#build a help desk knowledge base

[mmywanda]

Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring. men & minors dni!

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

[glowettee]

hi there! im a fan of your page 💕

can you give me the best studying techniques?

hi angel!! @mythicalmarion tysm for asking about study techniques 🤍 i'm so excited to share my secret methods that helped me maintain perfect grades while still having a dreamy lifestyle + time for self-care!! and thank you for being a fan of my blog, it means everything to me. <3

~ ♡ my non-basic study secrets that actually work ♡ ~

(don't mind the number formatting)

the neural bridging technique this is literally my favorite discovery!! instead of traditional note-taking, i create what i call "neural bridges" between different subjects. for example, when studying both literature + history, i connect historical events with the literature written during that time. i use a special notebook divided into sections where each page has two columns - one for each subject. the connections help you understand both subjects deeper + create stronger memory patterns!!

here's how i do it:

example:

left column: historical event

right column: literary connection

middle: draw connecting lines + add small insights

bottom: write how they influenced each other

the shadow expert method this changed everything for me!! i pretend i'm going to be interviewed as an expert on the topic i'm studying. i create potential interview questions + prepare detailed answers. but here's the twist - i record myself answering these questions in three different ways:

basic explanation (like i'm talking to a friend)

detailed analysis (like i'm teaching a class)

complex discussion (like i'm at a conference)

this forces you to understand the topic from multiple angles + helps you explain concepts in different ways!!

the reverse engineering study system instead of starting with the basics, i begin with the most complex example i can find and work backwards to understand the fundamentals. for example, in calculus, i start with a complicated equation + break it down into smaller parts until i reach the basic concepts.

my process looks like:

find the hardest example in the textbook

list every concept needed to understand it

create a concept map working backwards

study each component separately

rebuild the complex example step by step

the sensory anchoring technique this is seriously game-changing!! i associate different types of information with specific sensory experiences:

theoretical concepts - study while standing

factual information - sitting at my desk

problem-solving - walking slowly

memorization - gentle swaying

review - lying down

your body literally creates muscle memory associated with different types of learning!!

the metacognition mapping strategy i created this method where i track my understanding using what i call "clarity scores":

level 1: can recognize it

level 2: can explain it simply

level 3: can teach it

level 4: can apply it to new situations

level 5: can connect it to other topics

i keep a spreadsheet tracking my clarity levels for each topic + focus my study time on moving everything to level 5!!

the information architecture method instead of linear notes, i create what i call "knowledge buildings":

foundation: basic principles

first floor: key concepts

second floor: applications

top floor: advanced ideas

roof: real-world connections

each "floor" must be solid before moving up + i review from top to bottom weekly!!

the cognitive stamina training this is my absolute secret weapon!! i use a special interval system based on brain wave patterns:

32 minutes of focused study

8 minutes of active recall

16 minutes of teaching the material to my plushies

4 minutes of complete rest

the specific timing helps maintain peak mental performance + prevents study fatigue!!

the synthesis spiral evolution this method literally transformed how i retain information:

create main concept spirals

add branch spirals for subtopics

connect related concepts with colored lines

review by tracing the spiral paths

add new connections each study session

your notes evolve into a beautiful web of knowledge that grows with your understanding!!

these methods might seem different from typical study advice, but they're based on how our brains actually process + store information!! i developed these through lots of research + personal experimentation, and they've helped me maintain perfect grades while still having time for self-care, hobbies + fun!!

sending you the biggest hug + all my good study vibes!! remember that effective studying is about working with your brain, not against it <3

p.s. if you try any of these methods, please let me know how they work for you!! i love hearing about your study journeys!!

xoxo, mindy 🤍

glowettee hotline is still open, drop your dilemmas before the next advice post 💌: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

[enodia-polymorphous]

9 DAILY DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR HEKATE It is not expected at all that you would do devotional acts every day, or that they're specific to Hekate only! This post is for inspiration purposes based on my daily practice.

1. Devotional perfume or scents

You can dedicate a new or owned perfume or scent to the goddess and wear it as often as you can/like in devotion to her. I wear the Hekate perfume from Yalu Natural Perfumery & Witchery!

2. Devotional jewelry

With a new or owned piece of jewelry, you can cleanse it with smoke, sound, khernips etc. and then devote it to the goddess. This can be done by presenting the jewelry to her (either at your shrine, altar or in your hands - you don't need a shrine/altar for this), and then saying a prayer that dedicates wearing the jewelry to her.

I specify "wearing the jewelry" as you are wearing it as a devotional act, rather than giving her the jewelry as a gift (which can also be done, if it pleases you).

3. Tarot readings for the community

If you are interested in divination or practice divination, a wonderful devotional act could be offering readings within your communities. I offer free tarot readings and paid ones in my shop in honour of Hekate.

4. Work on a devotional project

A devotional project can be art, writing, music... I like to write hymns for Hekate. Another devotional project of mine are the journals I keep with all my reflections and findings about the goddess. I'm working on an oracle deck inspired by her epithets, which is another devotional project!

5. Pray

You don't need to do offerings or libations every day, though a prayer can be said at anytime of the day to praise or thank Hekate. You can also use hymns and pre-written prayers for this. You could even keep a sticky note by your bed or under your pillow with a pre-written (original or borrowed, with permission) prayer to say before you sleep.

6. Tend to her altar

If you have an altar or shrine to Hekate, cleaning it and refreshing it can be a great devotional act and a way to connect with her. Cleaning it can include taking the items off the surface and wiping it down, it can be disposing of previous offerings, it can be adding new offerings. It can be a combination!

If you don't have an altar or shrine and can't, then cleaning your space is the next best thing. Your room, your house, your desk - wherever you may do a lot of your worship to Hekate.

7. Learn something new

There is so much to learn about Hekate, her history, her ancient and modern worship, her names... I always try to learn something new every day to build upon my devotion and allow me to connect with the goddess at a deeper level.

8. Share knowledge

When you're learning so much, it can be good to share this knowledge. Everyone comes across knowledge of Hekate in different ways, on different paths, and you never know when your post, video, chat, or random fun-fact might be useful!

Knowledge is also valuable when based on your experiences as a worshipper. It can help others feel solidarity, allow them to feel confident, give them an idea of how to get started.

9. Meditation

I have to suggest this series of Hekate meditations by Mima Cornish. If you like guided meditations, this one will do you well in connecting with Hekate Phosphorus, Hekate Einalia, Hekate Cthonia, and Hekate Soteira.

You can also sit with some meditation music and seek to connect with her. Meditation doesn't have to be silent with an empty mind, but a state where you can do something absent-mindedly enough to open your mind and self to her presence.

divider credit -> @enchanthings-a

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 18

Masterlist

Summary: It's nearly two weeks now since Bradley and Jake had to go on the aircraft carrier. It's time that they come back to their beloved girlfriend, isn't it? But before y/n can breathe easily Welsh is throwing stones into her way, while fulfilling his plan to make her his. But finally there's a witness of what Welsh is capable of. Will y/n finally opens up to someone from the base?

Trigger warnings: 18+! Minors DNI!, past abusive relationship, previous abuse, panic attack, manipulative man, dangerous man

A/N: It's going to escalate real fast, isn't it? We need Bradley and Jake back, hopefully they will end their deployment soon <3 Thanks for the support, feel free to reblog my silly little story if you like it.

Word Count: 2.6k +

There is only one thought that keeps swirling in her brain: RUN. Run as fast as possible, away from that evil man. The man that seems to know details of her past. That man that plays with the knowledge of her past. Y/n doesn't recognize where she's running, not until she's standing in front of the women's restroom of the office building of the Navy base. She prays that the toilet isn't occupied when she tries to open the door with her shaking hands. A sigh of relief leaves her aching lungs when she opens the door, just a small gap to slip inside the spacious room, and locks the door while sliding down on the floor.

She feels the panic in her chest squeezing her lungs like someone is sitting on her ribcage. While digging her fingers painfully into her thighs, creating small moon shaped marks on her pantyhose clad legs, she tries to take some proper breaths despite the feeling of huge pressure in her chest. When she notices that breathing is getting more difficult every second the young woman starts a fight with the pocket of her tight pencil skirt. Her mobile, it has to be there somewhere. She took it with her when she went outside to enjoy her coffee in the morning sun. The coffee Bob brought her earlier. The same coffee which is now spilled somewhere on the concrete on the base. Bob, she needs to call Bob. He will help her.

Her breathing becomes more ragged but when she finally reaches her mobile it feels like a silver lining. Y/n's hands are shaking so badly that she isn't sure if she's able to unlock her mobile let alone make a proper call. She feels her vision starting to blur and white spots are currently dancing in front of her. Bobby. She can make out his name on the display of the shaking phone in her hands. When she hears the dial tone she knows that there's only one condition which separates her from getting help: they're already in the air, training the recruits.

"Hey y/n, can I come to your office later? Where about to go back into class, the crabs are already waiting." She hears Bob chuckle. The Daggers often call the recruits 'crabs', only God knows why.

"Bo - Bobby…" Y/n tries to speak, but it's just a painful attempt to breathe when she tries to say Robert's name.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" The aviator instantly notices that something must be wrong with his female friend. He makes out his name but other than that he only hears the woman wheezing on the other end of the phone.

"Y/n, sunshine. Calm down, where are you? Are you hurt?" Bob tries not to panic but he's worried for the young IT-specialist. Something must've happened to her otherwise she wouldn't have called him on his mobile at work, let alone her ragged breathing he can hear over the phone.

"H- help… breathe… can't." Y/n chokes on her words, she's afraid. Afraid that she passes out before Bob can find her, afraid that Welsh finds her in this state. Afraid of the demons of her past, lingering in the back of her mind.

"Fuck… ok. Where are you? I'm coming, but where are you?" Robert is already on his way to her office, he needs to find her and she has to be in her office, after all it's still early in the morning and under normal circumstances she would sit at her desk and do whatever magic she can on her computer. The young aviator can't remember if he has ever sprinted along the corridors of the office building that fast before. On his way over to y/n's office with his mobile still pressed to his ear he nearly knocks down Maverick but he doesn't even notice Pete sidestepping to make room for the running pilot.

"R-restrooms…" Y/n nearly gags out her location.

It feels like a lifetime until she hears a loud knocking on the door of the women's restrooms. Her mobile is long gone, laying discarded on the cold tiles. The knocking gets more persistent but in her panicked state y/n doesn't remember that this has to be Bob. Whimpering she presses both hands on her ears.

"Y/n? Can you open the door?" Floyd tries once more time to get an answer out of the woman in the room before him.

"Floyd. Where's the fire?" Bob feels a strong hand on his shoulder. Startled by the sudden touch he turns around just to look directly at his Captain.

"Cap, it's y/n. Something is wrong, she called me all panicked." Bob explains as short as possible not waiting a second for Mav's reply and turns himself one more time in the direction of the still closed door.

"Y/n. It's Bobby, I'm opening the door, okay? Stay away from the door." Robert warns the woman on the other side before he gets himself ready to break the door. But the same touch as seconds ago stops him in his actions.

"We can't break the door. Here let me…" And with that Maverick takes a step closer to the door and fumbles with the lock. Mere seconds later the door opens with a click. "Amelia used to lock herself when she was small…" Pete gives a nearly inaudible explanation, but Bob doesn't lose any more time and rushes inside the spacious cubicle. The sight of the woman in the corner of the room nearly breaks his heart. He immediately lowers himself to the floor keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"Sunshine, hey look at me. It's Bobby. You're safe…" He talks to y/n who is curled into herself, knees pressed into her chest, her head on her knees with her shaking hands over her head as if she wants to protect herself. The second thing he notices is the young woman's ragged breathing which is way too fast to get enough oxygen into her body. She's hyperventilating. With cautious movements he nears her shoulders with his warm hands, softly touching her shaking frame.

"Sunshine, please look at me."

Bob, she can hear Bob's voice. How can he always be so calm, especially now when there seems to be not enough air in the room to breathe properly. She slowly looks up, despite her blurry vision and the spots dancing in her sight she can make out the familiar friendly face of her friend.

"Yes that's it. Can I come closer to you?" The young man asks before he starts an attempt to invade y/n's personal space further. He notices her clenched fists and her struggling to breathe properly.

"H- he- help…" Y/n manages to gasp, in hope that Bob would understand her. He crawls another step closer to the huddled form of the young woman in front of him and grabs her smaller clammy hands in his warm ones. His thumb strokes over the knuckles of her hands. When she's more aware of her surroundings she holds Robert's hands like a lifeline. She trusts him, now more than ever with both her boyfriends gone.

"You're safe y/n. I got you. Feel my heart and my breathing." He takes the chance and lays one of her hands on his chest. The risk is big that this physical contact is too much for her but he needs to take that risk. Fortunately she nods her head and clearly tries her best to follow Bob's breathing. She feels her heart beating violently in her chest almost painfully hitting the insides of her ribcage like her heart wants to break out of its cage. But now her focus is on the calm and steady beating of the pilot’s heart kneeling in front of her. Bob also notices her being a bit calmer than at the beginning when he stepped into the room. Her breathing starts to sound more controlled and her clenched fists are not as tight anymore. After some more minutes of Robert whispering calming words she feels her breathing slowly being normal again. When the exhaustion sets in she tries to hold her body up in the sitting position but she feels like a huge weight is pulling her under. Bob feels her struggling to support her own body and sits himself beside her and let the young woman sagging against him, shivering like she just stepped out of a freezer.

"You're doing good, sunshine. I got you."

---

Maverick was as shocked as Bob as the door to restroom opened and their gaze landed on the young IT-specialist cowering in the corner of the room. Not to overwhelm y/n he restrained himself and didn't intervene the scene which unfolds before him.

Now, with the woman calm and breathing sufficiently he takes a step into the room speaking up to make himself noticeable, hoping he wouldn't scare her off.

"Bob? Let's bring her into my office. My couch is more comfortable than the cold tiles here." Robert just nods in the direction of his Captain but thinking about how they would get the clearly exhausted girl into the Captain's office down the hall.

"Y/n? Mav is here, you wanna lay down in his office?" He whispers, propping up the young woman's body to get her attention. Y/n just gives a small nod of confirmation.

---

The way to Maverick's office was a blur for y/n, too exhausted from the previous panic attack. So she now finds herself slowly waking up, huddled under a thin blanket, laying on the couch in the Captain's office. When she gets her bearings back she can make out Bob sitting in one of the visitor chairs at Mav's desk, quietly talking to the Captain who seems to be sporting a headache with the way he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Bob is the first to notice y/n waking up. He hurries over to her, crouching in front of the couch.

"Hey y/n. There you are." He smiles softly at his friend. "You had a panic attack, you called me…" Bob helps her sitting up on the couch and takes a seat beside her to give her somewhat the feeling of support.

"I- I'm so sorry… Captain Mitchell. I- I'm…" She is at a loss for words, too embarrassed by the whole ordeal but in the back of her mind the situation that led to the panic attack is coming back to her too fast for her liking. Welsh talking about her ex, him knowing his name. What else does this man know? What details does he have? And why does he know all of this?

Pete stands up from his position at his desk and makes his way over to Bob and y/n. He takes an uncomfortable seat on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch not too close to the female but near enough to get a close look at the frightened woman.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, y/n. And please, I'm Pete for you, or Mav." He says in a light voice winking at her.

It's Bob's turn to talk to his friend. "Y/n, do you remember what happened?" He tests the water cautiously, aware that he probably wouldn't get an answer from his shy friend.

Y/n knows she needs help, Jake and Bradley are still gone with no information when they will be back in town. And so she starts to tell both men how she received anonymous messages on her mobile, how Welsh harassed her at the Hard Deck and the reason for her panic attack today.

Pete and Robert are at a loss for words when she finally finishes her explanations. Both men have to restrain themselves not to show her the pure rage they're feeling now.

Bob squeezes one of her hands to get her attention. She looks up from her lap and a tear is making its way down her cheek.

"I don't want to be an inconvenience at base. I'm too sensitive and …" But Maverick doesn't let her finish her sentence.

"Y/n, you're not an inconvenience. And the only person who is at fault here is Daniel Welsh. We don't know if he is also responsible for the messages you received but he harassed you in person. On our base there is no place for harassment and abuse. I need to talk to the Admiral. Unfortunately he is on a security conference the next two days. But until then I -" Mav looks at Bob "WE will make sure, that Welsh is not able to come near you again. And with the Admiral we can kick him off base immediately."

---

"You're coming with me today, no back talk!" Bob says in a stern but friendly voice. Mav made sure to dismiss his aviator early today to make sure y/n is safe and sound and doesn't have to go back home alone.

Y/n let out a small chuckle when she sees Bob pushes up his glasses. "You're just as bossy as Jake, he's bad influence for you, Bobby." She says as they make their way to Bob's car in the parking lot of the base.

"I don't want to intrude. I can just drive home and you can call me later?" She suggests. The fear of being annoying is too big to just accept the offer of her friend to stay the night at his house in his spare bedroom.

"Oh no, I don't do this for you. I AM bored out of my mind AND I really want a decent home cooked meal and Hangman and Rooster don't seem to shut up about your cooking skills so I hope you can teach me something later. What do you think?"

Y/n lets out a loud laugh, from a panic attack and the feeling of suffocation, to feel light and calm in the presence of a friend in just some hours. She really needs to pay Bob back great time.

He opens his car door and she slips into his truck, shaking her head in amusement.

Bob on the other hand scanned their environment on the way to the parking lot and his car. He knows that Welsh will have an unpleasant talk with Maverick but he wants to be sure this guy isn't lurking around the corner and lets y/n spiral into another panic or anxiety attack just by showing his dirty evil face.

---

"Lieutenant Welsh, my office!" Mav barks in the hangar when he makes out the figure of the man he wants to kill slowly and painfully. He knows he has to play this smart. He has to wait for the Admiral to be back but he needs to act now to keep y/n safe. He is going to make Welsh's life as uncomfortable as possible until he can kick him off base and out of the Navy.

---

This fucking bitch. This fucking stupid bitch. The Captain had his ass when he called him into his office. He's not allowed to sit in on the teaching lessons of the Lieutenant Commanders, neither fly with the recruits when they have training in the air. He even isn't allowed to help the mechanics with the jets. He has to evaluate flight data of the last five years? Does he look like some stupid secretary? And he got an earful how he should treat colleagues at the base. This little cunt ran straight to the Captain and cried crocodile tears how the bad Lieutenant Welsh treated her. This has to be the reason for the Captain's tantrum. You will be sorry for that y/n y/ln.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

@nerdgirljen

@abaker74

@crazyunsexycool

@itsarabellebabes

[azzie-beastbinder]

Actions Have Consequences

Among the things a young Reckoner learns is how to navigate by alleyway, by the bottoms of roads, by rooftops, and by windows. Satoru began learning as soon as he received his first prosthetics, a week after the fire that took his hands and his parents. Thistlefur had understood his desire to not be helpless again and had helped Satoru hone himself into a weapon fine enough to take the position of Hyozan boss by the age of fifteen.

This was why he slid into the Imperial office through the forty-fifth floor’s window rather than take the stairs like a normal person.

The funniest part, to Satoru at least, was that the window was both unlocked and open, meaning that Autumn-Paws expected him.

The kitsune in question was sitting at a desk stacked so high with paperwork that it probably violated a building code all on its own. He finished looking over another falsified field report from one of the enforcers under his command, a scowl across his muzzle. “Satoru.”

Satoru hung his jacket on the coat rack that Autumn-Paws kept by the window for him. Knowing what he was about to ask for a favor about, he also undid the top two buttons of his shirt to prepare. “Come on, Autumn, I climb all the way up the building and you don’t even turn to see me?” he complained, walking over and purposefully leaning against the only clean spot on Autumn-Paws’s desk.

Autumn-Paws sighed, set aside the report, and leaned back in his chair. If he were a human, he’d have heavier bags under his eyes than Satoru himself did. “Please tell me you’re not here to ask me to ‘conveniently’ keep my enforcers away from somewhere again.”

“Quite the opposite.” Satoru reached into his pocket and withdrew a datastick, which he placed on the desk in front of Autumn-Paws. He had made five identical ones – one for Autumn-Paws, one entrusted to Thistlefur, one entrusted to Nari, one given to Ghostmark to give to Koda, and one that he now kept in a compartment in his right prosthetic. “I need you to get this to your mother. We have evidence that the people behind all of those targeted non-citizenship laws were conspiring together.” In addition to what Nari had found about the previous Emperor and Ichiro being brothers, Satoru had contacted Tosari – the Dokuchi Reckoners’ doctor – and had Koda’s own blood test added to it to put a worm in the Regent’s ear about Ichiro and Yuna having a grandson.

Autumn-Paws didn’t seem convinced as he picked up the datastick. “And how am I supposed to be sure that it won’t brick every computer in Eiganjo?” he asked.

Satoru rolled his eyes. “If that was my intent, I wouldn’t have brought it to you, I’d have done it my own damn self. I wouldn’t jeopardize what you’re doing just for a prank of all things.”

“...Are you sure that this will help? Because Mother will ask where the information came from,” Autumn-Paws warned.

“Of course. Which is why I got it from existing information in your databases. Nothing you don’t have clearance for.” Which, as the sole child of the Regent, was most of the Imperial databases and archives. “And I formatted the last bit to look like an on-site lab analysis of blood splatter. As far as your mother and the Emperor will know, it’s entirely you doing some proper digging after a strange bit of information came from routine field work.”

“You scare me with your knowledge of Imperial proceedings,” Autumn-Paws groaned, rubbing his face. “You’d better make this worth my while, Satoru.”

Satoru grinned and angled his shoulder so that his shirt slipped a bit, exposing a little more tattooed skin. “I can make it worth your while right now, if that’s what you want,” he suggested, knowing that Autumn-Paws knew exactly what he meant just based on how the kitsune’s eyes narrowed like a wolf finding wounded prey.

“You’re terrible,” Autumn-Paws growled as he shoved some of the papers onto the floor to pin Satoru down across the desk in their place.

Satoru didn’t argue.

Satoru’s footsteps were silent and a bit stiff. The alleyway wall didn’t judge when he paused to lean back against it. He had seen Autumn-Paws writing the report about the Hayashis to Regent Light-Paws while Satoru had been cleaning himself up after their...tryst. There were many benefits from continuing to associate with Autumn-Paws, and Satoru had just gotten two of those benefits at once. Three if you count not getting arrested afterwards.

Satoru rubbed his face, making sure not to accidentally cut himself with his prosthetics. He knew that Koda was busy on another plane, one connected to Kamigawa up in the Sokenzan mountains. He also knew that, undoubtedly, Koda was doing something incredibly stupid. And, like clockwork, he was able to check his communicator and see that Koda had decided to fight ten people in a row in a duel.

There are no words to express the depths of exhaustion that were reflected in Satoru’s next sigh.

At least Koda was winning.

Satoru glanced up and down the alleyway, then allowed himself to press himself more against the wall as he watched the final duel. His eyebrow hit his hairline when he heard that Koda would be fighting a High Marshal. While he wasn’t familiar with Ixalan – or, rather, Torrezon – beyond the fact that Malcolm and Breeches had been from there and talked a lot about living on a pirate ship, a military hierarchy was a lot more understandable for a man like Satoru, who kept an ear to the ground of the Imperial Court’s operations at all times and grabbed disillusioned ex-Imperials to join his gang whenever he could.

He watched the fight in its entirety, his concern growing more and more as the fight escalated. At first, Koda matched the vampire’s combat style, only for him to finally slip into something more akin to the budoka and the Order of Jukai – not a surprise, considering the Dokuchi Reckoners counted the Order of Jukai as its closest ally. Koda had referred to them as his cousins, and Satoru hadn’t learned enough about the Dokuchi Reckoners while training under Ayame to determine if that was a metaphor or not.

The thing that surprised Satoru the most was when Koda wound up coming out as the victor. “What in the hells are you made of, kid?” Satoru muttered to himself. “I know you’re half-oni, but even an oni would have cracked well before then...”

That was when he realized something important, a clue they had missed. He switched to another screen on his communicator to text Nari. I just got a potential lead on our search for whoever the hell fathered Koda. Look into Sokenzan oni that are empowered in battle more than oni on the whole usually are. I’ll be back shortly.

Satoru tucked away his communicator and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, as it usually did before he was about to get jumped. He pushed off of the wall and drew the sword from his back, holding it tightly in his left hand. Most people only ever trained to fight right-handed or fight others who were right-handed, which was why Thistlefur had honed Satoru’s left-handed swordsmanship as well.

Five people, dressed in the understated yet still-too-polished to actually be their position clothing that “undercover” Imperial enforcers wore, came towards him from where the alleyway opened up to the street. Each of them were taller than Satoru – and Satoru was not a short man, nearly reaching six feet tall himself – and definitely more muscular, as though they had been taking steroids from the day they were born. Satoru suppressed the urge to grin, instead settling on a proper scowl. Five against one? Child’s play.

“You’ve been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Reckoner,” one of the men snarled.

Satoru’s tattoos curled across his skin, preparing to launch into the air to help fight. Though Satoru was not usually one for pre-combat quips, he couldn’t help himself just this once. “That’s what Reckoners do.”

They came at him one at a time. His tattoos flung themselves from his skin, the single-eyed monsters snaking through the air to slam into or wrap around each enforcer. Satoru’s sword caught the blade of the closest enforcer and disarmed him easily. A metal elbow to the side of the head sent that one sprawling. One down, four to go.

The second was trying in vain to fight off Satoru’s tattoos. One curled fist of metal to the nose until something broke dropped that one faster than the first. Two down, three left.

The third was doing a better job of fighting off the tattoos than the fourth was, who was currently being mildly choked. Satoru caught the sword of the third man in his prosthetic hand and kicked him in the nuts with his steel-toed boot. Once the man doubled over in pain, he received a metal-plated knee to the chin and a leather-armored elbow to the ear. The fourth man also went down once the tattoos were done. Four down, last one.

When Satoru turned to face the last one, he realized too late that he had prioritized them wrong. What the last enforcer held was not a Kamigawan weapon by any stretch of the imagination, not with the horseshoe-like shape and the metal and wood blend. The thunder rifle went off, hidding Satoru right in the center of the chest.

He hit the ground hard.

Breathing hurt. Every piece of metal in his body – implants and prosthetics alike – stopped working. He couldn’t get his hands to move, not enough to get to his sword, so close but also so far. He could only focus enough to think of one question: How did the Imperial Court get thunder rifles?

The fifth enforcer walked over and placed his foot on Satoru’s chest, pushing down until a ragged exhale of pain forced its way past Satoru’s lips. “Lord Hayashi sends his regards, you damn Reckoner.” A sharp kick to Satoru’s ribs was next, breaking something in there.

The other enforcers were now managing to get back up. Fear roiled in Satoru’s gut, knowing what the Imperial Court – especially Ichiro Hayashi himself. The tortures that Reckoners faced before dying in Imperial custody were horror stories that drove the Reckoners to be more violent just to avoid being arrested and dragged away, never to be seen again. Any Reckoner that was arrested was unlikely to ever escape, and if they were murdered in custody, their body was never recovered. Satoru had already lost dozens of his Hyozans to the Imperials in that way since he became the Hyozan boss.

“You two, make sure you drag him so we can get back to Lord Hayashi,” the thunder rifle-wielding one commanded as the others got back up. “He’ll pay us top dollar for a slightly used Reckoner boss, after all.”

If Satoru had any strength left, he would have snarled at the idea of being sold to a sadist like a cow on Thunder Junction. As it was, his lip twitched, but the overwhelming pain made it impossible to move, much less speak.

One of the enforcers, the first one that Satoru had dropped, turned suddenly, looking at something that Satoru couldn’t see from his current position. “What the hell is that thing?” It was the last thing the man said before six black, smoky claws pierced through his chest and ripped him in half so the left and right sides of his body hit the ground a split second apart. The entity – it couldn’t have been human – was a black smoke like the night itself hidden under a simple black gi that looked ancient by modern stealth standards. The only point of color were the two slits of light purple that served as eyes.

“What are you idiots waiting for? Kill it!” the thunder rifle wielder yelled, stepping away from Satoru and charging up the thunder rifle again. Before it could finish charging up, the spirit ninja closed the distance and sliced the weapon in half, then did the same to the enforcer’s head.

The other three dropped their retrieved weapons and tried to run, but based on the speed of the spirit ninja and the cries of shock followed by the thumps of bodies hitting the ground, Satoru knew they didn’t make it.

The spirit ninja returned and knelt down next to Satoru. One of its claws – each hand had three claws, no hands – gently prodded at Satoru’s nonfunctioning prosthetics. When Satoru couldn’t react by moving it, the spirit ninja slowly pulled Satoru up into a sitting position and ensured that his sword was sheathed across his back again. Every move hurt like Satoru had been shot again, but the spirit didn’t stop until he was standing and leaning heavily against its surprisingly-solid gi with an arm wrapped around its shoulders. Satoru had no choice but to accept the help that it gave him. Walking was nearly impossible, but the spirit ninja kept Satoru upright as they moved further into the alleyway.

It was only now that Satoru finally realized who this was. He should have expected it – of course the Dokuchi Reckoners and their patrons would be keeping an eye on him while he was working with them. “Many thanks, Kuyokami,” he mumbled, his words slurring.

Though the kami-in-ninja garb did not have a face, Satoru could have sworn that it smiled.

[shadowjax]

The Dragon’s Blade

Identity

A03

Natasha Romanoff x reader/oc

Chapter Summary: Now that it looks like you’ll be staying for a while, best to get your ID situated. Although you don’t have one to begin with.

Warnings: none

A/N: No I did not disappear pffffft.

Shares and reblogs are appreciated

The following morning, you met Maria to complete some paperwork and collect an ID badge for the building. Her office was quite simple, with a dim light shining from the shield logo on the wall.

“Since you technically don’t exist, creating an alias will be easy. Explaining to the government we retrieved you from a HYDRA base would raise some alarms. As far as they’re concerned you’re..?” She waved her wrist for you to answer, typing away at a computer on her desk. “Give me a name, don’t make me pick one.” 

You remember becoming fascinated with a phoenix statue when you were first let out of the compound. Fènghuáng Ashryver Yùe, you wrote on a piece of paper in front of you. Code name- Dragon. Since there was no way to track how old you were due to the serum, Maria scrambled a random date and year to write for your birthday. She Snapped a quick photo and placed it on your badge. All the government knows is you went off the grid years ago. 

“It's a shame you won’t let me take a picture without the mask.” You felt your eyes soften at her comment, knowing that if she saw you without it she’d most likely find you repulsing. "Welcome to the team, agent," Maria said with a wink as she handed you your badge before walking out of her office.

“Thank you, Commander.” 

~~~~

"A strong name for a strong agent, I must say," Dr. Lee joked as she looked at your badge. It was reassuring to finally have some form of identity after having it taken away for so long, and a small smile appeared on your lips. "I’m curious—were you ever given a name before you became the top soldier?" You sat on a couch in Dr. Lee's office as she examined your new badge, your mask resting on the edge of her desk. You couldn’t help but notice how tidy her office was, far more organized than it had been during your last visit.  

“Yes. I don’t remember anymore. We were their property. Identities were not important.” 

You were not entirely sure why the two of you were aware of your names, it was just known in your brain since you could remember. Perhaps you had given it to one another or yourselves, that was the preferred answer. Leaving your name as the one thing that was yours while you were in that horrid place.

Mentioning this knowledge once had led to a severe beating, an early sign of deviation that explained the semi-failed experiment you were part of. Eventually, you managed to repress that knowledge once you became the top soldier. Finally repressing the knowledge once you become the top soldier, at least that’s what you had hoped they believed as well.

“I guess they really drilled that into you once your training began and you were assigned missions.” Dr.Lee took another glance at the badge before handing it off to you. “Ashryver? From the Throne of Glass series? I like it. By the way, my English name is Lysandra.” 

Unable to practice sign language while your knuckles were healing she gave you books to read to keep you occupied. “English name?” 

“It’s much easier to pronounce, plus sounds cooler than my Chinese name. You know Maria seems to have taken an interest in you, hope you aren’t trying to steal her away or I’ll have to make you disappear.” Your smile dropped and your blood ran cold. You held your hands up in the air and she began to laugh. “I’m kidding, but she’s right, you do have a cute smile. Besides, I know you have a thing for Romanoff.” 

You looked at her confused, your breathing froze for a moment. There was an odd tightening in your chest, something to figure out later. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Sitting next to her during movie nights, the training sessions and your face just confirms everything. It’s cute seeing you finally found a teammate to warm up to.” She kicked off her shoes and began to eat a bowl of ramen so fast it was like she hadn’t eaten in days.

“So you and Maria…are close?” She started to choke for a moment, and after slamming her fist into her chest her breathing returned to normal.

“Of course. I mean, we’ve been working for the same agency for quite some time now. I was once a field medic, I wouldn’t have made it so far without her or Cho.” Lysandra scoffs for a moment and leans back in her chair. Tossing her glasses on the desk and folding her arms. “Having a support system when life throws curveballs makes them easier to overcome. I’m glad you found someone who can relate to your situation, and give you a better understanding of how to adjust with the rest of society. Forming different types of relationships is normal and balancing them out with your own is better than being alone.” She plopped a few books on the different relationships that exist to help you understand better. 

“We’re both spies, observant, it’s instinct.” Wanda has finally stopped trying to tap into your mind whenever you enter the room. You didn’t mind when either one lowered their guard around you and treated you like a person. “I don’t mind her presence.” The need to be close to someone left a painful sore on the sides of your lips. 

~~~~

"Don’t you think you’re getting a bit too close to this patient? You usually go to great lengths to connect, but I’ve never seen you push it this far." Maria entered Lysandra’s office, in the middle of getting ready to head to her room. 

“Before I came here, I was arranged to be married to a man I did not know. My family was terribly old-fashioned. I had no particular talent in anything nor did I excel in school. So instead of becoming a stay-at-home mom I fled on the first boat out. Thankfully SHIELD needed combat nurses at a desperate level. I’m grateful that a commanding officer saw my desperation for a job, saw my inexperience, and pulled me out of there before I was blown to smithereens.” Their eyes met from across the room, and Lysandra’s knees melted like usual whenever staring into Maria’s. “I got a second chance, and so do they.” 

“You were terrible out on the field.” Breaking the silence the two of you laughed at the memory. 

“I’m not THAT bad anymore, at least now I know how to fire a gun.” She had a big smile on her face. Coat and bag in hand she held the door open. 

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

~~~~

You entered the lounge, just in time for “movie night”. Expecting to find Natasha and Wanda in their usual places you came to find the couch empty. 

“Friday?” You raised, looking around the room seeing no sign of anyone being in the room for quite some time. 

“Yes Agent…?” The robotic voice chimes from the speakers in the room. 

“Where is everyone?” You signed hoping it would be picked up by the cameras. 

“Agent Romanoff and Maximoff left on a mission 2 hours ago.” 

“Thank you.” Now that you think about it, the place was a bit emptier than usual. An odd feeling surfaced, not knowing what to do. You’ve followed patterns all your life. To be on your own with free will wasn’t something you were familiar with at all. 

You heard the doc and Commander laughing in the hall, you slipped into an empty room to avoid drawing attention. Once they passed by you went straight toward your cell, and that odd pinching feeling in your chest began to surface. A familiar emptiness begins to spread throughout your body.

[crazycurly-77]

The bet - Chapter 3 

All four of you were heading to the house of the suspect. 

“DiNozzo. McGee. You are going through the backdoor. Y/L/N, you are coming with me through the front. We don't know if a bomb is in the house” Gibbs ordered and you split up. 

Slowly you all entered the house, but nobody was there. You searched every room for proof that the suspect were building bombs, but you found none. 

“Okay. Then we have to wait until he comes back. DiNozzo, McGee, you take the first shift. Y/L/N and I will take the second overnight.” Gibbs stated. 

“Oh no. Not a night alone with Gibbs in a car. That will be torture!” you thought desperately. So what now? 

“Boss…” you tried. 

“What? Got a problem?” he snapped. 

“Uhm, no.” you shook your head. 

“Good. We will meet at 9pm at the office.”

So that was settled and you didn't knew how to survive this night in such a close proximity in the confinement of the car. How was it possible not to embarrass yourself? And after all, there was still the bet with Abby. 

You all headed back to the office to get the car for the stakeout. Of course you had to sit again between Gibbs and Tony. You were lost in your thoughts for a short while, but again your heart was racing and you counted inwardly the miles until you were back at the bureau and could get out of the Truck. 

At the base Tim and Tony immediately changed the cars and drove back to the house of the suspect Matt Warren. 

And at the office you and Gibbs sat at your desks and discussed what you had as evidence. 

“So, Warren has the knowledge and we have his fingerprints on the third bomb that nearly killed an admiral.” Gibbs summarized. 

“Yes, but nobody saw him close to the exploded cars and in his house there was no evidence that he built the bombs.” you argumented. 

That made Gibbs angry and he shouted “Y/L/N! Two navy soldiers are dead and we have the fingerprints of Warren on one of the bombs. Do you really think that he is innocent?!”

You shrugged your shoulders “no, but I think it would be helpful for the trial if he confessed building all three bombs and putting them on the cars.”

“Sure. That's why we go on stakeout to get him as soon as he returns to his house.” Gibbs said. 

Sooner than thought it was time to take the shift over from DiNozzo and McGee. On the way to the house Gibbs and you bought some food and water and then began to wait sitting in the car. 

You thought about beginning a conversation, but since Gibbs didn't want to talk much you better left him alone. 

So you sat side by side. Both silent and lost in your own thoughts. 

Eventually he said “it's late, take a nap Y/L/N.”

You watched him to see if it's a test, but no he was serious. So you answered “gladly” and tried to make yourself as comfortable as possible. 

In fact you fell asleep in no time and after a while you woke up with your head on a soft and good smelling cushion. 

Slowly opening your eyes you tried to shake away sleep and focus on where you were and after a few seconds you knew it. You sat in a car on stakeout with Gibbs and your head was laying on his shoulder!!! 

Oh no. Realizing that you sat up immediately and tried to summon yourself with your heart bumping. 

“Will he say anything to that?” You thought afraid of his reaction. 

But no, he uttered nothing about it. He just looked at you, smiled and mumbled “good morning. Hope you slept well.”

You nodded “yes” and your cheeks were flaming red. 

Towards the morning you two were very stiff and decided to take a short walk. So that it wouldn't be too noticeable, you strolled as if you were a couple - arm in arm.

You felt his hand on the small of your back right above your buttocks and you felt him under your hand on his back, too. 

It felt soooo good. Boy, you really could get used to that. 

You leaned into him, smiled dreamily and were on cloud nine. Strolling along the sidewalk he suddenly turned to you and pushed you against the wall of the house behind you. His hands were on both sides of your head and he leaned very much into you with his whole body. 

His movement was so sudden, that you were surprised to find yourself pressed against a wall by Gibbs. 

You felt all of him pressed against you and his heart was bumping as madly as yours. 

You tried to think straight and be professional, but all you could thought was

“Oh my gosh!” before your mind went blank. To play a couple seemed to be his tactic to not be detected by Warren, but it plunged your mind into pure chaos. 

Gibbs on the other side seemed to stay alert at what was going on. “The suspect is coming home. Just go with it and lay your arms around my neck.” his deep voice whispered in your ear giving you goosebumps all over your body. You felt his cheek on yours and his lips on your ear as he told you his plan. 

Your whole body was in overdrive. Your hands played with his short hair on his neck and you pulled him into you. Who was Warren? There were only you two in your mind and just a little move of your head and you would be kissing him!!!

He moved his hands around you to hold you tight. Oh yes, that was where you wanted to be. Boy, how you wanted to kiss him, consequences be damned. You'll do it. Now. It was simply impossible not to kiss him thoroughly. 

You began to turn your head towards him thinking dreamingly that you will feel his lips on yours as you heard him mumble “He's inside the house. Let's go and grab him.” With that he let you go and before you could react in any way he turned around, pulled out his gun and went to the house. 

You trembled all over your body and were still in a haze. Trying to get back to reality and to calm down you took a deep breath, grabbed your own weapon and followed him. 

Boy, you were one second away to kiss your sexy boss. One second. You were once again one second too slow.

(To be continued...2 more chapters to go)

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

Here you will find the other chapters of this story

Back to the overview of this story

Back to the main Masterlist

Back to the alternative Masterlist

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

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27, @ladyzombiielove

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

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: Board Games

Professor Trein and Ortho talk about board games with Gray.

Find the rest of the chapters here and the story is crossposted on AO3 here.

Professor Trein’s office smells of wood and old books and tea and, if you’re standing in the back in a specific spot, a little bit like cat pee. The chairs, despite being old, are squishy and soft, and there’s a sort of reading nook in the corner with orange-yellow lamps that give off a gentle, soothing light. The entire place feels a little like a nice corner of a library somewhere, like the platonic ideal of a soothing study space.

I don’t end up here that often- Trein keeps relatively strict office hours and I don’t like to bother him on the few breaks he gets between classes. But he’s more or less allowed me to camp here when I have breaks between classes or clubs or what have you. “As long as it helps you with schoolwork,” he says.

In all honesty, I have no idea what the faculty members have been told about me. I more or less assume it’s the same as what the other students know- I live in Ramshackle, I’m a ‘special circumstances’ student with Grim, I can’t do magic, all of that. From what the other students have told me, most people assume I’m Grim’s owner or otherwise previously connected to him, despite not knowing him prior to the orientation ceremony, and that my being here without magic is contingent on his enrollment as well. Which isn’t wrong, I guess, but also leaves out the bit where I’m effectively trapped here, and waiting on Crowley to figure out a way to get me home. And that I have no functional idea how the world works.

Honestly, I think they might believe he rescued me from a cult or something, considering how little knowledge I have about everything, but they never come out and say anything of the sort. Given how weird everyone at Night Raven is generally, and how weird Crowley is in particular, maybe this is just to be expected.

Regardless, Trein is nice, even if the only reason for that is I seem to be the only student who genuinely pays attention in his class. Admittedly, most people in NRC seem more focused on spellwork or practical magic than the lecture-based History of Magic course. But I’m just happy to have a class I can do properly, and I have a lot to catch up on. Anyway, I was always pretty good at history at home. I think Trein appreciates my effort.

We’re both in his office now. Trein’s pen scratches away, grading papers at his desk. You can type up your papers for Trein’s class, but you can’t hand them in unless they’re printed. I don’t think he even owns a computer. He owns a phone, but it’s a landline- I’ve heard him, in passing, complain that his daughters are trying to get him a cell phone and how he doesn’t need one, thank you very much. Sometimes there’s the jingle or crinkle of one of Lucius’ toys, or the soft, raspy slurping of him licking himself, but today, he’s settled on the chair opposite me, tail tucked around his nose. Sassy’s occupying the area beneath that chair. Trein encourages me to bring her along when I stop by, even though she’s technically not supposed to be in the school building. He says it’s to make sure I’m ‘caring for her properly’ but I think he also just likes cats and wants to see her.

I’m curled up in one of the chairs, skimming through a thick history book. It’s a little more difficult to get through than I’d like to admit. I probably need one of those ‘history for babies’ books. But I can connect the dots well enough on my own, and when I ask Trien for help with something, he’s at least willing to just look a little incredulous instead of outright teasing me.

It’s a quiet moment, one of the things that’s kind of rare at Ramshackle. The ghosts and Grim are nice, but they can be a bit loud. Especially Grim. But now he’s off with Ace and Deuce and I can take a moment to relax and read-

“Professor! I’m here for our match!” The door doesn’t bang open or anything (in fact, it opens quite politely) and the voice isn’t particularly loud, but it’s unexpected and I was preoccupied, so I practically knock the chair over when I jump. Lucius skitters away and Sassy hops up on my lap, her fur fluffing up like an urchin.

Professor Trein sweeps over, gathering up Lucius before pausing at my seat. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Just, uh. Wasn’t expecting that.” I glance over at the new entrant, the one who startled me and see- uh, okay, I’m actually not sure.

My first impression is that it’s a person. It’s person shaped, with hands and a face and all that. But it’s also clearly mechanical- there’s a faceplate covering its mouth, its body is made up of interlocking metal sections, and it’s not standing on the ground- it’s floating on twin jets of blue flame coming from the thrusters at the end of its legs. It has some kind of simulacrum of hair- blue fire waves idly from the top of its head, and there’s a spout of it coming from its chest as well, right over its heart. Or where its heart would be. When I look into its face, it blinks yellow eyes at me and I can see shifting mechanisms in its irises, spinning and contracting like a focusing camera lens.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” it says, and its voice only has the barest hint of a mechanical edge to it. The way its face moves is impressively perfect- exactly like a human expression. I think it’s supposed to be a young boy, since the voice and body structure remind me of one.

“It’s fine,” I say. Are floating mechanical boys normal here? Trein doesn’t seem freaked out at all. But then again, presumably he knows this mechanical floating boy, which is such a weird sentence to think. I guess I should just act normal. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t!” He smiles- I think he smiles, anyway. I can’t see his mouth, but his eyes do the crinkly-squinty thing that happens when people smile. “I’m Ortho. And you’re Gray, the prefect of Ramshackle! Also a first year, and a student under special circumstances with the direbeast Grim.”

“Oh, uh. You know about me?” A lot of people are aware that I’m the Ramshackle prefect and also the only girl on campus, but a lot of them also don’t bother to learn my name.

“Of course! I keep files on all the students in the school.” Ortho looks immensely proud of himself for that. It’s… a little creepy. “Also, my brother keeps track of all the cats on campus. I think he’s jealous you have one.”

As if on cue, Sassy leans forward, fur lowering. Ortho lifts one of his hands and she sniffs it a few times before deciding he’s not a threat. “May I pet her?” Ortho asks, taking his gaze off her to check with me.

“If she’s fine with it, you can do whatever you want,” I say. Ortho runs his hand over Sassy and she leans acceptingly into his touch. “Are you a cat person?”

“Well, my brother is. He loves cats,” Ortho says. “I like all animals, though.” That’s the second time he’s mentioned his brother. Can robots have brothers? Maybe they were created together or something? Is there more than one robot at this school? Have I missed it?

“Ortho and I have board game matches weekly,” Professor Trein says. “I must have misremembered the day.”

Ortho droops a little. “Oh. Were you in the middle of something? We can reschedule, if you need.”

“No, no, I don’t want to interrupt anything,” I say. “Let me gather up my stuff and I’ll head to the library or Ramshackle or something.”

“Nonsense,” Professor Trein says with a wave of his hand. “Both of you are free to stay. Let me get the board set up, Ortho, and then we can begin.”

I settle back in the chair, book in my lap. Ortho extends a hand and a beam of light shoots from his finger to the floor. Sassy follows it with her eyes for a moment before lowering her body and wriggling her butt. Lucius catches on and moves closer as Sassy launches herself at the light, skittering across the floor. Ortho giggles as she swats at the light. “Do you mind if I take a video for my brother?”

“Sure. I don’t mind.” Ortho doesn’t take out a camera or anything. He just looks hard at Sassy, carefully focusing on her as she scrambles after the light he’s producing.

“There,” Ortho says after a minute. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” I say. “I didn’t do anything. It was all Sassy.”

“That’s her name?” Ortho says. I nod. “I should thank her too.” He leans over and starts actually meowing at her. Not even like the meowing noises people make when they’re trying to imitate cats. Real meowing, like he’s playing a recorded sound. Sassy blinks at him, like she wasn’t expecting that either, then she meows back. She reaches out and bops him gently on the nose with a paw. Then she turns away and hops back up on my lap.

“Huh,” Ortho tilts his head to one side, his gaze still fixed on Sassy. “I’ve been trying to update my animal conversation software, but maybe I need to keep fixing it. I can’t understand what she’s saying.”

I stare at him. “You can talk to animals?” People can do that here? Or is it just a robot thing?

“Yes! Sort of, anyway. It’s not the same as the animal linguistics courses they teach here.” Okay. Make a mental note of the fact that people can talk to animals here. That must be useful. Actually, come to think of it, Riddle sometimes talked about speaking with the hedgehogs to learn their personalities. I assumed he’d just meant it more metaphorically, but I guess this means he was actually talking to them. And they were talking back. Weird. “I downloaded some basic animal communication software based on animal behaviors and communication strategies, but I need to build out the actual information the software draws upon more.” Ortho hovers in place, expression distant. “Most of my cat information is based off Lucius, though, so there might be a bit of a disconnect there. Maybe her reactions don’t match up with the data I already have on Lucius.”

He seems to be talking to himself more than me. I can even hear a faint whirring, if I strain my ears, like his motors are kicking into high gear. It’s interrupted when Professor Trein calls, “Ortho. The game is set up.”

Ortho hovers over and settles in the seat Professor Trein set out for him. There are two chairs, smaller but no less comfy than the other ones in the office, set up on either side of a relatively small table. There’s a deck of cards set up on the table, with cards distributed on either side of a small wooden board. I don’t recognize the game at all.

Professor Trein and Ortho seem to know it, though, since they’ve started playing with barely a moment of hesitation. Professor Trein deals out a few cards to each of them before setting the cards aside. I don’t recognize the cards, either. Ace has shown me a deck of cards before, and they’re pretty standard, with only the art of the face cards being different. These ones have animal motifs, things like snakes and panthers and apes. The wooden board is painted with a sort of jungle design, with little wooden meeples that move along long, winding paths. The art’s beautiful.

The gameplay, however, is a little inscrutable to me. I get the basics: Play card, move through jungle. But the board is a loop, so there’s no end goal, and I don’t know what any of the cards do. Both Ortho and Professor Trein play the game with no discussion of the rules, and there’s no way for me to tell who’s winning.

I try to pay attention to the book I’m supposed to be reading, but my gaze keeps wandering back over to the game. There’s a tense look on Professor Trein’s face. Ortho’s expression is perfectly blank as he examines his cards. There’s nothing in his face that might give away what he’s thinking. I lean over the back of my chair as Ortho plays a card, one with a black panther patterned on it.

Professor Trein hums, then pulls a card from his deck, a bear, and lays it over Ortho’s card. Ortho grimaces, then moves both cards to what I assume is the discard pile. Professor Trein then pulls one of the apes from his deck and places it down before scooting his meeple along to another place on the board and drawing up from the deck. Without looking up from his cards, he says, “I thought you were here to study, Gray?”

His tone’s more amused than stern, but I still shrink in embarrassment. “Well, yes, I suppose…”

“We’re not distracting you, are we?” Ortho asks, concerned.

“Maybe a little,” I say. “I’ve never seen the game you’re playing before.”

Ortho’s eyes go wide. “Really? It’s a popular game throughout the Shaftlands and the Land of Dawning, and even in parts of the Queendom of Roses.”

“It is more of a classic game,” Professor Trein says. “Children these days don’t have as much respect for the classics as they used to.”

This is a Twisted Wonderland classic, then. I know they have some games similar to our own here. Riddle’s mentioned chess and checkers, and Azul’s spoken about board games that mimic business deals, so they have something at least similar to monopoly. But this game doesn’t look anything like any board games I know.

“How do you play?” I ask, giving up the pretense of studying completely. Ortho perks up and a flickering hologram appears in front of him.

“It’s simple! The game is based on a story of a human who ended up being raised in a jungle alongside a bunch of other animals. All of the cards are based off animals in the story.” The hologram shows a series of cards, each depicting an animal. Wolves, apes, bears, panthers, snakes… “Each card performs different actions based on the animal! Your goal is to play cards to move your human along the board to get back to the human village, while avoiding obstacles on the board.” The hologram changes to an image of the game board, depicting a few little meeples moving along it.

“Who’s winning?” I ask.

“Mm, well, Professor Trein is ahead,” Ortho says, pointing to the meeples. There’s one in blue, which I assume is his, a little further back on the board, and a red one, presumably Professor Trein’s, a little further up. They’re not that far apart, though. “But there’s still more of the game to go.”

Professor Trein smiles and lays a card down on the board. A wolf. He scoots his meeple a little further down the game board. “Indeed. I look forward to seeing how you get out of this situation.”

Ortho stares at the cards in his hand for only a couple seconds before selecting a new one and laying it down. A snake. His meeple remains motionless, but he selects three cards from the card pile, instead of the one Professor Trein picked at the end of his turn.

I watch them for a while. Professor Trein is making steady pace down the board. Ortho’s pace is more measured- I think Professor Trein is aiming for getting to the end as quick as possible, while Ortho seems to be more focused on slowing Professor Trein down while gathering an arsenal of cards. At one point, Trein plays a card, one patterned with an elephant. Ortho moves all his cards to the discard pile and draws a few new ones, seemingly unaffected by this turn of events.

They play on. The game seems to have some kind of strategy that I’m not picking up on- some cards seem rarer than others and I think Ortho and Professor Trein are playing them at specific times to get their best effects, but I don’t know enough about the game to be sure. Sometimes, they’ll lay cards over each other to prevent movement. There also seem to be spaces on the board that do things- sometimes they’ll land on a space that seems to send them backward or lock them into place for a while or makes them draw extra cards. On occasion, they’ll even play a card on the other player’s turn, which seems to cancel the card’s effects.

After another twenty minutes of play or so, Professor Trein’s meeple is only a scant few paces away from the endline. He has more cards than Ortho, which I think is a good position to be in, though his mouth is still a thin line. He glances at Ortho as his turn ends.

Ortho glances at the board. Glances at his cards. And then smirks. It’s a surprisingly nasty expression for his cute little face to make. And then he flips a card onto the table.

It’s not a card I’ve seen before. This one’s patterned with a tiger, surrounded by fire. My palms prickle- the tiger looks like it’s screaming, or maybe roaring out of the flames.

Professor Trein sighs, but his lips quirk up. Without a word, he drags his meeple back to a point about midway across the board. “I was hoping you hadn’t pulled it yet. Or that I’d made you discard it.”

“Nope! I calculated that you would only make me discard when I’d drawn past a certain threshold of cards, so I made sure to try and pull a lot in the beginning, as well as assess your own card plays to see if you’d gotten it. If you balanced your cards between pulling for new cards and moving, there’s a strong likelihood I would be in a good position if I did draw it!” Ortho beamed. “Though this game still has a thrilling amount of chance! I wasn’t sure I would get the right draws to win at all.”

“What’s the tiger do?” I ask.

“It makes you move your marker back half the spaces you’ve traveled so far down the board,” Professor Trein says. “It’s quite a powerful card, especially so in the late game, which is why there’s only one in the deck. It’s a game of reading your opponent to possibly figure out when they might have gotten it along with trying to get them to discard cards at opportune times. In addition to managing your own cards and pace. There’s quite a lot of strategy involved.”

“Sounds too complicated for me,” I mutter. “I’m terrible at strategy games.”

“I can teach you, if you want,” Ortho offers. “I’m pretty good at strategy games.”

“I think I’m okay. But I appreciate the offer.” I want to focus on learning how to survive in this world before learning gaming strategies.

Ortho hovers next to me as Professor Trein gathers up the game pieces and puts them away. “If you don’t like strategy games, what games do you like?”

“There are a couple I like. My brother’s pretty into board games…” I trail off, chest panging. Ortho’s eyes get big.

“Oh! Like my brother! Well, he’s more into video games than board games, but he’s still in the board game club! Maybe he and my brother would get along! Does he live around here?”

My chest tightens further. “Um. No. He- doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Ortho sinks slightly in disappointment. “That’s okay.” He perks up again. “But if you know a lot of board games, you must have a favorite! I’d love to play a game you recommend.”

“Um, well…” I could just tell him something like chess, but I know so little about chess I’m bound to get my ass kicked. Maybe just tell him my actual favorite and hope there’s an analogue? “I like Betrayal at the House on the Hill?”

There’s a bit of a pause. Ortho closes his eyes and frowns. There’s a faint whirring noise that I realize, after a moment, are his fans kicking on. “Hm. I’ve never heard of that game before. And my search results aren’t returning anything for it.”

Professor Trein, having already put the game away, moves closer. “I’ve never heard of that game either. I’m surprised that neither Ortho nor I know of it.” He’s staring hard at me. Clearly whatever suspicions he’s had are crystallizing.

I fidget. “Uh. I might have remembered the name wrong. It’s a game where you’re exploring a mansion with the other players and there’s spooky stuff happening…”

Ortho closes his eyes again. “Hm. Refining search parameters…” He pauses for a moment, then his eyes open. “Is it Haunted Mansion?”

It most certainly is not, but I jump on the escape route. “Yes, that’s it! We must have just called it something different in my family. You know how that happens sometimes, like you all start calling things something and it just sticks and no one else calls it that?” Stop rambling, you sound frantic!

Professor Trein nods, smiling, though Ortho doesn’t seem to get it. He’s frowning. “No, my brother always insisted on calling all the games by their proper names. Sometimes abbreviations, but never something that different. It’s a bit strange to give something a nickname much longer than its actual name, isn’t it?” Ortho keeps looking at me as he speaks. Like he’s assessing me for something.

“Maybe,” I say. “I don’t remember why we did that.”

“Sometimes families pick up odd names,” Professor Trein says. “It’s not uncommon.” He looks at me again, something thoughtful in his gaze. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I say automatically, without even bothering to check if I am. I’ve gotten very used to doing that since I’ve gotten here. Though I guess it’s not as if I didn’t do it back home.

“Your heart rate has increased,” Ortho says. His eyes narrow. “Physiological signs are consistent with someone who is ly-”

“Gray!” The door practically bangs inward. Grim scrambles in, huffing and puffing. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Professor Trein grimaces. “Grim. What have I told you about barging into my office?”

Grim’s ears lower. “Uhhhh…”

I hurry to put my stuff back on the shelf so I can take advantage of this convenient escape route. “Sorry, Professor, I’ll talk to him about it! Grim, you needed me for something?”

He folds his paws over his chest. “Yeah! It’s practically dinnertime and I’m starving! Where are those premium cans of tuna you promised me?”

I don’t remember making any sort of promise like that, but given the amount of times I’ve absently promised him something to get him to stop doing something, he’s probably right. “They’re up on the top-” An image of Grim scaling the kitchen cabinets to get his beloved tuna pops into my mind. Followed immediately by an image of him bringing half the kitchen down using magic to get them. “Uh. I’ll get them for you, okay? I was getting ready to head out.”

Sassy trots over to me, weaving between my legs. “Goodbye Professor Trein, Ortho. I’ll see you around.”

“My doors are always open,” Professor Trein says. “And I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Ortho chirps, waving as I exit. His eyes remain completely trained on me, like I’m a mystery he’s determined to solve. I force a smile back, and then the office door clicks shut behind me.

Find the next chapter here.

[mariacallous]

A nondescript suite of rooms in an office building in central Oslo hosts activity of the kind one would normally associate with a military headquarters or the CIA. In the central situation room, a monitor displays activity across the world’s oceans, while analysts at neighboring desks update this information around the clock. But this is not an intelligence agency  — it’s DNK, a Norwegian insurer of maritime war risk.

Today, intelligence is no longer just the domain of government agencies — or, rather, it shouldn’t be. Companies are now far more likely to be harmed by geopolitically linked events than ever before outside of full-scale wars. Thus, they need to keep a constant eye on the world. And if they do, they’re likely to see things that would be equally useful for their governments to know. 

DNK (a partner of the Atlantic Council’s Maritime Threats initiative, which I lead) has long insured merchant vessels against serious risks, and in today’s geopolitical climate, such risks are growing — fast. That means the company needs to know precisely what’s taking place in every corner of the maritime world, at all times.

“Intelligence are knowledge-based forecasts derived from verified data tailored to support decision-making. That’s different from what you get in the news,” said Freddy Furulund, who directs the Intelligence and Operations Center.

“To be able to provide such forecasts, you need to not only describe precisely what has happened, but you also need to contextualize it and describe its consequences for future voyages for the shipowner. We get data pointing in different directions, verify it, contextualize it and, most importantly, assess where it points to.” 

Some of this data comes from open sources, some from satellites and other technical means, and some from human sources. All of it is collected legally, and it all helps shipowners decide where to send their ships. “Intelligence providers are often seen as the bringer of bad news,” Furulund observed. “We inform our clients about how dangerous situations are in the days to come, but we also tell them about opportunities,” which can include things like minor changes to a ship’s route or placing armed guards on board.

Staffed by ex-military and intelligence professionals, the Intelligence and Operations Center has been operating since 2016, but intensifying political tensions over the past couple years have made it positively indispensable for both DNK and its clients. “Historically, the war risks insurance market argued that war risks would strike the insureds at random — which meant that loss-prevention activities, such as analysis of threat actors’ intentions and capabilities, weren’t pursued,” explained Svein Ringbakken, DNK’s managing director. But that’s changed dramatically.’

It’s not just that the Houthis are systematically targeting ships linked to Western countries; they also have far better weaponry than pirates ever did — and similar militias could start attacking merchant vessels elsewhere too. Indeed, some countries around the world appear to have decided to disregard global maritime rules altogether. And that makes it imperative for shipowners and insurers — not to mention crews — to understand where misfortune may strike from.

Meanwhile, foreign government officials visiting Norway often schedule a stop at DNK to see the center at work, and Furulund’s team regularly shares information with Western governments. “When we see something that poses an imminent threat to someone, we share that with not only the shipowner but also with the government — if it’s the government of Norway or a friendly country — or with whoever needs to be alerted,” he said. “It’s the ethical thing to do.”

Essentially, if Western countries are to withstand the aggression waged by various rivals and their proxies, sharing insights from the front line is the only way forward. And for Western countries today, it’s businesses rather than soldiers that are on the daily front line. (Should a war break out that would clearly change — but businesses will still face massive geopolitical risks.)

Not every company can operate its own intelligence center, of course, but more and more companies are now discovering they ought to collect threat information more systematically. Businesses simply need to do their best to discern what geopolitically linked risks may face them, not just in the Red Sea but in the Taiwan Strait, the South China Sea, the Baltic Sea, along the Cape of Good Hope route and other waters too — not to mention on land.

The Houthis recently resumed their campaign against Western shipping in the Red Sea after a couple weeks’ silence. Meanwhile, China’s maritime harassment of civilian vessels in the South China Sea continues. Is Beijing likely to expand its punishment of Western companies as proxies for their home countries? Will nations increasingly close to Russia and China try to harm Western companies operating in their countries? Western companies and governments need to know the answers to these questions — or at least gather enough information to make qualified assessments.

As many Western companies operate in places Western governments don’t, they should then share their insights with their home governments and other friendly states. And governments should return the favor.

We may not be able to clearly predict the acts of hostile states and groups with complete certainty, but making qualified assessments is far superior to sailing into uncharted waters. And that’s why we need a whole-of-society approach to intelligence too.

[tax--payer]

Top 15 Things to Spruce Up Your Girl-Nest

By Amelia Earheart

and the Coconut Crabs

1, Sticks: What’s a Girl nest without its main component, the nest! While sticks are the standard, you can also use other thin, twig-like things to build up the structure of your nest, such as femur bones or plastic chair legs. Though sticks are the most accessible and are best for beginner Girls. 2, Glitter: If your prey doesn’t get covered in small shiny particles while you prepare them, what’s the point of having a Girl nest at all? You can go wild with variety with this one too, there are billions of shapes and colors of glitter waiting to be discovered by the next researcher. 3, Spider Silk: Any great Girl nest needs some webbing! From active spiderwebs, to cobwebs, to those little lego spiderwebs, the world is in your hands with this one, personally I like to use the orange cotton fake webs you can get at stores near halloween. 4, Work Desk Covered in Various Mechanical Parts: A Girl’s needs to work, doesn’t she?

5, Sleeping Rock: Every Girl’s gotta sleep, what place better than a good old fashioned sleeping rock. Whether you want to go gleeby deeby on a comfy slab of quartz, relax on the classic granite, or take a Girl-nap on some ever shifting limestone, the world is your oyster. 6, Bones: The perfect way to show off to any visiting Girl’s or creatures! Every bone tells a story, usually a story about how you destroyed some sort of bone having thing for food and/or funsies! 7, Heap of Papers of Unclear Contents: Humanity’s scientific progress is centuries behind an average research type Girl’s knowledge base. One day they may even crack the code to unlock the wicked blast ability. Make sure your heap is put together in a way that only you understand the order of things. 8, Moss Pile: The perfect pile for squorshing and attracting new friends! Comes in many varieties to match the choses aesthetic of your Girl nest. Sheet moss is great for beginners and can be combined with your sleeping rock for some extra creature bonus. 9, Big Mushroom: Usually mushrooms appear in Girl nests often due to their dark, cold, and damp nature, but if you want to really show off you gotta grow some huge fungi. You can help this process along by leaving a pile of discarded food/friends in the desired location. 10, Pipe Bomb: A standard type self defense item carried by every Girl across the globe. It may be a good idea to keep a stockpile in your nest for security and Girl type parties. 11, Strange Unknowable Devices that Click and Chatter Without End: These will naturally appear as you progress further in your Girl type research. Where do they come from exactly? What are they made of? Are they food? Can we play toys with them? These are the questions all Girl type researchers hope to answer. 12, Girl pellets: A delicious scrumption, a delectable snack, a stupendous nosh, a jovial chow, a enticing munchie, a divine morsel, a luscious nibble, a ambrosial munch, a nectarous feast, a exquisite ration, a yummy treat. 13, Blankets: Seen as a typical Girl type garment, blankets have many uses other than clothing. They are perfect for keeping your moss pile warm during cold winter nights, and for hiding your malicious wares beneath! 14, Mysterious Goop of Unknown Origin: A classic Girl type item. 15, Skeleton Key:  A marrow white key with a skull shaped head with ever-changing grooves. Girls most frequently use it to fidget around with and to play toys. Whose skeleton will it unlock? Perhaps yours, dear reader?

[hotelcorus]

The Corus Hotel

If you're searching for a hotel that blends affordability, comfort, and unbeatable location, look no further than The Corus Hotel — a well-regarded 3-star hotel in Connaught Place, New Delhi.

Located steps away from Rajiv Chowk Metro Station, The Corus Hotel is a favorite among business travelers, tourists, couples, and solo explorers looking for a safe, clean, and convenient place to stay in Central Delhi.

Prime Location in Connaught Place

One of the biggest advantages of The Corus Hotel is its location. Nestled in the vibrant lanes of Connaught Place (CP) — Delhi’s cultural, corporate, and shopping nucleus — guests have instant access to:

Rajiv Chowk Metro Station (1-minute walk)

India Gate (10-minute drive)

Janpath Market, Palika Bazaar, and CP shopping streets

Restaurants, cafés, bars, and local attractions

Whether you're here for business meetings, leisure, or a quick city break, our central address makes commuting seamless.

Comfortable, Modern Rooms at Affordable Rates

At The Corus Hotel, comfort meets value. Our budget-friendly rooms are thoughtfully designed for relaxation and productivity. Every room comes with:

Comfortable double or twin beds

Air conditioning

Free high-speed Wi-Fi

Flat-screen LED TV with cable

Tea and coffee maker

Electronic safe

24/7 room service

Whether you're traveling solo, as a couple, or for work, you'll find a room that fits your needs without breaking the bank.

Ideal for Business Travelers

Our location in the business hub of Delhi makes The Corus Hotel a smart choice for corporate guests. You're minutes from government buildings, business districts, and embassies. After a long day, unwind in our cozy café or enjoy a quiet evening on the terrace.

Couple-Friendly & Safe

As one of the few couple-friendly hotels in Connaught Place, we ensure a welcoming and respectful environment for all guests. Privacy, safety, and comfort are always a priority.

Dining & Amenities

While The Corus Hotel prides itself on simplicity, we don’t compromise on service. Guests can enjoy:

In-house café/bar with terrace seating

Freshly prepared breakfast options

24-hour front desk assistance

Travel support, cabs, and airport transfers on request

Nearby Attractions

When you stay at The Corus, you’re never far from Delhi’s top sights. Explore:

India Gate

Red Fort

Jantar Mantar

Gurudwara Bangla Sahib

Janpath & Connaught Place markets

National Museum

Most attractions are a short metro ride or cab trip away.

Why Guests Trust The Corus Hotel

Long-standing reputation for service and cleanliness

Friendly, helpful staff with local knowledge

Transparent pricing, no hidden charges

A safe, central option trusted by thousands of travelers

Book Your Stay Today

Whether you're looking for a budget hotel in Connaught Place, a couple-friendly stay near Rajiv Chowk, or a convenient base for exploring Delhi — The Corus Hotel delivers.

Book directly with us for the best rates and a smoother check-in experience.

[skwpr]

7 Terrible Study Habits To Quit Immediately

Not Making To-Do Lists

If you’re going into a study session without a plan or to-do list regarding what you’re going to study, you’re not properly maximizing your time. 

I usually start working on homework assignments as soon as school is over; but before I actually start, I review the day’s classes and make a list of the assignments I have to do.

It’s also helpful to prioritize so you can efficiently finish your homework. I usually do this on my laptop with digital sticky notes (like the image below), but you can also use a physical planner and to-do lists.

Making lists and setting goals doesn’t just apply to homework, though. Whenever you’re having a study session or attending a lecture, come prepared! Always preview the work beforehand and make a to-do list of important things you’ll learn or will go over.

Writing to-do lists will help you organize your tasks while studying, and is a great study habit to build to effectively tackle your busy study life. 

Not Prioritizing

Prioritizing comes hand in hand with making to-do lists, and it’s key to studying productively without feeling burnt out. 

Once you’ve got your to-do list written out, analyze each task and determined which are the most important and urgent. These could be based on a variety of factors, like:

Due date

Time it will take to complete

Percentage of your grade

Difficulty

Whether you’ll be collaborating with someone

Once you’ve ranked each task on your to-do list (don’t worry, it will become easier as you do this more often), you can get to work with a sense of purpose and structure.

Having structure has always been one of my top study habits and has helped me stay productive, and I hope you’ll try it as well!

Having Your Phone Near

Your phone is likely your biggest distraction while studying. It just holds so many interesting things, especially social media and entertainment. These will distract you and cause you to procrastinate or multitask while studying, both terrible study habits.

It’s not easy to break your phone addiction completely, but physically keeping your phone away can definitely help. When your phone is in another room, you won’t be exposed to constant notifications and will then stay focused and productive while studying.

However, if you find extreme difficulty in separating from your phone, you can begin by turning off social media notifications. Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, etc. can be hard to quit once you open them, so avoid doing so in the first place by turning off notifications.

Looking & Not Seeing

I used to take notes by reading the textbook and copying down whatever I thought was important. I highlighted terms, underlined names, drew some pictures… but the entire time, I didn’t really understand what was going on.

Whenever you’re taking notes, annotating a document, reading an essay, or learning something new in general, actively see and understand, not just look and accept.

This means that you should think about what you’re learning, pose questions to yourself and/or the teacher, make connections with your previous knowledge, and overall put thought into what you’re learning.

Just looking and not seeing is a study habit you should quit immediately, as it is a complete waste of time and effort on your part. Only when you actively use your brain to understand and form connections will the information stick.

Studying In Bed

Your bed is where your body associates with rest and play, and your mind will not be focused enough for you to study productively and effectively. Therefore, what you should do is to study in a designated study space like your desk.

However, it’s important to note that you should only study at your desk as well, and not watch movies, go on your phone, etc. Only when you clearly separate spaces for work/rest will your body and mind make the same associations.

So get up and off your bed and move to a desk or table the next time you’re studying, then jump back when you want to rest; be sure to make this a habit!

Procrastinating

Procrastination is one of the most common bad study habits students have. When you get intimidated by your work or distracted by something fun, you often end up procrastinating for more than you intended.

But it’s not impossible to beat procrastination! One of the best tips I have is to plan ahead and break things down. Similar to making to-do lists, doing these 2 things will give you structure and actionable steps, which will make everything seem easier.

Relying On The Textbook

The last bad study habit that many students don’t realize is their complete dependence on the textbook. No textbook is perfectly exhaustive and comprehensible, so it’s important to utilize outside resources as well.

Though reading the textbook can be of great help, you sometimes need more information (or simply more opinions) to fully comprehend something. Therefore, a good habit to build would be to search around more.

Here are some resources you can use other than the textbook to learn about a certain topic:

Your teacher or classmates

Wikipedia (great for people and historical events)

Britannica (great for people, concepts/ideas, and events)

YouTube (best for math and science concepts)

Quora (best for abstract/opinion-based ideas)

Once you break these 7 bad study habits, you’ll be ready to become a better student and tackle your studies with no trouble.

[dragmirc]

It had taken time to find a remaining piece of the Ocarina.

Thankfully, Zelda's old bedroom had remained untouched as of yet. Something Ganondorf was immensely grateful for, as he had actually worried for a moment it had been cleared away. He did momentarily ponder why it had been left alone, but on concluding it might be some strange mourning ritual for fallen enemies, he let it lie. The intricacies and nuance of Sidhe culture in the events of a takeover were by and large not his concern. The pieces of the Ocarina were.

The shattered remains of the sacred instrument were exactly where he remembered them being, near where he could only imagine the young Princess had lost her life. It had been swift and painless, a tiny rusted splatter against the side of a bookshelf and the desk alongside it the only real proof anything had happened. He ignored it, swallowing a little of the residual anger back down to bend to a knee for the task at hand.

Proof of its purpose, the tome had read, a crumbling ancient thing that caked his fingertips in ages worth of dust. But it had been useful; a ritual to write in order to locate objects. Not just any objects, however. If he was translating the words properly and he was fairly certain he was, then it would find another Ocarina. A dimensional copy, in a parallel existence.

The instrument's mouthpiece peered out from under the edge of a book, tempting not only in its existence but for the stamp of the royal seal still intact at its base. Perfect! Proof of its purpose, indeed, the glint of magic sparking in his hands as soon as he pinched it between his fingertips.

He couldn't help the little smirk crooking over one half of his face as he absconded from the room in a flurry of fiery red and colored lines, aiming for the back of the castle library. Her Imperial Grace was out of the building for a moment in the accompaniment of the Imperial spymaster, so now was as prime a time to attempt this scheme as ever. The only one present would be the archivist and Ganondorf was more than sure the mousy little librarian would not care if he disappeared or blew himself up in the process. The latter of which was a very real possibility, but the Gerudan king had already weighed the pros against the cons and determined the former of success to outweigh the cons of failure. After all, he couldn't fail any more than he already had, in his mind. It was certainly worth the risk.

The back annals of the library, where he had been spending his time digging through the oldest collections, was left widely untouched. Something he was grateful for, as he'd left the tome in question sitting open to the point he needed on an equally-dust eaten lectern. It also told him not even the intrusive Sidhe fluttering around the main library had managed to overtake the back archives in their quest for perfect organization. He suspected it would be a matter of time, but for now, it was a blessing they centralized in the main aisles.

A cursory glance was given as he approached the tome again to locate any others in his vicinity and make note of their locations. A few of the foreigners were shuffling around in the main body of the room and to his knowledge, the librarian himself was nowhere to be found. Good. There was no one around who could stop him in his endeavors. The pages he'd left the volume open to were skimmed through.

Feed the catalyst with energy. A spark jolted through the fingers that still held the coveted shard of the Ocarina, a ring of magenta coloring his eyes around the iris. Done.

Rewrite the catalyst's purpose by telling it what it should become. A hoarse whisper hissed through his teeth at it, telling it to find itself whole. Directly into the royal seal pressed into it to be particularly specific. It never hurt to assume that such processes were made to be as specific as possible, to avoid things from going horribly wrong.

Repeat the stanzas with the tone of the memory of the thing you have lost. How specific, but a reiteration to a previous point of his thoughts, specifics placed failsafes along the way. It was better to assume things were painfully pointed than vague.

Old words passed his lips, uttered from the back of the throat as most old dialects used in magic were. Guttural, otherworldly. The ring in his eyes grew more intense, vibrating against the gold, and with it came the crackle of a familiar energy through the palm of one hand. Feeding it steadily into the shard of ceramic there as though unraveling a line of rope into a gaping hole. Slow, steady, while the very space around him began to grow oppressively heavy at such expressions of magical energy. Overwhelming the tool of his current machinations would only result in locking him out of yet another means of pushing into the Sacred Realm, he had to force himself to be patient.

Although the tic of redirecting his emotions at remembering how he had been locked out of his ultimate goal caused his hand to clench into a tight fist around the ceramic shard in his palm and almost immediately, he realized his mistake. With an intense jolt of energy, the sudden stimulation caused a feedback loop that crackled into existence and burnt into his hand, forcing him to drop the piece with a yelp that was more surprise than any actual pain. The mouthpiece tinked onto the floor and bounced a little away from him, the sheen over the crest seeming to laugh at him for yet another failure.

"You still mock me from beyond, do you", he snarled at the little trinket. Though his ire was not directed at it, he felt the prior owner of the thing would still hear his anger through it.

As he stared at it in its defiance of his influence, Ganondorf did not even stop the snarling sneer that twisted his face. The telltale ring of magic in his eyes had all but faded and on inspecting his palm, he noticed a small mark from where the energy had snapped back with its own teeth at him. How dare it!

There was shuffling in the bookcases. A brief glance in that direction assured him that he had gone nowhere, much to his grimacing chagrin. The curious eyes and prehensile ears of the usual Sidhe staff peered at him from between shelves and around corners. Logically, they were probably only checking in after such an explosive end, but in his mind, they were noting his continued shortcomings behind faces of flat affect and unfeeling gazes. He waited a moment longer, considering scratching this method off his list as yet another dead end, returning his attention to the piece of the Ocarina in front of him when his audience decided he was no concern of theirs and returned to their duties.

"What wasted time," he spat under his breath, bending down to retrieve what he considered now as only memorial debris.

As soon as a fingertip touched the ceramic shard, he felt it. A crackle of energy that jolted up his arm and palpitated his heart erratically in the process, the indented crest glowing as his breath caught in his throat and his teeth bared at the surprise of its activation.

Almost as suddenly as it had started, the energy was soon to wane away to barely a snap in his veins, and he pulled his hand away to stare it as though in disbelief. It took him a second more to realize something else. The library around him was silent. He lowered his breath so that it would not impede his hearing, but he was not mistaken. The shuffling ambience that was always in the bookcases now was simply gone. As a matter of fact, he noted that the decor was somehow back to the drab neutrality he remembered.

Either he had accidentally travelled through time to before the occupation, or this was a parallel plane entirely. So close to his own he could practically taste it. Either one was possible, he simply had to discover which fork in the metaphoric road it took.

After assessing that he was still far and wide alone in the room, he returned to tentatively poke the shard with a finger. It did not respond as before, so he could only assume that meant the magic that powered it was spent. He would need to repeat the process if he wanted to use it again. Snatching it up, he made brief notice that the book and its lectern were gone completely as he left the archives.

If the spell had worked as intended, the mouthpiece should have lead him to a place another Ocarina existed. Of course, it would have to be vague, he wasn't going to simply manifest next to his goal. No universal laws worked so cut-and-dry like that, but he was recognizing the touch of the royal family in the castle hallways as he exited the library. A smooth twist of the head one way, then the other was made to assure he would not run into anyone on his way into the shadowed alcoves of the halls.

If the Ocarina was here, he could only assume Zelda had it. Either on her person or hidden somewhere in her room. He would have to check there first before attempting to find the Princess herself, something he was particularly not keen on doing. The less he had to interact with anyone here, the better. A clean job, in and out.

For someone of his size, Ganondorf was very quiet in his traversal of the wider hallways. Keeping out of sight, ducking into deeper shadows as guards and knights wearing the familiar Hylian crest patrolled nearby and keeping only one eye on them as they passed to shrink his substantial profile. The castle layout was the same. It was always the same. No deviances, no changes. Straight lines, easy to use, drawing from memory of the times he would casually wander to commit to memory the full floorplan of the central fortress building.

So far, there were no hinderances and he may have felt a little more than cocky with the last leg of the trek. Up the stairs. Toward the royal apartments. So close to Her Little Majesty's room he could practically taste victory on his tongue. All assuming, of course, that he found the sacred instrument there with no one around it to stop him taking it. After so long of stewing in the loss of it in his own realm of time, he felt the flutter of giddiness in his chest and allowed himself a small -if devious- smile.

Nearly. Nearly there!

@themultiversebundle

[fictional-library-tournament]

Prelims round 1, poll 18

Propaganda

The Archives, The Kingkiller Chronicle by Patrick Rothfuss

I swear I've wanted to get here as much as Kvothe

There's a huge door in there and we have no idea what's behind them. Also one dude just lives in there

Death's library, The Discworld series by Terry Pratchett

Death’s library contains the life stories of every person, living or dead. They write themselves.

The Royal Academy Library, Ascendance of a Bookworm series by Miya Kazuki and You Shiina

It has cute magical rabbit library assistants that help the librarians/patrons with finding books, working circ desk, reshelving, securing the library, etc. On the surface, it's a school library focusing on materials for Royal Academy students and archives of research/curriculum material from its professors. Some other neat magical aspects of this library include automatic humidity management (to prevent moisture damage to documents), time-stopping shelves (to prevent old documents from rotting away), sunlight protection magic (keep natural lighting from large windows while protecting documents from light damage), magical lighting (will start showering down multi-colored lights to let students realise the time if they're too engrossed in reading), sound-dampening carpets, and instant floor cleaning. The protagonist is also helping invent new magic tools for the library including a function where books automatically teleport to their spot on the shelves. Explaining fully how amazing and critically important this library is to their world would be spoilers. There's a lot going on in certain hidden/forgotten about parts of this library. Let's just say when the symbol of a true king is possessing a certain divine magical book that acts as the keys to the country, knowledge is power. The author and protagonist are both extreme bookworms, so a lot of love went into the design and description of this magical library.

They have magic bunny robots that get books for you. Also it’s a low fantasy story about a librarian who dies and decides to reinvent the printing press in the medical world she lives in. There’s also political intrigue I guess.

It’s a series all about books and libraries, and told from the pov of a librarian who died and decided to reinvent free public libraries and printing presses and books in a fantasy world

Highbrary aka Library of Congress, Alcatraz vs the Evil Librarians by Brandon Sanderson

It’s just the library of congress like from real life except secretly it’s the central stronghold of the network of evil librarians that rules the world as we measly humans know it to be. It’s funny. The book is good. That is all thank you and goodnight

The library of congress is the home base for the librarians in the book series. It not only is the normal library of congress building, but there is also a tunnel system underneath that houses the more magical items that normal people are not allowed to use.

[azzie-beastbinder]

Overdue Meeting

Lord Ichiro Hayashi had sent out a summons. It was never a good day for Katsumasa when anyone responsible for the funding of his branch did such a thing.

Katsumasa arrived outside of the Hayashi manor via vehicle and was promptly pulled inside by the enforcers the moment he reached the door. It was standard procedure today, meaning that Katsumasa was fully stripping so the enforcers could claim any hidden weapons. (Not that Katsumasa carried any; hidden weapons never stayed hidden for long regardless.) Once redressed, he tried not to wince as the enforcers locked his wrists in magic-suppressing handcuffs behind his back. He was already irritated at the fact that he’d have to wear longer sleeves while the bruises healed again.

Then, and only then, was he allowed further into the manor.

The Hayashi manor had seen worse days. Even with the escape of the prisoners from their Omenpath-“guarding” garrison and the news outlets howling Ichiro Hayashi and Yuna Suzuki’s every crime, the two still maintained Imperial luxury and wealth supplemented by Futurist technology as they funded and pleased. And despite being well into their eighties, it was as though they had stopped physically aging by their fifties, something that Katsumasa had to admit was impressive for humans. Whatever fool they were paying for their skincare and exercise routines clearly knew what they were doing. Ichiro was objectively handsome in the regal, traditional way that the Imperial Court enjoyed its enforcers also looking. While it was now common knowledge that Clan Hayashi was a noble clan thanks to nepotism, Ichiro still looked so classically noble that it was hard to reconcile those two things in one man.

This was, of course, an elaborate way for Katsumasa to justify why he found Ichiro Hayashi attractive. Convincing himself that it was just because Ichiro objectively fit the stereotype of a handsome Imperial samurai-turned-noble was easy.

Ichiro was standing by his desk in his office deep in the manor. Katsumasa bowed upon his arrival; the enforcers made sure of it. Once he was permitted to straighten up, Katsumasa bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something he’d likely regret. Don’t cause a diplomatic incident. Remember that he’s funding you.

“Katsumasa,” Ichiro greeted, his voice smooth and relaxed. It made Katsumasa’s skin prickle. “How is your niece?”

Eishi. His pride, his blood, the only loyal pilot who had not been killed or turned traitor. And, currently, his direct line into the Dokuchi Reckoners. Thanks to its implants, he could look into their base of operations – an orphanage of all things. He had seen many things because of it: Many rooms in the ever-shifting layout of the three-story building. The Dokuchi Reckoners’ boss and second-in-command. Their visitors, various peoples from various planes. Their two newest members, two New Capennan planeswalkers. An enforcer who once worked under Ichiro Hayashi who turned out to be a Dokuchi infiltrator and helped with the prison escape. Various scenes of surprising domesticity that one would never expect from a criminal gang, especially not the fourth most powerful gang in Towashi. (Although, to be quite frank, Katsumasa would assume that the Dokuchi Reckoners were the most powerful Reckoner gang overall. Their reach successfully extended far beyond Towashi and into other planes, something that couldn’t be said of the Hyozan, Okiba, and Mukotai Reckoners.)

Katsumasa forced a smile to his lips and inclined his head respectfully. “Eishi is doing well, Lord Hayashi.”

“Any news from the bastard grandson?”

This was something Katsumasa could share easily. “He seems to spend many days in his home forge or doing research into mind magic for a member of his gang. He isn’t focused on you at the moment.”

Ichiro’s smile was nearly brilliant. “Good. One less problem, so we can focus on the Omenpath issue instead.” Only a fool dismissed the threat of a Reckoner gang, but Katsumasa had never seen evidence that Ichiro wasn’t a fool. “How is the new mech design coming along?”

This was the part that Katsumasa had been dreading. With how often the Mukotai soulripper mechs broke down, Ichiro had told him to either fix them or make something better. Katsumasa chose the safest answer. “They are still in the early prototype phase. We are rebuilding every mechanic from the ground up to work around and overcome the issues of the current mechs.”

“And how soon can I expect to see them cleaning Towashi’s streets?”

“If the funding keeps flowing and the tests remain as successful as they are now, next month at the latest.”

“Excellent. You are doing wonderful work, Katsumasa. Keep it up.” Ichiro gestured to the guards beside Katsumasa. “He is dismissed. Let him leave unhindered.” The two enforcers bowed as Katsumasa did. They marched him back to the entry hall and released him from the cuffs.

Katsumasa rubbed his sore wrists as he stepped into the cool night air of Eigan Town. He scowled as he made his way to his waiting vehicle. “Back to Otawara,” he told the driver as he slid into the back seat. He’d rather fly to get back, but meeting with Ichiro Hayashi required a little bit of misdirection, both on the way there and on the way back.

He settled down in the back seat and silently sighed. He had a long month ahead of him.

Or so he thought.