let's just say to me UN and Reboot Qilings for the first time didn't feel like some mashup or character summary/parody, they were Qilings the way they are supposed to be in that part of the story, bc it was the only times someone actually bothered to coordinate it.

Now as to why I prefer one to another. Xiaoge has this thing... the way he holds himself with other people, that is sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally suppressing.

Like everyone knows that if you're a passerby, Qiling genuinely doesn't fucking care and would in fact be pretty harsh about it in terms of treating people like they do not deserve their attention. He won't be like "please, don't bother me", he simply ignored them like an empty space. He is also like that with acquaintances who in his opinion do not deserve his respect like that girl who went hysterical, bc she was upset that he was the only one who wasn't drooling on her like all other men on the crew, Chen Wenjin, Wu Xie's uncles and etc. He's not openly disrespectful unless they trigger him in some way (usually by trying to act superior or later on for not treating Wu Xie right), but if they do, he will in fact remind them their place in sometimes a very rude way, at times humiliating them in front of ppl bc he looks younger than them and talking starts.

He's always doing things on his own terms and hates being told what to do. Like he legit scared Chen Wenjin just with a look and the tone of his voice when he said "let go", when she tried to command him on the mission and grabbed him trying to lecture him about what he should or shouldn't do. That's why Wu Erbai didn't even try anything like this and let him do whatever he needed to do and equally lead the mission in Reboot. And why the scene where Wu Xie 'commands' "Xiaoge, come back" and he immediately listens holds another special place in my heart. Bc he NEVER and I mean NEVER allows such things to ANYONE.

So here I came to a point of why despite loving them both dearly, my favorite Xiaoge is Huang Junjie.

I have this dissonance with Yuliang's version when to me in many scenes it felt like he and Wu Xie are the same age. Like if he was Xiaoge, but in his 20s. In his interactions with Chen Wenjin the dynamics was turned upside down, with him being okay with her telling him what to do and just in general the way she behaved with him. Same as like I didn't always quite believe him to be on par with older generation or even Pangzi, it just felt like he was truly younger than them. Some scenes that I do find extremely cute just don't fit book Xiaoge at all, I'm talking about some moments like his face when Wu Xie gave him food, or him pouting and many things he's done, when you were going "uwu he's a baby". He just never gives me this feeling in the books ever, not just bc he's 100 years old, but sad fact here.. bc he's simply unable to behave that way. Like in the books you'll desperately want to shower him with love, but he's just... I can't quite explain, it's very sad.

I guess it's just you know these characters, who are like hundreds years old, but look like they're 18? I think you have to be very careful with how you write those, so you could deliver that. And in UN because of some changed dynamics and scenes I straight up forgot about it, until Wu Xie threw some joke like "he's an old man" in front of a restaurant.

In Reboot Xiaoge could make Wu Erbai stutter with one move, put Yuliang's version in the same scene, I just don't think it would've worked. Like I'm trying to imagine him telling UN's Wu Erbai what to do and having troubles already haha. Same as I don't think he's capable to be genuinely mad at Wu Xie, and HJJ nailed it esp in one of my fav when Wu Xie was laughing at Pangzi's joke about him catching cold. The look he gave him and how ZYL just retreated was priceless xD. And boy could Qiling get angry with him in the books!

Otherwise I didn't have any drastic fall outs there, like with Joseph's Wu Xie and Ah Ning's death, because that was just too much of a difference, but there were still moments where it was once again this the same scene completely different emotion thing. He was more tolerable to ppl in general here, more pliable. And 50% of the time he gave me the cute lost kitten type, which I just cannot connect with the feeling he gave me in the books. His personality is a cat type 100%, but like seriously "cute baby" is the last word combination I would ever apply to book Xiaoge, but with Yuliang's version it's easily applied. So small bean he is indeed. With Joseph and in UN it works incredibly perfect to me, but the way he is in UN is at times too gentle. And there are lots of scenes where Joseph himself looked at him in a way "you're too cute, let me pinch your cheeks" kind of way, or the way he like sat down next to him on the coast, he was a bit babying him at times. I can't imagine book pingxie doing that. It's just a whole different vibe, the way he takes care of him, the way he lets him take care of him... it's...uuuuuuuuu another vibe (see, I'm so good at explaining lmao).

It's also kinda funny to me, bc HJJ who's the smallest and who irl truly a kitten never once gave me that feeling on screen for some reason. The one babied and loved by every crew and old ppl, who was cutely hiding behind ZYL's back on set, who won't sue an ex who almost ruined his career bc of how stupid she is, bc he "didn't want to hurt her", who according to staff can't even step on a fly, whom CMH was petting for several minutes after he had to hit him with a prop brick bc he didn't wanna do it lmao. I was just like.. ok, this is hilarious, bc I in fact didn't expect him to be a small bean, so watching all the bts made me go LOOOOL. Probably ZYL acting like a 3 year old helped him transform and the age difference problem got lost lmao

As for other adaptations. You know I can't watch seriously "Lost Tomb", I think some ppl probably have some nostalgic feeling about it, but I'm sorry, to me it's fucking hilarious. Like I've already said it looks like some type of twilight parody thing or smth. Soft damselle Wu Xie esp killed me, bc 1st when he ever was that, 2nd in the first book he's salty af, I don't even know this dude in this interpretation, I was like who's this. YangYang I know him from other things, I really don't think it's his role. I know the script and everything is bad. I know the costume and hair are horrendously funny, but it's just I was watching him in those action scenes and was like no... just I'm sorry but I'm not feeling it. I simply just don't know what to say about the whole thing seriously, bc I don't even know where to start. 10 episodes of some salad finished with one mutilated scene from book 6 for no reason the fact that characters are weird themselves also I can't quite tell, did they really just meet or they imply smth else lmao.. I'm sorry, but I do not get it.

I've given LT2 another try after finishing all the books and I've dropped it half way through, Cheng Yi wasn't even close to how I pictured Xiaoge in any aspect. He in fact didn't do anything OOC or off the book or anything, I just was like "not my Qiling". Happens sometimes.

Explore with the note you already know how I feel about this lol let's just forget.

P.S. To be fair here also maybe we should take into account the fact that some got luckier than other with "at which point" Xiaoge they're playing. Like for example, "Wrath of the Sea" and "Qingling Tree" books which is LT2 is not exactly you can say much about Qiling there, he trolls them there in the beginning (in a brilliant way that was totally lost in the adaptation) and he is there in "Wrath of Sea", but it's not the part that can make his character shine in any way, there's not much things happening there that would make you fall for him or get to know him; Yuliang grabbed the fattest piece bc it's middle several books, when they're always together and his character shines the most in terms of clues about past, opening up to Wu Xie and Pangzi, and there are many many events where you can get the picture of what kind of man he is; Huang Junjie grabbed my fav piece of utter devotion, where he's already fully and wholeheartedly belongs to Wu Xie, that I'm just weak for. So like... there's also that I guess xD.

[timerainseternal]

It has occurred to me that Five’s life is basically one big stream of failed successes, which is very interesting since he’s a very competent character overall. We know he is extremely good at physical tasks (best assassin in the timeline and has the ability to manipulate space, yeah I think he has it covered), mental tasks (solved time travel with equations on his own, can consistently come up with pretty solid, if risky, back-up plans), and is resourceful and able to improvise. Sure, his social skills are pretty bad, but he even improves on that in season 2 with his attempts to bring his siblings together instead of being almost solely independent like season 1. This isn’t to call him perfect (he really isn’t) or anything like that, but just to point out that rightfully, he should be more successful in the show than he is. I know his failure is mostly because the writers can’t have him actually succeed, since his goal is basically to stop the conflict in the show, but I’m pretty sure he thinks the universe hates him a whole lot (and it does!). 

To emphasize how constant this is, I’ve gone overboard and made a timeline of Five’s major goals, and how they failed. I’ve counted most of them as failed successes, in that he technically did complete his goal, but not in a way that mattered to his actual goal, or in a way that created new problems to solve. Below a read more, since I am incapable of being concise.

Time Travel:

The first, and biggest, failed success. He did succeed at time travelling! He just was unable to go back and got stuck in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Confirmed failed success.

Time Travel Back: 

Well, it took him forty-five years and he accepted a deal to become a time-travelling assassin, which wasn’t getting out on his own steam. Despite that, it didn’t take him that long to finish his equations while at the Commission, so presumably he was pretty close to getting it at that point. Also, even though he was technically time travelling forwards from 1963, he was able to get all his siblings back in time like a week later without time to work on his equations between, so he probably would have been able to get back. In short, he did get back (though only to 2019 and not 2002, so he didn’t ever get back to when he left), but became an assassin, and also physically thirteen, in the process: failed success.

Prevent the Apocalypse:

This is a big one so I will break it down into steps as well, but it is also a failed success as a whole since he did not, in fact, stop the apocalypse (or he stopped the original one but caused a different one in the process, depending on your point of view), but he did protect his siblings and himself from it as well as give themselves another chance to fix it. Failed success.

Get Information on the Eye:

Did eventually get the information from MeriTech, which told him nothing about who the eye belonged to. Failed success.

Get Information from the Commission:

Found out who they were protecting, did decent damage to the Commission HQ, and managed to hunt Harold down. Success! But Harold was already dead when he found him and had already set the apocalypse in motion, and the Commission was only temporarily damaged and it gave Five a shrapnel wound. He was also lulled into a false sense of security by the apparent end of the apocalypse. Failed success. 

Mental Healing:

Goes to put back Dolores, finally able to let go of her as a coping mechanism and realizing he can find other avenues of self-exploration and development. Wonderful, Five, I’m very proud! His absence from the Vanya situation keeps her trapped (since presumably he would have jumped her out of there?), leading to the apocalypse that is the root of most of his trauma. Whoops. A very failed success, and a very sad one too.

Stop Vanya from Ending the World:

Well, he doesn’t actually really help that much here? He agrees to kill Vanya but doesn’t succeed. This one is mostly on Allison. As a group, though, they succeed in not making her set off a sonic boom or whatever it would have been, but they do blow up the moon, so. This one is just a failure.

Escape the Apocalypse:

As mentioned, Five does manage to get them all out of the apocalypse safely and without bodily changes! He did scatter them across the sixties and landed himself in another apocalypse immediately, so: failed success.

Gather Siblings:

It's like herding cats. Luther says no, Diego breaks out of the asylum, everyone has a love life all of a sudden, etc. This becomes an ongoing goal, and one that has varying levels of success at different points. Success level: oscillating.

Find Reginald:

Well, they do find him. He also stabs Diego and Pogo scratches Five :(. Then they go to the gala, get attacked by the Swedes, but they do get Reginald’s attention which leads him to invite them to a light supper. This one is a successful fail, since they basically get Reginald to find them at a time and place of his choosing.

Get Advice from Reginald:

Well, this meeting leads to everyone getting un-adopted, and the advice Five gets isn’t helpful to his immediate dilemma. He also has to see Reginald again :(. However, the advice is useful later, so: failed success.

Make a Deal with the Handler:

It does technically succeed, this one, in that he is extremely good at murdering the Board, and the Handler does give him a briefcase. It does have a time limit because the Handler is awful, but presuming that it actually did what she said, and if the siblings had all shown up, it would have been a full success! In practice, however, given the actual results: failed success.

Gather Siblings (Speed Round):

He gets 3 (2.5, sorry Ben) of them, so fully half! Only half, though. And the others had planned to come (sometimes with others, you naughty rulebreaker, Vanya), but got attacked/kidnapped/knocked out. So, getting half is kind of successful, but in this case it was all or nothing, so it’s a straight failure.

Get Briefcase from Past Self:

He doesn’t murder himself, so that’s a kind of success! It’s the only one, though, since even though he told other-Five the right equation that doesn’t actually help him any, since he remains thirteen and without a briefcase. He also gets to kick Luther square in the nuts, which is a success of sorts. Still a failure, though, especially because as he deals with that, Vanya’s preparing to end the world accidentally again and he doesn’t even know about that.

Go With Vanya:

Admittedly, it seems like he kind of doesn’t have another goal at this point, but that’s okay, since the apocalypse of ‘63 has been prevented and this is finally granting full success to the goal of Gather Siblings! However, since he is being framed for the murder of the Board (well, I say framed. He did actually do it), the Handler can use that to justify all of the Commission agents showing up, and can use this opportunity to kill the whole Academy and get Harlan too. I mean, she totally would have done the same thing whether or not he killed the Board, but it’s a nice excuse, and Lila also hates Five. In any case, though he has technically completed the goal of going with Vanya and supporting her, now they have to fight a whole lotta people. Failed success, I guess.

Protect His Siblings:

This, really, is the only actual goal he has in the show, and everything else is the steps to get there. And he fails the first time around! Traumatic! Luckily he was able to turn back time in a feat of badassery, and turn the biggest failure--a situation where he watches his siblings die and cannot save them and will never be able to save them and they’re dead forever--into his biggest success--discovering a new and very useful power, saving them all from death, ending remaining threats [the Handler and the Swede, (though the Swede is technically the one to actually kill the Handler, Five did thwart her plan and semi-directly led to her death, and I think he deserves to be the one who killed her, so there)], making a truce with the Commission, and getting them a way back to an apocalypse-free timeline. Failure followed by success.

Go Back to 2019

They did go back to 2019, just not their 2019. They’ve been un-adopted and the Sparrows exist, but there doesn’t seem to be an apocalypse in sight. Failed success. 

Basically what I’m saying here is that despite being one of the most focused, consistent, and results-driven characters on the show, he rarely truly, fully succeeds. The real message here is that Five needs a win, a break, something. I hope in season 3 he gets it, or at the very least gets the chance to go absolutely wild. He deserves it.

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Can You Imagine? V

A/N: So, I had SOMETHING I wanted to add at the end of this chapter, but I have entirely forgotten what that was. This means the chapter isn't *quite* as long as I'd have liked to be. Hopefully it's still enjoyable, especially as I do think a lot still happens in the character development here. Skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

--

You Forfeit All Right to My Heart

Freydis received a, truthfully, rather horrible shock in her opinion. Everyone had seen how badly putting her and Ivar in the same room had gone. But, Professor Andersen had come to speak with her, and asked her what had happened, why their reunion had gone so wrong.

She’d told him the truth, told him how history had been inaccurate, and the man had simply watched her in shock. If the two were to be a team, they were going to need to learn how to better get along with each other. So far, it didn’t seem that would happen, even if they were made to talk to each other again.

Freydis had said that if she were put in a room with Ivar again, locked in with him, she’d just find a way out. This was what she’d meant when she thought giving a prisoner powers would backfire. They couldn’t control her, and they knew it. Her power was growing every day.

A plan had to be devised, then, to bring Freydis and Ivar together. They couldn't be left to figure things out slowly, over time. The whole purpose in choosing two people who had been married before they died was that they'd already be a perfect team. They weren't meant to choose a couple who had fallen apart in the final years of one's life!

But, as Freydis told Professor Andersen, when he had expressed this to her, fate had a funny way of making things more difficult for those who were determined to outwit it. It wasn't that, in her belief, this couldn't be done. It was simply that one would have to fight harder if that was what they wanted to do. And even so, how could one be sure that wasn't their fate after all? To overcome what they believed to be their fate?

Professor Andersen had simply been more confused by what she said, but after discussing this with Dr. Schmidt, who then talked to the doctors and scientists in charge of Ivar, he had been tasked with the role of coming up with a way to bring Freydis and Ivar together. He'd considered putting them in a perilous situation together, so they would have to work together to survive, but he knew how that would turn out from the conversation the two had had before. Ivar would sacrifice his life to let Freydis live, she'd let him, angry as she was, and they'd be done. No team there if half the team is dead.

That didn't mean he hadn't come up with something he thought was brilliant, though. No, in fact, he had come up with something that he was sure would work. His plan had required new technology to be developed, technology that would be able to restrain the magic that now ran through Freydis's veins, and eventually, they'd come up with something.

It was a space in which she couldn't use her powers. Ivar wouldn't hurt her (again) they didn't expect, so it wasn't as though she would need those powers. Besides, security would have access to the room at all times. If he did try to hurt her somehow, for any reason, they could step in.

So, that was how Freydis found herself being offered a new space to live in, being told it would be much more comfortable. When they took her in and she saw Ivar, she'd tried to escape as fast as a cat being put in the bath. Finding that her powers didn't work sent a shock of fear through her, and very little to do was made before the door was shut, locked from outside, and she was left in there with Ivar.

The plan Professor Andersen had concocted was to force the pair to learn to live with each other, as now it was almost guaranteed Freydis wouldn't be able to kill Ivar with a flick of her wrist. With a weapon, sure, but that would be when security would step in before she could.

A thick silence filled the room as they stood and watched each other. The shock of Ivar being alive had worn off for her, the shock of being in the same vicinity as him, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about any of this, or let him off easily. Instead of trying to make peace with him, she crossed her arms, looked over him once, and said, "Your legs work now."

She seemed almost skeptical, and it brought an honest chuckle out of Ivar when he heard that. "They work," he confirmed, nodding a little. "The technology is quite impressive here, you see. Better than anything we had in Kattegat."

Freydis cocked a brow for a moment. "I would still prefer to be in Kattegat," she said sharply.

"As would I," Ivar said. "But we are here."

"We wouldn't have to be here if you hadn't killed me," she now snarled.

Ivar sighed. "Are we going to spend all of our time going over that?" he questioned. "Yes, I killed you, because you betrayed me to my brothers. Would you have preferred I let you be put on trial before our people? Found guilty of treason and executed in front of them? I was saving you the humiliation."

"You lost! If you had waited to see what happened, you'd have seen I didn't have to die!" she snapped. "That is the problem with you! You never believe you can lose, do you? Everything you do must be successful, because you have the favor of the Gods! Do you realize not everything good comes to those with their favor, but sometimes you fail because it is their will regardless of what their favor is?"

Ivar chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. He crossed his arms, and Freydis glared. "I know I cannot win everything," he said. "I learned that when my campaign with the Rus in Scandinavia was crushed by my brother. I learned that when you betrayed me. When our son- no, your son- was born how he was, and I realized I would never have a family of my own."

"Perhaps you could have if you hadn't left him out to die," she countered, and he began to laugh, leaning his head back.

"Or perhaps if he had truly been my son!" Freydis opened her mouth to protest, but Ivar cut her off before she could. "Do not lie to me and tell me he was, we both know the truth! I could not have children. Not when I was with you. We could not have had a child together. Whatever you told me, about how you conceived that child, was a lie, I know that now. Because if he had been mine, it would have meant I was a God, but I know that cannot have been true because of the way he was born!"

Freydis glared at him harshly, in the sort of way he recognized as her anger cooling off. Which, in all truth, was worse than when it was hot. When it was cold, she was giving up the argument.

"I did it for you," she hissed. "I wanted you to have a family, and an heir."

Ivar blinked as he looked at her then, the cold, harsh anger in her eyes. When he realized Baldur could not have been his son, his mind had immediately pictured the worst. He'd pictured Freydis in love with some other man, carrying a child she could not confess was his because she had married Ivar the Boneless. If he had discovered the identity of the child's father, had even learned it wasn't his, they both knew his temper. He might have killed someone for it- certainly would have if he'd found the child's father.

But the way she spoke now, it almost seemed as though she hated what she had done. Perhaps there was guilt, perhaps disgust, he couldn't say. But he knew who could, he knew that Freydis could say what she felt about what she'd done. Freydis could also say what she had done.

His anger seemed to subside out of almost nowhere, and he looked at her with a cool, curious expression. "And what did you do, hm?" he asked. "You seem upset about what you did, and that is why you are angry with me for being angry with you over it. Is that right? Or am I wrong, and you are angry for another reason? Aside from the death of your son, and your own death, I know those things already." He waved a dismissive hand, to keep her from bringing it up again.

Freydis huffed, crossing her arms and turning away from him. "If you must know," she began. "I killed him. Baldur's biological father. He was one of the slaves we had. As soon as I knew I was with child, I had him killed. The official story I gave for wanting it was that he had behaved inappropriately with me. It was not questioned. Who would question it? I was the Queen. If I said it was true, it was true." Her eyes swam with some expression he couldn't quite understand, but if he had to guess, it was a mixture of guilt, and pain. "I never even asked his name. He probably had family. I don't even know he was a slave- for all I know, he was a servant in our house, and he had a wife and a family, children of his own."

She swallowed hard, and looked back at Ivar. "I was not a killer before I met you," she said. "I told you I would do whatever you wanted me to do, whatever you asked of me. I told you I would do anything for you, and it was true, what I told you. You wanted an heir, even if you believed you could not have one, so I concocted a plan to give you one. And whether you want to believe it or not, he was your son. You were with me through every day I carried him. You were there when I birthed him. You held him. And you killed him."

Her voice cracked under the emotion she felt at her last words, and Ivar's jaw clenched. He swallowed hard and his eyes fell to the ground. Somehow, Freydis was pleased to see he still had the same tells when he felt guilty. The truth was out, and he knew now why she was angry whenever he just cast aside what she had done to give him a son.

Because, the truth was, Baldur had been his son, in all but carrying his DNA. (Ivar had only recently learned about DNA, but he decided just then he would have to see if people took care of children now who were not theirs by birth.) Everything Freydis said about that was true. He distanced himself from what he'd done by claiming the boy hadn't been his, by distancing himself from the child himself, because perhaps he wouldn't hate himself for what he'd done if it was just some poor man's son.

Sometimes, Ivar thought back to that night. Especially after seeing Freydis here again, after their confrontation, he found himself unable to stop thinking about that night. He still believed what he told Baldur, the reasons he had left him, but he wondered if Freydis had ever known why he'd done it. Regardless of what she had known before, he decided she was going to know now.

With a great sigh, he began to speak.

"I couldn't let him suffer how I had suffered all my life," he said. "Even if it would only be a few days, I could not let him endure such a thing."

Freydis looked up at him, her brows drawn tightly together as she considered what he'd just said. He couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't handle seeing the devastation he imagined in her as she relived this nightmare. He was certainly reliving it, he knew that much.

But, not looking at her, he couldn't see how tightly her arms were wrapped around herself, the pain that seemed to radiate from her. Well, no, that he could feel. It was thick in the air, just as the silence had been when they'd first been left alone. He hated it.

After quite some time, Freydis finally said, "He should have been at home with us." He didn't need to look to hear that tears were now leaking from her eyes. Ivar knew her voice better than anyone's- perhaps even better than his own mother's, by now. But he owed it to her, to face what he'd done to her, so he finally looked up, and met her eyes.

It was so much worse than he could have imagined. He didn't know when she'd started crying, but the tears that rolled down her cheeks, just as he predicted, were clearly not the first she'd shed in this conversation. She looked so much worse than devastated, she looked desperate, and all he could say was, "He should have been."

When all had been said and done, and Ivar found himself in Kievan Rus without his wife or son, he had thought often about how Baldur's life had ended. When he was dying himself, lying there and looking up at Hvitserk, he realized how much worse it would have been to have died alone, the way Baldur had. Everything had fallen into place in that moment, so many moments too late.

Shock registered then on Freydis's face, or rather a more mild sort of surprise at his confession. No part of the woman had ever expected Ivar to admit he was wrong about something, and yet here they were.

She gave a curt nod, and wiped the tears from her face. "Then we agree on something," she allowed, and walked into the kitchen the pair had been provided with. Ivar watched her go silently, and swallowed hard.

Perhaps this was going be the beginning of healing. Or, perhaps at least the beginning of a peaceful coexistence. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn't take the screaming again and again. He was a strong man in his former life, was stronger now, but he wondered if any man had been strong enough to see the woman he loved in that sort of pain so frequently. He couldn't.

Neither of them ate that night, despite Freydis having gone into the kitchen at one point. She’d looked around rather aimlessly, but found her appetite was rather nonexistent after their conversation. Ivar’s was as well, and so silence reigned in the little apartment until night fell.

It wasn’t a very comfortable silence. The air in the room was tense still, and when night fell, they stood together in the doorway of their new room. The apartment was only built for one couple, and so there was one bedroom, with one bed. Freydis turned to look over Ivar again, and then the bed.

“Your legs are healed,” she said. “You can sleep on the floor or the couch.”

Ivar grimaced a bit, but watched her go into the room. She turned around and looked at him as he stood in the doorway. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, and she waited just a moment to let him, but when he didn’t, she grabbed the door, and moved it so that she was about to close it. Ivar swallowed as he looked down at her.

“Goodnight, Ivar,” she said. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but her words were final.

He took a step back, and replied, “Goodnight, Freydis,” before watching her close the door.

Ivar sighed quietly and went to the couch, laying down and getting himself comfortable- well, as comfortable as he could be. The couch wasn’t exactly great. He missed Freydis, and she was right there. He wanted to be with her, but she wasn’t open to it. But, they had managed to exist in the same space without fighting for some of the day. Maybe that was a sign that things were getting better. If they could get used to living together, maybe they could heal.

It was a start, if nothing else, and a start was better than nothing. It meant there was hope.

 Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

[regrettablewritings]

Can I ask for some DOMESTIC headcanons with Jaskier, please?

Ask and you shall receive~

If they get married, who proposes?: Jaskier never really saw himself as the type to settle down, having spent plenty of his life living freely and unbound to any woman (or man). He was perfectly content with the idea of roaming the land for the rest of his days: Loving, laying, and leaving as warranted, and with as many lovers as he could bear. Until he realized that he wasn’t content with that. And he would never be content with that kind of lifestyle — or at all, really — if it didn’t include you in it in come way. Preferably as his and his alone. Though the bard would be tempted to ask for your hand in some extravagant and showy way, reality ensues in several different ways: For one, the two of you are often traveling. This makes the act of doing anything showy a bit difficult, never mind a proposal. For another, the most showy places where he could possibly cause a big splash tend to be banquets he gets invited to as entertainment. Specifically, banquets in celebration of some higher-ranking nobility, usually their engagements or birth announcements of some kind. Needless to say, very taboo to suddenly take the attention off them. And thirdly, as much as he wants the whole continent to learn of his love for you, Jaskier knows you’d hate that sort of thing. He may be a peacock, demanding attention, but you’re not: You like to keep things simple and flowing naturally. It’s easy for many to forget it, but Jaskier isn’t as selfish or oblivious to the needs of others as he tends to come off as. He would never dream of doing anything that might humiliate you regardless of it having anything to do with whether or not you wanted to marry him. It isn’t the majestic or lavish proposal he would’ve ever wanted to give anyone, much less you, but he makes do with the opportunity he’s offered: In a field in the countryside, his legs and feet aching after walking for hours, with the closest witnesses being a giddy child trying to keep her silence at a distance, and her only somewhat amused paternal figure who’s mostly just surprised you even said yes.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?: In spite of his noble lineage, the guest list for a notoriously horny viscount-turned-bard is rather small, with an equally minor affair. There is no grand cathedral or high quality fabrics or even a feast worthy of the nobility. And as disappointed as he is that he cannot provide you a lavish affair as you so deserve, he is at least able to find relief that there is at least still a you. What there is is a small, quaint little chapel, the dress you already had with the additional accessory of a flower crown Ciri made you, and a guest list that initially was only meant to include Geralt but at some point also included Yennefer, much to Jaskier’s absolute dread. As stated before, there isn’t a feast, and Jaskier could think of a far better post-wedding meal than whatever fare even the nicest pub in town would provide. A tiny part of him regrets the actions that caused him to leave his title behind because it’s robbed you of experiencing the fineries he knows you are owed. But then again, if he hadn’t become a bard, then he wouldn’t have met you. And if he hadn’t met you, he wouldn’t be here, sitting in a loud, messy tavern, with you holding his hand beside him as you sheepishly giggle at the barmaid dispense upon you “her wisdom” from years of marriage. It’s not ideal, in the most superficial or materialistic sense, no. But in the end, he’s satisfied: There couldn’t be a more memorable way for the two of you to start your lives together, not even if he were still a high-standing viscount.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?: I can’t see Jaskier being especially eager to have children. Though, given his track record, he probably already has a few kids scurrying around. It’s unlikely that the overeager lover would have remembered to utilize whatever counted as a contraceptive for the period, though, so there are still chances you’ll wind up pregnant. In which case, you have a boy: Charming and artful like his father, but grounded enough like you to not get his head caught in the clouds enough to fall off a cliff. Aside from his good looks and cheery disposition, his skills in music and field studies make him a golden child in the eyes of many, causing Geralt and Yennefer to wonder how anyone so smart and likable could possibly be of Jaskier’s blood.

Do they have any pets?: Jaskier doesn’t really care to have a pet but if you ask or even bring home a smallish pet or two like a cat or a lap dog, he won’t be against it.

Who’s the stricter parent?: You are, to the shock of absolutely nobody. Though, you wouldn’t call it being strict: You prefer to call it “setting boundaries to assure your kid survives into adulthood”, which Jaskier finds pretty rich considering the two of you spent a good few years boundless as, well, technical vagabonds. He’s more the sort to encourage your child’s indulgences and also more likely to get the both of them into some minor form of trouble. Or, at the very least, sneak him sweets before dinner or bedtime.

Who kills the bugs in the house?: It starts off with you: In spite of all that time living on the road and occasionally spending the night at less than favorable or sanitary inns, Jaskier never became accustomed to the presence of insects. “Besides,” he tries to reason, “you were always the one penning things about bugs.” “Yes,” you agreed. “Drawing. That’s not the same!” And if the fool had even read your field guides more thoroughly, he might’ve noticed that the amount of bugs you took note of paled in comparison to your notes on birds and even fantastical creatures. Mainly because you despised looking at and being near bugs. They frightened you! His guess is maybe you would try to capture them and release them outdoors -- but that’s only true to a point. You can do that with a lady bug, certainly. Maybe even, on occasion, a cricket. But once the bug hits a certain size and can fly? The household is filled with the sounds of you two screaming and yelling at one another, with Jaskier being about as helpful as a twig for a paddle. Sure, he talks a big game about being there for “morale support”. But the reality is that he’s hiding behind a wall that happens to be behind your quivering form as you attempt to approach the nightmare insect that had crawled into your home. In the end, sad as it is to say, the one who kills the bugs is actually Geralt whenever he happens to be in the area. Because as dominant in the relationship as you are, it’s still a relationship with Jaskier: That means that not only are you only dominant by so much, but also that Geralt is the one wearing the trousers in a relationship he’s not even involved in.

How do they celebrate holidays?: It doesn’t matter if the home you’ve settled down in is as large as an estate fit for a viscount, or as small as a little cottage by the seaside: Jaskier will try to make your home a central partying point for local events and holidays. He’ll spare no expense trying to piece together a grand meal (or at least the materials that might make one) or finding whatever materials may be necessary for a god’s feast day. But what he mostly looks forward to is the performing: No matter what the holiday or feast day is in celebration of, Jaskier will find a way to wedge a song or two in. And no matter how awful the lyrics may actually be, all attendees will listen to it if they want to keep eating.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?: Jaskier. The man loves the feeling of you and always has a hand on you during the day. This doesn’t change just because he’s asleep: No matter what position the two of you fall asleep in, you will inevitably wake up with him cuddled up next to you, arms wrapped about you as though you were anchoring him to this world. You’re not exactly an early riser yourself, but when you do finally give in and recognize you need to get up at some point, your poor husband whines and you can feel his hold on you tighten. Not nearly enough to hurt, of course, but enough for you to recognize that he really and truly doesn’t want you to go. And you can try and argue that he can get up now all you want, it’s not going to change the fact that you yourself are quite warm in this position . . . Or that the way he stares at you with those blue puppy eyes is unfortunately quite endearing . . . . . . Ah, Hell. What’s a few more minutes? You can practically feel him smirking as you climb back into bed and resume your cuddling position. Normally you’d be annoyed by this brand of satisfaction, given that Jaskier can be a bit of a brat. But when it comes to moments like this, you don’t mind too terribly. It’s technically a win-win situation anyway.

Who’s the better cook?: You are. Given his previous life as a viscount, Jaskier has experience with finer qualities of food -- well, eating it, that is. He never had to actually learn how to prep food or fend for himself until he took to the road as a bard. And it’s arguable if he ever even properly learned to even after the fact. For the most part, he’d gotten by on the kindness of strangers, or by whatever he could scrounge up at whatever pub he managed to step a foot in. Or at the household of whoever’s mother he managed to bed. You, on the other hand, have more experience learning to cook for yourself, even if it’s by using the bare minimum. But settling down in an actual brick-and-mortar home means better chances of acquiring spices and seasonings! Really, though, Jaskier just loves that it was made with love. Because that’s the best ingredient of them all!

Thank you for your patience!

[bouldershima]

alright listen,, i gotta say sumn and ya’ll are gonna have to accept it i don’t make the rules

thigh men aren’t to be confused with ass men okay, these men specifically will absolutely lose their minds if you got a lil jiggle to your walk

so to the thick and chubby queens, we eating well tonight 😌💅🏽

warning: suggestive content, mentions of impact play (bakugo), uhhhh borderline nsfw but not quite

Top 3: Thigh Lovers

BNHA

Mirio

Bakugo

Kirishima

Honorable Mention (HM): Aizawa

Haikyuu!!

Bokuto

Nishinoya

Aone

Honorable Mention (HM) : Daichi

Mirio

aha so here we go sunshines

even when he was a 3rd year at U.A., mans was strong n buff

and like periodt because he worked hard to achieve his goals and make with what he had

so even as an adult, he is a whole man and a half

which is only a benefit since mirio is 100% a flirt, no critisim will be accepted

and boy does he love making you flustered 😃

at any given wake of day, he can and he will elict a reaction out of you

wait this is about thighs, hold on

okay so his lap is honestly your throne, it is what it is

he really loves how plush they are and he will squeeze them without warning

he just loves a handful of thigh whenever possible

we all know he’s very direct as well, so if he wants something from you, he will ask for it no hesitation

his face is definitely your throne as well

when you cuddle, thighs resting on his waist is a non-negotiable requirement

and if you just have one of those days where you’re feeling a little less than yourself?

this king will reassure you and caress your thighs as he does so

and if your thighs are what’s causing your distress???????? girl

you’ll definitely feel somethings that night, you’ll feel better about yourself, the butterflies, and sumn else

Bakugo

total thigh guy, there is no room for discussion. some may say he’s an ass man, but we all know what the real truth is

like the ass jiggle is great and all

but do you realize just how powerful the thigh jiggle is?? a confident thigh jiggle at that???

listen, anything you do with this man, if you’re doing it confidently you’d literally have him at your command

and i know you know this

regardless, one of the main reasons why he loves him a pair of thiccqque thighs is because he’s totally into impact play oop

yeah, so he loves smacking them and watching them jiggle

quirk enhanced spanks, definetly a thing with him

or better yet, marking them up and leaving reminders of who you belong to

lemme stop myself right there

now he’s not into pda much, but will occasionally have his hand on your thigh when driving or like sitting close

would 100% keep a hand on your hips if he feels threatened (bakugo language translation: jealous)

or. if he’s extra pissed then he would definitely grab a big ol handful of thigh as he brings your leg to his waist as he kisses you, with the other hand on the small of your back

don’t confront him about it though or else

Kirishima

oh where do i begin with this man

will literally be at your mercy if your thighs spill out whenever you sit down

you wearing pants? he’s staring. shorts? he’s definitely staring. skirts??? staring.

now if you hit him with the skirt + thigh high combo, you might just kill him

did i mention that his absolute favorite thing about your thighs are when they spill over, could honestly be with anything

especially with the thigh highs where it spills over the top?? yeah, you know what I’m talking about

h o w e v e r

if you have the audacity to pull up wearing just one of his shirts?? thighs exposed???? yeah, good luck

it doesn’t matter how tall or big you are, you and me both know this man is huge. he will ruin you

in a very loving and manly way of course ❤️

i did it again, let me stop right here

please let him touch your thighs casually too, he needs it to survive

like whenever ya’ll are chilling on the couch or cuddling, even in public if you’re comfortable with it

like he needs to have a hand somwhere on them, he’s very affectionate and this is apart of his love language

i really love this man

n e wayz, so here’s the rundown:

soft n’ plump jiggly thighs = happy kiri

soft n’ plump jiggly thighs with the thigh highs = feral kiri

i said what i said

Aizawa

alright so listen here kitty cats

he’s an honorable mention because i hc that he’s not 100% a thigh man, if that makes any sense

can’t really pick out what he is though, probably likes chest ass and thigh equally idk yet

anyways

like he loves them, but he’s not about to lose his mind like kiri type love, ya feel?

but. the reason why i chose him as an HM is because i 100% believe that this man will tie you up in his scarf AND will purposefully bind your legs in a way that there’s spillage in between

i don’t even know if this is making any sense but i have such a clear picture of this in my head

like rope is great and all, but his scarf has more surface area to it, so like it covers more which makes spillage easier?? i can’t believe i brought math into this

if you take anything away from this at all, let it be that aizawa will love how plush they are

he would totally also sleep with his head on your lap at any given moment, you cannot argue this

would also probably accidently graze his stubble against your bare skin one day

and then would probably continue to do it purposefully depending on your reaction

— - —

Bokuto

let’s get something straight here. you would be out of your damn mind if you thought he wasn’t gonna be on this list. it’s treason, your honor.

honestly, it’d really be you two crushing on each other’s thighs, and i think that’s beautiful

would totally stare and comment on just how much he loves them at every passing moment

would also try to touch them all the time. oh, and he’s totally into the hug where you jump at him and he holds you underneath your thighs

it actually boosts his ego and keeps his spirits high, so go ahead and do that whenever. 100% guaranteed to suppress emo bokuto

akaashi considers you a vital part of the team for it hfjdkdkd

but i know what ya’ll are here for

so sis,,,, sit on his lap, i dare you

just go ahead and sit on him and see what happens

if you think for even a second that he’d let you get back up, you really need to re-evaluate

you move those pretty lil hips against his thigh?? oh man

better yet, you guide his hands to your thighs as you ride move on his?? phew chile, yeah go ahead and cancel your plans for the week

all in all, very blunt and obvious on his love for your thighs and will make it known

Nishinoya

girlies,,, we all hc that this is our latin king, and i agree

and as a latina myself, i think i have every right to say that my latinx radar says he’s 100% a simp for thighs

this man is obsessed. you know what, that’s an understatement

he truly believes he was born into this world just to worship your luscious thighs

also would totally call you thunder thighs, but he means it in the most loving way

he may be on the thinner side (and shorter) than most of the hq bois but trust me on this, he can and will pick you up with ease

would also love to squeeze your thighs for no reason at all. i’m telling you, he really just loves them

would also beg you to suffocate him with your thighs

would say some shit like “breathing is worthless if it means I can’t have my face in between your thighs”

you might as well let him, he makes a good point

he’s definitely a biter. but you didn’t hear it from me

biting what, you may ask? i think we both know

anywho, 11/10 would let simp for my thighs

Aone

i swear nobody be writing for this baby, so i guess it’s my job now

the sweetiest out of all of these horn dogs

he just loves how soft they are, ya know?

this gentle giant adores the spillage too, but in a much sweeter way

like he finds it absolutely adorable, especially because it’s just so different compared to his own tall and sturdy figure

would have the prettiest blush if you told him he could lay on your lap

would also gently caress them if he’s cuddling you instead because he can’t get enough of how soft they are

he also likes the way they jiggle but he doesn’t know it yet

the second ya’ll start getting, ahem, intimate then he’ll find out real quick hfjsksmd

it’s like he’ll lowkey start out as a chest man, but then when he sees the glory that is your thighs, he’ll truly be a changed man

overall, 12/10 would bring home to meet the parents

Daichi

daichi queens,, come get your man because i gotta make a statement

so here’s the deal with the captain

he’s 110% an ass man, no questions asked.

you see, the thing is. yes he loves him some cake, but the plump thighs that come also as a result of said cake does not go unnoticed

he’s definitely an HM because he just loves how full your hips are

will automatically place his hands on your hips whenever you get close or go in for a hug. in public that is

in private, man’s hand doesn’t leave your ass. will literally refuse to rest his hands anywhere else like

you know what else he loves? that lil dance you do in order to get your pants on

i know you do it, it’s inevitable for us thick queens ✊😔

but that’s okay because that means he’ll totally help you. and by help, i mean he’ll help take them off

ya’ll will definitely be late a couple of times if you had to be somewhere

either way, you stay winning if this man steals your heart

[theartfuldodger26]

Bellamort for the ship meme

 Thank you @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask and apologies for taking me a month to answer - March has been... quite the experience.  But Bellamort exists to give us comfort, so let’s get crackin’!

who is more likely to hurt the other?

Voldemort can tear anyone apart with some well-chosen words (as we see Locket!Voldemort do to Ron), but he rarely uses those on Bella, because a. she rarely deserves to be humiliated like that, and b. he just wouldn’t do that to her. 

What’s more likely, is that he hurts her inadvertently, since he may fail to understand certain emotional needs that Bella most people have - a touch, a kind word after success, casual conversation over a cup of tea. In addition to that, Bella, who is obsessed with him and the position she holds in his eyes, tends to overreact to those “omissions”, getting convinced he ‘never truly valued her’ and he’s going to ‘kick her out any day now’. 

However, let us take a moment to note the day that Bella deeply hurt Voldemort: the night of her betrothal to Rodolphus, when Voldemort proposed marriage and Bella turned him down for reasons that, in retrospect, she finds ridiculous. 

So in a way, you could say that of the two, Voldemort is the brokenhearted one, even if it’s Bella who cries herself to sleep from time to time. 

who is emotionally stronger?

They’re both incredibly strong people. 

Voldemort pulled himself out of the gutter, basically raised himself and became one of the most powerful and learned wizards ever.

Bella survived fucking Azkaban, which is code for severe depression in HP-land, so all I can do is salute her and ask for her secrets. 

The answer is a little tricky, in the sense that Voldemort appears to be a psychopath, medically speaking, who are... resilient people emotionally, if you will. This means that an event that would have had a massive effect on a neurotypical person, say witnessing a murder or war, to him it’s very blunted or even irrelevant. This description is very vague and generalising, but it’s supported by a lot of evidence. In fact, psychopaths can’t really feel fear, because their amygdala is the size of a pea, so it’s not fair comparing his emotional strength to others. In fact, I’d add that since he’s not used to “negative emotions” like sadness and fear, if they happen, they’d be more devastating to him, because he’s never learnt to cope with them, like the rest of us do. 

Bella obviously has her own emotional/psychiatric problems, but I don’t feel comfortable making guesses, since I’m not a psychiatrist and she’s no textbook description of any personality disorder I’ve heard. However, she got an interestng upbringing, that trained her to be a person of importance. So I’d say that even after Azkaban and with whatever issues she has, she can still hold her own in a very difficult emotional situation. 

I realise I haven’t answered the question, because honestly Idk. Also, take with a grain of salt anything psychiatry-related I said, I’m no expert, merely done some research, which I’m regurgitating here. 

who is physically stronger?

Naturally, Bella. She trains a lot, does ballet (which is fucking hardcore, let me tell you), enjoys physical activities and martial arts. 

However, after Voldemort’s transformation, he’s got many of his physical attributes improved, like the cat-eyes that allow him to see in the dark and so on (been reading a lot of the Witcher series as of recent so there’s that too), so he’s deceptively strong and yes, eventually stronger than her.who is more likely to break a bone? 

Bella, 100% XD She’s in battle all the time, and when taking part in Voldemort’s magical research (which is their day-job, world domination is a weekend hobby in case you haven’t noticed) her motto is ‘safety third’. 

An interesting point tho. Psychopaths have no fear and low-impulse control if they don’t train themselves. Fear is useful, informs us of danger ahead, so I HC that young Tom/Voldemort broke almost every bone in his body at some point doing something really dangerous simply because he didnt realise it’s stupid - like, say, go down a fucking cliff with waves crushing at it. Now he’s learnt to control those impulses and polices himself when it comes to danger, so no more broken bones. who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

They’re both excellent at judging characters and have tongues that sting. Bella will rarely truly dare upset Voldemort, but she does love torturing him a little with  something silly and not-truly important, like refusing sex, or messing with his OCD by taking stuff from “their proper place”. She knows that there’s only few things that tick him off: his loss of power to an infant, death and the abandonment from his mother. And she’s not that sadistic to bring up that last one unless absolutely provoked. 

Voldemort can be a tease as well, but he’s too mature and dignified for such childish behaviour most of the time. who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?

 Bella apologises compulsively out of fear she’s lost him even for things that aren’t her fault, tho in her mind they might be. However, she’s stubborn too, so if it’s a petty argument she might not apologise at all. Shes a spoilt little rich girl after all ;)

Voldemort’s never apologised in his life and never shall say the words, but he will change his behaviour if he realises he’s been wrong, because it’s the rational thing to do- also Bella is supersexy when she’s angry, so he wants to fuck her and he needs to her to be accepting to that. who treats who’s wounds more often? 

Voldemort treats Bella’s wounds more often by default, since she’s the one out in the battlefield more often, and also can be clumsy and absentminded. And very rarely *trigger alert* she might self-harm. 

Voldemort not only gets hurt rarely, but he also views it demeaning to accept help, so he won’t even mention it if he’s hurt. Bella will find out by accident or because he’s in so much pain he can’t hide it anymore, and with scold him first, he’ll storm off, she’ll hunt him down, they’ll argue and finally she’ll heal his wounds (usually his back which hurts because he’s Tall^TM) and he’ll act like a literal cat during this, touch-starved as he is. who is in constant need of comfort? 

Right after Azkaban Bella is in need of a lot of care and comfort, understandably. Her physical and emotional problems are their reality for many months after her escape, but the physical ones mend themselves relatively quickly. She’s forever changed emotionally, again understandably, but I wouldn’t say she’s in *constant* need of comfort. In an AU where they win, she’s perfectly functional as his right hand woman and partner, with only the occasional problem. 

Voldemort needs to get through his tough, bald head that he deserves love and comfort like everyone else, but he’ll never get it, so, in the whole, it’s him I’d say. who gets more jealous? 

Interesting question, because fandom’s given so many answers relating to those characters, especially since Bella is married. Starting with this piece of solid information, I’d hazard a guess that Voldemort doesn’t care that much that Bella also sleeps with her husband from time to time - maybe it even turns him on and strokes his ego that she doesnt get all she needs from her legitimate, pureblooded husband. How he’d react if she slept with a random bloke... probably badly; tho I cant think of a situation where that’d happen. My Bella at least, doesnt sleep around. She might tease with her sex, but she’s a well-bred lady after all, who does what is expected of her. 

Voldemort, I HC, used to be a bit of a whoremonger in his youth; good looks, mummy issues and no emotional attachment are the ingredients for that particular potion. Also he might have also been overcompensating for the fact that he was unable to marry the only women he found worthy of him: his pureblooded classmates. So he’d show up with a different, gorgeous girl at parties, which drove child!Bella crazy with jealousy, since she was still out of the healthy sexual attraction part for him and never thought he’d notice her. She’d stalk him behind curtains and through keyholes, keep her ears on alert for when the adults talked about him etc. Poor thing was really tortured by it. But now that they’re adults and, well, in a relationship, she’s far too confident to think he’d seriously care for another woman; after all, half the time she’s not sure he truly cares about her, and she’s the person who’s been closest to him. 

One thing I forgot to mention about Voldemort’s jealousy, or lack thereof, is that Bella has certain emotional needs that he cannot serve, and I’m not talking about tenderness, because to some degree he can give her that, and it’s not the same with her husband anyway. No, I mean that Bella is a sexual sadist, who gets direct sexual pleasure by hurting people. Voldemort on the other hand, is not a masochist. Not that when they have rough sex/BDSM sex he’s never in a sub position, but he’d never just sit there to be whipped or something, it just doesn’t turn him on, and that’s totally fine. So they may invite a girl (and very rarely a boy) to join them, so that Bella can get it out of her system if the war is slow/over. Don’t ask where these people end up, just don’t hang your coat in the second floor closet is all I’m saying. who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 

Depends on the situation? 

Bella would NEVER abandon Voldemort in battle or for the Cause. In a Muggle setting though, if he pissed her off she’d totally walk out of the restaurant :P 

Voldemort would never walk out on Bella either, tho, would he? He’s devoted to her, plus he does feel like he owes her after Azkaban. 

The only concept I can imagine relevant to this is Voldemort saying something in his anger that he doesnt exactly mean tho it holds some truth in it, that hurts Bella so deeply, that she leaves, both out of spite but also because she thinks it’s the best for him. In fact, I have a very specific HC for this which takes place in the afterlife, after they;re both killed in the battle for Hogwarts, but there’s no time for that here. 

There’s also another thing, but it’d quite controversial. If you, like me, HC that Bella started training with Voldemort since she was a child, and entered a sexual and later romantic relationship with him while still underage, this means that she literally hasn’t been alone as an individual, ever. So there’s also the chance that she, after they’ve had a huge fight and he’s terrible with her, leaves so she can find who she is without him. *cue the tears*who will propose? 

Voldemort did propose, on the night of Bella’s formal betrothal. Very rude and uncourteous of him, yes, but it had to be the last minute for him to realise his feelings, because he only has one (1) brain cell that works part-time on the Emotions Department of his brain. She turned him down, because she was young, immature, didnt realise how deep her own feelings were (she believed what her mother told her, that ‘all girls fall for Riddle, it’s an infatuation, it will pass’), wanted the power, fame, money and public adoration that her position as the Black Heir brought, not to mention that she was loyal to her family and terrified since Andromeda had just eloped with Ted. So she broke his heart then, even if neither realised it. But they did continue with their affair, because that’s how it happened in the olden days if you had money and space. 

After the war is over, neither proposes. They talk about it as a given (Rodolphus has fucked off to study penguins in Antarctica) and only need to figure out the details: how public it will be, who’s invited, what titles the ceremony gives them and so on.  who has the most difficult parents?

Spoiler alert: Voldemort’s an orphan! 

Okay, so hypothetically speaking, had any of his parents survived and raised him one way or the other, they’d for sure be a handful. Tom Sr. is a posh bloke used to getting his own way and being considered special due to his status as a squire, so he’d be fucking pissed if he were introduced to a world where he’s not all the shit. Nonetheless, I’d hazard a guess that in the end he, Bella and her parents would get along well-enough; after all they’re the same sort of people. 

Merope, on the other hand, is a whole other story. In the most sensible AU, where she survives giving birth and raises her son but they’re still poor and she’s got trouble with magic due to the trauma of Tom Sr. leaving her, I think she wouldn’t like Bella at all actually. Because Bella is all she ever wanted to be: beautiful, wealthy, well-bred and shows it, and, most importantly, emotionally strong. So she pesters Tom all the time about how Bella is not ‘feminine enough’ in her behaviour, too outspoken, too bitchy, not for ‘her boy’. Tom/Voldemort gives exactly one shit about her opinion and moves on. 

In the canon universe, it’d be naive to say that Bella’s parents were into Tom, simply due to his blood status. In the longrun, however, I think they'd come to terms with it, and they remember how brilliant and ambitious he was in school, so when he becomes successful in life, whether in-universe as Voldemort, or Minister or whatever in an AU, they’re sort of okay with it. Idk if they hand over the Heir of Blacks title to Bella tho, their kids wouldn’t be pureblooded after all. who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

No one. Not allowed. Not happening. Ever. It’s not their thing, anyway. Voldemort will offer her his arm, like a gentleman, tho. :)

who hogs the blankets? 

Bella, especially after Azkaban. She sleeps with five blankets piled on top of her, has the fireplace going all year round and puts a warmth charm on the sheets. Voldemort doesn’t care. He experienced such cold temperatures in so little clothing as a child, that hot and cold make little impression on him; he even takes cold showers because it’s all the same to him. *sobs* who gets more sad? 

Bella. She overthinks everything. Did she disappoint him today? Yesterday? Tomorrow? Will she ever be the person she was before prison? Why does Cissy wince every time she sees her? Should she have had children after all? These and all sorts of thoughts race through her mind all the time, torturing her to no end. 

Interestingly enough, psychopaths in general dont get that sad, but Voldemort can be very... pensive. who is better at cheering the other up? 

Bella has a wicked sense of humor that only Voldemort seems to find hilarious (comments from other people include ‘disturbing’, ‘scary’ and ‘morbid’), and even though he’s rarely sad, he can be very very serious and in need to relax his body and mind. 

Still, Voldemort, the eternal student of human nature that he is, if he does notice that Bella is sad (which isn’t always because he’s... you know), knows exactly how to distract her, just like he can do with any other person. Just, in her case, it’s sincere. who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

No one ever hits anyone. Voldemort’s been beaten and whipped and flogged enough as a young boy that he wouldn’t do it to the only person he cares about in a non-sexy way, and Bella’s been raised to view such things as ‘Muggle animalistic violence’. She might bite him hard for fun, tho :Dwho is more streetwise?

This may come as a surprise to you because of my username, but Voldemort grew up on the streets in a  Dickensian world. He knows all the tricks in the book; in fact he created many of them. Bella begged him to take her along in his travels incognito, and not on these formal things she attends with her family, and he did, so she’s learnt a lot, but she’s very much a pampered princess. who is more wise?

Hmmm... Hard to say. They have their areas of wisdom and their areas of not-having-a-fucking-clue. Bella, for example, understands emotions better than Voldemort, because she actually experiences them. Jk, jk, but you get what I mean. She’s also more knowledgeable in certain magical things, that, for example, not all prophecies have to be fulfilled and that there’s so much magic that it’s pointless to wish to acquire *everything*; had Voldemort listened to her more often, the books would have been very different. 

Voldemort of course is much older and has more diverse life-experience. He’s also less impulsive in his older years than Bella; he can be the voice of rationality and reason if he’s not superobsessed with something; at which point Bella should remind him to take his meds, because they really do help with fixations. who’s the shyest? 

Neither, in the strict sense of the meaning. They both know what they want and they’re not afraid to demand it. In the end, it’s Voldemort who’ll never say what he truly needs and feels, though, speaking about their everyday life together, it’d be Bella who’d rather have more affection from him but is too shy to ask. But yeah, Voldemort, not because he’s shy per se, but rather in deep hurt and denial. who boasts about the other more? 

In the books it’s obvious that it’s Bella. However, Voldemort does this hilarious thing where he praises Bella in random conversation with other people without even noticing; like, he brings her up every ten seconds even if she’s barely relevant to the subject, so *shrugs* have your pick. who sits on who’s lap?

Nobody, because they’re both tall. Bella will straddle him even in a non sexual manner from time to time, and they often spend their evenings relaxing on the same sofa: Bella will put her legs on Voldemort’s lap and he strokes them absentmindedly (after all they’re superlong and soft and hot), and Voldemort, who refuses to nap in bed, might catch a nap with his head on her lap. The reason Bella doesn’t nap with her head on his lap is because he’s very thin and his femurs hurt her skull, when she’s got plenty of skirts and petticoats cushioning Voldemort. Finally, Bella often sleeps with her head on his chest, because his heart-beat, even tho abnormally slow, relaxes her panic attacks, after Azkaban that is. He will then stroke her hair compulsively - it’s a bit of a fixation of his.

Well,what a ride! Thanks again @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask, this was tremendous fun to write, especially after a very difficult month! And it did help put some of my thoughts on those evil babies in a row. Hope you found it entertaining! I get that those types of asks are usually made for monolectic answers, but yeah, explanations are better. If you made it to the end, dear reader, thank you very much for your time! 

[jabbers-written-world]

Jabber’s Writings

Blossoms of the Heart

All right, ladies and gents and nonbinary friends! As it stands, I am currently beginning work on a novel series called Blossoms of the Heart. I don’t know how many books will be in the series. I don’t know how many of you will be interested. I don’t even know how this series will end! But guess what. That’s where you guys come in.

Blossoms of the Heart is planned to be a series of novels surrounding the female lead. Princess Alyria of Belanor. She is nineteen years old, and her father King Aldric has sent her to live at the secluded family estate, far away from the castle. Now, you may be wondering why he would send his daughter away. Is there a threat? Did she anger him in some way? Perhaps he’s ashamed of her behavior? None of these, my friends. The plot here is something far more interesting and exciting.

King Aldric has sent Princess Alyria to live in the family estate, alongside fifty young men all vying for her hand in marriage. Yes, that’s right. King Aldric has sent his daughter to live with her suitors, for as long as it takes for her to finally choose a husband. Now, this may seem like unfair treatment, to leave his daughter alone with fifty young men all competing for her. It even seems like it could be dangerous. So many possibilities for what may happen if these gentlemen are left unchecked, with only the princess.

Well, that’s just it. Alyria has insisted to her father that she would rather marry for love, than just for politics or because she’s told to do so. So, he is letting her make her own choices, and get to know these young men on her own, so that she may possibly fall in love with one of them, and finally take a husband. To protect their family line, and so that he no longer has to worry about what will happen to their kingdom when he is no longer there.

Oh, and don’t worry. She isn’t left alone with just her suitors. She has all of her most trusted attendants and staff right alongside her as well. All of these individuals are present for her protection, her support, and to ensure she is well taken care of while she is away from the castle. All of them as well, are people her father trusts most with his daughter’s well-being. And they are as follows:

Harrison, her direct attendant and confidant, as of the last seven years. He is elusive, and hardly shows his true feelings, but he is the most capable individual of all the staff present. In a test years ago to earn a place attending to royalty, as is Belanorian custom, there was no one who could compete with this man.

Devon, her favorite cook who has a mysterious way of knowing all that goes on around him, despite rarely leaving the kitchens. He’s a riddle, inside a puzzle, wrapped in a mystery and bound in an enigma. He tends to keep to himself and not cause much trouble, but there are others who seem to want to cause trouble with him.

Elias, the groundskeeper she adores dearly and who manages the horses, though for some unknown reason he doesn’t dare enter the estate unless absolutely necessary, and it could be due to what seems like a secret feud between him and Harrison.

Haru, the secondary captain of her father’s guard who she has known since they both were children, and who so often is like an older brother to her, especially in the way he teases her and even perhaps bullies her a little.

Crosjando, the weaponsmaster who has taught her self-defense and genuinely cares for her safety, and who also manages the excess energy of the suitors by keeping them busy in the training yard.

Gintoki, the king’s advisor who has been lent to Alyria in case she may need his input on these matters (don’t worry, he has another he can rely on back at the castle), and while he may be a bit of grump, he is calmed by his cat and does genuinely care about the princess despite his gruff attitude. Though, he too may have a bit of a feud, and his is less than secret.

Rowain, the king’s most loyal soldier who has also been lent to Alyria for her time at the estate. He is bound by an oath of honor and a life debt to serve King Aldric in whatever his wishes may be, and he is genuinely loyal to the man, and to Alyria. He is her greatest asset alongside Harrison and Gintoki.

Vasha, the djinn that was once given to King Aldric as a gift but instead bonded to Alyria and so now follows her everywhere. He’s mischievous and clever, and more than a little prideful, but truth be told, what djinn isn’t? He doesn’t always obey Alyria, and instead prefers to tease her, but she trusts him with everything. More so than anyone else.

And of course, Alyria has a few maids and housekeeping staff around the estate as well. Which is of course beneficial, since her male attendant Harrison cannot accompany her for certain tasks regarding her privacy. It would be far too indecent to have a man assisting the young lady in bathing or changing her clothes. And that is why the female staff are present for such things. Still, they all report to Harrison, as he is head of staff.

Now, that brings us to the suitors. Fifty young men of all sizes and species, and varying ages, and they are all vying for Alyria’s attention. Some are more polite than others, some are crude, some are lords in their own right, others are of the more common people. The king left it all up to Alyria to decide, and so did not discriminate based on class or species, especially considering that Alyria herself is half-fae. That being said, let us discuss these young men. They are as follows:

Adam, the quiet and loner-ish half-Minotaur from Kalein. He is 21 years of age, and due to his Minotaurian heritage, he has been largely discriminated against. Even King Aldric was hesitant to allow him as a suitor, but gave in with only one condition. If Adam could defeat the strongest castle guards in fair combat, then he would be requested to protect Alyria and stay by her side even if he doesn’t win her affections. Adam agreed, and defeated the guards with barely any harm done. Only minor scrapes, and nothing at all that painful. He treated the men with kindness in battle, and intentionally did not hurt them. He only subdued them, and so has been allowed as one of Alyria’s suitors.

Aden, the charitable half-elf from Kalein. 19 years of age, he is genuinely kind-hearted if perhaps just a little reckless at times. But what he lacks in impulse control, he makes up for in generosity and.. perhaps a little too much honesty. It may be a benefit that he’s as straightforward and direct as he is, even when admitting to his feelings, or it may be off-putting and drag him down instead. Aside from that though, Aden is always willing to lend a hand, to anyone who needs it.

Aladi, the enthusiastic Ha’adani tailor with stories to tell. Also 19 years of age, Aladi has an abundance of energy and good cheer, even if there is a hidden darkness behind it. He has his secrets that he’s hiding behind that smile, and it isn’t just that he used to be a thief. Still, he’s kind and always there to help cheer someone up. The problem is that he has fast hands and a fast tongue. So, by the time Alyria or anyone else may have caught up with the conversation, he’s already taken measurements and mentally chosen fabrics.

Alekai, the younger of a pair of half-demon brothers from Tesak. 19 years of age, Alekai can be considered the more mild-mannered and sweet-natured of the two brothers. He’s often the one apologizing for his brother Eivan’s temper, and is more adaptable and not quite so stubborn. Still, he blames himself for the injuries his older brother sustained on his behalf, and if he could turn back time and fix it all, he would. He loves his brother, but he worries that the elder of the two hates him and blames him for all that happened.

Archer, the gluttonous demon monkey from Belanor. Like quite a few of Alyria’s suitors, he is 19 years of age and full of life. He’s stubborn and a bit of a hot-head, and honestly, he thinks more with his stomach than with his head. He’s an honest sort, even if he is a little slow on the uptake from time to time. He loves to eat, and will happily do so all day, but don’t think he can’t defend himself. Oh, and don’t ask why he’s a monkey without a tail, he doesn’t like to talk about that particular incident.

Arten, the chivalrous knight of the Belanorian guard. 23 years of age, and one of the older suitors at the estate, Arten has actually known Alyria, or Lia as he calls her, for a good portion of her life. Orphaned at a young age when his parents were killed by undead, Arten trained to become stronger and specifically, to fight the undead. When he was sixteen, he offered his services to King Aldric, who.. at first didn’t take him seriously. But when a roaming skeleton attacked the king while out on a hunt, and the creature was quickly dispatched by Arten, King Aldric gave the young man a high honor, and of course made him a member of the guard.

Avis, the ever-praised phoenix of Ha’adan. 21 years of age, and raised as a god. Avis knows he isn’t truly a god, but all he has ever known was growing up in a shrine in Ha’adan, and told he was their god. He has no knowledge of where he really came from, but he knows he isn’t of Ha’adani heritage. Recently, he left the shrine to venture out on a sort of pilgrimage to hopefully find answers, though he is a bit shy when meeting new people. However, while roaming Belanor, he took one look at Aurelia and was infatuated.

Balthazar, the gentleman dragon of Belanor’s seaside. 19 years of age, Balthazar comes from a long line of dragon chieftains, but he was separated at a young age from his clan and instead found himself washed up on the shore of an abandoned shipyard. He has tried over the years to find his clan again, only to learn in recent years that they had all been slaughtered. So he is the last in his line, and it is up to him to carry on their heritage. Upon discovering he was the only one left, Balthazar at first attempted to throw himself into the sea in a fit of despair, but he was rescued by an avian Beast named Marius. The two have been friends ever since, though Marius may deny it. Still, Balthazar knows. They are definitely friends.

Bartleby, the feral but friendly Beast of Belanor. 21 years of age, Bartleby used to be a pirate plundering ships on the high seas. It was a good life for him, but it wasn’t meant to last. A wild storm, coupled by an attack from a serpentine sea beast, and Bartleby washed up near-dead on the shores near the shipyard that had by then become a permanent home to Balthazar and Marius. And with Balthazar’s soft spot for broken things and people, the bear-like Beast was nursed back to health. But no sooner had he recovered and gotten back on his feet, when he was abruptly arrested and thrown in prison for his crimes against the Belanor Empire. He was set for the gallows, soon to be hanged until dead, when Balthazar once again came to his rescue. To this day, he still doesn’t know how the dragon pulled it off, but now he is utterly devoted and loyal, and where Balthazar goes, Bartleby goes.

Blaine, the not-so-angelic angel from Oslana. 18 years of age, and with a bad attitude for the record books. Blaine is far from being the most angelic of angels, and his black wings have nothing to do with it. For one thing, he actually can’t fly. His wings were badly broken when he was a child, and never quite healed the same. But the fisherman who raised him has always done his best. However, now that there’s a dire shortage in Oslana, Blaine has reluctantly come to Belanor to ask for aid. Though, he has yet to actually ask for it. Instead, he set himself as one of Alyria’s suitors, perhaps to gain her assistance first before discussing the problem with her father.

Caine, the blinded serpentine blacksmith of Ha’adani heritage. 20 years of age, Caine has only live in Belanor for the last five years. Before that, he spent much of his life in slavery in the deserts of Ha’adan. He was born to a slave mother, and so has never known freedom until he escaped while in transit to a new master. Surviving on his own has always been difficult, after he was blinded at the age of two, but for a naga at the size he is now, it’s gotten even harder. Still, he made his way to Belanor, and found work for himself as a blacksmith. But when he heard of the call for suitors, well.. he figured why not give it a try.

Cale, the young lord from Oslana. 19 years of age, Cale does his best to be a kind and forgiving person, but he does have a bit of a stubborn streak. So while he is always willing to help out, he may have his own opinions about how things should be done. And he will stick to them. Now, of course his father sent him to court the princess of Belanor, simply for the money and political power that could be gained from the union. Cale, however, has his own reasons for courting Princess Alyria, and his are genuine and honest, and only for the sake of love.

Dantalion, a demonic prince of Belanor with a darkened past. 22 years of age, Dantalion is polite and charismatic, but his life hasn’t really been quite as charmed as a prince’s should be. But of course, demonic politics are those of a separate realm, and so may not always be acknowledged by those living across the veil. Summoned by a warlock and bound to the man, forced to call him ‘master’, Dantalion has been wretchedly abused for years. Only recently was he finally able to escape, and he ran straight to the king, setting himself as a suitor to the princess, citing his own nobility as the prince he truly is, and if all goes well, the warlock who he is still bound to will be dealt with, and he can truly be free again.

Dezimir, a flirtatious Pennari from Roveska. 19 years of age, and very confident in himself. Not many know what a Pennari is, as they are only found in Roveska and some small islands off the coast of Kalein. They are unusual to say the least, and could even be mistaken for elves. Except.. for the tail. And the fact that they tend to be a little broader and even more lanky than elves. The species runs to tallness, and has one very particular trait that is genetic to the breed. Addiction. But not quite in the way anyone might think. Pennari are often more likely to be addicted to an activity, rather than substance. And Dezimir is no exception. His addiction is somewhat more lewd than he probably should ever admit in front of the king, but at least it boosts his confidence. And his flirtatious charisma. But everyone should be careful if he is forced to go too long without tending to that addiction.. Because he can, and will, turn dangerously feral and could cause serious harm, only by pure instinct and a genetic code in his very existence.

Eivan, the elder brother of the pair from Tesak. 21 years of age, Eivan is stubborn and has a very short temper. Also, it probably doesn’t help that he’s actually shorter than his younger brother. And the fact they’re both half-demons certainly doesn’t do him any favors either. Still, he would do everything in his power to protect his brother from any harm that may come to him. And the proof is in the prosthetic arm and leg he has, from an incident in which he defended his brother from being attacked by a monstrous beast. And now, in recent years, he and Alekai have been forced to flee their home, and they settled in Belanor, trying to start their lives over again. And now, hearing the call for suitors, they’ve realized there may be something they can do, for all those like them.

Elliot, the Doomwood mage of Belanor. Everyone knows Doomwood Forest is a place of nightmares, but the people who live there either had no choice, or they settled there to protect the rest of the kingdom. To keep the monsters at bay in the forest and prevent them from spreading across the rest of the kingdom. Elliot is one of those people. Training as a mage, he does what he can to keep the spectres and ghasts and undead, and all manner of monsters from leaving Doomwood. But he’s still training, only 18 years of age, and all he could do for now was to cast a barrier spell over his hometown, hoping that it’ll defend them, and keeping the monsters interested long enough that he can get help, and better training in the capital city. However, his plan was somewhat derailed as he developed a crush on the princess, and so now is among her suitors trying to win her affections.

Ferrin, the half-fae swordsman of Oslana. 19 years of age, Ferrin is not quite all he seems to be. At the surface, he is stubborn, blunt, and confident, even occasionally a bit too confident. But he does know when to back down and when to shut his mouth. He’s not the idiot he occasionally pretends to be, and he is loyal to those who earn it. He appears as a wandering swordsman, roaming the land with no ties to anyone. But that is far from his real story. Truth be told, Ferrin is actually a prince among Fae, but being that he was only half-blood, he was deemed unfit to ever inherit the throne, and was cast out, his memory of his heritage erased. He feels drawn to Princess Alyria, though, like she might have the answers to fill in the blanks he can’t remember.

Ferris, the boisterous Kaleini pirate of the high seas. 20 years of age, and already captain. Ferris started out as a cabin boy, and worked his way up the ranks faster than anyone had ever seen. And when the previous captain was lost to a sea monster attack, the crew was left without a leader. And they chose Ferris. Even men older than him who may have deserved the position in their own right, chose the wild and adventurous young man to lead them to glory. Which worked out for the better, seeing as he lost a leg in that same attack, now living with a prosthetic in its place. He’s been captain for four years now, and now he’s suitor to the princess, alongside two other members of his crew.

Garrick, the second-sighted scaredy-cat from Doomwood Forest. 20 years of age, Garrick has a gentle and kind heart and he’s even perhaps protective of those who need him to be, but he’s also so easily frightened that he may even burst into tears if he’s scared badly enough. Like Elliot and Arten, Garrick comes from Doomwood Forest, born in one of the two known towns in the woods. But he wasn’t born like the others. They can see the physical monsters, and perhaps they know of the rest. But Garrick can see it all. Spectres, ghasts, spirits and all other creatures otherwise unseen. As a young child, he watched his family get carried off by spectres and dragged deep into the woods, never to be heard from again, except for the occasional lingering screams. He has recently come to King Aldric for help, but was distracted as he found himself infatuated with the princess, and just seeing her made him forget his fear, if only for a while.

Geilver, the second son of a Belanorian lord. He was not the one who was intended to be suitor to the princess. His elder brother was the one their father would rather have sent, but as the elder of the two happened to be away on an overseas journey, Geilver was instead the one sent to court Princess Alyria. He is 21 years of age, and is actually rather overconfident, even perhaps to the point of mild narcissism. And he likes to talk, especially about himself. Still, underneath all of that bravado, is an uncertain young man who is deeply loyal to his brother and would like to see him home safely. His father sent him as a suitor for the politics of the affair, but Geilver just isn’t interested in that side of it.

Ifari, the mysterious fae of Ha’adan. His age is a mystery, and really all that is known is his species and his gender. Very few have even seen more than his eyes, his face usually covered by a cloth mask. He is actually the advisor to Prince Rukh, and followed him to this whole affair if only to keep the poor-tempered prince in check. But.. now he too has made his own decision to court the princess. And no one knows what reason he may have for it.

Karval, the foul-mouthed troll from Teris. 16 years of age and the youngest of all the suitors, Karval fled his home country and didn’t stop running until he collapsed in Belanor. His breed of troll is unique only to Teris, and they are hunted for sport, like they are no more than animals. Karval lost his parents to hunters at a young age, and was forced to survive on his own, dodging all manner of dangerous people and animals. He has had a few close calls though, and even he feels it’s a miracle he’s even alive today. Nursed back to health by a kind Belanorian duchess, she has more or less adopted him as her unofficial son, so to speak, and it was she who sent him to court the princess, telling him that if he can gain influence with the royal family, he may be able to use it to change the way things are for his people.

Kin, the devilishly clever kitsune mercenary from Koshima. 21 years of age, Kin is a mercenary who was hired by a lord in Belanor to guard his home and possessions. However, the lord thought little of him, and refused to pay Kin what the job was truly worth, instead only offering the barest of bare minimums. Offended by the man’s rudeness, a state no one should ever want a kitsune to be, Kin simply left the man to fend for himself, instead roaming the kingdom looking for work that would actually pay. When he heard of the call for suitors to the princess, he joined among them. For even if he isn’t chosen, he may still offer his services to protect the royal family.

Lowell, Belanor’s free-spirited bookkeeper. 19 years of age, and.. only technically a bookkeeper. Truthfully, he’s the old man’s apprentice, and he’s easily distracted from his real work. It’s that that led him to become a suitor to the princess, believing in his own charms to help win her over. However, his teacher almost didn’t allow him to do so, reminding him that their work was far more important. But, after some persuasion, they came to an agreement. If Lowell does not succeed in this endeavor, then he will return to his duties with renewed diligence and will never stray again.

Lyric, the patient and watchful nymph from Umai. 18 years of age, Lyric is a lotus nymph who grew up in the lotus ponds and the shade of their trees, in a monks’ temple in Umai. While he isn’t actually a monk, he enjoys their companionship and finds comfort in following their teachings, and joining them in meditation and prayer. They are his family, and he is their beloved lotus child. It was they who sent him on his worldly journey when he was of age, as all monks must do, and that was how he discovered the princess and her father’s call for suitors. But he has to be careful. As a nymph, he can’t venture too far from his source without risking his life, and so to travel, he carries a piece of home with him. A lotus seed, tucked carefully in his pocket. But he may die if that seed gets lost, so he needs to watch his possessions wisely.

Marius, the wild and aggressive avian Beast of Belanor’s shores. 21 years of age, Marius has a foul temper and an even fouler attitude. He’s not fond of most people, and usually minds his own business, acting as lookout around the shipyard and guarding Balthazar from harm. Together, the two of them fixed up the yard and made it livable, even perhaps functional as a proper cargo dock too. Except Marius’ attitude does tend to scare away potential customers. However, he has his reasons for being aggressive, though he won’t speak about it to anyone.

He was once a brawler in the arenas, enslaved in the underbelly of Belanor’s darker districts. He was forced to fight for his life, and was the reigning champion for quite a while before he was finally defeated, and tossed to the streets, left to die from his wounds. However, he was found by an old man called Magnus, who returned him back to proper health, and taught him how to work in the shipyard. But when Magnus was killed in an attack from raiders, the loss shattered Marius. He became foul-tempered and bitter, and he returned to the arenas with a renewed vengeance. But he wasn’t a slave this time. He was free to come and go. And he did leave after a while, only to return to the shipyard on a whim, and that is when he saw Balthazar, and made his own private oath to always protect him no matter what. So now he’s followed him all the way to become a suitor to the princess. Go figure.

Mikhael, Oslana’s feline farm boy. 22 years of age, Mikhael is generally friendly, though he can occasionally come across as rather forceful and aggressive, being rather loud on occasion and bearing a pretty bad temper. Sometimes that temper causes him to storm off in a fit of rage, especially if he has repeatedly failed at a task. He can be kind, however, and also has a great sense of humor. Which, actually helps considering his start in the world. Abandoned as an infant one stormy night, he spent the entire night in the rain, shivering and hungry, only to be found the next morning by a farmer and his wife. They quickly adopted the young feline Beast, and raised him as if he were their own. Now he’s a grown adult, and he does well in keeping pests out of the barn, and works hard to help his father tending the fields. But.. Well, he isn’t entirely sure how he ended up as a suitor to the princess of Belanor, but that isn’t to say he entirely minds.

Montague, the cursed son of a Belanorian lord. 17 years of age, Montague was probably not his father’s first choice to send as suitor to the princess. But, similar to Geilver’s situation, his older brother was not available as an option. So, the lord sent his unfortunately cursed son. Montague was cursed as a young child, after he managed to offend a witch living in the woods. Now, when he gets too excited or angry, or is incapacited and weak, Montague transforms into a river otter, and he has no control over doing so. Only time will tell how this will work out. But at least he’s a friendly sort.

Nathan, the feline member of Kalein’s pirate crew. 20 years of age, clever and quick on his feet, Nathan is never short of something to say, and he certainly puts on a show of confidence. Of course.. That confidence is mostly fake. He has been on the pirate ship he calls home since he was two years old, and has actually never set foot on land. This is uncharted territory now, and he has no idea what he’s doing. He just followed his captain, and may or may not have taken interest in the princess himself as well. But.. hopefully at least Ferris knows what he’s doing.

Niklaus, Roveska’s best kept secret. His age is a mystery at this point, even to him. But he is more than certainly a gentleman, polite and mostly keeping to himself, except to restlessly roam the halls at night. However, to those he does encounter in the night, and in the moments around dawn and dusk, he is charming and dignified. He became Princess Alyria’s choice of his own accord, and perhaps simply out of curiosity, but truth be told.. He hasn’t done this sort of thing in 200 years. Niklaus is a vampire, and one of the oldest still existing in Roveska. After a storm of raids on vampire castles, the slaughter of many by overconfident vampire hunters, Niklaus and a few others are now kept secret under the protection of the Roveski government. But.. Niklaus apparently no longer wants to stay in hiding.

Nora, the dragon bookworm from Teris. 18 years of age, and with quite a story to tell, Nora is one of only a few on the outside now that is privy to one of Teris’ darker secrets. While things may seem rather pleasant on the surface, at least if you aren’t a Terisian troll, underneath all that charm and political majesty, there are prison camps in Teris, where the Crowned Prince or.. someone who may simply look eerily like him, has been throwing all those who he disagrees with or simply dislikes. Until a few months ago, Nora was trapped in one of those camps, until he and three others managed to escape. The rest have gone into hiding, but Nora is looking for help. Setting himself as suitor to Belanor’s princess, this may be the most strategic opportunity to gain aid from Belanor.

Orson, the wild and untamed bear warrior of Belanor’s forests. 22 years of age, and barely more than a feral animal, Orson comes across unfortunately rather aggressive, pushing and generally being a rather physical individual, he is actually rather sweet and loving, but.. Well, he comes by it honestly. He was abandoned in the woods as an infant and expected to be eaten. However, instead of devouring the human child, a mother bear who had recently had her own cubs simply adopted him and raised him like her own. So Orson was raised in the woods by a bear, and as such is the case, he’s unfortunately rather disconnected with civilized society and is easily confused. No one is sure how he got the approval of the king, but having recently ventured into town, Orson has become suitor to the princess, largely due to an interest in learning human courtship, and curiosity about her as well.

Pallum, the winged loudmouth of Kalein’s plundering pirates. 18 years of age, Pallum generally comes across as a very angry bird. He has a quick temper, and he’s very loud and aggressive when he’s upset, but he can be calmed as easily as he’s angered. This little harpy has a lot to compensate for though, considering he’s a runt. As such is the case, many adult harpies in his clan tried to simply kill him, seeing him as useless because he was so small. However, Pallum survived every attempt on his life, until he was simply exiled instead. And that was how he made himself at home in the crow’s nest of a pirate ship, and quickly earned his place as the barrelman. And now that his captain and another member of the crew decided to court the princess of Belanor, that’s what he’s going to do too.

Pteryn, the littlest angel in Belanor. 17 years of age, and largely considered a runt among angels, he’s determined to prove all those who doubt him wrong. He’s stubborn, and a little bit naive, but he has a kind heart and is always willing to help. He is just as trained in combat as any other angel his age, even if they might have tried to stop him from training at all. And now he has pledged his life to King Aldric, in addition to becoming a suitor to the princess. All to prove himself just as strong as any other.

Rai, Oslana’s wandering warrior of the demon sword. He is 19 years of age, and he was human once.. But he has since become a demon of rage and hate. He comes across as cold and unfeeling at first, but he is actually surprisingly agreeable, and even friendly. Perhaps a little forceful with his friendliness, but it is only because most of his emotions have been suppressed by his sword. He gets easily frustrated, or angered. Most of what he can feel is anger in some form or another. Still, he is usually understanding if what aggravated him was an accident. But beware if he is intentionally crossed, for he will be on a very dangerous warpath.

He has been an orphan as long as he can remember, alongside his younger sister, and together the two of them struggled to survive on the streets. At least, until they were called before the Prime Minister. They hoped that perhaps they would be saved, and something would be done for the starving children in the streets. But they should not have hoped at all. His sister died only a few weeks later, and Rai barely made it out with his life, only to find his way to an old and long-forgotten battlefield.. Where he found the Azel Sword. He took hold of the weapon, and his life was forever changed as he was twisted and warped into something no longer human. He is out for blood now, vengeance for all wrongs that had been done to him. And yet.. Maybe Princess Alyria can soften this tormented soul.

Reiss, Kalein’s most stubborn half-fae. If anyone of these suitors could really be considered a wild child, it’s this 17-year-old. He comes across as rude and even inconsiderate, but truth be told, he doesn’t actually know much of human culture, as much as his family may have tried to teach him. He was orphaned at a young age, and was instead raised by the mountain trolls near Roswater. They tried their best to teach how humans live, and even about fae. But there wasn’t much they really knew either, so it was difficult for him to learn. Instead, he lives as the trolls do, hunting and foraging alongside them, even joining in the occasional playful wrestling match.

Recently though, he has set out from home to venture into the world and learn what he can. Or.. rather what he has interest in, which unfortunately isn’t much that would actually help him in the societies outside his home. But, due to a growing interest in Princess Alyria, perhaps there is some hope for him yet.

Rukh, the winged prince of Ha’adan. While his age is unknown, he has lived much of his life praised and practically worshipped. He is a very rare being himself, named for exactly what he is. A rukh. It is due to his existence being seen as a blessing, that he has known nothing but praise, and so he has turned out rather spoiled, and rude. No one has ever told him ‘no’, and so he has a bit of a foul temper whenever someone tries. Only one person has ever been able to get away with it, and that is his advisor, Ifari. And now, at the suggestion of Ifari, Rukh has left his home in order to learn more of the world, and in doing so, he has insistently set himself as one of Princess Alyria’s suitors.

Sadir, the silent warrior of the Ha’adani deserts. There isn’t much known about Sadir, not even his age. All that is known is that he is a half-demon, and he is a rather reclusive and elusive individual, even with all his curiosity. He typically keeps to himself and very rarely speaks, even when spoken to. He often comes across as somewhat gloomy or melancholy, but if asked, he won’t say much more than that those who come near him will only get hurt. Still, for whatever reason that is known only to him, he has come to play suitor to the princess.

Sindar, the charming Ha’adani sailor of the high seas. 23 years of age, and practically swimming in his own charisma, Sindar is the type of individual many young men dream they could be. He is a man of courage, of charm, and of independence. A free spirit living his life upon the seas, a new adventure has been brought to his attention, by a very particular tailor in the bazaars of Ha’adan. Now, he is a suitor to the princess and ready to sail those uncharted waters.

Sun, Umai’s most mischievous monkey. 19 years of age and ready to face the world, Sun is an energetic young monkey Beast with what he considers a great sense of humor, even if others may disagree. However, beneath his carefree attitude and his penchant for mischief is an anxious and stressed young monkey who would do anything to keep those he cares about safe. Though.. that may be on the more difficult side.

Sun was one of eight children and his life started out happy. Until their town was raided and he and his family were sold into slavery. He put up with years of abuse before he was given a chance to escape. He broke loose, but turned back to save his family too. However, his mother shooed him away, telling him to just run and not to worry about them. If one of them was free, that was all that mattered. So he ran. He ran as far as he could, only stopping to rest when he couldn’t bring himself to go any further. He became a brawler in a few underground arenas to train himself so that he may one day save his family. Now, he’s become a suitor to Princess Alyria, with the hope that she and her father may give him the help he needs.

Taeval, the last of Kalein’s oldest breed of dragons. 20 years of age, and the last of his kind, no one is quite sure where Taeval came from. He is a gentle soul, however, calm and respectful. He is always there to support those who need him, traveling only to learn what he needs to and to help where he is needed, before disappearing again to return somewhere else. However, now something has drawn him to become a suitor to Belanor’s princess, and no one is exactly sure what that might be.

Takhal, the prideful and spoiled Oracle from Ha’adan. 18 years of age, and somewhat of a spoiled brat, Takhal has been praised from his early years and onward, which has led him to be rather arrogant and even childish. He boasts about his accomplishments, and how powerful of an Oracle he is. But.. little does he know, he was kidnapped in infancy as part of a far greater plot. And underneath his bravado as well, is a scared and lonely child. But he saw Princess Alyria in a vision, and now has come to understand why.

Titian, a fierce Norland warrior with a dangerous curse. 21 years of age, and he is already as foul-tempered and bitter as an old man with too many bad memories. But there is a reason for the aggressive way he behaves. Titian is under a curse, and so is possessed by a spirit of anger, turning him into a Berseker. The only emotion he is allowed to feel much of is anger, and so he comes across fairly aggressive and rude.

But the truth is that he’s looking for someone. The man who raised him in place of the parents who bore him. After an attack on their hometown, by soldiers who claimed to be from Belanor, the only father Titian has ever known has disappeared. So now he has come to Belanor, both to seek out his father, and to get vengeance for the attack on his home.

Toris, the sweetheart of Oslana with a dark secret. 21 years of age, and generally rather shy and gentle, Toris seems utterly harmless, and for the most part he is. Except for one tiny detail. He has in fact killed a man. But of course, as with all good murder mysteries, there is more to the story. Toris was a slave for many years, shuffled from one lord to another and to another, and he had even just simply grown used to it. Or at least.. he thought he had. As his last master was dealing out punishment yet again, something inside Toris snapped, and he murdered the man in a fit of rage. Now he has fled to Belanor, and perhaps the princess can find a way to help him.

Vince, Princess Alyria’s oldest friend. 19 years of age, and another one who comes across somewhat aggressive, the truth is that Vince is lonely, and he has a lot of trouble expressing it. But it’s no wonder he is the way he is. His birth was an accident, and his aristocrat mother immediately decided she wanted nothing to do with the half-troll monstrosity she had given birth to. She ordered her servants to get rid of the infant, and they would have.. if they hadn’t fallen in love with him themselves. Still, they knew they couldn’t keep him, and so took him into the forest, giving him to a troll woman who was out foraging for berries.

She gladly took him and raised him as her own in the troll village that was her home. But, despite all the love she offered him, Vince knew he didn’t fit in there. He remained lonely and misplaced, even venturing to the edge of the forest to look upon the estate that belonged to the woman who had given birth to him. Several times when doing so, however, the woman caught sight of him and sent her hounds to chase him off, not even knowing that he was her son.

At some point while he was young, Vince happened to encounter Princess Alyria and her father, and the two have been friends ever since, ultimately growing up with each other. And now that he’s heard King Aldric calling for suitors for Alyria, Vince is determined to win the heart of the only one who ever made him feel like he truly belonged.

Warren, the changeling child that replaced a Belanorian lord’s son. 19 years of age, and a bit pushy and snappish, Warren is a tough nut to crack on occasion. He comes across as rude and self-centered, and is generally fairly difficult to get along with most of the time. But the truth is that he is deeply insecure and very sensitive to insults. While he was raised as the son of a Belanorian lord, the truth is that the real son of the lord was stolen as an infant, and replaced with the changeling child that is Warren.

However, Warren genuinely believes he is the lord’s son. He knows nothing about changelings, and the lord as well is unaware of what Warren is. As such is the case, when Warren’s form shifts even a little, it makes him panic and he believes it’s some strange disease that flares up from time to time. So, he mostly tries to ignore it, and now, of course, he has been sent to court the princess for the sake of politics.

Yukito, the lone warrior from Koshima. He is 21 years of age, and he generally comes across fairly moody and lonerish, even perhaps a little cold and unfriendly. But underneath it, he does actually genuinely care about others and would give his life to protect everyone around him. He is diligent and hard-working, and very loyal despite his grumpy attitude. Whatever drew him to court the princess of Belanor, though, is something only he knows.

Yuri, the Belanorian noble that grew up on the streets. 18 years of age, and fairly confident in himself and even a bit flirtatious, but.. could that be just a front he puts up? Nah, couldn’t be. Or.. could it? Yes, it is. The youngest in a family of ten kids, Yuri was mostly ignored as a child, and so developed a bit of a habit of showing off just for the attention. However, when he was about ten years old, his home was raided and his family scattered. He has no idea where any of them are now, and since then, he grew up mostly on the streets, learning to cheat, gamble, and steal to survive.

He’s been arrested several times for his thefts, somehow managing to talk his way out of most of his possible punishments. Still, he’s stolen a few too many things by now, and was set for execution. Except.. he was recently pardoned by the king, who saw that the young man still had some good in him, and had hope he could be rehabilitated. Now, Yuri has set himself as a suitor to the princess, hoping maybe she’s that rehabilitation the king wants from him.

Zoroaster, the mercenary from Teris. 20 years of age and highly trained with a sword, Zoroaster spent most of his life at sea. He hardly knew his own parents, and was instead raised by a crew of naval warriors from Norland. However, his ship was recently sunk by pirates, killing most of the men on board, and so he has lived ashore in Oslana for the past year. Training himself further in swordsmanship, he is now nearly unrivaled with a blade, and he has come to Belanor now, as suitor to the princess, and to offer his services in her protection.

Zuri, the naive Beast of Ha’adan. 21 years of age, and a member of a rare clan of Beasts known as Bengalit, Zuri is.. Well, he isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, to put it lightly. He’s easily trusting of most people, despite what his best friend Sindar may tell him. He can of course defend himself if things turn out wrong, but he likes to look for the good in everyone, really. He trusts Sindar with his life as well, and will follow him to the ends of the earth, which.. is of course how he became a suitor to Princess Alyria as well.

[sohnserif]

To the boys who taught me life | Compassion - Xiaojun

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice of life, Coming of age

Words: 1.2k

[Playlist]

[Preview] [Compassion] [Love] [Hardwork] [Hope] [Selflessness] [Self love]

#1. Xiaojun taught me compassion

Summer break projects and assignments have always been a pain in the ass for me. And I considered the best was in avoiding them at all cost. In the midst of busy school routine, toxic social life and having a hard time pleasing my anxiety, I found myself in a trance. I dwelled where everything seemed slow, hazy and meek.

My life was not as interesting either. A couple few of get-togethers here and there, high school reunions and watching my school mates achieve what I could've. Had I been a truly hardworking girl and not procrastinate like it was the only option left. In conclusion, My life was a wreck. I fished out my phone from underneath the thin sheets hastily dialing Xiaojun's number.

My best friend, Xiao Dejun.

Dejun and I had met each other on our first day at college. True, it was hard adjusting to the new life. Especially since I was an American Native who had zero to no fluency in Chinese.

The huge gates of Wuhan University Welcomed students from all walks of life. Yet the subtle signs of elite remained behind those large iron bars painted in golden. My first round trip to the office and back to the registration kiosk had been a bitter ride. Cue the incompetent google translate and my stubby legs which I guess was what caught Dejun's attention.

His silent introduction in broken English managed to make a smile creep on my face. Since then, we became inseparable - like toast and butter. His little efforts one by one made me smile each day amidst the bustling schedule. He indeed was a man of great deeds. Helping the ones in need, by every means he could. Somewhere in his eyes, one could see the determination and passion. A promise made out of love for humanity: something Dejun believed in.

He picked up the call after a few rings.

"Hello?" His tender voice danced through my ears. It was always this soothing, like an angel reading the epistles.

We would usually talk about food and how much one of us needed cuddles. It was always the same each time. And just like every one of those little efforts, he would willingly crash in my room with, like he said, lots of love, food, and warmth.

But this time, he spoke out first.

"I need to tell you about this amazing community work. I'll reach there in a few minutes." And with that, he ended the call leaving me hanging. I sighed and stood up walking towards the kitchen to get myself some water. My little cat following me close behind. I lived in a small apartment just some few blocks away from the university. But since Dejun lived in the dorm during weekdays, I was left all alone by myself within these four walls.

I went back to my room and turned on the music player, casually shifting between my bed and the window. The front door clicked open and I knew it was him. He eventually entered the room shoving himself in with a huge grin plastered on his face. He smiled at me and pulled me on the floor to sit beside him to which I happily obliged.

"So how's it going?"

And there went the drill.

We talked the whole day about the summer and our plans together. He wouldn't stop chattering about the community service and how joyous he felt. Talking to the little kids and teaching them some chords in his six strings was indeed something he had grown fond of.

That was Dejun.

His childish yet determined words made me laugh in amusement. He asked me if I wanted to join him at the center assistance, to which I declined right away. But he just wouldn't stop convincing me (and maybe threatening our friendship). After hours and days of him pressing me, I eventually agreed. That day, he might have smiled the brightest.

So, as the weekend came by, I had no option but to tag along the early morning. And he, like the child he was, happily agreed to escort me to the library as a reward for my hard work.

The small white building was surrounded by thick and lush bushes on its four sides. Small kids were running around playing, some were singing songs or painting. It had a pleasant atmosphere and was indeed a place where one could find solace and comfort. The occasional chirping of birds and the blowing wind added to the ambiance. You could say, it was love at first sight. The day started with the morning's prayer and children joined their tiny little hands, praying to God for the good days to come.

Dejun casually settled down on one of the white benches and shot me an eager smile. I nodded looking back at the group of visually challenged kids who were seated before him.

"So what if one cannot see? Music connects hearts."

Dejun would say looking at me with a challenging expression often hard to decipher. But you could always see a hint of sadness in those deep-set eyes as he talked about the orphanage.

His fingers strummed the strings as he sang some old hits. His voice cried hope, despair, and mercy. He was an empath. He never failed when it came to loving others with all of his heart. He truly provided without expecting anything in return. That was, in his own words, how a man delivered his deeds in secrecy. He was different from all. He was self-sacrificing when it came to providing faith and care.

The children swayed and hummed along with him beaming joyfully. One could never not smile at this beautiful sight. Those little things he did, the smallest effort that often went unnoticed, was his true love towards mankind. The way he smiled his biggest when he helped others whether in need or as a deed, all those little things added up to a big heart. It made me realize how a small change could bring a big difference in this world. After all, underneath different skins, we bleed the same blood. The blood which needs and wants to be loved, taken care of and heard.

Our stories might be different. But you, me and a small hope of faith can make this world a better place. You just need to hold onto yourself. For it's your race and it won't end till you win it.

The wind blew softly against my bare neck as Dejun's mellifluous voice danced in the air. The cold walls of the orphanage filled my heart with warmth. It was the warmth it had never felt, the warmth of true love: self-denying and altruistic.

That day, I learned how to be compassionate.

If you are wondering what it is that you call true love. It is when you love everyone selflessly. Regardless of their color, race, identity, and creed. And When you are compassionate enough to be self-sacrificing.

And if you know this language of love, it's all goodness you're destined for.

[rachelking2819]

Jumanji: The Next Level

Welcome to my first review! I had a lot of fun writing this and watching the movie. Read my thoughts below and let me know what you think. Did I miss anything worth mentioning, let me know!

SPOILER ALERT  SPOILER  ALERT  SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER  ALERT  SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT  

Jumanji: The Next Level is the sequel to 2017’s Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. The movie stars the familiar faces from the first movie, but we meet some new as well like Awkwafina from Crazy Rich Asians and Danny DeVito known for Matilda and Batman Returns, more about them later.

The movie follows Spencer, Martha, Fridge and Bethany back into Jumanji. They are not the only ones there though as Spencer’s grandfather Eddie and his former friend Milo are also transported into the game. To once again exit the game, they must complete the next level of Jumanji, hence the title.

The movie starts with the four friends from the last movie in four different places getting ready to go home for the holidays.  Everyone seems excited to go and meet up, except for Spencer who seems miserable in New York. Upon arrival his mood doesn’t get any better. The night before he is supposed to meet Bethany, Fridge and Martha, Spencer decides to fix the old gaming console which got destroyed in the previous movie and goes into Jumanji. Breaking his promise to his friends to never go back. Later in the movie Spencer explains that he went back because he wanted to feel like Dr. Braveheart again, have no fears and be confident. I can get that, but that is hardly the way to go about it. The last time he got stuck in the game it almost got him killed and they were with four then. Also do not forget about Alex, he was alone and stuck for decades, unable to move forward in the game until the group of friends came along. So that Spencer thought it to be a great idea to go into the game alone???, is above me.

Anyway, while Spencer is playing Dora the explorer, Fridge, Martha and Bethany meet up and discuss Spencer and Martha’s relationship which has become a situationship as to neither knows what the situation is between them. Previous movie ended with them as a new couple, now though they are together but haven’t spoken for a while. At this point I almost rolled my eyes, thinking this was going to be some melodramatic subplot. This was luckily not the case. While there is a noticeable awkwardness around when they see each other for the first time in Jumanji, it is not something that is shoved in our faces and highlighted again and again. It is quite funny and fitting to their personality with the side-eyeing and the respective signature awkwardness. One could call it adorkable.

The official make-up talk/reunion happens about 20-30 minutes to the end on the side of a steep mountain. Let me paint the picture. In order to escape Jumanji, the final level is to get a jewel from Jurgen the Brutal. He is the main antagonist and stole the jewel from some sacred villagers. The jewel is what keeps Jumanji looking alive and beautiful and keeps the soils fertile for good harvests. Back to Spencer and Martha. To get to Jurgen’s fortress they must climb an icy mountain. On the side of this mountain, nowhere near the top, they find it appropriate to have a talk about what has been and why. Like really? Time is ticking y’all, everybody and their mom is counting on you to climb that mountain and execute your part of the plan, nobody has time for this. Finally, on the mountain and inside the fortress they share their signature “do-not-know-how-to-kiss” kiss, which made me chuckle.

Well, since I have mentioned Spencer and Martha’s first meeting in this movie, I might as well explain that Spencer was not in the body of Dwayne Johnson’s Dr. Braveheart. Instead he was a character we hadn’t met before yet: Ming, a cat-burglar and master lockpicker. Actress Awkwafina did a great job portraying Spencer as this character. With the nervous talking and twitching, it was no mistake neurotic Spencer was stuck as Ming instead of the presumed Dr. Braveheart. At some point it is possible for the adventurers to switch character by jumping in some magical lake. This is where Grandpa Eddie and Spencer switch character. Grandpa Eddie who was earlier Dr. Braveheart, now possesses Ming’s skill set. Again, Awkwafina shows what great actress she is as she takes on the persona of the older man.

Of course, the performances of the other actors can not be ignored. Dwayne Johnson portraying Grandpa Eddie was for sure very funny. Kevin Hart portraying Milo as Mouse Finbar has had to have been one of the highlights tho. Milo is known to be a very slow talker and gets to the point whenever he feels like it. I had genuine belly laughs anytime this character spoke. Also, Johnson and Hart together makes for a great duo every time. Jack Black applause to you once again. I believe that in your previous you were a gangster jock, not taking ish from anyone. Loved your portrayal of Fridge. Black was also iconic as ever as he brought out his inner teenage girl. Karen Gillan did not have much new going on, so she was just as great as she was in the previous movie.

Black also gave me the most relatable scene ever. Seeing as Fridge is a college jock and cannot handle not being able to move as fast as he normally does in the body of professor Shelly, he decides to do burpees to work on his characters stamina. Well three guesses as to how that went… The most dramatic burpees I have ever seen. But if I said “that ain’t me”, I’d be lying.

My only irritation on Grandpa Eddie was that he gets cocky almost every 5 minutes and therefor puts everyone in danger. I mean I get it, who wouldn’t get cocky when in control of such a powerful character as Dr. Braveheart. But when everybody is telling you to stay put and not make a scene or to run because that guy is your weakness, you better do what you have been told. Less fuss that way and everybody lives. But now, thanks to you everyone has lost a live, bringing them to one or two lives each.

Action wise, this movie really knew how to pace it properly. Every time you just feel the urgency of the situation, which I kind of missed last time. The very first action sequence I already knew that this movie was a step up from the first. It had beautiful visuals and the urgency just hit differently.

Talking about visuals. Wow wow wow, such beautiful sights in this movie. The movie takes us through the desert, an oasis, a little bit jungle and snowy wastelands and mountains. The settings were truly a sight to behold.

Also, the movie brings you heart and emotions aplenty. Now when I say this I am probably exaggerating, ‘cause I’m that overemotional. I could be watching a thirty seconds clip of a baby laughing with their parent and I am done for. While it wasn’t exactly waterworks, I did need a moment to compose myself. Especially when Milo told Eddie that he is sick, does not have long to live and that that is the reason he came to visit Eddie after decades of not speaking to one another. I hate these kinds of plots. They get me every single time. Aside from the potential tearjerker, the four original friends share a few heartfelt moments and are like “you are perfect as you are”, not those exact words, but you get it.

After rescuing Jumanji once more, the group of seven (Alex was at some point also part of the rescue op in the game) gets ready to leave Jumanji behind and never return. However, Milo wants to stay following his impending death and wants to see so much more in life. Again, a part that made me choke up a bit.

Now finally home sans Milo, the initial meet-up continues. As the day ends, the group of friends is met with a herd of ostriches like the ones they encountered on Jumanji running through the streets. And this is where the movie ends, giving as the assumption for a next movie where Jumanji comes to the real world.

Overall Jumanji: The Next Level is a fun movie for families. I personally liked it more than the first movie. Lots of laughs and action, that’s always a win for me. Almost made me cry, but that is not a difficult task. Casting keeps being great and great visuals. The first movie I thought was eyerolling funny, filled with dead jokes and overacting. That is why I didn’t have very high hopes for this one, but I went anyway because I was curious for the way it was showed at the cinema (ScreenX: all-round screens in the theater). This movie has certainly exceeded my expectation and I am glad it did. Definitely one I will be recommending to others.

What did you think of Jumanji: The Next Level?

‘Till Next Review!

[scriptmedic]

How to Prep for NaNoWriMo

(Or, How I Wrote 30,000 Words in 4 Days to Finish a Novel)

Hey there Scriptaccinos! Welcome back to Aunt Scripty’s House of Mayhem, where we’re getting ready for pumpkin lattes, candy corn, and NaNoWriMo! 

People have asked me more than twice about how I manage to be so productive. I work a full-time healthcare job, and yet, in the last year, I’ve created (85+%) or curated (~15%) over 2,000 blog posts, published 3 books, and written at least 200,000 words of personal writing.

I’m not a superhuman. Actually I’m pretty average. And I’ve set myself an enormous personal challenge — write a trilogy of fiction before the end of 2017. While blogging. And helping you all with NaNo.

On the most recent note, I came into October with 18,000 words of a novel written. I wrote the last 30,000 words and finished the project in four days, while answering bucketloads of blog questions (the last 10 days worth of content was also written in that timeframe), contending with a mild fever, and Life Stuff.  Oh–and I’m about 14,000 words into Book 2 already.

I have been accused of being a machine. I assure you that beep boop boo–

….uh oh. Who found my secret pictures?!

And yet the number 1 request from my readers is the desire that I clone myself. If only I were Tatiana Maslany…

You don’t have to do all the things I’ve been doing to hit those levels of productivity. But a lot of you are doing NaNoWriMo, and I want to give you some advice for how to Get It The F*** Done, Mate.

I’m also going to give you the techniques I use and some of the books that I’ve read that are helping me along the way. I’m constantly striving to improve how much work I get done with the same measly 24 hours as anyone else.

Defend Your Time

Everything demands your attention. Work does. Your cuddlemate(s) do(es). Your TV calls to you. YouTube beckons with lures of dancing cats. Tumblr will eat your soul if you allow it to. 

…establish a writing time. Get up an hour early. Stay up an hour late. Do it on your lunch. Whatever it is, establish a time and defend it. Tell your honey “This is my writing time. This is important to me. I need it.” Sacrifice some TV time. Writing Time is sacred. If you use headphones, put a Post-It on your headphones that say “Writing. Please Do Not Disturb.” (Yes, it’s dorky, but it will work.)

If you need to be in a different physical space to write, go there.

You also have to defend your time from yourself, more than anything. Set an alarm on your phone: This Is Writing Time.  Turn off your internet. Silence your phone. And, once you’ve started writing, put it in another room — or at least out of your sight.

You’ll need about an hour and a half every day for this. Ninety minutes. If you can work for 90 minutes a day, six days a week, you can write this novel in a month. (I actually recommend seven days so you don’t lose momentum.)

If your day is jam-packed, decide what’s truly necessary, and what can be smooshed out of the way to make room for your writing time.

Techniques: The Pomodoro

By far, writing in sprints is the number one way to get your stories done. But word sprints are an art form. They need to be done in a special way.

The point of a word sprint is this: For 25 minutes, you will do nothing but write. Phone Off. Butt in chair. Hands on keys. Write.

The best way to do this is to set a timer on your phone for 25 minutes. (If your phone lets you set up multiple ones, like mine does, set another for 5 minutes; you’ll use this when you’re done with your Pomodoro to take a break.) Don’t listen to music that has words. If you can, I actually recommend putting your phone in another room so that you have to get up to make the beeping go away.

For those 25 minutes, you can do nothing  but write.

When you’re done, I want you to tally up the number of words you’ve written. (I just make a note in Notepad or StickyNotes on Windows with: Starting Wordcount, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. Track how many words you write in each Pomodoro. (It takes about 4 seconds with a Calculator app.)

NaNoWriMo means writing 50,000 words in 30 days, which is scary. But a smaller target is 1667 words in a day. Still daunting? That’s fine. Do 3 Pomodoros with a target of 650 words per 25 minutes. That’s 26 words in a minute, and it will take you an hour and a half to do three of them. (If you can, I highly recommend 4 — I find the 4th Pomodoro is where I start to hit my stride.)

For productivity stuff, I recommend [5,000 Words per Hour] by Chris Fox; you can get this book for free from [his Web site].

Make It A Game.

Humans love games. Our brains think they’re better than crack. Seriously, Mrs Scripty has been playing hours of Bejeweld Blitz lately.

So make your word count a game. How many words did you do in your last sprint? Let’s top it! What’s your strongest day in the month? Top it! Push yourself to write more and write faster. You’ll get more into the zone and sooner than you think you’ll be blinking and going “Wait… did I just win NaNoWriMo?”

Know What You’re Going to Write (Before You Write It)

This is so important. I cannot even begin to tell you how much this helps. If you want to write quickly, this is how you do it. You plan to write, and then you write the plan.

Whoah! you say. Outlining?! you say. I’m a pantser, like my aged grandmother before me! We don’t need no stinkin’ outlines! 

You might not need them. But they help. Especially in a project like NaNoWriMo, or mine (12 Weeks to a Trilogy), knowing where you’re going will help you decide what matters and what has to get written.

I recommend [Take Off Your Pants!] by Libbie Hawker, [Outlining Your Novel] (and the Workbook) by K M Weiland, and [Save the Cat!] by Blake Snyder.

If you plan nothing else about your book, I want you to plan three things:

The Inciting Incident

The Midpoint

The Climax

Do not skip the Midpoint. It will help you. I swears it. (The Midpoint is a big change that causes your character to take things seriously; it’s the big Shit Hits The Fan moment of the middle of the story. It’s a huge false victory or false defeat.) Then all you need to do is get to the next big scene: Write from the “hook” to the Inciting Incident, from the Inciting Incident to the Midpoint, the Midpoint to the Climax, and resolve all the little things after. That’s it. Four easy phases.

A Basic Scene Structure Helps. Really.

A scene is a product of six components:

A Goal — what your hero wants

Some Obstacles — what gets in the way

A Disaster — something catastrophic happens that prevents them from getting their goal (or lets them get what they thought they wanted — for an enormous price)

The character’s Reaction — how they feel about it

A Dilemma — what do we do now after that Disaster?

A Decision — a plan for how to proceed.

That’s it. And the easiest, most helpful thing you can do before writing a scene is give just one sentence to an outline of what you want. Six sentences will get you so far in knowing where you need to take your scene.

Let Yourself Write Shit

First drafts are made to be awful. All of writing is rewriting. You won’t write a good first draft in a month. But guess what? All a first draft has to do to be perfect is exist.

Small Tricks That Really Help:

Research Before or After, Not While, You Write. You don’t have to know everything in the moment. If you need to research something — a gun type, a character’s favorite car, whatever — just [put it in brackets]. You can come back and work on those later.

TK will TKO Your Interruptions. The letters TK are an editor’s mark for To Come. Like brackets, they are magical. Not sure what to name the whizbang gizmo? “Stop or I’ll destroy you with my [gizmo TK].” And move on.

Eat the Elephant Bite By Bite. You’re not writing a novel and you don’t have to write 50,000 words this month. You’re writing one scene, and you’re trying to write 800 words this Pomodoro. That’s it. Miss your 800? Hit it next time.

Take Walks. Your 5-minute breaks between 25-minute Pomodoros? Use those to physically get up and walk around. Don’t stare at the Internet. Go up and down some stairs or go stare at the sunset. Get away from screens.

Leave Tags. When you stop writing, stop in the middle of

a sentence. It makes it so much easier to pick up momentum when you sit down again.

Watch The Movie and Write It Down. It can really help to just picture your scene in your head like a movie, again, before you write. (You can watch it on Fast Forward.) When you sit down to write, just write what you see.

Defend Your Space. Make your own little world. Put in headphones or earbuds and listen to music. I try to either use something appropriate and ambient (like wooden ship sounds for a pirate story) or music set up to be productive (like this upbeat productivity mix).

BONUS!

For all your Scrivener users out there, I made an outlining Scrivener doc!

It has:

A Foolscap outline (to help you with global structure)

Integrated Save the Cat! beat sheet cards (to help you figure out where things belong) with word count targets for 60k, 80k, and 100k projects

Obligatory Scene lists for Thrillers, Redemption stories, and Love stories

Scene cards which include the six-phase scene structure up above.

It’s what I’m using to write the novel I’m currently on, and I think it will help you out. [Here’s where you can download it.]

Also, the structural cards are separate from the Manuscript for the document so that you don’t wind up with random things in your exported ebook/docx/whatever.

[Download It Here]

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

[10 BS Medical Tropes that Need to Die Today]

[Maim Your Characters: How Injuries Work in Fiction]

[Blood on the Page Volume One: A Writer’s Compendium of Injuries]

How to Prep for NaNoWriMo was originally published on ScriptMedicBlog.com

[nezothecat]

Chapter 16

A week had gone by in the blink of an eye, and Naell had spent most of his time either in the library, or accompanying Lily and the young owl to play. All his preparations were done by his attendants as his little sister would not leave his sight.

The morning was mellow as they stood at the gates of the Beryldot household. They were now patiently waiting for the two Owls, as they went ahead to prepare their nest inside the carriage.

Naell's thoughts by then were filled with fond memories, all from the months he had spent with his family.

"Brother, don't go..." insisted Lily who was crying and grabbing his arm. It really was an emotional parting, as it was time for him to study in the capital.

"You know I have to, dear sister."

"Then, let me come with you."

Naell then kneeled down to comfort his sniffling sister. He then calmly said,

"Dear sister, if you go with me, who will take care of our parents, and even our household?"

*sniff*

Naell then added on, now slightly grinning as he knew he was winning their battle.

"Can you do that?"

"Hmmmph! Sometimes you are being unfair Brother."

"Hahaha"

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Lily called out to him once more, holding up a hand as she lifted her pinky.

"Send me many letters brother..."

"It's a promise." Naell replied, holding his end of the bargain with a pinky swear.

Seeing the warm and loving interaction of Naell and the pouting Lily, was a cute sight to behold. Fharom, Lilia, and Sebastian, could only hide their feelings of gloom beneath their cozy smiles.

"Naell, take care of yourself out there."

"Thank you, Mom."

"Son, you can always write to us if you are in need of money. It would bring shame to our family if you somehow went hungry. We are nobles afterall."

"Do not worry, Father. Besides, I have your recommendation letter with me."

"HAHAHA ! With Andrea and my signature alone, you won't even be needing Fha--- Baron's signa---" But before Drew could even finish, an annoyed Fharom immediately cut him off.

"Why are you even here, Drew?"

"To see Naell off, why?"

Fharom could only sigh. Seeing the lovey-dovey couple who were both busy, but still went to see Naell off, was heartwarming. Yet, because he was quite a tsundere, he wouldn't show it off.

"Still--- Sensei, Father, Uncle and Auntie, thank you for the signatures." Naell as he stood up, bowed down to them. He was really glad to have those signatures as it would help him skip some procedures in the Adventurer's guild.

Naell's plan was to work and independently earn some money, as he did not want to burden his family. Nonetheless, his father would still send his monthly allowance.

"Nell, just give them that letter okay? If that old fart is there or anyone messes with you, I'll go to the capital myself!"

"..."

Naell could only wryly smile at Andrea's words. He remembered how Andrew and his group in the novel became celebrities, all after having brought the signatures of his two well-known parents to the Adventurer's Guild.

"Yeah! Me and my wife will---"

*cough*

"---HAHAHA ! I mean take care, Naell."

"Hahaha yeahhh, take care, Nell."

Fharom smiled with approval. He was glad with how Sebastian could silence the lovey-dovey couple.

Sebastian then turned towards his student as he said warmly,

"Naell, as your teacher, I'm very proud of you. Please accept my gift to help you in your travels."

Sebastian with a [ poof ] gave Naell a weapon: a staff carved out of dark elven wood. It had a simple yet elegant design with the intricate markings of elven language. Naell held the weapon in his hand in awe as he spoke.

''This... Thank you, Sensei."

There are three primary weapons that mages use; a Wand for amplifying one's mana, a Cane for controlling elemental magic, (which is useful for mages like Sebastian, who has inferior wind magic) and a Staff to lessen the burden of magic from one's body. Of course, there are mages who do use unconventional weapons or none at all.

"And here's ours!" Pridefully handed the blaring Drew.

Almost in an instant Naell felt a hint of relief, as he held onto the unusually bright ornament.

What Drew and Andrea gave was a bracelet of white-gold rings, chained together forming what was better known as 7 days.

"Thank you, Uncle, Auntie."

"Nell, I hope that'll help you, as it can lessen the burden on your body when using high-level magic."

"Ahhh, that's why... I'll treasure it well, Auntie."

Andrea and Drew were pleased upon seeing that Naell liked their gift. Yet their glee was cut short by Fharom's interruption, as he then held out his gift.

"And this is ours, Son."

As Naell opened the small box, he was greeted by the slight glow of a ring.

"Father, Mother, and dear sister... Thank you so much."

Naell was quite happy with all he had received, especially the spatial ring his family had given him.

He recalled what he knew of the Spatial accessories. Based on the novel, they were advanced storage systems that could give a separate space inside the user's chosen accessory.

Naell once more eyed the items he now possessed. He could not help but feel that all of their gifts were chosen out of care. After that, the young master became more determined to live his slacker life with them--- his family, comfortable as well.

As they heard the gallops of horses, they saw the carriage slowly closing approaching them.

While it was not that extravagant, it easily gave the impression of a noble's carriage. Not to mention, both doors of the umber-colored wooden carriage were etched with the snow crystal sigil of the Beryldot household.

As the door opened, two owls emerged from the carriage, immediately flying towards the group. Soon, a young man was hurriedly walking behind them.

"HOOT! Hey, don't cry, Lily! I'll be with your brother, so he is well protected." Said the young owl while puffing his fluffy feathered chest.

After the initial meet up, Athena and his son were welcomed warmly by the Beryldot's household.

At first, Naell was really displeased by the young owl's attitude. Yet little by little, it went from unpleasant, to him feeling he had a feisty cat that with all the attitude, still had to be loved.

Not to mention, Naell understood how powerful and helpful the owls were, as after having a portion of his magic sealed, the heavy burden he once felt was gone.

"Thank you, Owly." Lily hugged the little owl that all of a sudden, went silent. When Fharom introduced the two owls to his family, Lily went ahead and called the young owl as Owly. Little by little, the young miss and the young owl became the best of friends.

"..."

In truth, Owly wasn't pleased with the name, but since he was not strong enough to name himself, he thought it wasn't a bad idea to be named by someone else.

Fharom approached the fluttering Athena as he politely asked,

"Will you be staying in the capital, Lady Athena?"

"Hoot, I probably will not, as I'll be travelling east afterwards."

"Then I hope the carriage is to your liking."

"Hoot, it is. Thank you for your hospitality and for accepting my request, Baron."

Fharom, Athena, and Sebastian were in deep thought as they were gazing at one another. They could not help but recall the conversation they had.

"We believe that the demons are trying to resurface to the world, Hoot."

"That's impossible... but if that's the case then we should unite and elimin---"

"Baron, at the moment, we cannot trust everyone. Rest assured, as one of the 12, I'll make sure to prevent this catastrophe, Hoot."

"May Aurora guide you, Lady Athena."

"May Magi lead your way, Baron."

A small built man with kempt black hair, stood straight and bowed to them. Sebastian then approached the man and spoke,

"Serve them well, Mr. Lebrut."

"I will do my best, Sire."

Butler Lebrut was assigned to accompany Naell and Owly to the capital, and like Sebastian, he wore a standard butler attire matching his brown seemingly hardworking eyes.

"I'll be in your care, Mr. Leb."

"Ah! Same as well, Young master!"

Mr. Lebrut had known Naell for 5 years, yet even though he had changed, the young butler was still afraid of him.

"Shall we go now, Young master?" Lieutenant Estra was the leading knight that was tasked to guide the carriage. Two knights would also go with them to the capital, with one being the coachman.

"Still Naell, why don't you just go to Arigare and apply there for your adventurer's card? I heard rumors that the tests are more difficult in the capital." Asked Lilia who knew it was more practical, as she also knew that the capital was brimming with applicants.

"That's--- There is no need Mom, as it is my dream to apply in the capital. That will not stop me from accomplishing it!" Naell could only fake his excitement, as he couldn't say how much he truly feared the Dukedom of Arigare.

Naell was truly disappointed when he learned that the guild's application could only be processed in the big city. That was why the Beryldot's guild could only give missions and house a few expeditions.

"You wouldn't know Lila~, but it is always a dream of a future adventurer to apply in the capital!" Andrea was the one who explained how absurd it was, yet she couldn't deny how even they were like that in the past.

"Oh! I guess it is like drinking tea from our favorite place, no matter how far it is, we still go there."

"Hehehe, that's right~"

When Lilia and Andrea were together like that, the residents of Beryldot often found themselves soothed from the beauty of the two.

On the other hand, Fharom and Drew's get-togethers, (like at the moment) were often disastrous, as it always was with childish bickering at best.

"By the way, son." Fharom quickly dismissed his nagging friend's words as he handed out a different letter to Naell.

Naell noticed that the letter was formally prepared to be sent out to a Marquis, but what made it surprising was the question of why.

To: Marquis Metero W. Star

Naell knew of the Star family. They were a well-known power in the capital, having produced multiple widely known high ranking adventurers.

Fharom misinterpreted Naell's confused face as an expression of complication.

"I know... Even I am not fond of them. But neither Lilia nor I have any relatives, while you do... And I'm sure Alicia would have wanted to at least have her son be acquainted with her relatives."

"..."

Naell then realized the slacker life he wanted to have, was still so far from his reach.

[fordarkisthesuede]

JOURNAL 3 BLACKLIGHT EDITION REVEALED! (Part 3)

Oh boy. This is it. The final stretch.

A New Concern: “What if he wins? It is a thought to horrible to imagine, but imagine it I must. If Bill succeeds in opening the gateway between worlds, it will result in an… Odd-pocalypse? Weird-mergency? Unsual-tastrophe? No matter. If the big day arrives, coming up with a catchy nickname for it will be the least of my worries. To prepare for this worst-case scenario, I have begun stocking my old research bunker with supplies, rations, and weapons. I also tried to choose which theoretical physics books would be most fun to spend 50 years rereading, but they’re all so great I couldn’t decide!” [Picture of the Unseen Eye with the caption “Saw this symbol again recently!”]

Hiding Spot? page:  “In case of catastrophe.” [The tree leading down the bunker is shown, with a staircase winding around it to the roots, with “danger!” pointing down, ending in a rectangle with “prepare for the end” inside.] “LAST RESORT – hopefully cryonics have sustained. Watch out for Shifty.”

Page left of Security Room:  “I need to stop spending time down in this bunker. I was reprogramming my security code when I could have sworn I heard someone speaking to me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I suppose I was voted “most paranoid” in junior high, bt I thought I had gotten over that phase. Then again, maybe that’s what people wanted me to think:  that I wasn’t paranoid anymore so they could start plotting against me, plotting to take my precious thoughts, my MIND-thoughts! Okay, I’ve been inhaling bunker coolant for too long. Going up for some air now.”

Security Room page:  [it now says “Security Code” and has the four buttons to open the bunker highlighted and numbered.] “If I forget this, I’ll be taking a trip to the FIRST dimension!” [There’s a picture of an exit door with “don’t forget!” pointing at it.]

Bill’s Teacup page:  This one’s unusual. “One of Bill’s friends… Where have I seen him?” The face is so normal that I can’t really say who it could be. Seems masculine? I mean, my best guess is Alex, but who knows for certain…?

[Edit, 4/26/18:  I kept forgetting to fix this bit, but this is a reference to the “Have You Ever Dreamed of This Man?” hoax! Thanks to everybody that pointed it out! (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) ]

The machine pages:  “The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is TOO POWERFUL! The device if fully operational could”

My Muse Was A Monster page:  All the eyes drawn here glow in the dark. It looks just as creepy as you’d imagine – especially the big one. It also says “Laseep”  “ELPH EM” “sit lal vero” and “rutts on eno”. This is just normal English with rearranged letters, so it says “Asleep”* “Please” “HELP ME” “its all over” and “trust no one”.

*in my defense, I was sleepy when I first unscrambled the words, and I peeked at that “Can’t Sleep!” page...guess I knew what was on my mind that night :/

Bill Cipher pages: Spanning both pages:  “If he gains physical form then all is lost!” Left page - “If he entered our dimension, what form would he take? Flesh and blood? Metal? Vinyl? Spandex? Would he be a suave, well-dressed, possibly British man in coattails? Absolutely unequivocally not. Bill is a screeching, senseless lunatic. By best guess at his physical form is something like this.” [arrow points to Ford’s idea of Bill, which is like a triangle-shaped meatball with his eye and a strange large mouth]

I love you, Alex. I really do. Getting that nod at the fandom’s general depiction of human!Bill is the greatest feelings that I didn’t know I could have - yes, we had it before, but not so directly and in a published book. It still brings that certain level of satisfaction. I’m continually amused at the jabs at it, and I still to this day love quite a few depictions of him, but more than anything I’m flattered and amazed that fan-artists can get recognition at this level in this day and age. It is truly a time to be alive. I love this book.

Right page: [the figure of the human head’s brain separated into categories reads “ego, deceit, lies, pride”.] “Counterattack strategy:  ?????? A triangle is supposed to be the most stable shape in geometry, but there is nothing more unstable than this angular psychopath. The damage he’s done to my thoughts is impossible to calculate….what havoc might he have wrought?” Underneath, Bill writes:  “Wanna know what I did last time I was in your mind, Sixer? I deleted the world “burden” from your vocabulary and replaced it with “sea otter”! Good luck next time you try to sound ominous, smart guy!”

You know, I’m surprised that Bill writes properly. You know, proper grammar, capitalization, punctuation… You’d think he’d be the one to write in all-caps, like he talks! I didn’t think about that before now. Weird, isn’t it?

Blank page next to Invisible Ink page: “I have decided to use invisible ink to keep away prying eyes. ANYONE could be watching me!”

Invisible ink page:  [the lightbulb has rays of light coming from it as well as a normal eye in the bulb. The ink pot has invisible written on it, with splatters where ink might drip from the pot. There are a series of odd symbols drawn around it as well as a few on top of the page.] “I may provide previous pages with new secrets I have learned since originally writing them, and perhaps reviewing old passages will stabilize my rapidly dwindling sanity…”

No picture, but the page where Ford goes into town has all the townsfolk’s eyes glowing. Even Paul Bunyun’s.

Hiding Places:  [doodle of journal 1] Journal 1 – Describes my first 3 years in gravity falls. Focuses on mythical beasts, geographic anomalies, and my 30-hour arm-wrestling match with a very annoying unicorn.” [doodle of journal 2] Journal 2 – The most dangerous journal! Curses, incantations & dark power became an obsession in this volume. Describes the hiding place of the mystic amulet. I buried the amulet once I learned that it corrupts your soul (and whitens your hair)!” Journal 3 – The volume I hold in my hands. Describes my embarrassing defeat at the hands of Bill and the loss of my very sanity. Also contains a pretty good drawing of a plaidypus. Will soon be bestowed upon S and hidden at the ends of the Earth (I hope).”

Hiding places page 2:  Underneath the scribbled out drawing is the picture of the momentum conserver Ford made back in the seventies. Underneath it is written “what might have been…”

Trust No One page:  “Can’t sleep!” Is written nine times, and trust no one is highlighted and circled. 

On the page next to it, it looks exactly like the show, with several spots on the odd wheel scribbled out, the sad face over the center, and “IS THIS RIGHT? I just don’t know anymore!” written beneath it.

The next two blank pages are Bill’s:  “GUESS WHO! That’s right, pal, ol’ Six Fingers just conked out, & that means Captain Bill is steering the ship! And by “STEERING THE SHIP,” I mean making Sixer slap himself over and over! HA-HA-HA! That’s right, I just wrote down the sounds of my own laughter!” [next to the next paragraph, there is a drawing of Bill pouring gasoline on a flaming planet Earth, with the strange expression of someone watering flowers and encouraging their growth.] “Now where was he? Ah, yes! Mr. Serious was saying that anyone who was smart enough to decode these messages is smart enough to get on the right side of history! And that meant joining ME, your new best friend and style consultant, Bill Cipher! All it takes is a little handshake! Ever wanted to see inside the dreams of your crush? Or crush the dreams of your enemies? Or jet someone else control your body and take the old bone-mobile for a spin? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SUMMON ME!”

Page 2: “And it’ s so easy! Just say the words “BILL CIPHER” three times out loud, alone in the dark. Ready? I’ll say it with you! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! See? That wasn’t so hard! Now there’s a pathway between your mind and mine. I can see everything you can see! Sixer’s about to wake up, but the business between you and me has just begun. Let’s just say I’ll see you down the road. And if you ever get a phone call from a number that says “UNKNOWN,” pick up. Your Guy on the Inside (of Your Mind), BILL”

June 1 page (aka Dipper’s starting page]: “I discovered the Author’s black light secret! I invented some invisible ink and I’m going to try to write a few sneaky – Ugh! I spilled it! Now it’s everywhere! Oh, gross! It’s all over my pants! Ugh, this is embarrassing. I’m going to go wash it off. No black light for me. Yuck! –Dipper” [True to his word, dipper spilled the ink all over the next page, and indeed the page he was writing on. It’s like 2 giant splatter marks.

Mabel’s Smile Dip page has the “Do you like me” letter!!! I’m so tempted to check Absolutely!!! BUT I CANNOT TARNISH SUCH A TREASURE!

Bipper page:   Underneath the note Bipper left is the best gift this book has given me – a caticature of Bipper. It even says “Bipper as a cat!” underneath it. All is right in the world at this moment. I couldn’t be happier. If you can, look upon that drawing and feel the joy enter your soul.

Category 11/Dipper’s page on Pacifica:  (underneath the photo of Archibald Corduroy) “Roses are red, Pacifica’s blood is blue, I read what you crossed out! I’m on to you! Start combing your hair, Brother! –Mabel” Dipifica fans are now 10x happier they purchased this book – or got to read that poem!

I’m Back page:  “I have found my old bottle of invisible ink! It was right where I left it 30 years ago – hidden inside the science fair trophy in my electron carpet room. Unfortunately, most of the ink is gone, and there’s a note on the bottle which reads: “Hey, dude! I tried to drink some of this and it made my tummy glow. Like Shimmery Twinkleheart! Ha ha! I think I’m gonna go lie down forever now. –Soos”

I’m Back adjacent page:  “What a waste! Although, I am amazed that “soos” survivied what should have been a lethal dose of ink. He must be one of the most fit and healthy men on Earth! It’s just as well – this ink did little to keep my secrets from Bill Cipher. And I may have permanent retina damage from constantly flipping the lights on and off while trying to read my own messages. NOTE TO SELF:  Invent bionic eyes. I’ll use what little ink I have left for some….private thoughts. NEW DIMENSION CHECKLIST:  

Read the past 30 years of newspapers. I wonder if whales have finally made it onto land and become the dominatnt species. Also, looking forward to seeing how advanced the lasted fax machines must be!

Catch my breath – literally! I haven’t breathed the proper combination of nitrogen, oxygen, and trace vapors in years. Air is great. Really can’t overemphasize how great air is.

Order red turtleneck sweaters in bulk.

Check out The Eurythmics’ latest chart-topper!

Invent something as a sign of goodwill towards my niece and nephew. What do kids like these days? Bionic arm-lasers? Maybe a pet Cthulhu?

ILJXUH RXW ZKDW D “VLOYHU IRA” LV DQG ZKV HYHUBRQH NHHSV. FDOOLQJ PH RQH.” [Translated with Caesar -3:  “Figure out what a “Silver Fox” is and why everyone keeps calling me one.”]

OMG

EVEN MORE PROOF THAT I LOVE THIS DAMN BOOK. THE LAST PAGE WHERE FORD WRITES:

“AN INITIATION:   to fully complete your initiation as an honorary Pines, there is one final task - to place your hand on this page, hold it while you charge up the black light and then remove your hand. See what happens? Welcome to the family! Zh’yh ehhq zdlqlqj iru brx – Stanford”

If that didn’t rip your heart out, translated with Caeser -3, the last line reads “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I’m literally tearing up. Thank you to everybody who made this book possible. I’ve never been so happy to pay over a hundred dollars for a book. It was worth every penny. And the weird nightmares I got after receiving it.

[Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3]

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Legacy - Chapter 37

Yet again Mexico paused and looked back at America, "You're being quiet. I must have said something horrifying." America found himself suddenly and inexplicably fascinated with his own left hand. He stared at it while he said, "I guess I don't know what to say. I like to let myself forget how fierce you really are. Hearing about you fighting just brings back the reality, that's all." Mexico smiled, "I'm not a sweet little kitten, Al. you've always known that. I shouldn't have to remind you."

America stood up and walked over to his lover, "If you're not a kitten, then why do you purr when I do this?" He put his hand behind Mexico's ear and rubbed softly. As he had predicted, Mexico made a slight sound of pleasure in his throat. The skin right behind Mexico's ear was incredibly sensitive, which was why he was reacting to such a light touch. He spoke anyway, "I'm a jaguar." America used a little piece of trivia he had picked up just for situations like this, "Big cats don't purr." At this point, Mexico pulled away from the hand. It was a lovely distraction, but Mexico had something very important to talk about and his emotions were not in the right place for anything sexual at the moment. Unlike most countries, aggression generally caused him to lose any sort of sexual desire simply because Mexico became so fixated on whatever he was angry at.

Mexico turned to face his lover and said, "Go sit back down. You don't get the rest of the story if you keep distracting me." America sighed and dutifully walked back over to the bed and sat down, "Fine, Alejandro. What happened next?" Mexico started to clench and unclench his hands, but his tone remained calm, "Well, I finally faced Antonio. I can comfortably say that he didn't see it coming." ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Philippines leaned forward and put her elbows on the part of the table not covered by a map, "Mexico City is very heavily protected. The Spaniards pretty much left no weaknesses." She looked directly at Mexico, "You're going to need a minor miracle to take the city." Mexico took the information lightly, he had already suspected as much. Spain was no fool, he knew exactly where troops would do the most good. Mexico had heard whispers that there was rebellion rising in the other colonies, but it was perfectly clear that Spain's full attention was here.

Mexico had already figured out how to make it at least plausible that the revolutionary army could take the city. The Spanish army drew all of its power and organization almost directly from Spain. If Mexico could take out Spain, then there was a chance that the city could be taken and the revolution could be won. He turned to Hidalgo, who was also party to this discussion. The priest took the cue, "After the losses we took last battle, our ability to win is a bit questionable." Mexico finally felt that it was time to reveal his plan. He took a deep breath to brace himself before saying, "You have a chance if Antonio is out of the way." Philippines understood the statement perfectly at once. Her eyes widened and she said, "No! You can't fight him one on one." Mexico raised his eyebrow, "Piri, you know that I know how to handle myself. The plan has always been that I would fight Antonio." She stood the rest of the way up and looked him directly in the eyes. He could see that she was deeply concerned, which was touching. The words were deliberate, "You said you'd fight him. You never said you would fight him alone with no reinforcements and no escape. What if he wins? How will you get out?"

Mexico didn't let himself think about defeat, because thinking about it would make it more likely. Confidence would be key and thinking about defeat would just undermine that confidence. His response was careful, "Why can't you just trust me? I will be able to find a way out if I need one." Hidalgo cut in at this point, "Make sure you have a way out. We can't lose you, especially after you proved yourself in the last battle." Mexico had expected this from one of them, but this sort of protectiveness from both was a bit disheartening. It was quite clear that none actually trusted him to fight. Spain was out of practice when it came to one-on-one fighting, whereas, Mexico was sharper than he had ever been or probably ever would be. The odds were in Mexico's favor. He would not let the doubt from everyone else get in his way. Mexico was very confident in his own abilities, confident enough to face off against a Spaniard who would be in a very emotionally unstable state. More importantly, facing Spain now would be the only way to truly see the emotions tearing Spain apart, which was, of course, the entire point. Mexico would get his revenge then and there just by seeing the look on Spain's face.

As it was, he had to change the subject, "I'm leaving part of the discretion in implementing the plan to you, Miguel. It would be wise to wait until I get back, but you can attack whenever you deem it to be the most effective." Philippines slammed her hand into the table; obviously frustrated with the way he had brushed her off, "All the confidence in the world won't save you if Spain gets the upper hand! What do we do if you don't come back?" Mexico only grudgingly gave her a response, "If I am not back by tomorrow, then I expect you and Diego to continue on and do whatever you can. Antonio won't be able to destroy me, I know it." Philippines looked like she wanted to say something else, but she swallowed the comment. She glared at him one more time before turning and leaving the room.

Once she was gone, Hidalgo spoke directly to Mexico, "Are you sure you can handle this? You are still injured, are you not?" Mexico put his hand on his ribs, directly on top of the spot where the bullet had ripped through his skin. The wound had scabbed over well and had almost completely stopped hurting. It was most likely not going to be a problem. Although he understood the fatherly concern, it irked him a bit to be fussed over like a child. He said, "I'm sure I can take whatever Antonio throws at me. My injury is not going to stop me." The priest responded with a slight nod, "I know I cannot stop you from doing this. But, you need to keep your mind clearly on your goal. You need to do this for your own freedom, not because you want to fulfill your own vendetta." Mexico sighed; he found the lecture somewhat boring because he had heard it over and over again. He wouldn't deny the fact that he wanted some sort of payback; it had consumed his mind for so long that he was not going to abandon it. This was about more than just the fight or the victory or even the freedom. It had always been and always been about Spain's reaction. It might be vendetta to want to have Antonio know exactly what it felt like to lose someone precious to him, but that hardly meant that Mexico was going to change his plans. He simply said, "I will keep that in mind. My intentions will be as pure as possible." Hidalgo looked back down at the map for a second and seemed to be mulling over something very important. When he looked back up, he simply said, "I trust you will. Our success will rest entirely on your victory." ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mexico had found it very easy to sneak back into his own home, as heavily guarded as it was. He knew every back street that the Spanish failed to guard. The feeling inside the house had changed dramatically: it was frantic and stressed. Mexico couldn't be entirely sure if the change reflected his own feelings or those of Spain. More likely, it reflected Spain because at the moment Mexico felt strangely calm and confident. Either way, it would add to the tension well. Mexico entered the house using the balcony that was connected to the room that he and Spain had usually shared dinner; it seemed the most likely place to find the Spaniard, especially this early in the morning.

He had just opened the door to the balcony when he heard a familiar voice, "How could you have been so idiotic? You should have perused after the first retreat and put an end to that priest and his farce of a revolution!" Mexico smirked; Spain must be talking to the general who had failed last battle. The frustration was evident in his voice. Spain was realizing now that everything he had taken for granted was slipping out of his control. That was the perfect situation for Mexico to make his move. If Spain was frustrated and confused, his skill with a sword would decrease dramatically. Spain got no response from the man, so he continued to talk, "And most importantly, you would have been able to find Alejandro. I know he must be out there somewhere. God knows what he's gone through because I couldn't be here to protect him." This moment would prove if the general had been scared enough to keep the secret about having seen the boy. Mexico hoped that the power of terror would keep his tongue-tied. His hope seemed fulfilled when the mortal man continued to remain silent. Spain seemed to get even angrier, "Get out of my sight if you aren't going to tell me anything useful." There was the sound of someone scrambling to his feet and then the slamming of a door.

Mexico took this to mean that Spain was now alone. He walked over to the balcony doors and silently opened one of them the rest of the way. The white curtain that had covered the window whipped inward, carried by a slight wind from the outside. Mexico saw that Spain now had his back to the window. The table was covered in assorted dishes that held several different nearly uneaten breakfast foods. One of Spain's hands was holding firmly onto a glass of red wine. The Spaniard spoke to himself with a good deal of anguish, "Why is this happening to me?" Mexico seized his opportunity to make a dramatic entrance. He answered Spain's rhetorical question, "It may be because you are an arrogant fool who only sees what he wants to." As expected, Spain recognized the voice and quickly turned around. Their eyes locked and Mexico could swear that he saw a pure kind of relief well up in the other's green eyes. In fact, he looked close to shedding happy tears. His relief was so great that Spain didn't even seem to comprehend the words Mexico had spoken.

He spoke and his voice was choked with emotion, "I was so worried about you. When you weren't here at my arrival, I thought the worst. But now we can be just like we were." Spain took a couple quick steps forward to close the space between them. Mexico thought about taking a step backwards; the proximity was making him uncomfortable. But he held his ground in order to give Spain a false sense of hope. As Mexico expected, the European reached out to put his hand on the younger man's face, "You will always be mine, my little Aztec boy." At precisely the right moment, Mexico raised his hand and forcefully intercepted the hand. The result was that the hand was slapped away with an audible sound. He looked Spain deliberately in the eyes, "Don't touch me."

Spain's eyes widened as though he couldn't quite understand the situation. He managed a single word, "What?" Mexico knew that his timing had had the intended effect. Spain was completely confused now. Mexico took a step to the side to get farther away from Spain, speaking as he did so, "Oh, was I supposed to play submissive? Was I supposed to give in to your desires? Sorry, but I'm sick of those games." He let his voice drop into the more sinister tone that used to indicate he was letting his dark side out. Now, there was no need to hide his Aztec born side. In the past month, it had become his reality. It felt better to live life without the façade, without the lies. It was a tone that Spain had never heard, which became even more obvious when he responded, "There is something very different about your voice." Mexico laughed, a deep resounding laugh with a sinister undertone, "You don't know me, not really. You believed what I wanted you to believe. This is how my voice has always sounded when I am myself."

Suddenly, something seemed to click in Spain's mind. He spoke through clenched teeth, "What did that priest do to you?" Mexico continued to walk, making a slow circle around Spain, who was turning to keep an eye on him. It was not unlike a jaguar slowly closing in on its prey. Mexico had expected that the conversation would very soon change to the revolution and as he had predicted to Philippines a month ago, Spain was blaming Hidalgo. Mexico was quick to correct this, "Miguel? He did nothing I didn't ask for. I engineered this revolution." The Spaniard's hands slowly curled into fists, as another realization seemed to hit him, "You're on a first name basis with that corrupt man?" Mexico could see the gears churning inside of Spain's head. The confusion was evident. He had not yet reached the ultimate conclusion that would devastate him, but it was close.

Mexico kept his response short "Naturally I am. But this isn't about him. This is about you and me." Spain looked like he had been hit by a heavy blow that had knocked the air out of him. For once, he seemed entirely unable to come up with a response, so he changed the subject again, grasping at something that he could prove he was right about, "The things Francis said you did, they are lies, aren't they?" Now, Mexico knew he could destroy Spain completely. This topic was one that he knew Spain wanted to be right about. The only thing Spain had ever desperately hoped for was that he controlled the Aztec boy and was the only one who would ever lay claim to his body. Spain's heart was absolutely sure that Mexico was still a virgin, completely untouched by anyone else. To this, Mexico had a response that would finally crush that assertion. He rested one hand on the handle of his sword, which entailed brushing his coat back so that the sword was finally visible to Spain. This was a very deliberate gesture; it would show Spain that Mexico was perfectly willing to make this conversation into a fight. It was not lost on the European, whose eyes quickly flitted to the sword and then back to Mexico's face.

Once the effect of the gesture was clear, the Aztec boy said, "You Europeans are so confident in yourself, it's funny and pathetic. France thought he was good enough to enthrall me. You thought you could control me. But, I will give you the truth. I let Francis have a taste because he was useful to me, but he never seduced me. No more than you ever controlled my heart or my brain." The other was quick to respond this time. His expression changed from confusion to anger, "You're loyal to me! You said so, right here in this room!" Mexico loosened the sword in the sheath, but he did so subtly. He was now measuring the space between himself and Spain. He had shattered the man's heart, and now the fight was almost inevitable.

Of course, Mexico needed to urge this forward to a fight. At this point, he expected to feel a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing Spain feel the pain he had felt so long ago. This revenge was supposed to lift the weight off of him, fill the hole in his heart, but it wasn't happening. The hate was still there. Looking at Spain still made Mexico feel irrationally angry and sick at the same time. The only thing the heartbreak in the green eyes made him feel was a shallow satisfaction that his plans had finally come to fruition. Mexico let the emotion sit for a second before he said with something that was supposed to be a sweet smile, "I lied."

Spain had begun to take steps to the side so he was tracing the same circle that Mexico was walking. He didn't seem aware of it, as if it was a reflex developed through years of fighting enemies. His voice shook as he said, with the last of his desperation; "I can forgive you for that. It isn't too late for you to come back to Madrid with me. Let's have the life we deserve." The last word struck Mexico the wrong way. It made his blood boil to think that Spain deserved the happy little fairy tale that imperial life had been. He only deserved death, and a painful death at that. If anything, it should be more painful than the death that the Aztec empire had endured, that was only fair.

Mexico kept his expression well hidden, if Spain knew he had been successful in provoking Mexico, he may use it to his advantage. Instead he said in a tone that was intentionally flat, "The life you deserve? I will give you what you deserve." As quickly as he could, Mexico grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled the blade out of the sheath. In one motion, he swung the sword upward, intent on hitting Spain. The Spaniard grabbed a knife from the table and was barely able to block the swing. The blades hit each other with surprising force, the sound of it echoed down through the room. It was all Spain could do to keep his grip on the knife. The European man was wearing a sword at his hip, but he hadn't drawn it. This was extremely telling. Not drawing the sword meant that Spain was still refusing to see this as a true fight. For him, this was still an intervention to bring Mexico back to his senses.

Their eyes met, green and gold, hate and confusion. Mexico put more strength into the sword, which caused the blades to rattle together. Spain spoke again, "Put that down now, Alejandro. I don't want to hurt you and you don't know how to use that blade." Mexico smirked and said back, "Oh don't I?" He shifted the blade so that the hilt was right up against the hilt of the knife. Then, he moved the sword upward so that the knife went flying. Mexico then lowered his sword so that the tip was just in front of Spain's throat.

In the distance, a sound was swelling. Spain heard it and desperately looked around. Mexico recognized the sound; it was a call to arms, which meant that Hidalgo had decided to attack now. The sound only worked to reinforce Mexico's message that everything was changing now. This situation was more than serious; it was pivotal. To taunt Spain, he said, "Do you hear that? That's the sound of your reign ending. Now draw your sword and face me like a man or I will cut you down like a dog." Spain put his hand on the hilt of his own sword, but he didn't draw it, "You wouldn't do that to me, after all I have given you, after all we have shared. If you would, then I have lost you." Mexico had expected as much from Spain. Even with all the information telling him that Mexico had turned traitor, he was still denying it and attempting to remedy the situation. The Aztec boy laughed, "You truly don't get it," He swung again and this time Spain was forced to block with his own sword. Mexico snarled, speaking over the interlocked swords, "I was never yours to lose."

They both broke the lock between their swords to free the weapons for the next move. Mexico was already mad, but he kept his mind clear. If there was one thing about fighting that Portugal had taught him, it was that emotion was detrimental during a fight. Getting truly enraged would do nothing to improve Mexico's chances, so his best strategy was to remain calm. Spain was obviously attempting and failing to do the same. His voice shook slightly as he raised the sword into a defensive position and said, "I don't want to fight you, Alejandro." Mexico gritted his teeth attempting to not show his emotion. The denials had been entertaining at first, but now they were just annoying. If possible, Mexico's voice got even colder, "That's really a pity because I want you dead."

With that, he lunged forward and swung again, this time getting much closer to Spain. This forced the European to take a step back as he parried. The stroke was deflected, but Spain made no move to counter-attack. Mexico growled in his throat, frustrated by the fact that he couldn't provoke a response, he shifted from one attack to another, which came across Spain's chest in a silver ark. This one was even harder for the Spaniard to deflect since it was such a quick forceful blow. He took a quick step backwards to adjust. Mexico spoke again, "Fight me, you spineless bastard!" With that, he took a step forward and brought down a hard overhand stroke that would, if on target, hit Spain directly in the head. Spain quickly moved to block the blow. The swords collided with a metallic crash. They were yet again stuck in a deadlock, with both of them holding onto their swords with both hands and they swords were over their heads.

Spain's eyes locked on Mexico's. He spoke with some measure of control, "Your moves are good. But, I know this isn't who you are. You aren't a revolutionary." Spain spat out the last word like it was poisonous. Naturally, it was a word that Spain hated with all his heart because the person branded with that title had the power to bring him down. Mexico leaned forward so he was even closer to his colonizer, "You don't know anything about me." Spain's eyes slowly drifted down to something that Mexico had failed to notice. When he had leaned forward, the pendant of Aztec gold had swung forward out of his shirt, so it was now highly visible. This was what Spain's eyes were now fixed on and his expression slowly shifted from shock to anger. When he finally looked back up at the Aztec boy, he spoke through clenched teeth, "How dare you wear that in front of me? I see now: you are corrupted, even after all I've done for you!"

Mexico had not expected the anger, but was pleased that he had done something to elicit it all the same. This simple piece of gold seemed to have finally made it clear to Spain that he had to fight back. All the same, Mexico felt the need to respond with a biting comment, "I dare because I would rather be the bitter truth than a sweet lie. No matter what you think you did, the truth is that I will always be my mother's son." Spain put more force into the sword, but this time used it to push to the side so that the swords broke apart.

Mexico took a half step backwards to give himself room to maneuver. Spain carefully changed his position so that it was now more offensive and spoke again, "I am going to tear that pendant away from you and then you will remember who you really are and this insanity will end." Mexico tensed his muscles, ready to attack or block depending on the other's move, "I would love to see you try, old man." For the first time, Spain lunged forward. The attack was far faster than anything Mexico had dealt with when practicing with Portugal or Brazil. His reflexes were quick enough that he was able to bring the sword around in time to deflect Spain's blow, which would have slashed across his shoulder, had it made contact. The Spaniard hardly missed a beat. He switched his aim to come across the other's chest. It would be a glancing blow, but the slash that the blade would leave would be enough to disable Mexico. That was, as far as Mexico could tell, Spain's plan now. He meant to cause enough damage to incapacitate the Aztec boy so he could bring his back to Madrid and fully exert his control again. Mexico was yet again able to deflect the strike, but he noticed that he was taking small steps backwards so that he was getting slowly farther away from the table.

He had never truly seen Spain let loose, and this was more than he had bargained for. A third strike came hard and fast from a slightly different angle, and yet again Mexico was able to block. Spain's green eyes were now alight with a manic kind of fire, as though he was finding some sort of pleasure in the sound of the swords clashing. The Spaniard now smirked, "Is this what you wanted? Can you handle it?" Mexico growled, more angered by the taunt than he should be. He was supposed to be good at fighting, but Spain was slowly beating him back. He decided that this was not the time to be honorable, if he wanted to win; Mexico was going to have to fight dirty.

When the next strike came, he intentionally blocked it very near to the hilt so that the hilts of the swords were very close together. Mexico leaned into the sword, which made it harder for Spain to free the sword for another attack. Once he had proximity, he drove a knee upward and caught the Spaniard in the stomach. It wasn't exactly what he had been aiming for, but the immediate effect was enough. The blow knocked the breathe out of Spain, which was enough for him to need a couple seconds to recover. Naturally, Mexico didn't give him that much time.

Once Spain's sword dropped, Mexico used his free hand to smack the Spaniard across the face. As the European man took a couple uncoordinated steps backwards, stunned by the blow, Mexico spun and was able to bring his sword quickly across the back of Spain's hand and arm. The slash was quick and, thus, very shallow. All the same, it made Spain hiss between his teeth in pain. Mexico took a couple steps so that he was on the other side of Spain. The other turned quickly and raised his sword again. Spain held the blade steady despite the pain that he was undoubtedly feeling from the injury. The Spaniard was quite beyond words. The blood had made him even angrier, so he was now completely enraged. Spain swung again and was able to hit again and again in quick succession. However, it was slower now, which made it easier for Mexico to block each stroke.

Slowly, Mexico was able to take the offensive, responding to every attack with one of his own. It looked to be a stalemate, but Mexico could see that Spain's hands were shaking now. He felt confident enough to smirk at Spain. He knew that if the Spaniard continued to weaken; he could easily defeat the Spaniard. If he could just get around Spain again, he would be able to win this fight. He would be able to put his blade to Spain's back, which would give him access to the vital organs. From the front, it was very unlikely that he would hit anything with Spain aggressively blocking. It would be a risky move, moving would break the concentration he was using on the sword fight. However, confidence took over and Mexico decided to go for it.

He took a quick side step. Spain recognized the move for what it was and quickly attempted to counter. He brought his sword down in an n arch over his head. Mexico blocked upward but continued to move in a circle. However, Spain had a second strike that was more effective. He used his free arm to throw an elbow that managed to hit Mexico across the side of the ribs. Spain was definitely not aiming for the bullet wound, since he did not know of its existence, but he managed to bring the point of his elbow across the wound. It sent a spike of pain up Mexico's side, which was enough to cause him to falter. The wound was on the same side as his sword hand, which meant that the shooting pain also caused him to loosen his grip on the sword.

Spain took the opportunity. He brought the hilt of his sword down on Mexico's hand, which caused the Aztec boy to lose his grip on his sword. The blade fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Mexico didn't have time to try to pick the weapon back up; Spain made a quick move. He grabbed Mexico by the shoulder with his free hand, his thumb digging into the hollow above the collar bone, and swung him around in a half-circle, and then slammed him against the table. Mexico's back hit the table, smashing into at least one plate. The rest of the dishes went flying. Mexico put his hand out on instinct and knocked over the glass of red wine, which spilt over the surface of the table like blood. Mexico could feel the liquid seeping into the back of his jacket. Mexico quickly exhaled as the breath was knocked out of him.

Spain pinned the boy to the table using his bleeding arm across Mexico's shoulders. With the other hand, he raised his sword and placed the point against the boy's chest. Mexico knew he had lost now; his split second weakness had given Spain the invaluable upper hand. Now Spain had him completely trapped. But, he had to get out of this situation, he had promised Philippines that he would come back and he needed to make good on her promise to her. She was one of the few people he could never let down. He needed an opportunity, but he didn't see one right now.

Spain finally spoke, "Be still. You are at my mercy. Defy me again and I will run you through." Mexico sensed that this statement was little more than bravado; Spain cared far too much to actually kill him. Even with the conquistador in control, Spain still loved Mexico far too much to kill him. Mexico pushed up against the arm and snarled, "Go ahead. Kill me. Right here, right now, just like you murdered my mother."

The blood drained out of Spain's face. He spoke in a voice devoid of all the distinctive conquistador confidence, "You knew I killed her?" Mexico responded, "Of course, I have always known what you did. You stole my family away from me, you fucking bastard." Spain's hand started to shake. Guilt bubbled up in the green eyes. Mexico saw his opportunity; Spain was distracted by his own guilt, which meant that he could be taken down. The Aztec boy subtly moved his legs so that one was on either side of Spain's. The Spaniard spoke again, "I'm sorry, I have paid for that my entire life. I tried to make it better for you."

Mexico scoffed, "Is that supposed to make it better? I will always hate you, no matter what you do. My heart is treasonous, so kill me, if you have the balls." Spain raised the sword as if he was about to drive it through the other's chest, but he couldn't actually make the movement. It was quite obvious that Spain was trying to figure out the best thing to do, he wanted to have a clear victory and a way to incapacitate Mexico without actually causing that much pain. But, the Aztec boy finally saw his opportunity, "You're sentimental and weak, and I've outgrown you."

With that, he scissored his legs, which meant they came together right at Spain's knees. This caused Spain to lose balance and fall. Mexico simply watched as Spain fell and his head first hit the edge of the table and then the floor. The blows knocked the Spaniard unconscious. Once he was sure Spain was out, Mexico straightened up, "That's what you get when you hesitate." A small puddle of blood was forming under Spain's head, which was all the more satisfying to Mexico. More than anything, Mexico was incredibly mad at the fact that his pride had been so thoroughly crushed by Spain's skill, so it felt much better to see Spain bleeding on the floor.

Mexico could hardly think over what was now a blinding pain in his side. He brushed back his coat to look at his side. The wound had split open and was now bleeding through the bandage and a red spot was now forming on his shirt. He knew he had lost and now needed to make an escape. He picked up his sword from the floor; this was the last thing he wanted to leave with Spain.

He had one last thought that would be a cruel sign to Spain when he woke up. Mexico took off his jacket, which was still dripping with wine and stained with blood and took it over to the only chair still at the table, the one that Mexico had usually occupied when they had dinner together, and hung the jacket over the back of it. After that Mexico walked back to where Spain was laying and he kneeled down next to the unconscious man. He reached out and stroked Spain's face, "I will see you again, Tony. And the next time, I will kill you." With that, Mexico stood up and left, still clutching his bleeding side.

[bromfieldhall]

What Makes You Beautiful - A Mentalist Fanfiction

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: “Yesterday I made a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to give myself one whole year to woo and win the love of California Bureau of Investigation’s Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon.”

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Previous Chapters: 1

CHAPTER 2

"You're turning heads when you walk through the door,"

~ What Makes You Beautiful ~ 1D

February 3rd – 8.30pm

I hate charity auctions.

Especially one such as this, which is nothing more than a PR stunt to promote the California state police departments. Some middle-aged fool from the AG's office sporting a paunch and a God complex decided that relations between the Sacramento elite and local law enforcement needed to be vastly improved and here we are.

Each department is supplying one person to be a 'lot' for the evening.

Don't get me wrong, although I dislike charity auctions in general, I'm perfectly happy with the part where they actually raise money for a good cause. It's just the whole over the top razzmatazz that the organisers feel should go with it. Personally, I'd rather they came around with a box and we all put in what money we can spare. Maybe have a free glass of nice wine and go home. Why does there have to be a full on social gathering?

Better yet, why don't they just use the obscene amount of money they've obviously spent on this shindig and give that to their chosen charity instead?

I look around. There's a smattering of law enforcement officers and officials schmoozing the usual politicians and businessmen and women. Then you've got the people who were born to their wealth who are only here because it's their 'duty'. They don't particularly like mixing with us mere mortals, they do it simply because they think it makes them look good.

Those are the people I dislike the most. The rich fat cats with too much time and too much money. Full of their own self-importance. Never done an honest day's work in their life. They irk me.

They also remind me of me many years ago.

True, I worked for a living but I'd hardly call it honest.

I used to be just like them. Thought I had it all. Thought I was better than everyone else. Not a care in the world. Like, somehow, my celebrity status and all the wealth that came with it meant that nothing bad could ever touch me because of who I was and what I did.

I was such an arrogant fool. And I paid for it dearly. Am still paying for it, because my guilt will never completely go away. I deserve that.

I saunter around the hall catching snippets of other people's inane conversations and find myself drowning in the quagmire of never-ending tedium.

And I've only been here ten minutes.

I look around, searching for Lisbon. I'm only here because she specifically told me not to come. I mean, please…that's tantamount to a red flag to a bull. How could I not turn up?

After all these years you'd think she'd know that I never do what she's says, but she still keeps trying to order me about. It's sweet. Really.

I'm guessing she thought I'd actually listen this time because ever since our little…altercation over the Carlton case a few weeks ago, I've been noticeably behaving myself better. But that's work…this is personal. Doesn't count.

The sound of an obviously fake laugh draws my attention and I turn to see a man surrounded by a group of women. Speak of the devil…

Senator Carlton is holding court and clearly very much over the 'pain' of losing his dearly, departed wife to her murderous lover not four weeks ago. He sickens me. And he looks like a toad.

He catches my eye and scowls. It's not surprising. I did apologise to him as I said I would…it's just that nobody told me I had to make it sound sincere. Lisbon wasn't very happy with me but she didn't get suspended which is the main thing. After all, it's not her fault I can be a jerk sometimes. I can't be expected to change overnight, now can I?

Besides, I know full well that she spoke to him afterwards and smoothed everything over. He certainly walked out of the CBI a far happier man than he entered it. Lisbon does tend to have that effect on people…when she puts her mind to it.

I turn away from the odious individual and continue my perusal of the room. I notice that Cho is nursing a drink alone at the bar. I raise my glass of sparkling water and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement back. He is the nominated 'lot' from our team tonight. He's offering to teach basic self-defence to the lucky winner. I know he's been dreading getting up on stage. He's not one for the limelight is our Cho.

I scan the rest of the room and find Rigsby staring at the few couples that are making use of the dance floor. The pinched look on his face resembles one of a child who has had his favourite toy taken away but is determined not to cry.

When I check out the dancers I understand why. Van Pelt, who looks lovely this evening, is being whirled around the floor by a rather tall, rather handsome young man who, judging by his slightly dazed expression, can't quite believe his luck. It's obvious he's wishing that she were up for auction this evening.

I feel sorry for Risgby and Grace, they were good together. And now that he has long split up with Sarah, they could still be good together…if CBI rules allowed. I'm pretty sure that if they decided to take up their romance again, Lisbon wouldn't interfere this time. She'd let them be. They both deserve a little happiness after what they've been through.

Don't we all?

Speaking of which…I still can't see Lisbon anywhere. She's usually prompt to the point of being too early. But not tonight it seems. Odd.

I take a sip of my water and think back over the past month with a smile. Things are…better between us. I like to think almost back to normal now, but I was wrong before and so I'm being extra cautious. Keeping it light. Baby steps. Trying to get back to what we were before Lorelei's presence ruined everything. It's taking some time, but I truly believe that we will get there. I have to, for both our sakes.

Naturally, this delays my resolution somewhat. I can't attempt to go forward until we're back to where we started. It's frustrating, but necessary and as I told Lisbon a few weeks ago…I'm a patient man.

The song that's playing comes to an end and the auctioneer for the evening steps up to the mike. I don't recognise him and forget his name before he's even finished introducing himself.

Everyone moves to either find a seat or stand on the dance floor in readiness for the main event. The auction begins but everything is just background noise as I'm beginning to feel a little concerned that I can't find Lisbon. I walk over to where Cho is getting up from his barstool. It's his turn soon.

"Have you seen, Lisbon?" I ask, still scouring the hall.

He nods his head. "Yeah."

I wait for him to continue but when it's obvious that he's not going to be more forthcoming, I query irritably, "Well? Where is she?"

"Around," is his brief reply.

His evasive answer tells me that something is up. I don't know if it's to do with work or whether it's personal but all the same, it bothers me a little that Lisbon obviously chose to bring him in on it and not me.

"Where around, exactly?" I press, watching his impassive face for a glimmer of a clue.

Cho shrugs but doesn't reply. Instead he opts for classic avoidance. "So, what are you doing here? I thought the boss told you not to come?"

"Oh, she did," I concede with a smile. "I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

He snorts and looks away. "Yeah, wouldn't bet on that."

I'm about to ask him outright what the hell's going on when something the auctioneer says catches my ear. "Did he just say Lisbon's name?" I ask in amazement.

"Yeah."

I'm confused. "But I thought you were the one up for auction."

"I was, but when I got here tonight Lisbon told me that the plans had changed."

My puzzlement grows. "Why?"

I finally feel as though I'm going to get to the truth of the matter when Cho sighs and looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't know for certain but he has something to do with it," he tells me.

He nods towards the crowd of people on the dance floor and I grow tense when I see Senator Carlton making his way to the front.

"He came over when Lisbon was here and made…comments," Cho continues, looking a little angry now.

"Comments?" I repeat incredulously, feeling my own hackles rise at the thought of what the other man might have said.

"Comments," Cho confirms, his top lip curling up in distaste.

Why, that rotten, son of a…

The desire to defend Lisbon's honour surges through me like a tidal wave and my hands clench at my sides as I run through all the possible ways to inflict pain on the self-absorbed ass. I know I could get away with it and I'm pretty certain Cho would help.

"I asked her about it when he left and she just said that it was a small price to pay to keep you around," he concludes, a hint of accusation in his eyes.

I feel like I've just been punched in the gut and my anger rises anew. I don't have to be a mentalist to know that Carlton has somehow turned my foolish behaviour to his advantage. Apparently Lisbon has saved me yet again but it's not her job on the line this time, it's her self-respect instead. And I absolutely cannot let her do that for me.

I catch sight of Lisbon walking quickly onto the stage and my breath catches. She is stunning. The unassuming black dress accentuates her figure perfectly. It's sexy in an artless kind of way that's very appealing. All the other men in the hall seem to agree as the hush that had descended when she appeared dissipates into eager murmuring when the auctioneer announces that the winning bidder will enjoy an evening with Teresa including dinner at a place of her choice.

Carlton opens the bidding at two thousand dollars.

It's been the highest amount all evening of that I'm sure. I doubt anyone will raise him, which I assume is his intention, and I notice Lisbon's face take on a look of resignation. She smiles, trying to cover it up trooper that she is, but I can still see it. See what she's willing to sacrifice. And I bet she's even convinced herself that something positive is coming out of all this in that the charity will benefit from the money.

My Saint Teresa.

I walk towards Carlton and feel Cho following close behind, probably trying to ensure I don't do anything stupid. With no other bids forthcoming, the auctioneer begins to wrap up the 'lot' as I come to a stop beside the senator.

"Three thousand dollars," I say loudly, just before the man with the gavel can say, 'gone'. Lisbon looks understandably shocked when she hears my voice and then her mouth tightens in annoyance as she sees me standing next to Carlton.

The senator turns to look at me with a frown and I grin back at him. Gauntlet thrown down.

"Four thousand dollars," he bids, his eyes daring me to counter.

"Five," I offer, almost immediately.

The senator starts to get a red hue to his cheeks and leans towards me. "Back off, Mr. Jane, or you can say goodbye to your job," he says quietly through gritted teeth in what I guess he thinks is a threatening tone. He's an amateur compared to Lisbon.

To my surprise, Cho walks around me and stands in front of Carlton, arms folded. "Is that a threat, Senator?" he asks matter-of-factly. "Because it sure sounded like one from where I was standing."

"Going once," I hear the auctioneer call.

"From here too," says Rigsby suddenly appearing on the senator's other side looking grim.

"Going twice," the auctioneer calls a second time.

Carlton turns an even brighter shade of scarlet and I begin to think he might actually explode. "I'll have all your jobs for this," he hisses angrily before turning and walking away.

"Sold to Mr…?"

"Jane," I reply. "Patrick Jane."

The auctioneer smiles and indicates for Lisbon to leave the stage. She looks absolutely livid and heads straight for us, her eyes practically shooting flames.

"Uh-oh," murmurs Rigsby apprehensively.

I can understand his concern. "You two go, I'll handle it," I say, grateful for their intervention and wishing to give them a reprieve. They don't need telling twice and I'm quickly left alone to face Lisbon's wrath.

"What the hell was that?" she demands to know as she comes to a stop right in front of me.

I can sense her barely contained rage so naturally I have to push it. "You're welcome," I reply with a grin.

"Jane," she says, the warning clear.

"It's fine, Lisbon. Don't worry," I dismiss with a wave of my hand. "We merely persuaded Senator Carlton not to bid for you, that's all."

"Oh, God," she groans as she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm going to get suspended, aren't I?"

I raise my hand and take hold of hers, gently pulling it away from her face. She opens those amazing green eyes and I shake my head. "He won't bother you again, trust me," I tell her and I'm pleased to feel her relax a little.

She stares at me and I know she's trying to figure out what happened but in the end she just accepts it and lets out a little sigh. She looks down at our joined hands and I'm disappointed, but not surprised, when she pulls hers away. "I need a drink," she mutters, walking off towards the bar.

I follow and stand beside her when she perches on one of the stools. I order her a drink and get myself another water.

"You know you're going to have to pay for this, don't you?" she says seriously.

I'm not quite sure what she's talking about and glance at our drinks in perplexity. "I thought it was a free bar."

She looks a little self-conscious. "Not the drinks…I meant the auction…you know…me."

It's adorable the way she stumbles over her explanation. And the rosy hue that invades her face is far more becoming than the vermilion disaster that was Carlton.

"Oh, that," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I can afford it. Besides, you're worth it."

I deliberately keep my tone offhand but it pleases me to note that the colour deepens on her smooth cheeks. It's obvious she doesn't know what to say and I'm content to let the silence continue between us as she, no doubt, ruminates on all the possible meanings.

I know I said I'm taking baby steps but even an infant needs a gentle push sometimes in order for it to stand. Right?

A short, sweaty man walks over carrying a clipboard then thrusts it towards me with a pen and asks for my signature by way of confirming that I've won…Lisbon.

I fill out all the details and hand it back to him while I watch the auction conclude with complete disinterest. All my senses are attuned to the woman sitting quietly next to me. I know there are things she wants to ask me. There are things I want to say, but it's too soon. She's not ready.

The band take up their positions on stage. The lights dim slightly, taking the edge of the harsh lighting just enough to give the room a romantic ambience and they begin to play. It's a slow song and I can't resist holding out my hand for hers.

"Will you dance with me?" I ask with my most persuasive grin.

She hesitates for a second then smiles and places her hand in mine. I lead her onto the dance floor and can't stop my sigh of satisfaction as I take her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and I gather her in closer, chest against chest, thighs brushing thighs, our bodies moving easily together as if we've danced this way many, many times before.

"So," she says, finally breaking her silence and lifting her head to look at me. "Where are you going to take me for dinner?"

I gaze down at her and smile. "I thought that was your choice."

She shakes her head. "I made that a condition so that Carlton couldn't take me back to his place," she admits, confirming to me what I'd already suspected.

"I knew you'd set this whole thing up," I say with a shake of my head. "Please promise me you won't do anything like this again, Lisbon. I'm not worth it."

"You are, Jane, because you close cases. I need you on my team."

No matter how much I love holding her like this, I really want to shake the infernal woman for trotting out that same old excuse again. She's said it for so long now that I think she's actually starting to believe it's true.

"Besides, I had everything planned," she adds with a sudden smile that catches me off guard. "I knew when I told you not to come tonight you wouldn't listen. I didn't think you'd actually bid for me but I knew that if Cho said the right things, I could count on you to do something so that Carlton wouldn't win."

She looks so happy that her little scheme has worked, I can't find it within myself to be upset that she conned me in such a way. Turnabout is fair play after all.

"I'm impressed," I say letting my admiration to show. "Plus, the charity gets a nice little donation out of it. Win, win situation all round."

"It is," she replies, still grinning. "And it was nice to finally get one over on you for a change."

"Oh, you did," I admit as the music comes to an end and I reluctantly release my hold. "Apart from one little thing."

She pulls away with a frown. "And what's that?" she asks dubiously.

I reach out then take her hand and look deeply into her eyes as I raise it slowly to my lips. Holding her gaze, I press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Her skin is warm and I find myself lingering there far longer than I should when her mouth drops open a little and I hear her sharp intake of breath.

I eventually pull back with a smile, my lips still tingling from the tender contact. Keeping hold of her hand, I lean in closer. I hear her breathing hitch anew as I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper dryly, "Cho stepped in too early, I would have paid double."

I hear her gasp of surprise as I pull back and grin. I give her hand a light squeeze then release it before I turn to walk away, but she stops me.

"Wait, what about dinner?" she asks, that wonderful blush back on her perfect cheeks.

"No rush, Lisbon. You can choose when you're ready. Or not. Just let me know. I'll be waiting."

I leave her on the dance floor staring after me in confusion. I enjoy keeping her off kilter and quite honestly, if I don't leave her now I'll do more than just kiss her on the hand.

I make my way outside and to my car and I can't help but think that maybe charity auctions aren't such a bad thing after all.

END CHAPTER 2