Congrats on your milestone!! Love your writing and since you're doing the whole "milestone party" I would like to ask if you could write something about reader and first baby. It could be something like them being very happy in the beginning, anxious by the end of the pregnancy but in the first weeks after the baby is born everything being caotic, the reader is stressed and sometimes they fight for something silly and it could have a happy ending, maybe he preparing a special surprise for her, some smut and they kinda "reconnect"... I don't mind if it gets too big, I would appreciate if you like the idea, It can be sy or walter, their POV, the reader can have a name too if you'd like. Thank you so much and congratulations again 🎉🥳

Here comes the second fic for my milestone celebration 🥳

Dear nonie, thank you so much for your prompt 💜 I love it and it made me think of Walter and his bumblebee from my fic Closer immediately. So I hope you don't mind I made this a follow up.

I tried to include all your wishes and I hope you like the struggles, the fluff and the smut.

🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲

MAYBUG

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Summary: Walt and his wife are stressed out and enjoy a little escape. Follow-up to Closer

Words: ~ 1.8 k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+, Sex (p in v), fingering, dirty talking, kinda light breeding kink, masturbation, mentioning of sex toys and voyeurism, mentioning of problematic birth

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

Credits: pics for the header from pinterest.

I don't own Walter Marshall (unfortunately)

If you like this story, check out my masterlist!

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I'm sure it wasn't so stressful with Faye when she was a baby. She was a whirlwind, challenging her mum and me 24/7 as soon as she was able to walk but I'm pretty sure in the first year she was a little angel, not doing much more than sleeping, eating and lulling us into a false sense of security, making us think the peace would last forever.

Maybe it's gonna be the other way round with our little maybug. A chaotic first year and all the peace afterwards.

We've been on an emotional rollercoaster ride for almost two years now. Y/n stopped taking the pill shortly after our engagement and a few months before our wedding. I couldn't wait to get her pregnant, our sex life was great at that time, we did it as often as possible, having the time of our lives, enjoying each other and our deep connection. When my little bumblebee finally surprised me with a positive pregnancy test after 8 months of very intense trying, we were both beyond happy and completely over the moon and besides the usual pregnancy-related worries and difficulties everything went well.

That was until y/n went into labor and suddenly everything turned out to be very different from what we both had wished for. There was no calm atmosphere, no peaceful water birth but a lot of stress and anxiety instead when unexpected complications occured. I wasn't solid as a rock for her, I was a nervous wreck and very disappointed in myself but my wonderful wife was incredibly tough, fighting to be strong for both of us with fierce determination. She was no bumblebee that night, she was a hornet. In the end she had an emergency c-section and our little boy was born after almost 24 hours of labour on a mild Saturday night in May. When we finally held this perfect, beautiful little bundle of life in our arms all pain and fear was forgotten and we cried together for joy and gratefulness.

Now, six months later, we're still very happy, enjoying our family life and our time together. I've stepped back from work a little, doing office work mostly, staying away from the time consuming major cases. It's hard sometimes to be condemned to just watch my colleagues working in the front-line but I know it's worth it. I don't want to make the same mistakes again, the mistakes that ruined my first marriage and jeopardized my relationship with Faye. Besides that y/n needs my support, although she would never admit it. Our little maybug suffers from colic and cries a lot so she's constantly sleep-deprived and on top of that she tortures herself with self-reproach because breastfeeding didn't work and our baby son only gets formula, which -in her eyes- is the reason for his regular pain. She's constantly stressed out, tense and oversensitive and we fight over the most silly things.

When she had a nervous breakdown the other day because she hadn't managed to cook dinner for me after another night without sleep and a whole day of trying to calm down a crying baby in pain, I decided it was enough, that she needed a break, I needed a break and maybe even our little muffin needed a break from his worn out parents. So after y/n had a good cry on my shoulder, listening to my comforting words that made her relax a little, I made her her favorite sandwich, sent her to bed after she'd enjoyed it and took our little boy on a ride. He likes it when we drive around in my truck, the sonorous sound of the engine has a soothing effect on him and eventually he stopped crying and fell asleep, just as exhausted as his mom. I got myself a burger from the drive-through, ate it in the parking lot and I came up with an idea for a little treat for me and my wife.

And now here we are, sitting in the huge tub in the bathroom of a luxurious hotel suite in our hometown, just 20 minutes away from our little boy who's staying with y/n's sister for the weekend. It wasn't easy to convince my wife that he's going to survive one night without us and that we really need some time for us but now, after a romantic candle light dinner and a special treatment afterwards she really seems to enjoy our little escape.

"God, Walt...you were right, I needed this. The food was delicious and your massage worked wonders. Thank you so much, papa bear."

She's sitting in front of me in the steaming hot water that smells like tropical flowers, her body covered with lush foam, her back resting against my chest, her butt between my spread legs, pressing against my cock.

"Well, it wasn't a Tantra massage but I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway." I press a kiss on her hair and hug her from behind. "I enjoyed it too, by the way. My hands all over your wonderful backside, that was very sexy," I whisper in her ear before I start to caress her breasts while kissing her neck. Damn, I love her tits, even more now after the pregnancy. They are so soft, so welcoming and warm, plus they are bigger than before, perfect for burying my face in them or for a filthy boob fuck.

Y/n moans softly under my touch and I go on, determined to make this date night unforgettable. After a while I let one of my hands glide over her belly, that wonderful part of her body that has carried our child and that is so smooth beneath my rough palm. I feel the stretch marks she hates so much but I kinda love them. They're like a map that shows what she's been through and what the female body is capable of. For her it's a flaw, when I look at it I see nothing but strength. With that thought I slip my hand between her legs, stroking her pussy, my fingers gliding through her swollen folds, provoking one of these drawn, hoarse moans that always escape her mouth when she likes what I'm doing and that turn me on so much. She cranes her neck to look at me and I bent my head to kiss her. The kiss is slow and sensual, tasting sweet and promising. I moan into her mouth, one hand on her tit, kneading it intensely, giving her erect nipple some extra attention with my thumb, one hand on her pussy. I keep on stroking her clit while we make out and she moves her hips, rolling them slowly against my rock-hard cock.

"You like that, baby?" I want to know, panting into her ear.

"I like it a lot…", y/n sighs, bucking her hips. I know exactly what she wants.

"How about that?" I stretch my arm, shifting my position a little to penetrate her slowly with two fingers, brushing them against her g-spot with light pressure.

"Fuck...Walt…"

Her moans are getting louder with each thrust into her cunt, her hips moving rhythmically. I stimulate her clit with my thumb and I can tell she's close, putty in my hands, a whimpering, panting mess and I love it.

"Mommy's still my little whore, right?" I ask, my voice rough and thick with arousal and desire, my dick throbbing, pressed against her ass. "Look at you, riding my fingers like the good girl you are. I love how that feels…"

I fingerfuck her harder and it doesn't take her long to cum with a loud moan, my name on her lips on top of her orgasm. She rides it out slowly, breathing heavily and I give her some time to recover before I grab her by her waist, lift her up and make her sit down on my cock. I can't wait another second, I need to feel her from the inside, her tight pussy stretching around my thick dick. She sighs when she easily sinks down on it, starting to ride me immediately, eagerly, greedy. She's still hungry, ready for more, giving me a hard time to pull myself together. I'd love to just rail her, to thrust into her cunt mercilessly to reach my own high but what I want even more is to see her come undone again, to make her fall apart on my dick, milking it when she cums again. So I hold her hips in a vice-like grip, pressing her down and she stops moving, waiting for me to take over. I let go of her hips and fuck her slowly, thrusting into her from underneath, caressing her tits, showering her shoulders with sloppy kisses.

She follows the rhythm and the pace I set and we both moan in unison. She reaches between her legs and starts touching herself which turns me on even further. I love watching her when she pleasures herself. She was a little hesitant about in the beginning of our relationship but when I even bought her some toys, she believed me that it was okay to masturbate in my presence, that it drove me absolutely wild to watch her, that I would fuck her like a predator after seeing her cum just by the touch of her own hands, using the toys I had chosen and allowed her to use. Today is no exception. Her soft moans and appreciative sighs are music to my ears and as soon as I fix my eyes on her fingers that circle her clit, while she strokes the shaft of my pounding cock with her other hand, I lose my shit.

I press her against my body and fuck her so hard and fast that the water spills all over the edge of the tub. She comes again shortly after I orgasm with a noise that's half grunt and half growl, arising deep from within my chest. My balls tighten and when I feel my cum shooting through my dick her pussy clenches around me and her body is trembling on top of mine. She cries out loud when I fill her up with my seed and I'm sure she knows that I imagine breeding her, when I keep on thrusting lightly, not pulling out even after we've both come down from our highs and my hard-on softens.

I know we still have to wait a few months till she gets pregnant again because her body needs time to heal but I guess it doesn't hurt to practice as often as we feel like it and to dream of adding another little bug to our family.

🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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Reviewing Adventure Time graphic novel: “Thunder Road”

 by Jeremy Sorese (Steven Universe comic writer) and Zachary Sterling (Adventure Time main comic artist)

Okay, so after purchasing and reading it today, I can safely say the DESCRIPTION of this graphic novel is ENTIRELY INCORRECT: 

Marceline starts feeling restless and comes across a motorcycle gang of storm clouds. Taking this as a chance to try something new, Marceline sets off on the open road with her new friends but things take a turn when she realizes that the storm clouds might be taking things a bit too far when it comes to their pranks. Marceline has to make a choice, to join in and create a natural disaster bigger than Ooo has ever seen or to go back to her boring quiet life--luckily, the answer comes from an unexpected source who just happened to be trailing the clouds...for research, of course.

No, nonono. This doesn’t even remotely resemble what happens. 

Actually, there is still a motorcycle gang, but this isn’t really a book about Marceline - it’s mostly about a drama with Bubblegum, and how she ends up taking her frustration out on Marceline. It’s about some difficulties they have communicating with each other, too. 

The Candy Kingdom is being flooded by non-stop rain. Jake is acting as a giant canopy to try and protect the castle, but it’s not working, and everything is falling apart - candy people are getting seriously injured, and it seems this has been going on for weeks. Everybody is exhausted, and things are looking dire. This was an eerily familiar situation for me, living in the RCT, which got demolished by flooding last February before the Corona crisis, and which is still recovering.  They’re all working together to solve this crisis, and PB is glad to see Marceline caring about other people. Marceline flies up in the sky and discovers a motorcycle gang is making the clouds rain down. 

PB is entirely at her wits end, she yells at the motorcycle gang, gets bullied by them, and decides to challenge them to a race. If she wins, they leave. If they win, then they will drive all over the Candy Kingdom and destroy it. Bubblegum gets incredibly angry at herself for making such a reckless bet, when she’ll have to race in the goddamn sky, and she insists this problem is her fault, so she needs to solve it by herself.

Marceline gets fed up that PB wants to solve it by herself and is pushing her away, so as a ploy of reverse psychology she says, “Fine, I WON’T help”, and flies away to investigate the gang further.

Bubblegum thinks Marcie has fucked off and ditched them. Marceline hasn't actually given up on her - she tries to perform some secret reconnaissance, befriending the gang and sabotaging their bikes. Marceline returns bits of cloud to the kingdom as well, to a still-bitter PB who won’t thank her.  However, things turn for the worse when the biker gang discover the bikes were damaged, and they confront PB about the sabotage, with Marceline's life possibly on the line.

Thankfully, the gang let Marceline go. Bubblegum proper goes off on Marceline for not trusting her to be able to do things by herself, while Marceline says that she should have just accepted help in the first place. They have a falling out. Marceline is upset that PB keeps taking out her anger on her, and lashes out a bit, tells PB this is her fault so she’s on her own. 

Shenanigans ensue. After a tense and highly dangerous bike race, Bubblegum manages to scrape a victory - without Marceline’s help - due to electromagnetic shenanigans with her cloud bike’s fuel tank.

I don’t want to post images of the race, because it has some awesome moments that I want you to see for yourself in the novel. 

However, she realises she had accidentally cheated, and apologises to Marceline for taking everything out on her earlier - she says that it shouldn’t be that way, that she shouldn’t just get mad at Marceline whenever she’s stressed.   

She tells Marcie that she doesn't want to treat her like shit every time she has a bad day.

They have a motorbike race. PB forgets Marceline can fly, and drives off a cliff to save her. Marceline ends up saving PB. Lots of cute moments. 

It turns out, also, that PB has become a bit of a legend in the sky biker community. 

[EDIT: I just realised the jackets say “We Talked It Out”! They’re proud that they were able to have a conversation about their problems! Awwwww]

So, this comic seems to take place during season 6. Most likely between The Cooler and Hot Diggety Doom - when PB is still kind of hyper-aggro and overworked, but is trying to cool down, and when Marceline hasn’t learnt how to communicate properly with her.   At the same time, the stakes are high enough that it does make sense for the characters to behave in this way at ANY time after Sky Witch, provided it’s not after the series finale.    Finn, notably, still has his right arm. He doesn’t pick up a sword. If he did, I might have been able to directly tell where this fit in the show’s continuity.  

Anyway, it’s outstanding. Easily the best of the Adventure Time graphic novels I’ve read. What I loved is how tense the situation really felt, how the emotions the characters were feeling were extensions of what they would feel if this happened in the show. It didn’t feel out of character for PB to be breaking down and acting like a tool, or for Marceline to be secretive and indirect, and then lash out a bit when PB hurts her. It was an awesome character study on their relationship and how it could have its toxic moments.   The situation seemed genuinely dire. The biker gang were genuinely hateable and intimidating. The threat they made to the characters felt real, which is rare for this show. And the emotional moments hit me hard.  It works super well after watching Obsidian, wherein you saw PB in the past take her anger out on Marcie and how that contributed to their breakup. 

It also has Marcie and PB racing around on motorbikes, which is funny because that's what they did in Obsidian.

You can tell that Jeremy Sorese did work on SU comic stuff, because he does a good job at capturing those brief emotions, those epic moments, that SU did so well. This comic is also more dramatic than the usual AT flare. 

The art is okay. It is in graphic novel format, and it’s meant to look a lot like the show. It is nice and colourful. It is clean, and sells emotions perfectly fine. However, Zachary Sterling has historically had issues drawing the arms of the characters - he makes them look far too much like stiff bendy tubes, when they are more free-form and can bend at full right-angles in the show. I feel like he was trying to stay too on-model, and didn’t take his art to its full potential. Some panels are also recycled and slightly edited. 

8/10 - A good read for fans of PB and Marcy, a plot with convincing tension from the first page, with an interesting character study on how PB’s stress can cause her to hurt the people closest to her and she needs to manage that.  However, the description on the back of the book is entirely incorrect for no reason. Well worth the £11 I spent to get a paperback copy sent today. 

You can buy a copy on Amazon for same day delivery. You used to be able to buy a copy on Comixology, but for some reason, it’s been removed. 

hi! i wanted to say i love reading your reflections on teaching, and in general i really look up to/am inspired by your thoughts regarding education and academia. if it's not too much to ask (completely understandable if it is, in that case please disregard!) i would love to get your advice on college related things?

i had pretty significant academic struggles throughout grade school, and ended up dropping out of college after a year. i would've graduated this may, so lately i've been considering going back and finishing my bachelor's. but i've been waffling on this decision because of 1) anxiety about having to drop out again, and 2) some confusion about what i actually want to study. i guess i'm wondering, is it worth it to start from scratch? my struggles were mostly about mental health stuff & difficulty keeping up with coursework—i loved being in the classroom, working with professors, learning from other students. i like being challenged intellectually, but if i have issues with followthrough, is there a way to work on that??? i know these are Big Questions, lol--whether they are answerable or not, cheers and thank you and i hope you are doing well these days. <3

hey! happy to give my thoughts, for what they're worth. you know your situation better than i do so the specifics may or may not be relevant, but i can give some advice just based on seeing lots of students pass through four-year programs!

i've worked with a number of students who took time away from college and came back to finish later. i took a year off myself in the middle of college for mental health reasons, though my school allowed you to take a two-semester leave of absence for any reason (so i always had the safety net of knowing i could come back without having to reapply or start over). in my experience, time away is almost always a good thing. sometimes people just really need that break from the stressors of the college environment! but more importantly, i think people benefit from having a few years' experience living and working in the world.

even though it can be intimidating to come back to college as an older student, i think older students or nontraditional students who took time off and came back tend to underestimate how much more confident and assured in themselves they'll be once they're back in the classroom. working out in the world for a while, even if it's not a job that you especially love or feel is relevant to your long-term goals, tends to help you build more trust in your own ability to get stuff done, manage responsibilities, and be an adult person in the world. in your time away, you've probably grown more than you think, and you may find that some of the things you struggled with at 18 just don't feel as daunting anymore. or they might feel daunting, but you also have more experience talking and working with other people, and you may feel more confident in seeking out & using your college's various academic success resources.

have you considered a two-year college as a possible next step? one of my advisees this year was an adult student who went to college for a year, dropped out, served in the military for four years, came back to do an associate's degree, and decided he liked school enough that he wanted to transfer to our university and finish his degree. (now he's going on to do a phd next fall!!!!) he's one of the most passionate advocates for community colleges i've ever met, and he's stayed actively involved in our local CC community & now mentors recent transfer students at our university. he's talked at length about how CCs are this amazing way for students to explore their interests without having to take on the huge price tag of a four-year degree, within a learning community that's much warmer, more responsive to student needs, and more accepting of the diverse paths that lead people to & through higher education. i wonder if you might consider taking a semester or a year of courses at your local CC, to dip your toes back in and see if you're still feeling energized by the experience.

you might find that some of the courses aren't intellectually challenging enough, but this might also be a wonderful opportunity to create the kind of learning experience you want to have. i was a full-time community college student for a year during my year away from yale, and while i'm sure i was just INSUFFERABLE in many ways, i had a prof in my Western Civ course who was really generous with his time/energy and met with me outside of class to help me figure out how to make the papers into something that i found really exciting and challenging to write. so the class kind of became what i made of it, and i got to read some stuff (dostoevsky!!!) that sent me down all kinds of interesting unexpected rabbitholes. the former CC grad i mentioned above was an extraordinarily bright student who would always go to office hours and ask his profs for more recommended readings, and he ended up becoming a TA for one of his courses and helped them redesign basically their entire intro humanities curriculum as a student advisor. so your CC experience can absolutely be what you make of it. and even if your profs can't give you that kind of support, you could practice doing it for yourself, setting little challenges for yourself either focused on the intellectual aspects ('I'm going to read and cite two scholarly sources in this paper, even though it's not required') or on developing strategies for effectively managing the workload ('I'm going to schedule a writing center appointment on Thurs, so I have to finish this paper two days before the deadline—and then I can devote my weekend study time to practicing for my Spanish test').

CC would be a slightly lower stakes environment for you to try out college again— lower-stakes both in the sense that it's cheaper (so if you decide you don't want to continue, you're not out as much money / don't feel compelled to go on to justify the debt you've taken on) and in the sense that the workload might be more manageable for you as you readjust to academic life and build systems & structures that work for you. as you probably have gathered from this blog, i am a HUGE believer in doing lower-stakes things many times over to build your own confidence and your trust in yourself, and then gradually scaling up the difficulty. by the time you reach the hard thing, you've already built up this strong image of yourself as a person who can handle challenges (and you've also had the chance to identify areas where you struggle & experiment with developing workable solutions).

if a two-year college isn't something you're especially interested in, i think it's definitely possible to start a four-year degree again. if that's the path you choose, i would strongly recommend reaching out to students in some of the degree programs you're tentatively interested in. people are almost always happy to share their ~wisdom~ (see: this ask response, lol) and most people love being asked for their thoughts on the pros and cons of something they know well. so you could get an honest sense from students of what the program is like, what the workload is like, and how useful or engaging people find the required courses for the degree. but also know that it's pretty normal to take courses all over in your first year or two (you have the advantage of having done a freshman year before, so you probably know this!), so you might just want to plan to try out a bunch of different things, with the goal of narrowing your focus by the end of your first year, or midway through your second.

i would also HIGHLY recommend spending lots of time familiarizing yourself with the resources your university has to offer. learn everything you can about the kind of mental health counseling and support they offer to students, and see if there are things you can set up in advance for yourself before you even step foot on campus. for instance, our university offers individual counseling, but they also have free groups that meet every week or two around different topics (coping with stress, students in recovery, etc) that are led by a counselor. check out your university's writing center or peer tutoring centers, too, and set up a standing appointment once a month or once a week or whatever, to bring in something you're working on—so that you know that every week, you're going to talk with someone about what's going well and what you're struggling with in your assignments.

you might also want to look into your university's services for students with disabilities office, as they can help you figure out if you are eligible for various kinds of accommodations or additional support (extra time on exams, notetaking services, recorded lectures, etc). i know you mentioned that you've dealt with academic struggles in grade school, too. if you think it's possible that there may be underlying learning differences that are affecting your academic work, it might be worth seeing if they can help you find lower-cost testing, so you can get a diagnosis that qualifies you for additional accommodations and university support.

many schools, esp large public universities, also have resource centers and mentoring programs for students from specific demographics who may benefit from additional structure and support in their early years of college. my university has a variety of resource centers and programs for students from low-income backgrounds, first-gen students, students who transferred from community college, etc. you don't have to take advantage of ALL of these resources, but proactively establishing a support network long before you need it is a really good way to set yourself up for success. and even just doing the research will probably help you feel more confident in your capacity to 'follow through', since you'll know that you're going into this with your eyes wide open AND with a detailed plan for what to do if you run into some of the same obstacles you encountered the first time around.

speaking of detailed plans: i find it helpful sometimes to do IF-THEN exercises with students when they're stressed about something on the horizon or unsure about whether they can handle some new challenge. IF-THEN is just what it sounds like: 'IF this thing I'm nervous about happens, THEN I'm going to do X, Y, or Z.' what i like about this exercise (i use it with myself too aha) is that it acknowledges that sometimes the thing you're dreading DOES happen. sometimes the professor you emailed for an extension says no. sometimes the TA doesn't understand why you're confused about the assignment. sometimes you don't have time to finish the reading before class. sometimes you overschedule yourself and you have to pull an all-nighter to finish two papers on the same night. scary things, confidence-shaking things, happen all the time, but they are rarely fatal! and there can be something really powerful about acknowledging and naming the thing you're concerned about, and then generating a few next steps you could take, should the thing you're dreading come to pass. i could see you doing something like this as you start thinking about the things that tripped you up last time, or made it difficult for you to balance the workload. if X happens, then what could you try next? giving yourself a few options means that you already have backup plans, too, which can make the whole situation less terrifying. if this happens, i might have to try this, or this, or this, and those things might not be the most fun or the easiest to do or the 'best' thing academically, but they'll get me through this difficult moment mostly in one piece, and once i'm through it i can look back on it and learn from it, or adjust the structures i've built for myself moving forward, to reduce the chance that X happens again.

PHEW!!! sorry this got so long but that is just the RISK YOU TAKE when sending me anons 😅 i hope that some of this is helpful to you, or at least sparks some useful thinking for you, even if it's not all directly applicable to your situation. i would say that if you love learning and find being in the classroom exhilarating, then you should absolutely go back to college! but that doesn't mean you have to go back right away, or that you have to go back and do it exactly the same way you did the first time. there are lots of possible paths to higher ed, and there's no particular rush—college will always be there, if it's something you decide you want now or at some future point in your life. i would also just reiterate again one of the core Themes of This Blog, which is that the brain is NEUROPLASTIC, and that humans have a truly astounding amazing capacity to change, grow, and learn new things (including new ways of getting around old obstacles or working through old challenges). just because you struggled the first time doesn't mean you are doomed to repeat that pattern. if you can spend some time thoughtfully reflecting on what you found most difficult to manage the first time through, you are better equipped to make plans, design new structures for yourself, and build the support networks that will help you thrive in college.

The Call of A Siren - Chap. 5

Chapter One / Two / Three / Four

A/N: I’d like to thank seenalready for agreeing to be my beta! It’s been a huge help. Also, thank you to those who not only took the time to read but to favorite, follow, review, or leave me a message on this story!

I don’t own My Hero Academia. I only own my own characters and the story I create within Horikoshi’s masterpiece of a world I’d love to live in.

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“So how’s school going, Cordelia?” Her father asked while passing her the mashed potatoes. She smiled as she plopped some on her plate. “It’s going fine. Just some normal start of the year stuff.”

Her mother was cutting her baby brother’s food into small pieces across from her. “Make any new friends? You didn’t have any last year.” Delia ignored that small barb. Her mother was Miss Popularity when she was in school - something she was reminded of constantly in these small sweet ways. 

“Yes, mom. No official friends yet but definitely some classmates I seem to get along with fine.” 

“Give her time, Amaya. She’ll make friends but make sure not to forget to focus on your studies. Bells always get top marks in school. Right, Cordelia?” Her father is ever the peacemaker between them but always manages to slip in his opinion in the same sentence. She hoped neither of them noticed how tense she became, because despite going ahead with her plan of secretly attending U.A she still hated lying. She was good at it but hated it. She distracted herself and took herself out of the conversation by wiping the gravy off of Henry’s mouth who just painted more on with every uncoordinated bite. 

Later in her room, she made sure all her U.A stuff was hidden because her parents, especially her mother, who didn’t believe her children were entitled to privacy. She would deny it until she was blue in the face even when Delia confronted her with obvious evidence. Delia would find some things moved or pockets left unzipped that were closed when she left for school or a run so now she just made sure anything she didn’t want discovered to be hidden. She had hiding places in between her mattress and bed frame, one in a loose floorboard by her dresser, a notebook taped behind her desk, in her suitcase in the back of her closet, and it goes on. Her mom wasn’t too creative in looking but Delia didn’t want to take any chances. She changed into pink leggings and an old Mayday Parade t-shirt and went for her usual run to the beach. 

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Shake it out, shake it out

Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, oh whoa

'Cause I am done with my graceless heart

So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

'Cause I like to keep my issues strong

It's always darkest before the dawn

 Delia laid on her back in the grass to catch her breath as she ran an extra mile on the sand today before running back. Once again, she was grateful to have a park like this near home to gather herself before returning home. 

She had her eyes closed as she listened to Florence and the Machine but opened them when a shadow came over her. Angry Boy stood over her and his mouth was moving but because of how  loud her headphones were she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She rolled her eyes and closed them again as she felt no need to listen to his rant during her peaceful time.

Her left earbud was roughly yanked out of her ear. “I was talking to you, dumbass!”

She rubbed her ear and glared up at him. “So? Since when do I have to listen to you?” 

“Move out of my spot.”

“Uh, yeah no.”

“Move before I make you.”

“Try it, Big Tits.” She raised her eyebrow at him in challenge because she knew damn well he couldn’t use his Quirk here without getting in trouble. It was far more noticeable than hers which she would definitely use if he tried to physically move her. Knowing this, he growled and stomped over to his workout bag a few feet over. He picked it up and then threw it on the ground practically on top of her legs. “Fine, brat. If you won’t move, I’m working out right here still.” 

Delia was going to push it further, but her watch beeped signaling she should start heading back home. “Saved by the bell, jerk.” Pushing herself up onto her feet, she kicked his bag off her leg and brushed off some  grass on her shorts. 

“Yeah, fucking sure brat. I’m saved.” Delia rolled her eyes and walked away a few steps before stopping and turning back towards him, unable to help herself from asking. 

“Why did you do that?” 

He was already doing sit-ups in the spot she had just vacated. “Because you were in my spot, idiot.” 

“No. Not that. Battle training.” Bakugo slowed to a stop for a moment and then continued like she hadn’t said anything. 

She tried again. “Was it worth it?”

No answer again but he picked up the pace on his sit-ups. Delia hummed, “Thought so.” She went to turn away when he finally spoke up, “I kicked that weakling’s ass. Its always worth it to put Deku in his fucking place.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with her. Delia pursed her lips and turned away finally. Before she went out of hearing distance she said one last thing, “You didn’t put him in his place. It seems more like you were shown yours. It wasn’t as high as you thought it was, was it?” 

___________________________________________________________

As she jogged back home on the trail, she could feel those red eyes trying to burn a hole in her back. 

As she walked up the hill to U.A, she was fiddling with her stupid tie when she heard a lot of voices. Looking up from what she was doing, Delia saw a mini army of reporters covering the entrance of the school. 

“Oh, crap!” Delia started to panic as she realized she had to go through them to get inside. She grabbed some sunglasses from her bag and took her hair out of her usual braid and tried to cover her face. They were jumping on students as soon as they got close, but Delia wasn’t having that. 

“Hey, kid!” Someone put their hand on her shoulder. Nope nope nope! Shaking them off, she passed Uraraka and Iida getting questioned and walked even faster. A few other reporters tried to get her attention, but she was not risking getting caught on her second week of school by her mother seeing her on the morning news. 

Mr. Aizawa was  in the front of all the reporters to stand guard and crossed his arms as a particularly aggressive woman demanded All Might. Delia was safe now on school grounds but didn’t dare to take her glasses off or fix her hair until  she was in the building. Out of curiosity, she peeked through her hair to see Mr. Aizawa finally walking away and an aggressive reporter took a step too far only for these giant alarms to start throwing up walls all around the school. Ha, serves you right, Delia thought a bit smugly.  

She finally fixed her hair into a braid when their homeroom teacher walked in and called them to attention. He ruffled some papers and then addressed the class on their performances from last week’s combat training with All Might. “Decent work on last week’s combat training, you guys. Due to technical difficulties, I wasn’t able to review the video feeds until yesterday. I went over every team's results. Bakugo. You’re talented. So don’t sulk like a child about your loss, okay?” Delia fought to keep her face straight as she was seated in front where Mr. Aizawa could easily reprimand her if she didn’t. “ And Midoriya. I see the only way you won the match was by messing up your arm again. Work harder. And don’t give me that excuse that you don’t have control because it’s already getting old.” 

He called out a few other students with some advice before she heard, “Bell. I see you have the ability to think and react quickly as shown in your battle, but you have a long way to go with understanding your Quirk. That is basic and essential. You need to work on that as of last week.” 

She nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

When he finished, Mr. Aizawa switched gears to something a little more mundane. “You all need to pick a class representative.”

Kirishima stood up with his hands in the air, “Pick me, guys! I wanna be class rep!”

Kaminari raised his hand, “I’ll take it.” Jiro followed suit with her hand up as well, “Yeah, you’re gonna need me.” Ashido and Aoyama threw their hats in the ring too. Bakugo even started yelling behind her to be elected. Delia, despite knowing what a big deal it would be, just sunk further in her seat wanting no part of it. 

“Silence, everyone, please!” Iida grabbed everyone’s attention to tell them the responsibilities of class rep when she decided who better for this job than Mr. Responsibility and Lecture himself? She was sure he’d thrive at the job as he already organized how they would choose and simultaneously advocated for himself. 

She snorted when Aizawa basically told them to figure it out before his nap was over and curled up in his weird yellow sleeping bag on the floor. Despite how strict he was, Delia loved how weird their teacher was. 

After everyone handed Iida their small pieces of paper with their vote written, he quickly and very neatly wrote the results with his shoulders slumping along the way. 

Izuku Midoriya - 3

Momo Yaoyorozu - 2

Well, that was unexpected and immediately questioned by even Midoriya himself. Who exclaimed, “How did I get three votes?” 

She turned in her seat when Angry boy slammed his hands on his desk, “Okay, you idiots, who voted for him?” Delia raised her eyebrow at him, “You mean instead of you?”

“What, did you honestly think anyone was gonna vote for you?” Sero said. She barked out a laugh at that and put her hand up in a high five. Sero returned the gesture while Bakugo fumed even more. 

“What did you idiots say?!”

“Hey, Bell!” Delia’s head snapped up from her tray and saw Uraraka waving at her from a table. “Come and sit with us!” 

“Thanks, guys. What’s up?” She greeted as she sat down next to Midoriya. 

“Hi, Bell. We were just talking about how Midoriya would be a great class rep. His courage and quick thinking will help make him a worthy leader. Not to mention the strength you’ve demonstrated. Those are the reasons I voted for you, at least.” Iida explained before taking the next bite of his lunch. 

She nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’ll be great.” 

Uraraka looked puzzled. “Iida, didn’t you want to be rep really badly? I mean you look the part cause of the glasses!” 

“ Well, that's not exactly how you should base things.” Delia jokes, pointing her fork at the small brunette. She just shrugged in response and grabbed another ball of white rice. 

“Wanting a job and being suited to it are quite different things. Observing the Iida family’s hero agency has taught me that much.” 

“Right there. That’s why I voted for you.” Delia pointed her pork at him before shoving the deliciousness in her mouth. Ugh, I’d go to this school for the food alone.

Iida had his mouth open as he stared at her, “You were my one vote?” 

She smiled at him, “Well, yeah! You seem perfect for the job to me based on everything I’ve seen so far.” Her eyes widened when she remembered who she was sitting next to and waved her hands at the boy, “No offense, Midoriya! You’ll be great at it as I said.” He waved her off before turning his attention back to Iida.

Taking a few more bites, she heard her phone chirp in her pocket. She pulled it out to see that her mother had texted her. 

Mom: Cordelia, we are having dinner with Josephine this Friday at 7. Make arrangements to pick up Henry from the babysitter’s house. I’ll write the address on the fridge. 

She rolled her eyes but sent back a quick ‘okay’ that she will pick him up. Whenever her sister was free, they ran to her side to devote all attention to their favorite child. It probably helped that their favorite child encouraged it every chance she got which irritated Delia to no end. 

Brrrrrrriiiiiinnnnggggggg. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts as the bell went off abruptly. 

“Warning. Level Three security breach. All students please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion.” 

Orderly fashion, my ass! Everyone was soon swept into a massive mob of pushing and shoving which Delia did not care for. 

“Ow! Goddamn watch those elbows dude!” She held her side and then was shoved against the window next to Iida. “Oh seriously! Iida look out the window!” 

“Who would dare try and - it's the press that was outside!” He immediately tried to yell to everyone which proved useless. She heard Kaminari and Kirishima trying to calm the herd as well, but that wasn’t working either. “Iida we have to tell everyone that it’s just the stupid media!” Delia yelled to him as her face was smushed up against the glass. 

“I have an idea, Bell. I need Uraraka! Will you be okay?”

“Go and stop this, and then I’ll be fine!” She used her free hand and helped shove him forward to their poor classmate who was getting dragged away by the frenzy. Her braid was then yanked which caused her to smack her forehead  against the glass again. Freaking jesus! Calm the fuck down people! C’mon Iida! 

She managed to get her head up in time to see Iida flip thirty times in the air then smack into the wall above the exit sign. Ouch. 

“Listen up, everything is okay!” With that, everyone stopped pushing and looked up at the guy balancing on an exit sign. “It’s just the media outside. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. Everything’s fine! We’re UA students. We need to remain calm and prove that we’re the best of the best.” 

Within the next half hour, the police pushed back the reporters and the teachers came inside to corral them back to class. Delia clapped a hand on Iida’s back who blushed a bit when she said,  “That’s why I voted for you.”

__________________________________________________________

 In a strange turn of events, Midoriya had stepped down as their elected class rep and nominated Iida in his place. Something that made Delia grin when he walked up to the podium with barely concealed pride and immediately went into his responsibilities. She especially liked that he sent a nod her way with a small smile before strutting back to his seat.

“Now that’s out of the way.” Aizawa rose from the corner where he was attempting a short nap and slipped out of his sleeping bag. “We can head to the training room for Combat class. Everyone change into your gym clothes and meet me in ten minutes.” 

A few minutes later, Delia sat on the floor next to Jiro and Tsu stretching. Aizawa was already setting up a row of punching bags while they waited for the rest of the class to trickle in from the locker rooms. 

“Yo, whassup girls?” Jiro, Tsu, and Delia turned to see Kirishima and Kaminari heading over to them on the mat. They plopped down next to them. “Hey, guys. Ready for training?” Delia asked as she turned to Jiro with hands outstretched. Jiro caught on to what she wanted and had her feet meet hers and grabbed onto one another's arms then pulled back to stretch Delia’s back. 

“Oh, we’re ready. So pumped to finally get into real hero stuff!” Kirishima pumped his fist in the air with excitement. 

“It’s a bummer that it’s a non-quirk class though. I was feeling extra juiced today!” 

“This is even more manly in a way, Kaminari! Real combat without quirks can be a whole ‘nother level of seeing what you’re made of!” He said to the blonde who shrugged in response. 

Delia slowly pulled back to stretch Jiro and laughed at the boys, “I agree. You don’t need a quirk to punch someone in the face which can be just as great as electrocuting them.” 

The class was finally assembled and facing their teacher who stood over them with a small tablet in hand. “Alright, class. As you know this is our Non-Quirk Combat Class which is self-explanatory so if you weren’t aware of that already you shouldn’t be in my class anymore. Now, we are going to start with basics to see where everyone stands before we up the ante. Grab a spot in front of a bag, and we will be doing basic 1-2 punches until I say stop.” Aizawa quickly demonstrated what he meant with the correct form and then shooed them towards the bags he had set up earlier. 

Delia grabbed a bag in between Midoriya and Todoroki who was already hitting the bag with perfect form. Seems like he’s done this before. She curled her hands as Aizawa showed them and hit the bag. Huh. She side-eyed Todoroki before trying again. It felt awkward at first but once she found a rhythm...Man this feels great! Her knuckles were beginning to hurt as she hit as hard as she could but she sort of liked it. The past week and a half had been stressing her out and running was usually her only outlet, but she was finding this was a great way as well. 

“Midoriya, turn your back foot a bit more. Good.” She heard her teacher making the rounds as the class hit the bags non-stop. “Good, Bell and Todoroki. Keep it up.” Delia practically glowed and hit the bag with even more energy than before. 

Through the first half of the class, they were shown punches, kicks, and then some fighting moves when they were joined by Ectoplasm.  He demonstrated some defensive and offensive maneuvers before the class was split into partners to practice for the remainder of class.

Delia was paired with Kaminari which was fine as she had nothing against the good-natured albeit immature guy, but the moves involved getting physical with your partner. She had played twister as a kid but not for some time and never held hands with a guy much less threw her whole body at them. Oh my god, you prude. Get over it. She chided herself.

Kaminari gave a confidant smile and squared up to her, “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll take it easy on ya.” 

Delia raised an eyebrow at him, “You’ll take it easy on me? How kind of you.” Okay, nerves have left the building and have been replaced by a mini super pro feminist ready to hand him his ass. 

Their teachers had them go through the motions one step at a time collectively as a class before they were given the go ahead to let loose. As soon as Ectoplasm gave the green light, Delia felt a bit more solid with  her moves and was ready to try in real time especially since Kaminari hadn’t lost his smirk. “Ready, babe?” 

“Let’s go, Sparky.” Ectoplasm hit a buzzer and Kaminari swung at her almost immediately, but she grabbed his wrist and pulled towards her. Before he could react, she used the momentum of pulling him to knee him in the stomach (reminding herself to not use full strength as this was training). While he was coughing, she swept her leg under his causing him to fall on his back. 

“Did I take it easy enough? Cutie?” Delia stood over him grinning. Kaminari held a hand on his stomach and grimaced. “Okay, point taken.” 

Delia huffed a laugh and held her hand out to him which he grabbed tentatively like she was going to hit him again. Pulling the blonde up, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Bakugo was standing coolly across the room with his hands in his pockets while Sero got himself off the ground. He looked away when he saw her looking back at him. Hmm. 

Bakugo:

He would never admit it, but he was impressed on how quickly the brat took down the blonde idiot. However,  he also would never admit that he was watching her in the first place as his eyes slid over to her laughing with her partner as she helped him off the ground. Katsuki chalked it up to pure convenience of sight as he had laid out the guy he was fighting in about five seconds, and she was in his direct line of vision. Since the park, what she had said unsettled him. Katsuki couldn’t get it out of his head and hated that she got under his skin and then walked the fuck away with the last word. 

As if she could sense him, the brat turned towards him curiously. Shit. 

Katsuki looked back down at his partner who was now getting off the floor and rolled his eyes. Tch. I didn’t hit him that hard. Fucking wimp. 

“Hit the lockers. You’re done today.” Aizawa announced. Ectoplasm had left already. “Remember to make sure you do the assigned reading and grab the extra worksheets on my desk before leaving for home. We are skipping Ethics tomorrow for a longer class activity.” 

A longer Quirk Training Combat Class, he meant. His eyes flitted to stupid Deku who was flapping his arms at some round face girl and then over to the brat who was walking back to the girls locker room. He was ready for his next combat class despite what the annoying girl said. He was going to be number one and damn anyone who got in his way of that. 

He pushed the locker room door hard enough that the purple dumbass who was walking before him flew forward across the room but Katsuki was too in his head to bother looking where he landed. He kept seeing those stupid blue eyes looking at him, judging and unimpressed. He shook his head as if to shake the image out of his head.  I don’t need anyone's damn approval. 

unfiltered and massively spoiler filled thoughts on RE8 below the cut [MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD]:

The Good

The first half of the game

The initial village segment and the castle portion and even “the house in the mist” sections were all pretty taut and well put together. i loved exploring the castle - was more than a little disappointed that you get locked out after Alcina’s boss fight, i didn’t explore it fully D: - and the unexpected terror of Donna’s section really pulled me out of the sense of comfort i had started to fall into, right as i was saying to myself “this hasn’t been scary at all”

The return of some series high notes

Revisiting things in previous Resident Evil games is not always a bad thing. I really enjoyed the return of weapon customization and treasures, those were aspects i enjoyed in RE4 and RE5. The return of the Merchant, in the form of the Duke, was welcome as well. The Duke is a G - he’s a good guy and i respected him most

Graphics, scenery, etc.

It’s a pretty game to look at, there’s no getting around that. I liked the set pieces, especially the Castle portion

Ammo crafting

Now this was something i greatly enjoyed. There are often times you get too much ammo for the gun you use least or you run out of ammo in harder difficulty levels. Being able to collect scrap material and make your own ammo was a very nice addition that i greatly appreciated

The Bad

(some of these are going to be personal opinions about the storytelling and narrative choices, so be prepared for that)

Pacing and direction

RE7 was a return to the series’ “roots”: so back to the footnotes of RE1 and RE2. If that was the case with 7, then RE8 did a speed run of RE3, Code Veronica, RE4, RE5, and RE6 all at once.

I know i said earlier revisiting hallmarks from previous games isn’t a bad thing, and it’s not - but while RE7 did it masterfully with sticking to mainly RE1 and RE2 and pulling in just a few old hallmarks, RE8 went absolutely buck wild in trying to cram in as many past enemy types and encounters as possible. A callback to one standout enemy is one thing, ala the Stalker type that is Mr. X, Nemesis, and Ustanak that Lady Dimitrescu also serves as...but then also the giant water monster from RE4, the Executioner of RE5, the “chainsaw” enemies (here, drills instead) of RE4, RE5, and RE6. hell, even the Lycans after a time started to feel very Las Plagas-esque in their ability to use weapons and track and coordinate. And you can’t tell me you didn’t see very similar designs/similarities between Miranda’s boss battle that you did with Alexia’s in Code Veronica...

The pacing started off solid with the initial few segments, but quickly seemed to lose its footing once it oscillated violently between wildly different styles of play and storytelling and didn’t regain its stride the rest of the game. One moment, it’s classic RE. The next, it’s P.T. + Outlast. The next, back to “a mash up of action and horror, leaning more on action” styles of RE4 + RE5. Then the finale straight up started to feel like an entirely different game before you reached that final boss fight - it felt like i was jerked in one direction one minute, and a completely different one the next

There is a lot of exposition and explaining that doesn’t happen until legit the last 45 or so minutes. Not new for the series to withhold information until the back half of the game, but there was legit almost no build up to the very sudden plot bombs that got dropped successively in the last throes of the story. Previous games rewarded you with fragments at a fairly even pace - i felt like all of RE8′s story gets dropped on you in a single monologue and a handful of notes just before the endgame

I’m not even gonna go that deep into how hard it was to keep up with all the different infection methods the mold managed to have - it was just A Lot and i’ve played a lot of Resident Evil in the past, so i know just how many different ways a single pathogen can have on humans and animals...and it still felt excessive

I honestly felt like the third segment with Moreau wasn’t even necessary. they really played up these “four lords” to not have them do a whole lot of anything. and i know there’s always been mini bosses before you actually reach the final Big Bad, but seriously, Moreau’s segment can be blitzed through in a span of 20 minutes or so first playthrough. the castle segment with Dimitrescu was solid, the house segment with Donna was nightmare fuel, lmfao, but still engaging and challenging. by the time you get to the third and sprint right through, you’re left wondering what the point of it even was. you can tell that was the least cared about narrative arc in the whole story

A giant point of note is that a huge chunk of RE8′s story could have been avoided or altered had Chris just actually fucking spoken to Ethan at the start about what the fuck was going on. And for him not to is completely unlike Chris past RE5 and RE6, that made no narrative sense whatsoever. Just another opportunity to pile on some more trauma and guilt onto Chris’ shoulders by making him “responsible” for Ethan being pushed to far and dying as a result

“Ethan actually ‘died’ when first meeting Jack Baker and was completely taken over by mold, it’s a big secret to everyone but Mia. also, he’s gone too far, there’s no saving him, he had to die”

You’re going to tell me that Ethan still being infected or impacted by the mold from RE7 is some big secret??? did the BSAA not run tests on him and Mia to make sure they were back to normal levels??? how do they not know?!? the government was able to figure out that Sherry’s exposure to the G Virus altered her permanently and study her healing capabilities, how the fuck was that not the same with Ethan???

Also, how is it that the mold’s impact on him is so much higher? he was at the Baker estate for like, 2 days max and while, yes, he did sustain some serious damage, he never fell prey to Eveline’s control and showed absolutely no signs of infection outside of being able to heal/use his hand after it was chopped off. and depending on how you played RE7, the only major injury he sustains aside from probable bruising or broken bones is that hand being cut off as mentioned before

You’re also going to tell me of the number of Resident Evil characters who have been infected with viruses and parasites and what have you and have been cured or had the negative effects negated, Ethan was the only one “too far gone” to be saved??? Jill got infected with T Virus, Claire has been infected by two separate viruses, Leon has survived a parasite infection, both Zoe and Mia were exposed to mold for years and seem to be okay...why is it that Ethan was the only one who couldn’t be saved? because he “died”? how in the world did he get infected so fast - he’d been there an hour, max! - that he was able to be revived in the first place and it wasn’t even noticeable that he had changed at all???

“the BSAA can’t be trusted anymore, they’re involved in shady shit, like deploying bioweapons into battle”

we already went through this a bit back in Revelations 1 with the blackmailed director and double agents. but to full on go “well, the entire organization is now dirty” after it was legit founded by Chris, Jill, and Barry to combat bioterrorism really sits wrong with me. all i can think is that they are running out of villains at this point and now are poising the BSAA to be a Big Bad in the future. which, again, doesn’t sit right with me

Retconning

Tying Ozwell E. Spencer back to Miranda wasn’t such a huge dealbreaker for me, but it is a bit obnoxious to now have to go back and amend “he came up with the idea for Umbrella and its pursuits with Marcus and Ashford, its other founding members” to “well, he didn’t actually come up with the idea for Umbrella and its research with Marcus and Ashford, he already had the idea from his time spent with Miranda uwu”

More so, the retconning around Eveline is a bit of a pain in the ass. So she only came about as a result of Miranda crossing paths with the Connections and giving them some of her mold to work with? And Eveline was only a failed experiment to Miranda in her attempt to be able to transfer her daughter’s essence/subconscious/whatever into a living child? And there are pictures of ‘10 year old” Eveline in Miranda’s possession - how come Evie didn’t have any memory of her at all (speaking of Evie, why the fuck did she appear in 8 briefly as a hallucination [?] to explain to Ethan his condition???)

How are you going to try and tell me that some village from prior to the 19th century was using the “Umbrella” symbol and Spencer just snatched it for himself? that was just stupid, honestly - even more stupid how Ethan didn’t recognize the symbol, despite flying off in a Blue UMBRELLA helicopter at the end of RE7

Mocap and cutscenes

Was it just me or did parts of this game look severely unpolished compared to RE7??? some parts looked good - like the Dimitresus all seemed to be rendered very well. It became very noticeable to me in the back half of the game, mainly with Chris and Mia, but a little with Heisenberg too, where their mouths didn’t match up with the dialogue a lot and they looked a lot less put together than previous scenes and characters. Mia in particular, i was struck by how much better her mocap seemed in RE7 compared to RE8. Maybe because there was a bigger ensemble cast in 8 that they spread themselves a little too thin in that regard?

the stars always make me laugh (3/4)

Now complete! Here is chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 4, and the epilogue.

A year to the day after Ziva departs D.C. to return to Paris and reunite with her family, her newfound contentment is shaken by an unexpected loss. Tony and Tali are right where they belong—safely by her side—but she still finds herself feeling drawn to reflect on the past. She might just be able to use this new grief to bring peace to old wounds, renewing hope along the way for a future with her family... but only if she can find a way to let go of what haunts her.

Written as a combined response to two different challenge prompts; also available for reading on ff.net (chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3) and AO3 (chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3). After this, there will be one more chapter and a short epilogue.

_________________________

January 12th, 2021, shortly after Ducky's funeral

For fifteen minutes now, Ziva has been standing alone beside Ducky's coffin, staring at the glint of afternoon sunlight on the metal metal rods that suspend it above the pit it will soon rest in. The same sunlight warms her face, and there's a distant part of her that's grateful for the unseasonable warmth of the day.

The graveside portion of the funeral service ended forty-five minutes ago, and the David-DiNozzos are the only ones left; somewhere just out of sight, a cemetery caretaker waits respectfully for their departure.

Ziva knows she can't wait here forever, but for now, she feels compelled to linger.

Eight years ago, she buried her father in Israel. That had been difficult and painful, without a doubt, and this afternoon is reminiscent of that ill-fated trip… There is a significant difference, though: unlike with Eli, Ziva has never had conflicting feelings about the elderly doctor.

She hesitated at Eli's funeral, too, but this time, she's not trying to come to terms with loving a father even though he wasn't good to her. This time, just taking a few minutes to say goodbye. It's bittersweet, part sadness and part nostalgic fondness.

Some hundred yards away, Tony and Tali chase one another through the grass, and Ziva finds herself watching them as her lips move quietly; there is a comfortable familiarity to the rarely thought-about prayers that she's whispering to herself. The sight of Tali's bright smile, so vibrant and full of energy, is soothing, too. Life goes on.

Maybe Tony can feel Ziva's gaze as she watches, because after a little while, he looks up to meet her eye. He smiles at her, and she smiles back. Then he leans down and says something to Tali, too far away for Ziva to hear what it is; Tali shrugs and nods. Leaving Tali to keep playing by herself, Tony turns and jogs back to where Ziva is still standing.

"Hi," he says warmly when he reaches her.

"Hello," she answers, more subdued but no less affectionate.

"You doing alright over here?"

"Yes… thank you for distracting Tali and giving me time to myself."

Tony shrugs. "Seemed like you needed a moment. Do you still want to be alone?"

Ziva shakes her head. "No. I have done what I needed to do." Tony nods, but he doesn't press her for more information on whatever that was. Still, she feels compelled to elaborate. "I was praying," she explains softly.

Tony rests a comforting hand on her upper back and smiles again, understanding. "I'm sure Ducky would have appreciated that."

"Something tells me that he would… in fact, if he was here, he likely would have recited the words with me. I think there was nothing he did not have significant knowledge of."

They share a quiet laugh, and Ziva gravitates closer; she has found over the years that nearness to Tony is an almost-guaranteed serotonin booster.

"He did love learning," Tony agrees, automatically settling his arm around her shoulders. "That reminds me of something that has always made me laugh… not long after I started as a probie, we were investigating a robbery at the Navy Federal Credit Union. The manager who was our main witness was an immigrant from somewhere in Africa, if I remember right—Ethiopia, maybe? Anyway, as soon as Ducky walked in and saw the man, he just… lit up. He could tell where the manager was from, just by looking at him—beats me how he could figure it out—and he went right up to the guy and started talking to him. Not in English, mind—in whatever language they speak in Ethiopia."

"Amharic," Ziva supplies helpfully, amused.

Tony chuckles. "Honestly, it's no wonder you two got along so well. You were both polyglots."

"That is a nice vocabulary word, Tony," Ziva says, hiding her mirth between a slightly wry tone.

Tony laughs harder, shaking his head. "Hey, there's no need to be condescending. I may not speak as many languages as you do, but I know some things."

Ziva laughs, too. "I was only teasing," she assures him, feeling her spirits lifting further.

"I know, I know." Tony squeezes her shoulders. "Anyway, I wonder where Ducky learned conversational Amharic." The last word is said with a wink.

"During his travels, I am sure."

"Undoubtedly. He never was one to sit still."

"No… he was not." Ziva sobers again slightly, that thought sparking a memory. "Perhaps a year after I resigned from NCIS," she adds hesitantly, "he sent me an email—did I ever tell you that?"

"What? No, you didn't! What did he say?"

"He told me that he was hoping to visit Israel—he had done so before, but not for several decades. He was asking for advice on important places to visit. I got the impression, however, that it was really just an excuse to check on me."

"He's not the only one that had the urge to do that."

Ziva doesn't know how to reply without apologizing again for things they've already moved on from, so she just reaches up to rest her hand on top of Tony's where it's still settled on her shoulder.

He doesn't seem to mind.

"Did you answer him?" Tony asks curiously, realizing that Ziva isn't going to comment on what he just said.

Ziva shakes her head. "I could not see how replying would do anything other than bring up old pain for everyone. I kept the email, though. I really cannot say why I did."

Tony seems to get it, though. "Sometimes it's nice to know that someone's out there caring about you, no matter where you are. Maybe it makes the world feel a little less lonely," he adds contemplatively.

Ziva knows that he's speaking from experience, and she looks over to where Tali is running around in circles with her arms out, possibly pretending she's an airplane. "What is it that Gibbs said so long ago? 'When you have kids, you're never lonely.'"

"That might be one of the truest things he's ever said."

"I think so, too. Having Tali… well, that saved me during a very difficult time."

"She's pretty good for that. She did it for me, too."

Ziva thinks for the thousandth time about the difficulty Tony faced in the wake of her feigned death nearly five years ago. In a very short time, he found out that she was dead, found out that he had a daughter he'd never met, and resigned from the career that was not only a job to him but also where he found his family. He hadn't just lost Ziva herself; he had, in effect, lost Gibbs, McGee, Abby… everyone who made the navy yard his home-away-from-home.

Including Ducky.

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"We have talked a lot about my grief this week, but we have not talked much about yours. I am sorry for your loss, my love. You knew Ducky for far longer than I did, and I know he was very important to you."

Tony seems exceptionally unconcerned by this, and his arm around her shoulders rises and falls as he shrugs. "I did, and he was, but grief isn't a competition. I promise that I'm dealing with it—I'm just a little more worried about you right now. Loss is hard enough when it isn't just another thing to add to a lifetime already full of goodbyes." He drops a kiss to her forehead. "May his memory be a blessing for you, Ziva," he finishes in a murmur.

Ziva looks up at him, surprised and touched. "Thank you… I am impressed that you are familiar with that phrasing, since it is a Jewish tradition rather than a secular one. I would have expected you to say something closer to 'may he rest in peace.'"

Tony grins. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, sweet cheeks," he teases. Then, more serious again, he elaborates. "I learned a lot while you were gone. I figured that Tali deserved to grow up knowing about your background, not just mine, even if you weren't around to teach it to her."

"That was incredibly thoughtful of you, Tony."

"Yeah, well… I guess I should admit that I didn't learn everything just for her. I had other motives, too."

"Oh?"

He tightens his hold on her shoulders. "As soon as we knew that you were alive, I started planning for the day that we'd get to celebrate your culture with you, too."

"You are a man of many surprises," Ziva manages to say through a throat that has suddenly tightened again; she's genuinely moved by his continuous quiet dedication.

"I do my best." Tony rests his chin on top of her head. "Ha'makom yenahem etkhem betokh she'ar avelei Tziyonvi'Yerushalayim." His Hebrew is careful and he fumbles a few times, but the words are correct, surprising Ziva again.

What he said is the very traditional mourner's farewell: "May God console you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."

Ziva is not particularly devout and never has been—in fact, she would consider herself culturally Jewish more than religiously Jewish—but something about hearing those familiar words strikes her in the same way that "At lo levad" did years ago. Maybe it's less because of the spiritual aspect of the blessing and more due to the painstaking effort her husband must have gone through to learn the words—which have no other use to him than in comforting her—but either way, it warms her more than the winter sun can.

Her reaction is abrupt, surprising and alarming Tony: she starts to cry again. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks quickly, concerned. "Did I say it wrong? If I accidentally insulted you, I'm sorry."

Ziva laughs through her tears. "No, no, it is not that, it is just—"

She's interrupted by the slightly violent arrival of Tali.

The six-and-a-half year old had changed directions in her running to suddenly speed toward her parents; she apparently misjudged the time it would take her to come to a stop, however, so she crashes into them, knocking them both back a step. They break out of their embrace to steady themselves.

"Oops!" Tali says, turning red and grabbing onto Tony's suit jacket to keep from falling over. "Sorry, Ima. Sorry, Daddy."

Tony snorts. "Don't worry about it, baby girl."

Tali barely hears him, though, noticing that her mother's cheeks are flushed and wet with tears. "Why are you crying, Ima?"

Ziva smiles at their slightly-too-energetic daughter. "All is well, Tali, do not worry. I am a little sad, but I am still a little happy, too."

Tali tilts her head to one side. "How are you sad and happy?"

"I am happy to have you and your Abba, but I also miss my friend Ducky. It is okay to be sad when you miss someone, yes?"

Tali nods. "Daddy has told me that a lot of times. So many times."

Ziva and Tony just chuckle at that. "Do not tell him this, ahava shelli," Ziva replies in a teasing pseudo-whisper, "because I do not want his head to grow so large that he cannot pull his shirts on anymore, but… sometimes, he says some smart things."

Tali grins, catching on. "Just not very often, right?" she says in the same low voice.

"Does anyone else hear whispering? Because I feel like I hear whispering," Tony interjects loudly, playing along.

Tali giggles. "He's funny, isn't he?" she asks Ziva conspiratorially.

"Yes… sometimes."

"Was Saba Ducky funny, too?"

"He very often was. Do you remember him?"

"A little." Tali hesitates slightly, looking from her mother to her father and back again. Then, making a decision, she reaches for Ziva's hand. When Ziva gives it to her, she tugs until Ziva gets the hint and kneels in front of her daughter.

"What is it, chamuda?"

"Do you remember when you were gone?"

"Of course I do, Tali."

"I missed you then. D'you know what Abba said, though?"

"No. Do you want to tell me?"

"Yeah. He said you were like a Gordon angel." Over Tali's head, Ziva can see Tony smiling fondly and mouthing 'she means guardian angel.' "He said you were watching over us and protecting us, even if you couldn't come home."

Ziva nods, squeezing her daughter's small hand. "Abba was right. I was."

"Well, I think maybe Saba Ducky is like a Gordon angel now, too. So don't cry, Ima. He's still watching, he just can't come home."

The simple optimistic innocence of that statement brings Ziva to gentle tears again, and Tali frowns. "I said don't cry, Ima, not start to cry!" She reaches up with clumsy fingers to wipe at Ziva's cheeks.

Ziva draws Tali into a hug, thinking that the girl might just be right. She has suffered too many losses in her life, and this first loss after reuniting with her family could have threatened to push her back into a darker place… but as much as she misses Ducky, and as much as she wishes she could have a chance to talk to him one more time, she's less alone now than she's ever been.

That's a comfort, indeed.

Belief - Part 1 (Edit)

Rating: M

Devi is Dauntless. Through blood sweat and tears she made a place for herself three years ago when she left her life in Amity behind. Not once in that three years has Eric Coulter even deigned to look her way. Not until that night. Now she has nothing but his attention. Eric/OC AU [Smut, Language, Romance]

 Title and story inspired by   Belief   by Gavin DeGraw

Character Inspiration:

Devi Nunez- Diane Guerrero

Eric Coulter- Jai Courtney

Elijah - Alexander Skarsgård

                                                      ~~Belief~~

Tonight you arrested my mind

When you came to my defense

With a knife

In the shape of your mouth

In the form of your body

With the wrath of a god

Oh, you stood by me

Belief

Builds from scratch

Doesn't have to relax

It doesn't need space

Long live the queen

And I'll be the king

In the collar of grace

Tonight, you arrested my mind

When you came to my defense

With a knife

In the shape of your mouth

In the form of your body

With the wrath of a god

Oh, you stood by me

Belief

[Belief, Gavin DeGraw]

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

 Part 1

 A dare is a fucking dare, and Dauntless don’t give up. I’m dauntless now and have been for the last three years.

I’m doing okay here. I’ve made a place for myself and some friends. Although it was hard leaving everyone I knew behind in Amity, I did it. Even when I knew that my grandparents and brother would wash their hands of me when I left. It wasn’t anything personal but they’re just staunch advocates for peace.

Okay, so maybe for them it was a little personal. They felt like I rejected them, who they are, and everything they stand for. It hurt them badly.

I’ve always held a secret hope they would come to see that I left because my staying would be like a slap in the face to them every day. Small wounds that would build up over time until finally I would knick a vein and cause whatever love we had to just bleed out for good.

See, I can’t even make an analogy about how much I would end up hurting my family without it turning into something out of a war story or horror film.

The thing is I don't really have a big story or wrong from my life in Amity. Not really. It was kind of perfect and I followed along every day with a smile on my face. Granted, my family drowned ourselves in peace serum laced foods and drinks so that helped keep the smile in place. I arrived in Dauntless with the carb-laden proof on my hips and thighs and that took some serious work to fix my first few months here.

I still can’t quite kick the carb habit, so there’s more cushion than there should be probably.

Back in Amity I sang happily, played instruments, braided hair, and took part in the free love once I hit puberty and was flooded with all those lovely hormones.

But my favorite part of life back there was working with the animals. Horses mainly. When we had the rare chance to tame one, gentle we call it though others might have called it breaking them in, I was one of the first they called. I've always had a way about me. I can be gentle when called for but my stubbornness and determination always saw me winning in the end.

Looking back I know that should have been my first clue.

That life I led before, it all changed the day I took the aptitude test. I went in expecting nothing but a life in Amity. It was all planned out for me. That test changed everything in the blink of an eye.

Dauntless.

That was what the Abnegation woman told me, looking at me with understanding soulful eyes as she did so. There was no hiding my shock or stopping the sobs that wracked my body. The woman held me in her arms and told me that it would be okay. I didn’t know how it could be okay when I was feeling, at that moment, that my life was a lie. That  I  was a lie.

Just before I walked out of the door she reached out for my arm and held me back. Her eyes were full of determination and something else that reached deep into me. “You can choose Amity tomorrow, but if you do, you will never truly know who you are or who you could be.”

I went home with her words still ringing in my ears and a tangle of confusing feelings within my heart. I hadn’t been able to hide the pain on my face so my family saw it clearly. They knew as soon as they saw me what that meant. They didn’t ask what faction I got but they knew it wasn’t Amity and they made their position very clear. As gently as mi Abuela could, she let me know that if I left they would not see me again.

They would uphold faction before blood.

I was scared like I had never been before in my life, but I also felt strangely alive.

It was exactly like I felt in the paddock facing an animal that was easily eight inches taller than me and had at least a couple of hundred pounds on me if not more.  I’m a five-foot-four-inch Latina girl that has a few extra pounds in some areas, but I still look like the wind could blow me over. Imagine me standing face to face with beasts towering over me. It must have looked ridiculous.

Out of the paddock, I’m very self-aware, even a little self-conscious. But inside it that all melts away and there is no fear for me. 

When dealing with all the animals I understood that some of the things we had to do could and were considered cruel by others but they never bothered me. Even when some of those things involved the slaughtering of the livestock that is specifically raised for the purposes of feeding the factions. I always had the mindset that it had to be done but at least we could do it in the least stressful way as possible.

As I lay in bed that night after the test I went over things like that in my mind and it had been like unlocking some part of me that had always been held back until the revelation of the aptitude test. I knew then that the Abnegation woman from my test was right. I was given the truth and my path, and I knew I couldn't turn away from it.

I never backed down then and that’s something that hasn’t changed even now.

I have found myself here. It took a lot of work and some very unexpected struggles but I also like who I have become.

Generally, I love my life and who I am.  

Even during times like right now when I know that come the morning sober me is going to be hating the fuck out of drunk me. 

I glare over at my friend as she smirks back at me from across the bar table. I toss back the shot and beer chaser one after the other, then slam the glasses back onto the table.

“Fine! I will!” I snap at her, then shove my way through the bar and head to the door.

My three friends follow close behind me, alternating between disbelieving murmurs or begging me not to do it. I hear one pleading with me to back down for once and that only makes me even more determined to follow through with it.

But seriously, did she really think that was going to happen?

It's a serious character flaw, I know, my refusal to give in or up. Even when it results in situations like back in my initiation and the fights started. I refused to go down easy and more than half of them resulted in me being beaten up pretty badly. I still didn’t give up. And when my next fight came up, no matter how hurt I was, I stepped up and gave it my all.

That alone got me enough points to eke out the ranking I need to get my Physio Therapy and Medic Nurse positions and titles. Three years later and I've worked my way to the position of Head Nurse.  

Walking through the compound, drunk and on the highest heels I could manage to get, is proving a challenge. I wobble and curse as the stone floors throw up obstacles that make me look like I’m a sailor on the deck of a ship during a storm, swaying back and forth. It doesn’t help that even with the heels I am still a couple of inches shorter than most of the people around and have difficulties getting noticed that I’m trying to get through.

I finally manage to shove my way to my objective.

The Pit has different levels with various hangout spots throughout. Some are open-air, meaning they are shoved into some nook that’s carved out of the stone but otherwise have no real enclosures. Others are full-on bars with swinging doors and everything.

Where I need to be is an open-air hangout that is really popular with the high ranking people in Dauntless. It’s a prime location because it’s high enough up that the people there can see almost all places in the Pit. Leaders are known for hanging out there after hours to be able to keep an eye on things and while winding down.

I always thought that it made them seem like they were half part of the faction and half sitting on thrones, lording over everyone.

As I spot him that analogy seems to hit home. He sits at the table like a king on his throne and the people surrounding him sure seem intent on treating him like he’s one.

I can’t help but observe this with a sneer crossing my face as it sure doesn’t seem he’s much of a reluctant ‘king’ as he’s always claiming. He seems to be eating it up as they all gather to kiss his feet and lick his ass. That’s exactly the thought that got me into the position I am now. Drunkenly weaving my way towards his table.

Just a bit ago I loudly made that comment to my friends in the middle of an angry rant and my friend AJ immediately jumped on it, daring me to say those exact words to his face.

And dammit, I’m just mad and drunk enough that I’m going to do exactly that. He needs to know how fucked up what he did is and I am going to tell the legendary Four just what I think of him!

I make my way to his table but there’s a virtual wall of people around him. Some are standing but most are sitting in or on any available surface. Not one of them pays any attention to me as I give polite squeaked pleads to be let through.

One guy looks me dead in the eye, raises an eyebrow, and snorts at me dismissively.

If I wasn’t already pissed that sure did the damn trick. It just fuels it even more, driving any sense of propriety or rational thought from my mind.

Usually, I’m a pretty even-tempered girl unless it comes to something I'm extremely passionate about. But when I came to Dauntless I discovered that once my temper is lit it makes me into a volcano. A tiny one, no doubt, but don’t let my size fool you. I can do some damage now when I need to.

Lucky for the douchebag that fanned the flames my fuse was already lit by someone else and come hell or high water he's going to know it. I furiously look around and my eyes narrow at the nearest table as an idea pops into my head.

With a determined smile, I stomp my way over to the table and start to climb up it. I completely disregard the fact that this table is currently occupied. There was an empty space for me to use for the climb and that was invitation enough for me.

Glasses and bottles scatter and fall, breaking as they go tumbling while I scramble up onto the table and then wobble as I move from my kneeled position to try and stand. The table is solid stone and has no give but my slim stilettos don’t seem to like this new development.

I look down at the shoes I fell in love with and just had to have, prepared to give them a glare and order them to behave. Instead, I get distracted by the realization that they really do make my legs look killer. Vera gushingly informed me when I first showed up in them earlier tonight and I have to agree.

The shouting from around me, as the occupants of the table protest the loss of their drinks, brings me around and I shake my head and the drunken smirk from my face.

“Focus, Devi!” I loudly scold myself and square my shoulders as I stand up, lifting my chin as my eyes zero in on my target.

This is when I notice that many eyes are on me and there are even some people catcalling or whistling while chanting ‘dance, dance '. I would tell those idiots off normally but I see this has gotten the person's attention I wanted all along.

“Hey, Four!” I bellow out loudly, trying to really project my voice. I figure just telling Four what I think isn’t enough anymore. The whole damn faction should know.

The table under me shakes with the force of whoever just slammed their fist down as they yelled. “Fucking figures,” with something that sounds like a groan and growl all in one. But I’m too focused to see who that is or what he means.

Four is looking right at me, startled enough that he isn’t paying attention to the blurry yet vaguely familiar girl beside him who’s trying to get his attention and furiously whispering in his ear.

“I have something to say to you,” I yell with a hand on my hip and my eyes narrowed in anger.

“Devi?” He calls out and that stupid concerned looks he gets crosses his face. “Are you drunk right now?”

“No! And fuck you with your…” I gesture wildly at him, meaning to indicate his face and failing. So I try again using my face while searching for the words to describe what I mean but they're all coming up Spanish in my mind. When the English words finally come to me, I gasp out and continue on triumphantly. “Your stupid puckered forehead and puppy dog eyes, trying to look all concerned and nice. I’ve got news for you. Eres un cabròn. You aren’t as nice as you play at being or what everyone thinks and I’m sick of it!”

“Well, this just got interesting,” Drifts up to me from somewhere below me while around me I can hear mixed reactions from the audience.

There are a good many girls that are scowling at me, shouting out insults. Other people are simply chuckling or making various other sounds of amusement and cheers.

Four briefly looks at the blurry and out of focus girl (those drinks are starting to really hit me hard) who’s still trying to get his attention and seems to make some kind of reassuring gesture to her while he stands and locks eyes with me. His eyes are narrowed in that same concerned look while he slowly starts to raise his hands while approaching me.

I guess it's supposed to look like he’s trying to reassure me but honestly, to me, it just looks like he’s surrendering.

“If this is about earlier today…”

Four speaking and the raised hands just irritate me and I scowl while hissing to myself. “Dauntless don’t give up.”

Then I stomp my foot on the table in determination, ready to repeat that out loud, making something shatter beneath the point of my heel. Someone jumps back from the table cursing but again I press on.

“Remember that? A Dauntless doesn’t give up. We both learned the same thing but maybe I remember it better than you do. Maybe it was too easy for you, Mr. Dauntless Prodigy,” I snort the unofficial nickname for him. “Maybe if you had learned the hard way as I had to it would have stuck a little bit better for you.” I pop my hip out to the side and put my hand on it while staring him down.

“Do you even  try  …” I wave my hand out, almost losing my balance in the process but just barely manage to stay standing “...to actually help them? The initiates you insist on continuing to train yourself? Did you actually try and help that girl? Did you try and tell her that the pain would pass and she would get stronger for it if she could just hang on? No! What did you say to her while she was laying in that bed ready to give up and walk away?” I’m furious now, my blood boiling at the memory. “All you said to her was that these were the new rules and there was nothing that could be done. All you did was imply...  hey...I know you just got the shit kicked out of you but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t make the rules. I just have to go by them.  Not one word from you that she could become more, that she could become Dauntless. It’s bullshit!” I yell once again, but this time even more fiercely.

The force my yelling and using my body to gesture in my anger unbalances my already precarious position and I lurch forward, arms flailing wildly as I pitch forward. I close my eyes, certain my end is coming and wonder what they’re going to say at my memorial at the chasm.

'Devi, she went how all Dauntless should. Drunk, pissed and stupid.’

“Alright. That’s enough for you tonight.” A voice drawls surprisingly close to me. I realize that the hard feeling against my body is actually that of someone else's against mine, not the ground as I expected. Someone that has me held tightly in his arms and even tighter against his body.

I decide it’s safe to open my eyes again to see who my savior from a very humiliating death is, and get an eye full of black clothes until they travel up to see a jawline made of stone and even harder blue eyes glaring down at me.

“Leave her alone, Eric. She’s drunk and doesn’t know what she’s doing. I’ll get her home.” Four says, getting my attention and I look to see he’s standing in front of me after having barely had to push his way through the crowd.

They all just fucking parted for him like Moses and the Red Sea.

“Como si fuera a ir a cualquier parte contigo. Metelo en el culo Mejor aún, ¡espero que un pollo te pique la polla!” I spit out furiously while glaring at Four.

“Sounds like she doesn’t want anything to do with you at the moment,” Eric says with a chuckle after I threw out a few more choice words in Spanish. More insults that were all livestock oriented and made not a damn bit of sense outside of Amity.

“I don’t!” I nod firmly with a look of smug defiance.

“Devi, you’re drunk and upset about the girl leaving. But you  don’t  need to be going off alone with  him .”

The already taut muscles of Eric’s arms go even tighter as he tenses. It almost feels like there’s a slight tremor in his muscles and apprehension radiates up and down my spine, tingling along the way. I might not know a lot about Eric, despite being in the same faction for over three years and having shared the same initiation. But there is one thing I know for sure and that is Eric’s temper makes mine look like a missile strike against his nuclear explosion.

Still, this isn’t Eric’s fight and I refuse to let him take it on and fight it for me. I started this and I intend to finish it.

“Fuck you, Four!” I snarl out, my face contorting in my anger.

He was already stepping forward, arms out to take me from Eric. I swipe at his arms violently but then immediately switch to gripping Eric’s tightly, nails digging in, when I felt him moving me. There was a moment I thought he was going to hand me over and I certainly didn’t want that to happen, but it turned out he was moving me away from Four.

“You don’t get to tell me what I should do and that girl has a fucking name by the way. It’s Rain, and now she’ll never have the family she left everyone behind for because you didn’t even try to talk her out of walking away. Why didn’t you try!" I yell, my voice breaking a little. "You could’ve told her that it gets better and the pain doesn’t last. You always want to look down your nose at Eric but at least he's always been honest with her and all the rest of them. Yes, he was pushing them hard but at least when he was people like her had a chance. Then you went and complained to get your way. Everyone is always so ready to kiss your ass and lick your feet….” I pause and shake my head because that isn’t right, “I mean kiss your feet and lick your ass…” That sounds right but confusion makes it feel like it isn’t. “You know what I mean!” I huff finally. “Sometimes you have to break someone to make them stronger and she needed to know that. She needed her trainer to tell her she could do it.”

I can tell I’ve royally pissed Four off but I don’t care. It’s all true. And it also hurt me too much to watch that girl throw her life away by giving up. That made me need to hurt someone in return.

“Enough, Devi. You’ve had your say. Now go sleep it off but we will be talking about this privately.” Four says lowly before turning and walking away, vanishing into the crowd that rushes in and blurs around him.

Things had already started to go on the blurring, spinning side, but it feels like hits me even harder all of the sudden. I guess the rush of adrenaline that was pushing me through my drunken state has finally started to fade enough that all that liquor I downed in a short amount of time has decided it’s time to really have fun with me. You would think it's already had its fill by me showing my ass in the Pit but obviously, there is more in store for me. It’s leaving me spinning and groaning as I let my head briefly rest against the solid surface of Eric’s chest.

“I don’t feel so good,” I mutter into his chest after some minutes pass and the spinning hasn’t gotten any better.

I don’t dare to open my eyes. At first, it feels like the air is rushing past my body. Making me think I really am spinning. When I look up all I can see at first is Eric staring straight ahead with his jaw tense but his mouth moving slightly. Like he’s muttering under his breath. I look away from him to see that sensation of air rushing along my body is because we're in motion. Eric still has me locked against his body and is walking at a steady pace but doesn't seem to be rushing. We are nowhere near the pit, telling me he’s already been walking for a bit and I didn’t even realize it.

I try to determine where we are but everything looks like blurred streaks making my head hurt and stomach flip. I groan and slam my eyes shut again.

“I swear if you throw up on me I’ll assign you maid duties in my apartment for a fucking month.”

“I won’t. I just spin.” I reply with a pained sigh before I dare to open my eyes again. Trying to look around me. The doors and hallways are still all speeding by and nothing looks familiar. “Are you taking me home with you, Eric?”

The words come out and I pause, tilting my head because it sounds off to me. Almost as if there was excitement in my tone.

Eric chuckles but it’s so deep and husky that the only reason I realize it is a chuckle is that his body and chest vibrates with it.

He comes to a stop and looks down at me when I tilted my head back to look up at him. His eyes look darker in the light of the residential hallways and the shadows from them make his cheeks morph so that his natural predatory expression just seems even more feral. His eyes flick away from me and he takes a breath then shifts so he has all my weight on one arm while also using his leg to balance me. He leans towards me until I can almost feel the heat of his breath on me.

“Not tonight, little one,” He pauses and lifts his free arm to pound on a door then wraps that arm securely around me again.

Silence fills the heartbeats as I look between him and the door, wondering what the hell’s going on. When there is rustling coming from the other side, Eric gets my attention again. This time it isn’t just the heat of his breath, but the brush of his lips against my ear as he speaks.

“You might not have ever meant to get my attention, Devi,” Locks are being thrown on the other side of the door when I swear I feel the nip of his teeth on the tip of my ear, “But you certainly have it, little one. You better be ready for me now.”

Is that a threat? A promise? Why does it feel like both?

The door opens suddenly and I see Tori standing there, completely disheveled and looking extremely put out to be disturbed. She's not even a bit less intimidating by her state of dress at all.

That’s the thing I most admire about the older woman. I’m sure that most people would be uneasy having to approach her when she is looking like this. While if I tried to pull this same look off it would make me look like a petulant child. She’s certainly always been respected by those that know her but especially now that she became one of our leaders after all the bullshit that went on with Erudite with the assistance of the old Dauntless leader regime.

I grin drunkenly at her which causes her to sniff even as her expression softened slightly for me. Then her eyes shifted over and hardened again when she eyes Eric. Or rather me in Eric’s arms.

“Little late for a tattoo don’t you think, guys?” She deadpans while crossing her arms over her chest.

I start to chuckle, while Eric starts to move without even replying. He doesn’t even ask before he moves forward and through the door, with Tori scowling in his direction but not stopping him either.

His steps take him quickly to the couch where he leans down from the waist and deposits me onto the cushions while speaking over his shoulder to Tori. “Take care of that for me, will ya? I’ll be back to retrieve her in the morning.” He straightens and turns his back to me. Completely ignoring the fact that he’s disregarding me while doing so, and continues to speak to her. “I expect her to still be here.”

The fact that he hasn’t once looked at me again from the time Tori opened the door, along with the fact that he’s treating me like some package he has any control over, just pisses me off. So obviously I have to say and do something about this.

I pop up to get off that couch with every intention of telling him I sleep where I want. When I want. And with who I want….

Only the room starts spinning. I flop back against the couch like a fish out of the water while moaning loudly and putting a hand to my head.

“Wait! Why am I the one being stuck with the extremely drunk girl? One that looks like she’s minutes away from being sick all over my carpet? Need I tell you how hard that shit is to clean from white carpet?”

I crack my eyes open to try and get out something in protest but only let out another moan. I see Eric casually shrugging then turning back to me, reaching down like he’s going to scoop me back up but he does it very slowly and with a smirk on his lips. “Okay. I can take her back to my place like she was asking but I won’t be responsible for what happens there. I just thought I would give that thing that you're always on me about a try. You know, to be less of a selfish dick.”

“Well fuck,” Tori sighs and pushes him away from me just as his hands brush against me. “Fine. But you owe me.”

He grins at her, flashing teeth and looking younger somehow. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen Eric Coulter smile before. At least not like that. I watch all of that as he walks towards the door with some kind of rekindling of a long-dormant, repressed really, desire inside of me as I watch him go. 

Maybe it's my stomach rebelling and Tori really should be worried?

Before he gets to the door he looks at me, really looks at me, for the first time since we entered the apartment and winks.

Wait...Eric just….winked at me?

It takes entirely too long for me to process any of that and by that time Tori is walking towards me from somewhere. In her hands, she has a glass of water and a bottle of pills while a shirt is draped over her arm.

You wouldn’t think it with how she greeted the two of us and the exchange just after, but Tori is the closest thing to real family I have here in Dauntless. She has been since shortly after I arrived. Sure, I have friends now, but none of them are as close to me as she is and none of them were there for me like she’s been.

In my initiation, I was a pariah.

My former faction alone was already a source of ridicule but I had other things going against me from the start. Most everyone just pretended I didn’t exist since it was easier to refuse to get close to someone that was never going to make it. Others seemed to take offense at me being in Dauntless at all. This was usually conveyed by their taunts and making fun of me in any way they could.

Once I was even attacked. I didn’t go down without giving them as good as I got. But I usually faced them, and anything during that time, alone.

One day I wandered into the parlor and after that, I practically lived there every day when I wasn’t involved in something for initiation. I never really let on to what was going on with me or how bad it got and Tori never pressed. Just being there helped and I think she knew that. I wouldn’t say I was working at the parlor, because that wasn’t technically allowed, but I was helping out. From designing things, once Tori and Bud found out I could draw, to helping stock or clean. I learned the ropes and was even thinking about taking up the tattoo gun when initiation ended.

I figured I would probably get a good enough rank for that at least.

When I ranked sixth Tori was the one that urged me to try for something better. She knew that one of my passions and eventual goals in Amity had been to be one of their healers. I had hoped to try and bring in more than what the faction normally allowed for treatments but that had been more of a long-term goal for me then. When I left Amity, I just accepted that wasn’t going to be in the cards for me but Tori made me rethink it and go for the position that was open in the clinic.

She believed in and supported me when I needed her and that the most.

“Devi, Devi, Devi.” She sighs out my name while shaking her head.

By this time I’ve already changed into the shirt, taken the pills and drank most of the water before I had to lay down when the spinning threatened me again.

She runs a hand over my hair softly and worry mars her brow. “What have you done?”

I smile faintly as I remember the night and my triumph. “I told Four off!”

Tori’s hand pauses in mid-stroke of my hair and her eyes widen. Then a smile curls her lips and she laughs softly. “Of course you did.”

“Eric caught me when I fell and then Four tried to tell me I shouldn’t go with him but I told him off again.”

“Did you now? Twice in a row. No wonder.” I frown in confusion but she’s just smirking at me. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what he's in for.”

I shrug still not understanding but not up to figuring it out. “I  have  to close my eyes now or I can’t promise I won’t make a Pollock painting of your carpet.”

“Eww.” Tori groans and gratefully grants my request.

I hear her shuffling away and the light that was on in the room clicks off, making the dark behind my eyelids even darker. I let out a blissful moan and reach up to put the heels of my palms over my eyes and gently put pressure on them. Hoping the spinning will stop soon.

It does eventually seem to slow down and I can feel that kind of unconsciousness that happens when I’ve overindulged. Some would call it a blackout but that’s not what happens for me this time. As the spinning slows images start to stream by, some I can’t make out at all and others I can make out but they make no sense whatsoever.

Like the feather duster and the extremely short, frilly black and white dress……..

For A Greater Good 4/18

Gif not mine just the text

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang's staff at Dumbledore's request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Bold lines are from the book Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix

--

“Come on, Charlie.” He stared at her for a moment and lowered his wand. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea...” Kate sighed and gripped her wand more firmly. 

“I need to see what your tactic is so we can improve it.” He pointed his wand at her again and she gave him a quick nod before counting from three to one.

“Flipendo!” Charlie shouted. With a sudden movement, Kate raised her wand, and his spell bounced in the air. Violet sparks shot from her wand, but Charlie dodged them. “Stupefy!”

 She cast a shield again, and the spell went back towards Charlie. He managed a clumsy “Protego!” And Kate used his distraction to disarm him.

He was left staring at his wand that had got stuck in the mud. Kate grimaced sympathetically and waited for him to pick it up.

“Think about your opponent and try to predict their movements. It’s easy with me, you know me. Think about earlier, the sequence of spells.” Charlie took a deep breath and stood in a combat position, “And square your shoulders, you are not taking care of a baby dragon, here. You are battling with the enemy.” 

Charlie’s wand twitched slightly. He’s attacking again, she predicted. He attempted a non-verbal spell, but Kate managed to dodge it. Suddenly, Charlie started shouting a sequence of spells, forcing Kate to wave her wand frantically in the air and, to his disappointment, avoiding every single one of them. 

When he stopped, she shouted “Melofors!” And Charlie’s head got trapped into a giant pumpkin. 

Kate started laughing, and he raised his arms in a silent question. Between giggles, she mouthed “Finite” and his head went back to normal. 

“What was that for? How did you do that?” She approached him and took a few insides of the pumpkin off his shoulders. 

“I should have taken a picture. Never cast that jinx on you, you looked nice.” She reached up and messed with his hair. “Although with this orange locks I don’t think there’s much difference...” 

He threw her a fake offended look and nodded defiantly. 

“Oh, it’s on now, miss.” Kate’s eyes twinkled, and a brilliant smile lit her face.

“Yes! That’s the attitude. Come on, change of tactics. I don’t recommend you to cast a lot of spells at once, your wand will start doing funny things.” 

He nodded, and they resumed their original positions. 

“Try doing something unexpected.” They pointed at each other and attacked at the same time. The spells collided in a shower of sparks.

 Kate attacked again, but he avoided it. A few Flipendos were shouted here and there before Charlie did what he was asked: something unexpected. 

He pointed at the ground, and suddenly the grass around Kate started growing too quickly to react. She couldn’t see anything from the grass cage she was trapped in, so she put her arms before her and pushed at the green barrier, fumbling forwards and almost losing balance. 

“Expelliarmus!” She felt her wand slip from her hand and followed its trajectory with her eyes until it landed by Charlie’s feet.

 After recovering from her astonishment, the corners of her lips curled up.

“That was really good. Very creative.” He smiled proudly, picked up her wand and handed it to her. 

“I almost didn’t get it. Non-verbal spells are your thing.”

“I’m not sure if that’s helpful in a duel, but you’re getting the idea.”

“Charles! Katie! Dinner’s ready!” Mrs Weasley’s voice fell over them like a cube of iced water.

“Let’s go inside before Mum catches us duelling in the backyard.”

--

Real-life duels had nothing to do with the innocent performance of that day when Kate taught Charlie a few tricks. Especially not in Libor Marek’s advanced duelling class.

The man was stocky, so much that Kate thought that if someone bumped into him, they would fall to the ground on impact.

You could tell he’d been in a lot of battles. The skin on his face was tanned, but it had red and sunken areas. A slight beard covered many of the scars, but others, such as on his forehead or nose, gave him an even more frightening appearance.

Kate had been sitting in an armchair for an hour watching the different lessons that were part of the class.

Her coworkers were not kidding when they warned her of the violence in his classes. So far, a crack in the wall had occurred, a lamp had fallen, and several curtains had caught fire.

No one seemed to care about all this except from Kate who, from her seat, was cleaning up the messes that the teacher and his students were making in the process.

The class had begun normally; they practised on mannequins until Marek got tired and placed them in two rows facing each other. That’s when the actual problems started: slugs, flames, chains, petrified students or dancing around were some things Kate had to deal with.

She noticed his limp and how, thanks to it, his balance on his left leg was impeccable. He had boasted several times that he could beat anyone while standing on one foot only, and he had every right to do so, because his skills were admirable.

“Get in line. Let’s see what you’ve learned today,” he announced. It’s rare to see classes where lessons are individualised; it requires time and patience.

Nevertheless, Libor Marek spent a few minutes for each of his students and corrected at least one thing they were doing wrong.

Kate could not, or perhaps didn’t want to, pay attention to Marek’s mind, something Professor Snape would have reproached her for without hesitation. She had forgotten why she was there and at some point; she began to listen to the teacher’s directions and advice.

One of the students got into position.

“Don’t you dare cast a spell.”

The room became silent and Kate leaned forward in her chair.

“Does anyone know what will happen if he tries to knock down the mannequin?” Several murmurs echoed around the class, but no one dared to give an answer.

“He will fall,” Kate said, louder than expected.

All eyes fell on her, and she felt like a sniffler caught stealing coins. Libor arched an eyebrow.

“Elaborate.”

Kate stood up and pointed to the boy’s hand and traced the path of his wand.

“His arm is too high. The spell will bounce against the window in the opposite direction.”

The teacher squinted almost imperceptibly before stepping aside and waving for Kate to take his place beside the boy.

“A healer with space vision? That’s odd, to say the least. Please.”

She shook her sleeve and her wand slipped until she could grab it. She took a few steps and got into a duelling position.

“Don’t... move.” He stood right in front of the tip of the wand and asked his students to step aside.

“Steady pulse,” he turned his gaze to her feet and hummed “exact angle of the feet.”

He circled Kate, looking up and down at her.

“Upright position, but not tense.” He stood back and gestured towards the mannequin. “A simple banishing charm will do.”

Just by moving her arm, a bright white light shot out and hit the target, propelling it towards the wall.

“And also skilled in non-verbal charms. You had an excellent instructor. Did you study at Durmstrang? I don’t remember you.”

“No, at Hogwarts.” For some reason, he was surprised.

“I didn’t know that Hogwarts appreciated martial magic.” He waved his hand, and all the mannequins piled up in one corner. He stood a few feet in front of her.

“Tell me about your wand.” Kate tilted her head.

“That’s cheating, if we’re going to duel.”

“Who said anything about that?” Kate questioned him with her eyes and he answered with a half-smile before pointing his wand at her.

“I already know is spruce wood, though it might be pine. Slightly elastic, from the way you’ve tightened it when you cast the spell, and you know it very well, is it phoenix feather?”

Kate put the wand down and couldn’t hide her amazement. Meanwhile, Marek continued to speak.

“I also know that you are, or could be, good with wand-less magic. Your fingers, on your left hand, glowed just for a second.”

“You know all that at just one glance?”

“So it is phoenix feather. Interesting combination. Come on, let’s see what you can do. Best of three?”

Kate raised her wand again and took a deep breath.

“Why?” She just asked.

“I never miss a chance to find a new tough competitor. And if they’re inexperienced, they make the best disciples.”

Without warning, Marek cast several offensive spells that Kate easily deflected. He inspected her again and followed the assault.

He was quick and very agile; the minutes passed and Kate began to have difficulty keeping up.

The professor took action and began to move. She adjusted her position and followed his steps, keeping her distance and avoiding some students who, with the lack of space, no longer knew where to hide. When Marek sped up his steps, they seemed to dance.

“So you say you studied at Hogwarts...” he questioned. With a whip-like movement, Marek deflected his wand towards the group of students. Kate reacted in time and bent her entire body so that the counter-spell reached the area where they were.

The two spells collided and deviated until they exploded against the door which, being half-open, closed making a great noise.

“Time out!” shouted Kate before raising both hands. Marek looked at her curiously. “You fight me, not them.”

“Anything can happen in a duel. I teach them to be ready at any time, especially when they’re not fighting. They’re purebloods and I want the best, if a spell comes their way for watching flitterbys, they’ve asked for it.”

It was Kate’s turn to strike. Squeezing her wand, she discharged a series of jinxes to him.

They didn’t even tickle him. He avoided each of them without breaking a sweat.

“I see the indignation on your face. Is it something I said?” he roared. His challenging eyes glowed with amusement. “Ah, I see,” he began as he avoided Kate’s spells.

“You’re one of those who has sympathy for the mudbloods.” Kate stopped the assault. She took a couple of deep breaths to get her strength back.

“That’s an awful term. And this school is missing out on having wonderful witches and wizards.”

“Durmstrang admits just the best.” Marek initiated offensive spells again and moved around the room, forcing Kate to walk toward the mannequins.

“Do you test them to get in? To see their level?”

“It’s unnecessary.”

“Then it’s not a good system.” Soft murmurs from the students indicated their bewilderment, and their fear, at the direction the conversation was going. “Hogwarts accepts everyone equally.”

Marek laughed and shook his head.

“Ah, but that’s not quite true, is it? Would they let a wizard from Germany in? No? Maybe one who lives in Spain? For your beloved school, everything outside its radius doesn’t exist.”

Kate had lost her focus. That was clear to anyone who was watching. She lowered her wand slightly, and Marek took advantage of the slip.

“Oppugno.” He said it so casually that it didn’t seem like he was casting a spell.

The mannequins rushed to Kate, forcing her to turn around and hold them back with a protective spell.

Without her being able to see it, the professor waved his wrist and her wand shot out.

Before the mannequins could attack, Marek stopped them within millimetres of her. She turned and Libor levitated her wand towards her.

“One-nil, by my reckoning.” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Kate conceded with a nod of her head and got into position again.

“I hope your friends won’t intervene again.” She commented by pointing her thumb behind her back.

“Professional advice: don’t expect anything from anyone.”

The rain of sparks began again, moving the students across the room so they wouldn’t get hurt.

Kate ducked just in time to dodge for two jinxes. One of them bounced against the window and hit one of the lamps, which fell in between them.

Marek caught it in the air and pulled it back up, fast enough to protect himself from Kate’s spells.

A red beam shot from Marek’s wand, and Kate’s eyes widened.

She shielded herself a little awkwardly from the fright and called another time out.

“I have not agreed to unforgivable curses.”

“Irrelevant. You know them well without even saying the word, and you have protected yourself. What is the problem?”

Kate didn’t answer. This time she started the offensive.

“Back to the subject: I’ve known brilliant Muggle-borns who’ve taught me many things, and purebloods who’ve taken years to learn a basic spell.”

Marek rolled his eyes and started walking around the room while dodging hexes.

“They are a hindrance. They take up the space of those who really deserve it.”

“Just like that? Would you get rid of all the Muggle-borns?”

Marek halted and raised his arms. His expression was aggressive, and Kate could see he was upset.

“Don’t change my words. I don’t want to kill Muggles. I just teach genuine witches and wizards.”

“And what are Muggle-borns but witches and wizards?”

“They are remnants. Remains of a true wizard ancestor. They’ll never live up to the potential of someone whose family is full of magic.”

Kate changed the direction of movement and turned the other way. He watched as Marek was absorbed in his thoughts, not even paying attention to Kate’s spells. He had grown accustomed to her tactics and was moving by inertia.

It was time to do something unexpected.

Concentrating all her power in the palm of her hands, she gestured as if she was grabbing a handful of air and pulled.

With the aid of her wand, the heavy curtains that were once tied with ropes were lifted to stand between them.

Marek cut them in half and freed himself before the cloth could trap him completely.

He arched his eyebrows in recognition, but Kate was staring into her palm, where a spiral of golden shimmering was disappearing beneath her skin.

She had never done anything like that before.

“Worst of all, the proportion of the wizarding population that is muggle-born is increasing as pure-blood families shrink in number. They have become a plague.”

Kate snapped her head up and gave him a half-smirk.

“You’ve just admitted that they’re part of the wizarding population.”

“What...?” As the professor registered what he had just said, Kate used his confusion to expel the wand out of his hand.

“Draw, by my reckoning.”

They got into position for the third time when the sound of bells indicating the end of class echoed throughout the castle.

Holding her gaze, Marek dismissed his students.

“I hope you have learned something from this meeting. You may leave.”

Slowly, the girls and boys present approached the door without taking their eyes off the two duellists. The door opened, but no one wanted to leave. They stood at the entrance of the room watching the show and wondering who would win.

“I believe, Mr Marek, that if you put aside your prejudices, your world would become a little less dark.”

“You are in Durmstrang, young lady. Everything here is darkness.” With one last wave of the wand, Kate took a blow to the chest and ended up on the floor.

She sat there, trying to pretend she wasn’t massaging her right buttock.

The professor limped over and extended a hand that Kate accepted.

“Good duel. You’ve been a tough competitor. There are things to polish, but you could easily enter a duelling championship.”

She stood up in pain and shook her head.

“I’m not interested.” She looked down at Marek’s knee and gathered the courage she needed before she spoke. “May I ask what happened? With your leg, I mean. Maybe I can help you.” He just huffed.

“There’s no cure for this, I’m afraid. Certain curses leave a mark forever.”

--

Kate stood at the owlery waiting for a letter from Charlie.

The little owl that she had turned into binoculars was already more comfortable with her and, after some treats, had already forgiven her for the incident.

She had a lot to think about in the days following the duel with Libor Marek. Despite everything the professor had said, there was something in his attitude that made her think he wasn’t a murderer.

An internal conflict arose as she considered the contempt with which he had spoken of the muggle-borns, a characteristic value of a Death Eater.

“But many people think like him, don’t they?” she caressed the owl’s beak with her knuckle and sighed.

His honesty presented a problem. A problem with a clear and effective solution. However, it was premature to reach any kind of conclusion.

"And furthermore, he said he would not kill Muggle-borns."

Her new friend tilted its head and watched her carefully.

"I guess you're right."

The promised owl arrived with a letter and a newspaper, which she kept inside her uniform and pressed against her chest on her way to her room. She had to keep her head down so that the smile she was unable to contain wouldn’t be noticed.

That smile faded as she read the Daily Prophet’s lines.

“An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s rubbish!” she exclaimed, throwing the article entitled MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN on her bed.

Furious, she grabbed paper and quill and began to write a letter to Tonks asking for explanations, before stopping short.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She rested her elbow on her desk and put her forehead on the palm of her hand. Dumbledore had said that the least amount of people should know about her whereabouts. Least of all someone from the Ministry.

With a sigh, she crumpled up the scroll and turned to look at the article again. The image of a witch twisted into a scream drowned out by the paper.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

She took her wand and suspended the newspaper in the air before creating four clean cuts around the article.

She opened the closet and rummaged through her things until she found a notebook she had hidden.

She turned the pages containing the documents about the four teachers she was to investigate: Mer Yankelevich, Libor Marek, Kent Jorgensen, and Leron Angelov, whom she had not met.

Kate kept turning pages with notes and those same names under a code, until she reached the first empty space, where she placed the cut-out article.

After noting the date, she wrote down on the next page her observations about Professor Marek.

She was aware of the danger of keeping a diary with all this information, but she had to tell someone everything that was going on, and neither Charlie nor Rowan could provide that help now.

--

[Part 5]

Happy New Year’s Eve!

🎉🎉🎉

I wrote a songfic for the Newtina Christmas Exchange, so here it is! My recipient is @bananachef. I hope you like this! Lyrics from the songs If I Could Tell Her and Only Us (written for the musical Dear Evan Hansen) are italicized. Enjoy!

Enough

~~~~~~~~~

He said

There's nothing like your smile

Sort of subtle and perfect and real

He said

You never knew how wonderful

That smile could make someone feel

~~~~~~~~~

Newt's POV

Not again. The attempt to reinstate my travel permit was denied for the fourth time, and I had begun to lose hope of ever seeing Tina Goldstein. Her picture in January's paper haunted me as the weeks passed by. I made Tina a promise, one I intended to keep no matter how long it took. I would personally deliver her a copy of my book. I just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Taking a deep breath, I sighed as I caught a glimpse of Tina's face. Her cheeks weren't pink like they were that day on the docks. No, this photograph was an injustice. As thankful as I was to have a reminder of her, there were so many things the picture simply couldn't capture. Like the way the edge of her lips twitched when she smirked. Or how her eyes deepened the happier she became. There was so much to uncover within Tina, and I wanted to explore her world just like I would with any other creature.

Yet I stood in my basement, staring at Tina's photo. If I could talk to her at the moment, what would I say? 'I'm sorry', even though I hadn't the faintest idea what I had done to scare Tina away. Perhaps she had other reasons for not writing back, but I had a feeling that whatever it was had to do with my book release. After all, the letters had stopped coming nearly a week afterwards. Had Tina decided she no longer wanted to be friends with a Magizoologist? Were her coworkers giving her flack for it? Whatever the reason, I longed for any sign of Tina's presence. Life hadn't been the same since I left New York, and I had a feeling that things were about to shift once more.

What would it take for me to get back on speaking terms with Tina? I had considered the possibility of us being more than friends, but that didn't seem probable at the moment. Unfortunately, I continued to go through days where I wished she were here with me in London. I'd invite her if she weren't in the habit of ignoring my letters. Who was I kidding? I could barely look her in the eye, let alone have a decent conversation with her. Why did I think I could be open about my feelings for Ms. Goldstein? I've heard it said that acting on internal desires can often lead to fulfillment or regret. I could only hope the latter wouldn't be true if I ever plucked up the courage to… well, you know…

~~~~~~~~~~

If I could tell her

Tell her everything I see

If I could tell her

How she's everything to me

But we're a million worlds apart

And I don't know how I would even start

If I could tell her

If I could tell her

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

Tina's POV

It had been four months since that night in Père Lachaise. Four months since Grindelwald escaped yet again, since Leta sacrificed herself to help us escape. But most importantly, four months since Queenie had joined the darkest wizard ever known to man. I was at a loss for words, and the weeks that passed by did little to ease the pain. What must have been going through Queenie’s mind for her to have made a decision like that? There were so many possibilities—every one of them more appalling than the last— and somehow I blamed myself.

I blamed myself because I should’ve made better decisions. Sure, I had tried to keep her from seeing Jacob, and I stood by my decision wholeheartedly at the time. After all, I was only trying to protect them, to protect Queenie from getting thrown in jail. As much as I loved my job, I knew how ruthless MACUSA officials could be. They had no sympathy in matters like this.

But I should’ve done more to stop her. I should’ve spent more time with her, should’ve screamed at Jacob not to let her go or...

There was no use now. Queenie was gone, and I doubted even she knew whether or not she was coming back. It was hard to tell. Fortunately Newt’s kept me busy.

Ever since that terrible night, we’ve been picking up the pieces and shoving them below the surface again and again. No one dares to speak of it for fear of reawakening the nightmares. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed someone to lean on. With Queenie no longer by my side, I felt alone and more misunderstood than ever before. When would my attempts to help another actually succeed?

Meanwhile, Newt grieved over the loss of his childhood friend. It wasn’t open in the manner that his brother was accustomed to, yet it was his way of coping. Even in my own bubble of misery, I could tell that he needed someone to lean on, too. So many of us were left scarred, and we wanted to be there for one another. But how could we do that when we could barely take care of ourselves? I suppose we could lean on one another for support, allowing the pain to pour from one broken body to the next. It wasn’t the best solution, but it was better than nothing.

~~~~~~~~~

I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you

I don't need you to search for the proof that I should

You don't have to convince me

You don't have to be scared you're not enough

'Cause what we've got going is good

I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken

I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget

Clear the slate and start over

Try to quiet the noises in your head

We can't compete with all that

~~~~~~~~~

In light of all that had happened recently, I wished Newt would be more open with me. With every passing day came new challenges and difficulties; we needed to lean on each other. These last few months had been unbearable, yet it seemed like we were finally numb to the pain. We had felt too much for too long, and now we had only the knowledge of the unthinkable events. Despite that, Newt and I were determined to move forward.

There hadn’t been much to say in the days following Leta’s death. A memorial service was put together by Newt's parents, and a small group of us mourned the loss. I tried my best to be there for Newt just as he tried to be there for his brother Theseus. We all had a lot on our minds that week. Since then, things have returned to normal. Well, as normal as they could be with an extremely dark wizard at large.

Nothing would ever be the same, that much I knew. Yet wasn't life always full of unexpected twists and turns? Leta's death impacted Newt greatly; I felt him becoming more and more withdrawn every day. My own thoughts and emotions were often directed towards Queenie, not to mention Credence and the impending search for Grindelwald. There was so much at stake, and I felt helpless.

Thankfully, the weeks passed by and I clung to Newt just as he clung to me. I'd had to return to New York after a while, but our correspondence continued through letters. Much like before, but with a more positive outcome. The two of us had finally put the past where it belonged and worked towards a new future together. A future where concerns would be voiced and feelings would be validated. After all, who knows what tomorrow will bring? Might as well live in the present and make the most of every moment because you never know if it'll be your last.

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

3rd POV

Picture it. Two lovers working on assignments at home in separate offices. Not because they couldn't stand to be in the other's presence, but because one of them had a harder time concentrating when the other was in the same room as them. Newt Scamander found the ever beautiful Porpentina to be very much of a distraction whenever he needed to work on something at home. He didn’t blame her for it, yet there was a sense of obligation to admire her beauty in every moment. After all, Grindelwald’s crimes against anyone who stood in his way were as dangerous as ever, and there wasn’t much spare time for Newt or Tina to enjoy the other’s presence. That’s why both of them (Newt especially) loved after-work hours. He could watch Tina brush stray hairs out of her face and bite her lip out of a mixture of frustration and determination. The previously unspoken couple had since admitted their feelings for one another, which led to their current living situation.

A little over two years had passed since the rally at Père Lachaise. Newt and Tina shared a place in London, and they were as happy as they could be with a war raging around them. Domestic life wasn’t a strong suit for either of them, yet they managed to make the most of it. Each spent their day working for the Ministry—Tina on Theseus’ task force and Newt on whatever special assignment he had been given to aid in Grindelwald's defeat. At night, they came together for dinner and brief conversations. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Newt smiled as he stood in the doorway of Tina’s home office. She scribbled notes and suggestions based off of the latest attack, her shoulders hunched and nose nearly brushing the edge of the parchment. Sometimes there was no telling when Tina would call it a night; her work often led her to stay up late following leads. Yet she always managed to spare a moment for Newt and his creatures, which reminded her that life existed outside of work. For now, however, work was what paid the bills and allowed the wizarding world to be one step closer to defeating Grindelwald and his regime.

Tina’s desk was modest, and stacks of papers neatly lined the sides of the desk. It was clearly well-organized, although just as worn-in as her desk at the Ministry. Both were much cleaner than the desk in a large closet that Newt liked to call his office. Back when both desks were in one room, the sight of Newt’s workstation would vex Tina terribly due to its constant disorganization. She offered to straighten it up for him one night, but the next morning revealed her efforts were in vain.

“Tina, where are my notes on a new habitat for the graphorns?”

“They’re in the second drawer, third folder.”

“And the sketches as well?”

“First drawer, fourth folder.”

Tina tried to pretend she couldn’t hear Newt sigh.

Life wasn't easy; it never would be. But at least they had each other, and somehow, that was enough.

SEASONS IN DESTINY 2'S THIRD YEAR

Hey everyone,

A couple of weeks ago, I did a (too?) many-word retrospective [Part I, Part II, Part III] on the last six months or so of Destiny 2. This covered what we think worked well, what didn’t work as well as we’d hoped, and some of our thinking on where Destiny 2 is heading. You’ll see some of this manifesting in what’s coming this fall:

A Rise of Iron–sized expansion, Shadowkeep, where we’ll explore how the Moon has evolved since we were there last. (See how vague I’m being? It’s because I don’t want to SPOIL. There are many, many sleeps to go.)

Overhauls to key game systems such as armor that give you more choices on how you play and look.

Evolution of game difficulty systems, starting with changes to Nightfall strikes. (You may have seen a preview last week at gamescom; more on that down the road.)

Features that make it easier to play with friends, such as New Light* (more below) and Cross Save. (I see all of you new-to-PC players. Thanks to the PC community for welcoming them!)

We’re simultaneously deepening the parts of Destiny 2 we know and love, but also removing the prohibitive stuff from before that made Destiny 2 hard to play with your friends.

This is a real high-wire act. We want Destiny to be a game where every blueberry could become someone who calls the Tower home.

My hands have had a week off from typing, so let’s talk about seasonal philosophy and how Seasons are shifting to fit with how we tell stories and move the world forward in the vision of Destiny 2 as a single, evolving world.

I mentioned in the Director’s Cut, Part III that we want Destiny to be a world that has narrative momentum, and a key part of that will be how Seasons support Year 3. Back in June, we mentioned that one of the ways we’re making it easier for friends to play together is to offer everything à la carte. We’re going to do just that with each Season. You and your friends can choose what you want to play, and the world will change every Season.

Year 3 will have four fully supported Seasons of content (last year’s Annual Pass had only three!), but this year, you can opt in to each Season for 10 bucks—you won’t have to pay up front for an entire year of content, like with the Forsaken Annual Pass. (FYI, the first season in this new vision, Season of the Undying, is included with Shadowkeep, but if you just want to experience Season of the Undying, you can grab that à la carte without needing Shadowkeep.)

THE WORLD OF DESTINY 2 CHANGES EVERY SEASON With each new Season in Destiny, we want players to feel like they—as a community—are contributing to Destiny’s evolving world. Each Season in Destiny has to ride the line between delivering self-contained, Season-long world arcs and making the handoff to the next season. Together, Seasons move the Destiny universe forward.

In Season of the Undying, the portal to the Black Garden that was opened as a part of JacketQuest has awoken the Vex, and they are now pouring out across the surface of the Moon. Working with Ikora, players will [Do Some Stuff, Go Somewhere, Fight Some Things, and Solve a Problem aka REDACTED]. By the end of the Season, the portals will close, the world state will change, and the Seasonal activity connected to it will go away.

Yet something remains. This will be just in time for [REDACTED] to kick off the start of Season Nine—Season of Dawn.

Everyone who plays Destiny will be able to see how the world is different and changing during the Season. Those with the Season Pass will be able to play a seasonal matchmade activity within the Black Garden for that extra level of sweet gear (this is similar to the old Annual Pass access), but the goal is that everyone will be involved in how the world changes.

And at the end of the Season, your collective actions will have caused the world state to change and the Seasonal Activity connected to those events will also go away.

Doing this allows us to evolve the world—narratively, but potentially physically as well. It is not possible to keep Destiny frozen in place to allow all activities to live forever while also changing the world in meaningful ways. This strategy lets our team be agile and innovative. We believe that Destiny will grow even better when the world state can change, and that the best Destiny stories are the ones where “you had to be there when….”

But while events and activities in the world will come and go as the world evolves, weapons critical to the meta will not be locked in each Season for new players or for players who missed that Season. Legendaries and Exotics you need to stay competitive will be re-earnable in the future, although not always immediately after the Season ends. We’ll be talking more about that later—this is one area where, with the new seasonal model, we expect our plans to evolve across the Seasons to meet the needs of the Destiny community.

And while we’re on the subject of gear and weapons, I want to talk about some other additions we’re making to your chase to create whatever-your-perfect-Guardian-is.

Reward Philosophy in D2Y3 As we dug into how to deepen the customization of your Guardians, we wanted a reward system that could: standardize some of the reward mechanisms each Season, provide clear value in its rewards, make the value of a paid Season super clear, and allow players predictable progression via XP.

We all love the chase—that perfect roll!—but we all play differently. Year 3 will add more transparency and predictability while still giving you the RNG option for the unexpected gear or roll you didn’t know you loved until you got it.

We’re adding two new predictable reward pursuits in Season of the Undying.

Seasonal Artifact Our first addition is the new Seasonal Artifact, which is free to all players. This will allow you to further customize your Guardian’s build every Season by unlocking additional mods to socket in your Armor 2.0 gear. Earning XP just by playing will level up your Artifact, letting you unlock the next mod you want for your characters.

While leveling up and unlocking mods, you will also increase the Power of the Artifact, which will continue increasing until the end of the Season (yes, it is uncapped). Artifact Power adds directly to your overall Power and is account-wide. We are both excited, and a little terrified, to see how high players will manage to raise their Artifact Power during the Season.

We want the Artifact to let us experiment more freely with our sandbox. During the last five years of Destiny, we’ve really wrestled with (and continue to wrestle with) obsolescence and permanence in player Power. So, when we were coming up with something new in the Seasonal Artifact, we wanted to figure out how we could have a system that allowed players to create build-altering powers yet not need to commit indefinitely to whatever they made and have it live on forever.

We want to date new builds, not get them hitched into the forever combat ecosystem.

It doesn’t have to be forever anymore. The Artifact can spotlight some different ways to play each Season and introduce new types of perks, while we (and you!) can experiment more boldly with new combinations and expressions of Power. We want to use the Artifact as a mechanic to allow the game to shift some each Season. In an action game like Destiny, part of the fun can be discovering new ways to play.

Here’s an example from my own play: I earned Wendigo this season. I did it naturally, by grinding a ton of strikes (although I was pretty tempted to go farm Blind Well with a group to make it go faster). I ended up using Fighting Lion a bunch in these strikes to get my grenade kills (omg why don’t the guys at the end of “The Hollowed Lair��� count?!). What I found was that I really liked using Grenade Launchers, but I hadn’t really given them a spot in my routine PvE loadout (I don’t have Mountaintop). But as I was playing with Fighting Lion, I was getting better at using breech-loaded Grenade Launchers and at timing my detonations, et cetera.

So, while I was on WendigoQuest, I ended up developing an appreciation for an archetype I’d largely overlooked, and I developed some new skills (OK, “skills”) while earning Wendigo.

Seasonal Artifacts and Seasonal mods will go away at the end of each Season. And the new Season will bring a new Artifact, new mods, and a new pursuit for Power. This way, we can try bolder balance choices each Season with the sandbox, and if we get it a little wrong, we’ll be more likely to let it ride for the whole Season without nerfing your new favorite OP build.

Seasonal XP Progression The second predictable reward chase we’re adding to Seasons are Season Pass Ranks. Some of you might have spotted this on the August 14 armor stream, but we didn’t provide any context. Without context, it’s really easy to find yourself on the jumping-to-conclusions mat. (This is totally human; we all do it. I certainly do. It’s OK.)

Let’s talk about these ranks.

We want to make sure that each Season has multiple, complementary reward sources, because we all play Destiny differently, and we want to be able to customize our Guardians the way we want to. We will continue to have RNG rewards as a part of our activities, and we also want to add a direct track of rewards each Season that you can progress every evening. The best weapons and armor will still live in the treasure chests of our toughest monsters and villains, but we hope now there will be fewer nights where players feel like they logged into Destiny and got nothing done.

The Internet is talking a lot about different builds in games. Season Ranks are kind of like a build for playing a season of Destiny. Grabbing bounties, doing strikes, completing weekly challenges—these are straightforward ways to unlock Season Pass Ranks when you don’t have the time to arrange a raid group, or check Google for the right strategies to solve a problem, or gamble against RNG (where it feels like the house always wins). The ranks help our friends in the community who have families and/or full time jobs, or who are deep in finals territory at college. Sometimes you just want to log in, grab some bounties, shoot some aliens (or Guardians), earn XP, and chill with your friends.

That’s why we’ve added 100 ranks to earn each Season, with Free and Premium track rewards, plus a UX design that’s intuitive and familiar if you play other games. Unlike those other games, you’ll make progress by earning XP doing the things you’re already doing in Destiny—defeating monsters and completing bounties and activities. This is about a new additive layer of predictable rewards for just playing the game.

Here’s a look at the Season Pass UI:

It’s All Part of the Season

With every Season Pass, you will get everything you’d expect from a Destiny Season (new activities, rewards, a storyline, et cetera), not just the new Season Rank UI and the reward tracks. Like I alluded to way back in the first Director’s Cut, we need more sustainable ways to deliver rewards, and the Season Rank UI is a big step in us getting there.

So now, with all this context, let’s look at what you Season Pass owners get in Season of the Undying (which, again, is included with Shadowkeep):

Season Pass owners get access to a new seasonal activity, the Vex Offensive, which includes:

Four Legendary Weapon drops

Additional weekly and daily bounties

Additional weekly challenges with powerful rewards

A new weapon quest for an Exotic Bow, Leviathan’s Breath

Exclusive to Season Pass owners

A new Exotic Hand Cannon, Eriana’s Vow

Awarded on Rank 35 of the free track

Awarded on Rank 1 of the premium track

Three seasonal Legendary armor sets (one for each class)

Collect a complete set during the first 25 ranks of the free track

NOTE: This is a change from the Annual Pass, where you were required to purchase gear from the Season.

On the premium track you get all three sets on Rank 1

These also drop within the Vex Offensive seasonal activity

If you want versions with higher stat tiers, you’ll need to play Vex Offensive to earn them

Some additional premium track rewards:

Three universal ornament armor sets (one for each class)

An Exotic weapon ornament for Eriana’s Vow

Two Legendary weapon ornaments

A new finisher

An Exotic emote

An Exotic ship

Progression, or How Differently You All Play Destiny For many of us, Destiny 2 is a regular hobby, but how that hobby fits in with our lives is different. We have players who play every day, we have players who have 10–15 hours a week, and we have players who log in for whatever time they can spare. Every season, Destiny 2 will change, and the community working on changing the world together means that we want all of our community to be able to be a part of it.

Some other games let players buy every rank when a new Season begins. In Destiny, we want your time spent playing the game to matter; we want the first players who unlock a bunch of the sweet stuff to have unlocked it through play, not pay. Some players are going to work super hard trying reach rank 100 as quickly as possible. We think that’s great.

But again, all of you play Destiny 2 differently, and when we say we want the whole community to be part of how the world changes every season, we keep coming back to giving players the choice of how they want to spend their time. Based on how a lot of you play, 100 ranks is going to be cleared in the season, but not all of you will have the time.

To solve for how our community plays Destiny, we’re planning to allow Season Ranks to be purchased as a catch-up mechanic late in the season. We’re going to wait to see how players engage with Season Ranks and make sure it’s tuned well before determining exactly when we unlock the ability.

Season of the Undying runs for 10 weeks, and we’re currently thinking of enabling this somewhere in the last 2–4 weeks of the Season. We know that sometimes life gets in the way, and you just want to get the last few rewards before the season ends and everything resets. In the same way that we’ve been doing seasonal catch-up for Power, we think providing a late-in-the-season rank catch up makes sense. This initial version is our starting point, and the way we’ve designed Seasons moving forward means that we’re going to be able to have the flexibility to tune how this works once we see how Season of the Undying goes.

I see you: “Did Bungie just raise the XP needed to get a rank to some ridiculous level so that players have to buy ranks at the end of the season?” The answer to that question is NO. For example, in our internal team tests, playing strikes in a fairly relaxed manner (18 minutes per strike play time) with full stacks of bounties can get a Seasonal Rank in less than one hour. Every week, Guardians also get rest XP bonuses (per account), where their first three ranks are at triple XP. Playing strikes with full stacks of bounties and rest XP should get 10 ranks in around 8 hours. And knowing you, we’ll all see even better ways you’ll min-max your time to clear your ranks.

Our goal in tuning this is for our most committed Destiny players, who start on week 1, to reach Rank 100 simply by doing the things they already love spending their time on. If that’s not happening, we have the freedom and ability to adjust. We want Destiny to be your home however you want to play and hit 100. You may never want or need to buy a rank. We just want our community to be able to play together as easily as possible and narratively be part of the Destiny world as it changes.

Your Seasonal Rank also goes away at the end of the Season—a new Season of ranks and rewards will take its place. And like our Seasonal Activities, we don’t want important gameplay-focused rewards to be inaccessible to players who missed a season, so any Legendary or Exotic weapons introduced in a Season Pass will be attainable in future Seasons. Those coveted rewards won’t be available immediately, but it won’t take longer than six months either. More details on that soon.

*New Light, Removing Barriers for Friends, and $0 We’ve talked a lot about what you get if you buy the Season Pass, but let’s talk about what you get with Destiny 2 for spending nothing. This fall, new friends playing Destiny 2 for the first time are coming, and we’re going to make Destiny a great experience for everyone. At its core, what makes Destiny 2 special and a place we all come back to is the community, the friendships, and the memories made along the way. Destiny is best if you can convince your friends to play, and we think a $0 price tag is another way to make that easier. The default version of Destiny 2 this fall will be New Light, and on top of all of D2Y1 available for free with New Light, we’re going to make sure there’s plenty of new, free content in Season of the Undying. Here’s some of what all players (even without the season pass) can access on October 1:

Alt: All Destiny 2 players, whether you’re coming in with New Light or are all-in on Shadowkeep and Season of the Undying, will have access to the following:

Patrolling the Moon destination

The opening mission of Shadowkeep  

Two new strikes

Crucible Updates

Two returning PvP maps from the D1 era—Widow’s Court and Twilight Gap

Elimination in Crucible Labs

Armor 2.0 build customization

Eye of the Gate Lord Seasonal Artifact

New finishers

Two new pinnacle weapons: one for Gambit and one for Crucible

Free Seasonal Rank rewards, which include:

New Exotic weapon—Eriana’s Vow

Three Legendary armor sets (1 per class)

Two Legendary weapons

Best of Year 2 Bright Engrams

Glimmer and upgrade modules

The Legendary armor and weapons that come with the free Seasonal Ranks are like sampler platters for the Season Pass. If you want to find the best stat rolls for that armor, you will need to play the Seasonal activity and get the drops. But players who just want to collect all of the armor can earn the base version from the free track.

Eriana’s Vow, the new Exotic on our Seasonal track also drops on the free track (but you get it earlier if you have the Season Pass). We have also added a lot of rewards on the free track that are nice quality-of-life rewards for players, like upgrade modules, which are free Infusions.

How This Could’ve Worked Last Year This has been a pretty dense dump of information (thankfully it has more pictures than the Director’s Cuts did). I wanted to wrap this up by looking at how a season of content done in the style of Year 3 might’ve worked with some Year 2 content we all remember.

Let’s re-imagine the Season of the Forge in Year X of Bizzaro-Destiny

(begin Wayne’s World do-loo-loo-loo)

A week before the Season begins, all players receive a note in their mailbox. It simply reads: “I have returned from the stars. Meet me on Dec. 4 at 10:15 AM PST. —Ada” Once this note has been given out, a small countdown timer appears on the Traveler. When the timer reaches 0, players in the Tower see a ship unlike any they’ve ever seen land between Zavala and Lord Shaxx. A figure transmats out and walks through the Tower, opening a door that had long been shut. Players follow the character through the Tower and the figure lowers her hood and greets players, “I am Ada, and we have work to do.”

The Season Pass in the Director is updated, the rewards are revealed, and now Ada and players begin a Season-long experience of refining forges in the world, completing bounties, finding materials, working on Black Armory armor sets, and taking on the new raid, Scourge of the Past. In a twist, Datto and his group are the first to finish.

As players work together to forge weapons early in the track, smithing and building new ones, the room around Ada begins to change. The schematic data from players’ work is resulting in new weapons and mods for players to create. These weapons and mods don’t all require playing the Seasonal activity—some of them are found in new encounters within strikes, some of them are forged in Last Wish (like the Alchemy Lab in Blackwing Lair).

As the player community plays, meta objectives are revealed. Once a certain number of players have unlocked ranks on the Pass, cinematics unlock for everyone to watch. We see the Drifter and Ada arguing over something pitting the two against each other, the scene ends with Drifter raising an eyebrow at a set of gun schematics behind Ada.

As the Season winds to a close, the Drifter begins to summon players to him. He’s having a new space built in the Tower, and the first people he asks for help are those who’ve earned the title of Dredgen. Now players begin to gather materials and donate them to fund the Drifter’s new scam. The Drifter won’t stop talking about the gun schematics he saw behind Ada.

Very late in the Season, players notice Ada’s room looks like it’s being packed up. She’s leaving. The schematics that sat behind her are missing. Over the course of a few weeks, she packs her equipment and, in an event similar to her arrival, she vanishes. Ada, her wares, and her forges are gone.

Banshee-44 reminds players that even though Ada is gone, she left him the schematics for her weapons and armor, and he’ll be rotating them through over time.

And the Drifter asks you to visit him, saying he’s got a surprise…

(end Wayne’s World do-loo-loo-loo)

And while today, the “Let’s Pretend” section above is very much a work of fiction, we are working to build the technology that would make something like this possible and help make our Season Pass feel uniquely Destiny.

Wrap-Up Season Passes in Year 3 will in some ways feel very new and in other ways feel pretty similar to the Forsaken Annual Pass experience. Our intent is that the Season Pass mechanics—as we’re aligning everything with a single, evolving world and how we’re moving the Destiny story meaningfully forward—are additive to the core Destiny experience (we’re still going to have things like Holiday events, dungeons and secret missions, and all kinds of stuff that we hope surprises you!). It’s an evolution and an experiment, and hopefully what you’ve seen lately is that we’re going to keep being agile and continuing to make the best decisions for the game along with you. We’re excited to see where our unified seasonal philosophy will let us take the Destiny universe over the next year.

(Also, thanks for all of the comments and responses to the Director’s Cuts—I have some deleted scenes and ideas on how the format could evolve when it returns next year!)

See you soon, Luke Smith

please don’t stop the music

also on ao3

The following day, Lara Jean quite literally has to drag Chris out of bed so they are not late to the activities fair. Gen wants them to be at their stand two hours early, which is a bit much for what is only a glorified table and a bunch of flyers, if you want Lara Jean’s opinion. But of course Gen doesn’t want her opinion, so Lara Jean forces Chris to get up and get dressed, before her new friend zombies her way to the food hall and inhales more coffee than is probably healthy so early in the morning.

“Not a morning person, huh?” Lara Jean teases her around a mouthful of pancake.

The food hall has waffles too, but it feels too much of a treat. At home it is, because taking out the waffle maker and cleaning it afterward is too much of a hassle for everyday-breakfast, and so Lara Jean doesn’t step away from habits drilled into her since childhood.

Chris points at her own face, not without difficulty. “Not even a person at that point,” she replies in a grumble, before she takes another cup of coffee. She’s having a grand total of one chocolate cookie with that, and Lara Jean has no idea how she’ll survive until lunch.

She will probably have to start sneaking energy bars in her new friend’s pockets, just in case. But for now she settles on enjoying her breakfast and, as Chris is otherwise preoccupied, on checking her Instagram account. Margot posted stories when she was asleep, she and her boyfriend Ravi going out to some welcome-back party in Scotland, followed a few hours later by the picture of a single cup of tea and a gif of a sleepy cat. Kitty had a sleepover at a friend’s, and binged Games of Thrones, which isn’t worrying at all. Josh just arrived on campus; Lara Jean tries not to think about it too much.

And p_kavinsky is now following her.

She elects to ignore that, too.

By some kind of miracle, Chris find it in her to down two more expressos, which isn’t all that smart but manages to make her look a little more alive. And a lot more fidgety. Lara Jean has to steer her clear from the coffee machine, not to make matter worth. She has no idea how they make it to the grounds and the activities fair, but somehow they do. Another one of those miracles, without a doubt.

Gen is, quite obviously, already there and their stand is, quite obviously, just as sad as Lara Jean imagined it would be. Gen is piling up flyers on their table, and some kind of banderole is still rolled up at their feet. With more than a few hours notice, Lara Jean could have baked cupcakes or brownies to lull people into talking to them and taking an interest in the acapella group. But, as it is, she just teams up with Chris to put the banderole up, then to stick some pictures from past concerts and events under it. Gen has her laptop opened now, showing videos of different songs the group has been performing in the past.

Lara Jean has to admit it looks more legit than she thought at first and so, when they’re done, she snaps a picture of the stand and sends it to Margot. To show her sister she’s putting herself up there and trying new things, instead of just hiding behind her blankets with a book. If Margot’s replying message of three thumbs up is anything to go by, she made the right choice.

Morning is a bit slow, probably because people are still moving in and finding their bearings. A girl called Allie, with beautiful brown skin and long hair, joins them soon enough, and then Emily (Gen’s friend, as lovely as she is) and Pammy, whose face has so many freckles Lara Jean finds herself staring a little.

Chris introduces her to both Allie and Pammy, while the other two girls stand to the side and ignore them. It’s fine with Lara Jean, really, and soon the four of them find themselves playing a ruthless game of blind test with Allie’s phone. Chris is better at this than could be expected in her state, faster than all the other girls combined and proud in each of their wins. They switch to a party of Heads Up! When she proves unbeatable, until Pammy decides to spice it up a little bit, with a song association game. Give one word, find a song with that world as quickly as possible.

They are mostly messing around and having fun, but their singing actually turn heads once people start trickling by. Some even stop by, getting the force of Gen’s speech the moment they seem more interested than curious. A couple of girls even take a flyer, nodding and smiling, but Lara Jean is too busy having fun with her new friends to really notice how popular their stand really is.

“Popsicle!” Allie throws in their next round.

The song pops into Lara Jean’s mind immediately -- too many months of Margot obsessed with musicals, all types of musicals, for her not to know that one. Still, she hesitates. The song is powerful, more powerful than her voice can probably managed. She bites down on her lip, anxious, until Chris nudges her leg with the tip of her combat boot.

She raises her eyebrows at Lara Jean, teasing and challenging all at once.

Lara Jean straightens her back even as she takes a deep breath. “Dearest, darlingest Momsie and Popsicle,” she starts, her voice more confident than she feels.

Chris swallows back a grin, her voice flat. “My dear father.”

“There’s been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz,” they go on at the same time, managing to harmonise rather nicely despite never having done so before.

Chris seems impressed too, even if her voice turns into a small laugh as Lara Jean quickly grabs her phone and looks up the lyrics. She might know the song but -- she’s not entirely well-versed in all the lyrics, so a bit of help is always nice. They go through the lines easily -- too easily, perhaps.

“There's been some confusion, for you see, my roomate is…”

Lara Jean rolls her eyes theatrically as she adds, in a voice that is not entirely hers, more high-pitched than she really is comfortable, “Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe…”

“Blonde,” Chris states in a deadpan voice, swatting Lara Jean’s hair in the process.

They both laugh a little, which makes for a shaky few lines. Not that it matters much, when they’re having so much fun. It’s not really about the quality of their voices, more about this moment they are sharing, Chris looking at the lyrics above her shoulder and grinning like a madwoman, Lara Jean forgetting about her fear of the spotlight.

People do stop and stare, and listen. She can feel their eyes on her even as she jumps into the chorus with Chris, and to her feet. Chris grabs her hand even as she sings about how much she loathes Lara Jean, and the effect is lost on how much the both of them are giggling.

Allie and Pammy provide the background singing for them, Pammy now having her phone opened on the lyrics too. Even Gen has stopped talking to look at them -- Lara Jean chances a glance her way, and the blonde’s eyes are unreadable. Like she is puzzled, upset at them stealing the attention away from her, and delightfully surprised all at once.

“What is this feeling, so sudden and new? I felt the moment I led my eyes on you…”

A crowd has gathered around them now. Lara Jean’s heart is racing. Adrenaline. Fear. Unadulterated joy. She grins, and laughs, and sings. Damn, does she sings.

“Truly, deeply loathing, my whole life long!”

Chris gets into her face to scream a ‘Boo!’ and Lara Jean’s answering shriek of fake surprise is swallowed by the applause around them. One boy is whistling. Gen is already yelling about whoever might be interested to join their group. Emily shoves flyers into people’s face.

And there, behind the crowd, is Peter staring right at Lara Jean. Even with Chris’ arm thrown around her shoulders, the both of them laughing together, Lara Jean feels his eyes on her and turns her head toward him. Her laugh dies on her tongue when he smiles at her -- that full-face smile, with the scrunching nose and everything -- and holds his can of coke up as a silent toast.

Chris notices, because of course she does, her eyes travelling between Lara Jean and Peter before the slightest of frowns settles between her brows. “You know Peter?” she asks, her voice soft enough for the alarm bells in Lara Jean’s head to start chiming.

“Yeah, he’s an old friend. How do you know him?”

Chris evens her with A Look, capital letters and all. “He’s Gen’s Peter,” is all she needs to say for a stone to drop in Lara Jean’s stomac, right at the bottom. “I mean, he was Gen’s, they broke up, but...”

She remembers yesterday’s awkward conversation with Gen, the certainty in her voice when she declares than her boyfriend and she were still together. “He still belongs to her,” Lara Jean finishes for her friend, though she has no idea why she’s disappointed.

It’s not as if she wanted to date Peter, or anything. Sure, reuniting with him after all those years yesterday was nice, and they had a pleasant chat after the initial accident was put behind. He even made her laugh once or twice, and grinned every time she stifled a giggle behind her hand. And it was nice, getting to know Peter K again. Nice, but different. Unexpected.

Lara Jean hadn’t thought past meeting with him once in a while, to grab coffee and chat. But it seems her subconscious had other ideas, now crushed under the heel of Gen’s ugly Uggs. It’s okay, though. She had a crush on him once, and she got over him. It won’t be hard to do the same again now, especially since it’s barely even a crush. Just… an interest.

“It’s fine,” she says out loud. To Chris or to herself, she doesn’t know. “He’s not my type anyway.”

Chris’ laugh is sarcastic at best. And loud, too loud. “Excuse me? Dude, I’m a lesbian but even I find him cute. Like, come on…”

Lara Jean purses her lips and shakes her head, a little too manically, until Chris drops it. She unwraps her arm from around Lara Jean’s shoulders to take a few steps back. She doesn’t say anything, but she points two fingers at her eyes, then at Lara Jean’s, then at hers again. Lara Jean rolls her eyes, but smiles.

“Yeah, sure,” Chris comments. “Okay, come, let’s steal some food from the queer club, I’m starving.”

Lara Jean follows, not without one last glance above her shoulder.

Peter is long gone.

Is there a link between anxiety and alcoholism?

Data Management and Visualization 

Bill Sutherland 

The connection between anxiety disorders and alcoholism 

STEP 1: Choose a data set that you would like to work with. 

NESARC Wave 1

STEP 2. Identify a specific topic of interest I have an interest in researching which how anxiety disorders may correlate with alcohol abuse. 

I’m interested because my kids’ mother is an alcoholic and I want to understand which factors may contribute to abusing alcohol. If I can discover the correlations, then I can be mindful about teaching skills to my kids that might help them avoid abusing alcohol

I think my first challenge is going to be creating a subset of respondents who meet the criteria of an alcoholic. The criteria are subjective and open to scrutiny, but I will use the variables available to me to build the subset.

STEP 3. Prepare a codebook of your own. Variables that will make up my subset.

I first want to identify the subset of alcoholics. I will use the variable ALCABDEP12DX (ALCOHOL ABUSE/DEPENDENCE IN LAST 12 MONTHS) and ALCABDEPP12DX (ALCOHOL ABUSE/DEPENDENCE PRIOR TO THE LAST 12 MONTHS).

Tape Location Question Variable = ALCABDEP12DX ALCOHOL ABUSE/DEPENDENCE IN LAST 12 MONTHS 1 ALCABDEPP12DX ALCOHOL ABUSE/DEPENDENCE PRIOR TO THE LAST 12 MONTHS 1

Now I want to identify those people who have experienced anxiety symptoms.

Next, I’d like to know which of those people in my anxiety subset sought treatment for their anxiety.

Next, I’d like to know which of those people in my anxiety subset did not seek treatment.

Next, I’d like to know the correlation between those people who sought treatment for anxiety and those who did not with whether they are in the alcoholic subset.

STEP 4. Identify a second topic that you would like to explore in terms of its association with your original topic. 

I’m curious if there’s a link between alcoholism and the type of anxiety experienced. According to the National Institute of Mental Health (https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/anxiety-disorders/index.shtml), there are several types of anxiety. Generalized Anxiety Disorder People with generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) display excessive anxiety or worry, most days for at least 6 months, about a number of things such as personal health, work, social interactions, and everyday routine life circumstances. The fear and anxiety can cause significant problems in areas of their life, such as social interactions, school, and work. Generalized anxiety disorder symptoms include: a. Feeling restless, wound-up, or on-edge b. Being easily fatigued c. Having difficulty concentrating; mind going blank d. Being irritable e. Having muscle tension f. Difficulty controlling feelings of worry g. Having sleep problems, such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, restlessness, or unsatisfying sleep

Panic Disorder People with panic disorder have recurrent unexpected panic attacks. Panic attacks are sudden periods of intense fear that come on quickly and reach their peak within minutes. Attacks can occur unexpectedly or can be brought on by a trigger, such as a feared object or situation.

During a panic attack, people may experience:

Heart palpitations, a pounding heartbeat, or an accelerated heartrate

Sweating

Trembling or shaking

Sensations of shortness of breath, smothering, or choking

Feelings of impending doom

Feelings of being out of control

Phobia-related disorders A phobia is an intense fear of—or aversion to—specific objects or situations. Although it can be realistic to be anxious in some circumstances, the fear people with phobias feel is out of proportion to the actual danger caused by the situation or object. People with a phobia: • May have an irrational or excessive worry about encountering the feared object or situation • Take active steps to avoid the feared object or situation • Experience immediate intense anxiety upon encountering the feared object or situation • Endure unavoidable objects and situations with intense anxiety

There are several types of phobias and phobia-related disorders: Specific Phobias (sometimes called simple phobias): As the name suggests, people who have a specific phobia have an intense fear of, or feel intense anxiety about, specific types of objects or situations. Some examples of specific phobias include the fear of: • Flying • Heights • Specific animals, such as spiders, dogs, or snakes • Receiving injections • Blood

Social anxiety disorder (previously called social phobia): People with social anxiety disorder have a general intense fear of, or anxiety toward, social or performance situations. They worry that actions or behaviors associated with their anxiety will be negatively evaluated by others, leading them to feel embarrassed. This worry often causes people with social anxiety to avoid social situations. Social anxiety disorder can manifest in a range of situations, such as within the workplace or the school environment. Agoraphobia: People with agoraphobia have an intense fear of two or more of the following situations: • Using public transportation • Being in open spaces • Being in enclosed spaces • Standing in line or being in a crowd • Being outside of the home alone People with agoraphobia often avoid these situations, in part, because they think being able to leave might be difficult or impossible in the event they have panic-like reactions or other embarrassing symptoms. In the most severe form of agoraphobia, an individual can become housebound.

Separation anxiety disorder: Separation anxiety is often thought of as something that only children deal with; however, adults can also be diagnosed with separation anxiety disorder. People who have separation anxiety disorder have fears about being parted from people to whom they are attached. They often worry that some sort of harm or something untoward will happen to their attachment figures while they are separated. This fear leads them to avoid being separated from their attachment figures and to avoid being alone. People with separation anxiety may have nightmares about being separated from attachment figures or experience physical symptoms when separation occurs or is anticipated. Selective mutism: A somewhat rare disorder associated with anxiety is selective mutism. Selective mutism occurs when people fail to speak in specific social situations despite having normal language skills. Selective mutism usually occurs before the age of 5 and is often associated with extreme shyness, fear of social embarrassment, compulsive traits, withdrawal, clinging behavior, and temper tantrums. People diagnosed with selective mutism are often also diagnosed with other anxiety disorders. STEP 5. Add questions/items/variables documenting this second topic to your personal codebook.

My goal with this second question is to categorize the variables into anxiety disorders. Generalized Anxiety Disorder Tape Location Question Values S9Q1A EVER HAD 6+ MONTH PERIOD FELT TENSE/NERVOUS/WORRIED MOST OF TIME Yes = 1 S9Q1B EVER HAD 6+ MONTH PERIOD FELT VERY TENSE/NERVOUS/WORRIED MOST OF TIME ABOUT EVERYDAY PROBLEMS Yes = 1 S9Q31 IN WORST PERIOD, EVER WORRY A LOT ABOUT THINGS YOU USUALLY DIDN'T WORRY ABOUT Yes = 1

Panic Disorder Tape Location Question Values S6Q1 HAD PANIC ATTACK, SUDDENLY FELT FRIGHTENED/OVERWHELMED/NERVOUS AS IF IN GREAT DANGER BUT WERE NOT Yes = 1 S6Q3 THOUGHT WAS HAVING HEART ATTACK, BUT DOCTOR SAID JUST NERVES OR PANIC ATTACK Yes = 1 S6Q61 HAD TROUBLE CATCHING BREATH, FELT SHORT OF BREATH, FELT LIKE SMOTHERING Yes = 1

Phobia Disorder Tape Location Question Values S7Q1 EVER HAD STRONG FEAR OR AVOIDANCE OF SOCIAL SITUATION Yes = 1 S7Q2 HAD FEAR/AVOIDANCE OF SOCIAL SITUATION DUE TO FEAR OF EMBARRASSMENT AT WHAT YOU MIGHT SAY/DO AROUND OTHERS Yes = 1 S7Q3 HAD FEAR/AVOIDANCE OF SOCIAL SITUATION DUE TO FEAR OF BECOMING SPEECHLESS, HAVING NOTHING TO SAY OR SAYING SOMETHING FOOLISH Yes = 1

STEP 6. Perform a literature review to see what research has been previously done on this topic. Use sites such as Google Scholar (http://scholar.google.com) to search for published academic work in the area(s) of interest. Try to find multiple sources and take note of basic bibliographic information.

The relationship between anxiety disorders and alcohol use disorders: A review of major perspectives and findings paper discusses the comorbidity between anxiety and alcoholism. - Matt G Kushner, Kenneth Abrams, Carrie Borchardt https://doi.org/10.1016/s0272-7358(99)00027-6 Link

Abstract It is generally agreed that problems related to alcohol use and anxiety tend to occur within the same individual (“comorbidity”); however, the cause of this association remains controversial. Three prominent perspectives are that anxiety disorder promotes pathological alcohol use, that pathological alcohol use promotes anxiety disorder and that a third factor promotes both conditions. We review laboratory, clinical, family, and prospective studies bearing on the validity of these explanatory models. Findings converge on the conclusion that anxiety disorder and alcohol disorder can both serve to initiate the other, especially in cases of alcohol dependence versus alcohol abuse alone. Further, evidence from clinical studies suggests that anxiety disorder can contribute to the maintenance of and relapse to pathological alcohol use. Relying heavily on pharmacological and behavioral laboratory findings, we tentatively propose that short-term anxiety reduction from alcohol use, in concert with longer-term anxiety induction from chronic drinking and withdrawal, can initiate a vicious feed-forward cycle of increasing anxiety symptoms and alcohol use that results in comorbidity.

STEP 7. Based on your literature review, develop a hypothesis about what you believe the association might be between these topics. Be sure to integrate the specific variables you selected into the hypothesis.

I hypothesize that those people who did not seek treatment for their anxiety have a higher chance of becoming an alcoholic.

Lunyx | Dirty Dancing Au | ch.3

Couple: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Nyx Ulric

Words: 7562

AO3 Link: message me if you need it ;)

Summary: Princess Lunafreya Lucis Caelum - the daughter of Regis Lucis Caelum and Sylva Nox Fleuret and the sister of Ravus and Noctis - is a very good mannered, intelligent, innocent and curios young girl. She sneaks out of Insomnia’s palace to join the Glaives in the slums, only to find Nyx and Crowe enjoying their hours of freedom by dancing senseless some galahdian dances in front of hundreds of people. When Crowe gets badly injured during her guard duty, Nyx needs to find a good partner before the dance competition of next month. That may be the hardest thing to find in Insomnia. Until Luna offers.

Comment: First of all, I’m sorry for the awfully long waiting. I have to thank @rsasai for editing this chapter in spite of everything, so I was finally able to publish it :3 thank you, darling, I really appreciate it. 

The next (and last) chapter is ready to be published too, and just for your information I tell you I’m focusing now on the “see Luna safe to Altissia” fic, the other big finale I know a lot of you are waiting for xD After seeing Episode Ignis, I finally have all the material I need for finish it, so expect that soon. 

Back to Dirty Dancing, look at Lunyx in this chapter, being sexy and so fricking in love and you’ll have a vague idea of hard I still ship it. I fear I will never get over them. 

Crowe was allowed to stand up from her bed only to move to the couch. Libertus was luckier than her, because — having only a leg broken — he could move around with crutches.

On a day when she was free from her royal appointments, Luna picked some sylleblossoms from the gardens and decided to pay to Crowe a visit for the first time since she decided to help with the dancing. She had some difficulties in finding her home, as all the Glaives lived in uniform block homes and no one seemed particularly keen on bringing her there. But Luna won in the end— as she always did — and she had her safe ride to the building. It was nothing more than a huge gray box divided in sections where every Glaive had their own apartment. It took Luna fifteen minutes to find Crowe's and when she did, she found Pelna in the kitchen, cooking only Pelna knew what. Luna couldn't recognize the smell so she supposed it was some kind of Galahdian food.

"Oh, Your Highness! What a surprise!" Pelna bowed when he saw the Princess enter, before he led the way to Crowe's room. The mage was there, lazily watching tv with a bored expression.

Luna waved the flowers to her, and the Glaive bursted out in a laugh and asked in a mocking tone, ”Do I look like a flower girl?"

"Next time I'll bring you chocolate,” Luna answered with a smile, making her way to the bed where her former bodyguard was situated.

"Do you want a cup of tea, Princess? Or an Ebony, maybe?" Pelna asked, but Luna only shook her head. Before he left, he made sure to bow again, far too deeply for Luna’s liking.

“Really, I'm fine,” the Princess said, trying to put him at ease, but considering his pulled face she knew that would have been a challenge.

"Ok... So, uhm, have fun?” When Pelna left, Luna slowly turned around to glance at Crowe, with a highly raised eyebrow.

"... You and Pelna, huh?" Crowe rolled her eyes and sighed, frustrated.

"Not what you think. He's a friend and he helps me with food and other things since I can't get out of this bed." The brunette seemed almost irritated by the insinuation and since Luna didn't come to start a fight, the only thing she could do was to let it go. Luna was hundred percent positive that Pelna didn't consider Crowe just a friend, even if Crowe didn’t quite see it in the same light.

“That’s fine, don't get mad at me, now. How do you feel?" Crowe sighed and pointed at her feet, both closed in plaster.

"They won't let me move for a least another couple of weeks. But Princess … I’m so bored."

Luna could only imagine the stress Crowe felt, as she would have felt the same way. Thanks to the Stars, she had Nyx protecting her with his own body when the accident happened, otherwise she would have been in the same condition. Or… maybe she would have been dead. Luna realized she owed Nyx more than she had ever said, and maybe that was the true reason as to why she really wanted to help him with the dance contest.

While she was listening to Crowe complain, the Princess went searching through Crowe’s apartment for a nice vase, putting the flowers in it. The two girls chatted a bit and then finally they touched on the subject they cared for the most.

"So how’s the training going?" Luna gazed at her friend and sighed. Crowe seemed to get the idea pretty fast. "Oh. How bad?"

"No, no, I mean, Nyx is amazing, but ..."

"Is he ...?" It was Crowe's turn to raise her eyebrows. Luna grimaced before putting on a smile.

"Well, he may be stern sometimes. But he's not the problem. It's me. I ... am not at his level."

"Of course you're not. He’s been dancing since he was 16, while you stared three weeks ago."

"That's what he says, too. But excuses won't win competitions. And I ... just ... don't want to let Nyx down." Luna swallowed, feeling her heart breaking in her chest. She let herself fall onto the bed next to Crowe. Crowe felt like she had to comfort her somehow so she just reached for her hand, causing herself some pain when her ribs creaked.

“I think that with a good wig, people won’t even notice the difference between you and I. And even if you don’t win, remember that it's just a competition. Nyx’ll understand."

"But you all need money to go back to Galahd… And you wouldn’t ever accept a personal donation, right? So you have to win. You deserve the chance to start a new life, to not be considered only ‘immigrants.' You’re more than that."

Crowe grimaced. "Nyx told you about those things, didn't he?" Luna nodded, so the other girl just shook her head. "It is the truth, being immigrants in Insomnia is hard. We were chosen because of our affinity with the King's magic on the battlefield, but this doesn't mean we’re treated any better because of it. It’s actually the opposite. The fact we have to live in here, in apartments made of cement instead of the wood houses we were used to in Galahd is evidence of low we are on the list. But this shouldn’t be a weight on your shoulders. Even if you're the Princess, you can't change the mentality of an entire city." Luna felt tears prickling her eyes but she pushed them back. She was stronger than that, at least for now.

"But I want to do something. That’s why I have to help Nyx win that competition." Crowe moved with difficulty on the bed, trying to look her in the face.

“You're helping already. If these are your feelings, I'm sure Nyx is able understand them the same way I do. Just your willingness to support us. it means the world to me.”

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

"So, Nyx. What have you been up to lately? We don't see you at the club anymore." Tredd Furia entered in the locker room where Nyx and Libertus -—still hobbling on his crutches — where chatting after their daily training. He was accompanied by Luche and Axis, all of whom seemed bored enough to take the chance to torment their colleagues with their typical bullshit. Thanks to the Stars, even with the treaty on stake, there were no scuffles inside or outside the city, so none of the Kingsglaive were needed on the battlefield. This allowed them to have calm days with easy schedules.

"If you didn't notice, Crowe was badly injured. Why should I come to the club if she’s not there? To dance with you?" Nyx joked, covering his muscled and tattooed chest with a simple t-shirt. He hoped that sarcasm would help him avoid the dangerous possibility of slipping up just a little too much… the one where he accidentally betrayed the Princess.

Tredd looked at his two malicious friends beside him and crossed arms. "We all thought you had a secret date. After all, you didn't retire from the contest, right? So, who's gonna take Crowe's place?"

Nyx hesitated. "Not your business,” he answered, knowing that he was a bad liar. Silence was the better option.

"So, there's a secret date."

"Hey, shut your mouth!" Libertus intervened.

But Tredd didn't seem to care as he continued, "I hope she can stand at Crowe's level, because the other dancers are gonna be tough to beat,” he said, pointing at himself. It was no secret he was one of the participants, too. Nyx rolled the eyes.

"Oh, please. Don’t make me laugh.”

"It would be a shame to see you fail when you're so close to fleeing from Insomnia,” Tredd insisted. He was perfectly aware of what was at stake, and everyone knew he aimed for the contest prize with the same motivation Nyx had. Tredd took his things from the locker and blinked slowly at Nyx, trying to provoke him. It worked in a way, because his mere presence was enough to infuriate him, but Nyx knew better than to pick a fight.

"We'll discuss it on the stage,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. He looked at Tredd like he could burn him with his gaze alone before closing the locker and leaving, Libertus following him at a hobble on his crutches.

-----------

Nyx intensified the trainings, fueled by spite, but with much frustration from Luna. Nyx's hopes of her doing the infamous jump seemed, however, to be in vain. She was just not coordinated enough, or maybe (as Nyx was convinced) she was far too scared and lacked the trust required to do the scene. This created some quarrels and tension between the two. Nyx got clearly more nervous after Tredd challenged him so directly and Luna started to have some problems in putting up with the ever-raising difficulty of the training.

"I am not a flexible doll— you just can't throw me up in the sky hoping that I move the way you want!" she yelled one day after a catastrophic near-fall, because of Nyx's impulsivity. Of course, Nyx wouldn't ever let her fall and he had managed to catch her by the skin of his teeth, yet the unexpected move frightened the Princess.

"I know what I’m doing!" the Glaive yelled back, opening his arms.

"Well, I don't!" Luna stopped the stereo with a sharp movement. Now she was tired and upset.

"You have to trust me, Princess! You. Have. To. Trust. Me."

"I trust you, it's just ..." And she didn't finish the sentence. She didn't even know what to say. Whatever the real reason, it was beyond her ability to jump correctly.

They just had to cut that part out from the dance, rendering the choreography far less interesting but manageable for Luna. Nyx hoped that the rest of the dance would be so perfect that the judges wouldn't even notice the absence of it. Otherwise, they surely would lose the competition.

---------

The day of the selection arrived far too soon and Luna didn't feel ready for it.

As soon as she arranged the perfect excuse with her family, she ran downstairs where she found Nyx, ready to pick her up as promised. He took her to the theater where the first phase of competition would take place. Even if Nyx assured her that the selection would be the easiest part, she was so nervous it was clear it wouldn't end well. When they arrived backstage, Nyx tried his best to be gentle and understanding.

"Princess, you have to calm down,” he said, adjusting her wig so it wouldn't fall down to her forehead during the show. His gesture was sweet indeed and Luna appreciated it a lot. “You've become a great dancer really quick. Come what may, you’ve nothing to embarrass yourself."

But no matter how reassuring the Glaive could be, Luna couldn't really share the same feeling. She watched her image at the mirror, barely recognizing herself under weight of the brown wig and the tribal costume which let her skin very exposed. She still had the feeling of not being prepared enough niggling its way through her guts. Behind her, Nyx was dressed to match her outfit, but he was shirtless, some symbols painted on his bare skin. He was looking at her with worried eyes; it was like he was expecting to see her crumble right before the competition.

When a voice called out Nyx Ulric's and Crowe Altius' names and they reached the stage, Luna felt like all their efforts in the last month had been nothing but a waste of time.

The lights were blinding.

The Princess could barely see the people beyond it, but she knew they were there. She could hear them breathe, whispering comments. What if someone recognized her? Or worse, what if she tripped or made the wrong move?

Nyx pulled her hand, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. "Remember: don't look at anything else but me. It's just you and me. The rest of the world doesn't exist." His voice was the only thing capable to give her the strength to not faint.

She swallowed and the music started. The rhythm had become familiar to Luna in the last weeks, so she just had to try to relax a bit and imagine they were alone in the room. Nyx's presence was reassuring in the same way as the music. Somehow, he had become the magnet that pushed and pulled her, which allowed them to move perfectly in spite of all the stress. Their bodies entwined exactly like they were supposed to. Their moves were smooth, precise…

Mechanical.

The nervousness on the Princess' face couldn't be erased in a matter of seconds. It was easy to predict, Luna moved beautifully... and far too technically.

Nyx wasn't one to not expect it, since he had grown to know her well in those weeks. He knew the way her mind tricked her, he knew her fears, her insecurities. Halfway through the dance he was pretty sure it would have been better to blindfold her once again if he wanted to dance with Luna instead of a robot. When they finished the dance — of course without the damn jump — Luna was ready to cry. The applause covered her sniffs, while Nyx's hug covered her red cheeks, so the public didn't notice how broken the young ballerina was feeling.

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

The ride back to the palace was stiflingly silent.

After two minutes behind the wheel, Nyx tried to say something that would give a modicum of comfort, "We passed the first round, so don’t worry. We still have a chance to win."

But Luna just blinked at him, eyes full of angry tears. She was not angry at him, of course. She was so angry with herself, for not being able to stand at his level. Nyx sighed, trying not to let her hear him. He wasn't in the mood to put up with her frustration, since he wasn't in the mood for anything actually. It was just hard being the one giving comfort when he was the one feeling down. He knew he couldn't blame the Princess, since she was trying her best, yet he would have gladly asked the universe why he could never have something good happen in his life. He really wanted to win that contest, and even if he initially was one of the favorites now things were looking very different; Tredd Furia passed the first round too and presented himself like one of the best, possibly even the frontrunner. If he won, Nyx would have to deal with his obnoxious bragging for the rest of the year, and Nyx was sure the entire Kingsglaive's department wasn't ready for that.

For now, Nyx had to force himself to focus on driving, but in reality, all he thought about was the horrible feeling of having his heart broken as he watched his dreams of going back to Galhad getting further and further away.

-----------

The next morning, Nyx didn't show up to his usual guard duty. For the first time in his entire career as a Kingsglaive, he left a message that said he felt sick, and Captain Drautos didn't have any other choice but to let him stay home.

Luna felt like the hole she was trying to fill inside her chest suddenly became larger than a ravine. The sense of guilt didn't ease the entire day. She was firmly convinced it was her fault, and even if she knew he probably only wanted to be alone right now, when the sun set, she felt a need growing inside her—she needed to see him.

She had dinner with her family and if they noticed something was off, they didn't say anything. Except Noctis, of course. He knew her better than almost anyone else in the world, and was the only one who pulled her to the side.

"What happened?" he asked in a whisper as they made their way to the fireplace room. They stayed a bit behind in the corridor, following after the others. Ravus blinked at them but he never dared disturb their little talks. It was clear that he had no intention of starting now as he headed into the room.

"I'm fine."

Noct almost seemed offended by her lie. ”Last time you didn't touch Ignis' spaghetti was when you had measles,” he replied, salty. "C'mon, what's going on?"

Luna entwined her fingers in front of her chest, not knowing how to hide her heartbreak anymore. She kept still.

"So, how's your gym course? Are you making any progress?" Noctis insisted, knowing what buttons to press to get a reaction. This time his voice was illusive, which made Luna jump, just the slightest of movements that gave her away. She took her brother's hand and pushed him aside in the corridor, checking to make sure their parents were out of hearing and seeing distance. Thank Bahamut they were far enough away.

"What do you know about my training?"

Noctis shrugged. “Nothing… Well, except that it isn't a gym course." The calm in his voice would have broken a saint.

"And what makes you think of that?"

"Well, where do you want me to start? Three to four hours of gym every evening is a long time for someone who wants to just stay in shape. Then you went on insisted that your training was outside of the Citadel? Like that didn’t set off red flags for me. Let’s see… the new expensive clothes. ... And that’s a nice perfume. Since when do you wear perfume?” Luna couldn’t stop her eyes from widening in dawning horror as Noctis lifted up finger after finger. It looked like he really had a long list. "Your daydreaming expression when —“

"Fine, fine!" Luna raised her hands in surrender, before he could continue any further. "I get it. You're a good detective."

Noctis crossed his arms, resting his back on the wall and abandoning himself to a very indulgent pose.

"So, who's he?" he asked, taking out his phone, tapping on the screen as he utterly ignored Luna’s panic.

"Why should it be—?” Noctis blinked coldly at her, lips pursed. Luna sighed. "The personal trainer,” she admitted in the end, lowering her shoulders in sign of guilty admission.

"A classic." Luna would have laughed at his tone but she really didn't have anything to laugh about.

"He's actually more than a personal trainer. It's... One of daddy's Glaives. He teaches me how to dance Galahdian's tribal dances."

Noctis furrowed the eyebrows, curious.  "Which one?"

"Nyx Ulric."

"The hero?" Noctis was clearly surprised by the identity of his sister's secret date, but his brain aimed at another more important question, "But aren't Galahdian dances supposed to be ... Well. You know." Luna's silence was answer enough. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of fluorescent red. "Wow, sis. Is this your version of 'go big or go home'?"

"Noctis, please."

"If dad finds out, you're dead, you know. If Ravus finds out, Ulric is too."

"That's the reason why you aren’t going to tell a soul, Noctis. Please!" Luna looked pretty distressed by the whole situation and Noctis was willing to let it go.

"Fine by me. But what you told me didn't explain why you feel down today."

Luna sighed and briefly told him what happened the day before. She told him about the first phase of the contest, and about her failure. Noctis listened patiently like the good brother he wanted to be, but Luna knew he couldn't wait to give his opinion, so he could quickly go back to playing King's Knight with Prompto or Gladio. As soon as she finished explaining, she looked at him, waiting for his reply. Noctis pouted his lips, stayed silent for the longest she had seen him since he was born, and then said, "Go to him, I'll cover you."

Luna almost panicked. "Go to him to say what, exactly?” Noctis started to walk towards the fireplace's room, where the rest of the family waited.

"I don't know. Your business, not mine. But you need to face him sooner rather than later, otherwise you’re gunna go bonkers. And he will too, even if he doesn't know it yet. "

For some reason, her brother's words lightened a bit the burden on Luna's heart.

Without even thinking twice, she was already turning her toward the exit of the Citadel. Noctis trusted her to go alone, thinking she was mature enough to deal with this kind of misunderstanding. Her entire family trusted her in general, because she had always been the wisest among the royal children, among the entire aristocratic youth. But that night, dealing for the first time in her life with new and complicated feelings, Luna felt her heart going so numb that her usual maturity became nothing but a hazy memory.

She snuck out of the Citadel, not even caring if someone noticed her absence. She found herself in front of Nyx’s apartment before she could fully comprehend where her crazy actions were leading her.

——————

Nyx opened the door and stared at Luna in shock. He swallowed after a moment of holding his breath, eyeing her simple white sweater, and jeans.

She was alone, in front of his apartment wearing nothing but an informal outfit to boot— it was not difficult to figure she snuck out of the Citadel once again.

“Hi…” Luna waved at him, shy and hesitant. She held herself in her own arms, like she was fearing her heart would have jumped out of her chest if she let go. “Can I come in?”

Nyx squeezed the eyes for a second, then nodded and moved to the side. Luna stepped ahead, walking far too close to him during the process. For some reason, this made the Glaive shiver.

Luna looked around, observing the simplicity of the apartment. She had never been inside the Glaive’s home, and it reminded her of Crowe’s. Just a simple bed, a couch, a table, a small kitchen, and a tv turned on to a music program. It was a bit of a mess, the curtains were closed and the room smelled of him. Even so — even if it was so different from the sophisticated chambers she was used to in the palace — Luna felt like her heart was lighter just being there… almost like it was home.

“You didn’t come to work today,” the Princess started, turning around to watch him close the door.

“I, uhm. Didn’t feel well.” Nyx put his hands in his pockets, probably aware he was not a good liar and his hands quivering showed that.

“You weren’t in the mood,” Luna corrected him, biting her down lip. “It’s because of my terrible performance yesterday, isn’t it?” Nyx breathed out, shaking his head.

“You weren’t terrible at all. You did amazing for a starter.” As Luna realized the meaning of his words, she felt tears tugging at her eyes once again.

“Yes, for a starter. But I was supposed to look like a professional. I’m so sorry, Nyx. I—I let… you down.” Nyx stepped a bit closer but stopped halfway, frowning and hesitating. The instinct to hug her was strong but too many things were prevent him from acting on that desire. He tried to follow the conversation instead of his natural instinct.

“You didn’t let me down, not at all. I’m not upset with you. I’m not upset with anyone but me.”

That affirmation surprised the girl. “… You?”

“I really need to apologize. You … You’re a Princess,” he started. All of a sudden, he closed his eyes and shook the head, gesturing at her in frustration. “What was I even thinking? You’re a Princess, you’re not supposed to humiliate yourself by dancing on a stage with a Glaive touching you… so inappropriately. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have accepted.”

“You say this only because I failed you.”

“No, you didn’t fail me. You—” Nyx breathed heavily, not even remembering the last time he struggled with words so much. “You honored me with your dedication to such a stupid cause! And I just can’t bear the idea you feel like you failed, when you should only be proud of yourself for all the effort you put in!” He couldn’t stop himself from continuing, “You lied to your family—“ he used the fingers to count the points on the list, "you never skipped a lesson, you put up with me and my teaching experiments, you sweated and damn-near broke your back during the trainings... Not even an immigrant from Galhad would have done something like that! And now you come to me to apologize because you didn’t dance like a pro? I can’t accept it. I don’t want to allow you to feel sorry for being gentle with me. You didn’t have to help me, yet you did because you’re brave and kind!”

The expression on Luna’s face changed drastically when she heard him speaking with such fervor. Her tears dried. Since she came to pay him a visit thinking he was avoiding her because of her bad performance on the stage, she really hadn’t expected him to confess his admiration instead. Her body reacted so strangely that she had to hold on the nearby table to mask her weakness. She didn’t even blush, she just kept staring at him in awe.

Nyx noticed immediately what reaction he had provoked with his words, so he broke eye contact, ashamed of having let his feelings pour out.

"You don't deserve to go this low for me. You belong to a shiny world while I .... I’m nothing." Such a statement truly touched Luna's heart. There was a deeper note in it that let the Princess understand he was not only referring to the dance anymore.

"That's not true, you're everything!"

Nyx swallowed but couldn't accept her words. He just rolled the eyes.

"You don't understand the way it is. People from Galahd or similar provinces aren’t allowed to elevate our status. We’re not allowed to be more than just immigrants. Your smallest bathroom is as big as two apartments in this building, but we are forced to live here, y’know? We tried to move to a bigger house but immigration laws said that no matter what service we glaives offer to the country, we can't leave this structure. It’s because 'the King said it's more practical'.

But we know the truth: Your father is just trying to stop us from spreading all around the corners of the city, where he won’t be able to control us. You can waltz and participate to fancy parties in pretty dresses, while we’re forced to eat at Yama's and dance in a pub in the middle of the slums. We’re also forced to do this in secret because if the Captain or the King found out, we’d be fired and banished from Insomnia.Immigrants Glaives aren’t allowed to perpetuate such an immoral Galahdian tradition.

You can offer to pay the entire prize for the contest if we didn’t win it… But I’m still here, with nothing left but my Galahdian pride to say 'no, I don't want your money.’ Long story short, I really am nothing compared to you — or to some Insomnian civvie— and there's no way anyone can deny it. I shouldn’t have forced you to dance with me for some stupid contest."

"First of all, you didn’t force me. Second, I’ll do my best to make things change and ... I will speak with my father and Noctis, they’ll be willing to help if they realize what's going on beyond the surface!" she replied, her cheeks burning because of the conviction of her words. Everything in her shined so truly; the passion and the honesty were gasoline for her courageous soul. Nyx looked at her, just amazed by how naive yet beautiful she really was.

“I've never known someone like you,” he admitted. "You look at the world like you can change it and make it a better place."

"As you said, I’m the Princess of Lucis. I must believe the world can change."

"It takes a lot of guts to do it,” he replied. ”You're brave. It looks like you're not scared of anything."

"I am scared of everything! I am scared of failure, I am scared of what I could do, of what I did and, and ..." Her entire body trembled in anticipation because of the adrenaline running through her veins, while her voice cracked before gaining the courage to speak what she was really thinking, her guilty admission, "Most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling for the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you!"

After such a scream, the silence fell like iron between them. The tv buzzed in the background.

Echoing inside his chest like a torment, fear was the first feeling Nyx was able to sense once his rationality came back. He knew he was screwed. If Lunafreya was really confessing her true sentiments and not only joking around, he was so screwed. There was no way a Princess could feel that way for a Glaive, not in this world nor in another. He shouldn't have allowed it. Yet he stood still, watching her, enchanted by her perfect face, by the sound of those surreal words echoing in his ears.

Luna swallowed and waited for his reaction, understanding clearly to what she was exposing herself with such an admission. A refusal would have killed her at that point, but it was too late to take back what she had confessed and all that remained for her to do was wait. Her heart started to beat so fast she could barely avoid to have a heart attack.

In that very moment, the music program on the tv announced the start of a new video and the first notes where introduced. Like the record wanted, the song was a Galahdian one, yet with a slower rhythm. It was like someone took the tribal song they used to dance and deleted the hysterical drums from it, replacing them with a softer tambour. This was a sweet song, a ballad. The singer started to voice out how much she missed her distant lover.

Luna shyly gazed at Nyx, noticing how uneasy the whole situation made him feel. The same was for her too actually, so she chose to ease the burden and alleviate the drama in the only way they both knew.

"Dance with me,” she whispered, as she slowly stepped ahead, reaching for his hand.

Nyx gulped and looked surprised. "Here?" Luna tried to smile as she raised his hand to her lips, kissing his fingers with an alluring tenderness.

"Here."

Her blues were glowing at the soft light of the room, being the perfect diamonds against her ivory skin. Such a pureness belonged to goddesses, to fairies and to sirens, not humans. Maybe she really was one of those and Nyx couldn't help but to fall under her spell. He felt every single fiber in his body reclaiming the chance of touching her like he had so many times already, but slightly differently now.

So he reached for her lower back, pushing her against him, giving in to his basic instinct.

Luna kept lifting her chin, so that their lips were extremely close. His masculine smell and her fruity one mixed, creating a new sensational scent. Theirs.

Luna let her finger wander from his wrists to his shoulder, slowly, delicately, leaving a shiver behind. Then she started to follow the rhythm, closing her eyes and letting him taking the lead, as always.

Her moving hips turned Nyx on like they never had before. He immediately rested his fingers on them, not able to stop the rush he felt in his veins. Swallowing hard, he understood he wouldn't be able to resist much longer. He wanted her so badly. He leaned down, sinking the nose in her hair, pressing the lips on her neck. Luna held on to his shoulders instead and kept dancing, letting her entire back fall backward, while Nyx kissed her collarbone then the space between her breasts under the sweater. It was the first time he did it and it felt like paradise. She fitted him so perfectly, their bodies were like two pieces of a puzzle, entwining into each other.

"Princess ..." he whispered in her ear as she came back to him again, but she didn't listen to his plea. She just abandoned his arms for a short time to turn around his body, moving slowly, touching the muscles on his back, feeling them tend nervously under the t-shirt. She finally acknowledged the power she had on him: she had a Glaive on his knees and he would have done everything for her now. He wasn't the one taking the lead anymore: It was her. The discovery lit her senses and gave her strength, so she moved until she could face him again.

They weren’t even dancing anymore. They were just getting lost in each other.

"I want you, Nyx,” she whispered when their foreheads touched. He sighed deeply, trying to find some self control again.

"You ... would regret it."

"No."

“Yes," he admitted. In spite of his words, he decided to pull her close again, lifting her knee and putting it around his hip. After a month of training, that position should have felt familiar for both of them — and in a way it was — but it became more than just that. They were desperately glued to each other, seeking a way to touch their bodies without crossing the line. It was like playing with fire in the vain attempt to not get burned.

Luna stretched until he forced him to kiss her neck again and encouraged him by sinking her fingers in his hair, greedily touching his jaw. It was safe to say she was all but climbing on him by now.

"I won't leave if I don't get your kiss." Nyx bit delicately the soft skin on her throat, causing her to moan, and opened his way to her lips. There he stopped, blinded by the desire.

"You'd be lucky if you'll leave with only that,” he murmured. And he kissed her soft lips, breathing her in.

----------

Luna kept looking at the clock, impatient.

When someone finally knocked, Luna immediately jumped up and gave the permission of coming in. Exactly like she expected, her favorite Glaive entered, greeting her with a military salute and a half smirk.

In the morning daylight, Nyx had a different look. He was a man of the night, made to appear breathtaking and wild in the shadows, but when the sun came up, his skin got pale and somehow less magical, yet more genuine and human. Luna couldn't help but recognize that both versions made her heartbeat increase.

"Hi ..." she whispered, looking like an idiot in the center of her royal and huge white room.

Nyx wasn't in better condition, but at least he managed to put together more than just one syllable. "Good morning, your Highness."

They both silenced for a minute, trying to face the fact that everything changed between them in the strangest way. The feeling they were victims to was something new and exciting, surely forbidden and inappropriate, but at least they stopped denying its existence. They needed to talk about it, to understand how to handle it, but not now. Now they just wanted to get lost in it without any obstacle and enjoy the sense of momentary freedom.

"I, uhm, should escort you to your first morning meeting."

"You don't say,” Luna commented, wondering who did he pay to be in charge of her security that morning.

Nyx smirked. "Pelna is waiting outside,” he specified, to make clear that they wouldn't be alone.

"Let's go then."

“Princess, yesterday—”

"Nyx. Let’s go” she said, cutting him off with a gentle and lovely smile.

Nyx sighed, starry eyes glued to her angelic face, wondering how he ended up in such a mess. He wouldn’t come out of it undamaged, and neither would she. Luna reassured him by passing next to him and delicately touching his fingers with a shy smile. She looked so innocent and naive that Nyx could hardly believe she was the same person that the night before seduced him into a relationship that would no doubt be the end of him.

When they left the Princess' room, they found Pelna in the elegant corridors made of black and white marble, a bizarre picture frame for Galahdian people like them.

"Princess." He bowed.

"How's Crowe?" Luna asked him as they walked, causing a violent blush to darken his cheeks.

"Why are you asking me, Your Highness?" Pelna got fluttered at the only mention of the brunette.

"Because I figured you wouldn't have lost her,” Luna casually answered, deciding to let the conversation go as she noticed the embarrassment on the Glaive's face. “Never mind. What’s the Kingsglaive’s schedule for next week? Other than the treaty ceremony on the rooftop of my father’s hotels, of course.” That event began to be organized as soon as Nifelheim decided to agree with Lucis’ attempts of peace and King Regis was very worried about it. He asked to Lunafreya — his only precious and wise daughter — to take care of invitations and entertainment. The security part was under Ravus’ control, so Luna still didn’t know how many Crownsguard and Glaives would be present.

“Captain Drautos and Prince Ravus are still arranging the details, but I guess we’ll be arrayed near the royal family.”

Luna blinked at Nyx then, finding his expression totally absorbed by her presence. She wondered if he would be present to the ceremony too, or in the case that they won, if he would have fled from Insomnia as soon as possible, leaving her behind. She didn’t want to lose him now that he was hers and suddenly hated the idea of winning the dance contest. She tried to suffocate those dark thoughts by remembering he was an amazing man who deserved to make whatever decision he wanted, yet a subtle malaise stayed there, making her fear grow in her stomach. Along with a similar dread, she felt an urge inside her bones, an urge that only he ever instigated in her, a desire which was similar to a need.

"Oh, I forgot the phone in my room!" she said as soon as they arrived downstairs to the hall.

Nyx and Pelna looked at each other, one perfectly knowing what was going on, the other completely naive and still distracted by Crowe's image in his mind.

"I'll stay with the Princess,” Nyx offered, acting his part so that Pelna didn’t notice.

"Ok, I'll go grab the phone. I’ll be right back."

In the very moment when Pelna disappeared from the hall, Nyx pulled the Princess through a smaller door in the corner, not caring if he didn't know exactly what was the place was for. Luna recognized the chamber instead: it was a standard one, used for receiving guests. It was small and it would be perfect for the next five minutes.

They barely looked around to check if they really were alone before finally smashing their lips together, half laughing and half seeking a way to alleviate the stress of being parted. Luna put the arms around his neck, stood on the tip toes and arched her back to welcome the passion of his kiss. The fear of seeing him leaving from Insomnia was momentarily shelved to make space to a more beautiful kind of fear: the one of letting herself go.

"So now we're this,” Nyx commented, barely able to breathe with her lips on his. “I shouldn’t have let you drag me into this.”

“You really want to use your breath to complain?” she smiled, distancing herself and looking at him in the eye. Nyx’s expression sweetened.

“I wasn’t complaining, sorry for giving you the wrong impression.” He smiled, caressing her cheek and kissing her slowly this time. His entire face was the portrait of bliss. “Still, I shouldn’t have let you drag me into this. I shouldn’t have accepted your offer to take Crowe’s place and I shouldn’t have fallen at your feet so damn easily.”

Luna welcomed his tenderness and moments of truth but immediately tried to begin the kissing again. She moved his hands from her waist to her legs, indicating where she wanted to be touched. Nyx didn't oppose and just lifted her body up, pushing her against the wall and kissing her mouth and chin. "Pelna is good in finding things. He’ll be back in a minute with your phone."

“He can't find things that are just not there,” Luna moaned, as he moved his lips to her neck. "I never had a phone."

Nyx's smile enlarged. "Ok, this means we have at least three minutes?" Luna sank her fingers into his hair and adjusted herself so she could kiss the Glaive back. If she didn't know the shape of his body perfectly after one month of hard training, she wouldn’t have been able to stay balanced in such a complicated position. She snuck her little hand underneath his jacket, touching the muscle of his chest, his neck, his shoulders, while she used the other hand to hold on.

"Nyx ..." Her whisper was so delicious when it reached his ear. Nyx couldn't help but taste her more with his tongue. "Will we continue this later?"

"Later when?" Nyx's mind was so blurry by the fire burning inside him he couldn't remember.

"At our usual training session,” Luna snorted in a laugh. It took awhile to the Glaive to remember.

"No, later we really gotta work hard. And this ..." His eyes in hers were melted silver. "This is a distraction."

"It is,” Luna agreed.

"We have the finale tomorrow. We gotta focus on priorities. No time for romance."

For someone who always forced himself into hard training and concealed emotions, he infringed on his own rules pretty often. This time would have been the same story all over again.

Out of a sudden, a voice called out for them from the main room.

"Damn, Pelna’s back already." Nyx put Luna down again and she reluctantly adjusted the skirt he lifted. "You're so beautiful,” he commented then, looking at her like she was the eighth marvel of the world and adjusting a braid on her forehead. The compliment made Luna's eyes glow.

"Let me talk with Pelna; he won't suspect anything."

Nyx knew from experience how good she was in enchanting people and to bend them to her will, so he didn't protest. He just followed her out of the small room, certain than Pelna wouldn’t know.

What neither of them noticed was another small door in a corner, a door involuntarily left half open. Tredd Furia stepped ahead, biting his lip to hide a mischievous smirk which seemed to promise the wittiest evil.

---------

Like it was easy to foresee, keeping to the training like nothing happened became pretty impossible. Now that they discovered the flavor of each other's lips, dancing so close without kissing each other was ridiculously complicated, especially since they were alone in the entire theater.

In spite of this, they managed at least to refresh the moves and try the choreography a couple of times.

And more important than anything, they accurately avoided to talk about the future. Neither of them were ready for such a conversation now. They kept saying to each other that focusing on the contest was all that mattered and so they did. Winning was the priority. However, as Nyx watched the Princess putting her shoes on after training, he understood he already won something way better than a dance competition's prize: he had those moments with her, unrepeatable moments where she really seemed to care and yearn for him. It didn't matter if it was just a lie, it didn't matter if it would be over soon. They were together now. Luna caught him staring and smiled back.

Nyx took her by the hand, pulling her out of the theater where they trained over the past several weeks. They decided to leave a bit earlier that night so they would have the time to get some rest before the finale.

When they entered in the car, anyway, Nyx's ear device started to ring and he answered. "Crowe? What's happening?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I was training."

"Is the Princess with you?" Nyx didn't like her tone.

"Yeah, but what's wrong?"

“King Regis met with Captain Drautos. And it looks like you’re the topic of the conversation.”

Nyx wide opened his eyes and then slowly turned towards Luna, looking at her like his dreams — and his entire life — were instantly crushed in front of him for the second time, while he helplessly fell at its feet.

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Never in my Wildest Dreams

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: he’s famous, you’re a regular girl, chance meeting, cute interest, right place right time, surprise, tour, road crew, unexpected love, backstage, job loss, new opportunities

Warnings: Not much to warn against! Possibly a kissing scene, but haven’t written it in yet

Parts so far: 3

Synopsis: Life has dragged along until this moment. You finally have your dream job working backstage for a big time stadium! The day has finally come to begin your dream career and you’re over the moon. But. What happens when you loose your cool on the first day of work when you find out your favorite K-Pop band is performing? Sadly, not all dreams last. But remember, when one door closes another opens. And it may bring love along with it.

**While I’ve read fanfic before, this is my first time writing one myself! This idea has been playing around in my head for a while and I finally sat down to put it together. Hope it’s enjoyable 😊

Never in my Wildest Dreams Part 1:

**tick..tock..tick..took..tick..tock**

You glance at the clock for the millionth time only to realize that a meager minute has passed by. It’s been a slow day, as most are, in Martin & Martini- the small and rustic coffee shop along Mainstreet that employs you. While your coworkers are kind and the pay is steady, it’s not what wakes you up in the morning excited for a new day. But it does pay the bills and keep you off the street, so it’s serving it’s purpose for the time being.

Today is the first day of a new job. After years of volunteering backstage for non profit theaters and struggling to make ends meet, you’ve finally found a spot as a stagehand at a major stadium in downtown Dallas. The past few weeks have only made you more excited as you completed basic lighting, rigging, and stage setup training. Now you’re on the schedule as a regular employee and even get to help with pre-show checks!

The excitement is palpable to your roomate Jaclyn as you rush into your two bedroom apartment to get ready for your shift.

“Hey y/n! How’s it goi-“

“Hey Jaclyn!! Sorry, in a rush! It’s my first day at the stadium and I want to be extra early!”

“Awh, you’re going to love it so much and do so well.” She encourages as she follows you to your bedroom.

“I hope so J! I’m nervous but so excited! This is all I could have imagined.” You respond to her. The weight of your words make you stop for a second and think. This is truly all you’ve ever wanted. You can’t believe you finally made it.

“So whose performing tonight, anyway?” J says, bringing you back to the present moment.

“Oh, I haven’t even looked! It must be a major concert since most of the staff is scheduled. Probably a rock concert, I’ve heard those are really common at the stadium.”

You reflect for a split second on not knowing who is performing. ‘Find out who it is next time y/n. A good employee would know that.’ You whisper in your head, tough on yourself as ever. This isn’t a job that you can let slip through the cracks.

J leaves you with one last congrats and word of encouragement before letting you finish getting ready. You change into the black crew shirt and your favorite skinny jeans. Finishing off the look with converse and some perfume, you head into the kitchen for a quick snack. One glance at the clock says you need to be on the road ASAP if you want to get there early. Opting for a granola bar and a bag of grapes, you yell “bye!” to J before zooming out the door.

The drive to the stadium takes less time than you expected because your foot is slammed on the gas. You head inside early, take a quick stop at the bathroom, and then clock in at 5pm as instructed in orientation. By 5:15 you’ve met with the stage manager and found out your tasks for the night. You’ll be helping with instrument setup and chord rigging for the majority of the evening. Although it’s not the funnest thing to do backstage, it is a great opportunity to learn.

You head up to stage level to get started on your part of stage setup. You find some chords that need to be tapped down and get to work on those, making a mental list of different things to check after finishing with the tapping.

You stick your last piece down to the floor when you hear someone holler “hey, you!” in a slightly Korean accent.

“Um, hi?” You reply to the man staring your way. “Can I help you find something?”

“I need some help with the microphones!” He explains while gesturing for you to follow.

“Ahh, okay. I can definitely help with that.” You reply, relieved that you aren’t in trouble. You follow the man deeper into back stage where the band is supposed to be warming up. You’re a little nervous being back here, it feels like this might be a higher ups job. But you push the feeling away and trust your skills with mic setup. ‘You know how to do this, it’s fine.’ you repeat in your head, trying to calm yourself.

Too bad that calm is the last thing you feel when you realize the situation you’ve put yourself in.

The man stops you in front of seven very familiar looking boys. They are all turned your way but pay no attention to your arrival. They instead are pulling their earpieces in weird twists trying to position them correctly. You know you need to move forward to help but can’t convince yourself to do so. You know these boys. You’ve listened to their top hit song DNA millions of times. You saw them when the were on Ellen and then with James Gordon in carpool karaoke. You downloaded V-Live for crying out loud just to watch their chats.

This is BTS.

End of Part 1

Part 2:

“Um, hi, are you here to help?” the boy on the right asks you kindly, disrupting your thoughts. ‘That’s RM. Wow, he’s very tall’ you think to yourself.

“Um.... I think so” You reply dazed

One of the boys on the left chuckles and says in his best English “Well, can do me first?” You’re eyes flash to him and see a mess of chord around his neck.

“Yes, yes I can.” You reply, not completely sure if you’re up for the challenge but walking forward anyway. ‘This is V’ you think to yourself. You like V a lot. His fun and sweet personality from videos you’d watched was always attractive to you. He was easily your favorite member. That didn’t make the current situation any easier.

You approached V, keeping your eyes pinned on the mess of chord around his neck. You could do this, just remain calm and stay focused. You weren’t sure how to instruct him considering the language barrier, but luckily, it seemed all the boys had improved on their English speaking and V could generally hold the conversation with you. He explained that the chord was snagged on the back of his shirt and got strained when he tried to take it off. You walked around to his back and untangled the chord from the tag where it was caught. You then walked around and detached the mic from the cable to loosen it easier. He gave you a funny but exasperated face that read ‘was it really that easy!’ And you couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“I’m happy to help, don’t worry” you breathed in the midst of laughter. You lifted your face to his and immediately stopped breathing. He is staring intently into your eyes with the slightest lift of the left corner of his lip upward revealing a shy smile. The moment must have passed within a few seconds but seemed much longer. It was broken with the approach of the youngest member, JK, who also was is desperate need of detangling. You went from him to Jin, then to JM, and finally RM. Suga and J-Hope hadn’t ended up in the same catastrophes as the other members so you passed over them with just a smile. You looked back over everyone once finished to make sure all connections were perfect. Everyone gave you a thumbs up and a quick “thank you” before scurrying off to the stage for sound check. V was the last to leave the room and took a moment to glance back at you with a small smile playing on his face. You smiled back and lifted a hand to wave before he shifted attention back to his work.

As soon as he was out of sight, you took a deep breath and pulled yourself back together. ‘Work y/n, it’s time to work. Process later.’ You said sternly in your head. You had a whole checklist of things to finish before showtime. So you went on to side stage to complete your tasks. The image of V was playing in your mind but you tried your best to push it back so you could stay focused. After checking lighting, making sure sound board connections were secure, and searching all the rooms for the stage managers clipboard, it was time for the show to start. This was the easy part of the night. You were assigned to side stage for technical difficulties and assisting the sound board. You got comfortable in your chair parked next to the sound director and fixed your eyes on the small stage opening in your view. You weren’t in main sound panel located in the crowd, so this view of the show would have to do.

Within 30 minutes the show was on countdown to start. The stage lift finally reached the top and a pop of fireworks announced the opening song. You couldn’t place which boy was which from your line of sight, but you were enjoying yourself none the less. The first half of the show passed quickly and without problems. Other than helping sound with a replacement mic, you were soaking in the greatness of your new job from your chair.

The second half of the show begins and you settle in for another 2 hours of music and fun. You’re just about to ask for a restroom break when you hear screaming abrupt from the crowd. This sound is different from the constant shouts of joy you’ve heard up until this point. You jump out of your seat and walk to the stage curtain to get a better view. All you can see is a huddle formed in center stage consisting of BTS members and stage crew. The crew members are struggling with something in the center of the circle, but it’s out of your line of vision.

A few moments pass when the crew finally has a strong grip on the item in the center. Finally You get a clear image on what the staff is carrying. It’s not an item, but one of the boys. The others rush off stage with him and you catch the reflection of V’s hat in the group. You breath a sigh of relief you didn’t realize was building, but still feel worry for the member who was carried off. The show is put on hold and tour called back to your seat at the sound board so you’re not in the way. 20 minutes of worrying and stress pass when finally the boys walk back on stage. One boy is missing but you can’t put my finger on who. RM steps up, mic in hand, and takes a deep breath. He then explains says to the crowd

“Thank you for being patient, Army! We love you all and appreciate your patience. Sadly, our sweet Jim had a small accident on stage and it looks like he may have sprained an ankle. He is being checked by doctors now and will hopefully join us back on stage later. We are going to continue the show now and appreciate your understanding.”

He finished off with a heart and kiss to the audience then signals all the other boys to get in formation for the next song. You’re immediately at the soundboard waiting for the next instruction, ready to do your part to help the show continue. The show picks up again and passes very quickly. Jin doesn’t return back to the stage but the boys update the audience that it was a slight sprain and that he would be fine. By the end of the concert you feel more drained than ecstatic, your enthusiasm worn off. You’re stressed for the boys and weary of the stage cleanup to come now that the show is over.

As if on cue, your name is called over the walkie talkies everyone carries. The stage manager has requested you to meet him at left stage, so you head that direction to receive instruction. As soon as you make eye contact, you immediately feel uneasy. His posture, facial expression, and stance all indicate that something is wrong.

“Hi Mr. Montey, what would you like me to do?” You ask quickly.

“Y/n, I have to ask you a question” he states

“Yes sir?”

“Were you in charge of tapping on stage?”

“Um, yes sir.”

He takes a moment to sigh and then continues with “Y/n, the member who was injured today fell because of a loose chord. A chord you were supposed to tape down.”

Your stomach drops and you immediately feel tears well up in your eyes. “Mr. Montey, I’m so sorry.” you reply. “I was asked to help with microphones and didn’t think about it, I...”

He waves his hand up in the air signaling for you to stop speaking. You do and he glances at the ground for a moment. When he makes eye contact with you again he looks defeated. “y/n I’m sorry, but this is unacceptable. This was a major performance for us and you had a simple checklist to complete. Even with the distraction you faced, these things should have been done. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

You felt this coming from the moment you locked eyes with Mr. Montey. But the sting of his last words in the air burned through you entirely. Your dream had been found and lost in one night over a simple mistake. You needed to cry and you knew it would happen soon. So you offered another meager apology and said you understood his decision.

After that you turned around and sought out the nearest exit. The tears were starting to flow and you had to rush out the side door in order to keep your embarrassment at bay. The second you were outside breathing air, you fell to the ground in sobs. You felt too exposed in open light so you crawled to some shade under an awning by the door. Not a full minute had passed when the door opened again. Of all the people in the world who would have come out of it, of course it would happen to be V.

He had changed from his costume to some shorts and an oversized black t-shirt. He had some water in his hand and seemed to be enjoying the fresh air. You tried to calm your breathing, wanting to go unnoticed, but he quickly spotted you as he checked his surroundings.

“Oh, it’s you” He said in surprise

“Yeah, me.” You responded. You couldn’t hide the disappointment you had for yourself from your voice

“Everything okay?” He responded, realizing that you had tears in your eyes

“I’m good. Sorry to interrupt you, I should go” you say in between wiping your nose with the back of your hand

“You can stay, you should” he offered, coming to sit beside me “I’ll stay too, we will sit”

And so you both did. You cried and he sat peacefully with you for at least 20 minutes. At the end of the 20 minutes, he asked why you were crying. Knowing you wouldn’t see him ever again, you decided to be honest.

“Yeah, I just lost my job. My dream job. I was the reason your member got injured, I didn’t tape the chord down enough. I got sidetracked helping with your mics and didn’t even think about it. I’m so sorry.” You plead, wiping tears from your face.

He takes a minute to process and think through what you said. He then replies “Jimin is okay, you know? It’s not your fault. He walked too far back in the song, that is not because of your tape.”

You appreciate his comfort and allow it to help a little. But it still hurts to be out of your job. You respond “thank you, that’s kind of you to say. I just.. worked so hard for this job and I can’t believe I messed it up. All I’ve ever wanted is to help back stage...” The tears had stopped flowing at this point and were more like droplets. You had begun to bring your hand up to your cheek to wipe one when you suddenly find yourself locking eyes with Tae. He has his right arm extended to your cheek, attempting to wipe the tear himself.

He explains to you “I’m sad to see you cry. Sorry you have to hurt. I wish I could help more.”

In which you slightly smile and respond “sitting with me and helping me breath again was the best thing you could’ve done.”

“The bus will be packing up now, I must go.” He says sadly

“Of course” you respond standing up with him. “Your show was wonderful and thank you again for being here with me” you say as a farewell.

He nods, and with a small smile on his lips, says “yeah, maybe I’ll have the opportunity to sit with you again sometime soon.”

He heads through the door with one last wave goodbye in your direction. You wave back and then head in the opposite direction toward the front of the stadium. His last words left you confused but you’re too drained to think about them. All you want is your bed and a new day.

After collecting your personal items from the front desk, you leave the stadium for the first and last time. ‘Such a shame.’ You repeat to yourself over and over. You feel defeated and completely distraught.

“Maybe it’s time to give up my stage crew dreams” you whisper to yourself as you shuffle to the car.

And maybe with another few weeks or months you would have. But that wasn’t your story.

End of Part 2

Part 3

A slight knock on your bedroom door draws you back to reality. You glance at the small alarm clock on your wooden bedside table which reads 6:00 PM. You’ve spent the entire day laying in bed after calling the coffee shop this morning and saying you wouldn’t make it to work today. The hollow feeling in your chest was just too strong for you carry out into the world.

Jaclyn peaks her head in the door without receiving a response from you. You had mentioned losing the job last night when you passed her in the kitchen after coming home. A kind “I’m here when you need me..” was all you heard before closing the door to your room and lying down completely dressed to sleep.

She pushes her way through the door after seeing that you’re awake. She’s carrying a dinner tray which holds a white bowl and a glass of water. She walks to the bed and sits beside you, setting the tray on the floor.

“Y/n... I brought you some soup okay? It’s your favorite, from the bakery on Hopkins Street..”

You nod as an acknowledgement to her words, but make no attempt to reach for it.

“I know you’re hurting, I’m so sorry.” she explains, simultaneously rubbing your leg in a comforting manner. “But let me tell you something. It will be okay. You will be okay. Maybe not right now, but more opportunity is out there.” She says sternly.

Jaclyn had always encouraged your dreams and stood by you as you struggled to make it. She knew your journey more than anyone. Hearing her encouragement didn’t take the pain away, but it did help you understand. You may have given up on your dream, but you couldn’t let this be your life. Sulking would get you nowhere.

Struggling to release your feet from the blanket, you finally get into a sitting position against the headboard of your bed.

“I guess I’ll have some soup” you mumble to your roomate.

She smiles sweetly at you and reaches for the tray to lay in your lap. Although you aren’t hungry at all, you take a few bites and finish with a few gulps of water. Jaclyn takes the tray from you as soon as you push it away.

“I can watch a movie with you if you want? Maybe something scary??” she enthusiastically asks.

“Thanks J, but I want to get some more sleep.”

“Are you sure?” She comments. Concern clearly marking her voice.

“It’s okay, really. I’m gonna go in for my shift at the coffee shop tomorrow, don’t worry.”

You’re interest in work seems to put her at ease, if only a little bit. She nods her head and whispers a quick “I’m right outside” before leaving your bedroom with the tray in her hands.

You decide it’s time to get out of bed and head for the bathroom to wash up. An hour later you’ve taken your bath, put on fresh pajamas, and pulled out your clothes for work. You grab some water from the kitchen, passing a smiling Jaclyn on your way back to your room. You lay back down and surprisingly fall into a deep sleep very quickly.

The coffee shop is busy when you arrive in the morning at 7 AM. You quickly tie your apron and jump into the chaos. Before you realize it’s already 12:00 in the afternoon and time for your break. You put your apron on the hook and grab your bag, headed for the sandwich shop down the street. After placing your order and finding a seat you reach for you phone only to realize you have two missed calls from an unknown number. ‘Hmm, that’s odd’ you think you yourself. Since they called twice, you decide to try calling back, hoping it’s not a telemarketer. Someone picks up on the third ring.

“Hello” they say blandly

“Um, hi. I received a call from this number” you say timidly

“Is this y/n?” they respond

“Yes it is, may I ask who this is?” You say in confusion

“Oh, yes. We’ve been waiting for you to call back. My name is Chung-Ho, I am one of the stage managers for the BTS world tour. We recently had a position open up in our stage crew and you were recommended for the job.”

“Wait, what.” Is all you think to say after he finishes. “What are you talking about?” You ask.

“BTS’ world tour..” he explains. “We’d like to offer you a stagehand position with us for the next few months.”

Your phone slips out of your hand as you contemplate what you just heard. ‘That can’t be right y/n. You must be dreaming, no way. Get it together.’ you think to yourself. The familiar sound of your ringtone surprises you and you quickly reach for the phone off the floor.

“Hello?” you ask heavily

“Um y/n? I believe we were disconnected, this is Chung-Ho again about the stage crew position.”

“...I’m sorry Mr. Chung-Ho” you say “but I don’t understand. I didn’t ever apply for this position, I think there is a mix up.”

“No, you didn’t apply, but you came highly recommended by someone on the team. He had said that you were recently looking for work and would be a great candidate for this position. So here I am reaching out.”

Mr. Chung-Ho proceeded to explain details about the position. You truly meant to listen, but your mind was filled with Tae’s last words about “sitting with you again.” ‘He couldn’t have done this.. could he? But why? Surely he must have-‘

“So what do you think?” Mr. Chung-Ho asks

“I... I.. I would love this opportunity.” You respond, trying to keep tears from falling down your face.

“Then it’s all settled!” he replies. “You will start with us on Thursday, if that’s fine with you. We will send you an email with tour info and guidelines. More will be explained once you arrive. Reach out to me with any questions.” He states with a quick goodbye and then hangs up the phone.

You sit dazed with the phone still pushed against your ear unable to process your thoughts. Your mind drifts to your first meeting with Tae and his adorable but subtle smile. It can’t be denied at this point..

The sweetest boy with the sweetest smile just gave you your dream back.

End of Part 3

Realty Problem Solver

Introduction There are many areas one can invest in. Since i have was 15 years old I have looked for the fastest, most effective way to accumulate a lot of wealth, with the least amount of risk. Now i'm now 58. While looking for this road to facts, I spent a lot of time in the school of hard knocks. The school of hard knocks is a very interesting though painful school to attend. It is also the most expensive way to find out something, but when you graduate you have a PHD in the way to turn and not do with your time and money. The high schools I attended were: Investing in businesses as a silent mate, owning my own businesses, working for another family member-in our case my father, buying publicly traded stocks and sec, penny mining stocks, commodity trading, investing in gold and silver, real estate property private lending, real estate development, real estate remodeling, buying property foreclosure properties. I also worked as a real estate problem solver/matchmaker, bringing business owners together with business buyers, and matching " up " real estate owners with real estate buyers. Writing about all of these hobbies would take an encyclopedia, so we will minimize this essay to the kinds of situations you can run across in your real estate school of hard knocks. I will present my personal solution with the given situation. There are more than one possible treatment and I invite you to come up with other possible products as you read. If you get some value from my experience that will hopefully lower your tuition to the real estate school about hard knocks. Feel free to e-mail me your remarks, alternate solution or stories. Do, please, let me understandthat it is all right for me to publish them. My Real Estate Vision As a way of introducing myself, I thought you might find exactly what lessons I have learned, after all these years of properties, interesting. Buy real estate instead of stocks, bonds, mutual dollars, or commodities. When you pick a winner in one of these jadescape condo areas you can make 5-10 times your money. When you are erroneous, in one of these non-real estate areas, you can actually loose roughly 90% of your money. In real estate, if you are not greedy-not trying to get rich quick-in one year, you can make 100 times your hard earned dollar, on the upside. The downside risk is only based on ways well you looked at all the possibilities ahead of time. If you did, the actual downside risk is reduced to only the sustaining time to fix a mistake. If you rush in and do not experience all the possibilities of a business venture, you can actually loose 100% of this money. In my mind an upside of 100 conditions profit is better than 10 times profit. My philosophy regarding real estate ownership has changed in the last 15 years. I actually used to think that selling at the top of the market was the intelligent move and buying in the crash. Now I feel that selecting when prices are down is still a smart move and yet never selling is the way to go. In order to hold on to a property from a down market you require proper planning to survive the accident. This I call a back door or unexpected plan. This is have a plan and knowing what you will achieve if everything goes wrong with you original plan. Should you have a backup plan, you rarely need it. This is the structure of my philosophy. With this understanding, you might more appears see why I did what I did in these situations. Any Stories and article: The area of real estate investing has become the most complex because it is a combination of law and realty. It is one of the most interesting because fortunes are made and forfeited in this area, and the numbers are so enormous. Lastly it will be an area where crooks can make a lot of money and many times depart with it. Following are some stories (case histories) I had dealt with and some articles I have written on the subject of fraud within real estate. Finally, I have included an article on the basics connected with foreclosures and real estate in general, for your interest. I hope you love it them. The Stories: Story #1: It was early March 2000 and I received a call from Kevin. He said that he had heard about me from numerous mutual friends. He wanted to speculate in buying HUD houses (Properties that the Government had foreclosed on). The guy wanted to buy them, fix them up and then sell individuals at a profit. He had heard that I had bought a large number of foreclosures in the 1970's and 80's and he is hoping I could advise him. We met for lunch time and he told me his life story. The important area of this conversation is that he had bought a boarded up 14 unit apartment building in downtown San Bernardino, across the street, from one of the roughest high schools around California. By the end of the meeting, I had figured out that she had overpaid about $75, 000 for the building, he'd already wasted $200, 000 trying to remodel it, also it was still $100, 000 away from being finished. He previously bought it 1 . 5 years ago and a large part of his particular costs was the interest on all his loans, regarding this project. He was now broke, and inside deep trouble, but in his mind, the badly important money was coming. It is interesting to note where she got the money to invest in this project. 4 years early on he was given money to buy an apartment building by his / her father. He was given enough money that he only expected a very small $150, 000 real estate loan to purchase a fabulous building in Pasadena that cost him a total for $525, 000. In order to buy the San Bernardino rehab venture, he first refinanced the first trust deed on the Pasadena building and jumped the loan balance to $385, 000. When that money was gone he took $74, 000 as a second Trust Deed on both Pasadena and San Bernardino properties. By the way, that payday loan cost him 15% interest and $15, 000 for up front fees to get the money. Before we parted, Document told him that he made a very expense mistake during buying San Bernardino. I explained that from the evening he bought the building it was a sure decision that the project would fail. I then had to tell him which would not lend him any money on San Bernardino, to store his butt. Over the next 2 months I got periodic phone calls, telling me the progress of the fill raising. One of those updates I was told that the pre-existing 2nd Trust Deed lender was saying that he will probably give Kevin the added $100, 000 he should finish the project. At the same time, Kevin also believed he found a bank that might refinance all the loans in San Bernardino. The difficulty with the bank loan was that the value determination fee was $3, 000, and it had to be paid prior to, even to just apply for the loan. Again Kevin asked me for money. Again I refused to put further good money down his black hole. Then one morning I got a call from Kevin, "If I won't make the $2, 000 payment to the 2nd faith deed holder, he will start foreclosure in 2 months. Kevin also told me "The 2nd trust deed mortgage lender said that he would buy the Pasadena apartment building pertaining to what I had paid for it, 4 years ago, $525, 000. " The offer had a stipulation to it. Kevin had to bring the loan current first. In my thought process, if Kevin could bring the loan current, the reason would he even bother to sell the property for a from suppliers price? I couldn't believe what I was researching. After hearing all of this I decide that it is time That i stop saying no and help. What Kevin believed he wanted was a real estate loan for a lot of finances. The truth is, that money was not the solution to his dilemma. The problem had to be different than what Kevin believed, which is why the situation persisted. The real situation was not more borrowing. More accepting meant more money down the drain. Experience has coached me, "If the problem was what Kevin thought it had been, it wouldn't be a problem. " What does the phrase mean? A businessman has a financial set back. She thinks that with some short term funding he can live through the set back and return to the top. After looking around, the businessman will usually find the money, but strangely enough the drawback doesn't resolve. If the problem did correct itself, then businessman was right about what the problem was, and the predicament would be gone. Usually the money doesn't help, but the entrepreneur doesn't understand that. He doesn't realize that the problem wasn't money in the first place. If it were, the problem would at this time be gone. Lets continue the explanation. The last money coppied is now gone and the problem persists, so our n entrepreneur goes out to find more money to solve the problem that didn't fix with the money he borrowed, the first time. What happens the second occasion? The same thing. The money is used up and still the problem continues. The businessman is working on the wrong problem. The problem is not dollars, or the problem would have been gone. Kevin thought this challenge was money. It wasn't. He had already poured $300, 000 into the San Bernardino building, on top of the $209, 000 1st Trust Deed loan that came about while he bought the building. Before he was completed, he spent over $500, 000 in a building that has to have $100, 000 to finish, but was only worth $475, 000, after it was finished. What could I do? Utilize what the good lord gave me. 30 years regarding experience, on the subject of getting out of problems that I created when I appeared to be young and inexperienced. Here was the war prepare. I got Kevin to agree to turn over total management belonging to the two properties to me. Knowing that I was managing the house and working on what I believed was the correct condition, I felt comfortable about loaning money on this put up. If I can't trust myself to solve this problem, whom do i trust? I started by loaning Kevin $25, 000 to make needed repairs to the Pasadena building, pay the home and property taxes and to bring the first and second loans latest on the Pasadena property only. Nothing was to be expended at this time, on the San Bernardino building. Now that I operated the Pasadena apartment building, I discovered what repairs any building needed. The list was so long it had one man three months, full time, to fully handle it. I then did a very detailed market study and determined the things the market would pay in rents. I asked the particular tenants for a list of everything they wanted done of their apartments to be happy. I then did everything the tenants requested and I then raised their rents 30%. Following the building was full, I raised the rents a second 15%. The value of the building went up and I just received an offer for $725, 000. This was $200, 000 more than its value 6 months earlier. I use it into escrow, and then I realized that I could improve the rents some more. I raised the rents again throughout escrow and forced the buyer to pay another $25, 000 for the building. Bringing the price to $750, 000. Who $225, 000 profit was needed to help cover the income being lost in San Bernardino. Author's Note: The particular escrow fell through and the building was kept until finally this update, December 5, 2004. The building will now be in escrow for $1, 583, 000 What had I do about San Bernardino? I contacted the seller/lender and asked him if he would like me to make sure you pull the security guard out of the building and help him have it back in foreclosure. He didn't want it to come back, even though he pretended that he was willing to do that. The person offered me $25, 000 in incentives to get others to personally lend the money necessary for the completion from the building, so he wouldn't have to take it back. Just for 3 months he tried to get me to put money towards the building, with the idea that once I put my profit I wouldn't walk away from it. The real story was that wouldn't put a dime into that black target until I figured out how to make it recover at least $100, 000 of Kevin's lost money. I asked for an important $70, 000 discount on the note, and offered to spend him off. We negotiated for two months. Just whenever i was ready to finish the deal, the seller sold his pay attention to to someone else for only a $30, 000 discount. My spouse and i was not able to make the money I wanted because now the newest note holder wanted 100% of interest and most important due. This threw a monkey wrench into great negotiating. All this time, I had a buyer standing from the wings to buy the building from Kevin while When i was negotiating. I was then forced to sell the house and property to this buyer and Kevin recovered only a little bit of his or her investment. The lender and I were both playing an excellent stakes poker game. I lost this round. Only could have gotten the payoff reduced, Kevin would been given a large hunk of money from an "as is" sale. This is what I call playing "Craps" on a highly big Monopoly board. Author's Note: The buyer, thinking the person was going to put $125, 000 to finish the remodeling, alerted me, after one year, that he had spent $300, 000 to finish the building. The apartment building values happen to be increasing rapidly during this time period, so Kevin's project was first increasing in value at the same time the buyer was going more deeply and deeper into construction costs. The buyer made through all right in the end. If the market had died, he would experience lost $200, 000 on this building after Kevin received already lost a fortune. It's all about timing, isn't the software? Kevin learned that money alone was not the answer to the problems; he needed a Genie, to turn his chicken into a swan. Story #2 Janet is the daughter of merely one of my oldest and wealthiest friends and individuals. We have been doing real estate deals together since 1975. Janet and her husband started buying distressed real estate through Phoenix Arizona in 1994, which was 8 years ago once it was the thing to do. It was now Dec 2000. Market trends appears to be slowing down and did after September 11, 2001. Janet had been continually borrowing money from her papa, whenever things got too difficult. She later advertised everything in Phoenix and bought property in N . California. Then in 1999, one year before I seemed to be brought in, she started buying real estate in Kansas Place. One day Janet's father called me and asked for my best help. He had loaned his daughter $200, 000 plus felt that everything she owned was upside down. (Loans more than the market value. ). This was further complicated by your fact that if she sold her properties, to pay off the father, the capital gains taxes would eat up any hard cash, from the sale. On top of all this, Janet kept asking for a higher cost to keep up the payments on the properties that had damaging cash flow and didn't have enough rental income. He retained me to help his daughter and agreed to pay the fee. I would work with this 40 years old kid, so you can get her to return her fathers $200, 000 and produce herself totally debt free. Janet and I realized. She was brilliant. She did know what she was initially doing, as far as picking good real estate deals. She had, at the time of our meeting, 10 properties located in 2 unique states, and there was $500, 000 in equity. Should we could get it out, before her father had the stroke things would be great. Janet agreed to the understanding, happily, if I would be her adviser, not his. The father agreed to fund whatever money was requested provided that I approved it. Also I had to be the one for you to ask Janet's father for the money, since the upset between the farther and daughter was getting unbearable. This is what we does. A list of needed repairs was created for each of the 11 components. Bids were received and the work ordered to be completed within 30 days. This was not to take months. It needed to be done immediately so we could go to step two. Step 2 was basically to put on the market all of the expensive Northern California property. For you to my disbelief, Janet wanted to move her family, towards a new city, in the middle of all this and her father endorsed let her do it. She had found an old rundown house that she felt was undervalued. That designed that her old residence was put into the list of properties to sell. Sell is what we planned to do. Every little thing was to be put on the market, and sold at the finest price to be gotten, but sold regardless. The property on Kansas was to be repaired and fully rented. Typically the properties that could be sold at what we thought was 100 % retail, were also put on the market. The plan was that whenever everything was sold, the father would get paid off; typically the loans on the remaining properties would be paid off and the harmony of the cash would be put into the bank. Since all of the Kansas deals appear to be a good investment, Janet could now continue to keep buy more Kansas property, (she had only long been spending $25, 000 on each deal) but for most of cash. The rents coming in would generate enough source of income for her family to live on without having to ask for money as a result of dad or touching her investment nest egg. That has been the plan. I forgot one last thing. Because many of the real estate had been bought years ago on a 1031 exchanges (tax-free exchange), the capital gain tax was going to eat up the cash proceeds. Which was one of the traps Janet fell into. She felt the woman couldn't sell without buying a replacement. Of course by not even liquidating before starting anew, she would never get out of debt through her real estate lenders or her father. The solution, in this problem was simpler than one would think. First, the daddy did a 1031 exchange with Janet for one of your big profit houses. The father sold Janet his particular residences for no money down. Now Janet hired her father the house he lives in. So much just for capital gains tax on the $150, 000 profit because one big sale. The second big profit was in the place Janet currently lived in. That was tax-free under the present laws. Since the other houses sold had smaller profit margins, it was decided that the business decision to get out of arrears was more important than avoiding paying any taxation's. Author's Note: That was the plan. So what happened? Janet made a decision she didn't want to sell the junk in Kansas and fired me. She refused to pay her dad back and as of December 2004 he had not personally seen a dime. Father has deducted what she owes him from her inheritance, which will be put into a put your trust in administered by her brother for the benefit of the grandchildren. Real estate in California skyrocketed after 9/11/01 terrorist episode and her properties all doubled in value. In summary: Everyone thinks that his or her problem is not confrontable therefore unsolvable. I have found that someone other than myself can resolve my un-confrontable problems in 10 min and I could do the same for them. It is not a question of being smart, or more experienced, though experience helps a lot when discovering easy solutions, quickly. It is really that we all are willing to confront someone else's problems much easier than our own. When we are willing to are up against our own problem head-on, solutions begin to appear miraculously. The things I do is help people take their mountains as well as turn them into molehills. The molehills are therefore flattened with ease. Lessons to learn: First, do not think you may be smarter than the people who passed this way before you; you're not. Subsequently, markets never go up forever, have not performed as if the can. Third, if you are not prepared for the worst, it will destroy you. If you are prepared, it will only hurt a little. You are likely to survive and come away much richer in the end.