while i was on the phone with my ex, a lot of what she told me re-confirmed the fact that i'm a damn fucking good partner and lover. Like, i'll absolutely let myself have that, especially when i reflect upon the shit i did for people who never would do the same for me. Who I shared love and energy with that never appreciated or reciprocated it, but would go on to give that to others. More and more I learn how to protect my energy, but I've also gotten better at protecting my love and light cause not every fucking person deserves me and what I'm able to give.

How To Tame A Sorcerer (24)

Kagome takes in the hopeful expression painted on Satoru's face. The way his blue eyes peek over the rim of his glasses, to the way his body shifts tension from one side to the other. The black shirt in her hands weighs next to nothing, but at the moment, it may as well be a pile of bricks.

She wants to say yes. But then her mind reminds her of how she promised to always remain at InuYasha's side, and well, she clearly isn't with him now. For all she knows, she could get sent back at any moment. And could she really throw away the chance of seeing her family and friends again? Kagome averts her eyes, stares at an imaginary speck of dust on the floor.

"I'm scared that I won't be able to keep such a promise." She looks back at him, clutches the shirt to her chest. "What if I get sent back? I might not have a choice." What she needs is for him to understand. The last thing she wants to do is break his heart if the jewel or the well sends her back to her world. A wave of power thrums in her chest, sending vibrations of warmth throughout.

Was the Shikon trying to tell her something?

"I'm not hearing a no," Satoru says, plucking the shirt from her and tossing it onto the bed. He grabs her hand and places it on his chest, where his heart beats. "Besides, you can't say no after accepting my ring."

"You said that it wasn't a proposal," she says, her voice shaky. She wonders how he could find diamonds that matched the exact shade of his eyes; it couldn't have been a spur-of-the-moment transaction.

"It isn't. A promise of my intent."

She bites her bottom lip, flexes her free hand, and takes in the firm, but gentle hold he has over her. "But what if I don't have a choice?" Kagome needs him to understand that if they go down this route, that they could set themselves up for heartbreak. Another pulse of energy resonates in her veins. Who is she kidding? She's already too deep into it.

"Since when do we allow fear to control us?"

His phone goes off. The noise of the vibrations against the wooden nightstand cuts through the room.

Kagome tilts her head and smiles. "What's the point of asking my opinion if you've already decided what the outcome will be?"

"I read an article that a lack of communication is killer to a relationship."

"I mean the article isn't wrong. Have you never been in a serious relationship?"

"Nah," he responds, looking over at his phone. "It's probably Ijichi. We've gotten nothing packed." He sighs, letting go of her hand to answer his phone.

She thinks about how freely he gives his affection and the way he pulls her close when he gets back from a long day of teaching and exorcising curses. He's never pushed her to be something that she isn't, nor has he ever made her feel like she's less than, despite his egotistical proclamations of being the strongest. It's easy—too easy in how they've fallen into this relationship. She can't recall any arguments that have left her storming out of the apartment.

It hits her so suddenly that she staggers back. Since when does she allow fear to stop her from going after what she wants? The Shikon sends another warming wave of power throughout her body. Satoru ends his call and looks over at her, crossing his arms.

"What's with all the fluctuations?"

"I'll stay," she responds, ignoring his question. How is she supposed to explain something she doesn't understand herself?

He meets her halfway and lifts her up. Her legs wrap around him as he backs them towards a wall. Kagome holds back a wince as her legs are still sore from earlier. "Seriously," she half groans out at the feel of him hardening underneath her.

"We've got about 20 minutes until Ijichi gets here." He peppers kisses along the corners of her mouth.

"You're trying to kill me," she says. Kagome thinks back to his reasoning for not taking her with him, and while she won't ever admit to him, she has to agree that at this rate, nothing will ever get accomplished. Satoru kisses her deeply in response.

She apologizes to Ijichi-san for both of them.

"Yuji-kun, you're back!" Kagome greets while mixing the cookie dough ingredients together. "What's wrong?" She stops mixing and takes in the beat-down appearance that marks his face and posture.

"The curses today," he starts, voice cracking, "they were humans." His body trembles. "I killed someone."

Kagome frowns and sets the bowl on the counter. She dusts her hands on the pink frilly apron and pulls Yuji in for a hug. This time she is prepared for Sukuna's prodding, so she pushes down her initial reaction to purify the king of curses, and instead takes in the brute force of Yuji's despair. "You set them free." She runs a hand through his pink hair. His body sags against hers. "If they looked like curses, then I'm willing to bet that their souls were crying out for relief. You gave them that salvation."

"I just—I want to protect people."

"I know, I know. It's alright." She pulls back and palms the sides of his face. "I'm making chocolate chip cookies. We'll actually get to eat some since Satoru isn't here to steal all of them."

"Do you think Gojo-sensei has ever killed anyone?"

"Probably," she says, "but I can't say for certain. I've never asked him." Though in her gut, she is positive that Satoru has. "I mean, there are probably other curse users out there. I doubt that all of them turn into curses."

"Sensei isn't a bad person because of it," Yuji says, standing up to his full height. "Kagome-san, have you ever…"

"Only demons, but still. A life is a life, regardless of how different our chemical makeups may be."

"You sympathize with demons? Aren't they inherently evil like curses?"

"Curses are born from the negative emotions of people, right?" She scoops out some of the dough. "Demons have families just like us. Their lifespan and the things that they can accomplish exceeds what we can do. Not all want to cause chaos and destroy humanity in the way that curses are hyper-focused on attacking humans." She rolls the dough into small balls and places them on the pan. "Curses are like predators. They see humans—their prey, and attack because it's instinctive. Demons and humans are more like hunters. We assess the situation before making a move. Some humans kill for the heck of it and some demons are content with living their lives." Kagome opens the oven and puts the cookies in to bake. She grabs her phone off the counter and sets a timer.

"Thanks, Kagome-san," Yuji says, smiling. "I'm going to take a shower before dinner." He walks out of the kitchen, leaving Kagome with her thoughts.

The next morning, Yuji appears more at peace as he leaves with Ijichi-san. Something along the lines of finding a potential curse user from the Satozakura High School. Kagome hands Yuji a bento and instructs him to call her if anything comes up. It's not that she doesn't trust Ijichi-san. The man is nothing but dependable, but utterly useless if a fight breaks out.

She hums as she gathers the laptop and the bookbag full of notes that Satoru left for her. She arranges the papers on the coffee table and gets comfortable on the couch. It isn't a lot, but she was able to convince Satoru to let her help him out as an unofficial assistant. Her phone rings right as she opens up the laptop.

"Hello," she answers.

"What are you wearing?" Satoru asks. There's a loud boom on the other end of the phone. A scream follows shortly after.

"Are you exorcising a curse right now?"

"Just ignore that. You wearing that green skirt I like?"

Kagome glances down at her jeans. "No, I'm wearing jeans. You should be focusing," she lectures. Would it hurt him to be a little more careful?

"Eh, these things are weak. I don't know why I had to be the one to travel all this way."

"Yuji-kun killed a human that was turned into a curse yesterday. He was pretty upset about it." She puts him on speaker and reaches for one of the papers on the coffee table. "If you're able to, I think we should do something with him when you get back."

"Like a mini-vacay?"

"We could," she replies, frowning at the commotion on his end. "Why don't you call me back when you aren't busy?"

"I'm free right now," he says. "Just ignore the screams. I have everything under control."

Kagome closes her eyes. "I thought of something you could bring back. Condoms."

"What was that? Oh, one of them is trying to get away."

She shakes her head when the line goes dead. At least she got him off the phone. And besides, jokes on him because she picked some up yesterday after discovering that she needed a prescription to pick up Plan B.

It only takes a few… okay, it takes her all the way into the evening to decipher the notes and hand-drawn pictures to piece together a report. Kagome rubs her eyes. Too much staring at the screen is finally taking a toll. Huh. Yuji-kun should have come home by now, she thinks. The clock at the bottom of the screen reads 19:00. Maybe she should send him a text just to make sure that everything is okay.

Yuji: I'm joining Junpei and his mom for dinner! I hope that's okay.

Kagome: Of course, that's okay. Text me if you need anything.

She sets the phone back down and closes the laptop. It's kind of cute how he checks in with her.

Kagome doesn't pay any attention when Yuji leaves out the next day, though she blinks back the hurt when he rushes out the door without his lunch for the day. What she does pay attention to is the panic in Ijichi-san's voice when he calls her about Yuji taking off after this Junpei person.

She follows the sound of Yuji screaming at Sukuna to help and the laughter that follows the pleas. There's a man—no, a curse, with blue hair. And a monster that Yuji is hugging tightly. Kagome grips the bow. "Yuji-kun," she calls out, walking forward.

"K-Kagome-san, please help him."

She falters. Was this thing a human? It must show on her face because Yuji asks her again. Kagome swallows and reaches a hand out, touching its back. She feels the piercing gaze of Sukuna and the curse man watching her move. Please work, she prays, as the familiar feeling of her purification shoots forth, spreading through the monster's body.

"Well, isn't this interesting," the curse quips.

The monster shakes as the blue melts away and all is left is a husk of a young man. Yuji's eyes widen as he calls out, "Junpei."

"Thank you, Yuji," Junpei says, slumping down.

Kagome grits her teeth at the scene and turns to look at the curse. His patchwork face etches itself into her memory. "You did this?"

"You reversed my transfiguration, though I guess his body was too weak." He blurs out and appears in front of her, grabbing ahold of her and jumping back. "Now, now. Yuji. You wouldn't want the same fate to fall upon this woman."

"Let Kagome-san go," Yuji growls out, his fist-shaking.

This is bad, she thinks. Her purification rises just as his hand reaches into her soul. The Shikon pulses, reacting to the foreign cursed energy. Her vision blurs as the jewel darkens. Her heart pounds, pushing all of her blood flow to her eardrums. This is bad. She doesn't even want to think about the ramifications of what could happen if he continues to taint the Shikon.

"What is this," he murmurs, digging further into her.

"Kagome-san! Fight!" Yuji calls out.

Fight. Right, she promised she wouldn't hesitate. She latches on to that thought and forces the negative energy outward. Sweat drips down her brow as she struggles to contain it to just the curse. The worst thing would be Yuji-kun getting caught up in the blast. It hurts, her body aches, desperately wanting to let her purification run rampant, but she forces it to stay contained. His scream is the last thing she hears before everything goes dark, and she falls down. Kagome winces. Fuck, everything hurts. She struggles to raise herself up, just barely making out Yuji rushing forward. Distantly, she hears glass breaking.

"He could touch the Shikon," she says to herself as she grips her chest. She stands, grabbing her bow on her way and staggers out, once again following the familiar sounds of battle. Rest will have to wait.

She has to put an end to that curse now.

Future Gohan Survives AU Part 5! Time Skip Shenanigans!

It's been about a week since Trunks has killed the Androids. Since then, they've been taking it light. Sure, Gohan and Trunks have been training some, just to keep in tip top shape. Plus, they're both keeping Cell in mind. But, overall, things have been light. People have been beginning to emerge, and even the city is beginning to be rebuilt. It may be hard for everybody to get on the same page, but there's an air of overall hope. Hope that things are going to be better.

Gohan and Trunks just got done with their daily spar. This time, Gohan managed to match Trunks in base. Of course, the second they both went Super Saiyan Gohan went down in less than a minute. But, it's very evident that Gohan is beginning to catch up to Trunks. The two half saiyans go inside to see Bulma with some orange slices

Trunks looks ecstatic

"ORANGE SLICES?!??!?!"

Bulma gives her son a massive grin

"Yep! Now that the Androids are dead, we can finally begin to start trading rescources again! So, eat up!"

Trunks began to eat the orange slices, Gohan had one. Trunks really liked orange slices, he remembered having some as a toddler and absolutely adoring them. After the two of them had their orange slices, Trunks began to tell his master about his time in the past

"And then he went into this new form of Super Saiyan! It was like nothing I'd ever seen before!"

Gohan looked surprised

"Really? What did it feel like?"

"It felt like I was standing beside the sun, but angry! It was awesome! I think that you can reach it, too, Mr. Gohan!"

Gohan gives his student a good whack to the head

"What did I tell you about calling me Mr. Gohan?"

Trunks gave a shit-eating grin

"Doesn't mean I'll never stop calling you that!"

Gohan let out a sigh. He never knew why Trunks insisted on calling him that when Trunks could probably backhand him into next week. The playful environment went serious when the two began to feel a powerful energy.

Gohan went Super Saiyan

"Feel that, Trunks?"

Trunks went Super Saiyan and drew out his sword

"Yeah"

Bulma looked at the security cameras at the front

"Well, it's at the front door"

Gohan and Trunks began to feel out if this was anybody they knew. Gohan asked Trunks a question

"Is this that Cell guy you were talking about?"

"No. He felt like everybody."

The two of them approached the door, both were nervous. The power level didn't feel too strong, but definitely strong enough to deal some damage and kill some innocents. The two men approach the blast door, and Gohan and Trunks look at each other. The two men nod at each other. Trunks blasts the door down, the door flying twenty feet straight. The door hits the unknown opponent and it goes flying off of them. As the smoke clears, Gohan and Trunks sees a halo above the mystery person. The more the smoke clears, the more they begin to see their mystery person. Suddenly, the two of them began to realize why the energy was so familiar

It was Tenshinhan

The two men began to hug Tien with all of the love they could possibly give. They had absolutely no idea how he got here, but they didn't care. Tien was always the wisest person they knew, and it was good to see him again.

Tien began to blush from embarrassment

"Okay, okay, get off of me. I've only got 24 hours to tell you guys this"

Trunks looked confused

"Tell us what?"

Tien gave a gigantic grin

"We found out how to revive all of the Z-Fighters"

Tien looked at Gohan awkwardly

"Except your dad"

Gohan gave a smirk

"I'm not hurt"

After the three men went inside and Bulma had her obligatory hugs, Tien began to explain everything. Everything about New Namek, and how they could never hope to travel to it. The three survivors gave a slighly annoyed and confused look. That is, until Tien explained that he could teach Gohan and Trunks instant transmission. So, with a feeling of joy in their hearts, Tien takes the two men and Bulma outside to begin the training. Gohan and Trunks can't wait to finally learn how to learn Instant Transmission. Why?

Because Gohan, Trunks, and Bulma could finally get their family back

Echoes and Experiments- Chapter 16:

“Anniversary?” Albedo looked up at Sucrose and Timeaus, both looking horrified at the questioning tone in his voice.

“M-Mister Albedo, please tell me you know what an anniversary is.”

“I do.”

“D-Did you just not plan anything yet? Your anniversary with Miss Mie is coming up isn't it?”

“Oh… I suppose it is.”

“Mister Albedo… Have you ever celebrated an anniversary with Miss Mie in the 3 years you two have been together???”

“No, not that I recall.” He stated, both of his assistants looking like they might faint from this knowledge.

—

“Huh? Anniversary?” Mieko looked up at Jean and Lisa. “Albedo and I don't celebrate.” She shook her head, not wanting to incur the wrath of either one if she told them the relationship with Albedo was an experiment. But their faces at this moment were just a little terrifying.

“He doesn't do anything for your anniversary???” Jean asked, a dark energy looming over the normally bright woman.

“Now Jean, don't worry.” Lisa chuckled, the same darkness looming over her as well. “We'll go have a talk with him about this. He's in the headquarters today, isn't he?”

“Wait, wait you two.” Mieko shook her head. “Don't bother Albedo, it's fine. I don't need an anniversary celebration.” She added.

“Mieko.” Jean's hand rested on her shoulder. “Please don't worry. I will ensure that Albedo gives you a proper anniversary. Of all the things for him not to do… This I will not allow to pass.”

“Jean, really, it's fine.” Mieko said, trying to calm her friend down. But it was useless to try and stop her. When Jean made up her mind, changing it was extremely difficult. Mieko took the better part of the hour trying to soothe Jean's mind that she really didn't need Albedo to do that sort of stuff for her. “Albedo and I don't need that sort of thing, you know? It's just dating.” she reminded them. “It's more my fear of celebrating something that might end that's in the way, really.”

“Are you absolutely certain, Mieko?” Jean asked. “Albedo is nothing like your ex. And he's absolutely not the type to think about these things, since he's always working.”

“I'm sure. Really, I'm sure.” Mieko sighed in relief when it seemed like she was listening. “I thank you for your concern Jean, really I do, but I promise it isn't something to worry about.” She smiled.

“Just make sure that he doesn't think we aren't keeping an eye out for you.” Lisa chuckled. “If he messes up…”

“Now don't go threatening him.” Mieko sighed. When they finished their tea, Jean walked Mieko to where Albedo was, not wanting to let her walk alone after hearing from Albedo that she had been sleeping less and was having dizzy spells recently.

“Have you been eating properly? Drinking enough water? Making sure you're taking care of yourself?”

“Jean, breathe.” Mieko reminded her, smiling up at her friend. “I'm fine. Just stressed and worrying about how to make rent… I'll be okay.” Jean wasn't inclined to believe her, but she knew Mieko was going to be stubborn about this.

“If you ever need, you know we would welcome you here, Mie. Your training with Albedo has made you much better at fighting. And you were able to hold your own against me in a sparring match.” She added cheerfully. “That hasn't happened in years.”

“Because you're always working to better yourself, Jean. You're amazing that way.” Mieko replied as they arrived at the lab. Jean opened the door and let Mieko inside, seeing Albedo at his desk. The ashy blonde glanced up, smiling when he saw Mieko. “How was work today, Albedo?” She asked as he walked over to her and took her hand, kissing the back of it.

“It went well, darling.” He nodded his head to Jean, the woman smiling a little. “I have been told I need to make amends.”

“Amends?” Mieko asked.

“For not celebrating our anniversary our first 2 years, darling.”

“It's really fine…” Mieko smiled at him. “I don’t need it.”

“But considering that even Sucrose and Timeaus scolded me… I feel like I should do something. Perhaps I could take you out to Starsnatch for a picnic? Or would you prefer we go have a nice dinner somewhere in the city?” Jean smiled, glad that Albedo had said something.

“I'll leave you to it.” She said before leaving the room, Mieko sighing once her friend was out of the room.

“Are you unhappy, Mie? You've been sighing a lot recently.” Albedo asked her, holding her hand still.

“No, Albedo, not unhappy.” She shook her head. “Just… A bit tired.”

“Oh, then let's head home. Perhaps my place this evening? I don't want you going back to the shop right now.” He smiled at her.

“You know I'll have to go back tomorrow.” She reminded him gently.

“I know. But, at least for tonight.” He led her out of the Headquarters, holding her hand in his as they walked back to his home. “What would you like for dinner, Mie? Shall we order out?” he asked, turning to look at her and seeing a blank look in her eyes. “Mie?” She jumped a little, looking up at him.

“I'm sorry, Albedo, I was lost in thought again… What was that?” she asked, putting on a smile. Albedo had noticed her not paying attention more and more frequently. She was also making mistakes when she worked, or when she was in the kitchen too. The alchemist was starting to worry more, seeing as Jean and Lisa said she never used to be like that, even when she was absolutely exhausted.

“Nothing, my darling. Let's order out tonight. We can share.” He smiled at her. They got their dinner and headed home, and before Albedo realized, Mieko was essentially asleep on his shoulder. “Mie, lay down if you want to sleep.”

“Huh?” She looked around, blinking at Albedo as he took her glasses. “Did I fall asleep again…?”

“You did, darling. Come along. Time for bed.” He was a tiny bit disappointed, but he knew she needed the rest. He handed her a potion and pet her head once she drank it all. “Good job, Mie.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, go to sleep.”

“I'm sorry… I know you're pent up and waiting on me.” She mumbled as the potion took effect. Albedo shook his head, petting her hair as she began to drift off to sleep.

“You don't have to worry about any of that, Mie… Please, just get some rest.” He said softly, watching as she knocked out. “Mie… My darling Mie…” He sighed, feeling awful. He didn't know what else he could do for her, or how he could help her. The potions put her to sleep, but they never seemed to be enough. Some nights they barely did anything at all, and Mieko was always so exhausted. A thought crossed his mind that made him shake his head. “No… I can't lose her like this.” He mumbled to himself. “I'll tell her about Sumeru tomorrow… That should raise her spirits, and make her feel better.” He told himself, staring down at his partner, gently playing with her hair as she slept.

-

Mieko sat up slowly the following morning, hearing Albedo in the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and went to get dressed, seeing that Albedo had laid out some clothes for her. She smiled and got dressed, braiding her hair over her shoulder before heading downstairs. “Albedo.” He turned to her and smiled.

“Morning, Mie. Are you feeling better? Did you sleep well?” He asked as she walked over. “I made you something light, unless you want something more.”

“Thank you, Albedo.” She hugged onto him, kissing his cheek. “Would you count as more?” She asked, Albedo's cheeks coloring.

“If you're up to it… I don't mind.” He replied. “But food first, and drink some water. And then I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” She asked, letting Albedo finish cooking and plating the food. He lead her to the table where he had an envelope waiting.

“Yes, but please eat first.” He smiled. “And perhaps we'll have some fun after.” He teased, feeding her a few bites and allowed her to return the favor, taking their time. Once they ate and dishes were done, he sat with her and held her in his lap, trying to not push her since she had been so tired. “Mie?” He asked, nuzzling against her shoulder, trying his hardest not to give into his urges as she leaned against him and tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Mmm?”

“Darling.” He sighed shakily, his hands gripping her clothes. “I can't stop myself if you do that.”

“Then don't … You've been holding back on my account.” She whispered into his ear, Albedo shivering. “You're too considerate sometimes, Albedo.” She added, Albedo taking a deep breath and sliding his hand down to her thigh. “Whatever you want… Anything. I'll give it to you.”

“Yes, my Mie…”

-

After they were done, Albedo laid with Mieko in his bed as she stayed curled up next to him. “Do you feel better now?” She asked, smiling at him.

“You noticed…” He leaned over and kissed her. “You indulged me even though you were still exhausted.”

“I did. Because I wanted to.” She chuckled. “Now, tell me.” She said, playing with his hair. “What sort of surprise have you gotten this time? And how long will I be repaying it?” She asked, Albedo chuckling.

“Well, I'm not sure.” He said, rubbing her back, kissing her a few times before grabbing the envelope. They sat up and Albedo draped his shirt over her shoulders and held her around the waist as she opened the envelope. She read the contents, eyes widening as she kept going. “What do you think? Is this a good anniversary present, to make up for the 2 years I missed?” He asked, Mieko turning to him quickly and knocking him down before peppering his face with kisses.

“You… I can't believe…” She laid on top of him, tears in her eyes as she smiled. “Albedo…”

“I'll take that as a yes?” He chuckled. “A trip to Sumeru to study the flowers, courtesy of my new friends Tighnari and Cyno, to make some expansions on your merchandise. And of course, I paid your rent for the next 2 months, so you have no reason to refuse.” He smiled. “You're not upset?”

“If you ever do this again I will be.” She said, kissing him again. “You're absurd… And I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too, Mie.” He smiled. “Now, let's take our time today? I don't want to let you go… I need to make sure you rest, and have energy for our upcoming venture to Sumeru.”

“Alright… I'll indulge you for now.” She told him, relaxing with him and staying with him all day.

-

A couple of days later, they were packed and ready to leave the day after next for Sumeru. Mieko laid on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, Albedo sitting down on the bed next to her. “What are you thinking about, Mie?”

“Just making sure I packed everything.” She replied, looking up at him, smiling. “Thank you again, Albedo… For everything you've been doing for me.”

“Oh? You know I did promise… we worked out a plan together, after all.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I didn't think you'd implement it this year, though.” She said, smiling still. “You work too fast. I can't keep up.”

“There are also other things I do that you can't keep up with.”

“A-Albedo.”

“Yes, Mie?” He smiled, letting her pout at him. “Don't pout too much, darling. Or I'll end up tempted again.”

-

Albedo felt Mieko shift in her sleep, opening his eyes to see her face scrunched up. “Another nightmare…” He sighed, pulling her against him and tucking her head under his chin. “It's alright… I'm here, Mie…” He whispered, slipping his hand under her shirt and rubbing her lower back. She whined in her sleep, clearly distressed. Albedo just held her until she woke, smiling when he heard her apologize. “Shh, don't worry.” He shook his head, burying his nose in her hair and kissing the top of her head.

“I have to worry… Its causing you trouble, Albedo.” She replied, clearly put out by the knowledge that she was causing him to lose sleep, even if he didn't need as much as most people. “I… I can't handle the thought of distressing you…”

“And if I tell you, my darling, that I would rather worry about you than myself?”

“Then I will worry about you more.” She said softly, kissing the mark on his throat, making him pull her closer. “Albedo…?”

“Yes, Mie?”

“I've told you, haven't I? I would do anything for you… Go anywhere with you…” She said, Albedo tangling the fingers of one hand in her hair.

“I am well aware.” Albedo said softly. “My darling Mie… Go back to sleep for a while.” He added, kissing her forehead while Mieko clung to him and gently pressing against the mark on his throat. “I'm here… I'll make sure you're safe.”

“Thank you…” She said softly, smiling and kissing the mark again a few times, Albedo's cheeks coloring. He held her there, finally feeling her settle down and drift back to sleep, clinging to her. Why did he feel like she was slipping away when she was right here in his arms? This feeling made him clingier to her, he had noticed it many months ago, but he was so attached to her. Almost obsessively so.

“Mie… Do you know that I would do anything for you as well? And if anything ever happened to you… I cannot imagine the potential fallout that would follow…” He felt his eyes closing slowly, keeping his grip on Mieko until he couldn't stay awake any longer.

Once Albedo was deep enough in sleep, Mieko's eyes opened. She looked up at him, smiling softly. “Albedo…” She whispered softly, wrapping one arm over his side and pulling him as close as they could get, her hand gently dipping under his shirt and resting against his skin. “I'm so sorry… You're always putting up with me…” She felt compelled to apologize, to tell him sorry every time he did something for her. She hated it, and she knew he wasn't fond of the apologies either. She sighed and tried her best to settle back down. She had started to notice he was looking at her differently, and so her insecurity of being left behind was getting the better of her. She hated that feeling. She didn't know what else to do, which was why she kept saying things like she would follow him anywhere. It was definitely true that she felt that way, but verbalizing it eased her mind that she was making it clear. She could only hope that it wasn't irritating him as she closed her eyes and did her best to fall back asleep.

if you kissed me - Rodrick Heffley | 1.9k

Yeah yeah i know i haven't written since a million years ago. and yeah yeah i know this is my first real fanfiction i posted on tumblr. fair warning, i'm not the best writer, i honestly just do this for fun and i'm totally up to criticism because i do want to make my writing better. if this is literally inaccurate, im sorry its been like 5 years since i've read the books. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff-fest that I created in the span of a few hours.

paring: rodrick x reader genre: fluff. lots of fluff

Credits to the maker of the picture! 15 Days till the Contest | 9:42 PM, Saturday

Plick, plick, plick

My speakers were blasting so loud I almost didn’t hear the sound of pebbles hitting my window.

Plick, plick, plick

I rubbed my eyes and slammed my laptop shut, walking toward my bedroom window. Peering down, I saw a figure a few yards down from my second-story bedroom, looking back up at me. Dark brown, messy hair that stuck up around his face. A red and black flannel, black ripped jeans, and, (of course) a tee-shirt with “Loded Diper” clumsily written on it. A grin spread on his face as he saw my face come into his view, causing me to blush. Rodrick Heffley, Crossland High bad boy, and my boyfriend.

I unlocked the latch to my window and stuck my head out, taking in the cool air and letting the neighbors enjoy the music I was playing (they never did). I looked down.

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled

“Evening, Heffley.”

“I need to tell you something!”

“What’s so important that you have to scratch my window instead of using the power of modern technology to call me?”

His mouth opened to give me a response, but nothing came out. I smirked, “Come on up.”

I opened the window wider as he climbed the trellis that lined the back of my house. I backed up to my door and locked it. Precautions, my parents liked Rodrick but they definitely wouldn’t approve of him in my room at night. I looked back and I saw him, every feature of him illuminated by the light of my room. His cheeky smile and chocolate brown eyes. He slowly closed the window and walked toward me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I still got butterflies whenever he touched me.

“Hey, Spiderman. What did ya climb in here to tell me?” I asked

“I got Loded Diper into a contest.”

My eyes widened, Loded Diper, my boyfriend’s rock band, wasn’t exactly known for being the best. It was mostly known for his mom’s insane dance moves during the Plainview Talent Show. But of course, i'll never say that in front of his face.

“You did?! That’s awesome Rodrick!”

“Yeah! It's a battle of the bands contest, we’re going against two other bands. I really think this is gonna be our big break!” His eyes sparkled in excitement.

His happiness was contagious, he was like a goddamn puppy. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m proud of you Rod.” I muttered and smiled into his collarbone. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair and twirl my locks around his fingers.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the hug. “I’m having practice tomorrow with the band, you wanna come?”

“Sure. I go to every practice anyway, why miss out on this one?” I shrugged.

He chuckled and looked at me. Really looked at me. That’s one of the reasons why I fell for him. It never seemed like it, but he paid attention. We’ve only been dating for 4 months, but he knew me like no one else did, and I knew that in the way he looked at me. I felt his hand cup my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek in small circles. I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was, how close he was. Was I the one who leaned in? Was he the one who leaned in? Did we just do it subconsciously? Did he want this? Was he ready? Was I ready?

The ringing of Rodrick’s phone filled the room. The daze we were trapped in was gone and we separated, our faces red. Rodrick picked up the phone, it was his mom.

“Yeah, mom? Mom...I’m in the middle of something. I’ll do laundry later, ok? Now? C’mon… Alright, fine. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, I gotta blast.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked him as he started toward my window.

He looked back at me and planted a kiss on my forehead, the farthest we’ve ever gone with physical touch as a couple.

“Tomorrow”

~~✰✰✰~~

14 Days till the Contest | 1:22 PM, Saturday afternoon

“Should we take it from the top?”

Practice wasn’t going so well. I could feel the nervousness, the tension. Drums were slightly off beat, the guitarist’s fingers would fly to the wrong places on the fretboard, lyrics would go all over the place. The contest was two weeks away, and Loded Diper was already feeling the anxiousness. I sat on the floor of the garage, on top of a picnic blanket I found. To Rodrick’s dismay, his mom forced him to let Greg watch band practice, as a form of “brother-to-brother bonding time.” Greg sat next to me, mockingly covering his ears.

“Oh thank god, it's done.” Greg said with an immense amount of sarcasm and uncovering his ears.

Rodrick threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at his head, “Shut up.”

“Both of you, be nice.” I laughed. “I think you guys should take a break for a while, maybe shake off the nerves.”

“Good idea Y/N, 20 minute break everyone!” The lead singer said. Everyone spread out, grabbing a piece of pizza ordered earlier and laying down. Greg ran out of the garage, yelling, “I’m free!”

Rodrick stood up and began gulping down a bottle of water. He wore a black tanktop and black ripped jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead. I ran up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and faced me, running his hands through my hair, lost in thought.

“You ok, Rod?” I asked him.

He sighed, “nerves”

I leaned my head on his chest, “You’re gonna do great, you’ve done so many gigs in the past. Think of this as one of those!”

He smiled at me, “You know what would make me feel a lot less nervous?”

“Oh god. What?”

A really common thing Rodrick did was try to bargain a kiss on the lips from me. It's been an ongoing joke, a meaningless bit he did all the time. I’ll do my homework if you kissed me on the lips. I’ll smile in the picture if you kissed me on the lips. It still hasn’t worked.

“I might be less nervous if you kissed me on the lips.” He whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, “If that’s what it takes then I think you’ll lose the competition.”

He let go of me and laughed, my favorite laugh. “Worth a try.” He shrugged, going off to join his bandmates and the pizza. But as I watched him smile and laugh with his friends, I lost myself. I thought about the previous night. The way we fit into each other, the closeness, the fact that was so close that I could see my reflection in his eyes.

Maybe I should just say yes.

~~✰✰✰~~

The Day of the Contest

For the past 2 weeks, Rodrick has given me the “kiss-bargain” joke 9 times. Every time, I deflected it with sarcastic remarks, and every time I regretted not agreeing.

I sat on the front steps of my porch, waiting for Rodrick to pick me up. I regretted the jean shorts and plain black tee-shirt I had on, as a cold breeze brushed my skin. I pulled my black leather jacket on, which I painted “Loded Diper” on the back in white paint. Then, I heard it. The echo of heavy metal turned to full blast, and… the faint sound of something big getting knocked over. Oh god, they’re here. The white van with “Loded Diper” written in huge words screeched to a halt in front of my house.

The window rolled down, revealing my boyfriend and his excited grin. “Get in.”

~~✰✰✰~~

30 minutes till Loded Diper preforms

It felt surreal to be backstage, and really exciting. Energy was flowing through the room, as all the other bands talked and played. The rest of the band members seemed excited, full of adrenaline. Except for Rodrick, he’s been nervous ever since soundcheck. His leg was bouncing,he twirled his drumsticks around, drumming them on random objects, and his eyes stared into nothing.

“Rodrick, you want me to do your eyeliner?”

“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the ground, his voice seemed far away.

I lifted a liquid eyeliner pen I had in my pocket, “Eyeliner. I just did mine, we can match!”

He lifted his head and noticed me. I had my eyeliner smudged, just like he always does during a gig. He grinned, “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

I’ve done his eyeliner many times in the past, and I loved doing it because I had to be as close to him as possible. So I hopped onto his lap, pressing myself close to him, trying to comfort him with my warmth.

“Close your eyes.” I ordered.

As I applied his eyeliner, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was heavy, and fast. I’m pretty sure I would still hear it if I wasn’t as close to him as I was, even though the loud music blasting through the theatre.

“Done”

He opened his eyes, and butterflies flooded my stomach. We were close. Very close. Should I do it? Should I lean in?

Rodrick probably sensed my flustered-ness. He smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”

I rolled my eyes, blushing hard. “Shut up.” I said, playfully punching him.

~~✰✰✰~~

“5 Minutes until Loded Diper performs!” A man exclaimed to us.

Rodrick was as nervous as ever. We’ve been standing on the left wing of the stage, watching the other bands play. It felt like a bunch of Loded Diper copy-pastes. A bunch of high schoolers, weird names, very aggressive playing. But they were still pretty good. Rodrick was biting the nails of one of his hands and tapping his other hand on the wall behind him. I looked up at him and held his hand, stopping it from fidgeting. He smiled nervously.

Now or never Y/N…

“Hey, you said that if I kiss you, you won’t be as nervous. Right?”

He looked at me, wide eyed. He seemed to be trying to compute what I said.

I stood on tiptoe and put his face in my hands. It was that night all over again. Every detail of his face, of him was in full view. His eyes, his eyeliner, his scent, his lips. I leaned in.

His lips were soft against mine, but they were tense, flustered. I was terrified, It was the wrong place, the wrong time. Until I felt one hand in my hair, another on my waist, pulling me closer.

How long was the kiss? A few seconds? It felt like minutes, hours. Sparked ignited. Butterflies flew in my stomach. His scent was the only thing I smelled, his warmth was the only thing I felt. The music faded away. Everything faded away. It was just him and I. Until we broke apart, taking in deep breaths of each other. We wanted more, but Loded Diper was playing in a few seconds.

“Hey, Rodrick.”

“Yeah?”

“If you win I’ll kiss you again”

We both knew I would kiss him regardless.

I didn't edit this because editing is for wimps (just kidding be responsible and edit your work)

please like and reblog because it gives me serotonin and i need that

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : Happy Finan Friday dear readers!! Last chapter I have never had so much comments on this fic! Thank you so much!! And I guess I should add more people pointing a gun at Vicky? Lmaoo

Warnings : blood and death (it's back dudes)

Chapter 5 : I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Victoria gasps when she sees the man, his threatening eyes studying her briefly, searching for a weapon.

“Victoria?” Finan calls her from the entrance, alarmed by her sudden silence. 

She’s petrified, swallowing hard as her gaze jumps from the gun to the man’s face. She opens her mouth to warn Finan but the man moves quickly, his free hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him and instead she lets out a frightened scream. Her back hits the man’s chest and she shivers when she feels the edge of the silencer on his gun on her temple. In a second, Finan appears in the doorway, his eyes widening at the situation. Her gaze locks with Finan’s, her breath shaking in fear while she can feel the man’s breath against the side of her face.

“Don’t move or I'll shoot her.” He barks while the sound of steps coming from behind the Irishman resounds, and Vicky can barely distinguish two other armed men. Finan tilts his head slightly while raising his hands in a sign of peace, just enough to make her understand he has the control over the situation. She would have gladly replied that it looks far from it as they are encircled by three men with guns and are both unarmed. “Good.” The man mutters. 

But Finan doesn’t stay still, instead he turns around and in a swift move he punches one of the two men behind him in the face. He stumbles back, his gun falling on the floor. The other immediately shoots Finan in the shoulder, making him grunt in pain and fall on the floor head first. Vicky gasps his name as she sees the blood spreading around Finan, motionless. The punched man rubs his nose in pain, crouching to take back his gun that had been dropped on the floor. “Fucking idiot.” He grumbles but before his fingers could reach the weapon, Finan’s hand has grabbed it.

The man makes a noise of surprise, about to step back, but the Irishman rolls on his back, holding the weapon above him. He pulls the trigger and the second after, the man’s face is ornamented by two holes, falling dead onto the ground. Victoria wants to scream, but it’s strangled in her throat as her eyes try to follow Finan’s movements. The man holding her tosses her to the side to attack Finan, making her stumble until she grabs the edge of the counter. She tries to calm her breath while she hears the sounds of the fight, other shooting muffled by silencers. When she eventually dares to look at what is happening, there's only Finan and one last man. The stranger shoots in her friend’s direction while he stands up after stabbing another with his Opinel, but Finan avoids the shot and instead of ending its course in his body, it pierces Victoria’s. 

She cries out in pain, her hands letting go of the counter to press again the wound on her flank, sitting heavily on the floor. The pain is sharp and resounds in her whole body. She pants in panic at all the blood slipping through her fingers, her vision blurred by tears. She barely hears Finan calling her when he kneels in front of her, so his hand cups the side of her face to have her attention. 

“Calm down, it’s goin’ to heal.” He reassures her, his eyes trying to keep holding hers as she tries to calm the jerky rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest. His thumb brushes her cheek gently and she feels the bullet slowly leaving her body by itself until she can feel the cold metal piece in her hand. The pain disappears as well and she starts to breathe more calmly, looking down at her wound and noticing there’s no more blood coming out of it. When she looks up to Finan, he is smiling. “See? As if nothin’ happened.”

Vicky doesn’t answer, her mouth agape as she finds her composure again but when her eyes fall on the three dead men she feels weak again and Finan has to catch her before she falls. She grabs his shoulder, sobbing in his neck while he rubs her back. She can’t look away from the men, their face pale as they were laying in huge puddles of blood. She can’t even feel relieved that she is safe, all she can think of is those lifeless men. 

“We have to leave.” He says softly, but non less urging. 

Victoria pushes aways from him immediately, her hands resting on his shoulders, his sweatshirt pierced multiple times and stained with red. “What? No! No, we’ve got to call the police… To find out why they were here!” She exclaims, gesturing toward the men and her head shaking as she tries to explain her opinion. 

But she’s stopped in her rambling by Finan’s hands clasping at each side of her face, forcing her to look at him another time. She swallows when sees how serious his eyes are this time and she understands that whatever could be her opinion, she’ll have to follow him anyway. “And ya’ll tell them ya did this all by yourself?” Finan raises his eyebrow interrogatively and she only looks down resignedly. “They were well trained men, Victoria, it’s not just burglars.”

“Why were they here then?” She asks even if she doubts him having the answer already. 

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.” He assures her, his palms sliding to her shoulders. “But now, I give ya ten minutes to take your things and we get the fuck out of here, alright?”

Victoria takes a deep breath and nods. Finan stands up, stretching his hand out to pull her up. She walks out of the kitchen, her legs shaking and trying to keep her away from the dead to avoid increasing her sick feeling. Once she’s in her bedroom she’s petrified again, not knowing what to do, images of the fight troubling her mind. She shakes them off by a quick movement of her head and grabs a bag, stuffing clothes in it randomly. She also puts all the cash she has, guessing it could always be useful. As she does it, she doesn’t notice the tears streaming down her face. What she has been expecting to happen only in years is now happening: she’s leaving everything behind.

She can’t even think of the consequences properly, Finan coming in with one of the small guns stuck in his trousers. “I’d gladly accept a clean sweater.” He says, the lightness of the sentence not matching his tone. She points to a drawer and he steps towards it, removing his dirty hoodie and t-shirt in the process.

“Where are we going?” She asks, holding her now closed bag against her as if she’s a child hugging her teddy bear to find reassurance.

He briefly turns around, and she can notice there’s no mark of the bullets he took during the fight on his skin. “I don’t know.” He puts on the new sweater. “The farthest away possible for the moment.” His hand grabs her shoulder and after a light squeeze he pushes her forward. “Now we go.” 

She takes her coat in the living room, looking around one last time, this isn't how she thought things would go. She pinches her lips tightly to not let out a sob and she walks to a shelf to take a photo album, the one her mother gifted her for her eighteenth birthday with pictures of her since she was a baby. She turns around, Finan waiting for her in the entrance with an apologetic expression. She swallows, trying to look stronger than she's actually feeling and joins him after a few determined steps.

“We can go.” She declares. 

Finan's car isn't parked far, and in less than ten minutes they are on the road, taking the direction to where Finan has been sleeping for the past weeks. From time to time she looks at him, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel while she is feeling drained of energy, so much so that she only realises she fell asleep when she hears the slamming of the car's door, startling her.

“Hey! Easy, t'is me.” Finan says raising a hand peacefully as she abruptly moves back instinctively. 

“S… Sorry.” She mutters, looking down. 

And they take the road again, a heavy silence reigning in the car. It's past midnight now and Victoria simply tries to not think too much, focussing on the streetlights. If she trusts the signs they cross, they are driving North in Sheffield's direction. She doubts Finan has any particular intention to go there, all he wants is to go the furthest away possible from London. When she rests her eyes on him, she can't help the thrill that runs along her spine, he has killed them in cold-blood, not even thinking twice. She knows he is a warrior, he has killed countless men and until now it never really bothered her. But seeing it, it's something else.

She looks to her hands, there's still blood on them, her own. She knows she couldn't have died, but it totally disappeared from her mind when she felt the gun against her temple, fear taking control. She has always made herself minor wounds, nothing serious and seeing she was healing faster than anyone felt more like a good trick than something life changing. But now, after taking a bullet, she realises the real burden of immortality: there's no end. And weirdly, when it's that end that scares people, Victoria wishes she had one. Something to give her a reason to enjoy her life. 

“Are ya alright?” Finan asks her when they stop at an old rest stop, Victoria coming back from the toilets with her hands now cleaned of all the blood.

“I don't know.” She sighs desperately, leaning against the car next to him. She frowns when she notices he is lighting a cigarette before bringing it to his mouth. “You smoke?”

He shrugs, breathing out the smoke. “When I'm nervous.” He admits and raises his eyebrows when Vicky gives him a disapproving look. “What? It's not like it's goin' to kill me.” He wryly replies. 

She rolls her eyes, grimacing at the tobacco smell tickling her nostrils. Finan searches something in his pocket, catching her attention. He hands her a folded paper, stained with blood, but when she opens it, most of the information is still readable. She widens her eyes when she recognizes a picture of her, her number, her address, and in fact all the most important information regarding her life. 

“T'was in one of them's pocket.” Finan explains after a long exhale. 

She raises frightened eyes at him, her fingers flexing on the paper. “They were searching for me?” She asks, though the answer was obvious. Finan nods and points a finger to a particular sentence : ‘Immortal.’

“They knew.” A long silence carries away his words, Vicky not realising she’s holding her breath until he moves to crush his cigarette in the ashtray further.

“How’s that possible? I… I spoke of it to no one!” She exclaims in panic, fearing Finan could blame it on her but he simply rubs his eyes with his thumb and index. 

“I’ve got no ideas, Victoria.” He sighs and opens the car to sit on the driver’s seat sideways, his face buried between his palms.

Vicky’s stomach squeezes as she reads the paper again, some information is related to her family and friends and she suddenly fears for them. If there’s others, she has left her phone in her apartment and Finan threw his in a trash in her street, the only things that could permit them to find her again. So what if they try to seek information through them? And she doubts whoever they are that they’ll be kind to them.

“They are all in danger… My family… Rebecca.” She whispers, new tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “We have to warn them! Or take them with us…”

“No we won’t.” Finan replies, stretching his legs and before she can protest, he continues. “They’ll soon enough report your disappearance, they’ll be interrogated by the police and under their protection.” He says, confident. “They’ll be safe.” She knows Finan is probably right, nothing will happen to them, so she nods silently. “Well, we should sleep a little. We’ll take back the road in the mornin’.” He says after yawning. 

Sleeping in the car is far from being comfortable, but they manage to find a way to, Vicky laying on the backseats and Finan on the front passenger leaned seat. However, she can’t find sleep, tossing over and over again, trying to stay covered by the coat Finan has lent her as a blanket. When she closes her eyes, she sees the fight again, her heart racing and her guts twisting. So she just stops to try and stares at an invisible point in the car. She wonders how everyone will react when they’ll learn she disappeared, by noon she guesses a neighbor will have found the opened door of her flat and the three men. She supposes Rebecca will immediately think it is Finan who’s responsible, though she doesn’t even know his name. She’ll feel responsible for being the one organizing their meeting. And her parents, they’ll be devastated. 

She feels terribly bad to be the reason for their pain, to not be able to just send them a message, just to tell them that she’s fine and will be. She’s been such a hard child and teen, too stubborn to listen to her parents. She wasn’t Charles, nor Rebecca, a calm and studious person and still isn’t. She has never felt like she could be a source of pride for them, only a source of worry. And once more, she’s going to be the reason for their troubles. 

She can’t prevent the way her throat tightens and the tear that trickles down her cheek in silence. But one is joined by another and she now can’t prevent the hiccup of pain that escapes her as she sobs. She’s tired of crying, her eyes swollen and aching but she has nothing else to do. Until a hand reaches out to hers through the dark, taking it with such kindness that it stops her cries for a brief instant. She wipes her eyes with her other hand and then meets Finan’s gaze. He is still laying on the passenger’s seat, quite awkwardly so his left hand could hold hers. She can’t read his expression, his face lightened by the road’s light further, he isn’t sorry, nor sad. He stares at her so softly, she finds it reassuring and doesn’t even think of her anger towards him anymore. 

“I know the feelin’, when you lose everythin’.” His thumb rubs her fingers tenderly, making her melt, her eyelids suddenly heavier. “But it will be alright, Vicky.” He promises her, holding her gaze once more and she can see how confident he is.

It’s also the first time that he says her nickname, she doesn’t object, and even if she did, she’s too sleepy to protest. So she smiles tiredly, tightening her grip around his hand, and whispers: “Thank you.”

A/N : Finan with a gun: H O T

Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg ​ ​ @naps4bats ​ ​ @osferth ​ @maggiescarborough ​ @finansarms ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby

008. Adroid [FFXIVwrite2021]

"So just...pick a big room?" she asks the punkish apparition, head canting a little.

The redhead nods, smirking a little. "You're a clever girl, Quil - I trust ya won't pick somewhere with so little space, the bulkheads get blown up."

There's the briefest moment of blue screening brain at the compliment, but it's gone in a microsecond.

"'Cept when it comes to that other thing you brought up," she chides, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "That was stupid as fuck, and we're gonna be discussin' it when you're done kicking this Miqo'te about."

Quila can't help but wince, giving the Arcadia a sheepish expression.

All the apparition does to such is wave her hand a little dismissively. "I said later. Call your new potential toy - just be sure ta gimme a show~."

Then just like that, Quila's alone again. Sort of. Mostly. Sighing, she reaches up for the linkpearl that's paired to her tomestone. "Karuis...found us a place to train."

"Ah, and here I thought I was gonna resign to watching the rain bounce off the bulkhead. Where am I meeting you?"

Xe has busied xemselves with taking up a curled up position somewhere in one of the Outlaw's more out of the way pieces of real estate, some cross beams nearby to some of the larger guns. Xe hops down from their Miqo accessible locale as xe wait for the exact location, tail flicking idly behind xem.

"You grab a place ground side, I assume?

"Nah. Arcadia's letting us pick a room," she explains but doesn't. "I figure one of the cargo bays is gonna be best, yeah?"

She's already making her way through the massive ship. She's trying to find where the cargo bays actually are, given she's near the bridge out of habit.

"Long as we have permission, that's fine with me. And aye, cargo bay works fine."

Xe didn't really require an explanation, everything after talking house, living through the memories of others, a massive skeleton trying to kill xem, and whatever the fuck the past few moons have been...

Xe assumes the Arcadia is just as alive as anyone else, and she told Quila what room to use. As xe make their way over to the other airship, xe give some idle thoughts to where precisely in the cargo bay they were meeting before deciding that finding out could be the adventure. Xe gives a slight bow of respect as xe come aboard the Arcadia before xe start moving like a shade through the halls, the map the Viera had shown before of this great airship bouncing about between their ears; as xe try to find... oh, there she is. By providence, luck, or maybe just The Arcadia being well designed xe spot the Garlean and give a half-wave, tail flicking behind xem.

"Didn't get lost, did we? Would be a little concerned if you did."

"Pfft, she'd let me if only to watch in sadistic amusement," she chirps as she turns, startling a little physically due to their lack of footfalls. "But, there are multiple cargo bays here. This is just the first one I've found. This ship is MASSIVE, and I feel like it's some sort of game to her to not just...give me a map."

"I could certainly see that; watching people wander around aimlessly can be pretty hilarious." The Seeker blinks at the noise before rubbing the back of their head as xe put on a small smile. "Sorry, someone had the bright idea to put a bell on me when I was young, fucking menace ever since, apparently. But! I have a map.. kind of, at least I remember the floor plans or whatnot. Rika managed to snag, so I mostly know my way around.. but that doesn't stop me from being thankful that I haven't gotten lost.. yet."

Xe glances about the cargo bay for a moment before turning their gaze back to her and motioning to her, finding a nearby support beam to lean on.

"So, what's the plan for today? Am I starting with teaching you the basics of Thavnarian dance fighting, or are we sparring to see where you are in hand to hand generally and working from there?"

At this point, she's in a pair of shorts (black), stockings (dark purple), her almost-trademark boots (black & gold), and one of those tank tops that the Isghardians were handing out to crafters (wine red). While she doesn't have Talekeeper with her, at least, as far as can be seen, she's still wearing the Warmage magicite Locke'd given her as a pendant to the collar she seems to wear 24/7.

When he speaks of the bell, she ends up giggling a little, trying to picture xe with a collar bell...which was surprisingly easy.

"I'm thinking we try some hand-to-hand so you can figure outplacement," she notes with something of a wicked grin, suddenly ramping towards manic. "Just don't go easy on me."

Xe has swapped over to something more warm with their Bozjan coat now missing for The Twelve only know how long. So the Seeker has thrown on a currant purple anemos gambison, some modified jet black strife pants, and one of their constantly swapping pairs of combat boots, these ones an Alliance make in soot black. Xe still has the twin onyx and dark amber revolvers gifted to xem by Locke on their belt though, besides that, xe aren't carrying any type of polearms. The two accessories that stand out are a watch on their left wrist that has a faint hint of aetheric energy coming off of it and a dull grey gunmetal tin clipped on their right, just about the size of a soul stone.

Xe raises a brow at the snickering and just shake their head a little; that smile from before staying before it turns into a grin at she's request.

"I wasn't planning on it; it wouldn't be an accurate assessment if I did take it easy. So I'll give you one warning before we do go; if you're gonna try and flow again, I'll start using my stone. On your mark, Aquila."

As soon as those words leave the Seeker, their demeanour switches with all the effort of a light switch, mismatched gaze narrowing as xe drop into a defensive stance, the style more reminiscent of an Imperial martial discipline than anything else.

"I uh...kinda don't know how to make those moves otherwise, so game on?" she replies as she falls into...absolutely no stance. There's nothing. Her stance is absolutely neutral all around, and suddenly, all but the most necessary of movements evaporates as she begins to focus on xem. It's slow, but there's a pronounced shift in her entire being, down to an aetheric level. A change she doesn't seem to be aware of.

She's almost maddening to fight. Any and all movement happens with barely a microsecond of warning, yet all of them still flow as though she's dancing, not fighting. Even watching the triangle, her telegraphs are tiny as hell; she always falls back to neutral if there's time, otherwise flowing from one motion to the next as xe fight.

And just like that, she blinks into the Lifestream to close the distance, ejecting just in reach of xe - as she had on the deck, only this time with the intent of actually striking him right in the solar plexus.

Xe would have clarified that xe head meant the blinking manoeuvre, but when xe takes in that she lacks stance, any of those thoughts leave xir mind. The Seeker catches the shift instance, their ears pinning back and tail puffing up as xe prepare for that same focus xe encountered on the deck of The Outlaw.

The dance-like flow to the spar thus far and the speed on display put the Seeker right in their element, moving with all of the grace that being both a Miqo'te and professional performer granted them as xe keep in sync with the Garlean. The Seeker shifts between and around styles like breathing the longer the fight goes on, prodding and poking at her defences to find her responses and strengths to certain things. The Seeker seems to favour a style favoured by Doman resistance cells, sending out elbows and fist and knee strikes in rapid succession.

Like a viper, the Seeker waited for that shift in the air as she went into the Lifestream. Xe know that point for point, xe weren't going to be able to match the manoeuvre for sheer speed, so instead, xe rely on the anticipation of the strike's previous flow. With an utter lack of hesitation, the Seeker moves to send out a swift dragoon kick, less focused on power but more on sheer speed as it snaps the air around the two. xir's body twists for the kick and hopefully moves the blow to somewhere less disastrous should it land. Xe was not about to hold back here, she deserved the Seeker at their best, and xe weren't one to disappoint.

Given that xe is a clever catte, xe'll quickly pick up on certain hallmarks of what she's capable of combatively: one of her biggest strengths is the lack of movement telegraphing, as it makes finding any sort of opening complex, at first. While her eyes seem to be unfocused, she locked onto the triangle that's formed by the Miqo'te's collarbones and sternum, that distant gaze seeming to more stare into their soul than past xem.

Blinking back into a kick sends her strike wide, the palm of her hand skimming along the side of his leg as she adjusts to try and block the kick before sliding around the side of Karius' body. Should she slide past him, her next attack is towards the middle of his lower back - another snapping strike with a bit of aether behind it, her second hand following to make a small follow-up strike.

With a better sense of what xe were working with when it came to her, the Seeker decides to switch up tactics. Xe shifts energy from trying to read the Garlean's movements to instead focusing on following through on their own and keeping a sense of spatial awareness in the room. Xe decides to eat the strike to their lower back, the energy needed to counter that far too much of a gamble; the weaker follow-up was a different story, however.

Turning on a dime on their heel, xe move to face she, using the speed and momentum of the rapid turn to try and veer the strike off to their left with their palm. Now fully facing she and the distance relatively short, xe go on the offensive, taking a far more aggressive stance as xe unleash a combination of palm and knee strikes. Xe wasn't relying on all of them to hit but instead overwhelming the other fighter with a complete switch from their previously tight defence. Xir's aim at the moment seemed to get the two of them out to a far smaller section of the cargo bay or at least push them to fight closer to this area.

Surprisingly, she doesn't smile at landing the strike. In fact, her expression is little more than deadpan as xe launch the continuous series of strikes. At first, she manages to keep up on blocking or redirecting the hits, but the longer xe continues the tactic, the more she has to pivot or dodge than she does block. Finally, it's becoming clear xir is going to overwhelm her with the rapid strikes...

...and as the Miqo'te overwhelms her, she blinks into the Lifestream, crossing through xe before flashing back into existence at their back. She's already executing a roundhouse kick as she solidifies, aiming for her opponent's middle back.

The Seeker was not about to let up the advantage of xir's rapid combos as xe continues to press her further into the smaller section of the cargo hold, boots squeaking against the metal floor as their speed increases. xe were, however, incredibly aware that xe couldn't keep it up forever; either she would come right for their throat or-

The sensation of being teleported through gets xem to shiver, warning xem what may be coming alongside dreading that blink. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time for xem to dodge the strike, at least not in a way that wouldn't give her another big opening to exploit. So xe quickly turn on their heel and brace their arms up to catch the blow, which still sends the Seeker sliding back and does some solid damage. Xe hiss in pain as xe take a moment to centre xemselves before rushing into the Garlean's space. xir's method swaps now to something far faster, using their stone to gather as much momentum and speed as xe can while bleeding into these dancer-like strikes and spins. Thavnairian dance fighting, and xe gave her a crash course like an Imperial locomotive coming down the tracks.

Active learning at this speed is possible for the Warmage, though it was more of a slow build-up rather than a sudden gift of knowledge the way it can be when there's less going on. Falling back to focusing on dodging more than redirecting or blocking, xe would start to notice the more xe does a particular mood or technique, the more likely it is that she works it into her side of the fighting. With movements the Miqo'te's using heavily, she can almost perfectly mirror them; with the less frequent movements, she's a little unstable and erratic, her form nowhere near as tight and proper.

The continued attacks again start to press her, causing her to play defensive more than offensive.

Xe's next high kick ends with a different result: she doesn't attempt to block, redirect, or dodge such the way she has been. No, instead, she just...bends back at the waist, forming an almost perfect arch as her hands drop to the floor behind her. And then she pushes her feet off of the floor, intent of kicking her opponent with each foot as she shifts into a handstand before vaulting from such to her feet - facing xe, but several fulms away now.

As xe starts to notice she putting xir's techniques into her fighting styles and the like, that.. certainly gets a reaction from xem. But, then, something snaps from behind their crimson and amber eyes. The Seeker continues darting into she's space as much as xe can up until that next high kick, eyes going a bit wide as xe watch that arch and then the kick lands.

The hit lands nicely and sends xe sliding back, getting their tail to puff up and to show off their sharp canines, which are considerably sharper and pointed than even a vast majority of Keepers. Unfortunately, this fact doesn't stay in the spotlight for long as black aether sparks around xem as xe concentrates on their stone and go on an onslaught. Xe was going to put pressure on the fact she couldn't precisely copy their techniques perfectly or keep up with their speed to the same extent. If she continued using flow, then xe wasn't going to go easy, sending forth kick after dashing elbow to shin strike. One of the main strikes xe go into xe get right in her face and attempt a sweeping kick the Garlean before spinning into another kick to her midsection.

The initial onslaught causes her to start losing ground rapidly, causing her to dart backwards as she refocuses on trying to dodge as many of the strikes as possible. However, the moment the Seeker starts to focus on her face, she blinks backwards three separate times - putting as much distance as possible between them. Although she retreats, xe' leg sweep fully lands while the second is more of a light graze across her stomach.

She crashes to the floor as she exists the Lifestream the third time, rolling several times due to the force of the impact. Such is only stopped when the back of her upper body slams into the metal wall with a loud clanging thud. For a few heartbeats, she's propped up against the wall before her eyes fully roll back into her head as she falls sideways.

Xe was in the zone and was hard-pressed to get out of it, especially with the amount of blinking around the place that she was doing. Despite the serious expression on their face, xe were having so much fun with all of this. Xe goes to try and bring down another combination when xe hear that crash.

Xe pauses a few fulms away from the Garlean before their eyes go wide, and xe dart over to her side. Then, cursing under their breath as xe tries to force xemselves to not only calm down but try to figure out what might be wrong with their limited medical experience.

"Shit, shit... Aquila, are you alright?"

((Adapted from an RP session with Karuis.))

Let’s Catch Up...

I've spent another month on dating apps and the results are... pretty damn similar. I kept going with conversations I had started before the start of June and did a week of solely swiping right to see how many matches I would get. It was a long week, that happened to wind up being the last week of the month (save a few days) but the general outcome was that Tinder and Badoo were the successes. At least in terms of numbers.

Here's the breakdown:

Badoo

For the entirety of the month, I had one date from here - it had been rescheduled once and we had a mix-up of where we were supposed to meet. I gave my number to one guy who I had been talking to at the start of this whole experiment but he's proven to be.. elusive to say the least.

To be honest, I still don’t think this app is for me. Even if I did get a date from here who seemed to be a decent guy. The fact is, dating at my age only garners attention from people at the top of the age range, at least for me (I know that won’t be the same for everyone but it was my experience.) I didn’t really keep a good record after day one, but from what I can gather of all my notes -- yes, I took notes, -- is that I matched with an average of 4.86 guys on Badoo for the whole week. That number would probably be lower if I only averaged the number of conversations I started or the dates I went on.

Bumble

What the hell is going on with the guys on Bumble? I was supposed to have a date yesterday with a guy from the app but he wouldn't communicate with me clearly so I accidentally stood him up and now he hasn't responded to me since I told him I wouldn't ditch my mom to talk to him on the phone for an hour.

I’ve always had a bit of an issue with Bumble. I’m not one for talking first, because I don’t know what the best icebreaker is and no one wants to respond to “hey.” So, like I said, I didn’t really keep track but from what I could tell, my average was 7.36 but I often forget about matches on there and they expire. That number is probably much higher lol.

Hinge

I did have a date from Hinge during this week of swiping right on everyone -- or in Hinge's case, liking everyone -- but it had just been scheduled that way. We had matched even before I started the experiment but the conversations were always a bit weird and I could never tell why. He's a nice guy but he's more a friend than someone I could see myself dating. As for the app, I never got any new matches. No new likes. Nothing...

That being said, the matches on this app were the easiest to keep track of... because there was nothing to track. I only had one date so when I added him into my average, I got a whopping 0.25 matches! It’s a weird app and I don’t think that it’s for me either. I wanted it to work because I think that it has the ability to form genuine connections in people, however, you have to match with people in order for those connections to start and for me, it just doesn’t seem to be happening.

Tinder

So, Tinder was a bit of a surprise to me. It's a numbers game honestly. It's the app that everyone knows or heard about first so everyone and their dog is on it. But, because it's a dating app, you never really know what you're gonna get. I think I have a very specific type, physically, which I like to say is "guys who are way too out of my league" i.e. the tall, handsome, athletic guys I could never ever get. None of the guys I had conversations with on Tinder during the last week was my type. One of the guys I matched with was so my type that I was trying so hard to play it cool but he just never initiated a conversation so he's just like sitting in my list and I'm trying desperately not to give into him.

Tinder had a lot going on during this week-long experiment. The tally was all over the place, averaging 51.63 matches, but that’s not a typical thing for me on these apps. Because of how specific my taste is, I typically unmatch with a lot of the guys who match with me on Tinder and then I’m left with maybe 10 guys with who I might consider continuing a conversation. Out of this average, I’ve only kept having conversations with 2 guys, setting up 1 date for Friday and a possible date with the other in like a week when he gets back from camping. I think I’ve started to sabotage both of them because I just.. don’t know how to do the dating thing.

Unfortunately, I’ll probably keep using Tinder. Even though I hate it. Even though the guys are often creepy. Even though I don’t match with my “type.” Even though it likes to play these games ("vibes,” “hot takes,” “swipe night,” etc.”) The fact is, it has the most options. If the conversation doesn’t work, or the vibe doesn’t work, unmatching is easy but Tinder has the majority of people to match with because it’s such a common app. Most of the time, It’s a blow to my ego but every now and then, someone cute comes along and boosts the ego a bit. If only for a minute.

In conclusion:

It’s like a freakin’ essay up in this bitch. I wish I could’ve written all my essays as Tumblr posts -- they would’ve been far more entertaining -- but I digress.

If anything, this whole thing is an experiment in sexuality and how comfortable I could be in my own body. I wanted it to be about finding someone I had a genuine connection with and who I felt like I could tell my truth to without being judged but in the end, I did feel extremely judged.

But not about sex.

Most guys were curious why I was still a virgin but it wasn't as big of a deal as I thought it was going to be. There were guys who made me feel like I should feel free to explore my body and my sexuality and they made me feel beautiful; even if it was in the form of innuendos and double entendre's.

No, no. When they found out I had never been in a relationship before, suddenly nothing made sense and they had all these questions and they felt pressured even though I told them that I had no expectations. The more times that I got asked "why have you never been in a relationship?" the more I wanted to delete the apps, curl up in my skin and die.

If I knew why I've never been in a relationship, then I would have been in a relationship by now...

It just felt so humiliating to keep explaining it over and over again and I couldn't believe this is where everyone was going to focus on. That being said, the guys who didn't focus on my relationship status or my virginity, more or less ghosted me and I was doing everything in my power not to double message them. I finally understand why people go after people who treat them like sh*t. Like, yes, I'm getting attention from other people but I'm not getting your attention and it's confusing the hell outta me. Look, if I'm being honest, I know that everyone's experiences are different and everyone is looking for something different on different apps. I am one of these people who have a very specific type and it's hard for me to get past that, even when I do match with perfectly nice guys outside of my preferences. I think there's part of me that knows I'll never end up with a guy who's my "type" so I don't try as hard or I sabotage things too quickly but I think there's another part of me that thinks "fuck it. If I match with this guy and the conversation doesn't go anywhere, then oh well."

So, is it my mindset that's the problem? Are my standards too high? or does my lack of self-esteem come through in conversation?

It's probably all three but I know what kind of a person I am. I know that I care too much, I know that I'm kind, I know that I'm a bubbly person and I know that, in time, I'll find someone who matches my energy and what I want out of this. The bottom line is this: dating apps are fine and they work for some people but dating, in general, is hard.

So... that's my little dating journey. It was a bit of an ego boost and a truly wild ride and I don't really know where to go from here...

Hellooo!! I love love LOVE the diamond box matchup you did!! You're amazing!! Your blog is incredible!! Now I'm here for a romantic haven box Haikyuu matchup pls🥺

Appearance: My name is Kay! She/her, black, straight, 5'1, I have a slightly athletic & curvy-ish figure (lol idk), short-ish hair(like mid-neck), dark brown eyes, shoe size 9, I like to dress comfy so I'm always in oversized hoodies, sweatpants, sneakers, sweatshirts and shorts. I like colorful clothes too, high waisted jeans and shorts and boots. I'm not very fashionable but I try lol.

Personality:

Basics: infp-t, Hufflepuff, Taurus sun, scorpio moon, sanguine, chaotic good, ambivert.

Some positive traits: I'm optimistic, friendly, energetic, organized, enthusiastic, observant, happy, open-minded, loving, encouraging and inquisitive!!

Some negative traits: I'm annoying, perfectionist, insecure, forgetful, easily distracted, kinda lazy, argumentative, too nice at times and clingy.

I love learning new things!! Currently I'm learning Korean, how to draw, how to paint and songs on the saxophone.

When I'm up for it, I love fun physical activity!! Going for a hike, going to the gym, bungee jumping, mountain climbing, going camping and etc :D

Although I love going out, nothing beats lazy days at home. I can spend hours by myself and still be happy. When alone I usually sleep or watch a movie/anime or practice my drawing or saxophone or try and learn something new!

I have a horrible memory and can never remember important dates 😭 I've forgotten my own birthday a few times (rip) so people can get mad at me for missing appointments, forgetting birthdays and other important days. I try my best to organize everything necessary on my phone calendar so I can be reminded.

I love seeing people happy! Nothing can fulfill my day more than knowing I put a smile on someone's face! I usually try my best to help out anyone who needs it and to the best of my ability! This has led to me getting taken advantage of in the past but I can't help but try and make others happy. I've developed a thicker skin and some trust issues as I've grown up because of it.

I love hyping my friends/family up!! Do you need a boost in confidence? Here I am, ready to help you remember the absolute king/queen/royalty that you are!! I'm usually very energetic and enthusiastic about many things and I love spreading positivity around!!

My love language is physical touch! So touch is very important to me in my relationships. Though I am insecure so I tend to think that I smother the people I care about with too much affection idk lol. I live for hugs and cuddles and hand holding 👉🏿👈🏿 but because of that I feel like I'm very clingy and annoying skskfksjd

I'm introverted in nature so although I mean usually full of energy and love making new friends, I can't do it for too long lol. My social battery runs out really fast and I have to hide away and recharge before I can be fully social again, otherwise I won't be my best self. I treasure personal time and understand when people need time for themselves too.

I love spontaneity!! I love living in the moment and doing stuff just for the hell of it!! Wanna go on a road trip? Dance in the rain? Build houses for charity? Go to McDonald's at 2am? Go on a long walk? SIGN ME UP!!

I can also be lazy and unmotivated to do stuff. If something doesn't interest me, I'd find myself incapable of doing it or I'd do it with great difficulty. I'm one of those 'do something when inspiration/motivation hits you otherwise it'll be absolute shit' types.

But when I do have motivation/inspiration that's when my perfectionism comes in and I have to do it in the best possible way and anything less is an insult to me, my family, my ancestors and descendants lmaoo. Unfortunately I subconsciously set a very high bar for myself which can be overwhelming and stressful but when I manage to produce work of that quality, it's very satisfying and rewarding jshkshdhsj

I have more to add but I feel like this is getting way too long 💀 lemme just move to the next section heheheh

Hobbies: I LOVE listening to music, learning new things, watching movies/anime, sleeping, reading, writing, playing saxophone (I'm still learning tho lol), swimming, drawing, journaling, making friends, and cooking!

My music taste: any type of rock (punk rock, grunge, j-rock, metal), pop, KPOP, RnB, jazz, dubstep, lofi hip hop, rap, trap, krnb, anime OP's and bangers from: Elvis, the beach boys, Queen, Khalid, Ateez, Harry styles, Kendrick Lamar, p!atd, mcr, fallout boy, Nirvana, BTS, mxmtoon, Marianas trench, twenty one pilots, stray kids, Jay Park, crush, Dreamcatcher, Skrillex, MJ, troye sivan etc

Fun facts:

I'm more of a cat person but I live dogs and think they're adorable!!

I have four piercings and I plan on getting more soon!!

I'm a night owl, and get super grumpy in the mornings especially when woken up unexpectedly >:/

Although I love making friends, I only have like 1/2 super close friends and like 20+ acquaintances lol

I want to get a tattoo soon but idk what to get :(

I'm super addicted to coffee (rip) and if I don't take some for some time (like a week) I'll get the worst migraines and I won't feel better until I drink some coffee 😭

That's it!! I hope i wrote enough stuff!! Did I leave anything out? If you need more pls tell me and I'll send another ask :D Take your time!! I'm in no rush. I'll patiently wait even though you get writers block or have a large amount of asks 😌 pls stay safe and healthy!! Drink lots of water, sleep well and have an amazing day/night!! 💙✨

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Journal of Feelings

- 3 am shenanigans

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I'd match you up with

Sugawara Koushi, Vice-captain of Karasuno

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Sun drops

- OKAY so like, as I read your description I thought of Akaashi or Yaku or Sugawara

- Me being the indecisive author I am had trouble picking

- But then I remembered that you loved to do spontaneous things.

- And that's when I realized that Sugawara is THE ONE

- You two would be deemed the "3 am couple"

- Or in the team it would be "Epitome of Chaos"

- He takes care of you

- He will alway remind you that you don't need to be perfect

- Insecurities? BE GONE

- Nagativity? BE GONE

- That's basically his motto

- He is both your mom and partner in Crime

- did I mention he will take care of you?

- CUDDLES AND KISSES FOR DAYS

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Journal of feelings

- Once this man realizes that you LOVE physical affection. He will give it to you. EVERYTIME HE SEES YOU

Kay entered the gym to watch her boyfriend play. She tried sneaking in and so far it has been great. She thought she was off the hook but then felt a familiar arms wrapped around her waist. "I found you~" Sugawara said with a smile.

- You both would often plan pranks and majority of the times, it would succeed

"Okay okay, so what are we doing today?" Kay asked the silver haired male. "Oh~ maybe we can scare Asahi or anyone for that matter with a beetle?" Sugawara suggested. "That's--no," Kay responded.

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3 am shenanigans

It’s 3 am in the morning. Almost everyone is fast asleep or in their homes, well almost. The night sky is littered with diamond in the sky. The streets were silent but it was comforting. A few people walked here and there. And a few cars passes by there and here. “What are we doing up so late?” A silver haired man said as he yawned. “We’ll be going to Mc Donald’s! What else?” The female responded as she smiled at him. “Is it even open at this time?” He asked. “Koushi, darling, it is open,” Kay, the lover of our beloved silvered male man said as she smiled. Sugawara chuckled and held her hand, the smile on his face was evident. “You know, we should be sleeping by now right?” He said as he pulled her closer. “And so what? I wasn’t planning on sleeping early! I slept the whole day yesterday and missed the chance to hang out with you,” The girl responded.

A small blush appeared on the male’s face and he giggled. “That’s very sweet bu-“ He was about to say but was silenced by the girl. “That was very sweet but we could’ve done this later on or tomorrow. Well, sorry to break it to you, Love. But, we are here,” She said as she pulled the male inside the fast food chain. And soon enough, the two got their orders and enjoyed their meal. “I don’t know why but this hits different,” Kay said as she eat a French fry. “It really does. Especially since you are here,” Sugawara stated as he patted her head. Now, she was the one blushing. As the two chatted, the other customers and staff glanced at them every now and then. None of them were annoyed at their interactions. On the contrary, they enjoyed watching them,

Some felt envious of their relationship. Some dreamt to have something like that. And others remembered the times of old. The two were so sweet, it’s almost too much. Laughter and chattering echoed through the building from both the couple and the people around them. Then they were dub the “3 am couple” as the two would often venture in that restaurant at 3 am in the morning.

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Author's note

I'm so so sorry for the long wait! This week has been hectic. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this matchup~ and thanks for requesting!

Symphogear S1- Now this is MY kind of anime!

Every once and awhile when I'd log onto Twitter, I'd see people saying "watch Symphogear" accompanied by images from the show. From looking at the pictures, I assumed it was just another magical girl show like Precure but with less magic and more... techno. Oh, and apparently they sing while they fight? Sounds kinda dumb...

Buuuut... I have heard that there's some yuri content? Maybe I'll give it a try. I mean, I'm always open to watching new stuff, even if it's just a silly little kid's show 😅

😳

Well........ color me hooked.

I have to say, this show is not at all what I was expecting in the best possible way. It feels a lot more like a Shounen action show along the lines of Fullmetal Alchemist or Neon Genesis Evangelion than a Magical Girl show (if that's even what it's supposed to be). Today, I'm going to be giving my first impressions of Senki Zesshou Symphogear season 1, which will be spoiler free for anyone who hasn't seen it yet.

Plot:

So what is Senki Zesshou Symphogear about?

In the not too distant future (next Sunday A.D.), Japan is under attack by monsters known as Noises, the likes of which cannot be killed by military weapons. The only thing that can kill them are girls clad in weaponized armor known as Gears, which is activated and powered by singing catchy techno-pop music.

One day, a girl named Hibiki Tachibana is caught in the middle of a battle, and one of the Gear users, Kanade Amou, sacrifices herself to save her. Two years later, Hibiki discovers that a piece of Kanade's Gear was embedded in her chest during the fight, giving her access to the Gear's powers. Hibiki is recruited by the Disaster Relief Squadron, the organization that created the Gears, to help defend Japan from the Noises.

However, Kanade's former girlfriend partner, Tsubasa Kazanari, sees Hibiki as nothing more than an obnoxious, naive girl trying to be Kanade's replacement. Will the two learn to work together, defeat the Noises, and possibly uncover a deeper plot to all the attacks?

Symphogear's plot might not be the most original thing ever; evil monsters attack, teenage girls transform into superpowered warriors to fight them, evil mastermind tries to take over the world, etc. But what makes this story stand out is it's unique approach to the fights. Having the Gears be powered by music, resulting in every fight being accompanied by a song, is either a genius way to amplify the fights, or a genius way for the producers to sell a techno soundtrack.

I was worried that the constant use of insert songs would become repetitive and annoying, but on the contrary, they heightened my enjoyment! The fights in Symphogear are easily my favorite part of the show: fast-paced, badass powers, lots of screaming, and downright brutal at times! Hibiki has officially joined the ranks of my all-time favorite battle cries, right up there with Goku from DBZ and Souma from Kannazuki no Miko.

If there was one thing I had to nitpick, it would be that most of the fights take away the credibility of the Noises. They're supposed to be this terrifying threat to Japan that can't be harmed by the military, but as soon as the Gear wielders show up, they're reduced to nothing more than cannon fodder as Hibiki and her comrades seem to waltz through them without breaking a sweat.

Thankfully, the versus matches between Gear wielders are much more balanced. My favorite has to be Hibiki vs Chris (see above), but then again, any fight with Chris is an absolute win!

Characters:

Hibiki Tachibana

Hibiki is your typical genki girl protagonist: optimistic, hyperactive, naive, and pure. What makes her a more compelling hero, however, is her slow growth into becoming a strong Gear wielder. Unlike most magical girl protagonists, who seem to master their powers after one line of "EH?! What just happened to me?!", Hibiki takes time to learn how to fight. She starts out with the mindset that she has to be Kanade's replacement and thus tries to fight just like her. However, she eventually comes to invent her own battle tactics that work much more in her favor. Mainly, punching the everloving shit out of everything in sight.

Hibiki is, in my opinion, a flat character done right. She doesn't go through any personal growth or development throughout the show (learning to fight doesn't count), but her belief that all humans can get along if they communicate and desire to protect people just because she wants to is the cause for most of the change in the people around her. The world is in a dark place, and Hibiki is the light. She doesn't need to change, because she's exactly what the world needs.

Tsubasa Kazanari

From what I've learned, Tsubasa is a favorite amongst Symphogear fans. Me personally, though, I have a few issues with her character. Now, I have nothing against brooding, damaged characters. In fact, Tsubasa's recovery from Kanade's death and learning to cherish her own life was incredibly engaging... for the most part. Sorry, but I can only take so much edge. Her constant repitition of "I am a sword, I exist only to fight" grew old after the first 10 or so times.

Also, while I love her overall development, I feel that her acceptance of Hibiki was a little rushed. For the first four episodes, she hates Hibiki for carrying Kanade's Gear to the point where she tries to fight her to the death. Then, after another fight sends her into a coma, she has a (extremely gay) hallucination of Kanade telling her to get over herself. Next episode, she's treating Hibiki as if they've been friends the whole time. Did I miss something? Did Hibiki even apologize for saying she wanted to replace Kanade? Did Tsubasa apologize for trying to shishkabob her?!

Development aside, her fighting style is awesome and unique, and leads to the best choreography in the show. Hopefully as I watch more seasons, my opinion of her will improve.

Chris Yukine

Best Girl. No questions. Anyone who disagrees is wrong. Deal with it.

Jokes aside, Chris is my favorite character of the show bar none. Maybe I just have a weakness for evil-turned-good characters, but I adored her "don't take no shit from nobody" attitude and her soft side emerging as the show progressed. And let me tell you, Tsubasa would have no right to brood if she knew what Chris went through as a child. I won't give anything away, but just a few brief images and harsh words were enough get the picture across and tug at my heartstrings.

She also had my favorite Gear and fighting style in the show. If there's one thing that always gets my blood pumping, it's gatling guns and an endless supply of missiles. Seriously, I could watch this girl fight for hours.

Kanade Amou

A moment of silence, ladies and gentlemen.

......

Kanade would be my favorite character if we had gotten more of her. But alas, she has to die in the very first episode. DAMN YOU, PLOT!!!

Even though we get very little of Kanade, she makes it her mission to leave a lasting impression. Her sacrifice at the beginning sets the tone for the rest of the show, and her flashback is the best of the bunch. I got hard chills when she transformed for the first time. Let's just say she's psychotic in all the right ways.

Kanade died for our sins. Remember that... 🙏

Finé

Our main villain of the show. That's it. There's really nothing much else to her. She's cruel, manipulative, and powerful beyond belief, as most big bosses of these kinds of shows are. She was honestly my least favorite part of the show.

Fine's motivation is incredibly confusing on first watch. I had to go back to pause and read the subtitles multiple times to understand her backstory, but maybe that's my fault for being a slow reader. On the other hand, the explanation as to who she is and why she's so powerful comes right out of nowhere and doesn't seem to connect to anything the story had been building up to that point. Also, by the time I understood her motivation and actually found it a little intriguing, she dropped the dreaded "I'm going to take over the world" line. Aaaaand.... all my interest just went out the window.

There is a twist involving her connection to a certain other character in the show that I genuinely didn't see coming, but in the end, it wasn't nearly enough to make up for her shortcomings.

Miku Kohinata

God bless this little angel. Miku is a precious cinnamon roll who must be protected at all costs. Thankfully, Hibiki's got it covered 👍

Words cannot express how much I love this girl. She may be only a supporting role for the time being, but good lord, does she support! It always broke my heart whenever she tried to spend time with Hibiki or talk to her, but the Disaster Relief Squad kept pulling them apart. I know DRS is classified, but Miku deserves better than to have secrets kept from her! Life sucks when your girlfriend best friend is a superhero...

Well, that was a mouthful. There's a lot more characters in this show, but I don't really have much to say about them. However, while we're on the subject of Miku, let's move on to the reason I checked this show out in the first place, and the reason I'm sure most of you read my stuff.

Yuri:

No sooner did I finish this show did I start looking up HibiMiku fanart 😍

I was expecting a fair dosage of yuribait going into Symphogear, but mother of all that is gay, did I get an overdose!

First and foremost, the main ship: HibiMiku. These two are dating. Nothing anyone says will change my mind. They compliment each other perfectly, with Hibiki's energy and Miku's sweetness... HHNNNGGH! IT'S TOO PRECIOUS! I sincerely hope these two get more time together in the next few seasons. Now if only they'd stop with the damn F word...... 😡

Next up, TsubaKana. This one seems more like it was one-sided feelings on Tsubasa's part, judging by how dedicated Kanade was to fighting the Noise. Regardless, you don't just lose all sense of your humanity and self-worth after your "partner" dies. And all that hardcore blushing in the flashbacks and naked cuddling dream sequences... nah, Tsubasa was hella hot for Kanade. Sadly, our lord and savior was taken from Ms. Brooding too soon.

Finally, there's Ryoko Sakurai, the DRS's head scientist. She was initially hinted to be gay, what with her being all too eager to have Hibiki undress and wanting to "pop her cherry" (yes, an adult said that to a 15 year-old). However, after a certain conversation occurred, it seemed more like she was straight or at least bisexual, if all that dirty talk wasn't just teasing.

I've heard future seasons introduce more potential couples, so I'm keeping my eyes open and my yuri goggles on tight 😋

Conclusion:

I enjoyed the first season of Senki Zesshou Symphogear through and through. As someone who enjoyed Akanesasu Shoujo and Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka, I have a soft spot for shows about badass girls kicking monster ass and unleashing their inner yuri. Overall though, I think Symphogear might be my favorite of the bunch so far. It has its fair share of flaws, sure, but I think its positives outweigh the negatives by a long shot. If I got this much enjoyment out of the first season, I cannot wait to see what the following seasons have to offer!

Symphogear delivers a fun, action-packed story with colorful characters, kickass fight scenes, head-banging music and plenty of yuri content. Anyone who loves Magical Girls or Shounen battle shows needs to check it out!

Rating: 8/10

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go binge Symphogear G. See you next time, my fellow yuri lovers!

Could I request a scenario with Law’s s/o trying to protect him during the fight with Doflamingo (where he already got his arm severed of and all). Like she knows that she doesn’t’ stand a chance against him, but tries to stop Doflamingo from attacking Law any further. Then she turns to Law and says something like "Hey Law, I love you. Please don't forget that." (so like the same words Corazon used). I'll let you take it from there but with a happy end please ^^

I’m sorry that it took so long boo :( I hope you enjoy

Law’s girlfriend protecting him from Doflamingo scenario

He told her, didn’t he? How fruitlessit was for her to come with him. How she should have stayed atthe ship. How she should have went to Zou with the other Strawhats.But no, no matter what he said- (Y/N) refused to listen to his voiceof reason.

„If you put your life on the linethen it’s only right if I do the same!“

Law knew. Ever since the two startedtheir relationship (Y/N) has been nothing but compassionate, caringand affectionate. And those were the exact things that could cost herher life now. But if there was a way for him to change that, to giveher a chance of staying alive, Law would do whatever it might take.He didn’t care about hurting her feelings in this moment, he onlycared about keeping her safe. And everyone knew that where he wasgoing, only death awaited.

Once he announced the change of plansand that they would keep Caesar he made it clear how much moredangerous the mission just got. Directly clashing with Doflamingo and his executives often causes death and grief, and always on his opponent’s side. But despite knowing that, (Y/N) stillinsisted on staying at Law’s side.

„I would never forgive myself ifsomething would happen to you and I wouldn’t be there to help or prevent it.“

She was no match against any of theexecutives, much less Doflamingo himself. So why did she insist oncoming along to the palace? And why didn’t Strawhat support him andstop her? But then again, if she didn’t want to listen to herboyfriend, then why would she give a damn about what some random pirate says?

At first Law thought about using his room to gether somewhere safe, but knowing (Y/N) she probably would try to return or- even worse- get caught by one of Doflamingo’s underlingsand be killed on the spot. Not to mention that Law had to saveevery last bit of energy for his final confrontation against the manhe loathed so much.

„And even if I can only buy you a fewseconds to rest before you jump right back into battle, it will beworth it!“

And thus, with no other option left, he ended up agreeing. She couldstay, as long as she didn’t directly interfere. He also told her thatif one of Flamingo’s minions would attack her he couldn’t come to her rescue because he had to focus on bringing down Doflamingo. She nodded in agreement and for a split second, Law thought that maybe both of them could get out of this alive. Butthe moment they reached the enemy, things went from bad to worsewithin seconds. Strawhat was reluctantly defending himself from whatseemed to be one of Doflamingo’s former underlings, but Law had notime to worry about that. If Strawhat can’t defeat a mere pawn ofDoflamingo then he would never stand a chance against the monster himself.

And even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help Strawhat out, notnow that his goal was right in front of him.

And so Law started his final duelagainst Doflamingo, while everything else around him started to fadeaway. He just blocked it out. (Y/N)’s form fused with the unmoving scenery behindhim, he paid no mind to her. If Law allowed himself to getdistracted, even for just a mere second, his life would be over. Hewas no fool, he knew that.

„I want to always be by your side. Evenwhen we’re facing defeat. I don’t care.“

The fight seemed to play out to hisadvantage at first, when suddenly Doflamingo turned the tables on him.Mere seconds. It couldn’t have been any longer, and his loathed enemyhad the upper hand again. Law cursed Doflamingo under his breath as he tried to avoid the next attack, but to no avail. Suddenly, an enormous painstarted to run through his arm and everything got more and more blurry. Everything, exceptfrom Doflamingo’s toothy grin, and his own terrified reflection staring right back and him from the wretched man’ssunglasses.

„Hey, Law?“

His vision went dark for only a second,but when he opened his eyes again the worst scenario imagineable seemedto unfold right in front of him- (Y/N), protectively standing betweenhimself and Doflamingo, her arms widely spread in an uselessattempt to protect her loved one. Doflamingo grinned at her whileletting out a dark chuckle and raising his hand, preparing to attack the defenseless woman in front of him. „How adorable. Your little girlfriend, I take it? I’m sure capturing and torturing her in front of you would cause me greatpleasure, but we’re kind of on a schedule here.“ Time seemed toslow down as Doflamingo raised a single finger. „Sorry sweetheart, butyou’ll have to go now.“ (Y/N) turned her head around to look atLaw, with her expression radiating love and sadness.

„I love you. Please don’t forgetthat.“

His skin turned cold and his eyesfilled with shock and grief. Was he really going to lose anotherloved one to the hands of Doflamingo?

no. No. NO.

No matter the cost, Law would NOT allowit.

And so the last thing (Y/N) saw was Lawthrowing himself in front of her while Doflamingo grinned madly downat them, preparing to send both lovers to their graves. And then, hervision went black.

Warmth. Comfort. Those were the nextthings the young woman felt. But… was death supposed to be warm andcomforting? No. It wasn’t the embrace of death she felt. She knewthis feeling. This feeling of comfort, this feeling of warmth…This feeling of love. Without opening her eyes, (Y/N) inhaled deeply. There. That smell.She knew that smell.

„…Law?“

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her visionwas still blurry, but there was no denying what she saw- Law’s body,snuggled up right against hers. And it was radiating warmth. He was alive. A feelingof intense relief started to spread through her entire body as shewatched her boyfriend’s chest rise in a steady rhythm. His body wascovered in bandages, and so was hers- but they did it. They survived.And if they survived, this must mean that Doflamingo fell. Lawfinally fullfilled his long wish at last. Tears invaded her eyes asshe gently caressed her boyfriend’s hair, while enjoying the quite andcalm atmosphere around them, when suddenly, a voice cut through thesilence.

„(Y/N)?“

Suprised at hearing her boyfriend’svoice, (Y/N) looked at his face but his eyes were still closed tight.She waited a couple seconds, but nothing happened. Maybe it was justmy imagination, she thought and closed her eyes again, preparing tofall asleep once more, when she heard his voice again, much clearerthis time and the words he spoke made her heart skip a beat.

„I love you too. Don’t you forget that.“

Right. So. Might be mildly addicted to your 'Gods and Monsters' series. Definitely need an intervention, but I'll prolly ignore that anyway, so... anyway, can you do something with Zeus and Hera? I've always thought it was massively whack that the goddess of fidelity was with --according to Greek mythos--one of the biggest adulterers on Olympus. Definitely smelling a bit of an abusive relationship there, if you catch my drift... okay byeeeee

Hera, the young goddess of marriage and family, is onlyunfaithful to her husband once.

She seduces Zeus first, right as the war ends and they’re allpain and ash and thrumming with the excitement of victory. She smiles just soand touches his bloody chest, her hand pale against the dark copper of his skinand, and when he looks at her his eyes spark with the lightning he so easilycommands. She is named his wife that very night, her body littered with bruisesfrom his rough, eager hands, and she tells herself the bile at the back of herthroat tastes like victory.

She is queen of the gods. This is what she wants.

They’ve all claimed their domains and gone their separate ways,Demeter to the earth, Hades to the underworld, and Hestia to Olympus where theyplan to build their palace. But Poseidon still lingers. “Don’t you have an oceanto conquer?” she asks.

He looks at her, then behind her to where Zeus is busysketching plans for Olympus. “You don’t have to do this,” he says softly, “you –you can come with me if you want. Or I’m sure Hades would take you.”

Hera has no time for Poseidon and his soft heart. “I willonly belong to the best,” she says, tossing her head so her crown of curls fallover her shoulder. “You should go. You have work to do.”

“There are more important things than power,” he saysuncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot.

“No,” she says, “there aren’t.”

~

Hera would not mind Zeus’s women so much if they were notconstantly giving him children, something she has been unable to do.

She is an obedient wife. She does not turn her powersagainst him, and she’s tolerant of his mortals at first, but the longer she isempty of child the less patience she has. How can she be the goddess of familywithout one of her own?

Her spite gets in her way, and she hurls every kind ofobstacle and curse she can at the woman her husband lies with. At first he isangry with her, and bruises litter her throat and wrists. Then, as her wrathand powers grow, he is afraid of her. He watches her warily, sneaking to themortal realm when before he wouldn’t even try to hide it. He submits when shepins him to the bed and rides him hard, desperate for a child of his, desperateto fulfill the perfect image of wife and mother she’s built for herself.

No matter her magic, no matter how many times they lie together,Hera does not get with child.

She goes to Hestia, and her sister presses a hand to herstomach and purses her lips and says, “Must it be his child?”

Hera stares. She’s the goddess of marriage and family. Sheis not capable of infidelity. “I – I can’t.”

“Just once,” Hestia says, “the problem is not with you, norwith him, clearly. Only the combination of you both. Lie with any other man,and you will have your child.”

So Hera, just once, puts on a disguise and goes to themortal realm. She finds a man with skin darker than Zeus’s, a rich warm brownthat matches his soft eyes. She lies with him, and it hurts. He is kind andpatient and kisses the edge of her jaw, her shoulders, her navel. But to beunfaithful grates against her very nature as a goddess, and every moment isagony. He finishes, his mouth whispering kind things against her own, and sheleaves as soon as she can.

It works. She becomes round with child, and is happier thanshe’s been in a long time. She does not mind Zeus’s mortals, and he evenbecomes kinder while the baby grows inside of her. His hands become softer, andhe spends less time away from Olympus.

The baby is born, and Zeus is furious.

The child is too dark to be his, and he tears it from Hera’shands while she lies exhausted from the birth. “What do you care?” she cries,struggling to stand, “You have dozens of children. What does it matter if Ihave one?”

He holds the baby in one hand and grabs her jaw with theother, pulling her to her knees. “You are my wife,” he hisses, “the goddess of marriageand family. You will have my child, or no child at all.”

He throws the baby from Mount Olympus. Hera screams, pushingherself away from him and attempting to jump after it. Zeus catches her aroundthe waist, and with a crackle of power and roar of rage, he sends a lightningbolt after the baby.

The child may have survived the fall, but not the lightning.

“NO!” Hera screeches, clawing at his arm as she struggles toescape his grasp. Normally she’s not this helpless against him, but deliveringher baby has left her weaker than she’s ever been before.

He presses the flat of his hand against her swollen womb,adding pressure until she cries out in pain and tries to squirm away from him. “Mychild,” he repeats, voice low and terrible, “or no child at all.”

He lets her go, and she collapses, grasping out a hand overthe edge of Olympus. But the blood between her thighs is still wet, and she can’tfind the energy to stand. She wonders if she’ll have to crawl down the mountainto retrieve her baby’s corpse.

“Sister!” Soft hands grab her shoulder and gently roll heronto her back. Hestia’s face fills her vision, and Hera has never seen theolder goddess of hearth and fire look so cold. “I’ll kill him,” she says, handshovering over Hera like she’s not sure where to begin. “I’m so sorry. I didn’tthink this would happen, I didn’t think he would – I didn’t think.”

Hera curls on her side until she can place her head in hersister’s lap. She’s not sobbing anymore, she’s never been one to fall intohysterics, but she can’t stop crying, a steady stream of tears drippingsilently down her face. Hestia runs trembling hands through her hair. “Don’t,” shewhispers, “I did this, this is my fault. I – I should have known better.”

Hestia’s hand cup her face, leaning over so she can look herin the eye. “This is not your fault.”

Her sister stands and picks her up in her arms. Hera triesto tell her to put her down, that Zeus will be angry if she leaves, that shedid this to herself. But she falls unconscious before she can get any of itout.

~

Hera awakens someplace soft and warm. She opens her eyes,and she’s inside Hades’s palace. Her confusion lasts only until her memoriescome rushing back, and then she has to bite her lip until it bleeds to stopherself from crying out.

“Hestia brought you here. She’s returned to Olympus to coverfor you both. Do not worry – Zeus doesn’t know where you are.” She turns herhead, and sees the goddess of magic at her side. Hecate smiles, “I have mendedyou, do not worry. All is well.”

All is not well.That statement is so far from true, and her instant urge is to crush Hecate todust for the audacity. Before she can make up her mind one way or the other,there’s a soft knock on the door. It opens to reveal her elder brother. “I havesomething that belongs to you,” he says, and Here focuses on the bundle in thecrook of his elbow.

Her baby’s corpse. She’s relieved someone thought to get it.Her heart feels like lead, and all the control she’d had over her emotions isgone instantly. She hopes they’ll leave her alone to hold the body of her childand weep.

Hades gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, and Hecate risesto help Hera prop herself up so she’s at least sitting. “He’s a strong littlething,” Hades says, and Hera doesn’t understand.

Then a warm, wriggling baby is placed in her arms. He’s gotgreat big eyes and his mouth splits into a toothless grin when he sees her. “He’salive,” she says numbly.

“Not without sacrifice,” Hecate says softly, and reachesover to undo the blanket he’s swaddled in.

Her son has no legs below his knees.

“Zeus’s lightning bolt didn’t kill him, but we cannot returnwhat was lost,” Hades says, pained. “When he’s older, maybe we can dosomething, give him something in place of legs. But for now, there’s nothing Ican do.”

The king of the underworld is the most powerful god afterher husband. Hera knows that, even if Zeus doesn’t. If Hades can’t do anything abouther son’s legs, then no can. But he’s alive, Zeus didn’t manage to kill him,and Hera finds herself so grateful that she’s holding a smiling, living childthat she can’t be anything but relieved. Her son is alive, and happy. He doesn’tneed legs.

“I can’t bring him back to Olympus,” she looks up at them, “Canyou find someone to raise him? Someone you trust?”

She doesn’t trust anyone, so it can’t be her choosing.

“You’re going backto him?” Hecate demands, “Hestia said – but I thought for sure – you don’t haveto! Don’t go back to him!”

“I must,” she holds her son to her chest, and he reaches outwith chubby hands to tug at her hair. “I am the goddess of marriage, and he ismy husband.”

Hecate stares, aghast. “Don’t – don’t, Hera. Please. Stayhere. Hades will protect you.”

She looks up at her brother, and he raises an eyebrow. Hewould protect her, he would put himself in between her and Zeus’s wrath if sheasked him to. But she won’t, and she thinks he knows it. She says, “I am Heraof the Heights, of Argos, of the Mound. I am the cow eyed, white armed goddessof marriage and of family. I am Hera, queen of the gods.” She looks down at herson, and her heart clenches, because for now a title that cannot be afforded toher is that of mother. “I will not abandon my dominion, nor my husband. I willreturn to Mount Olympus.”

“But you don’t love him,” Hecate says helplessly.

Hera stares, baffled that anyone could think her marriage hadanything to do with love. “Of course not. But this isn’t about love. It’s aboutpower.”

The goddess of magic swallows, then says, “I will raise him.”

Even Hades is surprised by that. “Hecate?”

“I will raise him,” she repeats, “He will stay with me, safein the underworld where Zeus cannot find him, until he’s old enough and strongenough to protect himself.”

“Thank you,” Hera says, and lowers her head enough to kissthe top of her son’s head. “Tell him that I’m the one that threw him fromOlympus.” When she looks up, Hades is resigned while Hecate looks on in horror.“Tell him, tell everyone. I gave birth to a hideous son, and I threw him fromOlympus. His legs were crushed in the fall. I did this. Zeus tried to stop me,but could not.”

“Why?” Hecate asks.

Hera smiles down at her son, her heart full with a helplesssort of love. “So that when he ventures from the safety of the underworld, Zeuswill have no reason to hurt him. So that when he comes to Olympus, Zeus will beunable to hurt him without explaininghe was the one that tried to kill him in the first place.” She runs the back ofher finger down his cheek, and he grabs it, his little fist holding onto her. “Blameme, and he will be safe.”

Hecate looks like she wants to argue. Hades puts a hand on hershoulder and asks Hera, “What’s his name?”

Her son smiles, and tugs at her hand, the beginnings of agiggle gurgling in his throat.

“His name is Hephaestus.”

~

When she returns, she no longer has any patience for Zeus’smortals. When before she had only inconvenienced them, now she’s not playingany games. Those that do not die end up wishing they had, and she’s especiallyvindictive to any mortal carrying her husband’s child.

She sits on her throne, waiting, a smirk curled around thecorner of her lips.

Zeus barges in and charges towards her. He’s so angry smokeis rising off his skin. “You,” he hisses, “this is your doing.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asks, unflinching when he slamshis hands on either side of her head, crushing the back of her throne with theforce of it.

“She and the children are dead,” he snarls, “my children are dead! I know this isyour doing, it reeks of your handiwork.”

Hera slides forward to the edge of her throne, their facesnearly touching, and spreads her legs. He flexes his hands, because even at hismost furious he still wants her. She is his wife and his queen. She banishesher clothing so she’s spread out before him, hair piled high and jewelryglinting around her neck. “What are you going to do about it?”

He kisses her hard enough to bruise, and Hera crosses herlegs around his back, urging him closer. “Why are you doing this?” he hisses,mouthing at her neck, because he hates her even as he loves her, hates herbecause he loves her, and loves her because he hates her.

She waits until he’s inside her to lick the shell of his earand whisper, “My child, or no child at all, husband.”

When he breaks her skin with his teeth, she only laughs.

They do this to each other. Maybe they are meant to betogether.

gods and monsters series part xv

read more from the gods and monsters series here

[80's theme playing] [man] Neo Yokio is the greatest city in the world. It is the most populous urban agglomeration in North America, but its prestige does not merely stem from its size. From Bronx prefecture to the aquatic elegance of Battery Park, Neo Yokio is a diverse labyrinth of cultural and architectural innovation. No wonder we play host to many of the planet's most prestigious events. Of course, whenever a city becomes the envy of the world, problems are bound to arise. In the 18th century, the first wave of demonic attacks wreaked havoc on Neo Yokio. From origins unknown, hateful creatures sought to destroy the city on a mass scale. In a stroke of genius, Neo Yokio's then mayor, Theodore Corelli, invited the exorcists of the old world, peasant practitioners of the dark arts, colloquially known as Rat Catchers to become citizens. [rats squeaking] In exchange for their citizenship, these exorcists used their talents to save the city. Many of the descendants are now part of Neo Yokio high society, adding to our rich cultural tapestry. Although demonic threats have been greatly minimized, you will still be subject to search and questioning at our discretion. Please have your documents ready and welcome to Neo Yokio. [Charles] Sir, I almost forgot. Your watch is fixed. I picked it up this afternoon. [Kaz] It's been three weeks, and I still can't believe she's really gone. My one true love is now living the glamorous life of an investment banker in San Francisco, while I remain in Neo Yokio haunted by her memory. In happier times, I watched her play on this very court. [sighs] No doubt she's found a new tennis club by now. Sir, I understand that matters of the heart are mysterious and profound, but destroying a 1919 Cartier Tank is a bit, well imprudent. Hell, yeah, it is. That's a dope-ass watch. [sighs] Hey, Lexy. Hey, Gottlieb. - You gotta sack up. - Tonight's the big field hockey match against the East Side Gentlemen. You're out here like a pound puppy. Sorry, guys, but I can barely navigate the hellish vortex between breakfast and dinner, let alone the labyrinth of the field hockey field. - What are you saying, dawg? - I'm saying I'm not playing in tonight's field hockey championship. The whole season's been building up to this match! We gotta teach those old money fuckboys a lesson! You can't give Arcangelo the satisfaction, B. Win, lose we'll all be equal in the grave. [woman grunts] Sir, we really should get going. I told you to clear my schedule. I'm grieving the death of a relationship. I understand, but the reservation is in 15 minutes. I'm simply too blue for lunch. I would strongly advise against incurring the wrath of Aunt Agatha, sir. [groans] Fine. Let's go. See you, Lexy. See you, Gottlieb. So, we'll see you at the game? We're counting on you, Kaz! [Kaz sighs] God, I miss Cathy. - She loved ice cream. - [Charles] Come, sir. There's always a silver lining. Now that you're single, your name's officially on the Bachelor Ranking Board in Times Square. It's an honor to top the Bachelor Board, but it's an honor I dream not of. Well, sir, you're not quite at the top. I'm number two? Two is a rather prestigious number. Two is the loneliest number, Charles. Especially when you're second to a jackass. Why are you late? Don't you have a watch? Who cares what time it is when the future's an interminable abyss of wackness? Kaz, you're not a gentleman of leisure like those other uptown buffoons. You can't just drink Americanos and watch tennis all day. - You have work to do. - Aunt Agatha, I'm well aware that I'm We are members of the magistocracy. You are a magistocrat. You have a sacred duty to protect the city as well as our family name. Never forget the tremendous odds your ancestors overcame to establish the family in Neo Yokio. Aunt Agatha, Cathy left me. And I'm sorry if I'm disgracing the family, but I'm depressed. [laughs] Ha. Cathy? [sighs] Did you really think it would work out with an East Side girl? Well, why wouldn't it? Because however many times we save the city, however elegant we become, in their eyes, we will always be neo riche, just a bunch of Rat Catchers. Don't say that, Aunt Agatha. Oh, grow up. You're old enough to see the world as it really is. Now, listen, I've heard some wonderful news from Lady Three Jane this morning. Helena Saint Tesoro is possessed! Helena Saint Tesoro? The fashion blogger? - Perhaps the greatest of the modern era. - Damn, I haven't see her since Freddie Miles threw that crazy party out in the Hamptons. She's possessed? That sucks. Focus, Kaz. Her family's in dire need of our help. I have arranged for you to go exorcise her this afternoon. Aunt Agatha, I don't have the emotional energy to do anything tonight. Even if I did, the guys are expecting me at the field hockey match. [bangs table] Wicked boy, don't you understand? If you refuse to perform your duties, there is no field hockey, no more gentleman's club dues, no more extravagant rent. You need to work to support your wretched lifestyle. Now, eat your tiramisu. I've lost my appetite. You know, Charles, buying a new suit is the only good thing about having to work. You are a true master, sir. Watching you shop purely by touch is inspiring. Welcome back, Mr. Kaan. So good to have you in the store. And congratulations on your recent appearance - on the Bachelor Board. - Oh, thanks. How are the new suits feeling? Anything else I can help you with? New pair of Margiela field hockey trainers for the big match? Actually, I don't think I'll be playing tonight. What? I've been waiting for this game all season. Sorry to disappoint you, salesclerk, but the universe is dictated by forces far greater than field hockey. I'm sorry, I'm I'm just such a sports nut. Well, you're in luck, my friend, because a real sportsman has just entered Bergdorf's. Oh, Arcangelo. I'd recognize your shitty voice anywhere. Oh, look. It's Neo Yokio's second most eligible bachelor. [laughing] Look at you, trying to class yourself up with a new suit? You'll need more than that to take the top spot from me. You can keep the top spot. I honestly couldn't care less about that stupid list. Gentlemen, please don't fight. It is an honor to have the number one and number two bachelors in our store today. You are both elegant gentlemen and excellent field hockey players. Please, allow me to show you to your dressing rooms. So, I hear you're gonna chicken out on the game tonight. Fuck the game. I have a lot more on my mind these days. In fact, I have a very high profile and lucrative job tonight. Job? You mean, like, work? I am a magistocratic exorcist, and it's my sacred duty, you jackass. Sacred duty, what a joke. No wonder Cathy left you. You're just a neo riche loser. [laughing] I am not neo riche! [groans] [crashing] [grunts] You know what, Arcangelo? I will see you at that game tonight. And, salesclerk, I'll take the suit. [Charles] Sir, I don't see how you can make it to the job and the game. A teen exorcism can take all night. [Kaz] Didn't you see me back there? This exorcism will be a walk in the park. The Sea Beneath 14th Street brings back a lot of memories. Some happy but others, quite sad. [butler] Mr. Kaan, we've been expecting you. Right this way. [sobbing] Charles, who are these girls? These are Helena's biggest fans. - We're called Helenists, you herb. - She's our queen. Her blog is our bible. Neo Yokio's second most eligible bachelor in our home. [sighs] Thank you for coming. I'm so sorry to hear about Helena. How is she? Well, it's a tad awkward to talk about it because she seems a bit possessed. It's so out of character for her. She never cavorts with wraiths or demons. When did it start? Two days ago, she took a trip uptown with her friends to get a preview of the fall collections. The prime minister of Chanel presented her with a custom suit. What an honor. I know. But when she got home, she started feeling unwell. And the next day, she had become an entirely different person. We've always kept her so well-guarded. I can't imagine how this could've happened. Rest assured, your family's nightmare will be over in no time. Now, where is she? She's floating up in her bedroom. [Kaz] Hey, Helena, what's up? It's me, Kaz Kaan. So, this is kind of awkward. I haven't seen you since that party in the Hamptons at Freddie Miles' place. You know, when we hooked up. Uh, anyway, that's a dope Chanel suit. What's it made of, tweed? I'm a huge fan of fabrics. You mind if I touch it? Ow! Okay. Enough small talk. Let's do this. What happened? Is she cured? I'm sorry. No. She was totally immune to my charms. Well, get back in there and try again. There's nothing I can do. She's too powerful. This is outrageous. - I'm calling your aunt. - Could we leave Aunt Agatha out of this? Leave this townhouse at once. I don't get it. Why didn't my powers work on Helena? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sir, but it has taken a toll on your ranking. I'm behind Luke Silver-Greenberg? That's horrendous. It's always darkest before the dawn, sir. Shall we get you a giant Toblerone? Chocolate always cheers you up. No, Charles, I wanna visit the grave. [Charles] You've designed yourself a beautiful grave, sir. I'm gonna rest for a bit. [sniffs] I recognize that scent. Excuse me, old man, but what are you doing over there? Oh. I'm just tending to my wife's grave. Tending it with perfume? How odd. [chuckles] Might seem strange, but Babylon N°5 was her favorite perfume in the universe. Hmm. It's really not a very elegant perfume. It achieved global success, but in a marketplace far less crowded than today's. I believe a classic is a classic when talking about clothes, cars or watches, but scents need to change with the times, don't you agree? I never thought about it like that. Don't get me wrong. I'm very touched by your dedication to your dead wife, but perhaps her spirit would be cheered by a newer, more youthful perfume. Santal 33 perhaps? I could have my mecha whip you up a sample. [Charles] I have full fabrication abilities. [chuckles] Thank you, but she just loves her Babylon. You old folks are funny like that. You don't have the same understanding of style. The girls of my generation would never wear Babylon N°5. They prefer a less mainstream fragrance. Helena Saint Tesoro once wrote an essay about this. [sighs] I'm not familiar with her work. She's the greatest teen fashion blogger of the modern era. With her, everything has to be unique. Even her Chanel suit is a custom job. [man] Mm-hmm. In fact, she only received it a week ago. It wasn't subject to the same security procedures as other luxury items. It was open, it was vulnerable The perfect place for a demon to hide! Could it really be? Yes, Charles. The reason I couldn't exorcise Helena was because it wasn't her, but rather her suit that was possessed. Brilliant, sir. I know what to do now. Let's head downtown. There's still time! Sir, at this hour, the bubble traffic is horrendous. It could take us hours. To hell with it. Let's go express. [jets blasting] [in demonic voice] Look who's back. Very clever, possessing a Chanel suit. You knew a bespoke item was your only shot at getting to Helena. It was too easy. [laughing] You fools will never be safe. Your vanity ensures it. Karl Lagerfeld said vanity is the healthiest thing in life. God, you really are a herb. Behold the pale horse and prepare to meet the dark forces that lie beneath your precious city. [Kaz yells] Demon, be gone from the Chanel suit! Coco Chanel, may her memory be blessed. Helena, are you okay? Wake up! Wake up! [demon] Ha! You may have destroyed the suit, but you haven't destroyed me. Oh, no! [gasps] No! Helena! [panting] [breathes deeply] [grunts] [coughing] - [in normal voice] Kaz Kaan? - Hey, Helena. [chuckling] Oh, my God. I haven't seen you since Freddie Miles' party out in the Hamptons. That was a crazy night. Yeah, we had fun. I know. How come you never called me when we got back to the city? Well, you started dating Cathy. She actually just broke up with me. That's a shame. Yeah, it is. Well, maybe now I'll call you. That would be sick. [grunting] [cheering] [crowd gasps] The West Side Gentlemen are getting killed. If I was you, I'd pack it up and go home, West Side wimps. Time out! [grunts] [whistle blows] This is impossible, man. - Where's Kaz? - He didn't show up. He doesn't even care about field hockey anymore. Wait. [jets blasting] Is that him? I can't believe it! It's Kaz Kaan! Kaz, homey, you made it! Gentlemen, I'm sorry I'm late. As you know, I've been really depressed, and it's affected my attitude toward field hockey, but I'm here now, and I know we can beat these bastards. [all] Yeah! [whistle blows] [crowd cheering] [Arcangelo grunts] [Kaz groans] Yo, flagrant foul, man! Flagrant! It's a penalty shot for Kaz! This is a field for gentlemen. You should be selling popcorn in the stands, you peasant. A true gentleman excels in both work and leisure. [salesclerk] Heavens to Betsy, they're bringing in a ringer. [crowd murmuring] You see how diesel this goalie is? This shit is impossible. - No way the ball's getting past him. - No way. Good luck, Rat Catcher. [crowd cheering] [buzzer buzzes] I love sports! - Charles, play Vivaldi's concerto. - In D minor, sir? No. In E-flat major. Ah! Very good, sir. [Vivaldi's "Concerto in E-Flat Major" playing] [Kaz] I am Neo Yokio's most eligible bachelor. I am the proud scion of a storied and powerful family. This is my city, and I'm sworn to protect it. Yes, my girlfriend broke up with me to take a finance job in San Francisco, but I am still here in the greatest city in the world. Tomorrow, the cherry blossoms will bloom, the sun will shine. It is springtime in Neo Yokio, and life is worth living.

RIIN I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS

A supposedly fun thing I'll probably do forever

One of my favorite pieces of writing I've ever come across - perhaps my very favorite - was a lengthy essay that the late, great David Foster Wallace wrote a long time ago about tennis. Well, he wrote many. To be more specific, this one was entitled "Tennis Player Michael Joyce's Professional Artistry as a Paradigm of Certain Stuff about Choice, Freedom, Discipline, Joy, Grotesquerie, and Human Completeness"; it was originally commissioned by Esquire in 1995, later republished in his essay collection, "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again" in 1997 and popped up again on Esquire's website shortly after Wallace's death in 2008. In 2016, it found its way into another anthology, "String Theory: David Foster Wallace on Tennis," released in May.

It's odd that I hold this particular piece of writing so dear, as I've never really been into tennis, at least not as anything more than a casual fan. And if you ask most readers, his piece on Michael Joyce isn't even considered his good tennis piece; Wallace the tennis writer is much better known for his "Roger Federer as Religious Experience," which ran in The New York Times Magazine in 2006. That was a once-in-a-generation writing talent at the peak of his powers chronicling a once-in-a-generation tennis talent at the peak of his, and there's nothing quite like witnessing greatness and greatness converge. That's what gets me about "Tennis Player Michael Joyce," though. It's not about greatness at all. Michael Joyce retired with a career record of 46–67 and only once advanced past the second round of a Grand Slam tournament. Wallace didn't write about him to profile someone great; rather, he was exploring what it's like to be good-but-not-quite-elite at something. He was probing into that weird gray area between futility and immortality, and I've always been fascinated by what he found. To me, the most profound line in the piece has nothing to do with tennis, at least not specifically. It's more of a general musing. "You are invited to try to imagine what it would be like to be among the hundred best in the world at something," Wallace writes. "At anything. I have tried to imagine; it's hard."

In the summer of 1995, Michael Joyce was the 79th-best tennis player in the world. Wallace dedicated 9,800-some-odd words, not including his trademark bevy of footnotes, to exploring the essence of his 79th-ness. He focuses on one match in particular - played early in the qualifying rounds of the '95 Canadian Open between Joyce and a college kid named Dan Brakus, whom Wallace describes as "a very good tennis player." Brakus is good but overmatched. He can serve 118 miles per hour; Joyce, meanwhile, can return that serve and then stay two steps ahead of Brakus the rest of the way, perfectly reading the geometry of each shot and outmaneuvering him point after point. "It's like watching an extremely large and powerful predator," Wallace writes, "get torn to pieces by an even larger and more powerful predator."

Joyce, meanwhile, is just as overmatched if not far more so when he takes on a real world-class player - like, say, Andre Agassi. It becomes apparent after a while that Joyce is a bit obsessed with the superiority of Agassi, who was in the midst of a 30-week run as the world's No. 1 player at the time. The word "Agassi" shows up 46 times in Wallace's profile, remarkable given that the profile isn't of him. Joyce spends his entire life pursuing greatness at tennis, yet he remains keenly aware the whole time that there's someone else on another level entirely, a level that he'll never reach. "Every once in a while," Wallace writes, "Joyce will look over at his coach next to me in the player-guest section of the grandstand and grin and say something like, 'Agassi'd have killed me on that shot.'" You get the sense that everything Joyce does is calibrated against this impossible standard. It's unreasonable and maybe borderline insane to compare yourself to the world's No. 1 at anything when you're No. 79, but Joyce seems unable to help himself. Among the Dan Brakuses of the world, Joyce is a god, but he always seems to have one eye on the bigger names above him. He's hopelessly stuck in the middle, and he's devoted every fiber of his being to reaching that middle.

So.

I play Scrabble. This is something I've put a great deal of my time and energy into for the last decade; my 10-year anniversary is coming up in May. It's something I've gotten pretty good at, all things considered. Of the 161,293 entries in Collins Scrabble Words between two and nine letters long, I've learned damn close to all of them (though plenty fall through the cracks in my brain, often at inopportune times), and strategically, I've developed a pretty good sense of what I'm doing (though lapses happen, and they can be quite ugly). I try to be self-aware about my aptitude and skill for the game and to stay honest about my abilities without being arrogant or - arguably worse - falsely modest. Right now, I'm ranked as the 36th-best player on Earth. This feels right to me. I'm confident I can beat most everyone outside of the top 40 consistently; I'm also mindful of how thoroughly outclassed I still am by many of those above me. Like Michael Joyce, I'm stuck in the middle.

Over the last eight months, give or take, I've come to realize how frustrating it can be when you're stuck in that good-but-not-quite-elite zone in Scrabble. To wit, I've had a string of good-but-not-quite-elite finishes at big events, dating back to mid-2016. At the national championship, I ranked second with two rounds to play, needing just one win to hold onto that spot for good; I went 0-2 and slipped to fourth. At the world championship, eight players cracked the playoffs, and I was competing in the eighth-place game in the final round; I lost and fell all the way to 16th. At a pair of mid-major tournaments in December, I went to sleep on the final night in first place; both times, I woke up the next morning and was beaten back down to second. At another pair in March, I suffered blowout losses in the late rounds that knocked me out of contention. Outcomes like this hurt, but they're also par for the course in my position. When you're almost the best player but not quite, you're sure to have plenty of results that reflect that.

These results are painful in and of themselves, but they're made even more so by all the effort it takes to achieve them. Being good-but-not-quite-elite is hard. You have to be born with a certain degree of aptitude to reach that level, sure, but a whole lot more than 36 people on Earth have that aptitude. The other pieces of that puzzle are a lot of hard work, a lot of mental energy and, frankly, a quite deliberate rejiggering of one's priorities in life. It's hard (impossible?) to reach the almost-top level of Scrabble without diverting a good deal of time and focus away from other things that are probably far more worthwhile. All of this just to be 36th, reaping all of the sort-of-glory-but-not-really-glory that comes with that.

Wallace writes at length about this same problem manifesting in Michael Joyce - and more broadly, in everyone who plays tennis at the same level. He argues that in a way, the problem is all of our collective faults for creating this culture - one in which we praise players for their successes while largely ignoring the process that makes them possible.

"Americans revere athletic excellence, competitive success, and it's more than lip service we pay; we vote with our wallets. We'll pay large sums to watch a truly great athlete; we'll reward him with celebrity and adulation and will even go so far as to buy products and services he endorses. But it's better for us not to know the kinds of sacrifices the professional-grade athlete has made to get so very good at one particular thing. Oh, we'll invoke lush clichés about the lonely heroism of Olympic athletes, the pain and analgesia of football, the early rising and hours of practice and restricted diets, the preflight celibacy, et cetera. But the actual facts of the sacrifices repel us when we see them: basketball geniuses who cannot read, sprinters who dope themselves, defensive tackles who shoot up with bovine hormones until they collapse or explode."

To equate my own struggle with those of any of the athletes Wallace alludes to above would be foolish. Obviously. I'm no hero, and luckily I can read decently well and need no performance-enhancing drugs. But on a smaller, less dramatic scale, I understand the rhetoric there and can relate to it. I think a lot about my sacrifices. I think about what I could have done with all the hours I've spent studying dictionaries and analyzing games. I ponder the choices I may have made differently if I'd prioritized "real life" more and focused less on preparing for the next tournament. There were job opportunities I didn't bother to pursue because I wanted more time to study (and more freedom to travel to tournaments). There were, to be candid, romantic relationships I allowed to stagnate because I wasn't as focused on them as I could have been.

I don't have any regrets, per se. My life's decisions are what they are, and they've made me who I am. I like myself, mostly. But this stuff is still interesting to think about.

It resonates with me when Wallace goes into depth about the impact of the sacrifices the Michael Joyces of the world make - specifically, how they tend to narrow the individual's worldview and dull his personality. He references the "vapid and primitive" quotes that athletes give in postgame interviews as a symptom of this - sporting people speak in dull clichés, he argues, not because they're stupid, but because they've channeled their intelligence into one very specific thing. This makes them great at that thing, but at what cost? That's the question. Wallace describes this life choice as "consent to live in a world that, like a child's world, is very small." I find it hard to dispute this.

I submit that in Scrabble, this world is even smaller. At least on the tennis court, you're playing a game that has some sort of connective tissue with the outside world. Millions of people have played tennis at least semi-avidly and developed an understanding for its complexity. Millions have also watched Federer on TV and seen the awesomeness of his abilities. They know he's on another level because they've seen it firsthand. They've watched him work his magic and thought to themselves, "Wow, I could never do that." Scrabble is different because so few people in this world can (or, should I say, choose to) grasp or contextualize what it means to achieve expertdom. The work that goes in behind the scenes - the countless hours of studying and analyzing - is anonymous and thankless and understood by painfully few. There aren't many people who know the drudgery of reinforcing for the 87th time that the word in AEGIMNSV is VEGANISM, or poring over the results of 2-ply simulations and reasoning out why this play is better than that one. And why should they? It takes a lot of discipline to keep learning words and a lot of self-flagellation to continually question your strategic thinking and challenge yourself to improve. Sometimes, this journey is exhilarating; other times, it's just lonely.

It's not that nobody understands the highs and lows you go through - but those who do, you're trying to kick their asses. That's the paradox here. There aren't many people out there who can fully, empathetically understand what it takes to win at Scrabble, and there aren't many who genuinely feel 100 percent happy for you when you win. The number of people who fit in both categories at once is mighty close to zero. So who are you playing for? Who, if anyone, are you trying to impress?

When describing the scene of a Canadian Open qualifying match, played between the world's 79th-best player and someone else below that level, Wallace writes that "The applause of a tiny crowd is so small and sad and tattered-sounding that it'd almost be better if people didn't clap at all." This sentence is depressing but wonderfully written, and it feels applicable across the board. It might be the Qualies in Montreal or Table 4 at the Nationals - the logic works just the same.

The difference is that the guy in the Qualies is playing for a chance to graduate from the Qualies and be something more. Wallace makes a point of the fact that even some of the all-time great tennis players began their careers in those sad, seemingly inconsequential play-in matches - even Pete Sampras, before he became Pete Sampras, had to compete at the Qualies level at first. There's a sense of satisfaction, I imagine, that tennis players feel when they make that climb from good to transcendent. But in Scrabble, what is there to transcend? Even if you're Nigel Richards - and last I checked, only one person alive is he - what are you fighting for? To prove to a small cadre of people who have mastered something that you've mastered it even better?

Plenty of people have given compelling reasons why they play. They play because they love the game and they love the people in it. The enjoyable gameplay and enduring friendships keep them coming back. That's all well and good, but it's not what I'm asking. There's why you play, and there's why you compete. They're two entirely different questions. That might seem to some like a small distinction, but it's one that's changed my life.

There's no shortage of past top players who have walked away because they've hit a wall and lost the desire to continue competing. One famously wrote in the early 1990s that he was quitting because "there's little satisfaction in beating someone whom one should beat regularly." More recently, one expert penned that "There are virtually no extrinsic motivators in Scrabble" while walking away; another quipped that "It's a law of diminishing returns," putting in more and more time to make less and less progress up the ladder. All of these are valid complaints, and compelling reasons to give the game up.

Me, I acknowledge all of the above statements to be true - and yet for some perverse reason, I use them to justify why I'm still here. A shrink would have a field day with this. Even though the games start to blur together and the results often feel proforma, I keep playing. Even though there's very little to keep motivating me - and almost certainly not enough to justify the amount of time I put in - I keep working at it. Why? I'm really not sure. At the risk of begging the question, playing Scrabble is what I do because it's what I do. I've come this far over the last 10 years, and turning back just doesn't feel right. I've already irreparably warped my life to center it around this dumb game; I might as well make the most of this bizarre situation.

At the end of his long essay, after a brief interlude to reflect on watching a few of tennis' bigger names like Jim Courier and Michael Chang and Mats Wilander, Wallace returns to his discussion of Michael Joyce. His closing paragraph describes Joyce as "a complete man, though in a grotesquely limited way." He asserts that "already, at twenty-two, it's too late for anything else; he's invested too much, is in too deep. I think he's both lucky and unlucky. He will say he is happy and mean it. Wish him well."

Those last three words - "wish him well" - have always haunted me a bit. It's unclear whether they're meant as a statement of Wallace's personal sentiment (as in, "I wish him well") or an imperative to the reader ("You should wish him well"). Wallace weaves back and forth between the personal narrative and the persuasive argument, and I've never been sure of what note he closes on here. But no matter. The point is that when you devote seemingly your whole life to a given pursuit, be it tennis or Scrabble or whatever else, it has a strange way of making your life feel both complete and incomplete. It's immensely gratifying yet intensely painful. At this point, I think that's the feeling I'm stuck with. Wish me well, if you care to. I'm not sure what difference it will make. I plan to continue on, until I inevitably someday collapse or explode. Or, you know, maybe something a bit less apocalyptic. We'll see.