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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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The Field: In a Week (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: T - language, discussions of sex, infidelity, mortality Word count: 2.9k

Part 2: Lavender Forever Part 4: Back to Autumn Masterpost

Summary: A decade into your marriage, you and Benedict face life's trials.

Author's Note: The third in a four-part series based on songs about fields/nature that I associate with Benedict. This part is based on the song In a Week by Hozier. 💙

A decade later

Your feet moved on their own. You were so blinded with anger, so lost in the whirl of your bitter thoughts that you let them carry you wherever they wanted. All you knew was you had to get out of the house before you snapped. You had already made a scene, walking straight out of Aubrey Hall and stomping across the cold, misted grounds while multiple members of the Bridgerton family watched. But it was better than shouting at your husband in front of them all, airing your dirty laundry in mixed company in some self destructive attempt to hurt him as much as he had hurt you. No, this was better. Just remove yourself from the situation. Cool down, reset, and find some way to awkwardly slip back and make a quick exit.

You grumbled low to yourself, spitting into the autumn air everything you wanted to say to him. All of your most wounding insults, your most witty comebacks, your most damning accusations. Things that you never had the celerity or courage to actually say in the moment, but that always won every imaginary argument. It was both exhausting and cathartic to replay the quarrels in your mind over and over, a twisted cycle you had become all too familiar with.

A sudden rustling noise snapped you back into the present moment. Looking to the treeline you saw an orange tuft dart into the shadows and then a gleaming pair of eyes turn and peer back at you. It was a fox, watching you closely as you stomped the final few yards into the expanse of the field. It was the only place you had thought to go; somewhere distant and quiet, familiar and comforting, though bittersweet now with all the memories it contained. The happiness you remembered feeling there contrasted sharply with everything you felt now. As you moved through the tall grass you traced what had led you to this point.

After a decade’s tenure working with Anthony you had felt the pull to hang your own shingle, to establish yourself outside of the family you had married into. Everyone supported your move but the transition was proving harder than you had expected. Though you knew your blame was misplaced, you had started to grow resentful of the Bridgerton name and the automatic prestige it carried. Prestige your new brand could only dream of.

You were working long hours, Benedict never seemed to not be working, and the honeymoon period was long over. He had reached a zenith of success and now it seemed every gallery from Salt Lake to Phuket wanted his pieces. But his traveling to meet with them all left no piece of him behind for you. The tender moments when you had joined together each day: swatting playfully at each other as you wrangled for the kettle, dinner burning on the hob as Benedict ignored it in favor of sprawling you across a countertop, and staying up far too late entwined in bed as you stared at the ceiling and talked of all your grand plans; none of that happened anymore. Everything felt like a transaction, even drudgery, as you both strove to fulfill life’s basic tasks while exhausted by everything you were trying to accomplish.

Arguments had arisen to replace your daydreaming. Arguments over petty things and big things too. Neither of you could make up your mind on the biggest question - whether or not you wanted children. You were admittedly both curious to see what you might look like blended together in a new person and wanted to send them out as an agent of good in an increasingly uncertain world. But it was that same uncertainty that made you fear to bring them into it. And you both knew that your lifestyles didn’t currently lend themselves to parenthood. While you suspected Benedict believed a child would bring you closer together, you feared that the added stress of a helpless dependent may tip you over the edge.

The bliss that had once dominated your relationship now seemed to be only a memory. The generator in your chest that he had installed had run out of fuel. You were starting to contemplate things you could never have imagined only a few years prior. The D word. Something you had previously found so dirty, akin to a slur and having no place in the same sentence as Benedict’s name. Now it was beginning to have an odd kind of appeal. But it still forced tears from your eyes every time you thought about it, as it did now. With a shaking exhale you sat down, your hot tears contrasting with the cold dew in the grass. Failure and frustration welled within and you sank your head onto your knees, trapped in a loop of anguished thoughts.

When you heard more rustling you looked up, wondering if the fox had grown curious enough to approach. But it was Benedict, walking toward you slowly with his hands in his coat pockets, frowning.

You hastily brushed the tears from your cheeks.

“Benedict, please. I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Well, I didn’t want my wife to storm out of a family gathering in front of everyone and fuck off into the wilderness but here we are.” His voice was cutting, his eyes steely. “Is this your solution? To just not talk about it and eventually wander back in and act like nothing happened? Do I get to simmer in your resentment for the rest of the night?”

“Ben, stop,” you whispered, tears rising again.

“We need to fix this!” He barked, the sternness in his jaw so uncharacteristic. Then he softened. “I want to fix this."

The broken pleading cut through you and you saw a fleeting glimpse of the Benedict you had fallen in love with, still hiding there under everything that had happened. You knew he was talking about more than just your tiff in the family room. He was talking about everything.

“I want to fix this too.”

You allowed him to sit next to you in the grass but when he reached for your hand you jerked it away.

“I’m sorry,” he offered.

You wouldn’t forgive that easily. If he wanted to fix things, he had to understand how he hurt you. “You made a joke at my expense.”

“I thought you’d laugh with me!” he reasoned. “You used to.”

“Used to was a long time ago. Now the jokes about your wife’s adorable, failing hobby business are wearing thin. I know you can’t relate. You or anyone in your family, with your fabulous lives.” You knew you sounded petulant but were giving free reign to your honest thoughts. Ever since stepping outside of the family business, you had felt somewhat outside of the family too. You only had yourself to blame and knew it was objectively untrue but couldn’t defeat your niggling imposter syndrome.

“Hey,” Benedict’s eyes were full of concern. “You are part of this family. What’s mine is yours.”

“Alright.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, leaving spite in the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t know it would upset you so much.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you spat. “You wouldn’t know much about me anymore because you’re never around. Gallivanting all over the world, one gallery to the next while your quaint little wife sits at home.”

Now it was his turn to be exasperated. “You told me you needed to stay and focus on your work.”

“Just the first time and you’ve never asked me to join you again!” You stared him down, waiting for him to acknowledge fault, wanting him to explain himself. His silence stretched your anger to the breaking point. If you were going to have it out, you would have it all out.

You cooled your voice and turned away from him. “I suppose that’s good for your image. I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”

From the corner of your eye you saw his head snap up. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m not stupid, Ben. And other women aren’t blind.” You took a shaking breath, fearing where the conversation would lead but knowing you had to pursue it. The suspicion and insecurity had been simmering within you for too long.

After a long pause he finally spoke, his voice hollow. “You think I’m running around on you?”

The words fractured your heart and you had to stifle a whimper against the pain. “You tell me,” you whispered. “So much time spent apart.”

You held your breath, waiting for all of your worst fears to be confirmed. A devastating truth that would simultaneously destroy you and set you free. But you were only met with more silence. You turned back to see Benedict staring at the ground, jaw locked and eyes searching.

“Nothing to say?” you prodded. “Should I take that as an admission?”

He looked up, pale eyes stormy while his voice was surprisingly calm. “No. I’m trying to think what I could have possibly done to undermine your faith in me like this. Maybe I didn’t fuck up in one big way. Maybe I fucked up in a thousand tiny ways. Over time, is that enough to make you think I’d go back on my vow?” The pain in his voice and confusion in his eyes immediately tore down your defenses. With only a few quiet sentences he deftly convinced you of his innocence and made you regret accusing him at all.

You swallowed thickly. “Your vow?”

“Our wedding vows. Remember?” He raised his eyebrows sarcastically. “Big party. You wore white. In this very field in fact.” He gestured to the landscape before you. The sky was clouded and the green was fading into straw tones. But your memories could etch in every detail of that sunlit day. A day of bliss when you joined your lives together, just feet from where you sat now.

Benedict continued, his words fervent. “We made vows. Vows that I remember and that I’m not going to break. No matter how many mistakes I make, my commitment to those stays the same. Do you believe me?”

His burning gaze made you tremble, nearly speechless in the face of his loyalty. Your enmity melted away with a half-hearted quip. “They weren’t really vows, per se.”

“No, they were better.” This time Benedict took your hand and you didn’t pull away. He held it tightly. “My heart unto yours is knit, so that but one heart can we make of it.” Smiles flitted across both your faces, remembering all of the Shakespeare he had insisted on using for your ceremony. ‘Eternal words for an eternal love,’ he had said.

He brought your hand to his lips and pressed the softest kiss to your knuckles before pulling it to his chest. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to share my heart with anyone else if it's actually yours in the first place.”

You broke, letting your tears release the pressure of all the guilt, relief, love and hope building within. His arms instinctively wrapped around you as you leaned against him, now surrounded by warmth and his familiar smell. This was your husband, the love of your life. This was Benedict. He wasn’t perfect, but then neither were you. You had challenges to face and wounds to heal, but knew with certainty that the person you wanted to turn to through it all was him. Even if he was the cause of pain himself. You chuckled against his neck, laughing and crying simultaneously at the beautiful contradiction.

Benedict pulled back to meet your eyes. “Do you believe me?”

You nodded and he let out an audible sigh of relief, grinning as he rested his forehead against yours and held your face in his hands. “And then end life when I end loyalty.”

You surged forward and kissed him, the salt of your tears tingeing your lips. The two of you clung together, tension easing as your bodies and souls bolstered each other again. You lowered slowly to lie in the grass, side by side with your hands clasped.

“I miss you on these trips too, you know,” he revealed. “It’s fucking agonizing. I don’t want to travel as much as I do, but…”

“You need to,” you assured him, realizing your selfishness and insecurity couldn’t stand in the way of his dreams. “I want to see the works of Benedict Bridgerton displayed across the world. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you’ve earned. Starving artist no more.”

He quirked a brow. “Was I ever?”

“No,” you smiled. “And maybe I’ll join you sometimes.”

He squeezed your hand. “Yes, please. It would be good for both of us. You never know who may be in need of a Creative Director.”

The mess of your job situation came hurtling back. The last thing you wanted was a handout. “Ben…”

“I’m not going to go slinging your name around and angling for favors. We can just keep our ears open,” he explained. “Let the nepotism work after you’ve applied.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his dry remark. It was inescapable, the fact that you were tied to a surname that opened doors. But you knew Benedict would support you in rising based on your own merit. You had never actually asked for his help and chastised yourself for it.

He turned to stare up at the grey sky, mumbling to himself. “And I can give my damn fist a rest.”

You balked. “I’m sorry?”

The way he wiggled his eyebrows confirmed everything.

You smirked. “Are you saying you’re sullying all these five star hotel rooms with your self abuse?”

“Whenever I think of you.” His menacing little grin never failed to ignite a spark in your stomach. Despite how your body always ached for his, your suspicion of his infidelity had bled into suspicions about your sex life. Every time he returned home he pounced on you, but you had assumed it was driven by guilt or pure animalistic need, not by passion. You had felt like you owed it to him as a welcome home gift. You hadn’t realized how much he still longed for you. To imagine him alone in every far flung city, pleasuring himself while gasping your name, it was both tantalizing and a bit heartbreaking.

“Why don’t you call me?” you asked.

He looked dumbfounded. “You would want that?”

“Yes.” You rolled over and gave him a deep kiss, murmuring against his lips. “Timezones be damned, I want to know you're coming for me on the other side of the world.”

“Fucking hell,” he exhaled, eyes glittering. You smiled and snuggled into his side, the two of you lying in silence, studying the clouds, quietly envisioning the new chapter you were embarking upon. You felt a sense of peace returning that had eluded you for years.

You could have laid there for years or for hours, you weren’t sure. You were just content to feel Benedict’s hand in yours, to hear the quiet rustle of the wind in the grass, and to know that happier days lay ahead. But eventually the light started to dim, the temperature dropped to the point that your breath became visible, and you knew you had to return to the world outside of your hideaway.

“I don’t want to go back,” you confessed. “I made an ass of myself.”

Benedict smirked. “It would look worse that I marched off after you and neither of us ever returned.”

You were no longer concerned about anyone’s perception of you. Not while you were together. “They should know by now where to find us,” you shrugged. “What’s the plan? Lie here forever?”

You inhaled the crisp air, realizing the appeal. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Benedict nestled deeper into the grass with a smile. “Lay here until we just dissolve into the grass. Become the flowers. That would really throw a wrench into the dandelion wine production.”

You both burst into laughter. It felt so good to laugh again.

“They’d find us in a week,” you mused. “Or whatever is left of us after the foxes have had a taste.”

He grimaced. “Gruesome.”

“It wouldn’t be our problem. We’d be gone. Somewhere. Together.”

Dark as it was, there was an undeniably appealing beauty in the idea. That the two of you could let the world fall away and rest forever in your favorite place, slumbering together through frosts and thaws and watercolor sunrises. You lay in complete stillness imitating the corpses you imagined yourselves to be, your hands clasped so tightly that you could feel both your pulses between them. They were slowing, your hearts settling back into a calm echo of one another after dissipating their anger.

Benedict spoke softly. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I am too.”

You knew with certainty that you had rounded a corner, entered a new era of honesty with one another. One upon which you could build the next decades of your shared life. Benedict, ever the mind reader, confirmed as much.

“A new start from here on out, yeah? We let our bitter selves die here.”

You turned to face him, cherishing his crooked grin, his bright eyes, every smile line that carved his features and fleck of grey that hid at his temples. You saw the boy who had kissed you in a swirl of dandelion tufts, the menace who ravished you with sinful delights, the husband who anchored you through every storm, and the man who you would follow to the ends of the earth. All rolled into one beautiful soul that you were blessed to have joined with your own.

You squeezed his hand. “Alright. We’ll lay here and die a little. Then I want to be home with you.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #female reader #modern au #romance #angst

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liyawritesss · 2 years

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ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ; ᴘᴀʀᴛ lll

ʜᴏᴡ ᴀᴍ ɪ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ - ɪ ʀᴇꜰᴜꜱᴇ

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Masc!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 8.1k

Synopsis: The queen is dead, and Wakanda is in ruins. Shuri finds light in her desire for vengeance, while you are left to wallow in your own despair. Is there anything more undoing than a daughter in grief?

Warnings: This part is going to be EXTREMELY heavy emotionally and mentally, so please take great caution when reading. This part will include but not limited to: main character death (Rest in Power Queen Ramonda), the royal family funeral procession, reader attempts suicide, attempted drowning.

A/N: Again, this is a very heavy part for this series. Please take caution when reading, and if you need a break while reading please do. The end is pretty tame though. Thank yous to @babyboiboyega for their assistabce in transitions and writing some of the scenes cuz ya gurl was lowkey struggling. Songs to listen to while listening: "favorite crime", "traitor", "good 4 u" and "driver's license" by Olivia Rodrigo, ‘gone’ by Rose, ‘Special’ by SZA, "Dark Roads" by Zia Jenaye, "Chasing Fire" by Lauv

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @xxmilli @typicalme111 @zestgodtj @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @yvxmpire @justariellove @n7cje

Shuri’s first heartbreak was something she would have never been prepared for.

In fact, no one was prepared for the princess’s outburst of emotions. The first week of your absence, she had carried on her days as if nothing had even happened. She presented a facade of normalcy to everyone - the design group scientists, her friends, her family, even her very own brother whom she held a bond with like no other. That first week was debatably the scariest time in this period of heartache, because one normally knew when the princess was upset. Curses spewing in whispers as she busied herself with work, short grunts and sassy remarks - these were the normal signs of Princess Shuri’s crossness.

But nothing could compare to this, and while the first week of your departure may have been the scariest, it was only due to the looming silence Shuri carried with her. This was not the worst.

One night, while the majority of the palace inhabitants were fast asleep - save the Dora Milaje on nightwatch duty - a presence entered the lab. The motion-sensored lights flickered on, illuminating the distinguishable white countertops and the instruments of technology that littered them neatly.

“Griot, activate the noise barrier.”

The AI beeped to life, replying with a ‘yes, princess’ before activating the sound proof barrier, a quick shimmer of blue shooting up the walls of the laboratory signifying that the barrier had indeed been activated.

“Princess, you seem to be experiencing extremely high levels of cortisol and adrenaline. May I ask if something is wro-”

“Shut up.”

Griot’s initial worry - although calculated - was shut down as Shuri entered into her own personal sector of the laboratory, deliberately set away from the main room to provide her with her own air and space to work. Prototypes, blueprints, bits and bobs all littered the work station. Many of the prototypes had been there for days, untouched.

Shuri’s frustrations had been muddling and boiling inside of her due to her inability to focus on her projects. Nothing was coming out right. Prototype after prototype was failing, her equations were becoming screwed up, and her calculations were never correct. She could see the doubt beginning to fill her subordinates eyes, the holes they stared into her back when they would have questions and she would shoo them off with little to no answer. She heard the whispers among the laboratory staff, feigning concern and worry for her wellbeing.

Perhaps it was worry for the princess that these staff members held, but to Shuri, all she saw and heard was pity. And she hated pity. Pity meant being looked down on, it meant being judged and being looked at with doubt and queries of her brilliance, her abilities. And how dare people look at her with pity over something so trivial as heartache?

Shuri’s hand tightened around the metal staff of which she brought with her into this space, as her frustrations and resentment began to boil to the brim. Her eyes continued to scan over the piles of prototypes that laid on or near her desks, flashes of her and you standing over them, working on a select few of them, trying to determine their faults and seeing what could be done to correct them. The memories made tears brim at her eyes, the sting of their presence threatening to have them spill over.

“Princess, I must warn you that what you are about to do is extremely reckless,” Griot voiced, the artificial intelligence using his motion detectors to identify that Shuri had ill-intent in her presence here, “destruction of these prototypes could set back the Design Group mo-”

“I said SHUT UP!”

And that’s what set her over the edge.

The loud clashing of metal against metal could only be heard on the inside of the laboratory as Shuri released her pent up rage and resentment onto the poor instruments of technology before her. With each swing her staff, a little relief washed over her, but it was never enough. The tears that had once threatened to fall were now flooding her face in waterfalls, sure to leave streak marks in salty trails of betrayal. Shuri would not be satisfied until either every piece of every prototype was smashed to smithereens, or until her body gave out after the adrenaline had run its course.

She wasn’t aware of how long her onslaught of abuse towards the technological failures was, and if allowed, she probably would have obliterated every other prototype in sight regardless of success status, because her bitterness knew no bounds. She was only stopped when a set of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, encasing her smaller body in a cage of flesh, ripping away from her her prized weapon of destruction. Shuri desperately tried to free herself, but her attempts were futile when she realized who exactly had come to stop her.

T’Challa’s voice does not come in harsh yells and bellows; it is instead gentle and reassuring. He holds Shuri close to his chest, easily resisting her thrashing, only encouraging calm repose to enter her mind. It was moments before Shuri would cease her thrashing around, her body growing heavy with the loss of adrenaline, causing her and T’Challa to sink to the floor. Shuri clung to her brother, anguish strewn on her face and in her cries, her tight grasp surely leaving unpleasant marks and creases into T’Challa’s sleepshirt.

“She left me…-”

“Shhh, sister.”

“Why did she leave me-!” And if it wasn’t the sight of Shuri distraught and riddled with heartache that broke T’Challa’s heart, it was definitely her words.

The next day, Shuri is bedridden with an unexplainable fever. The doctors say a number of things could have contributed to it - the fact that she likes to keep the lab at an unbearably cool temperature, the fact that she has been neglecting her body’s basic needs of food and rest. And while T’Challa is sure those factors are at play, he also strongly believes that the departure of her other half plays a much bigger role than what many would believe. In fact, he knows it plays a much bigger role. He knows because he’s endured the same.

Shuri’s recovery is quick, as one expects when it comes to the maturity of Wakanda’s medical treatment. But there is no medicine in the world that can cure heartbreak.

The next morning after she is back to full health, Shuri ventures to sit atop Mt. Bashenga, in the same spot of which the two of you had taken up several weeks ago to witness the meteor shower. It was a special memory to her, she thinks. A moment in time where she wasn’t a princess of a powerful, yet secret nation. A moment in time when she wasn’t the genius head of the Wakandan Technological Design Group. A moment in time when she wasn’t a daughter, or a sister.

A moment in time when she was just Shuri. And you were just you. And the both of you were just together. The world stopped. It was just the two of you. And for one of few times in these past few years, Shuri was genuinely happy.

Yet now, as she sits here, Shuri feels nothing. There’s a numbness that has overtaken her body, and while she despises the inability to feel, she deems it better than the rage filled rampage she went on a week ago in the laboratory, of which she still has to apologize and make up for to her lab personnel.

Shuri thought that by traveling up here, feeling the sun's strong morning beams on her skin would do something to rid herself of this numbness, but her hypothesis is proven wrong. She is still numb. She is still hurt. She is still in pain.

“Did it feel like this when you and Nakia broke up?”

Her question is directed to T’Challa, who stands behind the boulder the princess has perched herself on. She knows T’Challa is there because the crowned prince has been following her the past few weeks, surely due to the catastrophe she caused in the lab. He’s worried, and it's genuine, that much she can tell.

T’Challa moves to sit beside Shuri, elbows propped on his knees, hands interlocked together as he, too, gazes upon the city below.

“Heartbreak affects people differently,” he begins, his throat tight due to the subject matter, “what you feel, dear sister…I don’t think it is comparable to Nakia and I experienced when we separated.”

A silence settles in, thick and deafening as the wind breezes by. T’Challa is reminded of his own heartache when he turns his gaze to Shuri. Her jawline is tight with sorrow, her eyes are glossed over.

“She said I was special,” Shuri chokes out. The knot of worry in T’Challa’s stomach tightens.

“She said I had something special about me. A ‘special’ she promised to protect…”

Shuri’s gaze drops to her lap, where her fists grasp tight onto the fabric of her pants and little dark spots where tears had dropped are beginning to become bigger, prominent, “but she…she was a loser.”

She spits out the last word with such venom and vexation that would even have T’Challa angered if he had not known better. And when Shuri turns to look at him, his own jaw tightens at the sight of his dearest sister, heartbroken.

“I gave all my ‘special’ away to a loser, brother,” Shuri croaks out, attempting to prevent a sob from escaping her lips, “took my love and just left me-...LEFT me numb…how do you fix this?”

T’Challa can only bring his sister into his chest as he did nights prior, and allow her to sob into his neck as the morning sun embraces the pair - with only one of them welcoming its warmth.

The queen is dead.

Queen Ramonda. Daughter of Lumumba. Wife of King T’Chaka. Mother to King T’Challa and Crown Princess Shuri. The Queen Mother has ascended to be with the ancestors.

It’s hard to believe that her body laid in the black coffin before you.

The silence is deafening in the forest clearing. No one dares to break it, so the only things heard are the birds that chirp and the wind that rustles the leaves of the trees. The silence itself even has a sound - something reminiscent of static and ringing combined. It’s heavy with an unbearable weight - the weight of the severity of the situation at hand that has caused devastation to the royal family.

There’s a thick lump in your throat that burns with sorrow as you maintain your gaze forward, for if you were to even shift your eyes, the tears that had brimmed at your lids would surely fall. The view of Okoye, Ayo, Aneka and a few select members of the Queen’s Guard appointed as pallbearers, lifting the obsidian coffin from its place on the green forest floor almost made you choke. You watched reluctantly as they carried her off, and the circle that once surrounded the coffin slowly followed in suit.

There’s pressure being applied to your hand, and suddenly you remember that you stand beside Shuri, the last remaining member of the Royal family. That since the beginning of the procession, you and Shuri had been inseparable.

Shuri, even as she seethes in her own grief, knows she is not the only one who has lost a mother.

You couldn’t remember exactly when your hands made contact, interlocking tightly, providing what was hoped to be a comforting compress every now and then, reminding each of you of the presence of one another. It was almost telepathic, how one of you would sense the other getting lost, and would bring the other back into the realm of reality with an action so simple, yet so anchoring.

The scene is clear, and you allow yourself to release the breath you’d been holding for a while. It comes out staggered, the tightness in your throat still rendering your voice useless. But as you see the tall, burly man known as the leader of the Jabari make his trek over to the pair of you, your lips reluctantly part as you lean in to the princess’s ear to mumble your next words to her quietly, fearing that raising your voice any higher than a whisper would cause your voice to crack.

“I’ll walk for you,”

Shuri, who up untill this point had had her gaze casted downward, looks up to meet your gaze, her eyes dancing across your face. It's a mixture of shock, confusion, her hand gripping yours tighter. She doesn’t want you to leave, you think, and for a moment, you almost consider taking your words back. Her brown irises burn into yours with the question of why, and as she begins to fix her lips to protest, you cut her off before she has a chance to speak.

“You’ve got someone who wants to talk to you,” you murmur again, motioning to M’Baku’s approaching figure. Shuri glances at him, her hold on your hand unrelenting. So you take your other hand, soothing it over hers, forcing yourself to speak again, “so talk. Leave the rest to me.”

Shuri wants to protest, but with the tone of your voice, she knows it’ll be futile. She pulls her lips into a tight line, giving a short nod of approval. M’Baku’s footsteps come to a halt, making his presence known. Shuri returns to her downward gaze, while you raise your eyes to meet the Jabari Tribe leader.

M’Baku was a man you’d only heard stories about until recently. Leader of a tribe who’s resentment to technology proved to be no hindrance in their ability to grow and evolve, you’d expect an old, haggard warrior full of judgment and disdain. This M’Baku, however, radiated a different feel. A heart of a warrior, with the physique to match, and you could tell that he was as stubborn and unrelenting in his positions as Shuri was. You remember the times she would curse that ‘ungrateful gorilla lord’ as she called him in the past for his opposition to technology, and conclude that they are more alike than what could be seen with the naked eye.

You bowed your head to the Jabari Tribe Leader, and he did the same; an act of mutual respect not for either of you, but for Shuri and for the current event taking place. M’Baku understands your importance to the princess, you think, watching his eyes dart to the space where your hands are clasped together tightly, and so reserves his usual snarky nature for future encounters. In fact, you do not sense any form of sarcasm from M’Baku - it is something more akin to guilt, if anything else.

You take this as your sign to leave, and before you do, you bring Shuri’s hand to your lips and place a kiss upon the back of it, right at the center of her tribal tattoo, of which runs the length of her arm and down to her fingers in intricately woven lines that tell a tale you have not yet been able to decipher. It is one of very few, if not the only, sign of affection you had garnered the courage to show to the princess, given the severity of everything. It’s a silent promise of return, one you vow to keep, as you reluctantly slip your hand from her hold, turn on your heel, and begin walking down the grassy slope.

You take your time during your descent, part of you still refusing to accept that you’d be sending off the woman who’d made herself your mother when you needed her most. Perhaps you thought that the slow trek would give you time to process even a fraction of this, but the only thing your mind can focus on is what Ramonda’s last moments were like as water consumed her.

At some point you paused, looking down at your hands, an unfamiliar emotion blooming in your chest. If there was ever a moment in your life where you despised these powers you held, it was certainly here. Maybe if you weren’t stuck in shock, maybe if you’d wrangled up civilians fast enough, maybe if you could have just moved faster…

The breeze that blew by brought you out of your head. You’d been thankful if this wasn’t the reality you had to return to.

You raised the hood of your white cropped shirt up over your head, the excess of it lingering over your forehead, as you continued your descent down the slope, focusing on the sounds of the cowrie shells of your necklace for grounding.

Once you’ve made it to the beginning of the procession trail, Nakia is the first to greet you, and although she is confused at the fact that it is you who comes down the slope and not Shuri, she leaves that question for afterwards. The elders accompanying the train seem to be in the same unanimous mindset.

Nakia pulls you into the innermost section of the train, holding your hand as Shuri once did, but it’s not as warm as her, not as comforting, despite the friendship you had acquired with the former spy before her and T’Challa’s initial separation. If Ramonda was the mother you never had, and T’Challa a brother, then she certainly took the role of sister very seriously.

“Are you sure about this?” She whispers to you, her grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. There’s a pause as she looks you over - your head was kept down so that your hood kept your identity obscured. Your free hand was tucked deep into the pockets of your pants, fabric loose and flowy, and if one looked close enough, they could see glimpses of clear embellishments in them.The gold and blue waist beads that adorned your midsection, paired with similar colored bangles and rings, helped pull the attire together. Not necessarily formal, which Nakia is sure the elders had a choice of words for, but nonetheless the significance of Wakandan influence throughout the outfit was shown.

“Let’s just get this over with,”

Nakia swallows, nodding in acknowledgement, signaling the head of the procession to proceed.

The realization of Ramonda’s death comes to you in waves. Each patronizing tide crashes into you harsher and more brutal than the last.

You feel it the worst when you find yourself sitting at the edge of the river. The water and its consciousness has always called to you during the most ironic of times. The moon hangs high in the night, accompanied by stars that make the river waters look like a blanket of sequins covering the earth. Off into the distance, there’s loud music, chants and prayers being sung into the night sky, the citizens of the Golden City celebrating the life of their glorious queen, and the protection and prosperity that she provided under her reigns.

There was a part of you that wanted to join, but you knew that being in that kind of scene would be too much for you. Although brief, the relationship you had with the Queen Mother was truly that of mother and daughter. She protected you, loved you as her own, taught you the beauty of life.

The fact that you could not protect her the same way was a wound that couldn’t be treated; a scar that would never be healed; a pain that would never go away.

You looked out into the waters again. The sound of waves crashing into the shores, pulling back, repeating - it lulled your mind into a seemingly never ending loop, recalling the events of days prior. When these same waters nearly devoured the city, and took the life of its matriarch. You fishing out struggling citizens caught in the brutal current that overtook the city, the sight of Namour flinging what was later confirmed as water bombs into the palace throne room.

If you had been faster in your movements all together, maybe you could have provided protection for her. If you’d stayed with her when you first touched down in Wakanda instead of seeking Shuri out. If only you were there, as she was for you…maybe her face wouldn’t be haunting you every time you closed your eyes. Maybe she’d still be here when you opened them.

It’s when opening said eyes that they focus on the water once more, the darkness of it’s depths and the reflection of the night sky painted in obsidian becoming a dark temptation. One that your mind, too distraught and broken as it is, can’t seem to avoid. It’s as if the waves crashing on the shore calls to you, the tide kissing your bare feet as it rolls onto the shore and pulls back, as if gesturing you to fall into its cold, swallowing embrace.

And it’s before your mind even comprehends what you’re doing, but your body seems to welcome the idea.

There’s an ache in your legs as you stand, the breeze that wisps by blowing through your clothes. The sounds of celebration are drowned out as your senses are overwhelmed by the sound of the river. It’s calling to you, a deadly coaxing into its waters, and your feet move to answer it’s calling without proper permission.

Flashes of Ramonda spin in your head as the coldness of the waters make sharp contact with your clothes and sink into your skin, your bones, pulling you in further. Her kind smile, her soothing voice; pieces of your memories with her overtake your thoughts completely. Your chest tightens with an overwhelming guilt that eats at your very being, and it’s becoming less and less apparent what your body is taking you into. However, the cold waters provide comfort for the burning rue that courses through your veins.

The waters are up to your knees now, and it reminds you of the first time you visited this river with the queen. It was a part of your rehabilitation, a form of therapy the Wakandan medical staff said, to teach you to not fear the water. You weren’t able to pass with the guidance of any of the medical staff, but the moment Ramonda got into the water with you, holding your hands into hers, talking you through the exercise and comforting you afterwards - it was the first time you were able to step into water, and not break down in a hyperventilating mess.

She was the only reason you’d grown tolerable of your powers, made peace with the circumstances you were born into, and started to accept yourself for who you were.

These memories of her flashing before your eyes; one would think that they would help drive you away from the act you were about to commit, but the reality of it was that there would be no more memories like these to make.

You were chest deep now, the river water weighing your body down. It took so much for you to keep your head afloat, a small part of you still resisting the urge to sink further in. The wetness on your face couldn’t be distinguished between tears or river water, but soon, it wouldn’t matter.

You didn’t bother taking a breath in. You were content with your last view being the night sky still lit up in celebration as you allowed the waters to finally consume your entire being. The sting of oxygen leaving your airways and being replaced with water was immense, and while there was an urge to fight against it, there just wasn’t any strength left in you to act on it. The moon shining down on you underneath the surface of the water faded the further you sunk in and the more you allowed water to replace the air in your lungs.

You thought this was your end. Part of you wanted it to be. But someone else had other plans.

In the midst of your descent you vaguely felt something, or someone, grasp into your clothes, then your midsection, pulling you up to the surface, and suddenly the urge to fight became stronger. With compromised vision, you relied solely on your hands to find the culprit and rid yourself of them. No matter how much you struggled, though, the hold on you was stronger and more persistent in your survival than you were.

One moment you’re on the brink of death, and the next, you’re back on the river shore, coughing up water, and a familiar voice is spewing concerned questions at you in disbelief.

“What in Bast name were you doing!?” Okoye shouts, heaving heavily from having to pull your nearly limp form out of the river water. She’s dressed in a dark blue one piece, seemingly made darker from being saturated with water. The look on her face is more of hurt than anger, and the sight of her paired with the realization that you in fact were rescued from your attempt has irritation boiling in you.

“Why did you do that!” You shout back through gritted teeth, still reeling yourself from the heaviness that’s sunken into your bones.

Okoye is shocked by your question, and replies, “Are you really asking me why I saved you from the river waters?! From yourself?!”

“You couldn’t have fuckin’ left me alone?!” You spat.

“You ask me to watch you as you kill yourself?! I advise you to remember who you speak with, (Y/N).”

Okoye sits over your drenched form, and despite your attempts to push her away from you, she is stronger than you, and holds you down firmly in her attempt to calm your brewing anger.

“Stop, (Y/N)- just calm down-”

“Let me fucking go, you bit-”

In your right mind, a word like that would have never left your lips. Especially not towards Okoye. So when the intense sting left from her hand finally snaps some sense into you, it causes your body to pause, and your mind begins to recollect itself.

A beat passes while you sit up, raising a hand to your cheek, sensitive from the slap delivered to you by the former Dora general. You both look at each other in surprise, seemingly unsure how to continue on after that.

But you take the time to let everything sink in.

Your wet clothes make the added weight on you apparent. The slight struggle with each intake of air. The dark trail in the sand that led from the river waters to your exact position. The realization hits you hard, and tears begin to swell in your eyes once more.

Okoye’s movement stutters for a moment, before she grabs your hands into her own, pulling your attention from the water and onto her. Your body falls into Okoye’s as sobs begin to rack through your figure, grasping onto her like a cold, wet cat.

Your words of apology are tired, scared, and meek. Neither you nor Okoye can tell who they’re directed to, but the former general continues to hold you regardless. And if anything hurts her heart the most, it is the fact that such calamity has broken you, made you think of yourself as a failure, and the one person who could reconcile with you was not here to provide you with the forgiveness you sought.

It seems like hours have passed before you’ve come to somewhat of a calm state, Okoye allowing you space for vulnerability. She knows you’re not entirely here, and she doesn’t expect you to be. Perhaps it is because she herself knows, to some degree, how you feel right now. She has seen much in her days as a Dora Milaje, majority of those experiences not pretty, and if she had the powers to do so, she would take away everything that you were feeling right now. The amount of situations you have had to endure and the circumstances of your existence up til now was a weight no child should have to live their life with.

Okoye sighs as she closes the door to your chambers, pausing for a moment to take a breather. Ayo waits beside her, also in casual wear as her presence as a Dora was not needed for this evening. She was the first person Okoye could think of to assist her in bringing you back to the palace. Ayo had a naturally soothing nature, not necessarily carefree, but one that radiated youth and comfort, of which Okoye admittedly lacked. It greatly helped with getting you into a headspace where you could function properly, assisting with comforting words and short stories of distraction as the two helped you into your room, finding you a fresh set of clothes, and leaving you to shower and dress in privacy.

“Thank you, Ayo,” Okoye sighed once more, turning to face the other dark skinned woman, “I apologize again for disrupting your evening-”

“Okoye, please,” Ayo interjects, “this matter needs no apology.”

There’s a light pause as Okoye’s hand wipes down the length of her face, still reeling from the events of hours prior. Events of which she hadn’t fully disclosed to Ayo, but it didn’t take long for the Dora warrior to put two and two together. The weight of such an action was too heavy to speak on, but was also too big to ignore, and both of them knew that.

“Am I right to assume word of this does not reach Shuri?” Ayo hums, though the answer she already knows.

Okoye has yet to rid herself of thinking as a general. Had she still held such a title, it would rightfully be her duty to report such an event to the princess; not because you were her unlabeled lover, but simply because it was her job. But as she was but a simple civilian, one who, in all actuality, shouldn’t even be within palace walls right now, Okoye has to learn to lean into her personal morals.

“As the situation stands now, it wouldn’t be wise for the princess to know her other half just tried to commit suicide,” and although they are her words, the bluntness of which they come out makes herself uncomfortable; a trait she also acquired as a Dora warrior that was both a gift and a curse, “and…it is not our story to tell.”

Ayo nods, understanding entirely. Her gaze shifts from Okoye to the door of your chambers, and then back to Okoye as a breath leaves her lips.

Ayo’s respect for Okoye, general or not, with or without titles, knew no bounds. The woman before her had taught Ayo everything she knew, and while Okoye could be hard at times, she had a good heart, one with an unyielding amount of righteousness.

“Okoye,” Ayo murmurs, her hands reaching out to caress the other woman's arms in comfort, knowing from the distraughtness in her eyes that the former general was thinking the worst.

“I just-” Okoye choked out, taking a deep breath to calm herself, “-what if I had not gotten there in time-”

“Okoye, you got there,” Ayo reassured, “you got there, and you stopped her, and she is here. You are here. That is what matters, nothing else.”

Okoye nods, she knows Ayo is right, and she should not allow herself to think anything less, and to seal the deal, Ayo brings Okoye into a reassuring embrace. It’s short, but it does wonders in grounding both women.

It’s soon interrupted when your room door opens, revealing your refreshed form in new clothes - black sweat pants and a dark gray long sleeve shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows - and the two women separate to greet you. It’s awkward, the weight of everything lingers onto your shoulders, but there’s a mutual agreement to not speak about it. Not until you are ready to.

“I am certain the Princess is still in the lab. Time is an illusion to her these days,” Ayo begins, breaking the silence with an offer that instantly makes your eyes dart upwards to meet their gazes, “let us walk there. Perhaps even Ms. Williams, that American scientist, will be there as well.”

It’s an enticing offer, the urge to seek comfort from Shuri starts to flutter throughout your being. Okoye follows Ayo’s lead, adding on an encouraging nod as she places a hand on your back to help push you forward. Ayo does the same, as the three of you walk towards the Design Group laboratory. The weight on your shoulders grows a little bit lighter.

“Yo, can you shoot me that configuration algorithm you be usin’?” Riri calls from the secondary level of the laboratory, down to Shuri who is stationed at the lower first level, performing examinations on a piece of jewelry she received from the conniving Namour, his attempt at seducing the princes into an alliance. It was nothing short of beautiful, the cyan-blue gems with gold beads and pearls strung together in perfect harmony. And the story accompanied with it was nothing short of heartbreaking; and for that, Shuri did have a sliver of sympathy for the self-proclaimed god.

Keyword: did.

“One second!” Shuri responds, resting the fragile accessory back onto the petri dish, setting aside her tools, and bringing up a holographic screen, tapping away at the tinted blue square until a small ‘swoosh’ sound echoed out. Seconds later, the woman one flight of stairs above confirmed that she received the aforementioned algorithm.

“This shit is so much better than what I did. How the hell was I makin’ shit?” Shuri hears Riri’s murmur of surprise, which causes a chuckle to erupt from her. Shuri isn’t overly cocky - she knows that the technology she has developed is lightyears ahead of anything even the most elite American scientists could conjure up. Riri’s astonishment brings a sense of pride to the princess, and for a moment, she forgets the severity of the current time.

Her pride doesn’t stay long, though. The moment she turns back to the petri dish holding the ancient bracelet, Shuri’s shoulders tighten up once more. She returns to her previous actions, picking up the pair of tweezers and the tiny exacto-knife like instrument she was using to chisel off smaller pieces of the blue gem laced with vibranium for further research.

“What’re you even doin’ with that thing down there?” Riri calls out again, curious as to what Shuri’s motives are for analyzing what she assumed to be a fickle piece of jewelry from a long ass time ago - and quite frankly, she’s not wrong in that description - as she leans over the banister to watch the Princess work below. “If a nigga thought jewelry was gon’ win me over, I’d throw that shit right back in his fuckin’ face.”

Shuri scrunches her face at Riri’s choice of words - the vernacular of black Americans is something she has very little exposure to, but tries her best not to judge. After all, it is Riri’s culture, and she has no place to make unsolicited remarks about her choice of vocabulary.

“It is more than just jewelry, Ms. Williams-”

“Don’t call me that, I ain’t my momma.”

“Fine. It’s more than just jewelry, Riri.”

The Chicago native tilts her head to the side, intrigued. “What more is it then?” She asks. “Do it got that vibranium stuff in it?”

Shuri hums in response, satisfied with the amount of the blue mineral she had scrapped off, and setting the bracelet aside. She transfers the powered substance to a smaller clear slab to place it under her nearby microscope.

“It does. Not in the way we use it, though.”

The idea that Shuri has in mind is a longshot, a hypothesis far out of the realms she’s used to exploring. While in theory, the bracelets vibranium properties could do wonders in assisting in the recreation of the heart-shaped herb, there was an overwhelming possibility that it was also all for not. She had tried recreating the sacred herb more times than she can count, and has failed more times than she can count. The lab itself is a testament to her efforts - in times of her failures the Princess wouldn’t hesitate to take out her frustrations on her surroundings. Be they people, objects, or anything else of the like. And with each attempt, it only discouraged the princess more and more. She was supposed to be a genius, a marvelous young mind able to accomplish anything. It was safe to say, while Shuri knew she was a genius, her consistent failures with the heart-shaped herb project did not make her feel as one.

But this time, she has to try again. For her mother. Namour had a debt to pay, and Shuri would have it be by her hand, adorned with panther claws.

There’s a moment of silence as Riri watches Shuri’s movements, confused, but as Shuri settles back into her mode of concentration, Riri instead decides to put a pin in her questions and return back to her original mission - fishing through scrapped parts for her own project.

It’s then that Griot sounds to life, alerting the two scientists of the arrival of a new person entering the lab. Shuri looks up with a huff, not enjoying the interruptions distracting her from her analysis. Though when she sees your face, that initial irritation seeps away.

She notices that your walk seems forced and strained, and your face screams something akin to exhaustion, and suddenly worry overtakes her senses. Her thin brows scrunch into a frown as she examines you coming closer to her. Her attention leaves the microscope and she’s immediately over you, her nimble hands raising to cup your face, and warmth consumes her as you lean into her gentle touch.

It surprises you for a moment, Shuri’s sudden closeness to you. The undeniable tension that has surrounded the two of you seems to melt away in this instant, and although anxious, you allow Shuri to express her care for you.

“Hey,” you mutter out, exhaustion lingering in your voice as you speak. Quite frankly, if it weren’t for the wise words and persuasion of Ayo and Okoye, you would have retired to your chambers for the evening, wanting to be left alone. But both women agreed that solitude was not the best solution for your state of mind. A trip to the laboratory would do you good; a trip to see Shuri would do you good. The both of you needed each other now more than ever. You knew this, and despite Shuri’s lingering resentment of the past, she knew too.

“Hey…hey. Are you alright?”

Shuri’s brown irises bore into your, quizzing you intensely, wanting the truth. But the truth was something you could not give her right now, for if you did, there was no telling what might ensue afterwards. And quite frankly, you weren’t in a position to be selfish and seek her undivided attention. You were amidst war right now. There was no room for your desire of closeness to the Princess.

“I’m alright,” you respond, and rightfully so this time, Shuri doesn’t believe you. She attempts to pull her hands away from your face, but in a desperate attempt to remain close to her for just a little while longer, your hands shoot up to her wrists, stopping her from pulling away. Shuri doesn’t fight this, but instead, her glare becomes more intense.

“I’m fine, Shuri, really-”

“Don’t lie to me, (Y/N),” the Princess whispers, her voice cracking ever so slightly, swallowing the thick lump in her throat, “please.”

For a moment, you consider it. You consider bearing everything to her, thinking that submitting to her request would put her mind at ease. But there’s more than simply telling her what you attempted to do down by the river. There was more to everything. And that, you think, is what she doesn’t realize.

It’s here you make a vow that once everything has settled, you would tell her. You would tell her everything. You just hoped that she could wait for you for just a little while longer.

“Shuri,” you begin, leaning into her touch a little bit more, returning her intense gaze to establish a connection deeper than the physical one already made, and Shuri holds it firmly, “I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll be okay.”

It’s the ‘I’ll be okay’ that confirms for Shuri that you were in fact, not fine, and as much as she wants to protest and pry you for the truth, your gaze enacts an unknown effect on her that prevents the princess from doing so. She can’t distinguish it, she can’t even tell if it’s your lingering eyes that tell her not to question you further, and oddly, she doesn’t object.

“I just came down here to help out,” you add on, “I just wanna…keep busy. Been in my head too long. I know I don’t understand this stuff like that, but…”

There's a brief pause, where Shuri takes a deep breath, her hands slipping from your cheeks, ghosting your neck, over your shoulders and resting again at your biceps. She hates that she knows you’re lying and won’t tell her the truth, but what she hates more is that she can’t even do anything about it. If she does pry, you won’t give in, and it would ensue an argument, one of which she did not need right now. If she doesn’t, she’s still left in the dark, and there’s nothing Shuri hates more than the unknown. Either way, it's a lose-lose situation.

“I don’t wanna argue,” you murmur, verbalizing the words Shuri had left muddling over in her head, “so can we, I don’t know, call a truce or something to whatever we got goin’ on?”

“A truce is for war…do you insinuate that we are at war with one another?”

Frankly, it wouldn’t be too far off from what you’ve been feeling since the day you’ve returned.

“It ain’t me against you, it wasn’t ever meant to be. But you can’t say that what we been doin’ is normal.” Shuri diverts her gaze to the side, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as you speak truth. “We don’t argue. Never have. Not like this-”

“We also didn’t keep things from one another,” Shuri interjects, her touch leaving you, and the chill in the lab settling its way into your skin in its absence, “a tradition of which you started-”

“-and I’ma make up for that,” Your words cause Shuri to return her gaze to you, and a newfound emotion overtakes the both of you in that moment. She’s not sure why, but your words of acknowledgement overwhelms the princess. Perhaps it is because for the first time in so long, even if it’s indirectly, her resentment is being validated by the person who caused it.

“I fucked up back then, I get that. But what will there be to fix if we don’t get through the shit we’re in right now?”

There’s a moment of silence that settles among the both of you, and Shuri turns her head once more. Shuri doesn’t want to admit that you’re making more sense than what she wants you to.

“Shuri, look at me.” and she reluctantly complies, returning her gaze to you for the third time, and the intensity of it has Shuri taking a sharp breath, her heart thumping dangerously in her chest. She suddenly notices the closeness in which you two stand in, and it’s a shame she is so reluctant to your attempts at reconciliation, otherwise the princess would have all but thrown herself into your arms.

“I know I have shit to answer for. And when we get through this, you can ask me anything you want. And I’ll give you the full, honest truth to it.” Your vow strikes intrigue into the Princess. Quite frankly, she had not thought you one to propose such an offer. But with the stakes higher than ever right now, Shuri really doesn’t have a reason to refuse you. She has questions - burning ones, ones that have made her sit awake at night with a dull ache in her heart that never truly disappeared. That dull ache is persistent, even now, as she faces you, and once again, decides to trust your words.

“Ms. Williams is up on the second floor-” Shuri begins, though she sharply pauses to correct herself, “-Riri is up on the second floor. She has a project of her own in the works. Assist her.”

Though her tone comes off as cold and dismissive, you do not complain about it. To you, this is a breakthrough, her even allowing you within the same proximity of her despite having deepened the wound in her heart. Of course, the recent events of Ramonda’s death is a factor not to be ignored as well. You watch as Shuri returns to her original position behind the microscope, and while the princess has done well to mask whatever emotions she was still in tune with, you’ve gotten a look at her eyes before she turned away from you. And in her eyes was something you could only describe as a plea. A plea for honesty from you. A plea for your presence. A plea to see through her cracked, but guarded walls, for the woman she truly was. And you made a silent vow to yourself to answer that plea once the main task at hand was taken care of.

You make your trek up the spiral staircase to follow Shuri’s instructions, and you find Riri sat in the middle of a pile of scrap metal and parts, foraging through the piles like a child in a candy store.

So much has happened, you’d barely gotten to know the young woman you’d initially agree to help Shuri obtain. It seems like so long ago, when you met Shuri and Okoye on the campus of MIT, spotting Riri Williams as your target of retrieval. Now, to think, you were assisting in war preparations. You’d seen much more in your days as an Avenger, and yet, you still found yourself surprised the more the plot of this entire ordeal thickens.

“Yo,” you greet to Riri, who picks her head up from examining two pieces of, what you assume to be, tiny accelerators, “Shuri said I could help?”

“Oh, hey,” Riri responds. She pokes her tongue at the inside of her cheek as she glances around her in a swift scan of her surroundings, “uhm, you know sumn’ bout any of this?”

“Not by choice,” you reply, taking a few steps forward before meeting her in the center of the metal heep, mimicking the criss-cross position the young engineer sat in. “Aight….uh, just pick out anything that looks like it can be used for a suit. Y’know, plating, gears, shit like that.”

You nod silently before starting your assigned task. You pick up quickly on more specific items the engineer may need based on certain pieces she picks out on her own. Quiet envelops the two of you, though it isn’t an uncomfortable silence like one would think. You work in perfect harmony, but soon an air of curiosity is looming over you two, and you can't help but notice that Riri seems to have a question she’s itching to ask.

“Spit it out, girl,” you encourage Riri, pausing in your movements as you speak, “you obviously got somethin’ you wanna ask.”

The young engineer does the same motion of sticking her tongue at the inside of her cheek, attempting to formulate her intrigue into a suitable question. “How do you know Shuri?”

You tilt your head, gesturing for Riri to expand, “I mean, like, what’s your story? Where do you fit in in all this mess?”

Your story. It’s a topic you haven’t had to speak on for a while now. Twirling a piece of metal in your hands, you mull over how, or even where, to begin.

“I’m an ex-Avenger. I’m sure Shuri’s told you that much at least,” you respond, to which Riri confirms with a nod, “but my story…it’s kind of long. And complicated. And fucked up.”

“A couple of days ago I was kidnapped by a brown skinned nigga with wings on his ankles who wanted to kill me. Now I’m here planning revenge on the same nigga that killed my new friend’s momma who was protecting me from him. I’m pretty sure that classifies as complicated and fucked up, too.”

Riri’s words send a chuckle erupting from your lips. She did have a point, though. In the span of a week the girl has been through so much, and still somehow manages to maintain an air of calm and carefree about her. It is an aspect of the young engineer you found yourself admiring, envying even.

“Trust me. You ain’t heard shit till you hear my story.”

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animesavior · 3 months

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“Kal-El of Krypton! I answered your call. The Beacon reached me across your Galaxy, the only other Kryptonian in existence. And I arrive, only to see you brought me to this...sickening display. [Superman: "You're Kara, you're my cousin?"] And you're a disappointment. I thought I would find a warrior. Instead, I find a joke, a lapdog, serving his entertainment to a weak and dissolute world. I'm not saying that there aren't temptations here. But a true Kryptonian pushes through. This planet it's made you soft. [Superman: "What are you saying?"] You have two choices, join me in conquering this planet, or kneel before your new Kryptonian Empire.” - Kara Zor-El, My Adventures with Superman (Season 2, Ep. 05)

The Toonami Trending Rundown for June 15-16, 2024. We reach the halfway point of My Adventures with Superman season 2 as Clark reunites with his long-lost cousin Kara. And among other great moments, we’re coming down the stretch with three more episodes of Zom 100’s first season after this week, as Akira returns home to his family; while Usopp and the Dwarves attack Sugar to try and stop her control of the toys.

For this week’s trending on Saturday, #Toonami trended in the USA on Twitter alongside My Adventures with Superman and Zom 100. No trends for Toonami Rewind on Friday were spotted this week.

This week’s feature was a new bumper ID titled “Screen Updates.” You can check it out below:

youtube

While there have been rumors and inclinations from Adult Swim that they do plan on producing a second season of Ninja Kamui, there is no official word on whether a second season is presently in production at this time. In a since-deleted news release by Business Wire, the article included a passage signifying that a second season of Ninja Kamui was in the works, saying ““NINJA KAMUI” anime series has become the most viewed anime ever in the history of both Adult Swim & MAX,” said Joseph Chou, CEO of Sola Entertainment. “We hope this game will continue to entertain the fans around the world while we work on Season 2 of the anime.””

However, Jason DeMarco has denied such an announcement, saying that “A second season has not been announced.” Chou later clarified to Anime News Network on Wednesday: “that the game's PR staff inserted the quote about Sola Entertainment "working on" a second season. While he said that they are considering new ideas, "there is nothing official at all."”

Next month, the block will be in a bit of a transition period as both Zom 100 and My Adventures with Superman will be completing their respective seasons on July 6 and July 20th respectively. For the nights of July 13 and 20th, both One Piece and Demon Slayer will have doubleheaders on the lineup on 12:30-1:30 a.m. and 3-4 a.m. respectively. Furthermore, on July 27, which ironically enough is Comic-Con week this year, My Adventures with Superman will be getting a marathon of all 10 episodes of its second season, a week after its season finale.

Not much else to say other than we hope you had a great Father's Day and Juneteenth, congratulations to the Boston Celtics on winning their record 18th NBA Championship, and stay gold.

Legend: The shows listed are ordered based on their appearance on the schedule. Show trends are listed in bold. The number next to the listed trend represents the highest it trended on the list (not counting the promoted trend), judging only by the images placed in the rundown. For the Twitter tweet counts, the listed number of tweets are also sorely based on the highest number shown based on the images on the rundown.

Toonami Rewind Trends

Tweet Counts:

Adult Swim [9,260 tweets]

#SailorMoon [2,886 tweets]

Toonami Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#17]

#MyAdventuresWithSuperman [#11]

#Zom100 [#9]

Tweet Counts:

#MyAdventuresWithSuperman [1,314 tweets]

If you wish to send me a tip for the work on the trending rundown, donations can be sent to PayPal.Me/DanielLimjoco.

Only Toonami on [adult swim] on Cartoon Network.

#toonami #adult swim #cartoon network #toonami trending rundown #my adventures with superman #superman #dc comics #zom 100 #sailor moon #Youtube

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ladylooch · 1 year

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Loving & Leaving- Part 4

Visit the series page here.

A/N: Now, we are seeing a shift for our little “non- lovers”. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that 😘 Thank you so much for your love and support on this one. It’s been dreamy and exciting!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, lots of vomit talk, pregnancy, angst.

The month of December is hell on earth for event planners. Between your own personal celebrations leading up to the holidays and your client's, you never have a moment to yourself. I’ve seen the inside of my house for a maximum of two hours since I returned back from America. The other times I’ve been there its falling into a pile of exhaustion on my bed before my alarm goes off to do it all over again. My work weeks have transitioned into 70+ hours. At least I know there is light at the end of this tunnel when I return to New Jersey with my parents on Tuesday.

Then, I’ll be able to spend time with them and… hopefully Timo, depending on if I can slip away or not. Communication between the two of us has been limited the last two weeks. I’ve responded to his texts and we have shared a few brief phone calls. At least he’s understanding and supportive. It helps that his season is ramping up and requires a majority of his focus.

We send pictures and TikTok’s, but I haven’t responded to those in five days. I’ve missed every one of his FaceTime calls this week too. Despite my admitted history, I am honestly not avoiding him. The grind of the holiday season is simply catching up with me. I find myself falling asleep the moment I sit down on my couch with a glass of wine. When I’m awake, I feel so overwhelmed that even keeping up with my friends and family here is disappearing from my never ending list. I’m overwhelmed, nearing burn out and honestly, sick. So sick. The last three days, my body has seemingly rejecting all this stress with a nausea I can’t seem to shake.

Which brings me to where I am now, puking, knees quivering on the tiled bathroom floor of an event center for the third time in three days. It’s my last event before Christmas and I’ve spent more time in the bathroom tonight than anywhere else. This is a different kind of sick. It feels like my body is purging everything I put into it before I can get any sort of benefit from it. All I ate was a piece of bread, fast, while rushing back from a dessert emergency in the kitchen. I barely got the last bite down before I was sprinting back to the bathroom.

“What is wrong with me?” I moan, laying the side of my head against the stall. I move to wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. I rest my forearm into my breast and groan at the tenderness. Awareness begins to seep into my thoughts. “No. This is not happening.” I whisper to the empty bathroom.

The door swings open and I grimace, not wanting to have any of the guests of my high-end client hear me. I thought I would have some time alone with the speaking part of the program under way.

“Em, are you okay?” Rhea, my assistant and long-time friend, asks.

“Um.” I pause, pressing the back of my hand furthering into my wet lips. My stomach lurches and I vomit again. I can hear Rhea sigh outside of the stall.

“This isn’t like you.” She says what we are both thinking. I’m rarely sick. This is new. “I’ll be back.” She calls before leaving the bathroom. I sit on my knees, eyes screwed shut, spitting into the toilet. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing Timo’s FaceTime call. I can’t answer that right now. Not when I think… I won’t let myself even finish the thought.

Rhea returns, kicking a pink, pregnancy test box under the stall. The woman on the front grins joyfully. I can’t say I feel the same. I consider denying that I need one of these, but Rhea and I spoke this morning about how weird my cycle has been. I had my period a few weeks ago, but it was almost non-existent. I chalked it up to stress, except… now I’m sick.

“How do you just have one of these?” I mumble, hating that we are both on the same page.

“At some point, these things are like strips of gum in your purse.”

We fall quiet.

“This is a low moment for me.” I mutter, ripping the box open. “Taking a… test at a client event is so embarrassing.” I work my way to sitting on the toilet.

“You need to be able to eliminate this.” She responds, leaning against the bathroom door. I scowl, hearing my phone vibrate against the toilet paper dispenser. I know that’s him again. So does Rhea. He has the same routine. Calls three times and leaves a message on the third. “Interesting timing. At least you'll know who’s baby it is.” I glare at the stall door as I snap the cap of the test back on.

“Can I have a minute here?” Guilt squeezes my throat at how unfriendly my tone sounds. My whole world seems up in the air right now and I just need her to stop talking.

But the absence of Rhea’s voice makes my phone vibrating louder until it feels like it’s rattling between my ears. A ping echos in the bathroom signaling a voicemail. I grab my phone, listening to his message.

“Hey Em… uh, it’s me again. Look, I know you’re busy but I’m going to be honest this feels like you’re kinda ignoring me. Did I do something? Or… *heavy sigh* I don’t know. Can you just call me? I miss you. We play tonight, but call me.. I’ll pick up. Just… I want to know you’re okay. Bye.”

My bottom lip trembles at the sound of his voice. No. I am not okay, sitting on the floor of this bathroom, trying not to puke again at the reality of the test in my hand. Worried tears build as I sense the two minutes pass. I know the test is ready, can feel it in my shaking hands and the passing of another song from the band beyond this room.

I move my fingers and die at the distinct plus sign that greets me.

“Fuck.” I cry, throwing the test down on the floor. It bounces underneath to the next stall. My abdomen shakes with sobs and terror as I clasp my hand over my mouth. “Fuck.” I say into my palm again, quieter, listening to the classical strings float into the bathroom from the event space. The soft music is an ironic soundtrack to my whole world crashing down on top of me. I look up at the ceiling, tears crawling from the corners of my eyes. They drip into my ears as I shake against the cold floor.

What am I going to do?

How am I going to tell Timo?

A few days later, after arriving in New Jersey for Christmas, I’ve come to the, admittedly, irrational decision that maybe I just won’t. It’s been an exhausting few days that’s accompanied more nausea and tons of smell aversions. One of them is eggs which Nico is innocently frying up for breakfast.

“You want some?” He asks me as he cracks three eggs for himself.

“No.” I can barely respond without gagging.

Our parents went off on their own for a walk around the city and to grab a cup of their favorite coffee. Usually, I would join them, but my stomach has been so touch and go this morning that I didn’t think I could. Nico continues to move the eggs around and they get more fragrant. I try to switch breathing through my mouth, but the smell seems to coat my tongue. My stomach squeezes and I rush from the kitchen with my hand clasped over my mouth. Nico watches my back with confusion. I return to the kitchen wordlessly when I am done, grabbing a glass of water. Nico stares, eyebrows cocked in question.

“Not sure that motion sickness lasts for days, Em. Maybe you need to see a doctor. I can ask one of the team doctors if they can come over?” I’ve already seen a doctor to confirm my pregnancy. And the thought of getting a team official involved has my throat tightening. I come back to the counter, slowly sitting down and rubbing at the tense muscles in my neck. My gaze drifts to the dining room table, grimacing at the reminder it’s one of the places we could have conceived this baby.

I was so stupid to start us down this road. Yes, I’m on the pill. Yes, I take it regularly. No, I have no idea how this happened. When I brought it up to my doctor, she shrugged, saying no birth control options are completely guaranteed. Then she handed me the sonogram I didn’t ask for, that’s now tucked in my suitcase, buried beneath all my clothes.

I watch Nico scrape his eggs onto a plate, then sprinkle more salt and pepper onto the fluffy peaks. He’s right here in front of me, but it feels like we are a thousands of miles apart. Loneliness grips my heart, making my eyes wet as Nico comes to sit by me. The heaviness of being the only person who knows weighs on me. But, here, in his kitchen, I can feel my little brother’s safety being stable enough to take some of that weight from me. I’m going to tell him, I decide as he shuffles his eggs around, spearing a few onto his fork.

“It’s not motion sickness. I’m pregnant.” I tell Nico, who pauses with his eggs at his open mouth. The egg flies off when he exhales sharply. I bite my tongue against the vomit pressing into my esophagus.

“What?”

“And it’s Timo’s.” I didn’t intend to tell him, but it flew out before I could stop it.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Surprise absorbs my face now. “I know you two fuck around.” He motions at me with his fork. “Have for years. You two are awful at hiding your obsession with each other.” My mouth is slightly slack as he stabs the egg back on his fork. He stuffs it into his mouth and continues while he chews. “Never understood why you wouldn’t go all in.”

“Because I have a life in Switzerland.”

“Yeah, that’s gone now.” He swipes the air in front of me with his fork again, gesturing to the pregnancy. I narrow my eyes at his bluntness and obvious lack of empathy. “What did Timo say when you told him?” I am silent. He brings his brown eyes back to mine, squinting. “You did tell him, right?” More silence “Emma.” He snaps.

“I just found out.” I defend myself. “Not that I really owe you an explanation.”

“Get dressed.” Nico says, pointing down the hall to my room. “You’re going to tell him now.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are. It should have been your first stop when you got here.”

“I can’t just show up at his-”

“Are you keeping his baby?” He cuts me off. A heavy inhale pulls my lips apart.

“Yes.” I say without question. It never crossed my mind to not go through with this.

“Then get downstairs.” His voice is final, like there is no reason to continue to argue further with him.

“When did you stop being my protector?” I grumble while rising to leave the counter.

“Who says I stopped?” His stare is pointed. “Go.” His tone has softened at the obvious tears in my eyes. “I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think it would be okay.”

I try to remember those words as I stare at Timo’s apartment door seven minutes later. I thought about texting him, but then there would be so much small talk and I can’t do that right now. I contemplate bailing, but my brother comes to mind, knowing he’s going to expect a report from the conversation when I return.

“Damn you, Nico.” I mutter as I raise my hand to knock.

I wait for a minute, maybe two, gripping the sleeves of my sweatshirt in my hands. No sound comes from the other side of the door. I think I might get off easy. I even turn to head back towards the elevator. Then the sound of the lock flipping halts me. My stomach drops out of my body, hitting the floor and flopping around in unease.

“Hey.” Timo is breathless as he opens the door. He is wearing a pair of jeans, waistband of his Calvin Klein underwear taut against his abdomen. He stands shirtless in the entry way, rubbing a towel over his hair. The brown strands flop against his forehead as he looks expectantly at me. He looks so sexy, warm and welcoming, with a gentle familiarity. “Didn’t realize you were in Jersey.” He becomes obviously tiffed, understandable since I dropped off the face of the planet… again.

“Yeah.” My voice is breaking, so I clear my throat. “I’ve been here for a couple of days.” I say, fingers twisting the cotton tighter in my palms.

“Ah.” His voice goes flat and he looks away in annoyance. “So we are back to you ignoring me?” I shake my head, dropping my eyes to the floor. I feel queasy and start shaking. I hope he can’t tell.

“Can I come in?” He pauses, dropping the towel down to his side, like he might not let me. But him and I both know that’s now how it goes with us. The smell of his cologne is strong with my heightened senses and I cough in discomfort as I walk past him.

“I’m going to get a shirt.” He disappears down the hall, coming back in a black t-shirt that hugs his body. He runs his fingers through his wet hair while looking at me. “I don’t have long. I’m… meeting a friend.” I stare at him, wondering if it’s a friend of the female variety. I really don’t have a right to ask, so I don’t. My gaze drops to the couch. “It’s just Kevin, Em. The Kings are playing the Islanders.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the island of his kitchen well across the room from me. His biceps bulge against the fabric as he studies me. “You don’t look like you came here for small talk. What’s up?”

“I’m pregnant.” It’s abrupt. I know. Almost too fast for him to catch in real time, but I can’t hold it in anymore. The words are too full and tumble from my mouth in a rush. My heart shutters with each anxious beat. I bravely lift my eyes back to him.

Timo seemingly glitches. He is confused, not quite understanding, like he wants to ask me to repeat what I said. Then, I watch as the registration gradually fills his body. He begins to stand taller, eyebrows dashing up his forehead. When it clicks, his blue eyes widen in alarm.

“Mine?” He asks quietly. I try not to flinch at the question, realizing he will, logically, want a paternity test. He has assets and money and a career to protect. Funny, I thought being pregnant without a boyfriend was the most shameful thing I’ve done in my life. I think that experience is going to top it. Eventually, I nod in response as tears fill my eyes. He pushes out a loaded breath that fills my chest with discomfort. I look briefly back to his face, seeing a million emotions dash across his features, none of them actually registering.

I can’t watch him process anymore. I begin to soothe myself with internal thoughts. It doesn’t really matter what he wants from this. I’ve already made my decision. I’m only here because Nico forced me. I cross my arms over my tender chest, walking towards the windows to see the city skyline. Tears distort the buildings together. I’m collapsing under so many different emotions. It’s like I’m seeing that plus sign all over again.

A drop slides from my left eye, gradually dragging down my cheek. I reach my hand up, flicking it away. My teeth dig into my trembling lip as I sniffle. Timo’s hand comes along my upper back, wrapping around my neck and gliding me into his body. His other hand wraps around my waist as he buries his face into my cheek. I enclose my arms around him, shoving my face into his chest and releasing my suffocating sobs into his shirt.

“I’m freaking out.” I squeak.

“I know. It’s going to be okay.” Even as his voice shakes, he is so, so gentle with me. His hands press me into his body like he wants to absorb and shield me. “What do you want to do?” He whispers into my hair. “It’s your choice.”

“I’m gonna do this… I’m keeping the baby. ” I tell him. I can feel his body deflate beneath me. For a moment, I don’t know why, but then he presses his face deeper into my hair, kissing my scalp with feathery kisses meant to soothe.

“Okay. I’m happy to hear that.”

I nod, glad that he isn’t pressuring me any which way. I don’t think I could handle his anger with me for wanting to see this through.

“Em, I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.” I begin to tremble in his arms. He’s not even questioning further about this being ours. “Does Nico know?”

“Yeah. About everything. He is why I am here.”

“You weren’t going to tell me?” He stiffens, pain deepens his voice which makes me feel like shit.

“I.. well yeah, but maybe when we ran into each other in July and I was 9 months pregnant.” I pull back, tilting my chin to see his face. It’s calm and measured, which helps soothe some of the turmoil in me. He reaches up for my cheeks, stroking his thumbs to collect my tears.

“July?”

“Yeah, I confirmed everything at the doctor on Monday. I’m due July 26th.”

“Off-season.” He murmurs with appreciation. “Most NHL couples plan for years to get a July birthday.” I look away with a scrunched nose at the word couple, causing a heavy sigh to drop his shoulders. “Can we agree right now that you’re going to stop fighting the way you feel about us? Please. For our kid?” He says it so casually, like he’s used to and accepted the idea of our kid. My heart grows in my chest for him.

“Becoming a mom isn’t the only thing I’m terrified of.” I confess.

“Baby, I’ve promised you since day one that I would take care of you. I’m not going to let anything hurt you, including me.” He is so sure as he speaks to me. I drop my forehead back to his chest.

“Do you really want this?” I whisper to him, even as he wraps me tighter into his arms, tears dashing down my cheeks again. “You don’t have to do this.” I pull back, reaching up to hold his face in my hands. My thumbs rippling his skin with their pressure.

“You’re all I’ve wanted for years.” He presses our lips together. I cry into his mouth, feeling overwhelmed with everything that has and will happen between us. I feel like I don’t deserve this. Not his sweetness or his understanding at our situation.

“I’m sorry.” I bubble out between sobs. He runs his hand up my back to my head, encouraging my forehead to rest against his shoulder as he rocks us gently. There’s a whole laundry list I could apologize for, but I start with the big one. “I shouldn’t have taken the condom away from you. This is all my fault.”

“Weird, I thought I was the one who came inside of you… three times.” He chuckles at the memory.

“I encouraged it.”

“We both did.” He takes his share of the blame easily from me.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I need him to know that.

“I know, Emma. You’ve been trying to get out of loving me for years. You would never do this on purpose.” I stare at him with blurred vision, blinking so the tears fall down my cheeks. Now I can see him clearly, looking at me like he might finally get the chance to love me for the rest of our lives. I swallow hard, then let myself surrender to him for good.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time, T.” I hum, eyes brightening in earnest with my confession.

He smiles because unlike me, he already knew that.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier #Timo Meier smut #Timo Meier series #New Jersey devils #my writing #hockey fan fiction #hockey writing #NHL writing

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tokidokitokyo · 4 months

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Photo by Weiqi Xiong on Unsplash

2024年4月30日

April is the month of new beginnings in Japan. The school year ends in March, the fiscal year ends in March, and then there is the transition to the new beginnings in April. The cherry blossoms are the biggest symbol of this transition from one school year to the next, and the beginning of work for many of those just entering the workforce.

It makes sense that April can be a new beginning for Japanese studies as well. So, for April, I wanted to rededicate myself to my studies. Honestly, I rededicate myself at least every month, and every year, because my priorities and abilities are constantly changing. I do, however, like to have certain periods of time to mark out major changes.

So what does this look like for me? I have been spending a lot of time with Japanese mom friends from my son's Japanese preschool, my son has been growing ever proficient in Japanese (thanks to his time at school, his immersion at home, and his rapidly-developing brain), which has begun to show me in detail where I am doing well and where I am deficient. I'd like to keep pace with my son's proficiency and to challenge myself (because I really love studying Japanese).

So, in general terms, I am rededicating myself to my goals from the beginning of 2024 and to studying for the JLPT N2 exam.

3月と言えば終わり、4月と言えば始まりですね。入学式もあって、入社もあって、年度初めでもあって、日本で色々が始まります。

そして、4月から日本語の勉強についてリフレッシュもしようと思います。4月にまた気合を入れて日本語の勉強に集中したいと思います。実は自分が毎年や毎リフレッシュしますが、それは日本語の目的も能力もいつも変化しているからです。しかし、4月にもう一回リフレッシュするのを決めました。

リフレッシュと言えば、何ですか？最近息子の幼稚園で会ったママ友とよく話したりしていて、息子の日本語の能力をレベルアップを認めていて、自分の足りない部分が見えるようになりました。息子の役に立つになりたくて、自分も日本語を勉強するのが好きで、これからもっとチャレンジしようと思っています。

それで、自分の年初の目的と日本語能力試験のN2の勉強に集中するつもりです。

April Progress

I think that April was the most balanced my study has ever been amongst all the areas of study that I focus on. My goals in April included continuing my focus on Reading, Writing, Grammar, and Listening.

Here is how my goals went:

〇 = Great, △ = Decent, ✖ = Not Great

Read daily - read almost every day 〇

Write sentences 4 times a week - wrote sentences mostly 4 times a week 〇

Review kanji and vocabulary flash cards daily - didn't practice flash cards at all due to focus on other types of study ✖

Review 1-2 N3 grammar points weekly - did reviews 〇

Learn 1-2 N2 grammar points weekly - focused on practicing these using example sentences I wrote myself 〇

Listen to 1 podcast a week - yes! 〇

Continue to work on あ～お hiragana with my son, add in か～こ - yes! 〇

I am proud of sticking to the things that I wanted to do, and also incorporating more study for the N2 into my routine. Other things I did included:

Kanji & Vocabulary: Learning new vocabulary and kanji from reading Japanese books and manga, although I don't include it explicitly in my count for the study areas.

Listening: Watched the NHK Taiga drama 光る君へ (Hikaru kimi e) and understood some of the court-related words (thanks to the 日本の歴史366 daily reads) and complex dialogue.

Speaking: Continued to talk to my mom friends (ママ友) from preschool, getting advice and also embarrassing myself sometimes when I misunderstand something ^^;

May Goals

For May, I'd like to keep my momentum and excitement for studying going, and to try to focus on JLPT N2 textbooks more. I'll also try to continue reviewing N3 information. I'll keep my goals the same as in March, and just add in additional study materials where I feel necessary.

Additional Study Materials:

Renshuu.org flashcards for Kanji & Vocabulary

新にほんご500問 (Kanji, Vocabulary, Grammar drills)

日本語総まとめN2 (Kanji, Vocabulary, Grammar, Listening, Reading workbook)

外国人のための日本語敬語の使い方 (85 Basic Expressions of Japanese honorifics for Quick and Easy use, aka Keigo)

絵本 (Japanese children's books (see my photo above), to practice reading aloud large chunks of hiragana quickly)

If you've read this far, thank you! These updates are mostly motivation for me, but I hope at least the pictures are pretty and maybe you find a new resource when you read these ^.^

See you next month!

ここまで読んでいただいてありがとうございました。毎月のアップデートはほぼ自分のためだけど、面白い写真を見れるかもしれないし、それとも使えるリソースを見つかれるかもしれまない ^.^

また来月！

#日本語 #japanese #japanese language #japanese langblr #japanese studyblr #langblr #studyblr #日本語の日記 #japanese diary #japanese goals #japanese goals 2024 #tokidokitokyo #japanese studyspo #my photo #tdtphoto #japanese goals april 2024

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indigo-villin · 4 months

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New Intro Post

Hello my name is Indigo and this is my main blog, my pronouns are he/they/it/fae/tv. I do and post many things here like agere content, therian content, otherkin content, fandom stuff, random art I enjoy, and other more random things. I am 24 and I age regress to ages 4-18 (it's in stages, 4-8, 9-12, 13-18). I'm a cat therian, mermaid/siren otherkin, and fictionkin with Starlight Glimmer (mlp), Haruhi Fujioka (ohschc), Roxanne Wolf (fnaf), Queen Chrysalis (mlp), Luigi (mario franchise), Phone guy (fnaf), and Puddle Slime (slime rancher), also plantkin (willow tree).

Fandoms/fav franchises:

-Batim/batdr+ -FNAF (not so much the books, too poor) -Little nightmares series -Slime rancher series -Outlast (not 2) -Uncharted series -Indigo Park -Spyro games -Welcome to the game franchise -Other one-off games (among the sleep, paleo pines, wobbledogs, ABZU, poppy playtime) -TADC -Care bears -Anything involving puppets (mfn, dark crystal, sesame street, welcome home, etc) -MLP (all gens, not as much with g5 haven't caught up) -Monster high (all gens, g3 has been great) -Dolls (18 inch, decora girlz, rainbow high, furry/cutie reveal barbies, blythe, lol surprise, lol omg, lol tweens love the tweens most, crybaby bffs, cave club, mermaid high, etc) -Smaller toys (LPS, zombaes, zoobles, zhu zhu pets, puppy/kitty/jungle/etc in my pocket, shopkins, hatchimals, capsule machine toys)

~~I have other blogs~~

@dollie219 my doll account

@multi-soup my system account

@indigo-rants my vent/rant account

@b3h3mo7h my OC blog for my OC/fursona Snowball the moth

@indigo-bies an OC blog for my closed species OCs the Necrobies (and associated subspecies)

All accounts are set up as being my side accounts/attached to this one.

~DNI under cut~

DNI:

-Homophobic people/TERFS/FARTS/Transphobic people -Ableist people/people who don't believe x disorder "actually exists"/people who believe "everyone's a lil autistic"/also people who say you don't have x because y ie fake claiming. (YOU are the problem) -SWERFs (sex work is WORK regardless of the type. These workers deserve to be treated with respect PERIOD.) -Racists/Nazis/Israel supporters (Free Palestine 🍉) -Pedos("MAPs")/Zoophiles (pro contact specifically) -Anti-endo/anti-non traumagenic people -Ageplay, ddlg, abdl, etc accounts (this is an agere account, NOT a kink blog) -Conservatives/Republicans/Christians that throw it in people's faces all the time -Anti-agere/Anti-petre/Anti-furry/Anti-Therian/Anti-Otherkin/Anti-neopronouns/Anti-xenogender -"AI art" accounts -People who call things/people cringe -Transid/transdx (self diagnosis is a valid thing but claiming you transitioned to have a disorder isn't) -Transrace/transage/other trans x thing to mean you transitioned to something that you can't physically transition to (not counting being too poor for surgeries this is specifically about people wanting diff skin tones and/or being "seen as younger cause they're transitioning to be" you age up not down shut up, either age regress alone or fuck off)

These next ones are just personal

-People who hate Starlight from MLP (I kin her) -People who hate Snow White (fav princess) -People that complain about how monster high g3 is "less than g1" or whatever -People who complain/bad mouth mlp g5 -FNAF fans who go and complain about X and Y fans "not being true fans" (just shut up you're being childish/immature) -FNAF fans who don't understand that "The Tales From the Pizzaplex" books ARE canon to Security Breach and its DLC. (They've LITERALLY explained this when they were getting released)

#intro post #pinned post #dni post #agere blog #therian blog #otherkin blog #alterhuman #fictionkin blog

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poisonouspastels · 1 year

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Anon forgot time exists. I would really love to hear more about Groda's transition from antagonist to basically house cat! Her character really fascinates me and I love a good redemption arc.

Hey no worries at all!! I've actually been talking to Atlas a lot abt Groda lately (he's #1 Groda fan I'm pretty sure) so I can actually copy/paste some of the stuff I've talked abt previously! And to anyone who needs to do some additional catch up reading, I talk about a lot of her past history here, and a bit about more recent (but also still past) events here. But!!! Talking about her (rather long) transitional period specifically, that pretty much started the moment that she got (unwillingly) taken home by the main 4 players after her defeat. Given she held Rana hostage for a few days, among other things, fair's fair. The main focus point though was after everyone getting back to somewhat decent health, Herobrine using his magic was able to find a way to block Groda from using it on her own, hence creating a longer term solution than just having her tied up forever effectively. Groda, without her magic, is a goddamn sitting duck. No Wardens, no turning people to stone, no way to fight back other than a half-hearted slap fight at best. Unfortunately her loss of the ability to use magic ALSO means almost no one could understand her anymore. Previously, thanks to her magic, the Galactic language was basically auto-translated to the players as Commonspeak (her lips actually wouldn't fully sync up with words she spoke, something that was noted by Rana during her time stuck with her in the caves), but now she'd only be reduced to Galactic at its purest form. Fortunately due to Herobrine's self-taught learning of the language (albeit a VERY butchered version of it being self taught), he at least was able to still understand her and communicate in some regard. Or perhaps you could consider that unfortunate for him, given the only weapons Groda had left to use was her words, and he had to be the brunt of actually understanding that and teaching her Commonspeak. On the contrary, soon after this revelation Rana would try and learn Galactic to try and make Groda more comfortable with the current circumstance and maybe feel more motivated to put in the effort. She's not very good at it, but it's the thought that counts! Groda did pick up rather quickly on Commonspeak though, since it and Galactic aren't too far apart in translation. Once she picked up enough on the language to be able to communicate basics (and maybe curse words she would pick up on from Alex), she would soon be getting her hands dirty for once in her life and actually doing field work with Rana, not only to carry her own weight in chores but also to get her more in touch with the new world and being an actual PERSON after her long lived royal life. With time, learning more of Commonspeak and taking in the world around her with the people who were willing to even TRY and help her change for the better, she started to realize more and more how badly her actions managed to inadvertently fuck everything up. How much the world had changed because of what she unleashed, and the weight of her actions fully dawning on her. Which I give this important note of Groda's characterization to:

She gets better slowly with time of course, its all just taken day by day and she learns more and more to do things for herself and to help those around her. I think one of my favorite turning points for her though is when Rana and Herobrine bring home a Sniffer egg they found in some old wreckage at sea. (Sniffers being a species in this instance that went extinct because of the Wither being unleashed by her) Groda is dumbfounded to see the thing even intact at ALL, and hesitant to hope that it may still harbor life at all, but she does take it upon herself to care for it until it does indeed eventually hatch! She names him Bear :)

Thank @beegswaz for the art of them together im obsessed with it Another important arc for her character, arguably the most important one is when she's spotted by the Wither Cult and is eventually pursued directly by White Eyes upon her finding out that Groda is still alive. Upon the (deadly) confrontation between White Eyes and the main 4 + Groda, she shows her truest colors:

After the dust settles, White Eyes is brought home much like the same way Groda once was (albeit unconscious this time around) and a way to free her of the Wither's influence will eventually be found. And though the mere sight of Groda brings her to a rage even now (very understandable), Groda takes some solace in the fact that she for once can think with 100% unbiased confidence that she did the right thing.

#minecraft #minecraft au #mc au #groda #ask #im obsessed!!! love Groda love talking abt her #she has a lot of nuance to her character #sorry i just realized this is So Much i wrote #i too forget time exists #minecraft au mastertag

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gumjrop · 1 day

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The Weather

As of September 13, 2024, national wastewater levels remain high. The CDC’s national wastewater map has contracted viral activity levels from ten grades of color to five grades of color while our map below maintains the original ten grades of color based on CDC data. We will adjust to the five grades in future reports. With schools in full session and the weather transitioning in northern regions to cooler temperatures, transmission continues to occur. Wastewater activity is either “High” or “Very High” in 37 states according to the Wastewater Surveillance System (NWSS) dashboard. Activity is “Moderate” in 8 states and the District of Columbia, and there is no data available for New Hampshire, North Dakota, Oregon, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and Guam.

According to the Wastewater COVID-19 National and Regional Trends dashboard, COVID wastewater levels have plateaued, remaining between high and very high in all regions except for the West, which is having a slight increase. The highest levels remain in the West as of 9/7/2024 (data captured on 9/13/2024).

In order to access local COVID wastewater levels, you can refer to the CDC’s state/territory trends page as well as the WastewaterSCAN dashboard. State and local public health wastewater trackers may also be available for example in Illinois, they are reporting over 80 locations. Also, the National Academies of Medicine recently published a second report stressing the importance of a robust wastewater surveillance system and its invaluable role in infectious disease surveillance. They recommend improving the consistency and quality of wastewater surveillance for COVID and other infectious diseases.

As of September 10, 2024, COVID levels are “likely growing” in 3 states and territories according to the CDC Center for Forecasting and Outbreak Analytics dashboard. Thirteen states have reached “stable or uncertain” levels, and 31 states are seeing “declining” or “likely declining”, while levels are “not estimated” in 4 states.

Note, this model utilizes emergency department visit data to estimate COVID transmission’s Rt, which is an estimate of the average number of new infections caused by each infectious person. An Rt greater than 1.0 indicates that infections are growing, while an Rt less than 1.0 indicates that they’re declining.

According to the CDC's COVID Data Tracker, there has been an increase to nearly 1,000 deaths and slightly more than 1,000 deaths per week from COVID during the entire month of August 2024. The last time this occurred was during the winter months of 2024. This total count of weekly COVID deaths is likely to be an underestimate due to limited COVID testing and reporting. The loss of these lives could have been prevented if layers of protections were consistently implemented in preventing infections.

A recent study published in the Annals of Internal Medicine highlights the importance of preventing infections especially during periods of high rates of transmission. It notes that COVID death rates were higher when healthcare systems faced a larger strain as a result of increased levels of transmission. Comprehensive policies that protect people and prevent healthcare-acquired COVID infections are needed to prevent healthcare system overload.

Variants

According to the CDC’s variant tracking dashboard, KP.3.1.1 remains the dominant variant of all currently circulating strains. Nowcast modeling projects that KP.3.1.1 will increase to 52.7% by 9/14/2024, followed by KP.2.3 at 12.2%, followed by LB.1 at 10.9%, and KP.3 at 10.6%, respectively. The most prevalent circulating variants are JN.1-derived, and closely related to both JN.1 and KP.2. Updated vaccination with any of the available options (Pfizer, Moderna, or Novavax) is recommended to better match current variants.

Vaccines and Treatment

Although the Bridge Access Program, covering the updated vaccines for uninsured and underinsured adults, has ended, several states including California’s Bridge Access Program and other departments of health have taken steps to partially address this major gap by either providing funding for no-cost access to COVID vaccines or using budgets to acquire a limited supply for their residents. Ultimately, the federal government must contribute resources to ensure no-cost access for all who are uninsured or underinsured. We continue to demand from the federal government to provide continued funding for the Bridge Access Program as well as the Vaccines for Adults Program. As people access the updated COVID vaccines, it is notable that a longer 1.5 inch needle may be needed for adults with higher body weights, in order to pass through subcutaneous tissue into muscle. Complete guidelines for vaccine administration in consideration of age, weight, and injection site can be found on the CDC's website.

It is important to seek treatment when facing a COVID infection. A recent study, reviewing population data of nonhospitalized individuals ages 18 and older during the period of January 2022 and December 2023, showed that nirmatrelvir/ritonavir (Paxlovid)—treatment for COVID—was less commonly used among those who identified as non-Hispanic Black and Latinx/e patients. Although the Test-to-Treat program prematurely ended, there continue to be programs available to ensure financial access to Paxlovid.

Wins

This is a reminder that another batch of no-cost COVID rapid antigen tests can be ordered and sent to your home address at the end of September 2024. Through the CDC’s Increasing Community Access to Testing (ICATT) program, no-cost access to COVID testing access is limited to those who are uninsured or underinsured at places including CVS, Walgreens, eTrueNorth, and other local sites as well as in New York City, which is supported by the NY Department of Public Health.

We are eagerly awaiting news on updates from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid on mandatory reporting of COVID infections in healthcare systems, which begins November 1 thanks to our community’s advocacy. It is invaluable that all healthcare systems participate as case data is paramount for keeping track with current COVID trends and understanding the volume of healthcare acquired COVID infections.

Take Action

The National Institute of Health (NIH) is seeking public comment and feedback on the next phase of RECOVER clinical trials, which focus on Long COVID. Meetings will be held virtually and on-site between September 23 and 25 to solicit feedback and comments. Register to attend these virtual or on-site sessions by September 25, 2024. It is very important to participate and ask NIH to commit to studies that will result in developing a better understanding of Long COVID, effective treatments for Long COVID, and key approaches to preventing Long COVID.

Amid ongoing COVID spread, masking in healthcare remains central to safe access to healthcare. As we await implementation of COVID hospitalization reporting and prepare for CDC’s next Healthcare Infection Control Practices Advisory Committee meeting in November, you can use this letter campaign to ask your elected officials to take action for healthcare masking.

And finally, because all of us need access to the updated COVID vaccines regardless of our insurance status or ability to pay, use our letter template to demand free COVID vaccines for uninsured and underinsured adults nationally.

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westerberg · 8 months

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Tagged by @52stations for these 15 q's thank u!!!

1. are you named after anyone

My grandma's name is Betty, & my mom wanted to name me after her but that's an awful name for a child, so I ended up Elizabeth. My mom also loveddddd Pride and Prejudice so I like to say I'm named after Elizabeth Bennett but it's only half true.

2. when was the last time you cried?

I came close earlier this week listening to Simon and Garfunkel The Boxer, but I couldn't tell you the last time I was seriously crying uncontrollably. It's like what Fiona Apple said...

3. do you have kids?

no......oh my god

4. what sports do you play/have played?

not really any. I briefly played tennis in middle school.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Ya.....💁‍♀️

6. what is the first thing you notice about people?

This is a hard question but I guess it would be how they choose to present themselves. Like if we're asking literally what do I notice FIRST I guess their clothes and how they cut/dye their hair etc.

7. what’s your eye colour?

🤎 Beautiful Brown 🤎

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Happy Endings bc i suck :D

9. any talents?

is writing a talent... squidward voice. or spending long periods of time in contemplative silence I'm really good at that. If i don't think about it too hard I can do a really good Marc Maron impression

10. where were you born?

Semi-rural Minnesota

11. what are your hobbies?

Reading, "working on my screenplay," listening to comedy podcasts, watching movies, journaling, going on long walks, painting.

12. do you have any pets?

A tiny little black kitty kat <3

13. how tall are you?

I haven't been officially measured in a while but I seem to be the same height or even a little taller than the 5'9" people I know so about 5'9"

14. favourite subject in school?

in high school it would've been history but if we count classes we took in college. Well one time in my weird cultural studies major I got to take a class on comedy in culture and I got to spew all of my opinions that I had clearly spent much more time thinking ab than all the other students and the prof loved me. I got a perfect score on an essay on cancel culture <3

15. dream job?

Late Show page who has sex with David Letterman but then gets kept on for the transition to Conan and then has sex with him too... just kidding. I'd like to write for television or movies or whatever

tagging @antiquesintheattic @sonic-fizz @milliondollarbash @sugarmountain @sexuallyvague 🍻🍻🍻

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tunaababee · 2 months

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20 Questions for Writers tag game!

gonna chuck this under a cut since it's gonna be lengthy!! thank you so much for the tag @popjunkie42 <3 <3 <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? eight! my one foray into DDADDS, a handful of Homestuck fics (notably Cats and Coffee, which i need to rewrite at some point!!) and 2 for acotar, though that number will be going up!!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 76,793!!

3. What fandoms do you write for? mainly acotar at the moment - i will probably dip my toes back into homestuck periodically though, it is where my roots lie!!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Strained (my one ddadds fic for a crackship) Cats and Coffee we will be everything we say Little Games Is It? (im pretty sure this was my first fic lmao)

5. Do you respond to comments? almost always, they make my day and mean so much!! if i don't reply im either busy and forgot bc my brain is like a sieve or happened to receive and influx and got overwhelmed!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? probably Breathe, which i wrote while having severely unmedicated depression and also being angry at how they shafted my fave character!!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? oh, hands DOWN wwbews. that is the fluffiest most tooth rotting ending and it was DELIBERATE!!!

8. Do you get hate on fics? im very lucky to have avoided anybody's ire, but i also love biting people on the internet sometimes and i am very liberal with my block button lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i think i would die a little bit if i couldnt write smut?? i mostly write relatively sappy, breeding-kink heavy stuff haha. i want to dip my toes into stuff thats a little more taboo though!! (*cough* ascendant astarion mind control *cough*)

10. Do you write crossovers? no, personally i like keeping stuff in its own little pockets!! mad shoutout to crossover writers though <3

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not as far as i'm aware!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no, but if anyone ever wanted to all they'd need to do is ask!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope, but i may have something in the works at some point soon 👀

14. What is your all-time favorite ship? no matter what, Karezi will always be my absolute ride or die, but Feysand is pretty fucking up there too!! i love most acotar ships, but in terms of homestuck ones, Arasol and Davejade are big faves too!!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? there's an old Homestuck wip i have deep in the folders called Glitter that i remember the vague direction of? but i know that one is not seeing the light of day, along with a barely fleshed out bandstuck au haha. im determined to make my acotar ideas/wips see the world at some point though!!

16. What are your writing strengths? mm hard to say? i'm very pessimistic/negative about me and my work by nature, so it's difficult to say with honesty, but i like to think i convey emotion and inner thoughts decently well! i also think my dialogue is relatively grounded for the most part?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? so many. i struggle with writing out of order, so when i get stuck on something i get STUCK. i have a tendency to repeat names a lot, i struggle with scene transitions and when to call a scene done. i'm also either always going way too over the top or way too underwritten, i struggle with finding a good middle! there are probably many more i could think of but i don't wanna get too in the weeds.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i haven't used other languages as far as i can recall? if i ever do i would try and get a native speaker to give it a read over, but otherwise i am afraid our old beloathed google translate would be carrying my ass.

19. First fandom you wrote for? that i published on the internet??? Homestuck. things that never saw the light of day?? shit man, i couldn't tell you. i've been thinking about cool things my blorbos could do since i was a kid.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? very biased, but wwbews. i genuinely think its some of my best work, my first ever completed longfic and i put so much time and love into it!!!

---

tags, if you're feeling like it!! @reverie-tales @starfall-spirit @shardminds @damedechance @cauldronblssd @climbthemountain2020 <3

#long post #tag game #no pressure if ur not feeling it!!

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cafeinthemoon · 1 year

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Ruins - Part XIV

Chapter 14

Wordcount 2,9k

Title Part XIV

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Somehow I feel this one is more of a chapter of transition, a calm passage between two important points of the story: the party when everything is settled and the future of Hades and reader's relationship. There are no great changes or events in it, if you don't count the curious revelation on Loki's part, but I hope you like it :)

Both gods and humans agreed that the party of that year was memorable, so much that it was the main subject of the conversations for days after.

Since the guardianship period didn’t end with it, the gods and goddesses stood in the company of their students for the subsequent weeks, while the ones who adopted pupils at the night of the presentations started their work right after it, and the ones who didn’t become instructors left a few days later.

Hades’ brothers, who basically came to meet the woman about whom he talked, didn’t stay for the same amount of time: Poseidon, despite treating you with politeness, didn’t hold great affection for humans, having no reason to stay longer than necessary and leaving Valhalla in the next day, but not before talking briefly with his elder brother and stating that he would come back in a matter of months, for his presence would be requested only then; Zeus, who had some juridical matters to discuss with the Nordic head, stood for two weeks, but you rarely saw him during this time; Adamas, on the other hand, decided to stay for an entire month enjoying the delights of the blessed lands, and during this period you had some cheerful interactions, most of them supervised by Hades, who didn’t hide his contentment with such friendship: his second brother sort of adopted you as a little sister, thus being the responsible for you to feel like you were part of the family. Finally, he had to go to Hellheim in order to replace Hades in the practical aspects since the King would stay away from his domains for a couple of months. You were a bit sad when he said his farewell, but you were content to know that he would come back soon.

Now, among the deities who stood for longer, there was one whose presence wasn’t exactly good news to you: Loki, who wouldn’t leave until Odin-sama decided it was time to return to Asgard. You still didn’t forgive him completely for the episode at the balcony, but chose not to speak about it anymore; to your surprise, Loki did the same, but he would take any chances to play little tricks on you when Hades and Adamas weren’t around. None of them were as unpleasant as the one of the goblet, being limited to attempts to scare you by appearing suddenly in your way in the form of animals, statues or objects, but you somehow learned to recognize him moments before his transformations. Still, the game continued to be funny to the god, who was determined to have you as his main target – or, in his words, “as my new favorite friend”.

At first, you tried to get rid of him, but it didn’t take long for you to understand that getting rid of someone like Loki was an impossible task, so you just endured the situation. But, after some time, you found in yourself some patience to deal with him: you noticed that, even among his Nordic partners, Loki was a bit of a solitary god, more because his nature was youthful if compared to their stern manners than because of his tricks and jokes. Besides, if your supposition that he was around the same age as Hermes was correct, he must belong to the small group of young gods there, getting easily bored around the elders. The presence of many young girls, to whom anything from the gods’ land was a novelty, might have excited him, so he would divide his free time between you and the others – a routine that didn’t please Hermes, who saw his work become twice as hard now that he had to watch the girls from even closer. Finally, being his heart a mystery even to other gods, he never talked to you about it, but you started to think that he was actually cheering with the perspective of seeing a new goddess being born, something that doesn’t happen everyday, which would explain his “obsession” with you.

One day before the Nordic pantheon finally left Valhalla, you had a brief conversation at the Gardens, in which the god of Mischief found a new way to surprise you.

You somehow were talking about Hades’ enigma, and Loki was now stating that, despite being poetic just like a good enigma should be, it wasn’t really difficult.

– Hades-sama is really good with his words – he was saying – But he kept it too easy, you know? He really wanted you to solve it.

In other times, you would find yourself offended by it, as a suggestion that Hades was insulting your intelligence, but now you were just curious.

– Perhaps – you shrugged – But I really don’t care. I enjoyed working on it – and, turning directly to him, – But how long would you take to solve it, Loki-sama?

There was a statue of a woman sitting on a stone beside you. Loki was on her lap, with his legs crossed, the moment he replied to you.

– Less time than you, of course – he grinned.

– But wouldn’t it kill the diversion?

– What?

You had a narcissus in your hands. You twirled it by holding the stem between your fingers.

– I know I took too long to figure out everything, and only did it in time because of a random accident, but I had a good time in the process. I believe this is more important – you smiled to yourself – I feel like I became another person after solving it, and I have no desire to come back to what I was before. And, in my opinion, we shouldn’t even want to come back.

Loki frowned, but agreed.

– I suppose you’re right – he sighed, his feet dangling on your peripheral sight as he spoke –You know what? When I saw you for the first time, I thought you were just a cute, simple girl, but I started to change my mind when I talked to you. You’re a really interesting creature, y/n-chan.

Now, you were the one who frowned. What did he mean with “saw you for the first time”? Did he see you before the episode of the serpent?

– I don’t understand. When did you...?

– Ah, don’t you remember? – he seemed to be enjoying each second of your surprise – I thought you were the type who recognizes a fake when you see one.

– I…

– Hm… Shortly after entering the ball room, you went to a table and started observing the names of the seats. Then, an elf woman came to offer her help, presenting you the very seat you were occupying at the table. Do you remember her? – and, more to himself than to you, – I could swear we have the same eyes...

You held your breath. You remembered the beautiful elven maid with red hair who came to guide you through the table, and who told you that your name was settled between Hades’ and Zeus’ as a request from the first one. So, that woman was actually Loki?

– It was you, then… – you murmured the obvious.

The god created the same crown of yellow flowers the elf wore and put it on his own head, then started moving on the statue’s lap, cheering: he had no scruples in seeking for attention and compliments.

– Are you impressed, y/n-chan? – he asked, clearly waiting for a response.

You sighed. If he was going to leave Valhalla and soon stop testing you, there was really no reason for you to deny something so silly, but apparently so important to him.

You opened your best smile to reply:

– I am. It was really impressive – you shrugged – And, to be honest, that disguise was much better than the white snake.

Loki's cheeks got red when he heard that.

– Really? Do you think so?

– Yes – you replied with sincerity – I really liked it.

Loki’s eyes glowed up with the confirmation, and for a moment you thought he was going to cry. You thought his reaction was too emotional – too honest – for someone whose first instinct was to hide his true disposition, but the thing was that observations about his abilities were a sensitive matter to him, given that he didn’t always get recognition for his talents among other gods.

In the end, your case with him had a more peaceful ending that you thought to be possible, and when the Nordic group finally left the blessed lands, Loki seemed so sad for separating from you that you got worried.

Is it just me or was he really developing a crush on me?

***

During the next months in Valhalla, you lived what looked like a dream.

You spent a good amount of your time alone, but sometimes you appreciated the company of the girls. There was a curious change in how you were seen by them: some who were among the first to find guardians and haven’t built a close friendship with you were now willing to treat you as an acquaintance; you, on the other hand, preferred to seek the company of the others who, just like you, took longer to find their place there. These ones, you sensed it, were really happy for you, and wouldn’t hesitate in drowning you with questions about your future and how “dating a god”, as they used to say, felt like; you were willing to answer them as best as you could, but there were some things you were yet to discover, and others that you’d rather keep to yourself.

Your most recurrent contact, however, was with Hades, who would be there until the time for him to leave the world of the living would come – and the time for you to decide if you would go with him or not.

Since the King of Hellheim was now playing a role similar to that of an instructor, your routine was now organized primarily by him: you continued your studies at the Library, but now they were directed to themes related to the Underworld, the destiny of souls and many other metaphysical themes. Just like the researching sessions you’ve been doing by yourself, those lessons used to take entire afternoons, during which you would discuss every subject in each possible detail, as you would listen to his explanations with a mixture of curiosity and fascination, taking so many notes that Hermes had to get you a new notebook after a few weeks.

During those days, you and Hades became the closest friends. Communication between you were free and constant, and it didn’t take long until it became your favorite part of the day. Because of the countless ages during which he has been alive, Hades knew stories about many places and many people, some of them long gone, others still existing by the time you were born; you loved sitting by his side and listening in awe as he described the appearance, personality and principles of men and women whose names were now part of History, the difficulties and rewards of their journeys and the lands they walked on, all of this in the god’s soothing voice and wise choice of words that made you feel like part of those adventures. By the end of the stories, you would discuss what you would do exactly like the heroes and what you would avoid, and ask many questions about details that Hades forgot or didn’t have time to explain.

During those conversations, you also had opportunities to reveal many things about your life as a human to him. You told him that you lived in the same house you were born with your parents, your sisters, Luna and Helena, and a niece, Ellie, who was still a toddler; this latter was actually daughter of your elder sister, Nora, who passed away months after the girl came to the world, so now she was raised as one of your own and you were now the eldest girl of the family, with Luna being fifteen years old and Helena twelve. Despite your city being considered small, it was a port city, so that you used to meet all kinds of people in its streets while you worked alongside your mother, and in your school there were kids who would present themselves as workers of the ships and would stay as temporary students, taking lessons for a few days or a few weeks until they left the town with their ships. Your homeland was a fantastic place to live, as much as a dangerous one, where things were never the same except for the ones who stood in it like you. It was funny that, no matter how trivial, ordinary the events you told him seemed to be (at least in your eyes), Hades would pay close attention to each sentence with utter interest; at first, you thought that, for someone with his knowledge, he was exaggerating in this, but as time passed you understood that it was the first time in his life that he became so close to a human and found yourself more and more comfortable in your narratives: he was perhaps the most attentive listener you’ve ever had, and that was good thing.

You two discovered many things in common, such a deep interest in History, arts, literature, philosophy and the mysteries of the mind, and would have much fun exchanging books at the Library, inventing games and sharing opinions on the things you’ve learned, but you also had significant differences, for example, while Hades had a great understanding of politics and laws, you were just crawling on these subjects, having to be told everything from the basics. But not all divergences between you were this big: some were simple, even funny, such as his passion for crafting (well seen in the hairpin he created for you) and your complete lack of talent for it: he even tried to teach you some techniques, but after a few attempts you both decided that, for the sake of your relationship, you should stop there. After some days, however, you realized that your struggling in this sense derived from your inability of make use of already existent tools, with no possibility of alterations or spontaneous creation, so there might be some hope for you in the future.

In the meantime, you paid a visit to Valhalla’s Greenhouse and discovered a new hobby, one that you would never have the chance to develop in your homeland: botany. You fell in love with the study of flowers and plants, and the possibility of creating new ones, with unique characteristics, using the science of the gods, quickly became a passion, so that your free time were now spent mostly among the greenhouse’s experiments. Hades used to make you company during those hours, and observed your activities with a smile. One day, when you asked him why he seemed so satisfied in observing while you worked, he just replied that witnessing one’s love for a study field was always satisfying; you didn’t continue that conversation, but you had the sensation that he caught a glimpse of your future in it.

***

There was a morning when you were together at the Secret Garden, resting under the pomegranate tree after having your breakfast there. Hades had his back on the tree’s trunk while you were on his lap, making a crown with some flowers you managed to grow the last days, as the empty plates were left beside you upon a cloth.

You were talking about a book you just finished reading, and you stated that the antagonist reminded you of Loki.

Hades seemed surprised with this observation.

– Really? But to which aspect of Loki’s personality you’re referring to? Because, you see, he’s more than what you had the chance to observe during his short stay here.

You smiled while your fingers braided the hems of two flowers together: you already had half of the crown finished.

– The part of him that unconsciously seeks for people’s attention – you explained – Even if he has to get it through negative ways.

– It’s probably his most prominent trait – Hades commented – Most of the times, it is inoffensive, but he can cause great damage when he’s really invested.

– I see – you took another flower to braid with the crown – Just like the book’s character, that’s certainly an irritating trait, but I think it couldn’t be any different. Being the god of Mischief, this must be the only way of living known to him.

– And do you think it’s limiting him? Because he doesn’t see that way.

– No – your hands stopped working for a moment – I just think it’s sad.

You saw Hades taking one of the flowers on your lap, then felt his fingers brushing your hair before placing the flower in them, behind your ear.

– You know, I could say I don’t enjoy seeing your moods shaken by someone who’s now miles away from us, or tell you to not feel so deeply sorry for him – he gave you the same sad smile you saw at the party, when you talked at the balcony after Loki’s provocation – But I know it would be useless because, apparently, that’s how your heart works. It’s a rarity to see such thing, and it only makes it more beautiful.

After feeling your cheeks warming up at this, your response was to take a flower and repeat Hades’ gesture, leaving it behind his ear to match your own.

– I wish I could be harder in my judgments, but I just can’t – you smiled – Still, if you think it’s beautiful to be like this, then I guess I can be satisfied.

Part XV

#snv x reader #ror x reader #hades x reader #ror hades x reader #snv hades x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie loki #record of ragnarok loki

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