#it was so sunny! felt like a proper may day

[whalelotofstudy]

2023/5/1

It feels weirdly good to print out my notes! I have only three subjects left now.

#studyblr #whalelotofstudy #studying #studyspo #study notes #geology #it was so sunny! felt like a proper may day

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Ticking Love Bomb (Part One) || Eleventh Doctor × gn!Reader

Part 1...

Summary: Your adventure with the Doctor and the Ponds takes a harsh turn when it seems you're targeted with a potion. A love potion, specifically the type where you fall in love with whoever's eyes you met first after "drinking" it. But what if you're already in love with him?

TWS: aliens, space, references of guns, smoke, unrequited love (but not really), self sacrificial attitudes, and purely oblivious people. Also, just a touch of angst (typical of a love confession).

A/N: This is a lil angsty so be ready!!! Enjoy :)

The room was filling with a sort of pink gas, at least it looked pink. Maybe like a salmon color?

The walls were bland, white and tall, and the lights were fluorescent. If you didn't know any better, you would've assumed you were in a hospital of some kind.

"Uh, Doctor… What-" you spoke watching as the gas pooled in around your feet, "What is that?"

He paused, taking a few sniffs, and mumbling to himself before answering, "A potion. They must-"

He stopped, eyebrows drawn in confusion, "Well, they must not know who I am, this won't work on Gallifreyans. It's kind of like that one poison that just makes us sleep for a few centuries but could turn a human to dust-"

"Doctor," you interrupted, hand placed on his shoulder to shake him out of his mind, "-as much as I love a bit of rambling, now's really not the time."

"Right," he corrected, straightening up and glancing around the room (for an escape you assumed), "-I don't see-"

"Hello, my doves," a voice boomed through the room, bouncing off the terribly empty walls, "-having fun yet, are we?"

It was prim and proper, a thick accent in a tone you recognized as 'all-knowing'. She seemed to be readily in control of the situation, and the Doctor… didn't seem to have a clue.

"What is it? What is she filtering in here?"

"Well," he answered, peering at the gas which was now at mid-calf, "-I'm not entirely sure. My best guess is it's a mix of potions, hastily made based on the composition. There's no real proper composure to it, an amateur is the most suspect. Or maybe someone who just wants results?"

"Doctor," you groaned, your fingers starting to swirl the pink around you, "-what is it and how will it affect me?"

"Human, right," he blinked, looking at you solidly for a moment, before turning down to his sonic, watching it buzz, "-I'll see what components are in it and that should-"

He stopped mid-sentence, body frozen and eyebrows furrowed even more, and… was he- was he blushing?

"You must understand now?" The voice continued, tone light with amusement, "The potion was never for you, Doctor; it really was to tear you away from your sidekick. I know how terribly fond you are of them in particular, and thought… this may be the perfect leverage opportunity."

"Doctor, what are they talking about?"

He didn't answer you, just set his eyes on what appeared to be a camera in the corner, "What do you want from me?"

You blinked, ready to argue with the Doctor about just… giving in (the Universe was far more important than you), but something else caught your attention.

It was the smell, god, it smelt just like roses in here. So fresh and beautiful, you could almost smell the morning dew on the thorns. It was so… wonderful.

"Y/N?" he spoke, you knew that voice, you really did, but it just smelt so nice in here. You couldn't help but picture the velvety petals beneath your fingertips, the grass underneath your shoes, the rays of sun on your face.

In an instant, your eyes fluttered shut -finding comfort in the warmth. It was like a warm sunny day on the beach, so nice to just… absorb.

"Y/N, darling-" the voice continued, "-can you hear me?"

And just like that, your brain was doused in, what felt like, a cold bucket of water -the rosy pink glow in your head faded, leaving a bit of paranoia in its wake.

"Alright, Y/N," he explained, calmly, "-listen to me carefully, don't-"

Before he could even finish, your eyes flew open, eyes landing on his green ones -searching for some solace. It was almost an instinct, hearing his voice, you just had to search for him.

"Y/N, wait-" He sputtered, eyes connecting with yours, "-why do you never listen to me? You weren't supposed to-"

He paused, staring at you for a moment (almost analyzing you), you blinked.

"Y/N, are you… are you feeling anything?"

"I, uh," you paused rubbing at your eyes for a second and just having a little check in, "-I don't feel anything different, why? Am I supposed to?"

"Well," he looked at you in wonder, and did that thing where he scrambled for a moment, "-yes."

"What?" The voice boomed again, disbelief coating her tone, "You… Why didn't it work? Doctor, what have you done?"

"I didn't-"

You interrupted, confused, "Wait, what's supposed to be happening to me right now?"

The voice answered, a bit more polite than an assumed antagonist should, "You are supposed to fall in love with whomever you see, it's perfectly disposed in the human genes, I don't-"

You blinked, oh.

"Well, I don't-" you inhaled, trying to calm your internal storm at the fact that the Doctor was looking at you like he just knew, but he couldn't have (could he?), "I feel normal, so…"

"Well, then," she spoke, tone a bit surprised but seemingly knowing, "-let's just hope we don't have any after effects, shall we?"

"What do you-"

The Doctor interrupted, voice stern, "Your potion just didn't work, there are no after effects."

"We shall see, Doctor, we shall see."

And with that… ominous answer, there was a click on the large gray door that had sealed them off before, an unlocking -assumedly.

In an instant, the Doctor grabbed your hand, and pulled you out of the room -where the fumes still lingered. You could smell the hint of roses in the air, and your head started to hurt a little bit from the memory of how strong it once was.

"Hey uh, Doctor?" You asked, slowly following a step behind him through the cavernous hallways, "What did they-"

"Shush," he spun around to you, and without hesitation, put his fingers to your neck (checking a pulse?), "-okay, good. A little fast but, alright so far.

Your face was burning hot and you could barely breathe. Your skin tingling where his fingers once were.

"Doctor, can you please explain what's going on? You act like I'm a ticking time bomb-"

He flinched.

"Wait, am I-" you exhaled shakily, pulling your hand out of his, "-am I on a timer? I can't hurt you, I really can't-"

"Y/N," he spoke, voice soft -a kind of gentle whisper-, "-calm down, okay?"

"I'm not-" you huffed, voice shaking ever-so-slightly, "I can't until you tell me what's going on!"

He exhaled, a deep sigh through his body, and you knew that look in his eyes well, an old man who'd seen worlds crash and burn.

"A lot of people have this idea that putting 2 similar things alike can make a better thing," he began, "-objectively, anyway. Scientifically through, that doesn't work, things clash and spark and burst. Like putting two ends of a magnet close to each other, they repel."

“And, that means?” you asked, tone questioning.

"The person who did this to you, tried to make a, objectively, better potion that was compiled of the same things that 2 other potions had," he continued, hand still locked with yours as you roamed down the hall, "This, being done haphazardly didn't really work."

“So, what, Doctor? What’s-”

“Your-” he started, eyes falling in a huff, “-Your heart is a ticking time bomb.”

#eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #gender neutral y/n #a bit angsty but #it fixes itself #is really sad kinda so #unrequited love but not really #use of y/n #enjoy part one #watchoutwriting #ticking love bomb

[luvchampagne]

WHOLE - k. tetsuro

summary: kuroo may be lacking and imperfect in some ways but you are there to make up for him.

pairings: kuroo tetsuro x fem! reader

a/n: this has been seating on my drafts for too long, and you can tell im loosing my brain juices at the ending. :')

kuroo tetsuro feels whole the day you entered his life. Every moment he gets he captures himself reminiscing the day how you two met. It was rather a sunny sunday and as always he spent his weekends on his grandmas house. last night he had cried himself to sleep; he had once again wondered what he did wrong for his mother to forsake him, he never truly got a proper answer no matter who he asked and he felt like he would never get one. so today, on a sunny sunday he decided to skip homework. it was unlikely of him, and he knew that all too well but something itched in him to go outside and play after that miserable evening, and there he found you. hair tied up in a pretty pony tail, dressed in floral pink dress as you drew random objects on the sidewalk. one particular thing that caught his eye is a black cat. “you forgot to drew it's whiskers.” he pointed out, he wasn't even aware that he had approach you. “oh,” and oh my god, if he knew that he had fallen inlove with those eyes of yours middle school kuroo wouldve laughed and won't believe a word. “it seems that i have, would you mind drawing it for me?” you offered him a white chalk. “im busy drawing it's food. by the way, his name is mr. cat” kuroo raised a brow at that. “mr. cat? how odd.” he could only smile at that thought as he proceeded to draw mr. cat's whiskers. so, on that day onwards kuroo tetsuro looked forward to every weekend. not only has he gained a new friend besides kenma and he had also gained a fellow friend thats actually interested in his volleyball activities. he learned that you had a crazy obsession with cartoons and like to fan girl over them, you adored taylor swift and you do seem to get along with kenma, occasionally playing video games with each other as you teamed up against kuroo and tell him that he sucks. of course he'd get pouty about it so you always promise to play volleyball with him and drag kenma along.

kuroo tetsuro feels whole when you two met again in college, unfortunately your parents had found a new job at a better neighbourhood and decided to move there. forcibly severing your contacts with your friends as you entered high school. he had saw you first in the library, hair tied once again in a high pony tail as you typed something on your laptop, your anti rad glass seating beautifully on the bridge of your nose. he remembers particularly in middle school he had told kenma how he felt about you, how his hands get clammy and a random wave of nervousness rush over him every time he gets to see you and how he feels like he's about to vomit his heart whenever you smile at him and tell him how proud you are of his volleyball accomplishments. kenma told him it was a crush and he immediately denied it. of course, middle schooler kuroo didn't care about any of that so he hadn't thought he'd grew feelings of you unconsciously. he recalls that feeling on a random sunny weekend once more when he was on his first year of high school after his friends asked (specifically yaku) if he ever had a crush. it was only then that the realization dawned on him, he liked you. he liked you and, ohmygod, kenma was right and everything's too late now and there was 1% he could actually meet you again. he remembers correctly that he felt hopeless and how dumb of him to never realized his own feelings for you. of course he mopped over that for a week, i mean sure, maybe you wouldn't reciprocate his feelings too but atleast he could've told you before you left. and he felt so stupid and dumb to deny what kenma told him 3 years ago. So, to meet you again in a random library was something he didn't expect. one thing led to another and he had approached you and thank god, you still remember him. a tiny part of him would've died in embarrassment if you did forget about him. he had guessed that if you didn't, he'd just re-introduce himself to you.

kuroo tetsuro feels whole when you drunkly confessed that you like him. of course, that wasn't his ideal way for confessing but if its you, he'd let it slide.

kuroo tetsuro feels whole when he finally get to feel your lips against his. it felt like home oh-so-warm and tasted like watermelon. he never knew that he'd obsessed over that fruit.

kuroo tetsuro feels whole when he gets home exhausted and youd always be there to engulf him in a hug, whispering “i miss you's and welcome, love.”

kuroo tetsuro feels whole when you said yes to him repeatedly on a sunny sunday under a wisteria trea. it was a three letter word but it meant the whole world to him. perhaps it wasn't sunday's that bring him luck but you. because when you had looked him in the eye when you two were seven and offered him a chalk, the day after his parents argued once more over custody, you had saved him. unconsciously.

kuroo tetsuro feels whole as he admires your sleeping face, legs tangled together under the blanket as your warmth engulf him. he can feel you starting to wake up but he can't help but stare at you longer. it was sunday again, and god knows how many times he had already hit snoozed on your alarm just to admire you further. kuroo tetsuro may not be perfect and lacking in some parts but, when he is with you he can feel as if he could conquer the whole world, because you keep him whole and he has zero plans of loosing you again.

#hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu #nekoma high #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x female reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro drabble #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #hq fluff #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!

[airiswindy31]

I went to the market a few days back and this vendor was selling mystery witch boxes. I’ve bought a few of her candles before but the boxes just drew me in and I bought one and though I was sooooooo excited to open it I felt like I couldn’t open it until it was proper sunny so three days later today is the day!! I got so many fun new stones, a new candle and a pendulum which I’ve never used before and I’m so excited to do more research and incorporate them into my practice. It may be silly but I got a gold healer stone and something about that and the blue aventurine scream Apollo to me ☀️

Anyways I’m excited and thought I’d share!!

#apollo devotee #hellenic worship #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic gods #hellenic polythiest #hellenic deities

[writer-komaru]

T T

I’ve been having dreams about Nagito a lot lately, but the one I had recently made me just want to shower him in ever more love. This boy is just so sweet I’m literally dyingggg.

So I shall create…

Flustering Nagito

Pt.1 Pt.2

This boy has very pale skin. So much so that he has to use like spf 75 when he goes somewhere sunny. So much so that some people think he is a ghost when they see him walking down the street. So much so that he has to take iron supplements due to the very low iron in his blood (which is one of the reasons for his skins light color).

But, there are more consequences to his skins light appearance then you might think. It also means that he blushes very, very easily, and it’s plan as day to see. Even if it’s a small blush, it still illuminates his soft completion, making it hard for him to cover it up.

But this was never really a problem for him because no one ever made him blush. He has bigger, more important things to worry about, anyways.

Until you came along. This may be a cliché, but you really weren’t like the others when it comes to him. His classmates are kind of nice (overly nice in his eyes) but they never chatted with him, ate with him at lunch, or ever greeted him good morning when he came in. Besides you. When you joined their class, it all changed for him.

“Hello, my name is L/N Y/N and I’m moving here from my home town. I hope I can work hard to become a proper classmate for you all.”

With a polite bow, you scanned the room. Everyone was so different here. Some people were smiling at you, some were frowning, some where looking at you too much, and some were straight up sleeping. But, you were excited none the less. The day you woke up to a letter in the mail from Hopes peak, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You had tried to sign up to the illustrious school a few weeks ago but when you never got confirmation that you were accepted, you moved on with your life. But to finally be here was the best feeling in the whole entire world!

“Very nice! Very nice! L/N, why don’t you take a seat next to…….

…..

..

Komaeda!”

Nagito’s eyes widened at the sound of his name. You were going to sit next to him? Why him? Isn’t there better options for you then to sit next to a disgusting person like him? But if that’s what Chisa wanted, he wouldn’t complain. You quickly took your seat next to him and the lesson for the day finally began.

.

….

……

BING BONG DING DONG!

The school bell for lunch finally rang out.

“Finally!!! I’m absolutely sttttaaarrrvvvving!~ Hey Tsumiki, let’s eat together!”

Ibuki jumped up from her spot and grabbed Mikan’s hand, pulling her over to her desk.

“O-o-o-okay Mioda… I-if you want to….”

Mikan looked down at the floor, seemingly nervous.

You could only wonder why.

“So, your names Komaeda, right?”

Nagito quickly looked at you, surprised that someone (especially you) were talking to him.

“Uh, yes. And you’re name is L/N?”

“Mhm. Do you want to eat lunch together?”

Lunch…..? Together……? You wanted to eat….. with him? Trash like him? Heheh….. hehehehheh…. It was funny how naive you are. You don’t even know the low level trash he is. Or, maybe it was just as mistake. Or maybe-

“Hmmm? You okay?

“Oh, uh-“

He tried to answer you, a yes was what he wanted to say, but for some reason, he couldn’t say anything. You eyes were glued to you, scanning your features. And he couldn’t deny you were very pretty to him. Ah! Why was he looking at you so long?! You were probably thinking about how weird he is! Oh crap, this was too much for him.

“I-I…..”

“I-I have to go to the bathroom.”

He suddenly got up from his desk and swiftly walked out of the door and straight to the boys restroom. He locked the stall door behind him and leaned against it was a long sign. He looked down at his hands. What was this feeling?! Why was he acting this way?! His face felt so hot… his mind felt so hot…. Like it was burning with the power of the sun itself…

Was he….

Flustered?!

To be continued… if you want me too. :)

#danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa #Nagito #danganronpa nagito #nagito x you #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #dr nagito #drv2 goodbye despair #goodbye despair #drv2

[kotaphotic]

— fermata (water runs colder)

✦ kafka + stelle — gen fic // character study

✦ cw — slight religious themes

✦ AN — this is so very messily written and stelle is most definitely a little out of character because i am!! projecting!! and brainrotting so hard!!!! i did my best

wc 1,153 // character art mine

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *+:｡.｡

“i don’t know who i am.”

stelle declares this as casually as a greeting, legs criss-crossed and posture far too informal against the seat of the train car. her eyes are glued to a coin on the table, fluidly passing it between each of her gloved fingers, silver as the hair that falls like curved waterfalls and billows from her shoulders. she only glances up briefly to the figure across the table.

kafka sits at the opposite end. her own gaze is piercing, and her stance so still and unwavering that if it were not for the steady rise and fall of her chest, or the gentle motions of her own bruised-purple hair against the air conditioning, one might mistake her for a statue. the air, save for the warmth of their own breathing, was frigid, a kind of cold directly contrary to the view from the window to their side; at current, they were passing through a sort of industrial portion of a distant, sunny city neither of them knew the name of (or perhaps kafka knew, stelle mused, but wouldn’t tell). “what do you know?”

the engine of the transport hummed. of course, they were nowhere near the astral express. as was the nature of these sorts of meetings between them, kafka chose the when, the where, and decided that today wasn’t a proper day to risk an arrest. once again, stelle was in the dark. she held the coin between her middle and index finger, running the ridged edge along the table like a child would a crayon, hatching faint lines into the wood. “blade said i was important to you.” she looked up again, without lifting her chin, and if she were talking to anyone other than kafka, her gaze may have been mistaken for exhaustion or impatience. “but i don’t know-… what we are, or were.” she hesitated for a moment. “what are we?”

the stellaron hunter laughed — the kind of laugh that sounded like wind chimes, that made the golden-white ball of destruction buried deep in stelle’s chest falter. a giggle. it was so unlike someone like her, to giggle. it was almost offensive. an outward jab. “see, this,” the trailblazer exclaimed, suddenly and inappropriately loudly and yet barely above her normal volume. she finally fully met the other’s eye level, extending her free hand to gesture at kafka’s action. “you never laugh. you chuckle, maybe. snidely. but you never laugh. i can’t even tell if you’re being genuine. are you making fun of me?”

kafka concluded her laughter unaffected by the mild outburst, placing her folded hands upon the table and allowing a moment to compose herself (though stelle noticed, with marginally more annoyance, how her smile remained wider than usual even if only by a millimeter). she finally opened her maw to reply, leaning forward as if to tell a secret. her sunglasses glinted subtly in the light — perfectly polished. “oh, dear, i would never.~ i just can’t help being comfortable with you.” she lifted a hand to rest her cheek with all too much grace. “but does it matter what you were before? what we were? is it not more freeing to know that you’re not weighed down by your past? what elio foresees is all any of us will ever be.”

without proper pupils, it should’ve been impossible to know exactly where kafka was looking, and yet stelle knew that she was staring right through her. it felt as though they were living in two different worlds, like the atmosphere shifted drastically between the two seats they rested on, and maybe they were. they may as well have been. even if kafka could stare into her soul, hold her entire self gently within her palms, kafka could never know the weight she felt, the weight that lived with her as long as she’d remembered — all she could remember. the learning, the experiencing, the way the thing residing in her threatened to take over everything, the-

“it matters, i think.” stelle shrugged, her shoulders light as ever. “i house a stellaron. i don’t lose sleep over it, but i must have been chosen for a reason.” there were always memories of jarilo-vi, of the xianzhou luofu, the twisted destruction that ruined all aspects of life — killed thousands, killed entire planets. stelle smiled, completely unbothered. what use was there, being unsettled, when this thing living (or unliving) inside her was all she’d ever known? she flipped the coin, over and over, against the table and under her fingers, until the clicks met the same steady rhythm as both of her heartbeats. steady, and slow. “i feel fear, so it’s not like i’m as courageous as you. i can die, so i’m not quite as resilient as blade. i assume i’m a short life species, so my body isn’t meant to handle this kind of thing. i guess i’m just built different.”

kafka shook her head. “i’d argue it’s just the opposite. you feel fear, so you’re even more courageous. you haven’t died, so you’re more than resilient.” her voice was velvety, silky as the webs she spun from her fingers. “you’re more than you’ll ever know. you are exactly what you need to be.“ she speaks too smoothly, stelle thinks, as if everything has been rehearsed, turned over and over in her head and spoken over and over to perfection. and perhaps it has.

“you speak a lot in riddles. you follow elio blindly. he’s not an aeon, but you worship him like one.” what was she even trying to say? it was unfair, a little. the way kafka could devote herself knowingly to a cause, that she could so easily find an explanation to her own existence, and in the same breath deprive her own supposed companion from the same satisfaction. kafka could know absolutely everything about her, but the other knew nothing besides little more than her name. “it sounds… naive.”

“you follow me blindly.” and suddenly everything went quiet. kafka leaned a little more across the table. perhaps her expression could be mistaken for warmth. “i believe he has the answers to the future, just as you believe i have the answers to the past. you have a choice to follow me, to talk to me, and you do anyway.” she lifted her head from her hand only to gesture subtly out the window: snow. “you don’t even know where we are. by your logic, the only difference between us and religion is that we communicate so directly. and i created you — at least, the wonderful version of you sitting in front of me now.~” she broke eye contact, for the first and only time, to glance briefly down at and then back up from the now-stilled coin. “what does that say about you?”

stelle stared, citrine against garnet, and for once, there was nothing to say.

#​✧ kp : masterlist #​✧ kp : genfic #hsr kafka #hsr stelle #hsr fanfic #hsr fic #kafka honkai star rail #stelle #stelle honkai star rail #hsr fluff #fanfic #fandom #honkai star rail #honkaiposting #hsr #art #my art #digital art

[beneath-the-irish-sky]

May 28th - 30th

May 28th - 30th 

My day started at about 10 a.m. and I had plans to grab coffee with the group at 12 p.m. on May 28th. I had time to do some research and explore what I would like to do in my free time on the weekdays! I am so excited to be here! I love traveling, and one of my primary goals is to travel to every continent one day! In fact, I am heading to Amsterdam in the Netherlands this weekend for an adventure. I will write all about it when I return.

My teacher asked us yesterday what we were most surprised by, and I would have to say it is how green it is here. Yes, I know Ireland is known to be green, but it is still such a contrast from Phoenix, AZ. It is such a lively and vibrant green!

As anticipated, we met up at noon and walked about 15 minutes off campus. We walked through a small neighborhood and got to see what the neighborhoods of Dublin look like. When we arrived at the cafe, they informed us that we had to bring our own cups!

When we asked the cashier why, she said that it was for environmental purposes and that it is not widespread. Reducing waste is a smart idea and they have a lot of foot traffic, so it is working. We luckily found a store nearby that sold plastic cups and now we know to bring ours back for a refill.

We then joined our teacher and their family for our historical walk of Dublin! It was very interesting to learn the history and I am excited for tomorrow's lecture to further deep dive into it. I really enjoyed learning about the name Dublin and how it originated. Dublin means Blackpool, which got its name from the Vikings when they used to dock their ships in front of a castle (picture 6) in the dark waters. Hence, the black pool of water. We then walked past famous places like the Temple Bar (pictures 3, 4, & 5), known for its lively atmosphere, tourists and drinks. As we passed by the

Bank of Ireland, I learned it used to be the Parliament Building (pictures 1 & 2).

We then had a small course (learn while relaxing) overview while eating at St Stephens Green Park. It was gorgeous there! historical park and garden, located in the center of Dublin city. There is something for everyone to do there including those who are visually impaired. They take great care to be inclusive and kind. I would compare it to a miniature Central Park.

We then went back to the rooms for a while (pictures 7 & 8). I have been making friends and planning excursions with several other students. We learned Harry Styles is touring Europe and found that he will be playing at the Slane Castle outside of Dublin. How awesome is that! The concert is scheduled to last about 8 hours with 3 bands playing. Two of us booked tickets right away to the now sold-out concert on June 10th. Our section is so close to the stage. It will be an iconic kind of experience! Anything outside of Dublin proper requires planned transportation. The Slane Castle is in a rural area and about two hours away. Ireland does not have Uber or Lyft. We would have to find a bus route and purchase tickets in advance or take a taxi which could get costly and might not be there at the end of the night. We decided to go with a bus, and we are now looking for the right outfits to wear. In Ireland, you have to layer and plan for rain, cold, humidity or just a sunny day. Makes planning a bit challenging but I am up for it.

I am so excited to go and am so grateful for all the opportunities I have had on this trip. I ended my day with our group going out to a restaurant near where we got coffee that morning. I loved the atmosphere in it because it felt so welcoming.

I woke up a little later on May 29th because my class did not start until noon. We have a class on Irish history today and are learning how to navigate campus later on. I arrived at my class and attended the hour lecture that took a further deep dive into what we learned yesterday during the walking tour. It was really cool to recognize the sites that the instructor was lecturing about.

We had a break before we had to meet up for the class again to take a tour of the University College of Dublin (UCD) campus. During the break, we got food at the Centra, a convenience store that is located right by our room. We rejoined the group and met our tour guide for campus the session. This session was fascinating because not only is the Campus beautiful (pictures 9 & 10) but because I have begun to become good friends with everyone on this trip and everyone is so nice here. They are a perfect addition to this experience. We are all having a good time joking around with the tour guide and really immersing ourselves in the culture and information the guide is sharing.

After the tour, we decided to head back into the Dublin city center to get souvenirs and other things that people had forgotten to pack. We went into a store called Penny’s which is similar to a Target. We tried on clothes and quickly discovered that sizes are completely different here!  Generally, about two sizes too big!  I was pleased with the prices however because I bought a pair of good quality jeans for 10 Euros. After shopping, we stopped at McDonald's to see if it was any different than it is in the States or other countries I have visited. It was odd because this McDonald's was heavily guarded with security that would not allow you to go to the upstairs section without proof of purchase.  I also interacted with more Irish locals while standing in line and waiting for food. I met a group of young girls who were talking to me about school and what I should do in Dublin before I leave. I think that it is really awesome how people will strike up conversations with you and are willing to help no matter if they know you or not.

We soon headed back to our dorm and decided to start looking into flights to Scotland for our free weekend the third in. We were surprised by how cheap the flights were compared to the prices to go to Amsterdam and how much there is to do in Center City Eidenberg. The research was behind us now and we are still a bit jet lagged, though, I ended up staying up until about 1:30 in the morning before I finally fell asleep. An 8 hour time difference will do that.

We had to wake up early on the morning of May 30th because we had class at 9 a.m. I met up with the rest of the group, and we all walked over to our classroom at about 8:45 a.m. where we attended a two-hour lecture that taught us about the Irish language (Gaelic) and how to speak a few common phrases. It was extremely difficult! I did not know that they had three different dialects and that there are many ways to say the same word or phrase. At the end of it, I only remembered how to say my name and how to hold up a very small conversation. Very small. For instance, please is translated to "le do thoil" and thank you is "go raibh maith agat". I just hope everyone speaks english on this trip...

I really liked taking this class with this group because we all felt very unified. No one made fun of others for not understanding how to say something, nor did we make anyone feel bad for messing up. We were all very supportive and wanted the best for each other.

After the class, we had another long break where I went back to my dorm and realized that I locked myself out!  I had to go get a temporary key from the front desk before running back up and getting my stuff to go to Kilmainham Gaol (picture 11).

Kilmainham Gaol is a prison for thousands of men, women and children for minor offenses to the political uprising voices, and those who fought in battle. It is now a national monument and tells stories from those who lived out their sentences there. It was a very long bus ride and a very long walk to get there, but it was so worth it! Being able to see the place where many people in the rebellion were executed and lived out their final days was a very impactful experience that I'll never forget (picture 12 & 13).

While on this tour, I have noticed that every instructor or tour guide that we have had thus far has been very detailed and passionate about the topics they're talking about. They genuinely are so excited to teach you about their culture and about their history. I have also noticed that they are very proud of their country and where they come from! It has made for a very enlightening and fun experience.

We traveled back to our dorms and I worked on some homework that I had for class the next day.  When I was done, I met up with the group to book our flights to Scotland and to look into where we will be staying. We are really getting to know each other better! I cannot wait to see the rest of the country and to explore its neighboring countries in the upcoming weeks!

Thank you again if you're reading, and I hope you have enjoyed this Blog and pictures!

#ireland #europe #study abroad

[sprnklersplashes]

these violent delights (1/?) ao3 

A stroke of darkness comes for the Crows, and now Wylan can't remember who he is.

Jesper watches the love of his life look at him like he's a stranger.

They fell in love once. Can they do it again?

The sun is slowly sinking behind the buildings of the financial district, its rays casting the illusions of thousands of gold coins sprinkled on the water. Ketterdam might not be known for its sunny days, but summer has been kind to them so far. At least out in the Geldstraat. Warm air, gentle sunbeams and faded blue skies have filled their days, and they seem to be lingering longer each night.

Wylan takes a step back from the edge, his hands still wrapped around the railing. He rolls his shoulders back, the muscles in his arms almost screaming in gratitude. After the long nights spent at his desk this week, he felt more like an abandoned door than a human being; his joints creaking and groaning with every step. Salt water splashes from the canal and sprays his knuckles, cooling his hot skin. He hadn’t realised how much he needed it, but he guesses it was only logical. After spending the week either cooped up in his office with the windows shut or in the equally-stuffy meeting rooms of the Merchant Council, he was bound to overheat. Especially in the black wool and tight cotton shirt that he makes himself wear to meetings.

Both are gone now, discarded in a laundry basket and deemed ‘tomorrow’s problem’. Putting aside the incredible discomfort of his mercher clothes, walking into the Barrel in such an outfit would be asking for trouble. He may as well wear a sign that says “I’M FILTHY RICH, PLEASE MUG ME”. And knowing their luck, someone would have nabbed a spare vial of phosphorus from the inner pocket, and then where would they be?

He hastily checks his coat pockets and looks back out at the water. The finer houses of their district begin to pass them by, the streets becoming more densely packed and pressing closer to the edge of the canal. Wylan had thought- and hoped- that he’d feel better the further away they got from the financial district. Now though, he watches the mansion turn into toys on the horizon, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

He resolved to hold onto the good thoughts, to the excitement of seeing his friends tonight. He counted them like they were coins. The thing is though, his anxiety has a frustrating habit of sticking around. It slid into the corners of his mind as he got ready and it grew, persistently. He watches the canal waters, but his mind can’t escape the box of papers in his desk drawer or the pile of letters that need to be responded to. Or his mother, alone in that cast house with only her maid for company tonight. His many responsibilities pile up around him, and with them come the faded but unmistakable voice of his father.

“Wasting time with frivolous games… partying with Barrel rats rather than tending to our fortune… a proper heir would spend the night working… I left my fortune to this…”

The voice recedes when he feels Jesper’s breath tickle his ear. Strong arms wrap around his torso and he’s pulled against a solid, warm chest. He rocks as Jesper sways back and forth with him, and they do so until a small, honest smile breaks across Wylan’s face.

“You all right?” Jesper asks. “You’ve barely said a word since we left the house.” In someone else’s mouth, the words would come with a sting of accusation. Not in Jesper’s though. Instead, his slender fingers run through Wylan’s hair, his pinky tickling his temple. 

“I’m fine,” he replies. He turns so his back is to the railing and faces his boyfriend properly, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Either he’s gotten worse at putting up a mask, or Jesper knows him too well. Concern flickers like twin candles in Jesper’s eyes and he tugs on Wylan’s jacket to pull him closer. 

“Wy… I know this whole thing was my idea. But we don’t have to go out tonight,” he tells him. “We can go home… spend the night in. Get the piano going… or do something a little more strenuous, if you want.” His mouth curls into a devilish grin at that, and heat floods Wylan’s cheeks. 

“Save your strenuous activity for tomorrow,” he tells him. He shakes his head. “And no, we’re going out tonight. You’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

“Wy-”

“And,” he cuts off. “You know as well as I do that if we went home, I’d find my way back to the office, and you’d end up shut in there with me.” He jabs Jesper’s chest with his finger. “And our strenuous activity would be you rewriting my draft proposal for a fifth time.”

“I’d like to think I could get you out of there.”

“You’ve tried.” He tugs lightly on Jesper’s tie, soothing himself with the purple silk beneath his hands. “No, you were right Jes.” With a heavy sigh, he looks back in the direction of the Geldstraat. “Maybe I am putting myself under too much pressure.”

It’s half true. He honestly doesn’t care much about the pressure he puts on himself. Hell, he probably needs it. But it’s when Jesper has to come up with him, and write what he dictates or read a stack of files to him. It’s unnatural, to take a Jesper and lock him in an office like that. That’s when the guilt starts eating at him. 

Jesper deserved a night off, and apparently, the only way to give him one was for Wylan to tag along too.

“Well,” Jesper replies. “I’m always up for hearing I was right.” He presses his lips to Wylan’s hair. “Maybe you can say it again later, slowly, while taking my shirt off.”

He rolls his eyes and digs Jesper in the ribs. Their giggles hang in the air as he turns around, and Jesper’s arm wraps around his shoulders. The boat weaves dips and turns a corner, and Jesper pulls him against Wylan against his chest and nuzzles his hair. They stand in silence and the boat rights itself against the water. 

“How was Marya?” Jesper asks after a while. He toys with one of his rings, his eyes cast down towards the canal. 

“She was good.” He presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his hands tightening over the railing. His work wasn’t the only reason he was reluctant to leave the house tonight. It’s also that tonight will be the first night he spends out of the house since he brought his mother home, and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s abandoning her. No matter how many provisions he arranges, he still feels that he’s no better than his father.

He never said anything to Jesper, not explicitly, but he never needed to. 

She was in the parlour when he came to say goodbye, her hair in a loose braid and an auburn shawl around her shoulders. She had looked up when Wylan entered, alerted by his soft knock on the door. It was more than he could have hoped for.

“You look nice,” she had said. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes. I-I’m going out with some friends,” he told her. He didn’t say where. One day, when she’s closer to herself, he’ll tell her everything. For now, certain things she doesn’t have to know.

“Lovely,” she replied. He moved to the couch and sat down beside her, as careful as Inej on her tightrope. She’d been drawing; a landscape of their garden, coloured with gentle pinks and greens.

“It’s beautiful,” he told her. He cleared his throat, hoping to dislodge the lump in it. “So Talia will be with you tonight. She’ll be taking care of you. And I won’t be any later than midnight. I promise.”

“Midnight?” she echoed. “Isn’t that awfully late for a young boy like you?”

I’m twenty-three now, Mother. The response crossed his mind briefly, but he didn’t say it. 

“Jesper will be with me,” he said instead. “And I’m not going anywhere dangerous.” 

Just the Barrel. 

Talia opened the door just as he hugged Marya goodbye, a silver tea tray balanced in her hand. 

He hired Talia just before bringing Marya home; coming recommended from Saint Hilde’s. Her wages are greater than the average maid, but she’s more than worth it. For the companionship that she brings his mother, and the grace with which she treats her. Wylan would gladly empty all the coffers for her. 

“Don’t you worry, Mister Wylan,” she had told him sweetly. “She and I will have a lovely night together. Have a nice evening now. Saints know you deserve it.”

He nodded tightly and thanked Talia again before taking his leave. He’s still not a betting man, but he’d bet the entire fortune he wouldn’t be able to go out tonight if not for the fact his mother was being so well looked after. If he hadn’t seen the tenderness in Talia’s face, or the graceful arc of Marya’s arm as she sketched, he may have planted himself in that parlour and never moved.

That’s what separates him and his father, he reminds himself. Jan Van Eck would never have taken such care.

On the prow of the browboat, Wylan takes a deep breath and runs through his little list of assurances. 

His mother is safe and happy and being looked after. His work will still be there tomorrow. He’ll be with his friends, who he hasn’t seen properly in months. This will be fine. They will be fine. He will have fine, Jesper will have fun and everything will be fine.

He whispers it like a prayer, through the East Stave, around another corner, and all the way up the narrow waterways of the Barrel. 

The tightness in his chest loosens as they come off the browboat. It’s a strange reversal; Wylan remembers how terrified he felt when he first crawled out of the canal, the threat of the dark corners and the impossibility that felt baked into every brick. But something happened; the Crows happened. He walked around the Barrel beside its Bastard, and he learned to act as if he owned it. The dark corners became his hiding spots, then they became something more. He learned not to fear the Barrel, but to let it embrace him. Now when he steps off the browboat with Jesper, it feels like he’s coming home.

The feeling grows stronger as they approach the glittering doorway of the Silver Six, the pieces inside him slotting into place. Patrons pass him and Jesper on all sides, coming and going between the various dens. Some Dregs nod and wave and even chat with them, while other gangs pass them with cautious respect. Wylan grins and his slumped spine straightens as they cross the threshold. 

Here, he isn’t Wylan Van Eck, impossibly young merchant with everything to prove. Here, he is Wylan Van Eck, demolition expert for the Crows. His respect wasn’t reluctantly handed to him because of his name. It was claimed by gunpowder and bombs, and no one expects anything more than what he is.

They pass their coats to Annika and promise to save her a drink before they find the rest of their crew. Or, to be more accurate, Nina finds them, shouting across the club and waving frantically from a corner table. 

Saints, has Wylan missed her. 

“Well look what the browboat dragged in,” she declares when they’re still a little bit off from the table. Her cheeks are rosy, and Wylan wonders how many of the empty glasses are hers. Regardless, he accepts her tight hug eagerly before she pulls him into the seat beside her. “Glad you could come to slum it with us.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Jesper replies. He slides into the seat opposite Wylan, and it’s then that Wylan notices Kaz sitting in the corner. His gloved hand is wrapped around a half-filled wine glass, which he uses to toast to the two of them.

“The place looks amazing Kaz,” Wylan says. He means it; he’s only managed to come here one other time, when the place opened. It looks just as magnificent now as it did then; the chandeliers overhead create what looks like a flood of diamonds over the walls and the dark floor, and the dark wood tables and plush red chairs would put any other club to shame. Hell, it would put his father’s mansion to shame. The steady flow of patrons and staff makes it feel like a living thing, a beating heart powering the Barrel. Wylan feels a surge of pride as he looks around. If this is his legacy, the name of a gambling hall on East Stave, it’s better than any empire he’ll pass on.

Kaz motions with his hand. Within a minute, a young girl comes to the table with a black tray. A glass of red wine is set in front of Wylan and brandy in front of Jesper, who looks at Kaz with open-mouthed awe.

“Are you rolling out the five-star treatment just for us?” he teases.

“Well, we do have Mercher royalty,” Kaz replies, motioning to Wylan before knocking back his glass. “And I would hate to incur the Council’s wrath.”

“I think the Council will have a heart attack if they find out Kaz Brekker is giving their man free drinks,” Jesper replies. “These are free, right? Because otherwise, we will have problems.” Kaz raises his eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Will you be like this all night?” he mumbles. Wylan smiles into his wine. Years ago, that would have made him shudder. But he’s changed, and so has Kaz, and he can just about hear the fondness in Kaz’s voice. It’s subtle, like the single flute in a vast orchestra, but they all hear it.

And so the night goes on. The glasses on the table increase and decrease in number as they order more and the staff clear them away. He catches up with Nina, and they take turns throwing spiced nuts in each other’s mouths. He lets Matthias buy him a drink and ends up sampling Fjerdan larger (surprisingly good). He sits down with Kaz at one point, and the anxiety that Kaz used to bring with his presence is a mere memory. Sure, Brekker is still one hundred unanswered questions wrapped in a long coat. But the conversation is natural as breathing and he even consults Wylan on whether he should get some live music in here.

“Dance floors are very in right now,” Kaz explains, refilling Wylan’s glass.

“Never knew you to follow a trend, Kaz,” is his reply and when Kaz glowers at him, he just laughs. 

Inej’s absence is felt by everyone. Kaz gives them the details of her latest letter; that she’s expecting to land in Shu Han soon, and her sights are set on a particular trafficking ring she tracked from East Ravka. Kaz says she got the initial info from a runaway, and then when that ran out, she asked at the inn where the girl had been taken.

“Just asked?” Jesper questions, sitting expectantly on the edge of his seat. Kaz shrugs, although the curl of his lip is seen by everyone.

“I expect her knives made a brief appearance,” he says, swirling the wine in his glass. “For persuasion’s sake.”

“Well, the Wraith is certainly persuasive,” Nina says. They drink to that, and to her.

It’s a little after ten bells when the night catches up with him. He’s sitting at one of the many gaming tables with yet another glass. Jesper is, of course, in his element. Kaz had been a little reluctant to let Jes play and only relented after a long, hushed conversation with his former lieutenant. Jesper had practically bounced to the table, and if he noticed that Kaz hasn’t been more than five feet from them since he start, he’s not said anything. 

“You okay, darling?” Jes whispers after his turn. Wylan has somehow found himself with his chin on Jesper’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around his chair. He thanks Ghezen he’s learned decent self-control. Otherwise, he’s have pressed his head onto Jesper’s collarbone and clung to him like a bearcub. The wine has made his head fuzzy, but it’s also dropped his defences. He’s become increasingly aware of the number of people crowding around them, and what started as a low hum of conversation now feels like a swarm of bees buzzing at the back of his neck. He’s making a conscious effort to breathe, to not punch the table or crawl right under it. 

“I’m going to step outside for a second,” he says softly. “I need some air.”

“O-okay,” Jesper replies. “Do you need me to come with you?” Wylan shakes his head. His mind might be softened, but he still saw the hesitation on Jesper’s face, and how his eyes shifted to his deck. It’s nothing personal; Jesper just came here for a good time, and going outside takes him out of one.

“I’m fine,” he says, “I’ll just be a minute. Keep the seat warm for me?” 

“Deal.” He gives Wylan a quick, shameless kiss. “And once I win, I’ll order a basket of waffles for us to share.”

“Perfect.” With his cheeks rosy, he rises from the table and hugs Jes around the shoulders before making his way back through the crowd. His gait is slightly unsteady, and he keeps his head down in an attempt to block out some of the noise around him. He just about registers Annika handing him back his coat. He remembers to thank her, and then he slips out onto the street.

There’s something about this kind of quiet that Wylan loves. Barrel quiet. The quiet lingers outside the gambling halls. Silent night air mixed with the muted ruckus of the gambling halls, the faded shouts from a brawl two streets over. He may have stepped outside, but life is still going on, all around them. You can’t find it on the Geldstraat. 

Maybe it’s his wine talking, but as he lingers outside, it feels like a reminder that they’re still here, all of them. The noise coming from the club acts as proof that they not only survived the impossible, but they’re thriving in its aftermath. The Barrel survived, because they made it so. 

“Sentimental fool,” he mutters to himself, but he’s smiling. He takes a deep breath. The air isn’t exactly clean. Rather, it tastes of smoke and liquor, and it sits heavily in Wylan’s lungs. He leans back on the table, his face tilted up to the ink-blue sky and waits for his head to clear. 

Minutes pass, and he slowly realises that the usual process of his disconnected brain knitting back together isn’t happening yet. He’s sat outside for long enough, and while the low-level discomfort from inside has receded, he now notices a dull throb in the back of his head. 

When did that start? Before he stepped out?

He decides to wait a few minutes more, hoping it won’t be too long before he and Jesper are demolishing a plate of waffles between them. He taps his knees, simply waiting to be ready. But as he waits, the pain doesn’t lessen. Instead, it persists and sharpens, and he’s forced to acknowledge that going back might not be an option.

Careful, he lifts an unsteady hand and touches his temple, trying to locate the source of it. What he can only describe as wet sparks of pain flare beneath his fingers, and his whole body shudders. He’s never felt a pain like this before; starting in one corner of his head and then blooming across his brain. It’s alive, and growing, and it’s everywhere. He grits his teeth, saliva foaming in his mouth, and the pain jumps. He cries out then, the sound weak and coming from a place deep inside of him. He hears, rather than feels, himself breathing raggedly, and tastes copper bursting across his tongue. Thoughts come and go like fleeting birds, never perching on anything, because all there is the now all-encompassing, relentless wave of pain. It roars behind his eyes, at the back of his head, beneath his hair. Everything hurts, everything fucking hurts. Somewhere, in the one lucid corner of his mind, he thinks this isn’t normal, and that’s when he starts to panic.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

His shoulder strikes something hard. Did he fall? When did he stand up? His body jerks. His chest heaves, and something wet coats his lips, his tongue. Warmth trickles down his face. He hadn’t realised how cold his skin was until now. He jerks once more, and then his whole body curls inward. He blinks, but the world is little more than a swirl of dark, muted colours.

Then, through the haze of agony clouding his mind, he hears something. Footsteps beside him. Something-a hand?- brushes against his cheek, his shoulder, his head. The pain spikes at the touch and his body twitches again. He must have said something because his throat burns. Warm, wetness coats his lips, and he feels he should know what it is. Someone, several someones, are saying something to him. His name? It feels like his name, but it could be anything.

He’s lifted, his head placed against something. He doesn’t know, can’t think beyond the new stream of pain hissing through his head. Voices keep fluttering past him; they rise and fall and fade and come back, but he can’t catch anything. They might as well ask him to read. 

One voice stands out though, even though the words are nothing. There’s something safe in it like it could protect him from the hot pain enveloping him. He holds onto it, or he tries to. It slips through his grip like water through his fingers. He might open his eyes, or try to chase that voice, but he feels too heavy. Like he can do nothing else except sink. 

The voices recede, and the pain builds. Like an orchestra playing their final piece, its different parts come together, from his temples and his brow and the back of his head. They build, one on top of the other, pushing and pulling for dominance until they combine into one, torturous crescendo. 

Something is wrenched from his throat, something from the back of his mind. It feels pitiful and desperate on his tongue. A name, maybe? It feels like a name, and he feels himself call it again. A warm hand presses against his cheek, a warmth different from the heat scorching his head. This warmth is pure and safe, and he leans into it. He hears that voice, the one from before, lilting and rising, overlapping with something else-

Then there’s silence. And after that, there’s darkness.

#wesper fanfic #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows fic #fic: these violent delights

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Lenny attending a proper meet-the-parents dinner after making things official with Midge.

Of course it rains like hell.

It hadn’t been in the forecast, and it had been sunny and a little muggy all day, but a crack of thunder signals that that’s all over at six-thirty in the evening as they’re walking to the restaurant. A nice place downtown that does French food. 

They scramble under an awning and Lenny tugs his jacket off to lift over both of their heads. “We’re gonna have to make a run for it or you’re gonna melt.” 

“What am I, the Wicked Witch of the West?” Midge asks pointedly as they splash their way towards the restaurant. 

“I’m sorry, I saw how much mascara you put on tonight,” he tells her. “Unless you want all that running down your face, move.” 

They bust into the restaurant pretty inelegantly all things considered, which is unfortunate, because it does garner a few stares, including from her parents. 

Abe almost looks amused. Rose certainly does not. 

Midge takes a breath and brushes at her dress, before turning to Lenny and adjusting his tie gently as he slips his soggy jacket back on. 

“What do you think, drowned rat?” he asks. 

She smiles and tugs on the collar of his shirt playfully. “Handsome as ever, Mr. Bruce.” 

“Good, I’d hate to disappoint,” he quips. 

A voice clears its throat at them, and they turn to find the Maitre d looking perturbed. “May I help Madame and Monsieur?” he asks awkwardly.

Midge’s smile turns from flirty to polite. “We’re meeting my parents, they’re just over there,” she gestures easily, and the man looks relieved not to have to put them on some sort of wait list. 

They’re led over and Lenny pulls Midge’s chair out for her without fanfare before taking the seat next to him. 

“You’re late,” Rose says. 

“Sorry, Mama,” Midge says apologetically. “I got held up at Susie’s office, and then I had to get ready, and then the rain started.” 

“What happened to your umbrella?” Rose asks. 

Lenny grins to himself, and Midge glances at him, nuding his knee with hers under the table. 

“I just didn’t think it would rain,” she explains. “So. Are we ordering first or doing the formal ‘this is my new boyfriend, you’ve met him, he was hungover that one time’ thing first?” 

“Thank you for that,” Lenny grumbles. 

“You were very hungover,” Abe points out. 

“He knows,” Midge grins as she takes a breath. “Mama. Papa. You remember Lenny.” 

“Hello, Lenny,” Abe says. “Nice to see you again.” 

“Hello, Abe.” 

“And how long have you been seeing each other?” Rose asks. 

Midge blinks, narrowing her eyes. 

“Miriam,” Rose warns. “This should not be a difficult question to answer.” 

“Let me tap in,” Lenny says. “Last summer, in Miami, we…maybe thought about it. And then last November…we…talked…some more…” 

Midge lifts an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘harder than it looks, huh moron?’ 

“And then we had a bit of a falling out, and then in…February…we decided to sort of…become a little more official.” 

Rose looks pointedly at Midge. “Hence why you turned down the Valentine’s date I set up for you.” 

“I had one,” Midge admits sheepishly. “We just weren’t ready to tell people yet. It was still so new, and things felt fragile, and…so…we just…didn’t.” 

“It’s April,” Rose says. 

“Things feel less fragile,” Midge tells her.

“So this is official,” Rose says cautiously. “You’re officially dating.” 

“And you and Papa are the first to know. Aside from Susie and Lenny’s mother.” 

“Why does his mother know before me?” Rose accuses. 

Lenny cringes a little. “That’s on me. I was talking to my six-year-old on the phone the other day, and she wanted to know how I was doing, and I…sort of let slip that I’ve been dating someone, and she turned right around and told my mother.” 

“It was very sweet,” Midge assures him. 

“I didn’t know you had children,” Abe comments conversationally. 

“Just the one,” Lenny supplies. “She lives with my mother out in LA. I’d like that to chance at some point, but…we’ll see.” 

“So you’re dating,” Rose states. “And it’s serious. Where do you see this going?” 

“We have no idea,” Midge admits. 

“Not a clue,” Lenny agrees. “Could be over tomorrow, could last forever.” 

Midge smiles a little and turns to him. “I kind of like the forever idea.” 

“Me, too. Let’s see if we can make it stick,” Lenny promises. 

Abe grins a little and glances at Rose, who isn’t smiling but looks pleased anyway. 

“Well,” she breathes out, passing around menus. “Let’s order, shall we?”

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

[ventitititi]

Meet me where the sky touches the sea

A/N: for those unaware, i spend my summers sailing with my grandparents some years, and i miss it dearly. The result is a mermaid au fanfic :) childe is the mermaid today, of course, since i feel his traveling self fits the theme quite well. And also, i love his dorky self.

Mermaid!childe x Sailor!reader

The smell of the sea surrounded you, the bow of your small ship cutting through the water. Gulls cried and friends waved as you departed, controlling your sails with experienced ease.

Barefoot and smiling, you began your journey, going to a lovely set of islands, where one could wash the weight off their soul.

Luckily, the weather was fair and the waters warm as you went. Some days, dolphins would swim with your ship, putting a smile on your face.

On one such day though, a viridescent blue caught your eye. Which was strange, considering dolphins are niether blue nor shiny.

Shocked laughter left your lips when a mermaid- merman? - jumped from the water, smiling so wide his eyes were closed. Setting your sails steady you sat on the side of your little boat and waved, hoping to catch his attention.

He noticed thankfully, approaching the side of your ship and shaking ginger hair from his face. "Hello traveler! What brings you to this stretch of the sea?"

"I'm sailing to the draíocht isles."

The man(?) Nods, keeping easy pace with your boat to continue the conversation. "I see, and what might your name be? I'm ajax, but many call me childe."

His sunny smile drew one out of you in return, "I'm y/n."

"well, dearest y/n, would you mind if i joined you for this journey? I hear the draíocht isles are lovely this time of year."

"sure, but be careful of the anchor, its up right now and might cause an injury."

Ajax saluted you with a chuckled, swimming joyfully around your little boat. "Aye, aye cap'n!"

Shaking your head, you stood up, hair flitting in the breeze as you swung around your ship with a familiar type of grace. "Off we go then, ajax!"

Light laughter flew with the wind, carrying to far gods ears as the two of you traveled in easy companionship, spending evenings anchored by small islands, you sat in a hanginf chair while you chatted.

And when the sun was high in the sky, salted breeze hitting your skin, you finally reached your destination.

"hey y/n, come swim!"

"give me a sec childe, I'll change and join you."

And join you him did, in the sea. His hands found you easily, keeping you both afloat as he smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple.

"I've been wanting to do that for awhile."

You kissed his cheek with a smile, replying "and I've been wanting to do that."

The satisfied smile he gave you was plenty enough for you. You swam along with him in the turquoise waters, seeing sea life aplenty.

And when you returned to your boat for the night, childe kissed your lips proper and bid you goodnight.

"goodnight, ajax."

From there on, your days were spent swimming and sailing in peace, touring the vast seas and following ajax to the ends of the earth. Barefoot, hair loose, and often in your swimsuit instead of 'proper' clothes.

One evening, childe looked a little hesitant before asking you something peculiar.

"y/n? I have a question."

"yes, ajax?"

"if you could, would you become a child of the sea and join me here?"

"depends, would you teach me your ways?"

Ajax smiled, "of course."

"thats your awnser then, dearest."

And seemingly appeased, you returned below decks to sleep, the odd conversation weighing on your mind.

When morning broke, and you had hopped in with childe, he murmured into your ear, "this may hurt, but bear with me."

He brushed his fingers over your forehead, and with a stinging pain your legs fused to become a tail.

It was a striking dark orange, the beta-like end fading into burgundy.

Childe whistled between his teeth. When you reached up, you felt the same small fins as childe where ears normally were.

"first of all, your gorgeous, and secondly, don't worry, I'll turn you back whenever you give the word."

You threw your arms around his neck, moving awkwardly through the water.

"dearest ajax, i believe you have a whole new world to show me?"

He laughed and grabbed your hand, "swimming lessons first, then off we go!"

After a few tries you had the hang of it, and ajax whisked you away. Diving down, it took a second but you found you could "breathe" here, too.

A world of magic awaited you, clearly, beyond the waves of the sea.

Ajax' tail sparkled with the sun as you followed him down, your eyes tracking the movements he made as you two travelled to a nearby area.

He gestured, smiling, at some fish. Brightly colored and clearly not very good for food. You swam around them, before being dragged again.

A/n: accidentally posted this so I'm cutting it short, i hope its still okay tho

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #mermaid au #sailor au #mermaid x sailor #genshin fluff #genshin mermaid au

[spooky-ghostwriter]

Sentinels Deck Number 5 - Silhouette

Normally, some time after finishing a Sentinels deck, I like to give a general explanation of what the deck is about, using a few cards as examples. This time, I felt I had something to say about darn near every card in the deck. So... let’s lean into that. I’ll go through the cards roughly in chronological order and tell the story of Silhouette, the goth vampire heroine.

Though Silhouette (civilian name Zywen Lotus) has a fascination with darkness, she’s still... mostly heroic. Silhouette gets her shadowy powers from an evil vampiric artifact called the Shadow Veil, and I wanted the player to feel like her powers are dangerous. Because of that, she starts with a pathetically low 20 hit points and a lot of cards in her deck have her deal herself damage. Trying to prevent the damage typically doesn’t work, so you’ll need some classic vampire life-stealing powers to keep Silhouette healthy!

This also marks my switch to Clip Studio Paint for digital art, and it helped me make some of the best art I’ve ever drawn!

Chronologically, the earliest we see Silhouette is on the incapacitated art for Escarlata, a hero I showed off some time ago. At that point, Silhouette was a little blonde girl by the name of Abby Adler. 

Abby’s parents were obsessed with making her into their ideal daughter - a prim and proper good catholic girl. They controlled how she dressed, how she acted, what she studied, everything they could.

In contrast, Abby was more interested in dark and spooky things that her parents would have disapproved of. In particular, she started visiting a vampire coven. She became enraptured by vampire culture and history.

When Abby’s best friend Cassandra was released from the hospital depicted above, Cassandra had gained the power to control fire. Jealous of Cassandra’s relative freedom and superpowers, Abby manipulated the coven master into converting her into a vampire. 

Abby returned home to her parents, newly converted and with a new name, Zywen. Her parents kicked Zywen out of the house in the middle of a sunny day, where Zywen nearly died. Luckily, Cassandra found her in the nick of time.

So this brings us to the first step of Zywen’s journey. She is now a vampire. I wanted to include a bunch of “obvious vampire tropes” in the deck for a few reasons. For one thing, the deck also includes a lot of ‘shadow magic’, and I wanted it to be as clear as possible that the character you’re playing is a vampire. But also, vampires vary so wildly from one work of fiction to the next that I wanted to nail down what my vampires can do.

Vampires in the Spooky Ghostwriter Comics-verse are significantly physically stronger than humans at night, but weaker during the day. They drink blood, but it doesn’t necessarily need to be human blood. Animal blood works just fine. They can turn into bats and have slight hypnotic abilities.

Another important piece of any hero deck is to show off the character’s personality. Zywen is an edgy edgy girl. Why drink blood out of a glass when you can have a goblet? Why have a desk lamp if it’s not shaped like a skeletal arm?

However, as disappointing as it may be for her, she is not an ancient sorceress in a Victorian-era mansion. She lives in an ordinary with Cassandra. She plays video games and dresses up her friends in modern goth outfits.

The next step of Zywen’s journey focuses on a character that I haven’t made a deck for yet...

La Nocturna, also pictured in Escarlata’s deck, is one of Escarlata’s greatest nemeses. She’s a vampire, but with even greater powers than normal. La Nocturna had the ability to summon hands made out of solid shadow.

La Nocturna was considered to be a hero, a member of the New Granwall Guardians just like Escarlata. However, La Nocturna didn’t just arrest criminals - she massacred them. In her eyes, the rest of the Guardians were too soft to do what needed to be done to prevent further crime. (Though even that was a justification - really, La Nocturna just wanted to drink human blood and used her hero work as an excuse.)

Escarlata and La Nocturna fought some pretty brutal battles, but it was Zywen who ended the feud once and for all. Zywen knew that the source of La Nocturna’s power was the Shadow Veil. After a particularly rough fight that left Escarlata in bad shape, Zywen used her skills of deception and knowledge of vampire lore to ambush La Nocturna and take the Shadow Veil for herself.

However, when Zywen first put on the Shadow Veil, La Nocturna dissolved into dust. The dark magic that fueled all vampire powers left La Nocturna and was absorbed into the veil, killing her. Whether Zywen knew this would happen or not is intentionally ambiguous...

Now, Zywen had the same shadow powers as La Nocturna, and in rare circumstances, used them to fight criminals. But she still didn’t consider herself a hero, wrought with guilt over killing La Nocturna. Furthermore, the Shadow Veil was full of evil magic, and it had a tight grip on Zywen’s mental state.

This is where the core of the deck’s mechanic comes in. The Shadow Veil is evil. Using it hurts Zywen, but you also get benefits from taking on those risks. When you play the game, you’re moving HP tokens around, but you’re also deciding how far Zywen’s willing to tap into her dark powers.

(Side-note: Soulsearching shows off another quirk my setting’s vampires share with some other vampire mythos - no reflections!)

Finally, as villainy in New Granwall City became worse and the New Granwall Guardians began to need more members, Zywen decided to move forward. Maybe she didn’t fully forgive herself for what she’d done, but however she got her powers, it was worth doing some good with them.

Zywen briefly joined the New Granwall Guardians with an exact replica of La Nocturna’s outfit, taking over her identity. This was really confusing for me as a writer and I couldn’t expect anyone to figure out how this “second La Nocturna” thing worked by looking at a deck of 16 unique cards. So I skipped over this part of the story and moved on to the introduction of Silhouette.

Zywen decided that the Shadow Veil as it had been known before was La Nocturna’s symbol - a symbol of fear and evil. In her studies into vampire lore and magic, she found a way to change the veil’s appearance. 

Transmute the Veil is a huge moment in Zywen’s story. Zywen is a character who very rarely has control. She starts out controlled by her parents. Then when she gets the Shadow Veil, she’s fighting for control over it.

Now, she’s the one calling the shots. And I wanted to represent that by making sure that Transmute the Veil offers a choice. “Reveal cards from the top of your deck until you find two semi-specific cards, choose one and keep it” is not a rare effect in Sentinels. But Transmute the Veil does something that no other card does - it makes sure the two cards are distinct. Every time you play Transmute the Veil, you will have a choice.

With the Shadow Veil in a new form, Zywen created a new costume and became Silhouette. From here, the rest of the deck generally just shows Silhouette on various adventures. She works alongside Escarlata in Brutal Ambush, and a couple cameo heroes in Drown In Darkness:

Alius, on Silhouette’s left is an upcoming hero created by Mistilitain. Charlie, on her right, is a shapeshifting detective created by Bobbertoriley. Bobbertoriley also created the environments depicted on both these cards. Brutal Ambush shows a casino run by and named after Jericho Moondancer (the non-demon). Drown In Darkness takes place in the spooky woods of Birchwood, Mass. The hedgehog gremlins being drowned are cryptids you can fight there!

Notably, both of these cards carry the “Infernal self-damage” cost. The Shadow Veil’s evil influence is still around - using shadowy powers or being too brutal still makes Silhouette deal herself damage.

The struggle between Silhouette’s good nature and her evil powers is a recurring theme.

This brings us to everybody’s favourite card of the deck. I love it because it, along with Brutal Ambush, are some of the best pieces of art I’ve ever drawn. Players love it because it’s one of Silhouette’s strongest cards and sets up a fun challenge where players earlier in turn order want to leave lots of enemies alive with juuuust enough HP for Silhouette to jump in and drink their blood.

So what’s going on here in terms of story? Well, most vampires in New Granwall City believe in living peacefully with humans. Zywen does too. But one coven master, Lazarus Vane, thinks differently. Lazarus wants vampires to return to their baser instincts and has the magical ability to make it happen. Casting a spell on the very moon, Lazarus made all the vampires in the city go berserk. Once again, poor ol’ Zywen just can’t stay in control of herself.

(By the way, the character getting his blood sucked is The Shining Knight, a minor villain who also shows up in Escarlata’s deck.)

Spooky.

Well, only a few more cards to go. Let’s get this done.

Silhouette becomes more adept with the Shadow Veil than La Nocturna ever was. La Nocturna could only create shadow hands. Silhouette eventually learns how to create an iron maiden. 

Screaming Shadows represents her pulling a victim into a sort of shadowy realm full of distorted faces that scream at them. The faces also scream at Silhouette. Fun times.

The one getting screamed at is Unmute - a villain by @insomn14​ . We were working on these decks concurrently, and are both fans of each other’s work. So I have Unmute as a cameo here, and Silhouette shows up on one of Unmute’s cards.

The guest character in Black Iron Maiden is The Faithful, created by zerami.

Vampire’s Tome is the spellbook that taught Zywen how to morph the Shadow Veil, but it taught her a lot more than that! 

Spirit Siphon is a technique that only a few vampires can perform - drinking someone’s very essence instead of their blood. It could theoretically leave her target an empty husk, but that wouldn’t be very heroic. Silhouette’s version of the spell typically leaves her victim too tired to continue the fight while also restoring her stamina.

Spirit Siphon has another guest hero on it - Radiance, also created by @insomn14 . Radiance is one of my favourite heroes in the game, homebrew and otherwise. insomn and I also got a kick out of how Radiance and Silhouette have some mechanical similarities while being as opposite characters as possible. Radiance is a cheerful ray of sunshine that motivates her allies.

Because of all that, I knew I wanted to give Radiance a key role in Silhouette’s deck. Spirit Siphon is Silhouette’s only card that appears in the deck at 4 copies. You’re probably going to draw one every game, so you’re probably going to see Radiance.

And that is every card in Silhouette’s deck, and why it’s there. Thanks for indulging me! Here’s a close-up of Brutal Ambush, my favourite art in the deck alongside Bloodlust.

See you next time when I turn everybody into 1920s cartoons.

#sentinels of the multiverse #fan-made hero #silhouette #escarlata #gold dragon #tsukiko #my art #new granwall guardians #whoops forgot to post this for like six months

[virgo-dream]

ao3 first lines ✍️

tagged by @yourlocal-charlatan!! thanks for the tag!! rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"Endless were 6 shows into their first tour. Something that felt like a far off hope had become reality for the passion project Dream and Death had started in the garage of their father's home. They'd been signed onto a record label, released an album, and now had a proper fanbase to keep things moving."

Safety Net: A Bolt in the Blue Story

"Sometimes, it was impossible for Hob not to marvel at how lucky he truly was. He and Dream had been married for about 10 years, after Dream had decided to step down from his role as lord of the Dreaming for good. Retirement suited his husband well too: Dream was making quite the name for himself as a painter and sculptor, and took great joy in taking part in the small tasks of their everyday life."

Glitter Glue and Butterfly Stickers

"Morpheus was notoriously a heavy sleeper. Hob had noticed it the very first night they had shared a tent, and after the first active combat situation they faced, it became blatantly obvious. While the fighting had left Hob scarred in his heart, as it usually did, Morpheus laid down to sleep as if nothing had happened."

When I Wake Up, There Are Only Your Eyes to Greet Mine - chapter 2

"Dream doesn’t get it at first. He never really did get it, but only attributed it to the need humanity had for labels, for packing things into boxes and saying this goes here and that goes there. Sometimes, it leads to this goes to heaven and you go to hell. It seemed to be a very common one, too. He was beyond that; his name said it all, Dream was endless. Not he nor she, not man nor creature, he was all there was to be and the nothingness beyond it. Gender and sexuality need not apply."

One of Their Own

"Dream had avoided music for as long as he could remember. It is hard to escape something that is so present in the mind of dreamers, that plays in the imaginary background of every argument, every victory, every kiss and every loss."

The Miracle of Song

"Out of the many things Dream had been deprived of during his imprisonment, the ones that hurt the most were those he never admitted to himself were essential to his well being. He'd given up on the concept of caring for his own needs the day he buried his son."

May Dream - Chapter 3: Healing Waters

"Being tired was something both Hob and Dream understood on a deep level. Hob had lived thousands of different lives, and Dream had been the thread that connected every weary mind to ever existed. It was safe to assume that both of them did, eventually, need to wind down and rest. Immortality did not grant Hob with a tireless body, and endlessness meant a forever working mind for Dream."

Spring Roll for Your Thoughts

"133 years passed, Hob finally gets a name, and the promise of meeting more often than once every century. They begin meeting frequently, and Dream starts thinking of the New Inn and Hob's flat as a safe place he can go to when he needs to get some distance from the process of rebuilding the Dreaming."

Daisy Chains

"Immortals can't die, right? That's the whole premise of the condition. Immortals can't die. "But you can be hurt, or captured." Hob remembered Dream saying in their meeting way back in 1789. He'd been captured before, sometime around 1640, drowned as a witch."

Freely Given

"September had been particularly warm. It was the end of summer, and the rain was slowly making its comeback. That afternoon, a particular heavy shower came down, announcing the end of the sunny months. An increasingly annoyed Hob had to run home with his jacket over his head to try not to get completely soaked, wondering to himself why on Earth, after accumulating 600 years of wisdom, he would not remember to leave the house with an umbrella."

The Night of The Storm

tagging: @littledreamling, @softest-punk, @avelera, @moorishflower, @valeriianz, @tj-dragonblade, @quillingwords, @issylra, @wintersmitth, @landwriter, @arialerendeair

#dreamling #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #morpheus x hob #hob x dream #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #ao3 fic #ao3 author #read on ao3 #the sandman #tag game #tag meme #this one got loooooong

[pompomchrissy]

𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜: mutuals & non-mutuals

     It had been more than a month since that night, the cast on her arm and the mental trauma she had was a constant reminder of it. Jason didn’t understand what Chrissy had gone through, he still blamed Eddie even though it was clear he had nothing to do with it, and he just didn’t understand her and didn’t even try to, so she dumped him. Even though she felt somewhat free, she had never felt more lonely.

     She made herself leave the house, because her skin hadn’t seen proper sunlight for weeks. It was a nice, sunny day, but she had hard time enjoying it. Going to a park felt like such a cliché thing to do, but she couldn’t go to the woods, because it reminded her too much of what she went through. As she entered the park, Chrissy almost immediately noticed someone familiar. It had been a while since she had spoken to them, and so she walked up to them. “Hi,” she greeted them with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did. “May I join you?”

#indie rp #indie stranger things rp #indie st rp #indie horror rp #「 starter 」 #「 thread 」

[bikepackinguk]

Day Twelve

It's been another long and amazing day!

Woke up early in another corner of a field just outside of Mappleton, with the morning mist rising all around. After a quick bit of getting ready, I got myself in to Hornsea before rush hour hit to be able to take in the seafront and head to Hall Garth Park to cook up some breakfast and wait oit rush hour.

I was joined by a very lovely old guy walking his dog in the park who also used to ride a lot, so had a great start to the day trading tales and watching his dog try and catch the house martins flying around the park.

Then it was back on the road, managing to dovert down some country roads to avoid the worst of the run up to Skipsea.

Unfortunately there isn't any other route in to Bridlington from the south so I had no choice but to head up to the A165 and slog it along in heavy traffic.

Oddly enough, it still felt safer than riding around Hull.

Thankfully Brid was reached without further incident, though I did have a brief stop for a nice chat with a guy on a very awesome recumbent bike on the cycle paths.

I was tempted to keep on with the next leg at this point, but decided to take the extra 12 mile round trip and hefty hills to head out to the lighthouse at Flamborough Head. And I am so glad I did.

An absolutely glorious view over the cliffs into the bay, on a truly beautiful sunny day. And I even got to see some seals playing down by the beach! Definitely a highlight of the trip overall so far!

After having a good cup of tea and resting the legs a bit whilst taking in the view, it was time for the next run. For most of the journey so far, the coast has a real lack of proper cycle routes along it, and I've been forced to make a lot of headway down fairly major or busy roads. It means making great speed, but isn't the most enjoyable of pastimes.

However, from Bridlington, NCN Route 1 coming up from Dover finally meets the east coast proper. I've been able to dip onto small parts of it previously, but from here it keeps pretty close to the coast all the way up to Inverness! So I shall be following that for a good while now.

That's not to say that NCN routes are easy riding, or without cars, and they do tend to meander somewhat meaning plenty of extra miles needed to go any distance. But what they do tend is to route along much quieter roads, through prettier scenery, and try and avoid the worst of the hills.

Whilst Yorkshire is very pretty, it is certainly not without hills, and despite the cycle route there were some real beasts of hills today. Some were gradual and just looong, that can be slowly slogged up in the low gears. Others are sharper and I have definitely not been too proud to get off and push when necessary!

Though there was quite a reward for all the alugging up hills today - going down White Gate Hill out of Hunmanby. One hell of an effort getting up it, but coming down the other side...

I think I swore a gooid dozen times in the descent, and that again once levelled out below. It might be the steepest hill I've ever ridden down, even more than the one in Scotland where I hit around 45mph. DAMN that was a ride!

whilst still on the adrenaline high, I carried on the route into Scarborough. Sadly I was mistaken in thinking that the hills for today may be over, as they continued eight the way into town.

By that point, dusk was approaching and I was getting into a bit of a flap for where to sleep the night, as big towns aren't exactly full of quiet hedges and fields. So I decided to say hell and book a very cheap hotel room, literally advertised as a single bed with no window.

I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this, but it does look like they were overbooked and for the next 12 hours I have a gigantic superking bed with a view over the town centre and sunset, as well as a JACUZZI BATH! AHH!

I'm typing this up from the bath currently. I may be here a while. Damn this was a good idea.

#bikepacking #bicycle touring #yorkshire

[monterraverde]

First morning moving into a new house is always weird, but the first morning in a nee house after a whirlwind of a move felt even weirder.

The walls are old in age, but new in feeling, this house had been standing for ages despite the march of time, and she could only wonder of the other families that have called it home at some point… Idle musings, of course. The pokemon are released out back, immediately sniffing or digging around to familiarize themselves with their new home.

Bappy finds a pond to splash in with Paprika, Smudge and Finn.

Adniel and Fafnir exchange blows on a patch of dry mud.

Kamina shows Kage how to dig in the mud like a proper mole, even if his son isn’t quite equipped for that yet.

The Don finds a sunny spot to lounge in with Goggles, and Gremlin zips between the groups, entertaining himself by shoving the others and playing pranks.

Bappy tells him off.

It’s peaceful.

She can’t remember the last time she woke up without a plan for the day ahead. She doesn’t start work for Silph co. Until Monday, and she really doesn’t feel like mass unpacking yet. One box a day will be good, she thinks, no need to overwhelm herself.

She really should get started on fixing the more egregious blemishes. That’ll be her goal for the week, and then maybe invite whoever can to a small housewarming.

And then she still needs to start on the gym challenge, too. She may be an elite in Paldea, but her Gym badges from there only get her so far.

…What a wild life she has ahead of her.

#:: status #:: king and crown

[horoyois]

about grief | riza hawkeye drabble

✦ a little analysis on riza hawkeye's feelings.

—pairing: roy mustang x riza hawkeye

—genre: angst (you can probably tell from the title but mentions of death and grieving, mentions of war, weapons, murder)

—word count: 1,5K

—a/n: i dont even know i cant stop thinking about her and about them and im literally going insane

Grief is a complex concept. It is not only a feeling that can mute the light in any person's eyes, but it also brings experiences that are often so vastly different that it can be difficult to recognize it. Riza reflexes on it, and, even though loss is not a foreign concept whatsoever, she wonders if she has ever grieved. 

First was her mother’s passing. She doesn’t recall much from back then, her memory hazy from the loss of the only source of warmth she ever knew. She remembers the immense sadness and loneliness that surrounded her four-year-old self during her mother’s funeral, knees wet from the dew covering the meadow where her mother rests now and her own tears. It was the saddest experience of her life, even if she doesn’t remember clearly, but she still wonders if she was maybe too young to feel proper grief. 

Sixteen years later she meets loss eye to eye once again, this time her father’s , and she is utterly ashamed to admit that she did not feel a single thing. This memory is much more clear in her mind — the service took place in the same graveyard on a beautiful, sunny day, a mocking weather for a funeral, really. Riza did not shed a single tear, in part because Berthold Hawkeye did not raise her like that. She’s positive that she felt sad, because losing her father also meant losing her childhood home, the Hawkeye State deteriorating to ruins at the same time as the alchemist did. She also felt overwhelmed, since her life started now and she had to decide what she would do from that point onwards. As inappropriate as it may sound, Riza was grateful that the neglect was over, grateful because she was finally free from her own cage. Grateful because Roy Mustang enlightened her path and guided her to her future, so incredibly grateful that she revealed his father’s (and hers) deepest secrets not a day after his passing. The shame came shortly after, but no grief that she could identify. 

With the war came a crashing wave of guilt that accompanied her everywhere she went. Hot, dry summer days made her remember the blazing midday sun that blinded her back in Ishval. Warm colors that reminded her of the dessert made her dizzy.  Every time a child even looked at her, she would feel her knees wobbly, eyes watering, lower lip trembling. The smells of gunpowder and smoke (embedded in her clothing, her hair and her whole being) gave her nausea until she joined Mustang’s unit and not even the lavender and lemon cologne she diligently sprayed every morning around the office could hide the scent of their sins. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t let herself grieve for the lives that she took with her own hands. She didn’t deserve it; she didn’t deserve closure or catharsis or leisure. She deserved to bottle every tear she felt like shedding for those innocent souls that she took looking cowardly through her scope, carry them with her and find them a new home.

It was difficult to not feel appalled for the Elrics and their tragedy. Two children, one mutilated after trying to bring their mother back to life and the other one was nothing but an empty suit of armor. Riza feels her heart breaking every time Edward talks, his eyes fiery like the twelve-year-old he is, but his words sounding incredibly wise for such a tiny body. She feels shaken when she hears Alphonse speak the first couple times, how his sweet voice gets lost inside the iron giant he’s bound to. Winry talks about them as if she feels the same grief, she shares it with them, and Riza is sure that’s exactly the case. The girl’s back is arched, shoulders slumped as if the burden she’s sharing with the two siblings is weighing on her, and Riza admires this little girl for being so brave to let herself feel. She thinks she has a thing or two to learn about her. 

The years after the Elrics tragedy are a whirlwind of problems, and Riza fondly drags the Colonel and her team to give the children a hand every time. Times are difficult, but they are definitely easier than they will be after Maes Hughes’ murder. Riza Hawkeye is familiar with grief. She has seen people (Father, the Elrics, now Gracia and little Elicia in front of her very eyes) grieving; hell, she has even caused grief for hundreds of Ishvalan families. But nothing quite compares to how her heart shatters and rips at the seams when she sees Colonel Roy Mustang crying at the feet of his best friend’s grave. His grief is almost elegant, quiet but warm at the same time — nothing like Father’s silent years, or Edward’s fiery eyes, or Alphonse’s tiny voice. Roy Mustang opens his heart, lets himself be weak and vulnerable, but only when they are alone and they are not Colonel and Lieutenant, but Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye.  Riza selfishly feels her chest tighten with pride when he seeks her comfort and wishes she could bear that weight with him like Winry did with the Elrics. She thinks this is the closest to grief she has ever been.

Grief has always surrounded her. Maybe because it comes hand in hand with the world, with human nature; maybe because her occupation just calls for it, with the wars and the corruption and the hopelessness. Grief has always marked a before and after in the life of those around her and in hers as well, and yet it is not until the very moment she discovers ‌the Colonel has been murdered by the homunculus called Lust that she feels it in her very bones, in every fiber of her being, her every muscle tensing and tightening, especially her heart. It fills her body with an existential dread unknown to her, and she sees nothing but red until she goes through all her guns, no ammunition left, her will to live abandoning her completely. She falls to her knees, and it’s all black and white, and then she understands. 

She understands that grief is a response to loss, and she’s been grieving all her life. Grieving for her mother, for how different her life could've been. Grieving for her father and their lost time, for how his neglect and indifference made her completely stoic about his loss. For the Elrics, children that could’ve had so much more, just like her, but were abandoned by their father, by themselves and by the Truth. Most of all, grieving for the lives she took during the War of Extermination, for her guilt and because she will never forgive herself. For the children, for the injustice and the corruption. For Roy Mustang, the Hero of Ishval, and for giving him the power to create hell on earth. 

And she realizes that because she recognizes this feeling,  this anguish from all those times, but now is being multiplied by a million and how is this going to be anything but grief when she’s about to abandon herself, her life because she refuses to live in a world without Roy Mustang? It is unthinkable that this is not grief, that she’s not mourning right now, with her cheeks stinging from her own tears sliding on her open cuts, throat raw from screaming and knees buckling until she’s kneeling on the floor. Alphonse is panicking at her ninety degree shift, and he begs her to run away, to save herself, but she has no will to live anymore. She can’t deal with this feeling for the rest of her life, and she knows she is going to grieve for him for as long as she’s breathing, so she’d rather stop it now. 

And then she hears his deep, strained voice, and the world slows down just enough so she can collect and put her pieces back together. She takes a glimpse of him before Alphonse transmutes a wall between them and the Colonel, and she discerns the same relief in his eyes that she feels in her chest. They’re engulfed in the flames that the Colonel directs to Lust, and she doesn’t remember any other moment in her life where she appreciated their beauty and might. 

After what feels like hours, Lust finally vanishes into ashes and Mustang collapses onto the floor. Riza does not know if she has the strength to be his Lieutenant right now, so she drops her usual mask and lets the tears flood her eyes while running by his side. He looks at her and mumbles that he’s happy she’s safe, making her retort that he should worry about himself. She knows what she sees in his eyes because most likely he can see it in hers as well, but neither of them will comment on it. 

After that day, Riza wonders if grief will keep following her everywhere like a curse. She wonders if there’s a limit to it; if the feeling ever disappears, fades, or is just buried in memories and can surface and bring all the despair back. She concludes that there's more grief to come, such is their destiny, and she feels like it awaits her at every corner. Since that day, Lieutenant Hawkeye opened a door to her biggest fear, and it weighs heavy on her back; heavier than her guilt, than her secrets and her dreams and future. Grief is a shadow in every human's life, and understanding it just makes it darker. 

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