#at this point i’m definitely going to make it to 200. but i’m tempted to keep going after that lmao

[kbergceramics]

freshly made wizards! total headcount: 170

[stormxpadme]

​Whumptober 2022 No. 5 - Running Out of Air

2002

"'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here' ... Yeah, no, forget it, I'm not going in there."

Marie took a few demonstrative steps from the tunnel Remy had chosen as an entry point for this little forbidden night trip to the famous city catacombs. Not even waist-high, dusty, the ground covered in dust and bones and other things she did not want to take a closer look at … Especially not after reading that charming warning inscribed in blood red letters onto the moldy stone tiles.

  Her overly adventurous boyfriend of course had no qualms of that kind. Switching on his headlight, he cowered down in front of the entrance, eyeing the not exactly appealing obstacles on the way to some allegedly far more interesting sights than the guided tours with excited anticipation. "Perfect. There's still some left since I was here last. We can take a couple of them home. Those sell for a fortune online. You ready, chère?" When Marie wordlessly pointed at the worrisome markings again, he threw his head back with a laugh and reached out his hand to her. "Come on. That's just some Halloween jump scare to keep grave robbers away."

  "And look how well it works," Marie commented dryly when Remy actually filled the huge backpack he'd brought with a couple of those skulls and other bones. "I'm not going. These are actual human remains, I'm not touching that. Besides, it's dark in there." She rolled her eyes dramatically when Remy straightened up again and turned on the strong lamp she was wearing on her own helmet personally. "Very cute. What if we get lost?"

  "Remy's got a map." Remy hooked the two of his fingers covered by his gloves around hers and pulled her downwards with him this time, gently enough to let go immediately if she should feel like putting up some real resistance instead of trying to only gather her courage for this whole madness still. It had sounded cool in the beginning, sure, something just as exciting as everything her partner had shown her in these beautiful weeks all across the most beautiful spots of Africa and Europe. But the lines between adrenaline and a couple of broken bones in Remy's case more often than not were alarmingly thin.

  Marie didn't give shit that what they doing here was illegal – half of what they were doing for a living in Westchester only worked because the X-Men saw certain laws more as guidelines. Wondering if certain security regulations regarding almost 200 miles of not exactly stable underground tunnels maybe existed for good reason was what put that restless flutter in her stomach. Not feeling like they were really well prepared for this trip didn't help. "You don't."

  "In here, oui." Her lover tapped his forehead with a free fingertip, still unimpressed. "Remy was in there a thousand times when he lived here. Well, 20 times, at least."

  "There could be animals in there." There were, definitely, and Marie wasn't usually squeamish about them. If she didn't happen to wade through hundreds of their nests, that was, without even being able to make out what it was, scurrying all over her skin.

  "They're more afraid of you than you are. And if we get ourselves really dirty tonight? Perfect excuse for a spa day tomorrow."

  "Ugh, fine." Somehow, that guy always knew how to tempt her. Resting for a couple of hours for a change instead of exploring nonstop, in that luxurious, exceptionally mutant-friendly little hotel right outside the city that Marie wasn't exactly sure how Remy had found or could finance but honestly couldn't care less … That sounded like a perfect idea to start saying goodbye to these wonderful weeks far from all duties, depression, and issues at home. Apart from a twinge of homesickness … Well, none of their teammates had said anything in their e-mails or occasional brief calls but Scott didn't exactly need to, to remind one of certain duties the others at Mutant High were quite alone with right now. No matter how much Remy and Marie had needed this time off after the shit show that had been the last two years, it was time to start adulting again. Maybe enjoying one or two more adventures before that wasn't the worst of ideas. It wasn't even that bad once they'd started crawling. The ground was surprisingly solid if you stayed on your knees and lower arms and kept your head up. Their lamps were strong enough to not run into any unpleasant surprises, and though Marie would of course never admit it out loud because that guy had enough of an ego already … Staring at her boyfriend's ass in tight jeans from up close for a couple of minutes or so wasn't exactly a punishment.

  The creepy shit started when they reached the almost entirely dark chamber behind that tunnel where what Remy had called the under-underground life was taking place. The walls were full of occult sprayed symbols wherever they shone their lights. In some corners, there were dozens of syringes happily rotting away. And from some room miles away Marie could swear she could hear an eerily off-key choir singing in Latin.

  "Charming. I'll give it an extra star on our travel blog for creativity. Can we go back now?"

  "Oh, but chère, we haven't even started yet." Remy enthusiastically waved her over to where he'd kicked a couple of rocks away from an even narrower-looking tunnel, steeply declining by the looks of it, meaning it was leading even deeper into the ground. "It's not far, promise," he assured at Marie's doubtful grimace. "This is where the good stuff starts. Dozens of unexplored passages. If we're lucky, we'll find something really valuable. It's safe, chère. Those walls are all stable."

  "You owe me a huge breakfast tomorrow." Shuddering, Marie followed her lover into that new pit too. It should probably worry her that this wasn't by far the weirdest or most dangerous thing she'd ever got up to since she'd mutated, and before even turning 20.

  They were almost through that second tunnel when it happened. One moment, they were busy digging their way through more remains and puffing away spider webs from their faces, coughing every now and then because the usually fairly breathable air in these tunnels seemed to weigh heavier on their lungs the deeper they went … In the next second, their ears were ringing from a huge bang and some bright light somewhere in their backs, the heat of flames following their path almost close enough to touch, followed by the ground shaking and crumbling around them.

  Remy, fortunately, had made it to the other end of the tunnel already and reacted with the lifelong trained instincts of a pickpocket, wrapping his arms around Marie's shoulders when she screamed out, freezing in confusion and shock for a moment, to pull her out of the passage with one harsh movement before the tunnel could collapse on her.

  "What the fuck?" She could hear her own voice a nuance too shrill and too loud in spite of the ringing in her ears when she'd caught her breath and scrambled to get up from where she'd come to lay so nice and soft on a certain muscular chest, which at least had spared her some bruises … But given they'd only just barely escaped death and their way back to the surface had just been blocked completely with a solid mixture of concrete and rock, that was only a small consolation. "What was that? Are they doing blastings down here? I thought you said the authorities don't know this area!"

  "They don't." Remy sat up with gritted teeth, his deeply tanned skin suddenly looking a whole lot paler in the headlight which probably wasn't just thanks to a thick layer of ash and dust, his hand rubbing over his side where he'd fallen onto some pointy piece of rock. "And they don't just blast something for fun down here. The city's underground is unstable enough. Whoever that was, that was private business."

  "But why?" Unfortunately, Marie had a feeling she already knew the answer and didn't like it one bit. Quickly searching the room they'd ended up in and finding that every single passage and tunnel leading away from it and towards a possible other exit had been blocked with massive barricades as well, wiped out the last doubts. That explained why the air down here was so bad … and would only get worse now with the last vent closed.

  "I think we pissed off a couple of people, chère." More than just a touch of bad conscience about persuading her to come here was marking Remy's suddenly very sharp, unusually somber expression. His red and black eyes kept on darting over the closed exits, his hands agitated fists by his sides.

  "Then we should give them a matching answer." Her own jaw working in irritation, Marie nodded down on the chest pocket of Remy's shirt where she always knew one of his deck of cards to be on him. With the help of her lover's kinetic powers, it shouldn't be much of an issue, to get back to the surface. And then they'd cut these assholes for good that they'd try to track down as a little side job for their boss on their holiday in the last few days.

  It had been only a vague trail; Scott hadn't even been sure they weren't chasing cold leads here in this city of romance and beauty of all places. It had rather been a suggestion to keep their eyes open for possible hideouts of these fanatic bastards who had taken one of their closest friends from them last year. Apparently, the boss man had once more proven good instincts.

  A sense of danger a little too accurate, maybe, as Remy's hesitative shake of his head made Marie realize. "Remy can't just start making holes in here, chère. I don't know what they did to the other tunnels and rooms, what's behind those barricades. And I don't like the look of that." He nodded upwards to the low ceiling that showed indeed a frighteningly deep crack or two. "Those weren't here when I saw this last. They're probably from that blast just now. I'd hate to add even more vibration to that blindly. One wrong explosion, and …" And. He didn't need to finish. The way he even started to forget to talk about himself in the third person occasionally and even more, the way his hand clenched around his thigh for a moment, the spot right below his loins where flesh met technology, said enough. Neither of them had made particularly good experiences with falling rocks.

  Marie closed her eyes for a moment and leaned back against one of the walls with crossed arms, trying her best not to let that slowly rising choke of panic in her throat take over. They'd been in worse dumpsters. They'd think of something. "Well, we won't have much time to sit around and make out if that's what you're suggesting."

  The shallow joke at least put half a grin back on her lover's beautiful broad lips. "It won't be long. Someone will come to find us."

  That sounded almost a little too certain for the fact that they hadn't even told anyone at home what they were up to, out of the not unjustified fear that Scott would personally have flown the Blackbird here immediately, arm temporarily out of commission or not, to drag them back to Westchester before they got any more stupid ideas. "No one's looking." Marie's confusion only grew when she turned her gaze towards her lover again, still busy rubbing the growing shivers of both the coldness down here and growing unease from her arms. She was pretty sure that was a blush on his high cheekbones. "What?"

  "This is the off-limits catacombs, chère. You never go off limits without backup." Remy grinned sheepishly, ducking his head when he told her in brief words about some old friend of his in the city he'd given their entry location and their estimated time of return to. Interesting. Apparently, living under the leadership of a walking rulebook and with a sharp-clawed male governess on their team, reminding Remy every now and then what would happen if he didn't look out for Marie properly, had started to take effect.

  Marie called herself stupid for her mistrust and annoyance earlier and gave her lover a grateful hug for his foresightedness. "What do you think, when will she come?"

  "Not entirely sure," he admitted, still remarkably contrite, burying his hand in her hair to pull her close to his shoulder when he felt her shake. "When she finds the barriers, she'll have to come back with a crew and tools. Midday tomorrow, probably, until they get to us."

  Marie wrapped her arms around his strong waist only tighter, clenching her teeth against the new wave of worry that tried to take hold of her. Not exactly fear yet; she'd faced far too many more dire situations for that since being part of that plenty fucked up team of freaks in Westchester. But the brief moment of hope had already turned into that uncomfortable tremor in her body again. ."We'll run out of air, Remy."

  "Down here, that doesn't happen that fast." It didn't sound entirely convinced, but he did his best to smile for her, gloved fingertips softly caressing her face, brushing back the dirtied strands of white that had slipped from her braid. "If we do get too much trouble breathing though, then I'll try the cards. Promise."

  With a reluctant growl, Marie sat down on the floor. That would hide at least that her knees were still a little unsteady. "Alright then. Still, no making out though. Pretty sure none of us had Formicophilia on their kink list."

  Remy didn't sit down, and he didn't even laugh at the stupid innuendo out of politeness. It looked untypically tense, the way he buried his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, biting his lip, then spitting out with a grimace because they'd both swallowed quite a bit of dust. "Look, I … I shouldn't have brought you …"

  "If you don't want me to ruin your other leg, you don't finish that sentence." Marie pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh. One thing that these damn last two years really had robbed her of was her patience with needless feelings of guilt. "Because if you suddenly think I'm not old enough to make my own choices, they're not entirely wrong about you robbing the cradle with me, you know."

  "Just saying, sometimes you'd be making better ones without me." He joined her with an unnerved sigh only aimed at himself, for now without touching her because he knew that angry glistening in her eyes well enough after all these months.

  "Like what? Drinking, drugs, webcam porn? Because that's what I would get up to sooner or later if I didn't have you to give my life joy."

  This time, the blush was deeper and not that awkward anymore. "I'll make it up to you anyway."

  "One more day at Disneyland before we go home. Your bill." Remy's relieved smile, in spite of his not exactly exaggerated love for repeat performances, automatically had Marie smile back and reach for his hand, something she sometimes still actively needed to remind herself of, even with the necessary caution. She wanted him to feel, not only hear, that there was nothing he should be blaming himself for and that it hadn't just been an offhand remark but a solid plan – of course, they would get out of here. They hadn't made it back from fucking space just to choke on some bone particles now. For a while, they didn't talk much, because air was a precious resource to conserve right now. Only when they both were getting a little too tired for comfort from that growing dizziness in their limbs and heads, Marie forced herself to get up again, shake her arms and legs, and crack her neck a little to not allow such dangerous weakness. They still had time, she thought, though not as much as they'd hoped maybe … But if they'd slipped and actually gave in to exhaustion now, Remy's friend and her gang would only find two very messy bodies to retrieve tomorrow. And Marie wasn't even wearing a nice set of underwear for the mortician. "That girl … Was she your client?" she finally asked just to say something because Remy was still too quiet and still for her taste, and maybe also because she really was curious.

  Her lover's past had never been of any concern to her, neither his former jobs nor whom he'd done some aspects of them with, how and how often. But there was something in the way Remy had pronounced that woman's name earlier … A very soft, very gentle kind of tone without any mirth that he usually reserved for Marie’s own pet name. After a suspicious look into her eyes to make sure there was no threatening thunder on the horizon, Remy allowed that short but very amicable smile back on his lips. "No. I was hers." Oh. That made sense. He'd been young in that brief period when he'd lived here, but not too young not to be curious, and if Marie remembered the rare information bits about the not PG-rated part of Remy's street business right, that had been quite some time before he'd started that very special kind of information and power trade of his own. Marie couldn't help but wonder, from that slightly detached, wistful look in her lover's eyes, if that occasion with that woman he was obviously recalling there in his mind had been one of these sobering experiences that had later helped him take such a practical, no-nonsense approach to this job himself.

  "She meant more to you, didn't she?"

  "We were both living in the street at that time. Anyone you protect with your life and vice versa means something more to you." Remy had fumbled out his card deck at some point in the last few minutes and tapped two Queen of Hearts together in an unnervingly uneven rhythm, small pink sparks echoing through the heavier growing air.

  Marie sat back down in front of him this time, crossing her arms on his knees and resting her chin on it, feeling the tiny little vibrations in his left thigh from restlessly working artificial muscles without surprise. "I don't like it when you lie to me, LeBeau. Especially when there's no reason to."

  "I wish I wouldn't have bought her when we first met, that's all. I didn't know at the time but she wasn't in voluntarily." Remy gratefully nuzzled against Marie's hand when she softly rested it against his cheek, her sleeve tugged forward to protect him from the hurtful effects of her skin.

  "If she didn't tell you, it's not your fault."

  "You don't go home with people who don't really want to. It's the most important code in this line of work." A kind of aggression sounded through his bright voice now not only aimed at himself, that Marie didn't hear for the first time when it came to that subject. That Remy didn't regret how he'd made the kind of living he had wanted to have back then didn't mean he ignored how many in his former business weren't given that choice in the first place. Or how difficult it was, trying to change something about those conditions.

  As much as Marie understood how bad he must be feeling for unwillingly becoming one of those people actively supporting these kinds of schemes, there was something very important he was overlooking. "You're one of probably a thousand clients who actually care that deeply about consent, Remy. Does that not count for anything?"

  "I guess …" He let out a deep sigh and breathed one of these quick kisses to one of her bare fingertips that were harmless for him, thanking her for something that had always been just as natural for her as it was for him, talking about this part of his past with people he knew he could trust. "I just wish I would ever have apologized."

  "You know, for some things, it's never too late." Scooting close to her partner again, Marie gladly snuggled under his muscular arm around her shoulder and asked him to show her one of his tricks that she never remembered how to do. She only got around to messing it up two times before Remy suddenly dropped the rest of the cards and Marie let out quite an undignified shriek because on the floor right in front of them, a bright, huge disc of light appeared.

  Through it, the shapes of two young women emerged, one of which Marie at least knew from a couple of pictures in the X-Men network, not to mention from the similarities of that girl with the thick blonde bangs with a certain former Russian housemate of hers. "Yana? How …?"

  "Principal Summers called Piotr. When he told me, I phased here immediately." The teenager eyed them both from head to toe, apparently quite amused by their less than proper appearance, while the brunette by her side stayed silent, only regarding Remy with a small headshake and a roll of her big dark eyes that admittedly, he deserved today.

  "Excuse-moi, boss man did what?" Remy was already feeling high-spirited enough again to be extremely hurt in his pride about certain people not trusting him a lot.

  Illyana shrugged. "He had an eye on your coms. When the signals were gone, Piotr sent me to where they were on the radar last. Which is where we met. Your old mole buddy here had a pretty good idea where exactly to find you." She nodded at the young woman next to her. "So, what do you guys say? Wanna get out of here? Or were you just waiting for the right moment to propose, LeBeau?"

  "Not funny." That very interesting color was back on Remy's cheeks that had Marie make a mental note about checking his pockets for any suspicious boxes from jewelers tomorrow, just to be on the safe side, because sometimes, her insane Cajun came up with what was really the weirdest ideas. "Thanks, though. I owe you guys." Once Illyana had phased them all back out to the surface through another disk, into a quiet side alley, Remy hugged the two young women enthusiastically whereupon he definitely lingered a moment too long at the taller, petite shape of his old friend, keeping her close with his hand firmly placed on her shoulder before she could possibly flee back into the shadows as quickly as she had appeared. "Remy likes to pay his dues swiftly. You two like Disneyland?"

  It turned out, they all did.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[marcussenhohflowers]

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Safe

A Danse and Nora fic.

[Read on AO3]

-----------

“It’s eerie how well preserved this area is,” Paladin Danse said, as the elevator cage opened to reveal the silent Vault 111 in front of him.

“That was kind of the whole point, Danse,” Nora said, smiling over at him. “If they could preserve me this well for 200 years, it only makes sense that the metal walls held up too.”

“They preserved you wonderfully,” Danse agreed with a nod.

“Is that a line?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the Paladin and making a slight blush rise in his stubbly cheeks.

“I… of course not,” Danse fumbled. “I just meant, from a medical standpoint, what they were able to achieve in this vault was… impressive.” Danse let his words trail off towards the end of his sentence, finding that he was only making things worse.

“Relax, Paladin,” Nora said, her grin still in place. “I was only joking.”

“Of course,” Danse said, trying to sound confident even though he still felt flustered. “I knew that.”

The way Nora gave him a short nod and held back a laugh before walking further into the vault told him that she knew he was lying. He appreciated that she didn’t state this outright.

Danse followed behind the vault dweller in silence. Or, in as much silence as he could manage when the sound of his power armor reverberated off the walls so loudly.

“The gun should be right through here,” Nora said, leading Danse through the halls of Vault 111 expertly. “I saw it when I first… woke up in here. But I wasn’t as familiar with lockpicking back then.”

“You’ve definitely honed that skill since wandering the Wasteland,” Danse agreed, giving her the smallest ghost of a smile.

He admired Nora for so many reasons. Her lockpicking skill was just one of the many ways she’d adapted to an impossible situation after waking up to a world she didn’t recognize.

She’d lost her son. She’d lost her husband. And yet, Danse had never seen her show the people of the Commonwealth anything but kindness. He didn’t know such people still existed in the world. Meeting her had shifted his perspective on a lot of things.

“If I can get the lock open, will you check out the gun to see if it’s something that might be useful for us?” Nora asked, shaking Danse from his internal musings.

“Of course,” he answered.

Nora led him to a small room within the vault and quickly began working on the locked glass case that held the gun.

“It’s called a Cryolator,” Nora explained, puckering her lips as she moved the bobby pin and screwdriver in such small subtle ways that Danse could hardly tell she was moving them at all. “From what I read on the terminals when I first woke up here, the Overseer of the vault made it as a way to pass time. It’s supposed to freeze enemies.”

“That definitely sounds like a unique weapon to have in your arsenal.

Nora nodded but didn’t say anything. She was focused on the lock in front of her, still trying to crack it as Danse watched her.

In this moment, with her full attention taken up by something else, Danse allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence. He watched the way her brown hair fell out of its bun in small wispy strands. He saw the freckles on her cheeks that she swore she didn’t have before leaving the vault. He studied the way her vault suit fit her a little too perfectly, which had been one of the reasons he’d tried to convince her to trade it in for a Brotherhood suit.

Her pink lips were still puckered as her long fingers worked at the lock.

Danse swallowed hard, realizing that he shouldn’t be staring at his partner this way.

“Bingo!” Nora said, standing aside with a triumphant smile.

“Outstanding, soldier,” Danse said, hating the way his voice sounded ever-so-slightly off after studying her so closely.

“Have at it, partner,” Nora said, gesturing to the gun and standing aside.

The Cryolator was definitely something Sanctuary could use to keep the settlement well-defended. And as Danse studied the weapon, he imagined the various ways it could be used to ward off Raiders.

“You really do wonderful work, soldier. Have I told you that lately?” Danse asked, turning around to find that he was alone. “Nora?”

Feeling his pulse pick up a few paces, he left the small room and began making his way through the halls of Vault 111.

What if something had happened to her? What if Raiders had been camping out inside the vault and they’d somehow missed them on the way in?

It wasn’t until Danse entered a cold room full of large metal containers that he found his partner. She was standing in front of one of the pods with an expression he couldn’t read. When Danse approached and curiously looked at the frozen man behind the glass, his brain made the connection.

This had to be Nate. This had to be the man Nora had loved. The man she’d built a life with, only to have it all stripped away in mere seconds.

He looked from the man in the pod to Nora, watching the way her jaw tightened as she stared at her spouse. She didn’t let any tears fall, though Danse wouldn't have faulted her if she did.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her at a moment like this. He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to grieve however she wanted. He wanted to make this better for her. But he was at a loss.

“Take all the time you need, soldier,” he said, because what else could he really say?

“I’m fine,” Nora replied, taking a deep breath, turning on her heel, and walking quickly away from the room.

Danse barely had time to register what had happened before she disappeared completely.

He could hear the sound of the vault elevator in the distance as it brought Nora back up to the surface.

She probably needs a few moments alone, he thought to himself, looking back at the lifeless form of the man Nora had loved. The one she had trusted.

His heart ached for her.

Danse waited a while before making his way back to the vault elevator, not wanting to impose on Nora’s private moment the way he accidentally had when he’d clomped into the cryochamber. But to his surprise, Nora wasn’t waiting for him on the surface.

She probably went back to Sanctuary.

He wasn’t sure if this was true, but he hoped it was. Any time he lost sight of Nora, he began to feel a panic take over his heart. He’d had a lot of partners and lost a lot of partners. But he’d never worried so much over someone in his life.

Nora had proven herself a capable soldier in the field. Despite her kindness and her tenderness, she could also be tough. She was a walking contradiction wrapped up in a blue and gold vault suit. Danse didn’t have to worry about her being safe on her own.

And yet, he did.

The sound of Danse’s power armor tromping through the dirt was anything but stealthy, but he didn’t care about being quiet at the moment. He only cared about finding Nora and making sure she was okay.

Walking through the streets of Sanctuary, Danse found the first settler he could, even though he wasn’t exactly happy with who it was.

“Have you seen Nora?” he asked the ghoul in front of him.

“Wait… are you actually asking me, a lowly ghoul, for help?” Hancock asked, his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

The Paladin knew the ghoul was pushing his buttons on purpose. And in the back of his mind, he knew he deserved it. But that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell Danse’s rage.

“Listen to me, you…”

“Careful Danse, if you get too worked up, your power armor might rust and you’ll be stuck in there forever,” Deacon said, stepping up beside Hancock with a matching smile.

Of course it had to be Deacon.

If there was one person who liked to get under Danse’s skin more than Hancock, it was Deacon.

Danse clenched his jaw tightly, to try to keep his temper from flaring up. “Nora is distraught from something we encountered on our mission,” Danse began. “As her partner, it’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

“I think he still thinks he’s part of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Hancock said to Deacon.

The jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But the reminder that the organization he’d dedicated his entire life to had thrown him out like an old pipe pistol after they’d found out who he really was, stung him to his core.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with the way things had ended. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with who… or what… he truly was.

But Nora was. She wasn’t just okay with what he was, she’d convinced him that he had something to live for. She’d saved his life in so many ways. Because that’s who she was.

“Garvey,” Danse said, while still keeping his eyes locked on Hancock’s in a scowl.

He’d been aware that Preston Garvey had been watching the exchange with mild interest. He also knew that Preston would give him the information he needed, rather than needling him for fun.

“The General is in her old house,” Preston said.

“Oh come on,” Deacon whined. “Why did you have to ruin our fun?”

Danse simply shook his head in annoyance, never letting the scowl leave his features as he walked away from Hancock and Deacon. “Thank you, Garvey.”

“Ad Victorium!” Deacon called after Danse’s retreating form.

“Ingrates,” Danse mumbled under his breath as he made his way to Nora’s old home in the quickly fading light.

It didn’t take long for his expression to soften as he heard the soft sounds of music coming from her living room.

Danse exited his power armor and knocked on the front door, straightening his posture and trying to figure out what he could possibly say to Nora about what she’d just seen. He should have known that going back into Vault 111 would be difficult for her. The fact that it had never crossed his mind only made him feel that much more responsible for her current dismay.

“Come in,” she called over the music.

Danse opened the door to her home and entered the living room to find Nora sitting on the couch with a large bottle of bourbon in her hand.

“Soldier,” Danse warned. “I know it’s tempting to lose yourself to something like that. But it isn’t wise.”

Nora laughed at his words before patting the couch beside her. “Come sit with me, Danse.”

The Paladin looked around the room, as if he’d find someone else there who would tell him it was a bad idea. There was no one. And the voice in his head that was constantly telling him to be better was nowhere to be found right at that moment.

Danse swallowed hard before taking a seat beside Nora. He felt oddly exposed without his power armor on. With only the orange Brotherhood jumpsuit between himself and the outside world, he wasn’t quite sure how to act. He felt too vulnerable.

“Why do you still wear that thing?” Nora asked, running her free hand over the arm of Danse’s jumpsuit in a way that gave him goosebumps.

“I could ask you the same question,” he answered with a smile, looking at her blue vault suit.

She took another long drink from the bourbon bottle before smiling at him. “Touche, Paladin.”

The bottle was almost empty and he silently cursed himself for giving her so much time to herself after she left the vault. She’d most definitely be inebriated by now.

The way she lazily watched him told him that the alcohol was definitely doing its job. And while he didn’t approve of her drinking, he had to admit it made it easier for him to address what had just happened.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

“You mean after seeing my dead husband frozen in a metal container?” her words should have sounded harsh, but coming from Nora, nothing sounded harsh. “I’ve felt better.”

“I know that couldn’t have been easy, seeing him like that again.”

“I wasn’t planning on going into that room,” Nora admitted after another drink. She looked down at the bottle in her hands. “I told myself I wouldn’t do it. And then I did.”

Danse watched her carefully. Her cheeks and nose were red from the bourbon and she looked sad. Sadder than he’d seen her in a while. How could he possibly make this better.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Nora looked over at him. Her green eyes were wide as she watched him. “You remind me of Nate sometimes.”

“Oh?” Danse wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. Keeping his response vague felt like the best course of action.

“I mean… you don’t really remind me of him. But that feeling of safety I always felt with him… I feel that with you too.” Nora smiled now, before setting the bottle down on the coffee table in front of her. “I feel safe with you. And that’s… it’s an invaluable thing in the Commonwealth.”

Danse tried to look away from Nora as she spoke, feeling uncomfortable with how vulnerable she was being. But he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Thank you, soldier.”

Nora laughed softly at his response. “You don’t have to call me that,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “We’re not on some official assignment. You were just… accompanying me on my own little recon mission.”

“I prefer keeping things formal,” Danse lied. The truth was, he didn’t feel like keeping things formal with Nora. But he wouldn’t tell her that in a million years. Danse was broken beyond repair. Nora was many things, but there was no way she would be saintly enough to look past what he was.

“Do you really, Danse?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and leaning in closer.

“I think you should probably go lie down for the night,” Danse said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at just how close they were on the couch. “Sleep off that bourbon.”

Nora leaned away from him and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

She seemed… disappointed. Danse wasn’t sure why she’d be upset by his suggestion.

As Nora stood up from the couch, she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

“Okay fine,” she said with a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. I do need to sleep this off.”

“Indeed,” Danse answered, standing up and placing his hand under her elbow to help keep her steady. “Easy now.”

Nora leaned against him as he walked her through the hall to her bedroom at the back of the house. He tried to ignore the way his breath seemed to catch in his throat at her touch.

When they entered her room, Danse let her go for a moment to pull her covers down for her. When he turned back around, she was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You always take good care of me,” she said, her voice so low that he could barely hear it.

“I'll always have your back,” he said. “That’s what we do. We watch out for each other.”

“We do,” she said, the lazy smile returning to her lips.

Danse watched her in silence for a moment before his discomfort grew to be too much. “Are you ready for bed?” he asked, looking away from Nora for a moment.

“Was that a line?” she asked, her grin widening.

“Nothing I’ve said today has been a line,” Danse said, hoping she was too intoxicated to notice how red his cheeks had become.

Nora stepped closer to Danse with the grin still in place. “Are you sure about that?”

Danse backed away from her but couldn’t move very far before the back of his legs hit the mattress. Not wanting to encourage her further, he stepped away from the bed. Of course, this only brought him closer to her.

Seeming to take this as a sign, Nora pressed her lips firmly against his. She tasted like alcohol, which only helped to remind Danse of why this was incredibly inappropriate.

Pushing her away gently he tried to gather his thoughts as his mind desperately tried to push him closer to her again. “Soldier, this is… inappropriate.” His words were stilted and his voice sounded tight.

“Again, Danse, that’s kind of the point,” Nora said, bringing her lips to his again and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Danse knew he should push her away. She was intoxicated and he had no business kissing her. But he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back. Only for a moment. Only long enough for his heart to begin hammering inside of his chest.

His breathing was shallow as his mouth moved with hers, and he hated himself for kissing her back when it was so obvious she wasn’t in her right mind. The guilt that flooded his mind was only outweighed by the sudden deep desire he had to deepen the kiss.

Danse couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly kissed. And as much as his hands were itching to pull Nora closer, he pushed her away again.

“Soldier,” he began. “Nora… this… this isn’t okay. You’re drunk.” His voice was soft as he stared into her green eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked into his soul when he’d first found out he was a synth. Those green eyes that had convinced him he had something to live for.

“I’m not that drunk,” she said. “And I know what I want.”

Nora kissed him again, this time more desperately. She parted his lips with her own, tangling her fingers in his dark hair and pulling him closer and closer. Her kisses grew hungrier with every second and with each one, Danse found himself less able to do the right thing.

He wanted her. And that realization terrified him. He’d never wanted anyone this way.

“Nora, please,” he insisted between kisses. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist the woman he’d spent so long admiring.

In response, Nora dropped her hands to Danse’s waist, pulling him against her. “Don’t you want this?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve always thought you did.”

How did he respond to that? He couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. That he’d wanted this since he’d met her. That would only encourage her. And Danse wasn’t the type of person to take advantage of someone when they couldn’t properly think for themselves.

“Nora,” he said, pushing her hands away and taking a breathless step back. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched her. Even now, knowing he had to do the right thing, his body was screaming at him to pull her close again. “You’ve had too much to drink.” His words were short and to the point. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay away if he let any emotion sneak into his voice right at that moment. “If this happened, it wouldn’t be right.”

“I already told you I want this,” Nora insisted, but as she took a step closer to Danse, he sidestepped her.

“You aren’t sober enough to make that decision,” Danse answered, furrowing his brow and wishing Nora hadn’t found that bottle of bourbon. “So I’m making it for you. You need to go to sleep.”

Nora watched him with hurt in her green eyes, her brows knitting together. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” she said, turning away from him. She seemed to take a deep breath before crawling into her bed.

Nora turned her back to Danse, instead facing the wall after lying down. The silence between them was suddenly deafening.

Even though he knew he was doing the right thing, her response made him feel like the bad guy.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he said. “I just… want you to be safe.”

He watched her for a moment longer, feeling like he’d done something wrong somehow.

“Goodnight, Danse,” Nora said.

He sighed deeply at her words. In the morning, he’d come by and check on her. She probably wouldn’t remember any of this. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad that he couldn’t say the same.

This evening would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. The feeling of Nora kissing him was going to make it almost impossible for him to keep working with her. He’d always been vaguely aware of his feelings for her, but he’d managed to tell himself that they were simply a result of finding a genuinely kind human being in the midst of a place as awful as the Commonwealth.

Now he knew the truth. He was head over heels for Nora. But he knew there was no way she’d ever want a synth. And why should she? He’d brought her into the Brotherhood. He’d taught her that synths were an abomination. And now he’d have to reap what he’d sown.

He watched her with sad eyes as her breathing slowed down and she fell asleep.

He’d be a good friend to her. He’d always try to be a good friend to her. Because despite his feelings that he knew couldn’t be reciprocated, she deserved a good friend. Danse would rather have Nora in his life as a friend than not at all. And even though he knew it would be torture to be around her after realizing just how much he cared for her, he couldn’t live with the alternative.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he said into the now-dark house.

.

[Part 2]

[opossumanonymous]

How did he get in this mess?

Warnings: Inko literally uses her quirk to pull out AFOs pubic hair because I don't think anything else would immobilize him temporarily, talk of inko using her quirk to pull organs, guns mentioned

I wrote this on my phone so sorry if anything looks funky for computer users. If I made any mistakes or any characters are too ooc please tell me. Also this is a fanfic featuring AFO as Midoriya Hizashi and Inko as a ex-Black Widow and mostly features them please enjoy!~

******************************************************

How did he get in this mess, face kissing the floor and completely caught off guard?

Hizashi wasn't quite sure himself actually. One minute he was doing some 'work' before he heard the voice of his wife over his shoulder.

"Hizashi, what are you doing?"

Then he was on the floor a nearly blinding pain spread over his body leaving him in fetal position unable to think of nothing else.

Once his mind got clear again he turned his head to the side looking up at the woman who he thought was his wife. Her usually gentle smile was gone leaving a cold look on her face as she read through his files. One of her hands out stretched towards him while the other clicked through the computer.

Which made him briefly realize he may have to put plan B into action but before that he had to know if this was his wife or someone else. Last thing he wanted was to do something reckless if this wasn't his wife.

"Who-" Before Hizashi could utter a word he felt another painful pull causing him to ball up even further trying to somehow ease the pain. He choked on air as Inko? Stared at him with a blank expression now turned away from the computer. She crossed her legs as she watched him wither in pain looking at with him cold emotionless green eyes.

Who was this woman she can't be Inko! It gave him brief fear realizing that a shape-shifting spy might have tricked him somehow. After all theres no way his sweet wife could ambush him, let alone be capable of hurting him this badly! But if this is someone with a shape-shifting quirk there's no way they would also have wife's quirk as well. Unless they can copy the quirks of people they shape-shift into but then-

"So was this what you were doing while I was comforting our son?"

His eyes widened at that realization, it hit Hizashi hard as he broke out in a cold sweat. He looked up at Inko who still had that chilling look on her face making Hizashi for the first time in 200 years feel...afraid.

He didn't know whether to be impressed at her or disgusted in himself, him, All for One, the symbol of evil, the villain who has brought many heros and villains alike to their knees is...afraid? It sounds unreal just thinking about it that someone could still scare him.

Not by much but still it was a feat that no one before her had done in a long time.

He felt like he was getting whiplash knowing that the same woman who cooked him breakfast nearly every morning, who cried at anything sad or happy, and cuddled up to him at night was looming over him like some villain.

"Hizashi speak up your mumbling." She spoke harshly as he felt another pull, he's starting to lose feeling in his legs.

"I already knew." He said breathless feeling defeated almost, yet another feat none before her had accomplished. He could almost hear his brother laughing from his grave at this point. "What?" Her forehead wrinkled the cold look leaving her face for a moment making her look more like the Inko he knew.

"I checked Izuku years ago, I had my suspicions when he didn't develop his quirk after he turned 5. While I can't tell what a quirk is if I don't know it, I can sense them." He told her truthfully "When I reached into his subconscious one night after I tucked him in bed, I found no sign of a quirk." He knew their was a chance Izuku would be quirkless anyway, Hizashi was from the first generation of quirk users after all.

But he would never give his son a quirk, no he's not going to let history repeat itself, if there's anything he's learned in his 200 years of life it's never give your hero loving relatives a quirk.

Plus being a hero is 10 times more dangerous now, no thanks to him, he'd rather his precious son live quirkless.

Despite the ridicule quirkless people get from society atleast he won't ever get badly hurt or worse killed. Luckily Hizashi had a back up plan just in case he needed to protect his family from themselves.

But seeing Inko looming above him is starting to make him think about adding more reinforcements to the vault. After all she's not so much of a gullible woman like he once thought she was.

"I see but that doesn't change anything, you weren't there for our baby when he needed you most. That's why after this you're going to march into our sons room and comfort him like a good father should." He almost winched at her harsh tone. He honestly didn't know if he should be scared or not. He did still have an arsenal of quirks he could use but none that were non lethal from a long range he could use on her.

"And if I don't, what will you do?" He was curious in all honesty after all it's not every day your usually gentle and emotional wife does a 360 degree personality change on you.

"Then I'll keep ripping out your pubic hairs till you comply." He felt a slight tug again at the slight flick of her wrist causing him to flinch.

He had felt tempted to challenge her, now realizing it was a mistake seeing as she has him by the balls...literally.

"And if you try anything...well you'll be surprised at how many organs count as a small objects." She said with a chilling smile which he almost hates to admit made him flinch.

He always knew her quirk was suspicious despite only being limited to small objects it could still be a deadly quirk if used right. The number of deadly weapons considered small objects was big and considering she only needs a vague idea of where an object is located to pull it to her which includes organs...Hizashi's starting to realize he didn't really know his wife like he thought he did.

After all who would've guessed his sweet Inko would use her quirk so...creatively. He nodded, head still pressed to the hard wood floor of his office.

Inko gave a sigh of relief as she genuinely smiled running her hand through her green locks. "Good I'm glad we could come to an agreement." Hizashi felt the release of her quirk as she sat back legs still crossed.

He slowly sat on all fours before rising to his knees still feeling phantom pains with each slight movement.

Once he was on his knees he wrapped his arms around her waist laying his head in her stomach. She gently caressed his head of white curls causing him to sink further into her and let out a content hum. After a while he looked up at her, the cold look on her face gone now taking a more softer expression.

"I knew you where a villain since the first week after we got married." Hizashi didn't think Inko could shock him anymore but that honestly got him, and yet again she conquered another feat.

He would have never guessed that she knew about him being a villain before now. "Honestly I felt like I got rusty since I found out so late, but I guess living a normal civilian life will make anyone like that." She smiled gently at him looking more like the Inko he knew. Or atleast thought he knew, she was one of the most ordinary people he met from her average nursing job to her adorable naiveté at times.(which he now knows was probably just an act) She played him like a fiddle, he underestimated her and made him fall even harder for her.

That's right, he didn't think it was possible to love her even more than he already did, but this moment proved that wrong.

"Wait then if you knew why did you stay and why wait until now to bring it up?"

She furrowed her eyebrows again before turning her head away from him thinking about her answer for a second before looking back. "I'm not exactly who I said I was either..." She trailed off with a far away look in her eyes almost like she was looking through him and not at him.

He took her hand which had stopped rubbing his head and brought it to his cheek. This seemed to help her focus again as she gave him a tired smile.

"I'm not a good person either Hizashi I've done alot of things that I now regret." For a moment he guessed that she was an ex-villain that he'd just never heard of.

Although that was very unlikely seeing as he liked to keep tabs on most high profile villains to find anyone with good...potential. Inko definitely wasn't a low class villain she just didn't fit the profile of a bank robber or common street thug. Her aura gave off a more experienced air to it not to mention no low class villain would have the guts to look him in the eye once finding out who he really is.

"I was once apart of an organization who specialized in training those considered...unless in society." The way she said useless held a malice to it despite her still having a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"They kidnapped me and many other young girls most of them either being quirkless or having 'weak' quirks." Quirkless trafficking while rare nowadays still went on but he'd never heard of an organization making quirkless people assassins. Wlep there's a first time for everything he guessed.

"They trained and raised all of us to be assassins, to put it simply, they chose us because they knew we'd be underestimated."

Assassins? If someone had told him is lovely wife was secretly an assassin he'd laugh in their face before killing them for saying such a thing. But now after being brought to his knees by her he honestly isn't surprised, at this point he'd believe anything that came out of her mouth. She could tell him she could kill someone with only a plastic spoon and he'd believe her.

"I was one of the lucky ones i was able to escape before my 'graduation' if you could call it that. I was even able to find my birth certificate after months of digging through missing persons reports." She now went back to stroking his white curls as she spoke.

"After escaping I decided to live the life my mother wanted me to or at least I like to think she'd want me to." He knew she was an orphan, she'd told him that on their second date he never thought much about it.

He never even really looked into her mother much either only knowing that she died when Inko was young and that she was Nana Shimura's sister. When he found this out at first he was suspicious but over time he let his guard down, if that was a mistake is still up for debate.

"They called us Black Widows." He'd heard that name before but it's been so long, last time he heard the words Black Widow he was reading a comic book to his sick brother. It's either unoriginal or genius considering most will only think of the comic book hero Black Widow opposed to it being a real organization.

Finally getting the feeling back in his legs he stood up stretching slightly while she watched him. He stared down at her now that he had the high ground it was time to give her what she deserved.

He leaned down towards her his hands coming up to her face menacingly. But she just sat there unfazed with a serene look on her face, their was no real use in trying she knew he wouldn't hurt her. He held her face as he leaned in and gave her lips a gentle kiss.

After pulling away he took her hand and helped her out of his office chair. "Now time to go see about Izuku hopefully I can get him out of his depressed mood."

Giving her a true smile only reserved for his family he lead her out of his office not before shutting down his computer and locking the door.

"Yes please talk to him because I didn't know what to do than to apologize to him." She sighed clearly distressed. "While it has been a long time since I escaped somethings I still just don't know the right words for." She looked defeated like she didn't just have Japan's greatest villain nearly kissing her feet.

"It's fine darling soon Izuku will go back to being that happy kid again, you'll see." He gave her a final kiss before heading to Izukus room ready to help his son or else face the wraith of his wife.

He briefly wondered just how good of an assassin his wife is and just how many she's killed. But quickly shook those thoughts away as he entered his son's All Might themed room.

While he'd never ask her anything more about her past as a Black Widow he soon came to realize she was highly skilled as he watched his son on TV.

He was watching UAs sports festival with Tomura at his current hideout the boy exclaiming in shock at this year's winner.

The one to take first place was UAs first quirkless student Midoriya Izuku who took out the competition with only a pair of electroshock bracelets as wepons.

Not to say that it was only the support tools that secured his win, the way he bended dodging attacks and hit his opponents with devastating blows to the head made him nearly laugh out loud.

It was almost hard to believe that this was the same kind boy he once tucked in bed but he had to admit his son was quite reckless.

He's in all honesty proud of his son especially for beating Mizuki's brat whose bullied his poor son for years. While he isnt happy that his son's well on his way to being a hero atleast Inko trained him well.

Just how did Hizashi get in this mess he'd hoped quirklessness would make his son reconsider being a hero but it seems Inko had other plans.

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Extras:

So originally Inko was gonna hold him at gun point but I felt like AFO wouldn't be sacred of a gun so....

Also Inko has wepons (mostly guns) hidden in every wall in the apartment after all you never know when the red room might strike.

Inko still gets chubby but not from stress over Izuku being quirkless it's more so over the red room possibly finding him and taking him. She's still bad ass tho, can kill anyone with a just plastic spoon.

She also ran away from the red room before they could sterilize her.

Izuku does eventually get One for all but it's after the sports festival instead, tho he does still parade as a quirkless hero even after One for all.

He also is a vigilante on the side under the name Black Widow tho most think he's a girl because of the Black Widow reference. He even wears his mom's old Black Widow suit.

You could say he's hero Deku by day and vigilante Black Widow by night!

AFO totally knows it's him tho because he knows Inko wouldn't be that reckless or feral.

Izuku has no idea his loving father is AFO but knows his mom's an ex-assassin.

[takiki16]

Book of Nile: Getting Together Post-Canon Thoughts

OKAY so I maxed out my tag space on this post talking about the logistics of #book of nile, and then @themoonwheniamlost​ confirmed this as at least 50% of a good idea, so HERE IT IS, copy-pasted and with all the hashtags cleaned out and EXPANDED UPON because screw tag limits!

The thing about #book of nile is that it is very easy to talk about Booker falling in love with Nile - who wouldn’t?  But I need to block out how Nile falls in love with Booker without (1) centering Booker bc that is the OPPOSITE of why i ship this, and (2) without making this about Nile 'fixing' Booker because fixing Booker is BOOKER'S job. 

MORE UNDER THE CUT ABOUT BOOK OF NILE ORIGIN STORIES

SO. HEADING THE FIRST - SAD FRENCH JUDAS adn the very very easy matter of Booker falling in love with Nile.

I kind of like to think that it wasn't QUITE 'love at first sight' for Booker but it was a darn near thing? Because their connection was so close from that very 1st dream where Booker puts a hand to his throat and says 'i felt her die' to that moment they shared in the cave when they realized they were the only two immortals who had comparatively recent memories of their mortal families.  I mean Booker was sort of preoccupied for the whole movie with being Sad French Rat Judas with Copley, but I FIRMLY HEADCANON that he started doing Soulmate Math very soon after meeting Nile and soaking her presence in that first time.  If Andy had Quynh and Joe has Nicky, maybe...maybe after 200 years...Nile is the one Destined for Me?  And then AFTER canon in the secret Youngest Immortals Chat that Booker and Nile Definitely have there is Definite Pining on Booker’s end - think “I love a Noble Princess but am a sad undeserving man with issues so I’ll just hold this here torch from afar.”  AND THAT TAKES CARE OF BOOKER.

Now. HEADING THE SECOND.  NILE. NILE FREEMAN. AND HOW AND WHY SHE MIGHT CHOOSE TO FALL IN LOVE WITH SAD FRENCH RAT JUDAS OVER HERE

...gawd you guys. this is totally the fault of that Matthias Schoenaerts gifset where he goes under someone's skirt, but i am SO TEMPTED to just go whole hog romcom on this?

It was some kind of Bad Anniversary for Nile at some point during the 100 years  (listen, I’m increasingly fond of the 100-year exile as Free Real Estate to focus exclusively on Book of Nile) and Nile is lonely and sad and feeling like crap and ends up secretly visting Booker and getting sloppy drunk at his place because sometimes misery really does love company.  And Booker is an Absolute Gentleman and Practiced Drunk Shoulder to Cry on, and he takes the chair while she crashes in the bed because that’s what you do for the person you’ve been pining for. 

And then the next morning Nile wakes up feeling numb and empty and embarrassed, and when Booker brings her a cup of coffee she leans over and kisses him because she needs to feel something, some kind of connection to the living world. 

And Booker is just !!!!!! OH!!!!!!  I am a Sad Undeserving Man, but Nile Freeman is kissing me and if this is what she wants from me then I can 100000% do this for her even if it is only this once in our whole entire crappy immortal lives.  And THEN NILE QUITE SIMPLY GETS THE BEST LAY OF HER LIFE, because I cannot stretch my imagination to Booker having anything healthy emotionally to offer so soon after canon, but I CAN and WILL BELIEVE that he knows EXACTLY what to do with his mouth and his tongue and his hands and...you know.  Other titty-ban forbidden things. 

And afterwords, when her legs work again and Nile is getting dressed - Feeling Different - she turns around and looks over her shoulder.  And Booker is lying on the rumpled bed with the afternoon sunlight falling just so all disheveled, and he smiles at her and says mon cher, with a LITTLE BIT of sad pining showing through because despite his best efforts to keep his feelings to himself and Not Drag Nile Down With Him he is having Emotions.

Oh, Nile thinks.  Oh.  Maybe...?

And then she goes back to her place and has a SECOND CRISIS, because WTF???  This is SO MUCH of a Whole Bad Idea, she KNOWS what Booker did and what he is, which is Sad French Rat Judas, but she DID have um. A really. REALLY. good time?  And is there anyone else even available for her to date?  And how much does she reeeeallly want to get into this?  And maybe it was just a trick of the light or something?  How much is she willing to bank on how well she knows Booker?  Who, after all, had a wife and kids that he is VISIBLY not coping well with losing even 200 years later?  But also Nile starts running Soulmate Math and thinking...what if...destiny?

So Nile freaks out and doesn’t text Booker for a whole month, and the next time they meet for coffee she can’t stop blushing because whenever she looks at his face she remembers Exactly where his mouth has been and what it LOOKS like in...citrus situations and she’s more nervous and uncomfortable with him than she’s ever been before.

And BOOKER meanwhile is Working On Himself but also thinking FUQ I ruined everything I Took Advantage in an emotional moment and now she hates me and doesn’t want anything more to do with me and is just waiting for a moment to let me down kindly because Nile is So Good.  And she is absolutely right to do so but darned if I say anything before SHE says anything because at this point I absolutely cannot put this torch I’ve been carrying down before she explicitly extinguishes it.

so it’s GREAT (ㆆ ᴗㆆ) 

AND NOT TO START EVERY SINGLE PARAGRAPH OF THIS THING WITH ‘AND,’ but there is DEFINITELY a breaking point after like...a couple MONTHS of awkward stiff meetups whereas before it felt natural - the two youngest immortals sneaking around together and sharing a coping space.  Nile can’t take it anymore and just says LISTEN do you actually like...LIKE LIKE me or do you NOT like me because that was a STUPENDOUS morning and early afternoon and you gave me this Really Intense Significant Look, but also you’ve literally said nothing about it to me since then and I’m cracking under the strain because I won’t do casual relationships when there’s literally only 5 of us in the pool and you’re the only other single one and i have NO IDEA what i”m doing and also dating you would be a TERRIBLE idea due to so many reasons??????

And Booker is like YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT dating me would be a terrible idea but...of COURSE I like-like you???  I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to dump this whole garbage fire of Sad Drunk Judas on your beautiful new immortal life?  I have no idea what I’m doing either but I’m kind of in love with you and in love with the idea that We Could Be Together and maybe eternity Wouldn’t Suck but I didn’t want to say anything because you could do SO much better and I don’t want to stand in the way of that?

Which is SUCH A BEAUTIFUL image to have, because even though at this point Nile can see a century coming on and Booker is 200+ years old, there is a strong flavor of “We, the two youngest in this classroom, are Figuring Out some things?”

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO RESOLVE THIS, but at some point there is a dramatic pause and a removal to a more romantic setting preferrably by the water, and Booker kisses Nile’s hand. In the silence after words.  Very old fashioned and chaste and good - he bows instead of lifting it to his lips - and you all can take things from there.  

[lizziestudieshistory]

Books of 2021 - September TBR: Magical Readathon edition

(AKA. Lizzie has gone mad!)

It's my last month of relative freedom before the last year of my masters begins in October, so I wanted to make the most of my time rather than just doss about on my phone for another month. As such I decided to do the Magical Readathon, hosted by G from Book Roast on Booktube, to make me read. However, because I'm a chronic overachiever, instead of picking out prompts I wanted to do I'm trying to read for all of them. Someone needs to restrain me at this point!

Anyway, here's the books:

The Novice Path Entrance: read a book with a map - Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson

Already a bad start for a readathon... I’m getting back into the mood for high/epic fantasy and I need to finish my rereads of both these books. I’m currently in the mood for Oathbringer, mainly because I’ve been catching up with Shardcast and finishing my Words of Radiance review. However, I REALLY want to reread Rhythm of War now we’re almost a year on from its release, but I need to reread Oathbringer first.

I do want to say I might give myself a pass and say if I’ve read half of Oathbirnger I’m counting it as a success because these books are MASSIVE and I’ve got a few other tomes on this list!

Ashtorn Tree: a book that keeps tempting you (or top of your TBR) - Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

This is where posting your tbr a week into the month gets awkward... I’ve already finished Peter Pan. However, I read this in one of my whims to read a book with Captain Hook in it, usually I veer off into a retelling but it was time to read the origninal book. I’d not read Peter Pan before, and I keep feeling the urge and surpressing it. (Should have kept doing it because the book really hasn’t aged well...!)

The Mist of Solitude: read a standalone - Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray*

Another bad choice... I’ve wanted to read this book for ages, I’d meant to start it earlier this year, and I’m buddy reading it with a friend. I need to read it now and it definitely fits this prompt. I do really love Vanity Fair as a story - both the film and miniseries are FABULOUS - so I’m excited to get into the book...it’s just 900 pages!

Much like Oathbringer I might give myself a pass if I read over half the book and say I’ve completed the prompt!

*I've left my physical copy at my Nan's like a prize idiot so I couldn't include it in the photo...

Ruin of the Skye: read a book featuring ghosts/hauted house, or other supernatural elements - The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

Oops another one I’ve already finished. This is the only ghost story I own that I haven’t read, it’s also short (thank God!) However, I really don’t like ghost stories... It showed in my reading experience.

Obsidian Falls: read a thriller or mystery - Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier

This is another genre I don’t read a lot from, I’ll read the occassional mystery through dark academia or Agatha Christie but I can’t even think of a thriller I’ve read recently! However, Jamaica Inn is my book club read for September so I’ve got to read it and the quotes on the book says it’s a classic thriller

Tower of Rumination: read a five star prediction - Malice by John Gwynne

I rarely predict 5 star reads, that last book I remember picking up thinking ‘this will be a 5 star read’ was The Way of Kings, which I read 5 years ago... However, I do have high hopes for this one? Honestly, this is the book I’m most likely to switch out for something else depending on my mood later in the month.

Orilium Academy Arc: a book with a school setting - Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger

I needed a book I know is going to be a quick read at this point, I also really want to revisit the Finishing School series because I read the whole series in about 4 days! I also want to have a small refresher before Carriger’s next book in the Delightfully Deadly series comes out next month, which is a sequel about one of the sidecharacters introduced in this book. It’s also a fun, fast paced, YA adventure about victorian girls at a school for spies - what more could you want?!

I’m tentatively throwing Measure for Measure by Shakespeare onto the pile because it’s left over from last month - but no promises because there’s already A LOT. I also needed to finish Emma at the start of the month, so that added on abotu 200 pages!

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Study Habits

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,095

Summary: You are stressing about finals and need to study. When Pogue graciously volunteers to be your study buddy, you don’t refuse the offer. 

Silence and solitude, you decided, were your ideal conditions for studying for finals. Spencer Academy was a fairly serious institution given its status as a prep school, but the library and various common areas tended to transform into social scenes, especially during this point in the semester. As much as you enjoyed the chatter and laughs, you really needed to study in order to pass your physics final and make the honor roll.

At first you tried moving your studying to your dorm, which was definitely quieter, but it didn’t exactly give off study vibes either. It was way too easy to take a nap or raid your snack stash or eavesdrop on conversations that were happening in the hallway.

You looked and looked for a good spot and you finally found it in the discovery of the school’s shop classroom. Not many students at Spencer took wood or metal shop that you were aware of and you were a little surprised those classes were offered at all. The room itself was tucked away in a dim basement that shared space with random storage rooms and an unused bomb shelter, a relic leftover from the 1940s.

The day you found it was also the day you found out that the room’s door wasn’t locked by the teacher, which wasn’t good from a security standpoint, but made entering very easy for you whenever you dropped by after hours to study.

Being a shop classroom, it was mostly open space and machinery, not unlike a garage situation. You were extra careful not to disturb any of the projects-in-progress, even though some of them looked really cool, and avoided all of the tools, most of which you couldn’t name much less identify.

But there were a couple of waist high counter tables along one wall so you could sit down. The height was just right where you could alternate between sitting on a stool and standing on your feet which was honestly better for your circulation. Most importantly, it was abandoned at this time of night and that meant no distractions.

The sneaking around continued for a couple of days until your anxiety had had enough, prompting you to find out the teacher’s information so that you could email them and ask formal permission to use the room when school wasn’t in session. Mr. Clarke seemed happy enough to let you use it and you decided you liked him even though you had never met in person.

It wasn’t even until the second week of studying down there that you finally saw someone other than yourself. You had just finished dinner and made the trek from the dorms to the shop room when you noticed them. A radio played softly in the distance but as you got closer and closer to your spot, you figured out that it was coming from the room.

You paused just outside the door and debated whether you should still go in or not; you really needed to get through some practice problems, but would you still be as productive if someone else was in there? You really should do these problems. Besides, maybe the other person would leave soon.

The metal handle clicked as you opened the door.

A small boombox was blaring some Green Day out of its speakers and figure in a black tee sat next to it fiddling with a hand drill.

Wanting to get his attention before the drill started up you cleared your throat loudly.

Beautiful hazel eyes locked onto you immediately and you felt a little breathless. That was before he turned fully around and you were better able to appreciate his toned chest and arms through the black fabric of his shirt, small barely detectable sawdust particles attached themselves to his jeans.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a raised hand.

Of all people to run into you couldn’t believe that it was Pogue Parry, one of, and in your opinion, the student body’s top eye candies. Dazzled, all you managed was a timid wave back.

He cocked his head, his shaggy hair falling slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Come on, Y/N. Get it together and answer the boy.

“Actually, we have—”

“Physics together,” he finished with a smile. “I know. I meant down here in the shop.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. He recognized you! A Son of Ipswich noticed that you were in a class with him and you were so excited that you managed to ignore the fact that you had misunderstood him. “You’re right about that. I’ve only been coming here for, like, a week. I got permission to study here.”

“Cool. Mr. Clarke is a sweetheart so I’m not surprised.”

Trying to get back on track you asked, “How long do you think you’ll be working on that?”

Both of you looked at the drill.

“You probably want it quiet, huh? I can stop for today, this is just a side project I’m doing anyway, it’s gonna be a tv stand when it’s done. Definitely not as important as a final.”

As much as you felt bad for interrupting him and essentially taking over his spot, you took him up on his offer. He was now the hottest and kindest classmate in your mind. You dropped you backpack on the floor and spread your papers across the countertop trying your best to sneak peeks at Pogue where he was cleaning up a few feet away.

When he finished, he walked over. “What class are you studying for?”

“Physics.”

“No way!” He pulled up a stool and straddled it opposite of you.

It made you nervous to have him watch you write and when he pointed out a mistake you made, you felt like crawling into a hole. The eraser left behind eraser shavings as you corrected the error.

“Hey, wanna work together?” he asked either not noticing your embarrassment or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Cool.”

He wasted no time and grabbed his own copy of the packet, clicking open a pen, ready to go.

You moved to the next problem and read it out loud.

“A block weighing 200 N is pushed along a surface. If it takes 80 N to get the block moving and 40 N to keep the block moving at a constant velocity, what are the coefficients of friction μs and μk?”

Pogue hunched over, quickly working it out when he noticed you sitting still, rubbing the end of your pencil against your mouth. Scooching over to your side of the counter he showed you his work and walked you through his steps.

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

He laughed off the compliment. “Nah, I promise you I’m a pretty stupid student.”

“But you finished this problem in under a minute,” you insisted. “Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck for hours and still have gotten it wrong.”

He stared at you and even though you couldn’t get a good read on him, it was too easy to get lost in his eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“I don’t want to throw off your groove of anything, but maybe we can study together.”

Was this a dream? Because an invitation like that only happened in your fantasies.

“But I don’t know how that benefits you—you seem to a good handle on it already,” you admitted.

“As I told you, stupid student. Besides, my study habits are non-existent so maybe some of yours will rub off.”

You beamed at him, easily convinced. “Well then let’s go over the first problem again because I’m still confused...”

Every night for the next seven days Pogue met you in the basement and walked with you to the classroom for your study session. Despite not having a high opinion towards his academic abilities, he was very patient and effective tutor/partner.

“Wait, remember to multiply the variables in the parenthesis before subtracting it from the total. PEMAS is your friend Y/N.”

He was also very easy to talk to. Whenever he talked about his bike or swim regimen, two things you knew nothing about, he took the time to put it into words you understood without making you feel like an idiot. And when you were feeling chatty, he would actively take an interest in what you had to say.

“Hunger pains after a swim workout are the worst, especially after long swims where your aerobic systems are gassed. It feels like you’re one stomach growl away from wasting away.”

“Oh, speaking of food, I found a granola recipe. I don’t know who decide to mix coconut and cranberries with granola, but that palate combination amazing. I’ll bring you some if it turns out alright.”

“You’d better save me some then, even if it’s not to your ridiculously high standards. I can feed some to the boys, too.”

Time flew by and it didn’t feel like the studying had gone on for a whole week. Each session seemed to pass faster as you got to know him better, to see the him that didn’t have to be filtered for the public eye. You liked this side of him even better than what you have seen of him in class and in the halls.

But all things come to an end. On the last session before the final, you guys finally finished the last question in the review packet with a grateful exhale.

“You sir, are a physics godsend. I can’t believe we’re done with the whole review guide.”

“I hope the final isn’t as long as the guide is. He must’ve stuck every problem we did during the semester in this thing,” he complained.

“I really hope not,” you groaned. Because if it was, there was no way you would finished within the allotted one-hour period.

“But, I have a feeling you’re going to crush the exam. Just try your best not the set the curve too high, for the rest of our sakes.”

You playfully shoved him for the last part of his comment. Silence stretched on and you realized that this was the last time you guys were scheduled to study together. Fast on the heels of that thought was another: you didn’t want to leave. By the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, you hoped that meant he was reluctant as well.

“So…” he trailed off and you waited with bated breath. “Guess we should pack up, it’s almost nine.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment at his words. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a second, you were tempted to ask him out, or at least see if he wanted to hang out as friends, but you decided against it. He was the type that would’ve spoken up if he were interested. Best just to act dignified and be thankful that he bothered helping you in the first place.

You were steps away from walking out the door when he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“Actually, what I meant to ask is if you want to get a bite to eat after the test tomorrow. Is that weird?”

Your pulse fluttered in obvious joy.

“You mean like a date?” you breathed.

“Yeah. You’re a pretty cool, Y/N, and I’d be sad if this is the last time we hang out.”

“I would love to,” you assured him with a huge smile on your face.

He reached to slowly envelope you in a hug, and even if the angle was a little awkward due to the backpacks being in the way, you automatically hugged back. You were thrilled to discover that he smelled like an exotic mix of leather and, dare you say, magic.

You were even more thrilled when he walked you back to the dorms like the sweet boy you had observed him to be over the past week. Luckily there weren’t any people loitering out in the hallway because if word got out that a Son of Ipswich had walked you to your room, the whole school would know by morning and you were enjoying the moment far too much to have to worry about that.

“Good luck tomorrow. See you on the flip side,” he said in parting.

That night you laid in bed but felt like you were on cloud nine. In less than twenty-four hours, you would be done with physics for the semester and have had a date with Pogue Parry. Pogue Parry! You snuggled into your pillow and swore his scent still lingered freshly in your nose.

_______________

I was super inspired yesterday and wrote this. Good luck to everyone that’s prepping for final exams! Thanks for reading.  

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Once Upon an Attack on Titan

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

This is a little one shot within the au of my fic inspired by Grimm’s fairy tales.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jean, I’m leaving now!” You sang out the window that overlooked the garden of your quaint cottage. You slipped your boots on with a leather pop and pulled up the scarlet hood of your cloak. As you padded out the door you grabbed the wicker basket from the table that smelled of wine and warm tartes.

The late afternoon sun was at its strongest, basking your modest abode in an aura of warmth. And within the pumpkin patch that bloomed bronze in the sunlight was a sight to behold indeed.

“ Move asshole.” Jean groaned as he put all of his strength into attempting to push your cow. She was unaffected and continued to happily graze on the dandelions you had forgotten to weed out near the edge of the garden. She flicked her tail in annoyance as if Jean was an incessant fly when he smacked her on the rear.

“Whose being the asshole? How would you like it if you were eating and someone slapped you?” You chided playfully. Jean deadpanned in exhaustion and gave you the middle finger. His irritation rose with every non-existent step your bovine took.

“Yeah well, it’s almost noon. That means the auction starts in one hour.” His statement turned into a groan as he gave another big ineffective push. “If we don’t sell her that means-”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re broke.” You finished his sentence and made a swiping motion across your neck. Selling your beloved cow was the last resort and a stark reminder of how desperately you both needed money. Not only did you siblings have each other to support, but your aging grandmother as well.

“ Exactly . So get over here and help me push her!” Jean pleaded. You sighed and placed the handle of your basket in the crook of your elbow. You knelt down in the plush autumn grass and cradled her large head in between your hands. She immediately stopped eating and regarded you doe eyed. Parting with the sweet creature made you want to cry, but you knew you really had no other option at this point.

“Come on, Milky-White. I promise you will get to eat your fair share of hay at the auction house.” You cooed at her and she gave a sloppy lick to the side of your palm. Jean scoffed when you took the lead to the rope around her neck and she walked compliantly behind you.  

“Are you ready to go?” You asked your brother with a smug grin. He rolled his eyes and nodded, brushing the dirt from his vest. When he fell in step with you, you handed him the rope and adjusted your basket to rest on your forearm.

“I’ll walk with you part of the way. The auction is on the way to Oma’s.” You said and rested your free hand on Milky-White’s back comfortably as you strolled down the cobblestone path.

Once you had gotten a fair ways down into the sparse village, the crunching of foreign feet against pine needles alerted you. A decrepit woman emerged out of the thicket a few paces ahead. Her graying brunette locks were pulled back into a ponytail that made the most prominent feature of her face her bold nose. From behind her dirtied glasses she wore a smile that bordered insanity as she waddled closer to the siblings. You immediately halted and put a protective hand on Jean’s arm.

“Well hello pretties. A fine day to take your cow for a walk, isn’t it?” The woman remarked shrilly.

“Yes it is.” Your response was curt as you stood your ground. The old woman let out a chuckle that sounded as if she were squeezing air out of a dusty bellow.

“Would either of you like some candy?” She offered. You assumed she intended to sound inviting but the rising pitch of her voice made it feel like you were listening to someone drag their nails across an endless chalkboard. The woman reached into her beige cloak and pulled out a large lollipop. You squinted at the fine print on the translucent wrapping.

~Confectionaries by HZ~  

“We’ll pass, thanks.” Jean replied coldly. The haggard woman began looking him up and down and licking her encrusted lips.

“Are you sure? I’m a candy maker by trade and can assure you that you will never taste anything more-” She began, waddling closer to you. She bypassed your side and began circling you.

“Exquisite.” She finished as she rounded her path behind you. You were now thoroughly repulsed.

“I could give you a tour of my kitchen. I have a grand oven where I bake my treats, unlike the likes of any other. I bet it’s big enough to even fit you in it, my tall boy.” She bubbled and grabbed Jean’s arm. She gave it a good squeeze, feeling around the lean muscle.

“Lady, we don’t want your food!” Jean bristled, his voice cracking nervously. Her jerked his elbow out of her grasp but spooked Milky-White in the process. She took a few clumsy steps backwards and caused Jean to stumble. You moved to calm her, all the while not taking an eye off of the woman. Once Jean had regained himself you stepped in front of your family.

“Ma’am, thank you for the offer, but we really need to get going. We have an appointment we cannot miss.” You declared with a grin as sugary as her candy. She spat in frustration when you lifted the edge of your crimson cloak to reveal a concealed dagger strapped to your belt.

“The feisty ones always taste the spiciest.” You heard her mumble as she creeped away in the direction from whence you came.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Jean and your precious cow. They both were breathing heavily. You gave them comforting pats and began walking again.

“We need to move out of this village.” Jean whined and urged Milky-White to follow.

Several scarecrows and window sills holding freshly baked pies later, you arrived at the crossroads to the auction.

“Goodbye sweet girl. I hope that your new owners are as loving as me and nothing like my brother.” You said. You gave Milky-White one final smooch and scratched behind her ears. Soon Jean had to pry your pets and coos away from the animal. You backed off with a pout.

"Make sure you sell her for at least 200 dollars or something valuable we can sell. And stay away from that weird wizard, he's for sure a scam artist." You instructed Jean.

“Aw but I like Mike. He's got these beans that make you feel like you're floa-" You cut Jean's ramblings off with the sharpness of your glare.

"Fine fine. Alright, I’m off. Remember to stay on the path and make sure you keep your hand on your knife at all times. And most importantly, be back before nightfall.” Jean instructed and gave you a look that tried to be stern but fell slightly short.

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry, I’m always careful.” You replied to his nagging.

“Yeah but you can’t afford to just be careful. Anyway, tell Oma hello from her favorite grandchild.” He called as he turned down the right fork in the path. You snorted and pushed forward, trodding over the stones that took you deeper into the woods.

For a while it was just you and the conifers until an alluring song was carried by the light breeze to your ears. Delving deeper into the brush, you came upon a familiar face.

“Hi Mikasa. Hello Armin, Eren.” You grinned happily as you passed the group. The war maiden was sitting on a large tree stump along the edge of the path. Her ornate shield rested in her lap as she lazily polished it with one hand and bit into a crisp apple with the other.

She was a mercenary that had recently come to work in your village. As an apprentice at Master Connie’s blacksmith shop, you had interacted with the knight many times when she came in to sharpen her sword or shop for some wares. The two of you had grown quite fond of one another’s company and were on friendly terms.

Her dwarven companions sat on either side of her; Eren’s intensely green glare watched you like a hawk while Armin peacefully beamed up at you. Mikasa wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her palm.  Her hand brushed against the bright red headband that held her shortly chopped locks in place.

“Hello Y/N. Lovely to see you.” She greeted, her voice rough with battle experience but as honeyed as the candy the weird woman had tried to tempt you with earlier.

“You too.” You answered, feeling the flames of her firey gaze flushing your cheeks.

“I must say that this gorgeous afternoon is much more beautiful now that you are here.” She sang and flashed you a charmingly captivating smile. As Mikasa spoke, sparrows flitted down from the canopy above to perch along her polished iron shoulder guards. They chirped at the melodic cadence of her voice but soon squawked when she shook them off in annoyance.

The sun was making you borderline sweaty. Yeah, it was definitely the sun.

You nodded in agreement, feeling speechless, and inhaled the fresh pine scent.

“Where are you off to?” Armin piped up while Eren still gave you the stink eye.

“I’m off to my grandmother’s to deliver her some wine and homemade tartes.” You said and patted the top of the basket.

“Would you like me to escort you the rest of the way? It will be dark soon and who knows what wolves or other creatures are lurking in the shadows.” Mikasa offered and stood from the stump. The waning daylight bounced off of her armor and made her look as if she had crafted it out of pure sun rays.

“No, it’s alright. I don’t have that much further to go.” You replied, flattered by her sweet gesture but unwilling to waste her time. Plus you were sure Eren would try to nip at your heels as you walked.

“If you insist. But you’ll have to invite me over soon, okay? I would be honored to taste your cooking.” She said and delicately reached for your hand. She brought it up to her lips and placed a plush kiss to your skin. The fire that was once burning on your face was now rushing through every limb.

“Yes of course!” You stammered bashfully, attempting to portray yourself as unaffected as possible. She chuckled at your reaction and regarded you gracefully.

“Be careful, Y/N. Oh, and tell your stalker of a brother to stop following me into the forest. He’s not the one I want to spend time with.” Mikasa bid you a farewell that left you feeling as if you had drank half of the wine bottle you carried.

“Yeah, or he’s gonna get a knife to the Achilles tendon.” Eren spat aggressively and brandished a cheese knife. You grimaced and turned on your heel to resume your journey.

The remainder of your walk was delightfully uneventful, however, the mistress of time was not favoring you. When dusk began to nestle into the sky you quickened your pace in hopes to beat the celestial blanket to your destination. As you were beginning to trouble yourself with what you could cook that would impress the shield maiden, you arrived at the familiar picketed gates to Oma’s cottage. The calmness of the night almost lulled you into a false sense of security that you rarely felt at this hour.

But it was unusually quiet. Even for nightfall.

Nightfall.

You had broken your and Jean’s golden rule. But you were here now, so it should be okay...right?

None of the usual crickets were singing, none of the usual squirrels were scampering through the freshly fallen leaves, and none of Oma’s usual lights were on.

With your hand placed securely over your dagger, you cautiously approached the residence. You tried to convince yourself that she had gone to bed early, that she was indulging in her pipe on her back porch, or that she had stepped out for a bit to get some last minute ingredients for dinner.

The apprehension in your gut grew as you turned the door knob, only to be met with the door already open. Narrowing your eyes, you proceeded inside. The house was too devoid of light to see if anything was out of the ordinary.

“Oma-” You called tentatively. The only reply was the shrill groaning of her weathered timber under your boots as you shuffled around to find some matches. Your hand sporadically patted down the top of the cabinet she kept in her foyer until your fingers brushed against the match box. You gripped the fire starters and lit the nearest candle. Picking it up by the brass handle, you padded into the living room.

Immediately the viscous stench of iron assaulted your nostrils and caused you to audibly gag. You brought the hand with which you held the candle to your nose instinctively. The illumination this motion created uncovered a pale, delicate hand resting along one of Oma’s armchairs. You gasped in fright, inhaling even more of the putrid smell as you stumbled backwards. The wine bottle wiggled dangerously as you placed your hand on the fireplace shelving to steady yourself.

“WHO’S THERE?” You yelled into the void. Your voice creaked like the floorboards under invisible footfalls that grew closer to your shaking form. In one fluid motion your dagger was unsheathed and held defensively in front of you.

A deep chuckle that was as rich as your wine cut through the shadows.

“Easy with the silver. I’m a friend.” It’s welcome was warm but the voice could not have sounded more frigid.

“Oma doesn’t have any friends.” You declared through ragged breaths. Your head twisted and turned to pinpoint the source of the voice.

“Hm. So the woman who lives here is your oma?” The voice asked ominously.

You swallowed hard and tested the air; cutting through the space in front of you and meeting nothing but emptiness.

“How did you know a woman lives here?” Your inquiry was ended with a sharp inhale as you felt a feather light touch to your shoulder. You were giving yourself whiplash as the voice seemed to be existing within the walls of the house itself.

Was Oma still here? Hiding from this stranger? Or worse…

“A simple guess by the décor.” The voice answered smoothly.

The presence in the room intensified and now you felt palpable forms whirling on all sides of you.

“Where is she?” You demanded, hastily pointing your knife wherever you heard a nefarious laugh or a murmur.

“That is something I would like to know as well. I took time to come all the way out here.” Your mysterious company said.

“It’s awfully late for someone to be traveling alone this far into the woods, don’t you think my dear?” The voice whispered incredibly close to the back of your ear. You startled and turned around, now facing the fireplace and leaving your back tantalizingly exposed.

“Especially for one so-” It continued. Suddenly the pale hand gripped your wrist with such a force that it crippled your palm in pain and made your fingers grow numb. The dagger instantly dropped from your grasp and clattered to the floor.

“Supple.” It cooed. The seductively sinister words slithered under your skin and seeped the oxygen from your lungs. Puffs of icy breath caressed the pulse point of your neck while a nimble hand traveled up your arm that held the candle and raised it to your eye level. You were whipped around and were met with a face accentuated by the soft glow of the candle light.

Your antagonizer took corporeal form in the shape of a man who looked as if he was carved from exquisite marble. His skin was ashen as the stone itself and as flawless as a sculpture. His eyes shown with an argent luster that put your dagger to shame and regarded you with the molten intensity of a forge fire. He drew his face closer to yours ever so slowly.

“Supple indeed.” He praised darkly. His tongue darted languishly along his smirk as if he was already tasting your every feature.

“What did you do to her?” You got out despite the building dread of prey bubbling inside of you. The porcelain man clicked his tongue.

“Absolutely nothing. That’s my problem. That there’s a lack of something to be done.” He explained and continued to smile at you devilishly. He stopped inching towards you once he heard your back hit the fireplace. With nowhere for you to go, he was now able to press his body flush against yours. His leg came to prod at your inner thighs while his hands pinned yours upwards by your wrists. His sharp nails dug into the already tender flesh and threatened to puncture your veins. You let out a cry at the stinging sensation and your mind screamed at you to knee him in the balls.

But you couldn’t move. From the moment his eyes connected with yours, your body fell unresponsive. You couldn’t think a single thought without those silver bullets boring into your brain. Your rapids breaths were constricted against his broad chest as you teetered on the edge of death.

“But I must confess I am quite happy with this outcome.” He said with a satin glee. The last thing you saw before he instantly blew out your candle were the brilliant pearlescent fangs that elongated from his idyllic grin.

You heard a squelching as the flesh below your ear was torn open. It felt as though a flower with scorching petals was placed in the now gaping hole of your neck. Your limbs flailed like one of the chickens Oma placed on the chopping block. The stranger let out a velvety moan that only intensified the burning by sending shockwaves of vibrations across your torso. The longer he drank from your sweet nectar, the paler the flame ran until the pain became as white hot as his complexion.

The man had just begun clenching his jaw to delve in deeper when a gunshot pierced the window in the foyer. Your captor ceased his drinking and listened. He turned his head towards the ruckus with his teeth still embedded with you. Suddenly, a silver arrow flew through the broken glass.

“Come out, vampire. Or I will smoke you out.” A husky voice boomed from the yard. The man retracted his fangs and detached himself from your bleeding neck. The beast chuckled with the crispness of a newborn spring morning. He maneuvered your body so you could walk in front of him with your hands held securely behind your back. You weren’t sure if you even had the strength to use your legs. Walls, did you even still have legs?

“Don’t struggle.” He ordered with a maniacal sing-song to his tone. You barely registered his command. The draining sensation of your bodily fluids freshly leaving you left you feeling like an overused blood bag. Your eyes widened as he began shuffling you to the doorway.

“No-I can’t go-” Your voice cracked as you mediocrely attempted to grab at his arms. You stumbled into his chest as your legs struggled to work properly. He showed no signs of stopping as he continued to walk to the entryway.

“Please…” You pleaded weakly as the rising moonlight peeked through the crevasses of the front door.

The vampire kicked down the door with one fluid motion. The hunter was stationed in the main walkway of your grandmother’s front yard, crossbow loaded and aimed directly at the two of you. His leather tailcoat flapped along the gentle breeze and the bullet casings that rested along his chest reflected the cool gray of the stars.

“We finally are reunited.” The hunter spat. His weapon tracked the vampire’s every movement with the precision of a seasoned expert as he dragged you out further into the yard.

“Smith.” The stranger greeted the hunter like an old friend. He smiled, revealing teeth coated in your thick blood that dribbled down his chin like tumbling rubies.

“Ackerman.” The hunter replied in a hardened tone. “It’s a shame that you resorted to your old delicacies.”

Ackerman hummed and licked the front of his teeth, sighing in satisfaction as he reveled in your metallic palate.

“Squirrels just didn't satisfy me.” He snickered and walked his pointed fingers up your shoulder. A single digit entered your gaping wound and swirled in your juices. You shuddered at the needle-like pressure.  Smith’s prominent brow furrowed in disgust when Ackerman brought his finger to his mouth and sucked.

“Drop the girl, she’s almost dead anyway.” Smith said, his stance unwavering.

“Want my leftovers, eh?” Ackerman laughed. “I guess I only ever see you by the light of the moon so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of us.”

In your delirium you had begun disconnecting yourself from reality. But the vampire’s last phrase kept the final, unspooling thread from snapping. You heaved your neck sideways with the remaining strength you harbored to gaze up at Ackerman. His lips were as red as a summer cherry and his skin looked even more iridescent next to the moon. He looked like he could have fallen from the celestial body itself.

The moon.

The instant your eyes gazed upon its circumferential radiance your pupils dilated as the lunar rays rocketed into your eye sockets.

The full moon.

Be back before nightfall.

You can’t afford to just be careful.

Your brother's words echoed in your mind as the moon began bathing you in luminous ivory pain.

“Oh no.” You whimpered. You squeezed out a wail as the searing ripping of your joints elongating and reconnecting overtook your entire being. The convulsions of your body caused Levi to release you from his grip with a hiss. The vampire hunter and hunted could only watch as you hunched over agony with freshly punctured claws raking through Oma’s neat lawn. Coarse hair soon sprouted out of your exposed skin and your strained cries grew octaves lower. The buttons of your dress flew free with crisp pops and the seams of your poor dress were pulled apart by your bulging muscles. Your jaw unhinged and lengthened until your face resembled the wolves that Milky-White used to chase from your chicken coop.

Your tortuous yelps suddenly mingled with a deafening gun shot from the gate.

“What in the Peter Piper’d fuck is going on at my house?” Oma hollered, rifle pointed at the sky, as you let a howl pierce through the night.

Suddenly you were jolting awake and pawing at the sheets. Your heart was beating erratically as you shakily brought your hands to your lap.

They looked blissfully normal.

You heard shuffling from outside of the bedroom and Levi was soon standing in the doorway with concern mapping his face.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asked in minor alarm as he came to sit next to you. He was already in his harnesses and uniform so you gaged it must have been early morning. Levi’s eyes searched your clammy form for any signs of outward distress. You sighed in relief seeing your usual pillows, usual closet, usual bathroom, and most importantly; usual Levi.

It had all felt so real.

“I’m fine, Levi. I just had the strangest dream though.” You exhaled as you came down from the high of your slumbered adventure.

“I think your weird dreams stress you out more than being a squad leader does.” Levi chuckled as he ran a gentle hand along your back. You closed your eyes and revealed in the peaceful feeling of his palm along your night shirt. It was a stark contrast to the gory fantasy you just emerged from.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He added with more seriousness in his voice.

You just stared at him. He stared right back, blinking blankly as you analyzed his features. Your hands reached up and took his jaw between your hands. Your thumbs lightly pushed up the corners of his upper lip to reveal his teeth. Levi made a noise of complaint but didn’t swat you away. You leaned in closer to check his canines for any vampiric qualities. When you were assured they were of normal length, you pulled back satisfied.

“Nope, I’m good.” You smiled and planted a quick peck to his lips before jumping out of bed to get ready for the day. Levi watched you pad into the bathroom as he felt his teeth in confusion.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Eren looked at you nervously as you eyed him from your place behind him in line to get lunch. He looked down at you and gulped.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked apprehensively. You narrowed your eyes and placed your hand level with the top of your head. You brought it straight out towards Eren, hitting him square in the forehead.

“You’ve always been taller than me, right?” You questioned, looking from your hand down to his feet.

“Uh, yeah.” He confirmed, regarding you suspiciously. He fidgeted with the sides of his plate as you puffed your cheeks in contemplation. Finally you nodded in satisfaction.

“Do you own a cheese knife?”

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Hange, have you ever thought about owning a candy shop?”

“Y/N. Why would I do that when I barely have time to analyze the retinal samples from Bean’s eye?”

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“You’re dismissed, Y/N.” Erwin’s parting smile betrayed the professionalism of his order. You bowed your head respectfully and walked to the doors to his office. Your fingers dusted over the brass handle but hesitated to grab it. You turned back towards your commander and paused.

When Erwin didn’t hear you leave, he looked up from his desk.

“Is there something else you need, Y/N?” He asked.

You stared at him long enough to lace his brow in slight concern. His coat was the same length, same color, same style as your own.

“I-I like your coat.” You laughed nervously and threw him an awkward grin. Before he had the chance to answer you had bowed your head and hurried out the door.

“Thank...you?”

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Today it seemed like you were playing errand girl more than squad leader. You questioned why you even put on these chafing harnesses as you ferried yet another stack of documents back to your office.

“Hi Y/N, do you want to get dinner together later? I still have some tartes too that I bought when we were in town last.” Mikasa smiled at you as she passed you in the hall. You involuntarily began blushing furiously.

“Definitely, I’ll see you in a couple hours!” You sputtered as you hurried down the hall, slapping your cheeks as you went.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Jean.” You called, looking up from the paperwork that littered your desk. The boy who was lazily sprawled out on your office couch hummed into his book.

“We’ve never owned a cow together, right?”

“What the fuck?”

[obeyme-kaidii]

Obey Me Tips

General Obey Me Gameplay Advice

I really love Obey Me. Really really really love it. I love the characters and the stories, and I really love the fan content that’s been created for it. I’ve never been involved in a fandom before, but I have to say it’s pretty amazing finding like minded people to interact and share these things with. I’m not brave enough to write fanfic, but I can give game play advice and do math, so that’s why I write these guides.☺️

My advice here is either from personal experience or because I did the research and the math so I could figure out the answer. I’ll always have proof to back up my assertions, if you’d like to see for yourself if my theories hold water. (I’ve even started a free account on my iPad just so I can thoroughly test all my recommendations from the perspective of a non-paid player.)

Please keep in mind that my advice is geared towards players that view finishing the normal mode lessons/main story as their priority. You may prefer to collect outfits or bloom all your favorite cards, and that’s quite alright too.

So without any further ado, here are my general gameplay tips and advice.

An ideal team consists of 3 Demon cards and 3 Memory cards per type.

But a team with only 2 Demon cards and 2 Memory cards per type is also viable for the normal mode lessons at this stage in the game (up to lesson 40).

This is because of the 2.6x type boost for primary types and 1.9x type boost for secondary types per level. The boost only applies to the cards that match the types on that level - so on a level with Envy as its primary type, the Envy stat on your Envy cards will receive the 2.6x boost.

So while that 2.6x boost is pretty awesome, the 1.9x boost is nothing to scoff at either. And if you have 2 Demon and 2 Memory cards of each type, then you can guarantee that all of your cards will receive some sort of boost on all the new levels.

For the first season of levels (lessons 1 - 20), you can get by with just a single team of 3 Demon cards and 3 Memory cards because the type boost for those levels works differently and applies to all cards, not just the ones that match the types for the level.

(And don’t forget you can only use 1 Demon card per brother on a single team. So if you have two Greed cards, but they are both Mammon, you’ll only be able to use one Mammon at a time. Don’t waste your time powering up both of them.)

Powering your cards up evenly is the best way to advance in the game.

I don’t know how it got started, but at some point everyone became convinced that the best way to advance was to work on a single card at a time. And that’s simply not true. In fact, it’s pretty bad advice if I’m being honest.

Things get more expensive as your cards get stronger and you get less strength for the effort. When you level your cards evenly you’re able to get more strength combined for the amount of Grimm you spend.

(If you’d like to see the math on this, I have a whole 4 part series that breaks it down bit by bit packed with examples.)

This advice applies to stars too. Bring all your cards for your teams to 1 star, then 2 stars etc. Sometimes you’ll already have the mats on hand to unlock more stars on cards of certain types, and that’s totally cool and fine to do. But when you are short on mats and trying to figure out what to work towards next, remember to strengthen your weaker cards first.

Use Grimm to level up your cards.

You do receive a small portion of experience in battles that will help your cards gain levels. But because of the mechanics of the battles and how long they take, I really don’t recommend grinding them for experience to save a few Grimm.

Maybe if you had a ton of free time and nothing better to do, I guess? But it’s just not worth the trouble to me. I think it would be a better use of your time to use the “x3” or “x5” button and just get it over with, and then go read some smutty fanfics, where you get pounded by the demon(s) of your choice. 🙃

It is worth mentioning though that the addition of the “SKIP” feature for battles where you overpower your opponent by a large margin makes it much easier to earn experience through battles, but you’ll still occasionally be given a Surprise Guest to entertain. It’s up to you to decide if that delay is worth the experience.

Stars are overrated.

I already mentioned how for most of the game my cards only had 3 stars. And that’s because the amount of time and effort you have to spend to farm hard mode materials in pretty crazy. It’s just not worth the effort to get hung up on them. You’ll quickly find yourself struggling to advance if you get distracted by the stars.

You’re better off doing events to get new cards and waiting for Levi’s Otaku Bootcamp to roll around, and doing the hard mode battles then. And if you just absolutely have to have some hard mode mats - buy the extra levels from the current event so at least you can get extra event points (and thus more rewards).

Only spend your Demon Vouchers in sets of 10.

That guarantee of getting 1 SSR card is pretty gosh darn important especially for free players that don’t have DV to waste. I know it’s tempting to spend them as you earn them, but try to resist the temptation. My biggest regret is that I didn’t spend my DV more wisely when I first started.

Don’t waste your DV on Chapter A.

Besides the UR cards, all of the cards in Chapter A can be won in the event Nightmares. So unless you really really want one of the OG Demon UR cards (which I admit, they are all pretty awesome), don’t do it. And if there is a specific UR card you want, you should try to wait until the birthday event for that demon for a better chance at getting that specific UR card (assuming they continue the pattern of releasing birthday Nightmares for all the brothers).

Invest in Chapter M when you get the chance (be sure to use 10 DV at a time).

This is important to free players especially because it’s the best way to get Memory cards. Odds are you won’t be able to get enough points for the new events to win the SSR or UR Memory cards so you’ll have to get them somewhere.

(Replaying the old events in Lonely Devil is also another good option because the rewards were much cheaper and easier to acquire than they are now.)

Don’t neglect your Memory cards.

I really cannot emphasize this enough. I know they give less strength than the Demon cards, but they are still really important in terms of not only strength, but also their special skills that can boost your strength during a dance battle (or hinder your opponent).

Glow sticks are amazing.

I love glow sticks. I always try to use the type specific glow sticks first, and save my rainbow glow sticks for when the type specific ones aren’t enough. And if you’re a free player, the rainbow ones are arguably the best way to spend your Raven.

But please don’t waste your glow sticks. If you can’t beat a level after 1 shot, take a break and look at how you can strengthen your team before trying again. You’ll be surprised at how much easier it’ll be to advance if you just add 5 levels to a card on your team whenever you get stuck.

Rainbow glow sticks - grant you a 30% boost to the Strength of the card you equip it to

Single color glow sticks - grant you a 10% boost to the Strength of the card you equip it to

If you are 10,000 strength stronger than your opponent, you have a really good chance of winning with 2 stars.

If you go for 20,000 - 30,000 strength over your opponent, it’s pretty much a guarantee at getting 3 stars.

There are exceptions to this where special skills come into play (especially in boss battles), but this has been my experience when advancing through the normal levels.

If a level is giving you trouble, try to counter the opponent’s special skills.

This was especially important for the boss battle with Diavolo at the end of Lesson 40. His combination of skills was absolutely brutal.

My original recommended team was over 50,000S above Diavolo’s S and I barely filled the bar halfway. But when I switched to a team that focused on countering all of his skills, I was able to win with a considerably weaker team.

(Yep, you’re reading that right. Beel was only level 10.)

The cards with the Abilities that can counter these skills are found in the new event Nightmares. Both the UR cards and the SSR card will have whatever the featured Ability is. The SSR cards will simply neutralize the opponent’s skill when it’s activated, but the UR cards “reflect” the skill back to your opponent so that they are cursed instead.

Only buy DV from the 99 DP offers that are available when you level up.

Or during special sales like Solomon’s Summoning Sale. Or specific packages in Mammon’s Rip-off Sale.

Sometimes you’ll need to spend some DP because you have no DV left and really want a chance at a specific card, but try to avoid doing so as much as possible. Your DV and DP will go further and last longer if you save and spend it wisely. This is especially important for free players who have to balance card collecting with building stronger teams.

Whenever you have Grimm to spare, dump it into Chapter G.

This will be your primary way to earn Raven. And Raven is a great way to buy rainbow glow sticks, additional Demon Vouchers, and now even card pieces for certain SSR and UR cards.

They also have the outfits for all the brothers demon forms which are pretty neat. I do own them all, but that’s not exactly necessary and definitely not the best use of Raven. 😂

If you need friends for the daily AP, just add all the top players from the current event.

The top players are the ones most likely to be active, and know how to use the feature to add friends. (Let’s not talk about how long it took me to figure that out when I first started playing, ok? Lol) So they’ll be the ones most likely to accept your friend request and send you AP daily.

On my free account, I just started at rank 1 and sent requests to everyone down to about rank 200 or so until I had 50 friends. And then whenever I had some new spots open up, I’d do the same thing again. I’d also check my Friends Request section to see if I had any new requests from other active players.

Oh, and I periodically remove friends that haven’t played in over 2 weeks. No sense in keeping them on my friends list when there are plenty of new people and active players who could use the free AP and send me some as well.

That’s all I’ve got for now! I hope these tips help you out some if you ever find yourself stuck and uncertain as what to do next. ❤️

[rigelmejo]

march - just some thoughts

i have read more this month than any other month? and its not slowing down its only 3/12 so i have 2/3 of a month to go and i’ve read 26 chapters. even if these chapters are ‘short’ at 10 pages, if i wanna count by ‘20 page’ chunks i’ve still read 13 chunks so far. and i’ve still got more time in the month left. most other months i’ve managed to read ‘a lot’ i read 10-20 chapters. so i’m doing really good.

grammar is a weird thing? in reading i feel like its quite easy now to understand. when listening or watching - same. and yet if asked ‘why do i say/type X’ or ‘why is it written/spoken like X’ i have absolutely no explanation in my head. i could not explain the grammar if prompted. this puts me in a weird place and i feel like i SHOULD go over a grammar guide again just so i can WORD what i’m intuitively understanding.

this is a bit bizarre to me because within the first 6 months of study i DID read through an entire grammar guide just to get an idea of what i was about to look at, and it hardly made sense once actually reading/watching/listening. i understood the guide fine, but actually Seeing chinese i was still confused. i would reference AllSetLearning’s Chinese Wiki on some basic points, then after 6 months i just stopped. now its been what 1.5 years and - reading is so easy, listening is so easy, grammar wise. none of the grammar confuses me. but i no longer ‘explicitly’ have any idea what the fuck the grammar is. i used to. i studied it explicitly before trying to read/listen. and yet now that i can read/listen, i have no idea how to explain the grammar. i can listen to a podcast and i don’t think about what the grammar is i just get it. i read and just know what i’m looking at. its like english - i cannot fucking explain it. Which makes speaking/writing a bit hard. Because when i try to check if i’m right i have no fucking clue HOW anymore - i just say/write what comes to mind and HOPE it makes sense. i have no way to conciously check for errors except ‘does this feel right’? And that’s not good enough for me lol. So I definitely do need to eventually read a grammar guide for explicit explanations again.

Technically I think “English and Chinese Grammar Side By Side” grammar book would be an excellent one to use. Because i read the first 50 pages of it and it compared it to english (so it explained english too), and it was very easy to understand and started basic then got more involved. 

I’m probably gonna use my very old Chinese Grammar Self Taught by Thimm book instead. Just because I really like that book. Then I guess use another after (probably Basic Chinese Sentence Patterns since its modern and perfect for ‘catch your own mistakes’ study and much shorter than Eng+Chinese Grammar side by side). 

Anyway I’m in a very weird place right now lol. I know i’m understanding grammar that is stuff I never even studied initially in the grammar guide, but unable to explain what it is, and a lot of stuff i did explicitly study in a grammar guide i completely forgot the explanation for. My reading and listening is GREAT, because all my effort only has to go into learning new words lately! its relaxing! Its the only part i need to do! But my writing/speaking i am very concerned about because being able to check myself for mistakes is something i’d like the ability to do.

how grammar is presented really makes a difference in how well i get it. there is some serious benefit to ‘show simple first then build up what you know’ that text books tend to prefer. versus like grammar reference books that may start with some in depth stuff.

i tried to read a japanese grammar guide the other day and 1 it was great but 2 it covered some ADVANCED stuff i never learned in genki 1+2, and so it was Explicit grammar description of stuff i had literally years ago been immersing in japanese and Still not conciously known about. So i felt. Overwhelmed lol. I felt so confused. I feel like I might switch to Tae Kim’s grammar guide primarily just because its structured with basics covered first. and i feel like until the basics are again glued into my brain, seeing even more advanced stuff just confused me so much i had no idea how to remember it. which is funny because? my usual strategy with grammar guides is to just read it and let what sticks stick and what is confusing be moved on from, in the hope i will later see it again and understand it better. so like based on what i usually do i should’ve just been able to read through it (and i’m gonna try anyway lol). but truly japanese grammar just... my mind does not like wrapping around it and remembering it. (chinese grammar is so much easier for me... so much easier....;-; )

i have been tempted to just Restart Nukemarine’s LLJ (Lets Learn Japanese) memrise decks, because I KNOW they worked for me last time really really well. And they include Tae Kim grammar lessons. And I know if i did it then maybe i’d get back to where i was years ago pretty fast.

I tried Earthlingo app. Its a cool idea, I don’t think its worth it though unless you planned to get Rosetta Stone (since Earthlingo is FREE). Earthlingo features 1000 words per language, taught to you by exploring video game worlds as an alien. Its a cool concept, but since all words seem to be nouns then you aren’t even learning the most common verbs/adjectives. And 1000 words is not a lot. And you could learn 1000 quite fast if using srs flashcards like Memrise or Anki (think weeks if you push yourself, and a month or two months if going at a regular pace). Earthlingo you have to slowly explore the worlds so that eats time, you have to choose to test yourself (so you don’t review nearly as often as flashcard apps), and one test includes walking around the world clicking the object which you’re given the word for (takes time to find the right object). All this means a word that might take maybe 15 minutes to study over a few weeks, might instead take much longer to study and learn. I don’t use duolingo because it generally covers so few words (usually 2000-4000 i think which is good for a beginner resource but you have to do the WHOLE course to get to all those words and i take so long on duolingo that could take YEARS for me versus a month on a flashcard app or clozemaster). Duolingo I also don’t use because it very slowly paces learning material (it takes me months/years to get through 1000 words on duolingo - just personally i go so slow on it, i think faster people would find a use for it). Likewise Lingodeer takes me AGES to get through (and i think covers 2000 words nowadays? I’m shocked Duolingo has more words for the japanese course tbh). However, Lingodeer is by far the best ‘app’ for Japanese grammar lessons in app practice form. Even if basically all the apps feel pretty slow to me in how fast they give you new info. Earthlingo is cool that its free, and for learners 12 and under i think it would be super useful as a way to engage them and keep them studying (since what child likes flashcards? whereas as a child i would’ve loved this). But as an adult Earthlingo is sooooo slow on how fast you can learn words, and it does not even offer very many words (1000 is a nice bare minimum but without verbs/adjectives it can only be a supplementary learning tool for beginners at best).

Link about Lingodeer having 2000 words in a course. (Since its SO hard to lookup how much vocabulary lingodeer includes :c )

Nukemarine’s LLJ memrise decks (which I’m considering going through again but ToT agh flashcardssssss.... they sure do work though agh)

http://www.chinese-grammar.com/beginner/ - this is the site I read a chinese grammar guide on at like Month 3. I am rereading it now maybe it will help me remember wtf grammar explicitly is. ToT (A tip, read Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced sections). Last time I visited the site you just clicked a section, then saw each fully explained grammar point and clicked ‘next’ it was nice. Now its laid out a little less ideal for me, but its still got all the same nice info! (Also honestly if you are a beginner I really DO like this grammar guide... it introduces basic info first, gradually gets more complex, and i could follow its logic knowing like 200 hanzi and 100 words ToT. its very easy to understand even if it takes a while to apply that info).

im probably gonna read hanshe more today. i’m at the point where either i know enough vocab, or the writers style has just ‘clicked’ idk. but now i just am not getting bogged down by unknown words and am just. speeding through enjoying the plot. Also rip me this novel has 155 chapters and im only on chapter 30.

watching japanese lets plays is really fun! i feel like im 3 years old cause i just see nouns i can learn pretty easy in context cause i know the game well, and hear some vaguely familiar verbs, but its fun! also it helps i know kingdom hearts 2 like by heart so. a lot of it makes me instantly cheerful and nostalgic. roxas’s voice is so cute in the japanese version.

oh i almost forgot: I found a book recently for chinese that for it’s like 10 page grammar guide summary at the beginning ALONE i think is more than worth the 4 dollars it costs to get. It has a ton of compound words and its a reference book in mandarin and cantonese (it has pronunciation for both, all characters are in traditional). I got it initally because it as a bunch of compound words and I’d like to get better at knowing a lot of common ones. But the intro to the book has a page explaining sentence structures in chinese, then examples. Its so straightforward and to the point. I love it. The book is “Understanding Chinese: A Guide to the Usage of Chinese Characters” by Rita Mei-Wah Choy. (There is also a companion book for individual hanzi, which is nice but this book specifically I’m finding more useful).

what i really like about Listening-Reading method, and reading, as study activities: no matter how I do them it is only improvement. I have a tendency to ‘redo’ material i don’t feel i fully mastered, or refuse to move on. So when i have duolingo, flashcards (sometimes i can move on if i ignore reviews/make myself do new stuff), books, grammar guides, self guided classes - i have a tendency to redo the material. over and over. and not progress and challenge myself. whereas with reading - every time i look up a word its useful because its new or something i clearly Need to review (not something i’ve actually learned and can move past reviewing). so whether i reread material or read new stuff, as long as i run into things i find somewhat challenging (feel the desire to word look up), i know i am running into new material i can learn. Same with listening-reading method: whether i finish a book or just skip to random books, any new chapter i do will give me new words to learn/remember (until i’ve reached a point of perfect listening comprehension which is a WAYS away). There’s no way for me to mess it up. I can give up a book im bored with, i don’t have to stick to one resource to the end. 

someone tell me why professionally made chinese audio books almost NEVER line up to the chapters???? whyyyyy ;-;

Even More Notes lol:

So I read so much in Pleco, which auto pronounces, I have COMPLETELY forgot. 得 地 - for these two, when they’re attached after a description like 淡淡 慢慢 高兴 etc, when are they pronounced di versus de???? i’m pretty sure  得 is pronounced de when its an adjective like ‘-ly’. but for  地, i don’t remember if when part of a describer if its pronounced di or de????

[pepperful-qt]

Can you do fluff prompt #9 for Komori?? Congrats on 200!

Komori💞💞💞 yES please ! also sakusa cameo bc i miss him and he's hilarious. also also ik this isn't news but I have no idea what a drabble is 🙃 it's not this though

❈ 200 Event ❈

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

» fluff 9: “Are we on a date right now?”

◈ length: ~850 don’t look at me

⊱ ━━━━

Summer Sweet

Komori Motoya x Reader

⊱ ━━━━

Blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds and a gentle breeze to lessen the heat of the afternoon summer sun made for perfect walking weather. It was all too tempting to take advantage of chances like these, especially when your companions, Komori and Sakusa, finally had a day off from their constant volleyball training. The invite notification from the former filled you with a similar warm bliss as the sun above you, as you noticed they did quite frequently as of late.  

Pleasant conversation flowed easily between you and Komori as you walked while Sakusa hung back with sparse contributions, as usual. You rested now at a table in a pocket of shade outside an ice cream shop that you’d stumbled across. You both huddled over his phone and scrolled through the excessive number of photos he’d taken that day. Komori would make you laugh with a joke or teasing remark, the sound coercing a shy grin from the libero every time he heard it. Once he earned a playful smack when he revealed a candid unflattering photo of you, but he assured you that you looked great no matter how sweaty or blurry. Whether it was the company or the sweet taste of your treats, smiles seemed to be permanently glued to your faces.

Sakusa, however, was less than pleased. 

His tiny cup of ice cream sat on the table in front of him, untouched. Truthfully, it looked more like soup now. Underneath his mask his nose scrunched distastefully when you sampled each others’ cones seemingly without a care in the world. He shifted his seething glare between it and the two of you, who remained blissfully unaware of his annoyance. Normally Komori would notice his irritation, or else he would vocalize those feelings. The only reason he spared his cousin now was out of some remaining modicum of respect for him.

Just friends, sure. 

An opportunity finally appeared when you excused yourself to use the restroom after finishing your cone. Komori placed his chin in his palm with a content smile as he watched you vanish into the store. His eyes then fell to Sakusa’s ice cream soup.

“Sakusa, uh, your ice cream…” When he looked up, his cousin, who hadn’t even bothered lowering his mask or removing his hands from the pockets of his jacket, or showed any other inclination to eat for that matter, was drilling him with a look of utter disgust. Komori’s shock was brief before he simply sighed. “What’s the matter? We’re leaving soon, just--”

“Why am I here?” Sakusa grumbled, his voice in its usual low monotone. Komori cocked his head to the side.

“Huh? What do you mean? We always hang out like this.” He attempted a cheerful smile, but he gained no reaction other than Sakusa rolling his eyes in a painfully slow motion.

“This is the third time you’ve dragged me on one of your dates in less than a month.”

“Oh, come on, I know you--” Komori blinked once as the words fully processed. “Wait, date?! This isn’t--it’s not--what do you mean by that?!” He was almost completely red at this point, holding a hand over his mouth. 

After several excruciating seconds of silence, Sakusa just squinted at him before standing up without a word, his chair screeching against the pavement.

“Wait, where are you going?!” 

“Leaving.”

“Oi, the least you could do is take your trash with you, you jerk!” Komori called after him in an effort to suppress the beating of his heart, though there was still a slight tremor in his voice. However, his words fell on deaf ears as Sakusa disappeared from view without so much as a wave of acknowledgement. 

“Hey, I’m back!” You reappeared all too suddenly and glanced around curiously. “Oh, where did Sakusa go?” 

“y/n!” Komori shot to his feet, wetting his now dry lips nervously when you looked back at him startled. He could practically feel the red growing on his cheeks. Best to bite the bullet now, I suppose. “Is this a date?” 

You stared at him with wide eyes and blinked a few times.

“Huh?” was all you said, unsure if you’d misheard him.. Though taking in the seriousness behind his typically kind eyes and the visible blush dusting his features, you knew you hadn’t. Oh. “A date?” 

“Well, yeah,” Komori chuckled, albeit a bit dryly. His fingers were restlessly fiddling with the wrapper left over by his cone between his fingers, and his eyes flicked between you and the table. “N-not that I’d normally want Sakusa joining on a date or anything. I just--the thought popped into my head and, uh…”  

He trailed off again into nervous laughter, but this time you joined him.

“Do you want it to be?” 

Komori jerked his head to finally look at you. Your hands mimicked his, fidgeting, and your flushed face felt like it mirrored his as well, but the smile you wore was earnest. The tickling feeling that nagged his stomach for so long at last grew into a final burst of confidence.

“If that’s alright with you.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, stepping forward and hesitating before taking his hand in yours. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

༻✦༺ 

[luluwquidprocrow]

and i’ve written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones

originally posted: august 25th, 2019

word count: 13,060 words

rated: not rated

beatrice/bertrand/lemony

heavy angst,  canon compliant,  with enough canon divergence that makes the canon compliance worse,  epistolary

summary:

and if you don’t love me, let me go.

[a much less than 200 pages break up letter.]

opening notes:

title from the engine driver by the decemberists

.

By the time you read this

I guess an at least interesting description of us could be like ships passing in the night

I think now is

I think now might be the time for us to

First of all, I have canceled my subscription to the Daily Punctilio, which was just a good move on my part to begin with, and second of all, I couldn’t believe all that anyway, but third of all, do you know, Lemony

You’ll think me such a damn hypocrite, won’t you.

Why now? Why would I

Why would you do this now?

My Heart and I

I.

ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I.

We sit beside the headstone thus,

And wish that name were carved for us.

The moss reprints more tenderly

The hard types of the mason's knife,

As heaven's sweet life renews earth's life

With which we're tired, my heart and I.

II.

You see we're tired, my heart and I.

We dealt with books, we trusted men,

And in our own blood drenched the pen,

As if such colours could not fly.

We walked too straight for fortune's end,

We loved too true to keep a friend ;

At last we're tired, my heart and I.

III.

How tired we feel, my heart and I !

We seem of no use in the world ;

Our fancies hang grey and uncurled

About men's eyes indifferently ;

Our voice which thrilled you so, will let

You sleep; our tears are only wet :

What do we here, my heart and I ?

IV.

So tired, so tired, my heart and I !

It was not thus in that old time

When Ralph sat with me 'neath the lime

To watch the sunset from the sky.

Dear love, you're looking tired,' he said;

I, smiling at him, shook my head :

'Tis now we're tired, my heart and I.

V.

So tired, so tired, my heart and I !

Though now none takes me on his arm

To fold me close and kiss me warm

Till each quick breath end in a sigh

Of happy languor. Now, alone,

We lean upon this graveyard stone,

Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I.

VI.

Tired out we are, my heart and I.

Suppose the world brought diadems

To tempt us, crusted with loose gems

Of powers and pleasures ? Let it try.

We scarcely care to look at even

A pretty child, or God's blue heaven,

We feel so tired, my heart and I.

VII.

Yet who complains ? My heart and I ?

In this abundant earth no doubt

Is little room for things worn out :

Disdain them, break them, throw them by

And if before the days grew rough

We once were loved, used, — well enough,

I think, we've fared, my heart and I.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who knew what she was talking about

My Dearest Darling,

You call me a lot of things but, to be perfectly frank (not Ernest), Lemony, I think I’ve always liked that one the least. There was that summer where, among other things, Bertrand was trying to come up with nicknames for us in that charming way of his, and he came up with a real mess of awful nicknames and then I came up with the list we could Never Repeat In Public (capitals necessary) and then you said something very sweet to both of us, and anyway, we know what happened there, but the point of this is that you held us close and said, very seriously, that you would never ever ever ever ever (for the span of what I’d figure would be maybe two pages, short but evenly-spaced), no matter what happened, call Bertrand ‘Bert’ and that was damn good of you because Bertrand is not a Bert and never will be. We were right to veto Bertie, as well. He is a Bertrand, through and through. The other point was that you wound up calling us nicknames too but dearest darling was maybe the worst of all of them. Bea was my favorite. I liked the way you said it and I liked the way it sounded and I felt noble perfect unstoppable invincible worried fragile good when you said it. And that was good.

Speaking of, right now, Bertrand is with Kit, and don’t worry, they’re not talking about you (I know how you worry). They’re talking about boats and maps and cooking spices and Widdershins will probably come by later to give them both his version of A Stern Talking To (capitals debatable) about open water expeditions, which will probably be something like, ‘Fire this harpoon at anything suspicious! Aye! Shoot first and ask questions later! Aye!’ and it’s a real miracle that man doesn’t have a whole boatload of albatrosses hanging around somewhere. (Unless he does, and I just haven’t seen it.)

Bertrand and I—well, we’ve kept the house up. Even though he has that thing for natural light, you know what I mean. But we’ve managed to decorate it nicely. I got the Gothic Furniture (capitals required), he got his large windows, there is a last unopened root beer bottle in the fridge because every time we look at it both of us think about how you said it’s impolite to take the last one, and I thought, maybe I’d save it for when you came back but I don’t

The last thing I want is to

Bertrand and I, we’re going out to dinner tonight, because we’re still not all that comfortable with the kitchen yet. I mean, why did we get such a fancy kitchen? I’m sure one of these days I’ll come around to it and it’ll be fine but right now it’s, it seems a hassle, I guess. So we’re going out and I’ve already decided that I’m going to order this truly egregious amount of pasta and no one will stop me!

We don’t really have any plans for tomorrow. As it stands right now. We’ve both been sort of taking things as they come lately. Bertrand, Bertrand’s been very busy. Both of us have been busy, but I think he’s been trying to keep his mind occupied. A lot of us have. Even Hector looks more concerned than he usually does. I saw him the other day—not here, in town—and I didn’t think it was possible for Hector to look that harried. So much has been happening lately, I feel like even I haven’t had time to catch my breath, even in this part of the city. It’s like everything’s been going a mile a minute, taking me with it, and the moments where it stops, the moments where I have the time to think, are unbearably, agonizingly slow. But most of my life has been like that, you know.

And I know, I know you are too. Busy. And concerned.

I know.

When you

Did you

The last performance of our play was three days ago. Since the Daily Punctilio doesn’t have a theater section anymore, Bertrand and I haven’t been reading any rave reviews but we were rereading but, what can you do. Geraldine’s moved on to some other column now too, something about, I don’t even know, tax evasion? Shoes? I can never understand a single thing she writes. Even that ‘Secret Organizations You Should Know About’ thing didn’t even pan out, can you believe that? All she did was write about Esmé! All that trouble for

It looks like it’ll be the last play for a while. I know they wanted us to go on longer, but, well, that’s how it has to be. Don’t know what I’m going to do with myself without a script to lug around, but I’ll probably memorize something for kicks. Gilda Farrell’s lines, maybe, that’d be fun.

But it’d be better if you

This is really the first time I’ve had one of those unbearably slow moments in a while, and of course the first thing I think of is you. You and Bertrand have always filled those gaps for me, but now it’s different. It’s just

I saw Jacques the other day and he

Ramona’s the only one who hasn’t been so

I want to see you so much, Lemony. With everything I have, I want you with me, and I keep hoping that if I close my eyes, when I open them again, there you’ll be, alive and well and next to me and real. Or I’ll walk away from my desk and this letter and when I look back it’ll all have been a bad dream, the worst nightmare I keep stopping and hoping and when you’re not there and I’m still here I

I don’t know how to do this. I can’t

I didn’t want to do it like this.

I don’t want you to I’m, burying the lede, or doing any of this on purpose or anything, because by now you’ve definitely noticed how long this is (although, personally, I’m only at the beginning, but I have a feeling this is going to get long—I know I’ve said I could run laps around the city in the time it takes you to finish a single metaphor but between the two of us we both know I could go on for much longer and will), and you have a vague idea, or a concrete idea, or an idea you don’t want to think about, of where I’m going to go with this. If it was something simple it wouldn’t be like this. If I was just, telling you the news, I wouldn’t need so much time, and I need so much of it. I’m setting the stage trying to making sure I wanted to I can’t just

I am a weak woman, Lemony Snicket. And that is a complete lie, you and I know, but I am a weak woman and I don’t want to be but my hands are shaking.

You and I. You and I know so many things.

So why should we

We both know how to make Ramona laugh, and the right amount of sugar for Olivia’s tea, and where Jacques will be on Tuesdays even though he pretends he doesn’t keep a regular schedule, and where Monty has his keys stashed in his garden, and everything possible about Bertrand, including what book he’s reading right now even though you haven’t been home in two months (it’s still that cat book because he says he wants to see the look on your face when he reads it out loud after dinner) (it’s still that cat book), and what kind of records Kit wants for her birthday even though she never has the time to play them, and even what Esmé is going to eat tomorrow because would you believe that herring is still in, to her continued consternation. She can talk all she wants about how good herring is but I still see that look on her face when she eats it! Every meal, Lemony! I’m giggling as we speak and I wish you could see her because it is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen in my LIFE

Maybe those things are superficial, but they’re things we know about people, about ourselves, and that counts, doesn’t it? And—and I know what you look like when you wake up and I know what you look like when you’re fixing your typewriter and I have to help and I know what you look like when you think I’m not looking at you, and there was a time where that meant you didn’t look like everyone you knew had just died. You know what I look like at my worst, the worst I ever let you see. You knew it anyway. You It was enough.

And Bertrand. I know I’ve said it before but, you and I were so lucky. Lots of good things came from of this, right? The three of us, you and me and Bertrand. Our apartment and that wallpaper we took down in Bertrand’s when he moved out of his, with those horrendous yellow stripes. The cat we pretended to have and the elaborate medical history we made for it so we’d all have an excuse to go home early. (That poor cat, though. I don’t think it would’ve been possible for it to really survive like that. We should be better to our imaginary pets next time in the future.) Watching Bertrand dance to my records, which was terrible because we hadn’t taught him to dance yet. Trying out those new recipes. Keeping the windows open in the summer. The diner down the street, the ice cream shop on the corner, that night it rained and we all stayed outside and got soaking wet because why not? Bertrand making that excessive amount of soup the next day. You telling us we were the only things that mattered. Bertrand would push your hair out of your face when you were sleeping and I wanted to watch that for the rest of my life. I wanted it to be the last thing I ever saw.

Those moments, every moment. Reading in the dark, losing my glasses, you stopped dead the first time we were out with Bertrand and he was under a streetlamp and you both looked so beautiful and you kissed him for the first time and you didn’t even remember to be nervous.

And those million citations Jacques didn’t give us for public indecency during that spring he was disguised as a police officer. (He was definitely kidding when he brought it up. There was no way he could’ve seen us.)

It makes me so happy, to think about all that. I love you and Bertrand so much. I

Oh Lemony. I don’t think I can do any of this.  

-------

In other better happier general news, Gustav let Bertrand and me see the pictures from the wedding, and then he archived them, because we agreed that was for the best, and Bertrand figured you’d probably say the same. I look absolutely stunning, and Bertrand looks incredibly handsome even though he finally admitted he agrees with you, that hat was not his style, and you, Lemony, in that white suit that matched Bertrand’s with those peach-colored flowers because peach is a better color than I ever gave it credit for and it looked so good in the spring because it was the color the wall in the living room turned when the afternoon sun hit, you look

It was such a beautiful day. Still spring, and right after Bertrand’s birthday. Us, Kit, Jacques, Ramona, Olivia, Dewey, Hector. Jerome was invited—or he was supposed to be, who knows what happened there. We barely saw Gustav the whole time too, since he kept climbing up into trees for better angles. The smallest place we could find that would hold all of us and be so out of the way. The cake Kit made, against everyone’s expectations. Ramona cried, because of course she did. All those flowers, no one could move the whole time for walking into at least six bees, but no one minded. So much love. It was palpable, and my whole body was alive with it, with such a soft warmth I could barely breathe. I don’t think I ever stopped smiling, not while dancing or singing or kicking my shoes off because such mortal trappings cannot contain me, or when you and Bertrand danced and you cried, or when a crow flew overhead and we all stopped, just for a single second, before every one of us decided not to care. For a few hours one glorious afternoon.

You look happier than I’ve ever seen you before and now I don’t know if I’ll ever see you like that again or forever and I’m sorry, I was right, I can’t do this, I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this

-------

I’ve taken a few deep breaths and I’m ready to

Oh who am I KIDDING

Lemony I love you so much and I need you so much my heart is going to break with it

justice does not need eyes to see,

but truth built himself eyes

in the porcelain patterns of his world

and let them do the talking

in the skies he

so kindly

let them see,

with the eyes he gave them,

one after another

after another

after another

i

i was something else

but i lived so close beside

that they could not accuse me

of being blind

but i could’ve seen everything

if i could see with every eye,

one after another

after another

after another,

every eye

a certainty,

every eye

the truth,

every eye

mine alone.

You told me when we were younger that I should give rhyming verse a try and, well, Lemony, not everything you said was good advice.

-------

I do, though. I love you a great deal. I think it confuses people. Besides the fact that some of them never understood our relationship with Bertrand (cowards), I get the impression some of our associates don’t know why I love you. Which is just stupid of them, and I don’t owe them anything, none of them are going to read this. It’s not their business why I love you, it’s ours. And I love you because

How can you explain why you love someone? Someone can say ‘they make me laugh’ as much as they want and sure it’s true but is that really why? Can you ever really say why? Isn’t it enough to love somebody, with everything you have? To say, that’s the one I want, for the rest of my life? Who could I possibly need to defend myself to?

I love you because I love you, because I look at you and think I love you, because I inhale and exhale that I love you, because every part of me only feels right with you.

I love you because you embarrassed me but I thought you were kind. I love you because I didn’t ever have to explain anything. I love you because you always came back to me. I love you because you made me happy. I love you because you didn’t let anything stop you from loving me. I love you because you loved me. I love you because when you took my hand I thought I could do anything with that love.

I love you because you were mine. I love you because you looked at me. And I love you because it was more than that, it always was.

I love you because of the records you played. I love you because of the time we taught Bertrand to make root beer floats. I love you because you’d rehearse our lines with us even though you can’t act. I love you because of the way you would stand in the kitchen and wonder what you should make for dinner. I love you because you said you’d plant strawberry bushes in the backyard. I love you because you could never stand Geraldine Julienne. I love you because we would all sit around the table in my apartment and critique the newspaper articles together. I love you because you’d never take the train. I love you because Bertrand and I found every shortcut in the city for you. I love you because you and Bertrand would knit me the ugliest sweaters on purpose. I love you because you would take care of the bats for me and you were terrible at it.

I love you because you were wonderful where it counted. I love you because we’d stay up late and watch movies. I love you because you would hold Bertrand like it was the most important thing in the world. I love you because you would furrow your brow when you read something you didn’t like. I love you because you’d take me to the beach when it was cold. I love you because we went on picnics in the summer. I love you because when I walked into our apartment and then when I walked into our house it always felt like home. I love you because we made up that cat. I love you because you’d sing with me. I love you because Bertrand would take us bird-watching and name the birds with us. I love you because you bought me flowers.

I love you because you told me what happened. I love you because we went back there with you. I love you because I went into the lighthouse. I love you because I wasn’t going to not go. I love you because no one else would’ve gone. I love you because we let you walk out the door there and I knew you would come back.

I love you because we used to make out in the back of the movie theater and we’d take turns with Bertrand and then try to piece together what even happened in the movie when we got home. I love you because you used to sit in dark rooms with me and pretend we were ghosts and scare the other volunteers. I love you because we could just read for hours and not say a word. I love you because you let me cry in the bathroom. I love you because you would make up songs on the accordion when I was upset. I love you because I would whistle along when you did songs I knew. I love you because you would go out of your way to buy crackers. I love you because you would say things like “when we first met, you were pretty, and I was lonely” and you let me laugh. I love you because you would write me notes during class. I love you because you looked the same way I did the first time we saw Bertrand—shocked, and then a little impressed, and then irritated, because who did he think he was? I love you because who did any of us think we were, really. I love you because we grew to not care. I love you because we became people I was proud of.

I love you because you would feed that cat in the back alley on your way home and I would watch you from the window. I love you because that cat followed us to our house and then we had a real live legitimate cat until someone across the street put out better cat food. I love you because of the way you would read out loud, because you couldn’t act but when you read it was like seeing the sunrise for the first time. I love you because the one thing you did that was better than Bertrand was make tea. I love you because you taught me all your cookie recipes. I love you because we got you to sleep in the middle so we could protect you. I love you because they couldn’t take that away from me.

I love you because I’m here in an otherwise empty house, some boxes still unpacked, letting the dust settle, pouring my heart out when I don’t want to, because I do love you with everything I have, every part of me, every bone and every sigh and every drop of blood, and that’s the end of that. That’s all there is, I love you. That’s what it comes down to, I love you. That’s the only thing I want to say, I love you.

I do, I do love you. Lemony, please believe me.

-------

I know Bertrand has his own thoughts, his own opinions. He doesn’t want to admit that he does, but he gets this, look, on his face. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, like he’s lost something special but it was there a moment ago, wasn’t it. He thinks I haven’t noticed. After all this time, he thinks he’s not supposed to be here, and you it hurts, is all.

And as much as Bertrand is a part of us, indelibly, forever, just as you are, both of you so a part of me that I ache with it, this letter is between you and me. Not because it was the two of us first. But because you know, for as much as I don’t want to, I’ll say the things Bertrand won’t.

That’s how this has to be.

-------

So.

Olaf’s started talking to me again, which I didn’t think would happen in a million years. Although maybe I shouldn’t call it talking? More like, he sort of shows up if he knows I’m at headquarters (which is far and few between anyway so, really, what the hell?) and lounges in doorways with these big smiles and says these dramatic things at me instead of to me, which he can’t possibly expect me to believe. How stupid does he think I am? Because I’m not. He keeps going, hey Beatrice, have you read the Daily Punctilio? And I don’t say anything to him, even though yes, I’ve read the Daily Punctilio, dammit.

You and I both know what’s in the Daily Punctilio, and for a while I thought, maybe you were writing those articles yourself, part of another fragmentary plot, and that you’d tell me about it later, and you’d explain it to me, even though I wouldn’t need it to be explained, not really. But you didn’t. Not that you didn’t explain, you just, you just didn’t tell me anything. And you were gone and I couldn’t even see you anyway and that was what really made it hard? It wasn’t like I doubted you. I didn’t. I didn’t doubt you. I knew you wouldn’t do any of those things.

But everyone looked at me and they looked so damn pitying, like, oh it happens to the best of us, only he’s not the best of us. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming, well you know what he’s like, as if nothing had ever happened? As if we hadn’t grown up together? As if we wouldn’t have followed you to the ends of the earth because we believed in you? It’s not everyone, but it’s enough. Like some of them don’t owe you their lives.

Bertrand says that people deal with things in different ways, and saying those things about you is probably just another way they’re dealing with everything. Don’t you think it’s harder, it’s gotten harder, as we’ve gotten older? But they don’t have to throw you under the bus to do it. They don’t have to vilify you to make themselves feel better. They don’t have to look me in the eye like that, like I’m some, some poor miserable thing, or like I have to be protected, or like I don’t know what I’m doing, or like they can’t even trust me.

But what does that make me?

And Olaf would grin at me and I would hold my head high and look him back and spit in his face. I wasn’t going to let it get to me. It had only been a month. How long is a month, in the grand scheme of things? What does a month matter, against the beginning of a lifetime? And when a month became two, what did that matter?

-------

I wouldn’t say that Hector and I were ever particularly close, but I’ve actually seen a lot of him lately. We meet up for tea because he keeps saying there’s something he wants to talk to me about but mostly he sits there and looks at his tea and I pretend I’m not super uncomfortable. And then he insists on paying the check, in exact change.

When I see Hector, I think about Haruki. I know how close they were. And Haruki respected you so much, more than anyone else. As in, he respected you more than he respected any of our other friends, but also more than maybe anyone else respected you, because that was how Haruki was. Loyal, the best of the best, and so fierce about it. I wanted him there at our wedding.  

Haruki was really the first person we lost, I guess. And I hate how we’re never going to know how it happened, because they say no one else was there, and the one person we do know was there, he’s never going to say a damn thing about it, and we all know that for sure. But I remember everyone gathering around to write Haruki’s obituary and how little we had to say. Not because we didn’t know him. But because, what were we going to say? What did we have left to say, who did Haruki have left, besides us? And what were we?

Hector looks at me and I don’t know what to say to him. He doesn’t know what to say to me. I’m terrified he’s going to tell me I should’ve known better too because then I won’t be able to stand it. But he just looks at me and I try not to cry and I’m trying not to cry now because he’s feeling it too, this awful business of feeling like things are starting to break. Sometimes I feel Hector is going to disappear, too.

--------

I guess the question I started to think was, how long was I going to wait. Bertrand and I had waited for longer, and then there were times where we never waited, and hadn’t we reached a point where we weren’t supposed to, anymore? But then, when you’re married, aren’t you supposed to do whatever you have to?

But doesn’t it go both ways? One half can do their part but doesn’t the other half have to do something too and how much is it before you’re asking too much but how long is it before you’re not doing enough and when you’re married aren’t you supposed to know the answers to all the questions, the right and the wrong ones, you’re not supposed to care and you’re supposed to be there and it’s all is supposed to be okay, and

We never did do anything traditionally, though, did we?

-------

I saved the article. I didn’t save all of them, but I saved this one.

-------

UNIDENTIFIED BODY IDENTIFIED

The unidentified body recently pulled from the downtown river has been identified as local ex-theater critic and renowned person of interest, Lemony Snicket, who was last seen surveying the river and saying, “How deep do you think it really is?”

“For the record,” said the local police, who preferred to remain nameless and sent in their response by postcard from three towns over, “it was three feet.”

Mr. Snicket was identified by a source who was also unidentified, but proved their credentials by singing a variety of showtunes for the newspaper staff, to great applause.

“Yes, I suppose that’s him,” said the source, when asked to identify the photo of the river, which was presented to them while they were drinking a glass of water, because they were parched after the showtunes. When the glass of water spilled on the photograph, the source went on to say, “Oh, that’s definitely him.”

The body in question disappeared as soon as it was found, but the police have no reason to suspect foul play, as no livestock was found at the scene, the morgue, or the local bakery, and neither does our source.

“Can I leave now?” asked the source. “I need to go pick up my glasses.”

Mr. Snicket has recently been the suspect in a number of crimes, including arson, lockpicking, theft, and jaywalking without a license. He has been described as “that’s not what I would call a grey suit, it leaned closer to charcoal.” There is no planned funeral service at this time.

-------

Bertrand and I laughed a lot, because it was the most outrageous article we’d ever read, and we kept talking about what sort of bakery would even allow livestock inside, and of course we knew it was about you, but of course it wasn’t you, because we didn’t know where you were but we knew you were alive. You were alive, so no matter what we read or what anyone told us, no matter who wanted to believe what, we knew the truth.

And, again, Lemony, it wasn’t that I needed you to explain. It was that I wanted you to tell me. I wanted you to let me in on it. I wanted you to call or come by and tell us, your husband and your wife, hey no big deal but I’m gonna fake my death for the foreseeable future, is that okay? And instead I have to find out from Olaf waving it in my face? I have to find out from some absurd article I shouldn’t have even looked twice at? I have to find out from people I thought were my friends telling me I should have known better?

I sure don’t need to tell you, but, we just got married, Lemony! And we had a house and a life and plans and no matter what happened, no matter what else we had to do, because there was no way we were ever going to give this up and we knew that, we were going to stay together, we were going to do this, what we promised, not to other people but to ourselves, and each other,  and

Sometimes I want to think that you planned it like that, that you sat down and thought to yourself about the best worst way to do it and you thought, leaving us alone like this and faking your death and not saying a single word was the greatest way to break our hearts, especially after marrying us, that would hurt the most, you wanted to do it so you did it and you got away from us for good like you always wanted because you were never going to stay and you knew it, because then I can hate you like I’m supposed to and stop thinking of the way you smile at me

I hate that you aren’t a cruel person, I hate that you didn’t do it on purpose, I hate that the real true human tradition is that people are human and nothing else

How am I supposed to do this?

a bird up in her chamber

eats love for breakfast lunch and dinner

and steadily gets thinner

sings songs she won’t forget,

in the darkness by the lamps

says the shapes of lonely words

said by lonely people

in lonely rooms

to feel better about

being

so

so

what is a life with this alone

what is a life

like this?

“when we grab you by the ankle, where your life is ours to take

you’ll soon be doing wicked things, they’ll keep you long awake

when your whole life is a secret then you’ll be a volunteer

and you’ll scream a long time later, for

the world was never quiet here.”

-------

Bertrand has been making lists. You know his tendency to organize, but the funny thing is he just keeps leaving them places. I’m sitting on like, three of them.

To Do

-Check maps

-Apologize to D

-Extra key

-Secure boat

-Study family trees

To Buy

-Thick, sturdy rope

-Do they make portable record players?

-Paintbrushes (for then and now, so get extra)

-White curtains? Will they match? Check ‘To Think’

-Extra wires, no candles!

To Think

-Ask Kit about Bernadette

-Examine garden for hiding spots

-Turtles or foxes?

-What if it turns out to be true?

-Or birds??

Definitely not birds.

-------

You know, I haven’t seen Jerome in a while. Maybe it’s also been two months, I’m not sure. I feel like, even before the wedding, we weren’t seeing much of him—although it wasn’t like Jacques paraded him around or anything in the first place—but since then, I don’t think Jacques has even talked about him.

This means Jacques’s Tuesdays are open now, although you’d never know it. He still only shows up when he wants to. And if he doesn’t want to, then you have as much luck finding him as finding a grammar rule Jo doesn’t know. It must run in the family. I hate to

I had Kit get ahold of him for me. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what to say to Kit anymore, which is unsettling, but Kit acts like she always does. She comes over and makes herself at home and talks to both of us like this is average everyday Kit business for her. I don’t know if I admire her tenacity or if it’s going to be something else I can’t stand down the line. I don’t know yet. She hugged me when she left, though. That’s just how Kit is. And I don’t really want to lose that.

I wasn’t sure if Kit would know, the thing I wanted to ask Jacques. I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if she did, but when I saw her I thought, maybe she didn’t know. She didn’t talk about you at all. And it wasn’t the ‘I’m Kit Snicket and I’m Being Purposefully Vague For Reasons, Now Deal With It’ sort of silence, it was the ‘I’m Kit Snicket and I Refuse to Admit I Don’t Know This Piece of Information, So I’m Going to Rearrange Your Bookshelves’ sort of silence. Still don’t know where she put T.S. Eliot. I think she took it with her.

Jacques didn’t want to talk to me. He’s too polite to say it, but I could tell. He kept making excuses, and by the time we finally got him to come here, he was uncomfortable and I was on edge. He came right out and said he couldn’t stay long. He knew why I wanted to talk to him and he told me straightforward that he couldn’t tell me.

I’m not proud of what I said to him.

-------

If it was the last day, but it probably was but Lemony, I don’t I sure didn’t know.

I will remember every second until the day I die.

We waited until after the wedding to move into the house, especially because the only honeymoon we wanted was for the three of us to be there together, alone, for a little while. It was on the outskirts of the city, away from everything else, and we barely told anyone. We didn’t even tell everyone from the wedding.

I watched the sunrise, the soft shadows sliding along the sheets on the bed, catching on the suitcases we still hadn’t unpacked all the way, you and Bertrand warm beside me, and I didn’t want to get up. We put the best bed in the whole world in our room, and rightly so. High bed posts but no canopy because Bertrand was worried about dust. Crisp white sheets and I was so excited to look when we finally got up and see the wrinkles mashed down in them from where we slept because that meant it was ours for real. That rich wine comforter that it was too hot to use the first night so we still had it folded up at the foot of the bed, but you had this look in your eyes when we spread it out like you couldn’t wait for winter and when we’d be squished up against each other underneath it for warmth.

That morning, I just wanted to lay there and savor it. It wasn’t like we’d never been in the same bed before, or that we even needed to be married, but! To know I could hold it in my hands, that’s what it was.

And then Bertrand rolled over and got an elbow into my side somehow and you mumbled something about Wedding Pancakes (capitals implied) and then we had to eat breakfast.

I checked. The wrinkles were all there.

-------

Bertrand and I.

We haven’t

We’ve been

We’ve been angry at each other.

And you know Bertrand, he doesn’t get angry, really, he gets, more disappointed than anything, but he’s. He’s been angry. At me. I know.

I get scared, because I don’t know what to do, so I, I can’t hold a conversation without yelling at somebody, and it’s usually Bertrand, and I hate yelling at him and sometimes he starts to yell back.

We’re not. Okay. Right now.

We weren’t supposed to do this without you and I don’t want to find out that we can’t, Lemony. And I know we can but I know it’s also not a matter of doing it with or without you, because that’s awful, I just keep wondering what if you were what held us all together and if you’re not here how are Bertrand and I supposed to go on like this. Saying the wrong things, avoiding each other, not coming home. I guess that’s how we’re ‘dealing’ with it but that’s sure some sick way to do it.

I don’t want to lose anybody and fighting for them means that I want to keep screaming until everything stops.

-------

Jacques said you’d be back soon enough.

I told him I needed to know how soon was soon.

He said soon enough.

I said that wasn’t enough.

I never though of Jacques as one to yell. And he didn’t really yell, he mostly raised his voice, like I couldn’t hear him. I mean I was definitely talking over him but it was because I could hear him and I didn’t want to.

No one can tell me anything I don’t know. I know they think I haven’t felt the same worries as everyone else but that’s because I never wanted them to think that I did. And I did too good a job, apparently. I know we live hard lives, Jacques. I know it requires sacrifices, Jacques. I know there’s no guarantee, Jacques. I know there’s things you have to give up. I know you can’t be childish or selfish in this business. I know we knew what would happen. I know sometimes no matter how hard you try, you’re just going to fail.

He told me to wait for you.

-------

After breakfast, we organized the library, because we still had so many things in boxes but we agreed we had to get that done. We put everything in, every repeat copy and every notebook because we actually had room for everything instead of trying to cram it all into smaller bookshelves. The library was the biggest room in the house and had that beautiful windowseat. (It still does. We’re still in this house, after all, but this moment, this day, just isn’t right now.) I’ll admit I spent more time lounging on it than I did organizing books, but, you sat on that windowseat with me, you knew how comfortable it was. I loved those windows and how bright the sun was (really.) and how good I knew it was going to look when it was raining. And you agreed, and Bertrand rolled his eyes at us, and I told him, he got his natural light, what more did he want?

For two people to stop lazing around and figure out if we were going in alphabetical order or by genre or by which ones most recently made us cry over lunch, Bertrand said.

It was alphabetical, of course.

We forgot about lunch, because we put the record player in the library until we could find another place for it and started playing our favorites. Bertrand could dance by then, obviously, we wouldn’t have married him if he couldn’t. We were very good at dancing together, after practicing for so long. No one was ever going to do a better three-way tango and we all knew it.

We picked through the fridge and some of the wedding gifts, once we got hungry and tired of dancing. We found out Jerome somehow still sent us at least thirty coasters, and learned that he apparently wildly overestimates our social life, because there was no way we were going to be inviting thirty people at a time over anymore, or at least, not for a while. You and Bertrand stacked them in the dining room in a cabinet, and those you organized by color. Then we stood at the window there and looked out into the garden (the best view of it was from the dining room) and talked about the flowers we were going to plant, and how Ramona was going to send us (express) a clipping from one of the rosebushes in her garden, the ones we’d look at during her family’s masked balls.  

We went to the corner store down the street and you and Bertrand pretended to fuss over tomatoes while I was looking at loaves of bread and when I turned around you were buying flowers for me, red and bright and beautiful. We put them in the kitchen while we all made dinner (salmon, with cherry tomatoes). Somehow I found the time to make sorbet for dessert and it was only then we realized how late it was and we laughed a lot that day and laughed a lot then because we didn’t need to care about things like that. Our house was barely put together and we tried to find a way to use every single coaster from Jerome and we hadn’t had words with the city about the electricity yet because there was so much we’d had to do beforehand that we had to use candles. We all had matches, and we weren’t naive enough to think we wouldn’t have them.  

I can’t tell you how powerful I felt, lighting those candles, because I know you and Bertrand felt it too. This was our doing and ours alone. This space was ours. We looked at each other over the candles, the shadows on our faces, and we’d never looked clearer.  

We could’ve lived forever, in that moment.  

-------  

I called your brother a coward and I told him that whatever happened to Jerome now that he wouldn’t protect him was his fault and his alone and if he could live with himself that’s fine but I couldn’t if I didn’t try to do this and if he didn’t tell me where you were I was going to kill him where he stood and he shouldn’t even think for one second that I wasn’t capable of doing what had to be done and if that meant I had to kill for what I wanted then I would.

-------  

You kissed us in the morning. You smiled. You walked out the door and then came back because you forgot your hat and Bertrand and I were still laughing even as the door shut behind you.  

And then you were gone.  

-------  

Kit came by again, after.  

We sat in that silence.  

She told me that it was the one thing they hadn’t told her. She hadn’t known, until I asked Jacques. We don’t have anywhere else to go, she said, in a moment of unprecedented candidness. So we always come back.  

“I underestimated him,” she said.  

I told her she could keep The Wasteland, since it was practically hers because it had been yours. Kit smiled. She didn’t say much else.  

-------  

Bertrand and I aren’t the only ones losing someone here and I forgot that.  

Jacques and I looked at each other for a long time. I tried to apologize and he kept shaking his head. He told me where you were. He told me he didn’t know when you’d be back—or if you would at all. He told me he was the one writing the articles in the Daily Punctilio. He turned away from me. Then he gave me his handkerchief, and put his hand on mine, and got up and left.

-------  

What it feels like, Lemony, is like you

It feels like you picked

It feels like we didn’t matter and

And it’s not like we could ever choose or have one or the other I know I know I know but

We’re never going to be without it but I thought that

WE GOT MARRIED, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, LEMONY SNICKET

You picked an idea of nobility that you spent the past ten years struggling with and denouncing and promising you’d never

It wasn’t like we ever set out to save you anyway I

At the end of the day, that’s it. You picked the organization over us. And I didn’t think we were going to have to draw lines like that. At least not now. At least not right now. Because that means I have to make a decision. Because it means I can’t only think about me. Because it means I can’t keep waiting. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.  

-------  

I found out the other day.

I had a feeling, though. You just, you either have the feeling or you don’t, right? And I did. And I keep thinking about what your reaction would be. What you’d say. I keep thinking about your eyes, bluer than blue. I keep thinking about the world we said we were going to make when we were kids, the people we said we’d be. We were tiny and young and idealistic and you’re really only that way once in your whole life and when you’re not anymore, you can’t go back.  

-------  

We can’t go on like this.  

stripped off my dress like a skin,

peeled

so you could see everything

not only then,

but always.

didn’t know i was doing it,

guess i never really ran out of clothes.

you took off you shirt

and I was jealous.

you only needed to do it once and there you were.

I thought.

but now I keep finding shirts

in the places where I found you

and I can’t

find anything

that was mine

to put back on

I really can’t do anything

-------  

Enclosed you’ll find the ring. I know it’s not just the ring I married you with, but the ring I married Bertrand with, but whenever we look at it we think of you and I’m the one who has to wear it all the time and I can’t.  

But I don’t want to give it back because what if it’s the only thing I get to keep of you? But it wasn’t ever mine anyway, or yours, and who knows, maybe Ramona will marry Olivia with it someday, and maybe you’ll be there, only you wouldn’t be if you got the ring back, you’d never show your face again.  

And that’s not what I want, I don’t want you out of my life, Lemony, but if I give it back then maybe I do. Maybe that is what I want. Maybe I never want to see you again like this.  

-------  

Okay, I have to ask. I have to, because Jacques kept his mouth shut about this.  

The last time you saw us. Not the day, but the morning, walking out the front door. Did you know you weren’t coming back? You just left like you always did, to go to the newspaper, before Bertrand and I went to the theater, and as far as leaving someone for good goes that’s so

Did you meet up with Jacques, or Hector, or Jo, or even Kit, and did they tell you? Did headquarters address you personally? Did you take an assignment from someone else? Did someone corner you and were you trying to protect us? Was that the only way you could do it, going into hiding and faking your death? Who else was involved, besides Jacques? How long was it going to go on for? Did they expect you to do it by yourself? Did you have a plan, did any of them have a plan? What fragmentary plot was it even a part of? Did you know you weren’t coming back? Could you even come back? Did it even happen right away? Did it start out as some mediocre assignment you were going to tell us about later and then what happened so that I was reading the paper and there you were being accused of things I knew you’d never do? Why didn’t they ask me? Why didn’t they ask Bertrand? Why didn’t they ask us? You knew we’d do it together, we swore we’d do it together, why didn’t you tell us? What made it so that you couldn’t?  

Or did you really decide for yourself that that was it?  

I don’t want to believe that. I don’t, Lemony. I want to believe that it was one thing and then another but do you know why I can’t, why I keep asking? Do you understand why I need to know the truth? Why I need to be able to put it together? Why waiting and trusting isn’t enough anymore?  

--------  

No one could ever extinguish my love, Lemony, no one, nothing, not a single solitary thing ever, nothing could do it, but my trust is a different matter. Loving someone and trusting someone are two different things and I know you know that as much as I do. You. Knew. All. Of. This.  

-------

You know. If it had ended at the article. I might’ve been okay with it. I might have. Not making any promises, because we both know better than that. But I might’ve. I could’ve.  

It didn’t end with the article.  

Olivia had a short-lived assignment working the telegrams recently. She gave Ramona a very specific telegram. Olivia was honestly surprised it had come through at all. That something like that would be sent over such an insecure line. And of course she showed Ramona. They didn’t show it to anyone else. Which was lucky, because you know Olivia. She wanted to do whatever she could.

Ramona sent it to me. Right away. I got it yesterday. She said she’d never felt worse in her entire life. She said she was sorry. She’s the only one who didn’t sound patronizing about it.

J.S.,

AS WELL AS CAN BE EXPECTED STOP GOING ON FULL STOP

M.K.

I never liked Monty Kensicle all that much as a name either.  

-------  

Lemony I can’t help but think that you’re sick of me, sick with me

It wasn’t like I ever—like I did it to be similar, I would NEVER, because both of us had our reasons for why we did what we did, you on that train, me and Bertrand at the opera. We knew what we were doing. Did we regret it? Enough for it to hurt, on the wrong days. Not enough for it to matter, in the long run. But enough for it to stop me every once in a while, in the way I know it stopped you.

But, but did you think, you couldn’t love someone who

Which would be, extraordinarily hypocritical of you, not to mention

I know you still think about it and I know how much it

I paid my price for what I did, Lemony, and so did you, and I didn’t

Is that how it works? Is that what happens? Is this what else I have to give up, for some shred of nobility, is my life going to be one mistake after another because I followed an order and I though they were right enough? Not even right, right enough, how stupid—is everything that happens to me going to be because of that? Am I losing you because it’s what I deserve?

Don’t I deserve good things? Don’t I still deserve happiness, and stability, and love, and a family, and all those things I worked so hard for? Because nobility wasn’t the end of it for me, this was what we wanted, something better, something for us, something we deserved, and this can’t be it, this can’t be the only thing we get for all of that, there has to be something else! And if I lose everyone close to me because of this organization Lemony I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do I feel like I’m going to lose my mind like this

--------  

I think of you out there, alone, and probably cold because you never bring a damn jacket with you anywhere. It’s summer but I’m imagining you as being cold, but I think that’s just because it’s sort of what you do when anyone thinks of someone as being anywhere alone.

Or, I’m just—I’m thinking of you out there, alone, for sure. I’m doing that. I’m thinking. About you. Alone.  

I’m

thinking.  

I think of you. Out there. Letting Jacques know, letting Olivia know, because you had to know who was working the telegram, otherwise you wouldn’t have sent it, I think of you going out of your way to tell your brother and not me and Bertrand and maybe you thought they’d tell me anyway but I had to pull teeth to get it from Jacques and if it had been anyone else! No one but Olivia would have said! You got lucky! But not enough! Because you still didn’t tell us! You went out of your way to not!! You! I think of you! Doing that instead of having the nerve! The decency! To tell us first! You!

How could you

How could you

-------  

I think of you, out there—hiding in the middle of nowhere with only the occasional newspaper for company, which, let me tell you, Lemony, is a very frustrating existence. You know what? I keep wanting to hope that you are dead because somehow that would make this easier, I can be angry at a dead man. But I can be angry at anyone, can’t I. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter. I can be angry.  

I want to hope that you never sleep comfortably again. I want to hope that every sea is too uneven and every desert is too hot and every mountain is too cold and everywhere you go it’s too much. I want to hope that you try and come back and see how good and happy Bertrand and I are without you and you have to realize, you really did mess up. I want to hope that your boat goes down in the middle of the ocean and I know for sure! I want to think that you’ll be so miserable without us and it’ll never have been worth it!!  

You’re out there, without us. Without me.

I hope it was worth it.  

-------

What am I going to do?

I’m not picking. It’s not—I’m not capable of that, picking between you two, and I know you both had this ridiculous fear that I was going to, but I wasn’t, and I’m still not. I am selfish and clingy and I know what I want and I love what I have, and I love both of you and Bertrand loves both of us and I was ready to stake my life on the fact that you loved both of us too.  

And I hate that I have to say it! Because I do! Apparently I do have to, Lemony! If it comes down to, who would I rather do this with, who would I raise a family with, who would I trust more than anything, and you made me make this choice, I’m sorry it can’t be the man who ran away from me! And part of me keeps thinking I’m not even me for saying that, I’m not, I’m not the Beatrice that was going to tear a room apart with her bare hands to get what she wanted, who would scale walls and climb buildings and shoot a gun and could ski and fence by fourteen, I’m not, taking risks, I’m not doing whatever I have to, and that everyone who told me Bertrand was boring (because there were people!!!) and safe and uncomplicated was right and that I’m betraying some fundamental aspect of myself by not even trying, and that I’m hurting Bertrand especially for making him a damn pawn in what I think my life is

But it’s not like I never did! It’s not like I didn’t spend years and years of my life trying to be a good person, trying to create the life I wanted, all of this is me, every ugly thought and every bad decision and every unfinished book and every theater script I keep leaving around places and every single page of this as I try to figure out where I want to go from here! And it just comes back to one thing, Lemony, just one thing! That we can’t do this! That I can’t have you in my life like this! That I didn’t believe it would happen but here it is, it’s happening!! I can’t avoid it! You walked away from me and expected me to be okay with it! You expected me to wait! You expected me to do it! You expected EVERYTHING from me and I only have so much to give, I’m only so much, I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING

And do you know what I am? Do you know what I am, really, when I get right down to it?? I am this, this awful woman with blood on my hands asking you for something that even I could never give anybody, not you or Bertrand or myself and I’m so sick of everything, I’m so sick of myself, I hate everyone and myself most of all, for being like this, for turning into this person, I hate hate hate hate hate all of this and how we were raised and what our future is going to be and what I’ve done and what is it going to take, for things to be better, for me to be better, for—what is it going to take, Lemony, for you to walk back through that door again and not do it over and over and over and I can’t keep letting you do this, I can’t, not to me or to Bertrand, I can’t keep hoping you’ll be there when I wake up and I can’t keep dreaming we’re going to die and I can’t keep pretending that anything about us has ever been okay or ever will be okay! Nothing about this is okay and how am I only realizing it now? How long have we been fooling ourselves into thinking that we could do this? How long do I have to be kind about this? How long do I have to play nice about you and this?  

I’m UPSET and I’m ALLOWED TO BE and I

don’t

know

if

I

can

forgive

you

I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I can look at you anymore.

I don’t know.  

Do you know how it was, Lemony? It was us first. You and me. From the second we saw each other in that green-walled room, it was you and me. Lemony and Beatrice. Root beer floats and being purposely mysterious to each other when we talked and being too clever. And I thought that meant we could do anything. We could die and I’d be happy because I was with you. As long as I had you.  

And then there was Bertrand. And life felt different. Bertrand made it different, Bertrand made life different, he made it worth something else. And the bond that you and I had? Irreplaceable. And what we created with him only made it better. We had room in what we had for something so good. It really was Bertrand. I don’t know what would’ve become of us if it hadn’t been for him. And I saw that in you, too. You thought it too.

That was when I worried. When I started dreaming about terrible things happening to us. To you. I kept running from it because I didn’t know what else to do. I just didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to lose.  

I’m scared to do anything. I’m scared to be wrong. I’m scared to know anything else.  

I’m scared to die.  

I don’t think you are.  

I’m not sorry.  

-------  

Here are some questions. Here are some facts. Here are some things.  

1 – I’m tired.

2 – I can’t even wonder if we should have done things differently anymore, right after that moment we met. In that room, I never imagined any of this.

3 – Sometimes I do think you lied all along. And that’s not a reflection on our associates or anything but just, see question/statement 1.

4 – You had to have thought about what would happen.

5 – How could we have a family like this?

6 – Did you think you could run all your life? Did you think that would work out? That Bertrand and I would be satisfied with that?

7 – Did you want me like that?

8 – What am I supposed to do?

9 – How long did you think we could keep this up?

10 – Was I wrong?

11 – What did you want?

12 – I know you’d thought about what a family with us would look like and I didn’t think you’d let anything stand in the way of that and maybe that was where I was naive.

13 – What would you say if I asked you this in person?  

-------  

After all this, I—  

Bertrand has asked me if I have any spare pens.  

-------  

Lemony—

A long time ago, I sat in the diner near your apartment. We’d all known each other for a while, and you and Bea were very much together, and I didn’t quite feel like a third wheel anymore but I also didn’t feel like I was a part of everything yet. We were still dancing around each other, and I was doing it truly, incredibly badly.  

I was in the habit of meeting Jo on weekends, when we would go over our reports together because we worked in similar places. We’d meet in the diner. I would arrive early and take a seat near the door. It had the best view of your window. You never turned the lights on, but I would look at it and think about you and—I’m completely serious—write the worst poetry ever to exist. You and Bea have always been much better at it. Jo would take it upon herself to help and suddenly they were these grammar-specific poems, which meant I definitely was not going to send them. Jo is many things; Jo is just not particularly a writer of romance.

I never told you or Bea, because it didn’t seem noteworthy, once we were together. But, things happen in your life and you wish you’d been able to say so much more than you did. I wanted to tell you about the face Bea makes when you aren’t there. She bites her lip and frowns around the kitchen when there’s a lull in the conversation in the spots you would usually say something clever. I wanted to tell you how the bed doesn’t feel the same when you aren’t in it. Bea says the wrinkles don’t set the same, and I feel like it’s emptier without you. I wanted to tell you that the hottest summer days—and I feel like there have been an endless amount of them so far this summer, humid and muggy and not the least bit sultry—even they feel cold when we can’t see you. I wanted to tell you that every time I do the laundry, I remember how you can’t fold socks. I wanted to tell you that I’ve stopped folding socks altogether, which has become quite the problem. Bea and I have stacks of socks in the bedroom now, which is just silly. I wanted to tell you that I love watching you put your hat by the door when you come home, resting it on the table as gently as possible, giving such a small gesture has such a big importance.

I took those things for granted. So much of my life, I’ve thought that loving things so fiercely and so determinedly could be enough, and I’ve relied on that love to get me through what we had to do. Even when the three of us weren’t together, I think I would’ve been happy to stay that way, because I could still love both of you regardless, and just that would’ve been enough. Just to be able to love you, and have your companionship. I would have cherished that always.

I’m the one who’s been so lucky, Lemony. When we all got together, I felt like my life began. I felt like you and Bea pulled me along into something beautiful and breathtaking and nothing would ever compare. I felt like it would always be there, for the rest of my life.

And I’m—

I don’t hate you. I could never. You need to know, that no matter what happens, I will never hate you. I can’t promise to not be upset with you, because I am, and a little angry, and a little disappointed, and a lot sad. But I don’t hate you.

You and Bea have such beautiful ways to say things, and I’ve always been so jealous of the way you two write. You told me that both of you were jealous of my tendency to be a little more forthright, at least when I got down to it, because let’s not forget, I did spend two months coming up with nicknames for all of us instead of just telling you how much you meant to me. But I don’t have lengthy or passionate ways to say certain things, is what it is. Actions, definitely. But when I have to say it, it comes out.

I love you.

And I wish you were here.  

I never wanted to think about it, I guess. I’ve done a very good job of not thinking of things I didn’t want to think about. We do difficult things and live difficult lives. It takes its toll, and I’ve watched it happen. I thought if I held on tight enough—to you, to Bea, to myself—that we could escape some of it, no matter what we’ve done. And we’ve done a lot. We’ve been kept up in turn by sleepless nights and bad dreams and wondering too much. We’re not going to leave—not for good, and each of us know that—but it could be more manageable, together. We would figure it out, when we needed to. Perhaps I was a bit too optimistic about how well I could do it.

I hate to think it was something we did, or something we didn’t see. I hate to think that you gave up on yourself or on us. I hate to think I didn’t do enough. I know it’s not necessarily anyone’s fault. I know Bea keeps telling me I’m too kind for my own good, and I think it’s because I’m afraid to really feel anything. Feeling it makes it too real, something I have to actually contend with, and I don’t want to. I really don’t.

I want to say—I don’t want to tell you, I just want to say it—that I’m more hurt than I’ve ever been, and I don’t feel like I belong here without you, and that I think, you didn’t want to do it, but you knew what you were doing, and you did it because some things just sound easier, or hurt more but hurt less than others, and that I despise the people that we’ve become. I despise the things that we’ve been made into, and I don’t know how much of it we did to ourselves. I don’t know how much I can change.  

I won’t lie, Lemony, because I’ve never been much of a liar. It’s been hard without you. Bea and I haven’t been talking very much, and we get into arguments when we do. We’ve been avoiding each other. It’s hard to avoid someone you live with, for a lot of reasons. But we’ve been managing to do it. I’ve been hiding at the Denouement. Absolutely, definitely hiding. Dewey’s not pleased but he doesn’t say no to the help organizing the archives. Bea’s been going to the theater, even though she’s technically off-duty for the next seven months (it was self-imposed off-duty, which I’ll admit was surprising). When we do talk to each other, Bea has a tendency to raise her voice, which I don’t mind, necessarily, because I understand why she keeps doing it. I have a tendency of late to do the same, which I’m not proud of. Taking it out on each other isn’t good or responsible of us, but it’s where we are right now. It is a miserable place to be.

Bea assumes I’m upset with her, but I’m not. I’m upset with myself, mostly. I keep thinking that none of this would have happened if I wasn’t here, that I made things worse. If you and Bea had just gone on by yourselves, maybe there would be so much less unhappiness. Maybe I was what made it hard for you to stay. Maybe I pressured you, maybe I pressured myself. Maybe this is my lot in life. They’re awful things to think, but I’m thinking them. That’s what people do, when upsetting things happen. We try to figure out where we went wrong. We don’t come up with any answers, but it’s better than sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, which we do enough of too. I know eventually we’ll stop hurting each other, Bea and I. It just feels a long way away right now. A lot of things feel that way. You, myself, my friends, anything I thought I knew or had.

I’m being very unkind, to myself. That’s not your fault. It’s just something I’m realizing now. I’ve spent a lot of my life being unkind to myself. I don’t know how not to be. There are many things I don’t believe that I deserve, a sentiment I know you understand. It’s hard to feel like we deserve anything, even what we love. The more I think about it, the more I think, maybe that was why. And that breaks my heart and scares me so much, Lemony, that we—you—are capable of feeling such sadness.

Honestly, part of me wants to keep waiting. The part of me that is a fairly patient person is probably willing to do so. But the other part of me that is less patient and a husband to both of you is the part that hurts, and the part that reminds me that I am allowed to say that there is only so much I can take. I want you here more than anything, but I know for sure none of this is ever going to be that simple again.

But going forward from this, I want to feel like I deserve things. There’s only so much time I can spend regretting, or hating myself, or wishing that I had done something different. It’s easy to get caught up in all of that, and I think I still will be, for a while. I think I’m going to keep thinking miserable things for some time to come. But on the other side of that is something else. Not necessarily a happiness, or a satisfaction, but a certain kind of existence. Or, I guess, a kindness.

I love you very much, Lemony, and I can’t imagine doing this without you. I still don’t want to.

But if you have to—Bea and I aren’t going anywhere. We’ll still be here. I can’t promise in what way, but we’ll be here, if or when or anything at all. I hope you can meet us in that something else one day.  

Until then, with all my love,  

I wish you bluebirds in the spring,

to give your heart a song to sing,

and then a kiss, but more than this,

I wish you love.

And in July, a lemonade

to cool you in some leafy glade,

I wish you health,

and more than wealth,

I wish you love.

My breaking heart and I agree

that you and I could never be,

so with my best,

my very best,

I set you free.

I wish you shelter from the storm,

a cozy fire to keep you warm,

but most of all,

when snowflakes fall,

I wish you love.

  Bertrand    

face the sun

in the night,

find it in the night

in the pieces,

dig for it,

dig it out with my hands alone.

yes.

what I left –

fragments,

every last eye,

unwelcome.

piling it back in.

new sunlight.

-------  

So—the sad truth is that the truth is sad. The real truth is that I never wanted to believe you were right about that. I thought I could get by on good looks and sheer force and well-hidden optimism and believing I was right. I was wrong. We were all wrong, some of us more wrong than others.

Where you went wrong is thinking that we—that I—would be okay with this. And that was where I went wrong too, I admit. The blame could be with all of us.

What I do know is that we can’t be together like this. Not like this. This is where it ends.

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. I don’t know what Bertrand and I will do. And the two of us—Bertrand and I—can figure that out. In whatever way that is. Whatever you’re doing, I leave you to it.  

You will—always, always, always—be (somewhere) in my mind, and (deep) in my heart, and wherever (wherever.) (parenthetical required.) you are. Be it a boat, or a cave, or the city, or a grave, true or false. That’s the way you want it. That’s the way I will accept it. Good luck.

Beatrice

[f3ar-prompts]

hero/villain writing 2

Hero woke up to a sea of white. He winced and tried to hide under the covers, not ready to wake up yet.

He groaned and tried to ignore what was to his side, sitting up and looking at the windows, the curtains a failing veil of white. It must’ve been cloudy to produce that color.

He rubbed his eyes and groaned, half tempted to close the blackout curtains and go back to sleep. Something told him that would wake up the man sleeping next to him, though.

He looked over and in HIS bed, in HIS house, HIS BEDROOM, was his mortal enemy, with HIS pajamas on, cuddling HIS pillow.

Hero would’ve been surprised, had he not remember the stage of events that led up to this point.

Hero and Villain had to announce a truce, that they were allying, to the public. They didn’t want the public to know that the two were only doing this to take down Supervillain, but now that they’ve played it up to this point, they have to look the part or the people will get suspicious. Then again, who would watch when the Hero/Villain sleep to make sure that they’re still allies?

Villain didn’t even have a plan for how to get out of this situation but continued to make the empty promise of “We’ll go back ta’ rivals in no time!” Hero wasn’t quite sure how long “no time” will be, partially considering a week of constant snarky remarks and almost wanting to hit his new “ally” felt very long. God, had it really only been a week?

Hero brushed the thoughts away, refocusing on the sleeping man next to him. Villain, Villain... He could do anything to Villain now. His enemy’s asleep, at HIS mercy... Pitiful at the least, devilish at the worst. Hero briefly fantasized about all the things he wanted to do to Villain, more out of spite than anything, as he tried to get up and out of bed.

Second mistake. His first was not getting out of the covers.

Hero lazily rolled out of bed, assuming his feet would catch him, but that didn’t quite work out. He felt his heart lurch after he fell to the floor, taking the blanket and Villain along with him.

Time felt like it stopped for a second, Hero laying in disbelief on the floor as the pressure of Villain and the fluffiness of Villain’s pillow seemed to encase him. He almost went right back to sleep there had Villain not been woken up by the event. Then again, he was now wide awake now that he hit the floor, so he scrapped the “sleeping” idea.

He felt Villain’s arms move from the pillow and to hold himself up from the ground, effectively pinning Hero. Villain rubbed his head, groaning as he tried to gain his bearings. He looked around.

After quickly assessing that he fell out of bed, he went to move off of Hero, only to realize- that... this was his enemy’s fault. Oh, he would NOT let Hero get over this one.

Villain moved the pillow out from between them, looking down at his rival. His rival, now at HIS mercy.

“Hiya,” Villain threw at Hero. Hero looked up at him and growled, pining to sit up. Villain backed off of Hero but still straddled his hips as Hero tried to assess the damage, more to the floor than to either of them. 200 or more pounds suddenly hitting the floor... Hero hoped that the floor could withstand them both.

“Seems a l’ early to be dragging me out of bed, isn’it?” Villain snarked, causing Hero to mimic slap Villain.

“It is most DEFINITELY not early...”

Villain chuckled, although he agreed. It had to be around 10 or 11 AM right now, but any clock to look at was above them and Villain was too lazy to grab any of them.

“Couldjou, uh...” Hero motioned to Villain. “Move?”

“No, actually, I think I’m quite comfy.” Hero and Villain looked at each other, one with annoyance and one with deviance.

“Wipe that smile off your face.” Hero tried to buck Villain off of him only for him to get more pinned than he was before. Villain quickly reacted and almost attacked Hero’s shoulders, letting him hit the blanket-softened floor below him.

“Feisty today, aren’t we?” Villain continued to remark, looking the Hero up and down before meeting his eyes again.

“Get. Off.”

“Tch- no?” Villain remarked through a laugh. “I think I’m quite comfy here, actually...” He leaned down to settle on Hero’s bare chest.

Hero groaned at the sudden contact and tried to reason with Villain. “Somebody has to get up today, and if you’re not gonna do it...”

“Go back to bed, sweetie.”

Hero cringed at the nickname. Sweetie? “On the floor?”

“Ehh...” Villain looked to the side, contemplating whether or not to actually move off of Hero.

His decision was made for him, though, as Hero grabbed Villain’s shoulders and quite literally threw him off. Villain’s head hit the pillow he was cuddling but he groaned anyway. He looked on helplessly as Hero got up and started for the door.

He shouted to Hero, “PUT A SHIRT ON.”

“I’m— I’m not even that far away, you don’t have to yell!” Hero did take what Villain said into consideration, though. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, don’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Villain gave a thumbs-up to Hero, letting his arm drop to the floor.

When Villain heard the soft click of the door, he rolled the blanket up on top of him, suddenly deciding to sleep on the floor, even though there was a perfectly good bed right next to him. He grabbed the pillow and nestled into it, sighing deeply before letting sleep take him.

———

oh also i’m taking submissions and requests lolol. i won’t do any nsfw works submitted tho

[windblooms]

I saw you giving advice and I hope you can maybe help me? I dont usually play this style of game so I'm not used to building teams (I mean with Pokémon I barely used stat boosts/field moves. Just tried to cover all types with STAB). Ultimately I'd like to have Keqing, Xiao, and Diluc (if he ever comes home sob) on my team. I currently have Qiqi and kind of building Ningguang to use her shield powers, but idk what to do or if I should replace anyone? I like to play based on (p1)

(p2) characters I like but because of that I'm not sure if I'm accidentally using too many dps characters, idk what I'm doing with support, etc... I'm so lost lol. Should I replace anyone? Or just get nice artifacts/buffs to make them too strong so it doesn't matter (is that even possible?)? I'm all over the place sorry but I was also considering going for Venti and Zhongli if he gets a rerun. Thanks for any help! 😣

hi there!  what i’m going to say is based off of my experience of the game (playing since october, currently ar55).  feel free to dismiss this advice if it doesn’t vibe with you!!  it’s ultimately your game and i’m only trying to give guidelines, but if you should enjoy this game the way you want.

also, anon who asked for albedo dps, im working on it rn!!  i just don’t own him so i need to read up more than usual.

SHOULD YOU REPLACE ANYONE?  i don’t see any problem with having keqing, xiao, qiqi, diluc (when he comes home to you) and ning on the same team or rotating in and out in overworld.  it sounds like you’re a new-ish player, so i don’t think you’re in spiral abyss yet - and if you are in spiral, definitely in later levels, you shouldn’t organize your teams this way.  as you progress more and more throughout genshin (i’d say starting ar45), you’re going to need to focus on strategic team comp more, get used to switching out characters for abilities and comboing, etc.  so my answer to this question is that, if you’re below ar45, you shouldn’t stress about being particular with overworld team comp.

but if you want my recommendation for overworld?  i don’t know which characters you have right now, so i’ll just name teams (of 4star characters) that i think would suit keqing, xiao, and diluc.

team keqing:  keqing, beidou, xinyan, diona. 

team xiao:  xiao, razor, diona, bennett.

team diluc:  diluc, xingqiu, sucrose, diona. 

DON’T BUILD NINGGUANG AS A SHIELDER.  i don’t think building ningguang for her shields is an efficient use of her abilities; ning is inherently made as a dps character, and all of her abilities are offensive, with her screen serving dual purposes as offensive and defensive.  molding all of her potential (normal attack, skill, burst) into a different role than initially designed will take more resources and you will make this an extra challenge for yourself.  if you want a shielder, why not try noelle, or diona, or xinyan?  they all have build-in shields that are more instantaneous and flexible than going out of your way to make ningguang a full support. 

shield strength made from geo interactions scales off of the elemental mastery of the character the shield is on.  think about this for a bit: shields made from geo crystals are the most effective when they match the element of the attack being dealt towards your character.  but this assumes that you can pick up that element to react with geo in the first place, which is impractical, considering that the only common enemies that have elements on them are abyss mages and whopperflowers - and even then, whopperflowers don’t generate those elements all the time on themselves.  so if you continue to build ningguang as a shielder, i’d say around 80% of the time in overworld, you won’t be making effective shields and are stunting her damage-dealing capabilities (because shielder ning would be stacked with elemental mastery instead of attack). 

USING TOO MANY DPS CHARACTERS?  again, this isn’t a problem in overworld.  in later adventure ranks, you’ll start realizing though that you won’t need the majority of your current team to be dps/damage-oriented.  practically, why would you load all of  your sources on damage when all of that damage isn’t necessary?  (that was just what i myself came to realize as well around ar40, so personal opinion right there.)  overworld is very lax though, so again i will stress, no need to fuss over team-comps in overworld.  

MAKE THEM TOO STRONG SO IT DOESN’T MATTER?  in overworld, yes, it is possible to do this.  you can absolutely solo-character-carry yourself with buff units, assuming you get good artifacts.  but i really, really would recommend you not focus on artifacts until around ar40+, and then start getting picky with them after ar45+.  this is because the endgame goal is to get all 5star artifacts for your main characters, since they provide the highest stats.  you are guaranteed at least one 5star artifact per level 90 artifact domain run starting at ar45, so if you try farming for them beforehand, a lot of your resin will be wasted.

on the off chance that you’re attempting hardcore spiral, i’ll put this here: in spiral, the logic “make them too strong [off of artifacts] so it doesn’t matter” flies straight out of the window.  you cannot solo-character-carry yourself through the later floors of spiral, especially floors 9-12.  not putting this next bit into boast, but just instead to prove my point: both my keqing and xiao (my main dps characters) have over 200% crit damage and over 55% crit rate, with over 1,800 attack each.  keqing has a maxed normal attack (level 10) and xiao has his ultimate maxed (level 10 as well).  both have, essentially, pay to play weapons.  i still get my ass kicked on floor 11.  

so, no, unless you are a whale, you can’t solo-character-carry yourself through spiral abyss.  in later spiral floors, you will need to get used to switching between characters, and building supportive characters like sucrose, bennett, xingqiu, diona, etc.  

VENTI OR ZHONGLI?  venit is broken in overworld.  he’s so accessible in co-op as well that i’m tempted to say venti > zhongli.  however, for spiral abyss floors 9-12, zhongli will actually be more useful than venti because venti’s ultimate won’t pick up the monsters in those floors, which is all he is practically useful for.  so from a practical, midcore/hardcore standpoint, i would recommend zhongli over venti for spiral. 

long answer, whew.  let me know if i can help with anything else!