#i really need to clean out this fountain pen

[dduane]

I am curious since I've seen stuff of yours mentioning the worldbuilding work being important (and because your Young Wizard series was hugely influential in the way I build worlds): Where do you put all the worldbuilding work? A notebook? A Google Doc? A file somewhere on a computer? Scattered sticky notes? Messages to friends? Do you try to keep it all organized?

I have no choice but to keep it organized, because if I don't, I'm screwed. :) ...And this isn't just a side effect of being 70+, but of having numerous projects going at once, all in wildly varying stages of development... and ideas for any of them are likely to pop up at any time.

Over time I've learned to keep separate projects' notes well separated from one another, to prevent confusion. Additionally, some kinds of notes are better for some projects than others. If the worldbuilding is mostly to do with character business and stuff going on inside people's brains, something that supports long-format typed notes will be best. For something that needs artwork, drawings, diagrams or calculations, something more graphics-oriented may work better. I usually find out what works best as as I go along, and stage newer notes accordingly.

In the past I've often used (physical) notebooks, but I don't any more, as it takes more effort than I care to expend to move things off the paper and onto the screen / into the file. (For those wondering: I normally compose directly into the computer, either by typing or [Dragon Anywhere-mediated] dictation. If a piece of work is giving me more trouble than usual, I'll sometimes break down and compose on paper, with a fountain pen: thanks for the hint, @neil-gaiman. Sometimes slowing things down does make a difference) :) ...Then I read the pen-generated material into the machine.

Probably the modality I use most often now for worldbuild material is Scrivener, for reasons I discussed a little over here the other day. It lets you store notes alongside your prose material, or in a research "folder" down at the bottom of your project: and it keeps it all together.

But I'm not always sitting down in front of the machine. Sometimes ideas pop out when you're on the road: or you're working on one project and something pertinent to another one comes up. So at such times I use:

Evernote. It syncs seamlessly among all the devices I use, and you can get at it from wherever you are in a browser or from a smartphone or tablet.

A voice recording app. I've got one in the iPad and one on my phone. If I'm somewhere without broadband and can't use Dragon, the saved audio can be fed into it later. Dragon'll then transcribe what I said and email it to me for inclusion in whatever note-keeping software I'm using. Right now on the iPad I'm using an app called Voice Recorder, and on the (Android) phone one that (mysteriously) also called Voice Recorder.

These are desperately handy for when an idea comes to you in the middle of the night and your handwriting's not to be trusted or you don't want to turn on the light for fear of waking up whoever else is in the bed. Fumble around for the recorder, turn it on, mumble your note in and go back to sleep. Just make sure you've actually turned it on. And off. :)

Sticky notes. I do use them, but I don't let them sit around: it's too easy for a passing breeze to blow them off the table / desk / whatever and under the fridge, where you'll never see them again. These normally get transcribed into electronic storage immediately, or stuck onto my desk in a spot where they have to be dealt with immediately; or (in the case of really important notes) stapled to several others that in same cases have been there for years. ...Notes not immediately transcribed get stuck into a notebook which I clean out carefully once a month, along with the other note-taking apps.

Another kind of sticky notes, of which I'm really fond, is this app for the iPad, called Tatter. It allows you to open multiple "notebooks" that can house what seem to be an unlimited number of stickies. Supports images, as well.

A wiki on a stick. If there's a lot of data coming down the pipeline at once, it's handy to have something to stick it into in which short articles can be linked easily to one another. You can export / cut-and-paste these into your main work file as necessary. Then at the project's end, you just zip the wiki's contents up and put it away somewhere, on disk or in the cloud, as you prefer. (Because who knows what its contents might come in handy for, some years from now...?) TiddlyWiki is good tor this kind of thing.

Anyway: the secret of successfully managing an array of note-taking methods like this is to set aside a day once a month to go through them all, making sure that notes that are worth something will be tucked safely into the project file associated with them. If you're not using a program like Scrivener that provides its own storage, this space can as easily be a folder on your desktop, or even a series of printouts. But the most important thing: back them up somewhere safe. Worldbuilding notes are some of the most painful to lose. ...I keep a set of mine in Dropbox, and an additional set in my laptop, and once a month I email a zipfile of the most crucial ones to myself.

If this sounds like a lot of work: that's as may be... but it's worth it. I mean, we're talking worlds here. Until they're safely out where people can see them on paper or on the screen, you are their only guardian.

At any rate: HTH!

#worldbuilding #note keeping #note keeping strategies

[leonhardt-simp]

The Girl Who Wrote Me Letters VI.

[post-canon/canonverse] | series masterlist

— Annie x Mute! Fem! Reader.

summary: The ungrounded mystery grows restless and tensions grow higher with every passing moment.

Author’s note: After 9 different drafts, I have this one lmao. Thank you for everyone sticking close to the story and those who have been anticipating chapter 6. Here it is! and I hope you enjoy. 🍧💕

“This one.” The Commander said pointing down at the files on his old desk, the decision creating quite a stir between Hange and Levi.

Hange looked at Levi before they approached Erwin’s desk, picking up the document to see what was beneath. They felt their breath catch in their throat, eyes widening before taking a look over to their commander.

“You— You can’t be serious…” Hange was almost speechless. After everything that’s transpired, this man was still marching on his feet.

Levi walked over, questioning the judgement… Until he saw the name on the planner documents…

“Field Medics…?” He took the paper, looking through them to see Erwin’s plans of incorporating medics beside the scouts. These plans seemed vague, but the idea was there in the form of messily drawn pictures and arrows. He wasn’t expecting this and neither was Hange.

“With all due respect, we can’t afford to pull medics out on the field… Do you really think we’ll even get our hands on even ONE?” Hange expressed, motioning with their hands while they spoke. The idea was completely ridiculous! They were practically the clean up crew. Just waiting for the dead to pile up.

Erwin knew their concerns… But, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. He turned his back to look out the window, holding the spot where his arm used to be…. The painful reminder of time loss because of injury. Time that could’ve been spent focusing on many other things… Those days, hours and seconds.

“No…But, I know one person that they’ll likely let go.” He turned his head over his shoulder to look at Levi, who slowly went through the next page.

It was a list of names. Names of many of the more proud names within the Medical Regiment. So many good choices, but one was circled amongst these names.

ELINOR VIVIANNE. ← SECONDARY PICK.

LUTHER WAGNER. ← THIRD PICK.

Y/N L/N. ← PRIORITY PICK.

DENIS PENCE. ← KEEP AN EYE ON THIS ONE.

JOHNATHAN ADLER. ← FOURTH PICK.

Hange’s expression grew confused, “But, this one–”

“I know. However, I want this one as a mere test run.” Erwin clarified, showing that nothing was concrete yet. This was just the foundation.

Levi couldn’t seem to get behind it. The factors of this made for a dangerous situation, especially with the rumors. “…I don’t think this is a good idea.” He expressed, his eyes looking up from the papers.

Erwin found himself playing with a fountain pen he had on his desk. “We had them for the expedition. This will be no different.” He reassured, giving a head nod. He seemed to be convincing himself as he spoke along.

“We also lost Levi’s entire squad and then some. Do I need to remind you that this medic in particular is also suspected of being in contact with the titan girl that tried to run away and destroyed half of Stohess?” Hange’s voice slightly raised, a hand extended towards the door as if pointing at Stohess itself. The risks were way too high, but that never stopped Erwin.

Erwin stood up a little straighter, “Then it’s the perfect excuse to use to keep that one close… Isn’t it?” He looked between his two most trusted allies. His hand reached to the paper, pointing down to the name. Hange didn’t know what to say… and Levi? He just followed along. The idea of a on field medic fulltime was an idealistic idea… One that made any one more comfortable… That security.

But, he was not prepared of the other regiment names that would soon come in to deny the idea. They took to a vote; Pixis denied the possibility of wasting medics and soon after, Nile had also denied. His denial was more out of lack of interest than genuine concern…

Not even Zachary approved of the new idea, stating that it would be “Unwise to take away from the sub-regiment when it already lacked.”

In defeat, Erwin would place those plans in a drawer his desk. Letting that ideas seem to sink away with many of the others he had. He had to keep moving forward though, no time to waste. That was until death stopped him like a brick wall. So close, yet so far from the truth…

Y/N followed behind Levi, her eyes scanning around to hallways of the commander’s building. The wood creaked beneath their weight, making the building feel so… Hollow. That was expected though, wasn’t it? An important life was lost… One that used to fill this building.

“Y/N L/N…?” Hange questioned, seeing the young girl enter the room.

Y/N saw papers scattered around the old commander’s desk, a lot of red seemed to point to various things and occasionally the big letters. Her nervousness seemed to only grow from that. I mean, it’s not everyday you get pulled from your job.

With a cautious nod, Y/N stood across the desk, keeping her weight shifted off of her still recovering leg. The pain was dull, but she knew she couldn’t overwork it.

Levi reached over for a particular paper, sliding it in front of the nurse. She leaned down, looking over the paper with a watchful eye. The words were confusing, but when she noticed her name in bold letters… She shockingly backed up and looked at Hange and Levi with a look that asked them what they were planning.

“…A test run. And not one you can refuse either.” Hange explained, picking up another paper to slide over to the new field medic.

Y/N took a sneaking glance back, seeing Levi standing by the door. His eyes bore into her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

There was that feeling again. That helplessness… Her eyes shifted back up to Hange who seemed to have the same look on their face. She really didn’t have much of a choice here… So, she just nodded. Hange nodded, looking over at Levi to see if he was satisfied. He just nodded his head, being the first to leave.

The weight was on her shoulders now after seeing this idea that was left behind by the old commander…

She couldn’t help but look down at her leg, shifting a bit to see if weight could be applied, but when she felt the buckle of her knee, she shook her head.

‘…I can do this…’ She thought to herself. It’s not like she had a choice here. It was either this or end up in a some fucked up situation… She had enough on her plate already. E/C eyes skimmed through the basics, finally landing on the name of the idea.

“Operation Support.” Her eyes seemed to read over and over again…

——

There was that helplessness again… That weak feeling that bubbled beneath her gut and overwhelmed her straight to the core. She even felt that pain in her leg again… Like every feeling and memory came flooding through from the back of her head…

Her eyes widened upon hearing that familiar voice call out her name… But, she didn’t see Annie… Just the monster that had ruined her…. That beast that haunted her night in her dreams from time to time. Some nights, it would stare down at her. Other nights it tried to grab her, pick her up in its muscly hand.

“Y/N…” Annie called out, her tone hushed and desperate. Hands stayed up in surrender, taking a cautious step forward but immediately stopped when Y/N’s hand adjusted around the grip of the gun. E/C eyes looked through those apathetic blue eyes, The ones that softened at the idea of this being it.

This was her chance… To settle their score. To make up for everything. This was her chance. This was her chance.

Her hand firmly grasped the gun, pointing it up higher towards Annie’s head. Her heart pounded in her ears accompanied with ringing and buzzing… Her breathing became shallow and uneven… Then she felt it.

Her vision grew blurry, her hand reaching up to touch the wetness that started to form there. She was starting to cry… Her throat had that familiar lump in it, making it hard to keep composure.

‘No… Stop…’ Her heart started to yell, but she tried to push the feelings down. Her hand wiped them away, not wanting to show this…This weakness. She wasn’t that pathetic girl writing in a book anymore. Those days were gone.

Annie felt her heart break at the sight. Her hand reaching out, but that made Y/N point her gun more firmly at the ambassador. This made her hands shoot back up to keep them visible. Annie knew that she had to work for Y/N’s trust again. It wouldn’t come easy. Not after what she did.

Annie closed her eyes tightly and braced for whatever was to come. She deserved it, didn’t she? She was the cause of all the troubles in Y/N’s life… The reason she ran away… Hell, she was waiting for her luck to burn out. And now? It seemed to be it.

This was her chance to get back for all the hurt and suffering. her breathing became uneven and her heart pounded in her ears. The white noise. It felt like she was drowning. Y/N couldn’t deny she was panicking…

But then Dakota’s voice pulled Y/N out, the writhing body on the floor let the tunnel vision clear up a bit. Her eyes looked down to the body on the ground.

“We’re… We’re here to help…” Dakota strained, holding her head in her hands from the throbbing pain that lingered. Kota couldn’t let Y/N kill Annie, not when they needed her for this whole thing… The main problem. “She’s…She’s with me… Marley’s Ambassador…” Kota stressed, seeing double when they tried to push themselves up. Hell, it felt like a brick just slammed into their head. What the hell were they feeding these doctors??

Her grip around the gun shook further, her heart telling her to stop while her brain told her it was for the best. Reluctantly, she forced her hand down and took in the sight of the newly made ambassador.

“Y/N—” Annie spoke with a calming reach out, but then they heard the sound of more people coming into the building and speaking.

BAM!

The noise made both Annie and Kota look over towards the door. Dakota was quick on the draw of her own firearm, eyebrows furrowing down.

Whoever wanted Y/N dead was very adamant on it. Especially, since it didn’t sound like just one persom this time. That alone pissed Y/N off.

The doctor had to fight with herself to keep from giving that ambassador a feel of her pent of frustration and anger… But, now wasn’t the time. All she did was give Annie a glare while she helped the bandit up from the floor, Kota taking it without much of a second thought and standing to her feet with a bit of wobble.

The glare was met with Annie’s softened expression, taking a moment to watch as the woman she once had so close to her, farther than ever before. The limp-walk past her made the weight of her actions heavier than ever. The sound of leather and metals kept Y/N’s right leg stable, helping her move properly with some minimal strain.

“She might develop a little limp… If you can convince her to stay in bed for her full recovery then maybe she might recover better... She’s always so eager to help out.”

Her hands clenched at her sides, as the memory of a bedridden Y/N laid in the infirmary bed. The way her face glistened in sweat and her head threw back in pain…. She couldn’t convince her… Not when she was trapped in that crystal…

She didn’t even notice the other two already rushing the window, Kota pulling up the window and checking below into the alleyway for any signs of a threat. It was empty. Nothing but a few stacked up crates and barrels below.

“Good enough.” The gang leader debated, shaking her head at the thought of Y/N potential falling a few feet down. Hell, they were sure she would land well… She guessed.

Annie’s mind was still dazed out. It felt like they stood on completely opposite sides of a canyon. The bridge being deliberately burned away, Y/N holding the matches that burnt the ropes thinner and thinner.

“Annie! Help her down.” Kota called, holding open the window. That snapped Annie back into the moment, her eyebrows furrowing down. She can pity herself later… Hopefully.

Without any time to waste, Annie rushed over to Y/N’s side. “Pardon my hands…” Annie softly spoke, keeping her hand on Y/N’s waist while she focused on ensuring she didn’t fall or trip. Y/N wasn’t used to the closeness, but she knew she couldn’t be annoyed about it.

“We know you’re here, Doc Let’s not make this harder than it has to be, hm?” One of the intruders spoke, a few laughing along. The sound of wood creaking beneath every step that drew closer and closer to the office.

The rugged man looked back at his men, placing a finger to his lips. He gave three fingers, signaling that on the count of three they would rush the office and take whoever was in it.

Slowly, the fingers counted down, the tensions growing higher before finally they rushed inside. Guns pointed up, sweeping before noticing that the room was empty. Nothing but a few disarrayed item and one of their own on the floor.

“Sir?” One of the goons spoke, rushing to the side of the corpse on the floor. Another goon joined beside the other, placing a hand to the fallen member’s pulse, shaking their head when all they felt was a cold vessel.

The man grimaced, putting his gun back in his belt. “I want this entire building checked. Nothing remains unturned or touched. You hear!?” He commanded, unaware of the shadows outside the windows that were already pushing through the alleyways to blend in.

“Whoever you pissed off, did not let it go.” Dakota muttered as they pushed through a wooden gate, leading them out into some cobbled street that had a few drunks walking up and down it.

Y/N just rolled eyes, taking a moment to ditch her uniform coat in a nearby bucket that seemed to be filled with a questionable liquid. Her face grimaced in disgust, turning back to catch up. She won’t be seeing that particular coat again. Unfortunate…

Annie stayed behind, keeping a look out to ensure no one followed them. “That didn’t seem like a matter of anger… More like a…” She seemed to trail off, turning her attention back to see Y/N looking back at her with a frustrated expression. “…Like a job.” She silently spoke, watching the doctor turn her head back forward.

The tension between the two even made Dakota uncomfortable. That was between them though, this bandit knew better than to try and step into a fight between a couple. Were they a couple…? Was that how it worked? She wasn’t sure.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Dakota rubbed the side of their head. They could still feel that sting, more dull but it was still there. “Doesn’t make sense for them to target a random doctor, though.” They added, taking a stop by some old building pub.

Dakota leaned against the brick, enjoying a moment of rest. Annie needed it too as she felt her wound from a few hours ago to feel achy and fatigue was surely pushing her.

She took a look upwards, only seeing the dark sight of the ground that lingered above… The underground didn’t have a sky… What time was it? Even she wasn’t sure… But, it felt like the days seemed to prolong. If she had to trust her gut, then she was sure that Pieck and Reiner were likely resting.

With that thought in mind, she took a moment to take a seat down on a bench placed against the brick like building, her hand rubbing at her shoulder. She even took a sneaking glance over at her old lover, watching as the young woman took slight offense to the comment. Y/N’s stance seemed to straighten up, her expression one that Annie knew all too well.

That look when she wanted to prove herself. She had it back in Trost… She had it here too.

‘I’m not a random doctor.’ Y/N signed, the look of surprise hitting the bandit and the ambassador. The blonde looked at Y/N with her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise, not expecting the change of communication. Though, that would make the most sense why she didn’t carry an old book around and a pen, wouldn’t it?…

Dakota knew there was something about how Y/N stood, her demeanor… It wasn’t like the other doctors she had been speaking to. Not Vivianne. Not even Adler..

Pushing themselves off the wall, Dakota approached Y/N, stopping just in front of her and looking down at her with an overbearing demeanor. “…Then who are you?” Dakota finally asked. There it was, the golden question. Everyone knew her as Y/N L/N above ground… But, who was this persona? This mask? Dakota was careful in approaching the mute doctors. One couldn’t be too hasty to learn the truth.

The bandit seemed to want the same answers as Annie, but even then the ambassador seemed to want to respect the boundaries her old lover clearly had. She still kept a close eye.

The doctor stood there, clenching her jaw a bit from the sudden interrogation. It even had her thinking to herself, wondering who exactly she was… But, she knew… She was a lot of things… Became a lot from nothing too.

So, seeing a smug bandit try to slightly intimidate her into spilling her life out on a map irked her a bit. It showed on her face too. Her tongue licking the inside of her cheek, she looked away briefly before she looking back up at the tall woman with more than just a little amusement. A woman who knew her position, she was. Perhaps, she picked up a few things from Dr. Vivianne.

‘The same person who slipped you a crate. Same person you want to stay on good terms with.’ She signed, her eyes challenging.

The action made Annie raise her brows, looking over to Dakota. The crate.. Then those names flashed into her mind for a few seconds. Denis and Luther…. They were all connected. The bandit seemed to suddenly have a moment of realization as well, her face contorted with a bit of confusion from that end statement though.

“…Is that a threat?” Fabel flabbergasted at the mere thought of some medic threatening to fuck off in the middle of something so important. They took a threatening step forward, feeling almost offended.

Hands started to make the argument more clear, her body turning to the two. ‘Take it how you wish. Just know you need me since I’m the only one willing to break the rules to help you.’ She reaches into her vest pocket, pulling out a letter. Her eyes stared at it before flicking her wrist to toss the letter over.

Annie watched as the letter descended gracefully down to the ground, her curiosity getting the better of her. “…What?” Annie questioned, standing up from the bench and walking over to pick up the paper from the ground. Her eyes looked up to meet her old lover’s E/C gaze, her hands gently unfolding the letter.

‘With much consideration, Main Medical has decided to postpone the distribution and cooperation with other outside parties. All medics and medical researchers are advised to stay in their offices or main buildings until further notice.

— Signed, Elinor Vivianne. Head of MM.’

Y/N shook her head, her eyes averting away at the mere thought of even getting her position revoked. ‘Everyone is completely at a standstill… Dr. Vivianne is more concerned with how much we’ve been losing because of these crates being either stolen or damaged. Every doctor, besides a few, are completely in agreement with Dr. Vivianne. They want out. This attack on my building will only solidify their stance on the matter.’ Her gestures seemed to be punctuated, her mouth moving along to mouth certain words and phrases. The doctor even started to pace a bit, needing to get some pent up feels at bay. She wasn’t happy about the decision either.

Dakota couldn’t believe that bullshit. Face contorted into frustration, feeling a bit betrayed. Hazel eyes took a look over the letter again, shaking her head in slight denial.

What ever happened to being the ones to show up for people? The heros that kept morale up? What the hell were doctors if they weren’t doing their job?

“Vivianne… That son of a bitch.” Dakota cursed under their breath, hands clenched at her side while she looked away.

Annie wasn’t sure what to make of this… “…She’s right about one thing,” Annie spoke, folding the notice back up before holding it out back at Y/N. “Those men don’t seem to be very fazed with the idea of taking lives. That crate you sent us was attacked… I… Uh.. We barely made it out. It was as if they already knew.” She watched as Y/N hesitated to reach out and take the letter back from her.

Fabel nodded, pacing a bit with a hand to their mouth as they tried to make sense of all this. “Annie here got shot… Those men aren’t afraid of any kind of consequence. Seems like everywhere we go, they’re always one step ahead.” The gang leader found themselves running a frustrated hand through their hair, stopping to look back over at the Medic.

Y/N felt her throat close up at the idea of Annie getting shot, her eyes shifting back up to meet with Annie’s gaze. Annie wasn’t sure what she saw in those familiar E/C colored eyes. It was softer than anything she’s seen all day though...

“I’ll be fine… Just a scratch…” She tried to play it off, getting a more concerned and less angry look from the other girl.

Y/N didn’t find it funny. If anything, that would make everything so much more complicated. Hell, she didn’t even know where to start… She carefully took her letter back from Annie’s fingers, pushing the paper into her vest pocket once more with a heavy exhale.

‘If they’re not afraid of consequences, then that means they’re either safe in what those consequences are… or, these people are more ruthless than I thought…’ Y/N explains with punctuated gestures. Hazel and blue eyes watched carefully as the doctor seemed a bit… Hesitant.

Dakota crossed their arms over their chest, “You have any idea what gang this is?” The gang leader asked.

Y/N shook her head, ‘Only lead I have so far is that they’re uniformed in black and red.’ Her head turned back in the direction of her medical building. She felt a little run from her own home… That was the building she used whenever she wanted to have control. She knew it would probably be burned to the ground when she came back.

“I don��t think standing around is be the best idea. More of them could be patrolling around.” Annie spoke up, standing up from the bench with a bit of a tired exhale. She cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders back as if it would relieve her.

Dakota nodded, “You’re right. Hopefully, this all starts to make sense when we’re actually in the safety of a room and not the street.” The bandit sighed, reaching for her gun and handing it over to Annie. “Try not to get this one shot out of your hand, yeah?” The gang leader teased, watching Annie flush a bit with embarrassment as she accepted it.

‘Let’s take a carriage or a wagon… I need a place to lay low… I can’t just go back to the MM if my trail is still hot.” The mute doctor gestured, fixing her leg brace a bit. The damn thing always needed to be adjusted, working and walking so much always didn’t help.

Annie waited while Dakota whistled up for a wagon, watching some old man ride up to side of the street.

“Do you need help?” Annie finally asked, getting waved off by the mute doctor. There was no direct rejection, just a wave of the hand while she approached the wagon.

“Take us Northwest. I’ll stop you when we get there.” Dakota asked as she jumped into the back, holding her hand out for Y/N to grab. Y/N took it without much of a complaint, allowing herself to be helped into their ride.

The coachman nodded, “Will do.”

Dakota got seated besides some sacks of imported goods, knee bent with an arm on it. “We’ll stop by my Uncle’s… I’m sure he’ll be glad to take up some company…” She explained, running a hand through her hair.

Y/N nodded, finding a comfortable spot near a barrel of what she believed was probably wine. At least she hoped so, a drink right about now sounded nice.

“Northwest is near the entrance to the city, isn’t it?” Annie asked, holding onto the strap of her satchel before finally getting settled up into the back of the wagon with the others. So much has changed since then… But, she couldn’t complain. She didn’t really have the right to.

‘And Main Medical. It’s some ways from it… Smack in the middle of this city… We actually cleared out one of the old brothel buildings for it… A big one. When we’re rested and ready, we can head there… Get us all on the same page with Dr. Vivianne and Dr. Adler.’ Y/N signed, her head leaned against the barrel beside her.

Dakota motioned with their hand, agreeing along with what the doctor said. “A meeting was long overdue…. She’s always avoided speaking with me directly. Dr. Adler and I are practically best buddies with how often I’ve seen him.” There was a spoken sarcasm that made Y/N shake her head, understanding what Dakota meant perfectly. Vivianne was practically a book of tasks. Always sending others to do the things she didn’t want to… Perfect example was this… Though it was deliberate, Y/N didn’t mind getting her hands dirty if it meant doing the right thing. Vivianne’s word wouldn’t stop her.

Annie hummed, taking a sneaking glance over to Y/N, who seemed to want to rest a bit on the ride to Dakota’s Uncle’s house. She didn’t want to stare, but it was strange…Seeing her again after such a long time… She looked good. Annie still liked how she styled her hair… How her E/C closed to just… Rest and breathe for a moment. Of course, she was pulled out of her moment when she saw Dakota smirking at her. That knowing glance the bandit made her way ruined it.

It made her embarrassed, making her turn her head away with her cheeks growing red flush..

With a snap of the reigns, they were on their way. Thankfully the cover of the wagon would provide them some relief from anyone who could see them pass by.

——

Adler bursted through the door, panting and pointing behind him. He was so out of breath from running everywhere, still empty handed though.

Dr. Vivianne placed her clipboard down and just waited for the theatric display to end, leaning a hand against her desk while the other rested on her hip.

“Eastern Building…. It… Phew…” He started his sentence, leant forward with his hands on his knees. He couldn’t even hold enough air in to make a cohesive sentence.

Of course, this just annoyed Vivianne. “Spit it out.” She urged, tone stern and punctual with it.

“Eastern building got raided.” Adler finally spit it out, holding a hand to his chest. The news made Vivianne’s eyes widen a bit, her expression growing a little confused.

“Raided? What do you mean "raided?” The ash haired doctor questioned, her head tilted forward as if demanding some kind of explanation.

The blonde doctor just shook his head, standing up a bit straighter. “I was doing what you said… Trying to find Y/N… So, I went to her building…But then, I noticed a whole bunch of men rush the building… I booked it out of there….” Adler explained, pacing a bit while he spoke. His conscience felt guilty. He ran off like a coward and probably let these… Rats kill one of their own.

Vivianne seemed lost for words. Her eyes looked away as she processed the news, feeling a sinking feeling in her gut at the thought of one of the original three being gone to something so…. so preventable. Her brain wanted to think logically about this, but her heart didn’t seem to agree.

“…Do you know for sure that Dr. Quil was in that building?” Vivianne questioned in a monotone voice, her head tilting slightly.

Adler couldn’t say for sure. “…I… I would like to hope not… But, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re starting to hurt the supply at the source.” He said his thoughts, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stood. His eyes grew worrisome. The idea of anyone becoming a target… He avoided the war for that reason… He didn’t want to be a target.

Vivianne felt bitter, her eyes closing for a moment. “…Start telling the staff to start closing everything up.” She says, standing up straighter. “Tell them that it’s urgent as well. I don’t want a single doctor left behind.” Her hand pulled a document from her desk, pushing it into one of the drawers with a slight of hand.

Adler looked at Vivianne with a confused expression, his eyebrows knitting together. “…What about the crates?… Surely, we can’t just… Leave them?” He asked, curious if they were going to just leave them there.

Vivianne nodded, “Don’t worry about that. Until we get definite confirmation that Dr. Quil is dead. We will proceed with clean-up here. Priority documents come first. Crates can collect dust for all I care. They’re not worth the sacrifice of the other good doctors here.” Her way of explaining the situation made Adler feel a little more at ease. He nodded his head in agreement. The earlier they got out, the better.

“Now leave me be… I need… Uh…” Vivianne looked around a bit lost, her eyes looking down at her desk. “I need to be alone for a little while…” She took a seat in her chair, her elbows resting on the surface of her cluttered desk and her hands clasping together as if in prayer. Her heart felt heavy. It felt like everything was going downhill from here.

Dr. Adler nodded his head, immediately leaving to go start the prep up for evac. There was a lot of equipment to be packed away. Transportation was also going to be a little tight, but as long as people were able to leave then it didn’t matter.

Vivianne stared at the door of her office, her eyes closing tightly as flashbacks to when she first met Y/N had suddenly triggered.

——

“Luther, Denis, Vivianne, and Adler. You’re being requested over to The Scouts Main Quarters. Please go ASAP.” The head medic spoke, flipping through a wooden clipboard as he stood at the doorway.

Vivianne pulled her mask down and looked over, her expression growing confused. “Wh-What do they need us for…?” She questioned, taking off her blood soaked gloves.

The man looked up at Vivianne, shaking his head in disapproval. “Does it matter? If I say to go, you go.” He spoke firmly, making the girl slightly purse her lips together as if to hold back on being disrespectful.

She only nodded, looking back down at the soldier that was missing an arm from an expedition… Survived, but now retired… It was unfortunate. “Rest easy…” She softly spoke, patting his shoulder before she turned and left the room.

In the hallway, Luther and Denis seemed to be messing around a bit, pushing and shoving each other. Adler stood with his hand adjusting his glasses, keeping a cocky explanation on his face as they waited for Vivianne.

“You coming, slowpoke? We’re waiting on you.” Denis said, wrapping an arm around Luther’s shoulder.

Adler scoffed, “At least try to act professional, Denis…” The blonde man spoke, his expression showing his disdain for how casual the two were being.

Luther rolled his eyes, “You act like we’re seeing the Queen. Get your breeches untangled and let loose, will ya? I swear, all I ever hear you do is complain.” The taller man spoke, Denis laughing a bit from his friend’s observation.

Adler just gritted his teeth, shaking his head. He adjusted his glasses once more, “You ready?” Adler asked Vivianne, wanting this done and over with as soon as possible.

Vivianne gave a quick nod, catching up with the three.

She remembered the debriefings they were subjected to with Commander Hange. The eccentric way the commander handled themselves made Luther and Denis more excited for this sudden call.

But, Vivianne was very… suspicious. Becoming a field medic sounded crazy… All this confidentiality also rubbed her wrong. What the hell were they hiding?

“Given the circumstances, I will give you the opportunity to back out… However, you 4 were hand picked because of your overall evaluations back when you were in training as well as your medical expertise. This is for progress… A trial we conducted a few time before. It will be the first on field medical team.” Hange explained with a more serious tone, pushing a paper towards the four medics.

Luther was the first to raise his hand, “Is it just us…? Or will there be more?” He asked, making Vivianne give him a side-eye.

Hange paced a bit, nodding their head. “I will only say that you have a captain.” They stopped, motioning towards the door. “Unlike you all, she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the matter whether she joined or not.”

Adler shook his head, standing up. “I rather value my life. I would find it a waste to leave it in the hands of some… Scout. Thank you for the offer though. Hopefully, you can find some other fool to take my place.” His reluctance made Vivianne want to leave as well, finding the idea of fighting alongside The Scouts to be so foolish. A death sentence handed down on a gruesome platter, that’s basically what it was.

As Adler left, Vivianne debated with herself. She too could live a comfortable life.. A life with no worries besides the worries that came in through doors in the arms of fellow comrades…

“Damn… I really thought I sold the idea. Anyone else?” Hange sighed, pushing up their goggles to rub their eyes. Handa landed on their hips, looking amongst the younger men and at Vivianne.

The room stayed quiet, Luther soon reaching to the table to grab the paper of the plans. Vivianne watched him debate it, soon just nodding. “Fuck it… I’m in.” He stood up, tossing the paper back onto the table. Vivianne just watched as Denis followed through too.

“Me too. I’ll join too!” Denis said with a confident fist to his chest. His lips held a self-assured smile too, pushing Luther with his arm, who then pushed him back.

‘What the…’ She thought they were crazy. Why the hell would they want to go beyond the walls? The safety was all here. They had the easy part of just sitting and waiting, cleaning and tending…. But, she hadn’t denied the offer yet… So, was she crazy too? Was it some weird curiosity?

Her eyes then met up with the commander’s, “What about you?” Hange asked, holding out a hand to her. Vivianne wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she grabbed that hand, sealing the deal of her participation.

She remembered how the team was escorted throughout the barrack building. Faces that were familiar passed by, making Vivianne stare more with interest. She didn’t expect them to be so close to such big names… Hell, she even thinks she saw Mikasa there.

“Holy hell, that’s literally Levi.” Denis grabbed Luther’s arm, shaking him slightly. As they approached the closed door that Levi seemed to guard, his back leaned against the wall.

“Is this them?” Levi asked, Hange nodding their head. “One didn’t take the offer, but we’ll still have 4.” Hange answered, adjusting their uniform coat. “Baby steps as they say.” Adding to the conversation, they looked back at the squad behind.

Vivianne saw how Hange placed a stack of papers in Levi’s hand. “Perfect.” He said, looking through them briefly before he finally opened the door.

Vivianne looked around, taking in the sight of the lab that seemed to have been built there. A lot of beakers… A lot of scrap metal too… It felt like they just walked into a madman’s science experiment.

But, it was a lot crazier than that.

The figure at the desk lifted their head up and turned to look over their shoulder, soon meeting eyes with her. And suddenly, she felt breathless.

Hange ensured the door was closed behind them, taking the initiative to walk over to the desk.

“Your captain for this operation is Y/N L/N.” Levi spoke, his hands at his sides. He kept it short and blunt, there wasn’t a need for everyone to be getting comfortable. Not yet, anyways.

Vivianne watched how the quiet persona in the room pushed back a pair of goggles from her face before turning to look at the group before her. Judgemental eyes stared, nodding as if she was satisfied.

“You’re the—” Vivianne spoke up, recognizing that face from the bulletin board. The mute doctor placed a finger to her lips and just hushed.

Y/N stood up, the sound of a heavy boot came with every step. Vivianne wasn’t sure what she felt… Was it envy? There was something in how Y/N carried herself despite being the one with the greatest disadvantage in the room.

She wanted to capture it. She wanted it to herself.

——

Annie stayed seated on a small bed that Uncle Miles provided, a hand covering her chest while Y/N took a look at the wound on her shoulder. She felt a few stings whenever the mute doctor touched the surely scarred skin.

‘Whoever did this was surely an amateur.’ Y/N gestured, looking over at the bandit that was enjoying a little meal that her uncle had provided. It felt good to be back at home eating all this good food.

“…Sorry, not everyone has experience.” Dakota said, licking their thumb from the sauce that the stew had. Nothing like a good meal to end the day. They stood by the window, looking out at the street. It was always entertaining to see people interact while they ate.

Y/N was thankful she had the proper supplies to start cleaning the wound. So, she started with that first. Having to remove stitches was a bit of a pain, but she knew it was better than letting Annie walk around with busted up looking stitches.

Annie had trouble keeping her eyes averted, always finding herself unconsciously getting distracted by how Y/N would occasionally bite her lip or how her face concentrated on cleaning the inflamed area with a washcloth. The touch enough to make Annie slightly wince and squint her eyes away.

“I just wished it didn’t hurt so bad.” Annie softly muttered, staying still while Y/N worked.

From a professional standpoint, Y/N was a bit concerned about a potential problem. The wound was definitely not correctly treated, and the old sutures were practically loose and tied too big. But, personally, she couldn’t say that Annie didn’t deserve it. A little mean, but she was allowed to be angry.

“So when are we addressing the problem with Vivianne?” Dakota asked, tossing her plate down on her desk with the others once she was finished with her meal. Her hands wiped themselves on her pants, walking over to stand over the doctor and ambassador.

Y/N finished up the cleaning, putting her washcloth down in a bucket beside them. Her attention moved over to Dakota, not sure what they were expecting.

‘Whenever I can get back. I should be able to talk to her about this… She cannot know about the attack on my building though. If she does, I’ll be stuck in the offices and I won’t be able to help you.’ Y/N explained, standing up from the bed and using a small cloth to wipe her hands. ‘She won’t be easy to persuade, but she’s never been easy.’ Y/N signed once more, sighing at the fact she needed to go head to head with her of all people. Adler, she didn’t care much for. She could debate with him whenever and wherever… Vivianne was more hardheaded. A woman bound by a weird sense of leadership. She held every nurse with an iron grip. Not her though. She could never hold her down.

Dakota hummed, “Tell me about it.” her eyes looking back over at Annie who seemed to be checking out her new sutures. However, her eyes were focused a bit more on Y/N.

Annie was stuck in a little world of her own at the moment, trying to process everything that’s happened. Everything that will happen. “Who is Dr. Vivianne?” Annie questioned, her head tilting a bit. She hadn’t heard of the name. Nor did she read about it… This was someone completely new.

Y/N could’ve answered that question in a multitude of ways, but she didn’t. She just stood there and shook her head, ‘Head of the Medical Division. She took after Henry Belis when he died after the war.’ She gestured, not very fond of the history. Especially, not when her and Vivianne had so much of it.

“…So she’s your mentor?” Annie stood up from the bed, adjusting her clothes to cover up with just the fix of some buttons on her shirt.

Y/N shook her head once more, almost finding that idea a bit funny. ‘No. If anything she’s just a person in the big chair.’ Her hand gestures showed a little more of the sadder truth of this story.

A constant shift in power always made its way between Adler, Vivianne and Y/N. Either it was a battle of different approaches to certain things, or just Vivianne putting her foot down…. Y/N always had no choice but to listen.

Dakota took a step forward, a hand gesturing towards Annie. “What she means is, she’s a hothead with too much power. Haven’t thought of one instance where she’s not sending Adler to me. A control freak. Always up my ass about quite literally everything that happens as if I don’t have it all under a watchful eye.” The bandit scoffed.

Y/N knew that Dakota and Vivianne were also on opposite sides of the fence. It wasn’t anything new though.

“…She doesn’t sound… nice.” Annie commented in a weird blunt way that made Y/N give a small exhale of amusement. The blonde’s interest suddenly hyperfixed on that little action, her mind blanking a bit.

Y/N then shook her head, ‘She’s the product of someone who lets expectations cloud judgment… Someone who let their promotion go straight to her head.’ She signed with her eyes averted, crossed her arms after while making her way over to the window. Her mind always drifted back to the past… How, she constantly felt the weight on her shoulders as she did back then. Why was it always her making tough decisions? She never had a moment to just… Be.

“Y/N, I want you to lead the Medical Research Council.”

That offer was the downfall of the bonds they used to hold. When it became more about competition than about actually helping. Who was better and who could fill the shoes that were left. Y/N remember denying the position… Wanting to live a quieter life. The occasional job here and there… But, now here she was. Fighting against her own moral compass and risking her job because she’s never been one to leave others behind. Not now, not ever. She was thankful that Luther and Denis shared that principle.

She was tired.

Dakota could see that look in Y/N’s face. How her eyebrows furrowed down, a look of lost confidence. “…You two have history then?” She finally asked, making Y/N’s head turn away.

Annie stayed quiet, just wanting to know anything that Y/N would give her… Anything that book never told. Those continued chapters. She just… She needed to know.

And Y/N told them.

‘We worked together for a while. I was under the watchful eye of Commander Hange, placed to be a field medic and soon captain for a squad … She was… my partner. Someone I could trust at the time… A voice almost.’ Her gestures were careful, her face showing a mixture of emotions. But, she didn’t miss those moments. ‘At least, that’s what I thought at the time… But, when you’re running for someone else, you forget to walk. She forgot to walk and instead took the opportunity to fly… Hasn’t come down since.’ Her way of telling the story made Annie feel like she got a good punch to the gut. Like she was too late.

Dakota was surprised, head almost jolting back a bit from the information shared. That made a whole lot more sense now…. Why couldn't they find anything based on the missing parts of this “case.”

“You were been quietly stationed…? Why the hell would they do that?” Dakota was so fucking confused. In what universe, does making someone go missing create a benefit?

Annie was struggling to understand as well, her expression contorting with its own confusion. “That doesn’t make sense…” Annie started her thought, pointing towards Y/N, who in turn turned to look directly at the ambassador.

“I was working with the scouts during the rumbling… They said they never saw you...” Annie could remember it easily. Jean didn’t know. Connie didn’t know. Mikasa was the one who told her that Y/N’s been… Armin even said the same thing….

Y/N took a step forward, ‘What did you expect the friends of a former enemy to do?… I was working and had you come after me, you would’ve been killed.’ She knew her words were coming off a bit hostile, maybe even a bit bitter… But, she was… She was allowed to be. That was the truth. She had bigger responsibilities than

Dakota stayed quiet though, taking a place against the wall with her arms folded over her chest. She wanted to see how this entire thing unfolded, but kept a watchful eye on if it got… Too heated between the two.

Annie shook her head, “You weren’t my…” She then stopped herself, because at the time… They were enemies. They fought on different sides of the walls. Y/N stood a little taller, her eyes looking into Annie. The same way they used to when she couldn’t promise anything. It made Annie speechless.

There was a pregnant pause before Y/N tilted her head, hands signing her thoughts. ‘I liked to keep my whereabouts private… That was until recently… With the war over and a lot of the members no longer here… Now, I am just a doctor and rep for medical research.’ The mute doctor’s footsteps grew closer to Annie, the two eventually standing face to face. As much as it pained her to mention the death of her mentor and practically her guardian Hange, it was true. After the war on Marley… Y/N’s squad was disbanded to focus full time on other things.

Annie’s eyes softened up, her eyes unconsciously moving downwards towards the lips of the other woman. “And what was so important?… I could think of many instances where people needed a medic and you just weren’t there.” Annie questioned with a more sharpness in her tone. Her eyes looked back up into Y/N’s eyed again, their gazes strong enough to probably light a flame.

‘Who do you think delivered the queen’s heir?’ Y/N’s response made Dakota have a little outburst, her head shaking in disbelief. She pushed herself off from the wall and approached the doctor with an accusatory tone. “Bullshit! Everyone knows that Dr—” Her voice stopped immediately, eyes showing a shocking realization. That’s when Dakota’s hand soon pointed directly at the mute doctor, the doctor holding a prideful smile.

Annie’s eyes shifted to Dakota, trying to understand what revelation they had just came upon… Then she heard it. A name she’s heard of before.

“Dr. Quil…” Dakota’s realization rang in her voice, expression showing the new information boggled her mind. The documents were shredded because Y/N didn’t exist in the corp…. Y/N and Dr. Quil didn’t exist at the same time. They couldn’t.

“Dr. Quil helped me out with my bent out leg. I’d recommend seeing her if you need a check-up.”

The memory made Annie’s body feel suddenly cold. Her eyes finding themselves downcast and her hands at her sides in the shape of fists. Hiding in plain sight… Then she remembered what Dakota said to her when she was tied up in that chair.

“Name has been dead for a long time….” Annie spoke under her breath, trying to take in everything… But, It was too… Too much.

‘Marley was lovely, by the way. I find it crazy I made it there before you did.’ Y/N was just fucking with Annie now, the tension starting to grow the more that Y/N revealed. Annie immediately grabbed Y/N by her shirt collar, staring at her old lover with a more cold gaze. Was she mocking her?

The threatening look didn’t make Y/N flinch, she wasn’t the same person she was before… Annie had to accept that… There was no journal writing, no walks through the snow, no late night visits that ended up in a tangle of limbs… They were strangers. A clean slate. They didn’t recognize each other. That’s what years did to something that wasn’t fully established.

“Amby…” Dakota placed a hand on Annie’s chest, keeping her voice steady to calm Annie’s overwhelming emotions. But, It was all just too much to take in. Her fists clenched harder, her eyes wide and she was spiraling a bit.

But, it wasn’t. They were just battle-hardened creatures now… Both had their secrets. ‘Be mad that I lied, Sure. But, you can’t be mad at me for doing the same shit you did to me.’ Y/N was right. She wasn’t any better… They were the same coin, different sides. Annie couldn’t be mad that Y/N took a more respectable route of things.

“Annie.” Dakota’s voice raised, stern and hushed as to not disturb her uncle who was probably in his own sorrows with his mourning.

“You act like I didn’t care.” Annie’s voice wavered in their justifications. “I didn’t fucking leave you because I wanted to!”

‘You left because you knew you couldn’t stand to tell me the truth. You couldn’t even be honest with me when I got hurt because of you.’ Y/N’s words struck into her like daggers. And they were right… Annie was the biggest coward. The one that ran away because it got too complicated and the fact Y/N saw that and looked down on her… She didn’t know what to say.

Dakota’s hand pushed against Annie’s chest again, “That’s enough.” The bandit wasn’t going to let this continue, making Annie finally let go of her old lover’s shirt. Y/N even swatted Annie’s hands away, the sounds of breaths heavy coming from the two lovers. Dakota pushed them away from each other, pointing a finger at the blonde then at the H/C as if they were dogs. Both just back off, staring at each other from past Dakota.

The doctor fixed her collar, dusting herself off while she took that moment to breathe. She knew Annie could easily overpower her, did she care? No. She knew she had the upper hand. They both were in a position that couldn’t be replaced. Both were important people… With powerful names…

“Let me remind you both that we don’t need this. I get it! You’re pissed off at her. She’s hung up on you… But, right now??? We have shit we got to do.” The gang leader motioned between the two, hazel eyes meeting up with the doctor’s. “Doctor?” Dakota spoke to move the attention from Annie to herself, cautiously holding out their hand to the disheveled woman. Y/N just looked down at it with a stubborn glare. A little parley on their personal matters… How fun.

“We get this done, you both can sit… Maybe, have a nice coffee above ground about it. Hell! Kill each other afterwards if you really want to! I don’t give a damn. Now, we know what we need. We need to rest, wake up and have that meeting with Vivianne with no delay.” The way Fabel spoke really showed that they knew how to keep the game fair. That’s how they liked it. Fair, sweet and short. None of this back and forth.

Annie licked the inside of her cheek, still feeling that bubbling annoyance in her gut. She was also smacked with guilt and doubt. She just nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. It’s not like she wanted to fight her. and Y/N didn’t want to fight her either… She was exhausted.

“Deal?” Dakota asked, eyebrows raising to show a more neutral face to the doctor. She didn’t want to seem like she picked a side, there was no sides.

With much contemplation, Y/N reached over to shake the bandit’s hand. She can play nice for a bit. E/C eyes met up with blue soon after, ‘I know a nice cafe we can go to when this is all over. I’m guessing you like it with extra sugar?’ The doctor signed to Annie, making the ambassador suddenly look taken aback.

“How did you—?” Annie was caught off guard, head turning to follow as Y/N walked past her to start getting their stuff together for bed. She might not have realized, but Y/N still remembered her sweet tooth. Not that she would admit it.

Dakota shook their head, rolling their eyes as they left the two to get their shit together. The bandit was expecting a cute reunion, maybe some fighting with a little bit of declarations of love… No, just got a headache. A massive one.

“Hey, Uncle. Do you have rope?” Dakota asked, coming down the stairs to see the older man at his workstation. His eye looked over to the younger Fabel, placing down an axe head he was sharpening.

“What do you need rope for?…” He asked, watching as Dakota made her way over. She stopped across the work bench, hands in her pockets with her eyes looking at all the new things her uncle had been busying himself with.

“I got two dogs that need to get along. Figured I would just tie them up until they did…” Her hands picked up a shiny blue steel knife with a beautiful redwood handle. She gave it a few practice swings, testing how the blade hid away before flicking it out again.

Miles softly hummed, “Is that what I heard upstairs…?” He turned back to his work, sanding down a handle for an axe he was making.

Dakota nodded with a dramatic head nod, folding the knife back into itself. That’s when Miles held out his hand, “Makes the place a lot more lively… Can’t say I hated it.” He said with a short laugh, making Fabel feel a little guilty. They knew what he meant, it wasn’t just him that felt that way.

She gave him the knife, watching him pull away from the desk to place it into a little sheath he had made for it. A pretty thing, lovely dark leather always looked good. “I’m sorry for not being around much, M…” She apologized, pulling a chair out from his desk that was cluttered with ideas and projects. She sat across, leaning back in it.

He took a deep breath, looking at her with tired eye. “You're all good, D… I know you’re busy with managing the gang. I gave you that responsibility after all… I know how much it takes away.” He looked back down at the wooden handle in his hand, placing down the sandpaper to test how it felt in his hands.

Dakota sighed, “…I’m working hard to stop it… I mean.. I’m not going to say much, but I’ve been establishing quite the connections.” She saw how he shook his head.

It didn’t matter how many connections a person had. For some reason, this place always took and took. It took his left eye… It took his wife… He was stagnant… Just a guy who made tools for a gang he used to run.

“Hmm… Just don’t get swept up in it, D.” He simply said, his voice quiet. It pained Dakota to see him this way… Watching him adjust that eyepatch on his face, sometimes she could see his hands shake.

“It’ll have to catch up to me to sweep me up, Uncle.” Her voice softened up, watching as he sighed and shook his head. “I’m serious.” He replied, looking up at the young bandit. Despite her being older now, he still saw that little girl that enjoyed watching him make new things.

“I know.” She exhaled, standing up from the chair. “I promise. Once this is all over, we can take a trip above ground… get some fresh air. Maybe, we can see the water too. I know you’ve always wanted to do that.” She promised, holding a soft smile. It was one of those smiles that made Miles feel at ease.

“…Sure… We’ll go see the water.” He agreed with the pretty thought. Maybe he needed to get away from all of this… But, nothing could ever fill his missing piece… Not even water. Dakota gave a wink, motioning towards the kitchen as she started to head for head. “Make sure you eat, Uncle. Don’t need you passed out on your workbench again.” She advised, footsteps echoing as Dakota went up.

The older man’s eye looks over at the urn on the shelf, “What are we going to do with this kid, Kate?…” He asked before he shook his head and got back to work on making his axe.

——

“LUTHER! RUN!” Denis yelled, sprinting down the alleyway behind his best friend. Luther was running just like he was told, looking back behind them as men started to rush them.

“I want them alive!” The man ordered, stopping his chase and pointing at his men to go after them. His lips lifted into a proud smirk, hearing the bullets fire and the feet of men running at his demand… Was this what it was like to have power Instead of being kicked to the ground?

Denis followed close behind, pulling down barrels and crates to obstruct any path. Luther knew something was fucked when they saw those bastards were starting to block off streets. They had to ditch the wagon because of it and It fucked with him, he knew what they were looking for. Their faces were well known from the papers.

BANG!

Luther found himself ducking his head, scrambling into another set of alleyways behind some brothel. Bugs and rats scurried past his feet. His heart racing in his ears made it feel as if his head was underwater. He couldn’t hear anything. Just kept running and running.

“Through here!” Luther said, finding an old building they could run through. He looked at the old doors on it, taking a step back before using as much momentum and adrenaline to kick the damn thing open. Once the door broke open, Luther pushed himself through the splintering wood. The place was dark and dusty, but he could care less…

“Denis, I think we should—” He turned behind him and saw no one. Her heart dropping instantly, all he could hear now was the sound of his own heavy breathing.

“Denis?…Brother?” He helplessly called out.

taglist; @cess02 @the-camilucha @tsukidrama @scouts-stuff

#TGWWMLs #annie x reader #annie leonhart x reader #aot scenarios #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #annie leonhardt x reader #annie leonhardt #Annie snk #annie leonhart

[languagelearningcorner]

Language Learning Journey Update

It's been a while since I've been on Tumblr! In the months I've been away, I was focusing heavily on Persian and strengthening my skills in all areas of the language before I switch to a maintenance phase and pick up another language. During this time, I also got really into planning and journaling which has helped me better structure language learning in my schedule as well as reflect on how best to structure my time.

I certainly learned a lot from this time but the biggest takeaway for me is that my biggest pain point when learning a language is acquiring vocabulary. I tend to let it happen rather naturally (slowly) and while it's a valid method, it also leads me to stagnate and plateau. That's why, with the change in my language learning plans, I've also restructured my learning schedule (for, like, the millionth time).

Learning Two Languages Simultaneously

I was originally planning on (re)learning Korean after going through the intensive 3 months of Persian but recent developments in my professional life have pushed me to start learning Cantonese instead. My goal for Cantonese is mostly to reach a decent listening comprehension level and a basic speaking level.

Although I'm learning Cantonese from scratch, I feel that I still have a long way to go with Persian. I am not ready for a traditional maintenance phase, but I know I am close to burn out and have to dial it back. The schedule is structured around Persian and I fill the rest of the time I was using for Persian previously, for Cantonese.

ON/OFF Weeks System

This system was inspired by my need to find a different way to learn and focus on vocabulary while also avoiding burn out in Persian.

ON Weeks: These are weeks where I will be focusing on 1 skill in Persian in the mornings. For example, on Monday, I will be reading intensively (e.g., breaking down phrases, re-reading, translating, compiling vocabulary) for about 25 minutes. In the afternoons, I am working on getting exposure to Cantonese and learning the sound system.

OFF Weeks: These weeks involve only practicing the Persian vocabulary I accumulated during the ON weeks. I'll be re-reading them, defining or looking up words on Forvo, writing practice sentences, uploading them to HelloTalk, and correcting them. I also do some light, passive activities like listening while I clean something or reading for a few minutes without stopping to translate.

Off weeks don't really change much in the way of Cantonese. I will continue with my plan as is.

Maintenance languages: I do have to maintain French and Spanish, however, I am lucky that I interact with languages almost on a daily basis. When I foresee that a day may be void of one, I'll stack it with another hobby of mine (e.g., journaling in Spanish or reading in French).

An ON week coming up.

Tools pictured: Night owl by Owl Paper Co planner, Asvine P50 fountain pen, Tombow Fudenosuke hard tip brush pen, Zebra Mildliner highlighters

#the update nobody asked for #language learning #language tumblr #langblr #language blog #languages #studyblr #persian #farsi #cantonese #french #spanish #english #lang blr #language blr #vocabulary #study #i may update how things go as I start this system

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week In Review XVI & 2023 Wrapped

I feel like 2023 just started five minutes ago, am I the only one who feels like this year as passed by quickly but at the same time dragged its heels?

I've seen so many lovely end of year close out posts and years in review. I toyed with how I wanted to close out the year and what I could say that could sum it up sufficiently.

Betty rambles under the cut with this weeks reads if you're interested...

2023 has been a weird year if I'm entirely honest and somewhat isolating. I returned from mat leave, back to working from home, and having to scramble to make adjustments when things fell through. Which resulted in Mr. Truly and I working opposite shifts to ensure the S.S. Truly stayed afloat.

But during the last six months somehow I made it back to Tumblr, to an old account from way back when - pre-dating when the Canucks made it to game seven kinda old - I blew off the dust, cleaned house and made myself a little space. I still don't know 100% how it all happened, though I think it started with the Reddit forum.

You don't need to know the whole spiel about Pedro, because while we're here because of him, it's the community that holds us here. After floating and not really knowing what I was doing, I started to make connections within this community and finding a seat at the table (we'll come back to that) and I found joy again. I'd kinda lost myself in the fog that is half a dozen other titles/roles others looked to me as that had replaced just Betty.

I started writing, hadn't done that in years. I rekindled by love for graphic design, what I went to school for. I was reading books again, as well as so many great fanfics here. I even bought poetry books, something I hadn't done since I don't know when.

I've been really fortunate in my experience that I've encountered so many wonderful people. I may not get to be as social as I'd like to be, and I still have a fear of dropping into DM's & Asks unannounced. I have the shittest memory, if I don't keep a tab open or reply straight away it's sometimes days or weeks before I remember again. But I really hope that I've returned in kind what others have given me because I'd hate for anyone to feel like they don't belong here, because you do.

This community is a table (told you I'd come back) and it's size is immeasurable. It has no bounds and there's always room for whatever kind of chair you pull up and if you don't have one? We'll find one. Need to leave for a while? We'll save your seat. This my friends is a community, and if you're met with those who tell you the table is full, I'm telling you now, they're not a part of it.

Are there going to be those with more notes? Yes. Are there going to be people you're going to compare your writing to? Yes. Are you going to maybe want to pack it all in and delete your masterlist now and then? Yes.

But none of that takes away anything that makes you, you and what you bring to the table.

Life is hard enough without the added pressure of thinking you need to score imaginary internet points with stats and metrics that carry no value. I wish I knew the magic formula, because I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but let's try and be kinder to ourselves eh?

But I'm really going into 2024 with the goal of curating my own joy - whether it be indulging in the fanfics I want to write and read, more obnoxious coffees, a new fountain pen, giving myself permission to buy the fancy notebook, get back to baking or binging both seasons of Julia and pretending I can make one of her recipes.

So to sum it up, before this goes into a further incoherent ramble, this year has been about reaching out, starting connections and building something meaningful. I've met some amazing people that I am lucky to call friends and without their kindness and extending a seat at the table I'm not sure I'd still be around these parts.

Here's to more of that in 2024 - while I'm not always the best at replying to messages, my DM's and Ask's are always open, feel free to drop in at any time 💕

Pedro Tax™️ for your time...

T R U L Y  U P D A T E S . . .

December x 500 is complete-ish? Thanks to being sick towards the end of the month there's three entries missing, but I'm hoping to sneak them in during the new year! I'm looking forward to a quieter writing schedule that's for sure!

W H A T  I  R E A D . . . Didn't read as much as I wanted to this week - but I'm off this next week, so hoping to do a little more and get through some of my TBR list!

All I Want for Christmas (Frankie) by @morallyinept This was a delightful festive meet-cute that had me on the edge of my seat and also explores the character of Frankie and the ramifications of his actions on his friendships and his ex. 

All I Want (Will Miller) by @laurfilijames This was a bittersweet one-shot that touched on the idea that the festive season isn’t always for everyone and that you never know what’s going on with someone. 

I Put My Book Down to Be Here (Dieter) by @frenchiereading My first New Year’s Eve fic I’ve read this season and it’s so sweet and has a soft Dieter (my fave), who is still his chaotic self! I loved this from start to finish and such a great meet-cute!

Had Me Fooled (Dave) by @wildemaven Heidi has done such an amazing job with this mini series that can be read as a standalone or as a series. I love a soft Dave and Heidi does it so well. This last one had my toes curling in all their romantic glory and I will be revisiting this series again I'm sure!

Reunions (The Thief) by @ladamedusoif I'm behind on Rose's December prompts, but this was the steamy follow up to My Kiss, Only For You (go read that first, no seriously, go read it) and it was so delectable and my greedy self hopes we see these two again in the future.

Cookies (Tim) by @ladamedusoif Speaking of delicious things, this was as indulgent and sweet as the cookies made in this fic. Tim was one of the characters I didn't see becoming such a favourite this year - but I love seeing everyone's interpretation of him. This one here? In my top ranked versions 🫠

So here's to 2024!

Thank you for every interaction, reblog, or tag - every single one is held clutched to my heart in appreciation every time!

Stay safe, and whatever you're doing or wherever you are sending you much love!

#betty's sunday in review #sunday week in review #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[misc-obeyme]

hiii 👋 may i request #28 (wish) for lucifer? i'm not sure if anon can send a request, so if not, please feel free to ignore mine~ thank you so much and warmest congratulations on your milestone! 💙

Hi there! You're good, it's totally fine to send a request on anon!

I must admit that this one got a liiiittle suggestive at the end, but only a little! Anyway, I think it turned out okay, so I hope you like it!

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Lucifer with prompt Wish

Warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but it's so little that I don't really think it needs a warning lol putting it here just in case

It was a nice cool evening in the Devildom and you were walking through the streets with Lucifer. The two of you had managed to leave the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers noticing and tagging along. You didn't necessarily mind when that happened, but it was nice to be alone with Lucifer.

He had simply come to your room and asked you to go shopping for a new fountain pen with him. You were certain that this was just an excuse, but you didn't question it.

Now you were walking along the streets, stopping here and there in random shops. Lucifer didn't seem especially interested in any pens you came across.

Eventually you came to a little plaza with a beautiful fountain at its center. The plaza was devoid of people, only filled with the light splash of the water. The fountain had a large basin and three smaller basins, all decorated in engravings of dark roses. The bottom of the main basin was a beautiful mosaic featuring more dark roses. You couldn't help but notice that it was completely clean - nothing littered the bottom of the fountain basin.

You turned to Lucifer who was standing by your side. "Don't demons make wishes in fountains?"

Lucifer looked at you quizzically. "Wishes? Why would they?"

You turned back to the fountain. "I guess it's just a human thing. We throw coins into fountains to make a wish, so human world fountains have a lot of different coins on the bottom of them. I didn't see any here, but that makes sense now."

Lucifer grimaced momentarily, no doubt thinking of the trouble Mammon would get into if he knew about this human tradition. Then he said, "Would you like to make a wish in this fountain, MC?"

You laughed. "It's a little silly," you said.

Lucifer placed a shiny Grimm coin in your hand. "I would like to see this human tradition."

You studied his face. He didn't seem to be making fun of you. In fact, his expression was quiet serious. So you closed your eyes, made a wish, and tossed the coin in. When you heard the soft ploosh of the water, you opened your eyes again.

You watched as Lucifer followed your example, throwing his own coin into the fountain. He turned to you, a gentle expression on his face as a soft breeze ruffled his black hair. "And so? What did you wish for?"

You smiled. "I can't tell you. It won't come true."

Lucifer laughed softly, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you to him. "Humans have such silly notions."

You let your hands rest on his arms and shrugged. "We wish on shooting stars and birthday candles, too."

"Ridiculous," Lucifer said, but his tone was light. He leaned in to kiss you, one of his hands reaching up to cradle the back of your head.

You couldn't resist opening your mouth for him as your hands gripped his arms hard, your bodies flush against each other.

Just when you thought things were getting a little too heavy for you to be in public, Lucifer pulled away to look at you. He kept his arms around you and said, "I see. Your coin in the fountain method is quite effective. My wish has just come true."

You almost laughed at how serious he was. You grinned at him. "I guess it isn't as silly as you thought."

"And your wish, MC?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I told you, I can't tell. But let's just say it won't come true here."

Lucifer smirked. "Then I must insist you come back to my room so I may fulfill your wish by morning."

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #misc 500 followers event #misc writes

[dontcallmecarrie]

On Echoes and Parallels

writer's block bites, but here, have some momentary introspection on birthdays .

Justin Hammer glared at the tiny box sitting on their desk, and the ridiculously shiny Rolex Daytona winked back.

Why on earth their father thought they’d like it, Justin had no idea— for one, they leaned more towards understated elegance and timeless styles. Steph had teased them more than once as a kid for dressing like an old man, but considering their family’s entire aesthetic was “different shades of old money”, they’d fit right in.

…but now they’d catch an earful for “being ungrateful” if they didn’t wear the watch that was the current bane of their existence, and that wasn’t even mentioning the whole ‘part of your late grandfather’s watch collection so show some respect, boy’ emotional snarl that was the true crux of the matter.

Because Justin could count on one hand how many memories they had of their grandfather, but the man, like all Hammers, had been a piece of work.

However, his untimely death before Justin had hit the double digits apparently wiped the slate clean. Of course, having an ironclad will probably helped, but it’d still taken the better part of a decade the man’s estate completely settled.

For as it turned out, all Hammers had their own vices, and while Justin’s father was skirtchasing, Humphrey Armitage Hammer’s had been collecting. Had he been any poorer, he probably would have been deemed a hoarder— but as it was, the Hammers probably could have turned over his storage units over to a museum or three without anyone batting an eye.

Or, well, mostly: Justin was 99% certain his art collection had stuff stolen by Nazis, considering how tight-lipped their parents got whenever the topic came up. His fountain pen collection was much more innocuous, but his coin, gun, and watch collections were probably worth more than the net worth of several countries put together.

Justin’s parents would had been more than happy to get rid of most it, but.

Apparently, that would make the family look bad, with people possibly going “look at how this man’s legacy is being squandered” and, of course, that would never stand. So, instead, now everything that had belonged to Grandfather went to storage, with the odd relic dusted off and flaunted. Such as, for instance, the shiny Rolex sitting on Justin’s desk.

They probably sounded spoiled, Justin knew; what other eighteen-year-old would complain about receiving their grandfather’s extremely expensive watch?

Except said grandfather had literally hundreds of watches just gathering dust in some storage facility, and it’d been Justin’s father who’d grabbed at random and shoved it at him with a gruff “congratulations, you’re a man now,” and called it a day.

Like they needed the extra headache after keeping the peace between their parents and Steph, especially today of all days. But if he didn’t show up to his own birthday party wearing it, Justin would catch hell from his father, and contend with his mother’s austere disapproval for the next decade.

Ugh. The only silver lining was that their attention span was next to nonexistent when it came to Justin, so so all he had to do was bear it today and conveniently ‘lose’ the watch afterwards— really, sometimes it paid off to be so estranged from parents who’d never quite forgiven him for not being a genius. With his luck, Justin could grab a fountain pen from storage, pretend his father had graciously picked it out, and nobody would either notice or care.

Which, predictably, is exactly what happened.

However, what no one could have predicted was what happened a couple of years later, when Tony Stark became an orphan one cold December night.

.

That Christmas had been rough, but also alerted Justin to the fact that his rival was going to be facing his first birthday without his parents. And sure, he had Jarvis looking out for him, and Obadiah Stane, Justin couldn’t quite help but feel that they should be doing something too— come on, it was for Tony’s eighteenth birthday.

So, after they headed home after that Christmas, Justin got to thinking. Their plans for Steph were currently at a delicate stage, so they’d need to be careful no matter what they decided on. Not to mention their extremely limited budget— their parents would never approve of anything they did to even potentially benefit their rival, after all.

Then they caught a glimpse of the tiny box sitting in the darkest corner of the room, and had an idea.

While the watch wasn’t their style, that level of flashiness perfectly matched Tony’s. Not to mention that a Rolex was a perfectly respectable brand, and considering the rumors of Tony being fast-tracked to CEO? It’d probably be nothing compared to the actual genius he brought to the table, but every little bit helped when it came to stockbrokers and shareholders.

“Thanks, Justin.” Tony said, smile bright and an strange amount of amusement on his face considering everything, until— “is there a reason it has ‘Hammer’ engraved on it?”

Justin froze. Then, once the words registered, they forewent any semblance of dignity in favor of a facepalm because really, they should have expected this. “That— I am so sorry, it was my grandfather’s. He had a habit of putting his name on everything.”

“Your grandfather?” Tony repeated, and now his voice sounded strange. Which, fair, it wasn’t like Justin ever brought him up beyond a vague, ‘may he rest in peace’ manner and having him come up now was probably not their brightest moment.

Justin tried to keep their shoulders from hunching defensively. “Yes, my grandfather. If you don’t like it, I can…”

They trailed off for a moment, because their first thought was to say, ‘I can get you another one,’ except, well, they couldn’t. Not when their parents controlled so much of Justin’s finances, and they’d never approve of such an expense as a gift for Tony Stark of all people.

“No, don’t, it’s great! The man had good taste.” Tony said, interrupting Justin’s thoughts and visibly brightening as he went on.

“I thought you’d like it.” Justin said, and they hadn’t meant to let their voice sound so soft but it was the truth.

…a truth that ended up going much further than they’d expected, as Tony took to wearing that watch everywhere.

#No Hero [Downward Descending] #schrodinger's canon #3 am musings #my writing

[monstress]

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

#answered #poseida #journals #journaling tips #also in return i need to know what u did to change your attitude with drawing! i need to get back on that horse!

[themetalvirus]

final pen update for now its sitting completely disassambled in my desk until i get around to cleaning it (im currently trying to clean my messy ass room) cause im scared its gonna get stuck again 👍 also i need to add i do not know how to clean pens nor what kind of fountain pen this is, its fully transparent and i got it at a daiso japan years ago

OOH, fully disassembled you say??? i'm really interested in a picture of this pen omg

it should be fine to wash with your fingers + warm water (no soap) - rinse it out a bit, wiggle it around, the works. it'll need to soak in warm water for a while (about a day) to loosen up any suuuper dried out bits, and then you can try rinsing it out with more warm water. if it's still SUPER stubborn, try a pen flush

#exoticbutterstxt

[mantispire]

I’d love to hear your Ironqrow headcanons!

I have like an entire barbie dreamhouse with these characters in my head so I have legitimately hundreds... here are a few that might be the most interesting/whatever... I'm sort of shy about sharing this stuff. Laugh

I think they met back during the Vytal tournament and faced off in their one/one match. Qrow won + they kept contact over the years.

They have a /lot/ of really rough patches + a history of really bad arguments, usually hinging on Ozpin and his decisions/ their own stresses as a scout/headmaster/general/ the million other things Jame and Qrow both deal with over the years + both of their entire separate PTSDs

During the 'events of canon' ( v 1-3-> ) they're divorced and hadn't really spoken in years. I think they were married for a sort of comically brief time but it was a nightmare due to aforementioned ^ issues. They're both stubborn and have a lot of disagreements so I don't think the marriage was able to last + everyone around them knew it.

I headcanon that when they were most stably together ( like late 20's/early 30's? I need to figure out The Ironqrow Timeline in my head but that requires a lot of exploration I'm too tired to do right now ) that they tried to have a kid together. It didn't work out + both of them have a lot of feelings about it that stuck around even as they get older

Qrow ended up spending a lot of time away from James / away from Atlas especially while he had to help Taiyang raise the girls after Summer died. This didn't help their really patchy relationship -- just a lot of both of them being pulled apart by life's events.

Qrow was there with James ( as best as he could be ) as he underwent the years-long process of healing from the "paladin incident" -- lots of waiting with bated breath during surgeries and sitting at James's bedside and helping him through physical therapy etc etc etc. He was drinking at this time though and spends a lot of time regretting that he wasn't 'there' more, even though James just remembers Qrow's love and how faithfully he'd been there for him through a /lot/ of humiliating and horrible moments

I like to imagine ( in my dollhouse. This isn't relevant to canon at all. ) during v7/ Qrow's return to Atlas they start to patch things up, sort of mentally returning to the place they were when they met: one of mutual appreciation, slowly starting to undo a lot of their interpersonal problems and finding that ease and comfort with eachother once again that they'd lost. Like they come back to the metaphorical dusty empty home they left and start to clean things up. I think James would be a really big instrument in Qrow's stopping drinking and would have helped him through the process both physically and mentally. I just think they would slowly start to ease into one another, so much older now but also healed in a lot of ways. The world wont have been any better but they've both been through so much and can finally find that comfort in each other.

Qrow misplaces James's favorite fountain pen without thinking and James spends the whole day looking for it because he can't function without the specific pen he needs to use. Qrow returns it with an apology at the end of the day because he realized he'd accidentally put it in his pocket. James is just happy /he/ didn't leave it somewhere and it didn't get damaged or anything.

Sorry these got sort of serious... a lot of the silly ones are pretty contextual and small. but this is my ironqrowverse. I hope this all makes sense... thanks for reading, if anyone survived my rambling. LOL

#inquiry #ironqrow #qrow branwen #james ironwood #headcanons

[lazywitchling]

I have two cubby-shelf-things in the headboard of my bed. The one directly behind where I sleep and sit to watch my shows has: my glasses case, cleaning cloth, chapstick, lotion, scrunchie, the remote for my ceiling fan, and a drawer with various things like a hand mirror, tweezers, nail clippers, zit cream, etc. They're all the things that sometimes I need to grab when the lights are off, so I can just blindly paw around above my head to reach them.

The other cubby is to my left and behind me, so it's a little more of a reach. These are things that I don't need immediately, but still want to be able to grab without getting up. It's a small notepad, my jar of pens, a small photo diary, my d&d notebook, wired earbuds with microphone for d&d, my Fancy Grimoire, my Jes vs Witch Books notebook, the Book of the Lady, and my WitchQuests study buddy. Then next to those is another set of small drawers that used to house random junk, but now houses my gel pens, pastel hilighters, and fountain pens. Next to that are the things that are out of reach unless I really lean over, and I never want to do that, so they're things like very old spellbooks from when I was in middle school, my farthest-left-leaning zines, and generally loose papers and stuff that I don't need to reference, but want to keep very nearby where I can feel protective of them.

So... organizing these cubbies is... a task. I have to fit The Most Stuff but it also needs to be The Right Stuff and it all has to be in The Right Order and some things cannot be blocked, and other things MUST be blocked for safety but also be accessible my moving only one small thing.

TETRIS is a life skill.

#lazy witchblogging #hey how about I go to bed now.

[daftpatience]

I've added so many pens to my wishlist because of your blorbo assignments, I also got a maruman notebook because of your kim hc.

Im obsessed with your stationary stuff, keep it up! Do you have any opinions on fountain pen inks?

oh oh oh more pen stuff!! there are two big categories of fountain pen inks, dye based and pigment based.

dye based inks are super common, bright, water soluble, and low maintenance, they're easy to clean out of a pen. they're great if you're looking for something low maintenance or really colourful!

pigment based inks are more permanent, have less variety in colour, and are made out of larger particles than dye so you'll have to clean your pen out regularly. they're great if you use your pens for lineart that you need to not smudge with subsequent wet passes.

one thing that is important to know is that not just any ink can go in a fountain pen. things like dip pen or calligraphy inks are usually made out of particles way too large for a fountain pen, and they can clog them up really bad and even damage the nib. make sure when you're searching for inks that they're made specifically for fountain pens!

in terms of recommendations, i've mentioned before that i'm deeply in love with ferris wheel press inks. they have some really unique and pretty colours, and those bottles are just to die for!!! (you might notice that fwp inks look really dilute in the bottle compared to other inks, but! they actually edit the bottle pics to reflect the colours of the inks. personally i kinda like it, helps me visualize >:3 just good to know that they are pretty dark in the bottle in actuality.)

tbh at this point i don't have a ton of experience with other inks, but once again jetpens has some fantastic articles!!

in the end tho the most fun part is just looking for colours that tickle your fancy!!

#fountain pens #im so flattered that u like my recs enough to buy stationery omfg #im an enabler w my friends so its cool to be an enabler to the nice people in my computer too #blorbo pen headcanons #autismposting

[eggbunni]

How to make your Kaweco Sport fountain pen write wetter! ⚠️ Do not attempt this if you cannot afford another nib unit replacement ($14 USD)!

My Kaweco M nib has always given me trouble. When I heard you could MacGuyver the nib and feed yourself with just an Xacto knife & brass shims (super affordable tools, btw) I thought, why not? I had about 4 other nib units to spare. May as well give it a shot.

My first go-around, I was too afraid to damage my feed, and had no idea what flossing my tines would do. So I used the smallest gage of brass, and barely added pressure while razoring the feed channel. In this stage, I think all I did was clean my pen a little. Which was fine. It added a touch of juice. But I needed more.

In stage 2 and 3, I got progressively aggressive. I added more pressure, even going so far as to attempt to shave off sides of the feed channel slightly with my Xacto blade, then flossing out whatever was left behind with my shims. I also graduated to the largest shim size when flossing my tines to really nudge those babies out wider. This gave me the juuuuice I needed! 😍💦 Next time, I’m skipping straight to flossing my feed and widening the channel instead of taking it easy with an Xacto. BUT! Starting gently gave me peace of mind I wasn’t totally nerfing my nib unit.

Now my fountain pen writes with much more lubrication. Like a slip & slide on the page. I’m putting all my shimmers & shaders in here!

Good luck attempting this at home! Save it and share it with your pen friends to spread the knowledge around! 🥰

#fountain pens #fountain pen #fountain pen repair #kaweco #kaweco sport #brass shim #fountain pen tutorial #nib repair #nibmeister #fountain pen mod #stationery #tutorial #how to

[o-wyrmlight]

May I learn about the fountain pens?

Fountain Pen cool because many come with ink converters, which means you can suck up fountain pen ink from bottles to use and makes them reusable

Also can be used with ink cartridges which are disposable, but why do that when you can buy bottles of ink that come in loads of different colors? My guy I have purple ink and have ordered blue and green ink I am Swimming in it

Requires a lighter touch than ballpoint pens which can help mitigate cramping hands and issues related to that

Very pretty designs

Can be very very expensive. Like in the $10,000s. But also really really cheap. ...Like $30s.

The large price is mostly for collectors I'm pretty sure. So like. Don't worry too much about that. At some point the quality isn't going to get much better per the price point. And there are some neat, cheaper pens.

Seriously I have a bamboo pen I really like that cost no more than $30 and another rosewood that cost about the same. I bought a 4-pack of cheap, bulky pens for $20. I bought (and promptly lost) another pen for $17. The most I've spent on a pen is the most recent one I got which was on sale for about $48 (from about $70 and looks nice anyway so), and I have my eye on a very pretty green one from the same company that's naturally that price.

There are also disposable fountain pens that come in like packets and stuff. Pack of 12 for like $20. If you're unsure if you like fountain pens you can start off with that, but it should be known that the writing quality of it might not be the best. When I try using a disposable fountain pen, sometimes the ink flow cuts off at certain angles, which I don't get with non-disposable fountain pens.

Different-sized nibs for different-sized line thickness! Fine is thinner than medium, which is thinner than broad. There's also nibs that have a sort of flatness that adds dimension and variation to your writing--I haven't gotten a broad nib or a nib with a stub, but they seem really interesting. Medium is the most frequently-used nib.

Another thing--different brands have different nib sizes due to variation! Nibs are made by companies outside of the actual producers of the fountain pens themselves, and there is variation from one pen to another, especially from a nib company to another.

Since inks tend to run wetter in fountain pens, they take longer to dry. They also tend to require higher-quality paper to mitigate bleeding. Different companies of inks also have different formulas for their inks, so some run wetter than others or can take longer to dry.

I'd recommend only using one or two pens at any one point of time unless you write with pens a lot. The ink can otherwise dry and get stuck in the pen, which leads to you having to clean it out. Also be sure to keep in mind which ink you're using for which pen, as with different ink compositions, they might interact with each other in a bad way and make the ink not flow properly. Then you'd need to clean it out anyway, and that's not fun.

Cleaning out an ink involves using the converter the pen comes with and flushing it out with water. You don't want to use rubbing alcohol because it can mess up the nib pretty badly. What I tend to do is I run water into and out of the converter and the nib, changing out the water from a small little custard cup or something similar from time to time, until no more ink comes out. Then I take the converter off of the nib and set the nib in the water for a few hours. When I take it out, I let it dry before I use it.

Fountain pens are not calligraphy pens! Don't apply pressure to the nib in the hopes of getting line variation, because doing so will end up damaging the nib!

There are people who make their careers out of 'tuning' fountain pens. I'm not sure what exactly this involves, but I have some suspicions for what it is.

At least one of my cheaper pens has a feeder (the black thing on the nib of a fountain pen) that's misaligned with the rest of the nib. It still writes okay, but I'm sure that the misalignment affects the ink flow in some way.

My collection, which includes, in order of when I got/used them:

3 bottles of black inks and 1 bottle of purple ink (for experimentation)

First pen: Beiluner Silver luxury pen, Extra Fine nib. Has Noodlers Purple Martin ink in it. The body is actually made of metal

Aifeter(?) Wooden Bamboo Pen, medium nib. Obtained at the same time as Rosewood but used first. Probably one of my favorites. It doesn't look like Amazon is selling this one right now, but it also comes as a bamboo ballpoint pen for $16.

Woodsworth & Black Rosewood Medium pen.

3/4 Gullor fountain pen pack, Medium. Definitely the cheapest ones I have. They have thick plastic bodies but can come in more colors than seen here. The feeds are misaligned with the nib itself. 3/4 because I gave one to my mom. The pen caps do not stay on the back of the pens. Yellow pen has either Noodlers Bernanke Black or Woodsworth & Black Mysterious Black.

Scrivener silver chrome fountain pen, medium nib, retail price $70 but caught on sale for about $40 that's still going on. Just received today and haven't gotten to try it out yet.

Disposable Fountain Pen. Arteza, came in a pack of 12. Since it comes in a pack with ink already in it, and are made to be disposable, you don't need to worry as much about the ink drying up in it. It's difficult to write with at certain angles due to certain angles cutting off the ink flow, but they're definitely the cheapest and most affordable option I have. Since they're cheap and disposable, these are the ones I'd probably prefer carrying on me most frequently when at work. Because of the occasional difficulty writing with it, though, I mostly opt for one or two of my other pens.

I also found that pen I thought I lost... It was on my night stand of all places.

Hongdian 1843 Navigator Fountain Pen, Fine. This is the only pen I have with a silver nib, and while it touts itself as Fine, it feels more like a Medium. Unlike the other pens, this one has a screw-on cap, which makes it a bit irritating to cap and uncap frequently. Feed is subtly misaligned but it writes well enough and has a good weight to it. Either Woodsworth & Black Mysterious Black ink or Noodlers Bernanke Black. Aside from the pack of 4, the cheapest pen.

Pictured: The misaligned feeder (black) on my cheap yellow pen.

Pictured: A comparison of different converters of the 3 cheap fountain pens I have. From left to right, the converter of the yellow pen is full of ink; the red pen has no ink but is still connected to the nib; and the blue pen both doesn't have any ink in the converter and is disconnected from the nib. You twist the black extension at the bottom of the converter in these pictures to intake air or liquid, and also to push air and liquid out.

Pictured: Two packages of two different types of ink cartridges. Ink cartridges tend to carry more ink in them, but aren't generally reusable. To use them, you remove the converter from the pen and use the cartridge in place of the converter.

More or less, fountain pens are. Pretty neat I guess you could say. I was only able to recall the names of these pens because Amazon keeps track of all of your orders.

As a bonus, here is the current most expensive fountain pen on Amazon so you know how ridiculous these prices can be:

Versus the knowledge that every single one that I currently have, I've never paid more than $50 myself.

This is the one I have my eye on, by the way. It's so handsome.

#fountain pen #fountain pens #thank you for opening up the floodgates and letting me write about this on my phone #for about 40-60 minutes lol

[eagle-writes]

Ok so your works are kinda fire so i’ll request “pobody’s nerfect” but more importantly what do you think would be the best way for a beginner to start in calligraphy?

Pobody’s Nerfect

Ink: Diamine Red Dragon

There’s some irony here in that, thanks to this ink being more smudgy than expected, I did this three times. And I’m still annoyed at being able to see my lines.

Anyway, there’s a million resources out there for learning calligraphy. If you’re not terribly concerned with historical accuracy, they’re great inspiration! And can help out with *how* to do some of the trickier things (I’m currently trying to learn a style where you have to rotate the pen while writing and… it’s not going great).

But to get quickly started, consider what general style of calligraphy you want to do, because this governs your tool choice. Are you trying to do something like most of what I’ve shown here, or a “blackletter” which most westerners think of when calligraphy is mentioned? Or more like copperplate, where the width of the line varies with pressure?

For my style, you’ll need a broad edge nib (nib = the bit that touches the paper). For more copperplate, you’ll need a pointed flexible nib.

For flexible nibs, with few exceptions, you’ll need a dip pen - both nibs (on left) and a nib holder. For broad nibs, you’ve got a bit more choice - you can use dip pens (in middle, inserted in a nib holder), or fountain pens. Pilot Parallel pens are a common recommendation. The Kaweco Perkeo (on right ) is also a decent option.

Once you’ve chosen your tool, you can look at inks. With dip pens, you’ve got lots of choices, but you really need to make sure to always clean your nib *immediately*. With fountain pens, you have to be a little more careful because some inks can be corrosive, which is a problem when you leave the pen filled.

And then, paper. Generally speaking, heavier paper, specifically designed for wet media, behaves better. Standard copier paper might bleed/feather.

Also, be aware, each of these variables can mean the difference between having fun and hating life. An ink might work great with one pen but blurp everywhere in another. The nib may slide smoothly over one paper and get all clogged up with fibers from digging in to another. What you think is working *great* suddenly falls to pieces when you try to erase your guide lines.

And, yeah, it takes a decent bit of time and patience and supplies to figure out what combinations of things work for you. I’m clearly still figuring this out myself.

So, now you have stuff! Before you start writing, just play with your tools. If you’re using a broad nib, see how it makes different lines when you hold the nib at different angles. Make straight lines, curved lines, swoops and swirls and squiggles. See if you can push the nib, or only pull. For the pointed/flexible nibs (they’re cheap for a reason - buy several) see just how far they flex. Try writing with the paper tilted at different angles and see what that does. Try just writing in your normal style - what works? What doesn’t? Learn how your tools behave.

Then just… practice. Pick a letter. Write it for an entire line. Fill an entire page with it, until you can consistently make a letter you like. Rinse and repeat. Now you have an alphabet.

And with that, you can start asking random strangers on the Internet to feed you phrases to practice with :)

#calligraphy #calligraphy practice #calligraphy advice #ask Eagle-writes

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 55: History Lessons & Arcane Confessions

SUNDAY - WINTER 7 

He felt better.

And not only because Dr. Harvey had finally declared his fingers and hand fully healed—the doctor had been most pleased at his body’s progress. His mind’s, however… well, still not 100%. But at this rate, Achilles didn’t know when he’d ever feel 100% ever again, so he might as well start learning how to live at 40%. 

That being said, there were only a few choice people he felt he could currently bare to be around. He hadn’t the energy for either idle chatter or for powering his poker face, and mercifully, it was Caroline who was manning the register at Pierre’s today, rather than Abigail or the nosy proprietor himself. Rather than remark on his strange behavior the day of the ceremony, or on his recent absence from the general store, she merely handed him his post-jog tea and wished him a good day. 

Alex was in Zuzu, Elliott out of town, and Leah hard at work on an ice sculpture for tomorrow’s festival, but Achilles was determined to keep himself out from the quicksand confines of his house today, and so, with Elliott’s novel under his arm, he ventured to Pelican Park with a small bag of grapes and his third favorite pen. 

Luck (finally) continued to be on his side. Maru and Penny were the only ones out and about around town it seemed, and they too politely kept their noses out of his personal business when they ran into each other by the fountain. 

Penny thanked him for the books he had paid for to be bound—“The students were so excited!” —before adding a rather intriguing offer. “Have you ever considered teaching? Meridian Middle is always looking for substitute teachers, if you’re ever looking for something to do…”

He could feel Maru, perceptive at usual, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes, his dry skin, the cracked lips. But having more tact than likely many others in the town, the girl chose to nod at his beanie instead. “The temperature is forecasted to drop a bit more. You should check out the spa, it’s right by my place. It opened earlier this week for the first time in like thirty years—don’t worry, I tested the water, everything’s fine—but it’s really nice. Excellent if you need a place to relax and replenish…” 

A spa, huh? Didn’t sound like a bad idea. His gloves hadn’t been enough to ease the frost from his increasingly numb fingertips, and his handwriting was definitely getting sloppier by the second. He thanked the pair and, following their directions, made his way north. 

*****

Outside of his jogs, Achilles had visited the railroad perhaps only three times since moving to Stardew Valley. It seemed a strange place for a spa. Not that the train came through the Valley all too often, but he imagined that the rumbling and horns, even just twice a day, couldn’t be the most conducive to what should’ve been a relaxing environment. 

The creamy wooden facade of the building seemed an odd choice as well, a stark contrast to the angular tempered glass of the sauna visible at the back. Wooden stools had been placed within amidst large leafy plants. They looked alive and well—quite unusual, given the Winter season. 

Most mysterious.  

He passed a small water feature gurgling near the front—he could feel the heat of the water already—and padded softly through the front doors, unsure of what to expect.

No lobby. Not even a front desk, let alone a receptionist. Just an empty square of a room, tiled in seafoam green ceramic.

Most mysterious indeed. 

To the left, the women’s locker room. He headed for the swinging door on the right. 

More seafoam tiles. Very retro—Maru had said it hadn’t been open in three decades. That being said, the space seemed clean enough. A few mint colored towels had been set out, tightly rolled, next to the showers. There was even a small weight room in the back. 

The pages of Elliott’s novel were already beginning to curl in the growing humidity. Deciding that he’d finish reading later, he dropped the binder off in one of the lockers, all empty, except for one plastered with a few faded photos of bodybuilders. He followed the trail of stifling heat out to the spa. 

Like the rest of the space, it wasn’t anything fancy. Hell, Achilles’ tub at home was nicer than this electric blue tiled wasteland (seriously, between the trains and the color scheme, how in the world was this supposed to be a place to “relax?”). But the steam was seductive, and he found himself drawn deeper into the space. The pool was large, shaped almost like a wine glass, with a narrow stem connecting the larger half to the deep end at the other side of the room. 

Not having anticipated coming here, he hadn’t brought a change of clothes. That being said, it took only a few minutes of soaking his feet in the lightly perfumed waters before he stripped down to his underwear and immersed himself completely. How had he gone through life never knowing how to properly float? Thank goodness for Alex. 

Alex… 

Breathe in.

He closed his eyes.

Breathe out. 

He was in deep now. Yes. Very deep. He could tell by the little thrum in his chest, the flutter in his rapidly beating heart. 

Well. You ought to do something about it, then. 

That’s what the Achilles of yesteryear would do. Make a move. Or, at the very least, say something, instead of pining like a pathetic, hopeless romantic. Now that part of him believed that there could be chance, that he hadn’t imagined Spirit’s Eve… 

And even if the feelings weren’t reciprocated—well, he could at least say he tried. Had done everything that he could have. No regrets, right? What was the harm? Alex wouldn’t think of him any differently. He’d turn him down gently, he could picture it even now. 

Oh wow! Really? I’m really flattered, Ash. I just… I’m not attracted to guys. I’m really sorry. But I think you’re so cool, and I’m really glad we’re friends… 

He’d be wide-eyed and apologetic. He’d probably be biting his lip, futzing with his hair, tapping his foot… Achilles couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it. 

But if his feelings were reciprocated… 

Oh. 

Was it possible for him to turn any redder in the sweltering heat of the spa? 

Oh, but was he even ready for something? Was it even fair to say anything, for either of them? He had no job, no goals, no plan. Where was he even going to be living next year? He could be back in Hyacinthia for all anyone knew… 

But what if he stayed? He had his farm, he could take Penny up on her offer, perhaps teach a bit at the middle school. And maybe… maybe he could write. 

Fat chance. You can barely string two words together these days. 

Such a quiet life it’d be, to stay in the Valley. Nothing like what he had always wanted for himself. The glitz and the glamor and the titles and awards and attention. 

If he stayed—even if Alex did want him—would it be enough? Would it ever be enough, or would he always be yearning for something more? 

You will never be content. 

*****

When he opened his eyes, there was nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to feel. No curls of steam or the gentle splash of the water. But there was a familiarity in the utter darkness, and so he was not afraid. 

“Rasmodius?” 

The lights flickered on. 

Still in the spa, he was. Thank Yoba for small favors, he wasn’t in the mood to go traipsing down a darkened tunnel to the Wizard’s supply closet. Then again, had he ever been in the mood… 

Standing across from him, pacing along the edge of the pool and still wearing his heavy black cloak, was Rasmodius. 

“Do you know what is so special about this spa?” Rasmodius’ voice, low and husky, echoed across the chamber. 

“No. I’m afraid I don’t.” 

“Nothing, now.” A bitter, empty bark of a laugh that Achilles did not return. “Nothing… just another keystone…” 

The Wizard paused his pacing to study Achilles’ stony visage through the steam. 

“You are angry with me.” 

“No.”

Like grudges, anger—pure anger, that is—was not an emotion Achilles often managed to hold on to for long. It had always burned too fiercely and too fast for him, and was usually more or less quick to settle somewhere between disgust and indifference. Nevertheless, as the syllable escaped his mouth, so too did the hollow of his apathy, to be replaced by a scarlet flash, sour in his throat like bile. 

“Actually, on second thought. Yes. Yes I am. Angry.” 

Under the milky water, his hands balled into fists, but he kept his voice steady even as his stomach churned in this sudden resurgence of rage, fueled all the more by Rasmodius’ dull-eyed, impassive stare.

He was just starting to feel like a person again, why did Rasmodius feel the need now, of all days, to disturb this fragile, newfound peace. 

“Do you remember the first day we met? Back in the Spring, after I found your scroll in the community center. You told me I had passed a test. And you said that… that maybe the Valley would need me.” God, the words sounded childish. Oh, you thought you were special? This was nothing but embarrassing.

But in his anger, he continued. 

“You were real cagey about it. Real wishy washy. Didn’t make any promises, no assurances—but it was whatever. I thought, you know, fine. Sure. Don’t think too much about it, Achilles. Find something else to occupy your time. Until a shadow brute in Sunspray Peak confirmed it. That I… that I was somehow… connected. To the mines. And to the fate of the Valley. 

“And so I brought it up to you. I wanted your wisdom, I wanted your help. But what did you do, Rasmodius? You told me to forget about it. You told me I was… useless. That I didn’t have a purpose here.” 

And that’s all you wanted, wasn’t it? A purpose. A reason why you should matter. 

“But I ended up in the mines, anyway, didn’t I? With barely a warning. Next to no preparation. Little idea of what to expect down there. But I had asked you, remember? I had asked you for help, for information, and you enchanted me instead. The things I saw down there. The things I heard… I thought I was going to die. I sometimes now wish I had.” 

Achilles was trembling now. He had tried hard not to waver, he had cried enough this past week, and he’d be damned if he shed any tears before this damned Wizard—but even so. It was hard to keep the strain from his voice. 

“God, I’m angry—fuck. But—” He collapsed against the wall, brought his hands to his forehead, covered his eyes.

He didn’t make you any promises. This was all your own fault. You wanted to be special so damn bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t just leave it all alone. You’re just looking for someone to blame. Always. You don’t deserve to be angry at anyone but yourself.  

 “I’m not angry with you. Fuck. I’m… I’m angry at— I’m pissed that… God, I wanted to start over so badly when I came here, I wanted to start something new, and I just never knew how, and I thought… I thought this was it, didn’t I? I thought this was my chance. Fucking hell…” 

Rasmodius said nothing. For a minute, the only sound was the fluorescent hum of the lights. 

When he finally turned to meet Achilles’ gaze, there was a heavy sorrow in his violet eyes. The Wizard’s shoulders were stooped as he slowly removed his hat and held the brim tightly in both hands. In a soft, quivering voice, as weak as Achilles had ever heard it, Rasmodius said, “I owe you an explanation. But I first must ask if you are willing to hear it.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“The truth can be both difficult to speak and difficult to hear. You will see that I believed my actions to be justified—and that, you may not like to hear.” 

Achilles didn’t bother biting back his scoff as he paddled for the shallow end, where he could better face Rasmodius head on. He took a seat on a shelf built against the wall, still half-submerged within the comforting confines of the steaming water.

Meanwhile, the Wizard had conjured closer one of the wooden benches that had been lining the upper half of the pool. He fixed his robes and took a weary seat. 

And once Achilles had made himself comfortable, he began. 

*****

“I had always had an interest in spirits. From a young age, I found that I could speak to them. And they to me. And thus, it came to be that to visit the Astral Plane was as easy as stepping foot into my own home. 

“I began to devote the bulk of my work to their study, and in my research, I found myself drawn to a trivial little town situated in a trivial little valley tucked into the southern coast of the Ferngill Republic. Most of my compatriots cared little for history—it is not quite so flashy a field as others, as you can imagine—but I knew my pursuits would one day pay off, and so despite their ridicule, I studied on. 

“The land that is now called Stardew Valley had been a major battle ground during the Spirit Wars, though most of its secrets and stories have naturally been lost to time over the past two thousand years. That being said, magic leaves its marks. And I, young and naive, and desperate to prove my worth, was confident I would be the one to uncover them.

“The original inhabitants of the land—this was roughly three centuries ago—came for the iridium buried deep within the Sunspray Mountains. Stardew Valley a mining town. Can you imagine that? 

“With thanks to a certain Mayor Jonathan Keppler, for whose diary I spent decades searching, I learned that several years after the founding of the town, the miners accidentally uncovered a long forgotten artifact from the beginning of our world, from before the Wars, before humanity, even. A Portal, leading directly from the Spirit Plane into ours. 

“It was not supposed to exist. As you know, the Portals were all destroyed to prevent another war. 

“But in finding this Portal, the townsfolk must have woken it, and in doing so, provided the shadow spirits—who had long been exiled to the Spirit Plane after their loss in the wars—the gateway they had been waiting for to infiltrate our world. 

“Mercifully, the townsfolk were quick to recognize their mistake. The practice and study of the arcane, you see, was more widespread among the common folk such as yourself back then. The mines were quickly abandoned, and blood magic used to seal off the floors in an attempt to rectify their folly. 

“Why blood, I do not know. It is an incredibly crude sort of magic, one that demands a high price. But it is simple and straightforward; it is likely the townsfolk had little time to develop a more thorough solution.

“Regardless, it ultimately ensured that only those who shared blood with those who crafted the enchantment would be able to pass through the trapdoors that separated floor from floor. The shadow spirits, obviously having no relation to any of the townsfolk, would therefore be unable to leave the confines of the bottom most floor of the mines. Trapped forever they were, unable to escape their granite cage. You see, boy, it essentially rendered the Portal useless. 

“Stardew Valley was safe. And so, in turn, the entirety of our Plane. A war had been prevented. 

“But all magic will naturally weaken over time, if not occasionally renewed. Although the danger had passed, few folks remained in the town after these events, and I surmise that fewer still remembered the stories that their forebears told of the shadow spirits that had once nearly broken through.  

“You have been taught that the shadow spirits’ power waxes and wanes with the season, reaching a peak the week of Spirit’s Eve?” 

Achilles grunted an affirmative. 

“Approximately 40 years ago, precisely on Spirit’s Eve, we wizards heard rumblings of a severe disruption within the Spirit Plane. Something had happened. 

“What that something was, we wizards were unsure—but the disturbance was swiftly traced across the sea to Stardew Valley. My work had finally paid off. I was the obvious choice, and was swiftly selected by my guild to leave immediately for Ferngill to investigate further and report back. 

Rasmodius’ eyes gleamed—a greedy shine evident even through the spa’s steam. “I was… triumphant. I deserved this. This was my opportunity to demonstrate my worth to my guild once and for all. No longer would they sneer and turn up their noses at my endeavors. No. They would all know my name, now.

“For not only would I locate the information that we sought—I was determined to find the solution to whatever problem had clearly occurred. Singlehandedly. 

“But when I arrived, I learned that folks in this simple little town had, to use a common phrase, beaten me to the punch. I speak of course of Marlon. Gil.” 

“And Mona.” Achilles had interrupted, his voice biting and low as he watched Rasmodius for any signs of remorse. 

Rasmodius did not disappoint. His violet brows drew closely together at the mention of her name. 

“Ah. Yes. And Mona. The third member of this so-called ‘Adventurer’s Guild’…” 

Here, the Wizard’s voice wavered. A barely imperceptible shake of his head. 

“Perhaps it was jealousy. More likely it was pride. But I chose to ignore them.

“Nobody knew spirits like I did, and those three had not spent decades studying the arcane arts as I had. I did not need help, least of all the help of backwards, bumbling young villagers who likely wouldn’t recognize a spirit if one raked its poisonous claws across their face. 

“I conducted my experiments away from them. They busied themselves with what was clear to me a misinformed, futile mission in the mines, and for the first year or so, I let them carry on with their business while I carried on with mine. 

“But success wasn’t as easily found as I had anticipated. The disturbance was clearly connected to the mines, and, I assumed, to the Portal the mountain housed deep within itself. But from what I could discern, the seals upon the trapdoors were still intact. No shadow spirits had escaped their prison. I could hear their murmurs from deep within the fortress of the abandoned mines.” 

Had a breeze rippled across the water? Or perhaps the cold had come from within him, a bone chilling shiver that had sent Achilles’ body recoiling at the memory of those same murmurs. 

“I began to second guess myself. I began to miss my books, my mentors, fellow wizard and witches. Perhaps I would, in fact, need reinforcements, to better understand this puzzle.

“But war had just broken out between Ferngill and the Gotoro Empire, and in my willful pride, I had delayed too long. Almost overnight, I lost contact with my guild. I was on my own. It was what I had wanted, wasn’t it?” Rasmodius’ chortle wheezed into a sigh. “No… it was then I finally realized, I could not do this on my own. But too little too late, as they say, is that right?

“If not for Mona…” 

Rasmodius stood now, and began again his pacing along the edge of the pool. 

“She was a peculiar girl. Not a witch, but common, like yourself, and thus born with the more limited magical abilities of your kind. But she was an incredibly bright young lady—fearless and strong, and a fellow lover of history. A quick learner who had managed to teach herself a number of skills steeped in the arcane. 

“She approached me the Spring of my third year in the Valley. The Adventurer’s Guild had approached me before, of course, but only now was I, in my desperate state, willing to hear them out. 

“She spoke first of monsters that had been terrorizing the town at night. I had known this, of course, from my own examinations, but I had not given them much thought. Monsters, after all, are not spirits. They are of little danger in the grand scheme of things…”

Fuck you, tell that to all the bruises on my body. But Achilles held his tongue. 

“Now the Adventurer’s Guild had originally been working to stem their invasion. But Mona was a highly discerning young lady and she found it highly unusual the rate at which the monsters only seemed to gain strength and numbers, no matter how many they killed.

“For weeks, she diligently traced their tracks back to the Sunspray Mountains, and subsequently surmised there must have been something strange happening down in the mines. Something must have been providing extra power to the monsters. 

“That was when the Guild began their subterranean expeditions. And they discovered…” Rasmodius paused. A deep sigh left him, and he sat back down on the bench, hunched again, his forearms resting against his thighs. “And they discovered precisely what I had failed to see. 

“The seals in the mines had weakened significantly. The spirits had broken through the bottom most floor and had been spilling into the upper caverns. 

“Most were still unable to leave the mountains. The enchainments hadn’t fallen entirely, and only the strongest spirits could fully overcome the residual blood magic as well as the tether of the Portal —but even so. It was enough. The mines—one of the most vital keystones of the Elemental Walls that protected the Valley—had fallen to the shadow spirits. I realized then that the collapse of this first keystone must have been the disturbance we wizards had felt across the Gem Sea that Spirit’s Eve. 

“What is more, those spirits who could overcome the tether had already made their way to destroy the second closest keystone. The community center. There are five keystones in the Valley, Achilles. One falling was bad enough. Two would be disastrous. Three entirely apocalyptic. With three keystones destroyed, the entire Wall would fall. We would not be able to recover.” 

“How had I missed it? It was right under my nose. I had spent years studying the site, and I had not even an inkling. I hadn’t heard the spirits. Not on the surface—no, I had only heard their trapped screams deep within the crust of the earth.

“I began to question everything. What else had I missed? How had I failed to sense their presence at the community center? Were the other keystones safe? And why had I been so determined to act alone? 

“Yes, I had been prideful, yes I had thought myself above the Adventurer’s Guild—but to have been so dismissive, after a year of no progress? Why had I waited so long to have reached out to my guild for help? 

“That is when I knew… That, Achilles, is when I knew. I could not trust the voices. I could not trust my own thoughts. The shadow spirits must have infiltrated my mind—taking advantage of my arrogance, twisting my own thoughts to ensure that I did not get in the way of their success…

“That being said, we refused to give up. Mona and I put our heads together, combined our knowledge, our skills. I learned to trust her. She became… like a daughter to me.” 

Another sigh. Rasmodius buried his head in his hands. 

“Day in and day out, over the course of the Spring, we worked to find a solution in the mines, a way to revitalize the seals or perhaps implement new ones. Anything to keep the shadow spirits from continuing their infiltration. It would be a highly, highly difficult task with such a limited pool of magic—I was but only one Wizard, and Marlon and Gil’s gifts were more grounded in the physical— but we had no choice. We had to think of something, and we spent days and nights brainstorming, but it soon became clear there was only one way forward.

“We would have to destroy the Portal at the bottom of the mines. It would be difficult. It would be dangerous. But it was our only choice. Anything else would be but a temporary solution. 

“And so I joined the Adventurer’s Guild. Joined them on their expeditions into the earth, expeditions I had once ridiculed. Our only mission now was to destroy the Portal and save Stardew.

“I found I was able to descend, despite my lack of blood. The weakened enchantments that were allowing spirits through to the surface were of course responsible for my own success here, though of course, at the time, I attributed it all to my prodigious skill and power.” 

Rasmodius cleared his throat, and for the first time he raised his head to gaze across the water. But he didn’t look at Achilles—instead, his eyes were glazed and unfocused, frozen as they squinted at some invisible speck in the air. 

“For it was remarkable, how much… better everything was, after I joined. We descended faster than ever before. I crafted the elevator system. I found them iridium ore for their blades. I slew monsters and spirits with but a flick of my wrist. Our progress was unprecedented, because of me. Yes, I would be the reason for our success…

“But with every floor, their cries grew louder. I could still hear them. Pounding at the edges of the mind that I had now learned to close. It was difficult, cutting them off—communicating with spirits had always been but second nature to me. I had spent hundreds, if not thousands, of hours in the Astral Plane over the years. As I said, from a young age, I could speak with them… and they with me… 

“But I had learned from my previous mistakes. I was on my guard now. I kept my mind closed, and my wits sharp. I knew their tricks. I would outsmart them and destroy them, and once the war ended, I would return to my guild in Gotoro triumphant. 

“I just needed to finish this one task…

“How many floors? How many more floors remained? That is what we asked ourselves each and every hour—60, 70, 80, 90—we had to be hundreds of feet deep, and we were running out of time. Winter was just around the corner, and all the hard work, all the progress we had made would be lost. 

“Marlon insisted we ought to wait. Typical of him—he was always too cautious, never fully understood the stakes. Everything was just an adventure to him. He said we ought to sit this Spirit’s Eve out and wait for the Winter to roll over with a fresh slate. We would be better prepared this time, he said. What was the harm in waiting another year?”

A dry, hollow laugh. 

“Much could happen in a year, is what I said to him in return. The community center could fall. We could not afford to wait, we had to do this now. Strike now! 

“Of course, Gil sided with Marlon. And Mona… I was outnumbered. We argued…

“I told them I would do it myself. After all, hadn’t I been doing most of the work up till then anyhow? I didn’t need them. We had only descended so far down the mines because of me—what had they been but dead weight? 

“I had nearly one foot out the door when Mona fell to her knees, begging me to reconsider. She had two rules. Never go alone. Never leave alone. And looking at her… I knew she was right. I acquiesced. I promised. We would wait and start anew in the Spring.” 

The gleam had returned to Rasmodius’ eyes. 

“But the night before Spirit’s Eve, I woke with a fire in me—we were so very close to the bottom, I could feel it. It was now or never.

“I knew the others would never agree, and so when everyone was asleep, I stole away to the mines alone.” 

Achilles could see it. A younger Rasmodius slipping out from the Adventurer’s Guild cabin into the dead of night, black cloaks swishing at his heels, hood hiding his violet hair as he skirted through the trees further up into the mountains.

“I took the elevator to the 98th floor. I cleared it myself. I went to the 99th floor. I cleared that myself. It was proof, all of it proof, that I did not need them, that I would secure this victory alone. 

“A swarm was waiting for me on the 100th floor. The largest I’d ever seen. But I could handle it—   I had to. It was I alone of all the Wizards who studied the spirits of the Ferngill Republic, no one knew than better than I—there had to be a reason. Yes, I had been brought to Stardew Valley for a reason. This was my destiny…“” 

A drop of sweat cascaded down Achilles’ neck from his brow. 

“That’s what I told myself. Even as the swarms grew larger and larger, and I struggled more and more to stay afloat, I told myself… this is your purpose. This is what you wanted…” 

A shadow crossed the Wizard’s face. Rasmodius took a moment to collect himself. 

“I would have died that night. The spirits… they became too much for even me. If it were not for Mona, Marlon, and Gil…

“They came. To save me. I couldn’t spare even a second to ask— how? when? why?—but together, together we fought the spirits, side by side, we cleared the floor, but— ” 

Rasmodius seemed to stifle a cry. He turned away from the pool, one palm braced against the tiles lining the walls. In a low, flat voice, he continued. 

“It was too much. It was Spirit’s Eve, the spirits were at maximum strength. When the dust finally settled, both Gil and Marlon…

“Mona begged me to return with her to the surface, to get them help, but I… I could not. It was them or the Valley. I told her this was our chance. That we were close—so very close. Why else would the spirits be fighting back so hard? 

“I pressed her to continue. And to my surprise… she agreed. I have regretted that ever since. 

“We left Marlon and Gil behind. We proceeded to the next floor and the next and the next, with little energy to fight, we could focus only on finding the trap doors… 

“Then they came…”

The lights flickered—or was it Achilles’ vision? He ran a hand across his brow, felt a cold sweat continue to bead along his temples. 

“I felt them clawing at my mind the moment we stepped foot on the 105th floor.

“They charged for us. But it was Mona he wanted, not me. It had always been Mona—I would never have made it to the bottom of the mines, I realized that now. The strongest seal of all had been placed upon its doors, and even in its weakened state, I would not have been able to overcome it. I did not possess the blood. And I did not possess the power… 

“But Mona… she had the blood. It was she who had to be taken out, I had been but the bait.

“They wanted to speak with me. The Shadow King. And I… I thought myself ready to receive their message. I do not know, perhaps I believed we could broker a deal. Or perhaps… it was curiosity. Perhaps I was… flattered that the Shadow King themself wanted to speak with me. And so I lowered my mind’s defenses, allowed myself to be transported to the Astral Plane…

“But upon my mind’s arrival, I realized… it was but a distraction. A sham. The Shadow King had been in my mind already, hidden in the corner. It was only now that I recognized their voice. 

“They must have targeted me the moment I had stepped into the Valley—because of my work and studies, I had spent much time with the arcane arts, opening my mind to spirits, and they had come to know my scent well on the Astral Plane. It must have been simple for them to track me down during my visits there, to break into my mind and see the thoughts, the desires within. 

“But how, you may ask! How… I… I who had thought myself above the spirits, who had closed my mind, who had thought myself well-versed in their tricks, especially after my realization in the Spring… how? How could I have been so deceived, again? 

“This is what you must understand, Achilles. This is what I had tried to protect you from. Shadow spirits thrive on chaos and darkness. When they find you, they will infiltrate your mind, will latch onto the worst parts of yourself, feed and grow your darkest thoughts.

“Now they cannot create on their own—no, they will never introduce new ideas into your head. But you see, that is all the more dangerous. For the words they secretly whisper will never seem foreign to you. The strongest spirits are capable of integrating themselves into your thoughts seamlessly. You would never know they were there, in your mind. 

“They knew I was weary of them, but they also knew that I thought myself two steps ahead, and they chose to further magnify that belief, until I thought myself so, so far above them that I subconsciously lowered my defenses, thereby allowing more spirits in my mind. A vicious cycle, is it not… 

“That night, taking advantage of their powers strengthened by Spirit’s Eve, they made their move. Over the past season, they must have been noting my resentment, my arrogance—amplifying it when needed, fostering it, nudging it until it reached a boiling point that very night, when finally, so sure in my belief I was, that I was the only one capable of saving the Valley, I left my bed. Left for the mines. They knew Mona would follow.

“When I realized I had been so easily tricked… well, I was paralyzed. Who was I? Were my thought truly my own thoughts? Was I even in control of my own mind?

“With my mind occupied, my mortal body was defenseless. I likely would have died—all of us would have died. If not for Mona… 

“It happened so fast. By the time my mind had returned from the Astral Plane, it was all over. The spirits were gone. The monsters gone. The Shadow King’s voice no longer whispering in my ear. And Mona… 

“She had used all of her strength, all her power, to temporarily send the shadow brutes back to their Plane and seal the trap door shut anew. 

“But I told you… blood magic demands a high price. And for a single individual, a common individual, no matter how extraordinary, the extent of the enchantment… the cost was her life. With her last breaths, she made me promise to save Marlon and Gil. Made me promise I wouldn’t leave them behind. 

“I obliged. After all…” A raw exhale from Rasmodius’ nose. “What else was there for me to do? With the enchantment renewed, I could no longer pass through the trap door.

“I took the elevator to the 100th floor. Retrieved Marlon and Gil, their broken bodies. Returned to the surface. We had failed. We had failed because of me. Because I had failed. Failed myself, failed my friends. 

“Consumed with regret. With self-hatred. You see, our mission was doomed from the start, Achilles. We had no idea how to destroy a Portal. In my arrogance, I had believed I had enough power to destroy it myself. But I knew now, I could never have even descended to the bottom. Our mission… Mona’s death… utterly pointless. A waste. Such a meaningless waste… 

“And in the days and weeks and seasons that followed, I couldn’t stop asking myself… Is this what you wanted, Rasmodius?” 

*****

Achilles had not moved from his place in the spa during the length of the story. 

Though his anger had faded after his earlier realization, it had surged once again upon hearing the Wizard’s tale. But this was a different sort of anger. One that chilled the heat of the spa, cool and and disquieting. 

He waited for Rasmodius to continue—he had been promised an explanation, not a history lesson—but it seemed the Wizard had run out of steam, and so he coldly tossed from across the waters, 

“Am I supposed to be feeling sorry for you?” 

Rasmodius glanced up, as if only now realizing Achilles were still there. 

“No. I do not expect you to.”

“Good. Because I don’t. You had all this knowledge, and you didn’t bother sharing it with Abigail and I when you had the chance—” 

“Achilles—”

“—That’s why everything was so easy for Abigail at first, wasn’t it? The first 100 or so floors. She was just taking care of your leftovers, wasn’t she? Because any new spirits coming through the Portal were blocked by the new trapdoor on the 105th floor.” 

“Yes… that is correct.” 

“But you never thought to warn her what might be coming after that? Warn both of us how fucked up it was going to get after that? Didn’t think we might, I don’t know, find that useful? Just sent her down. No problem.” 

“Let me remind you, Abigail had been working with Marlon—I had no idea she had been in the mines until the end of Summer—”

“Oh, so you’re blaming Marlon and Gil for keeping her in the dark?”

“No. There is no blame there.” Rasmodius faltered. “Marlon and Gil… they do not know the full events of that night. They do not know what occurred after the events of the 100th floor.” 

“You never told them.” Achilles scoffed. “Yoba, why am I not surprised—” 

“I was too ashamed. To tell them would be to confirm what I believe they have long suspected. That I was indeed the cause of Mona’s death.” 

“And you really felt that your shame was enough to justify sending another girl unknowingly to her near-death?” 

“I knew what remained in the mines.” Here, Rasmodius snapped and jumped to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at Achilles who had seemingly touched a nerve. Nevertheless, he stubbornly remained unfazed and continued to stare the Wizard down. “I knew the danger was insignificant, that Abigail would be fine—she was never supposed to get past the 105th floor.”

“Well, you know, turns out, she did—“

“—the seal Mona placed upon it could never have been broken by someone unable to access the Astral Plane. In short, Abigail would never have been able to pass through without you—

“Oh so we’re blaming me now—”

“And you were never supposed to be down there either. At least… I had hoped you would never have to go down there…” 

Sensing another story, Achilles merely raised and eyebrow before burrowing deeper into the warmth of the water. Might as well make himself comfortable. The Wizard, on the other hand, began to once again pace, one hand kneading the layers of his robes, the other his forehead. 

“After the events of that night, I swore no one would ever go down those mines again. I worked to find an alternative solution… a way to rebuild and restrengthen the remaining keystones. I thought, perhaps, if I could find a way—then perhaps, with the seal Mona had placed on the 105th floor, that would be enough. That these two solutions combined could keep the shadow spirits at bay just until I could return to Gotoro and seek the wisdom of my guild members. 

“I sought to use the third keystone in the Valley. As valiant a fight the junimos have been fighting, the second keystone was too far gone to be saved so long as the mines continued to be in the shadow spirits’ possession.” 

So you left the junimos for dead. Just wrote them off. Sounds about right. 

“Right. And where is this third keystone?” 

“Here.” Rasmodius traced his fingers along the walls. “The hot spring below this spa was the third keystone for the Elemental Wall. Untainted by the stench of shadow spirits, I thought perhaps I could find a way to draw its energy and rebuild.” 

Rasmodius turned to face him. “And I had hoped perhaps that one day you could help me with this task. That you could be my apprentice.” 

The words came as a surprise. Achilles, who had settled back into his pejorative placidity, found himself breaking his poker face, exchanging it for a deeply furrowed brow of confusion.  

“What?” 

“The golden scroll in the community center… I told you, it was a test. I needed someone who was capable of communicating with spirits, who was able to access the Astral Plane. For many years I waited. Marlon and Gil’s gifts were, like Abigail’s, grounded in the physical. Yes, yes, it is possible to teach the art, but the difficulty increases tenfold where there is no natural aptitude. I believed it better to wait. Surely someone would come…

“The two of them were unsupportive anyway. They believed I was wasting my time. They still were following Mona’s orders… they still believed destroying the Portal was the only solution… Even I was beginning to lose hope… 

“And then you came. 

“I could see you were eager to learn. But a task of this importance is delicate, Achilles, and I needed to make sure you were right for the job, especially given your lack of experience with the arcane. I needed time to not only gauge your abilities, but your temperament. Your curiosity. How you approached problems with little guidance and information, how you handled pressure.”

“What is this, a job interview?”

Although in saying that, he supposed that, in a way, it had been. 

“I suppose I failed then,” Achilles grunted. “Bitter little bastard that I am…” 

“You scared me, Achilles. In studying you, I determined you were… toomuch like me. Eager for greatness, desperate for recognition. The shadow spirits had infiltrated my mind so easily, had taken advantage of those traits of mine, and that had ultimately led to the death of my dearest friend. And had I possessed decades of experience and training that you had not. 

“Regardless, I did not want to train you—bring you into the Astral Plane—any sooner than I needed, for the more time you spent there, the more familiar the shadow spirits would be with your scent, and the more vulnerable you would be to their influence. I feared that you would fall prey to the same things that I had. 

“Even so… I thought perhaps there was still a chance. I decided I would wait, just a bit longer, to judge your capabilities and your potential, even as Marlon informed me we were running out of time. 

“But I refused to see it. What did Marlon know of such things? I was willfully blind to the signs. The community center had lasted far longer than either of us had anticipated. Surely it could stand a few more years. 

“Even so, a part of me knew the end was near… I was studying the hot springs day and night, but I needed help and I knew I had no other choice. I would have to train you. 

“But then you fell ill, and Dr. Harvey recounted to me your strange visions and hallucinations. It was worrying—how had they found you? And so I put on the brakes. I thought you too vulnerable for training then, your scent was too fresh in the Astral Plane. I would wait again, just a little longer… 

“And then you came to me at the end of Summer, telling of a shadow brute on Sunspray Peak who spoke to you of your destiny. And it was exactly what I had feared. They had found you—you, who had spent so little time in the Astral Plane, how had they found you so easily? Already, it was evident, they were taking advantage of your desires. 

“And so yes, I enchanted you. I made you forget. I knew that if those thoughts—the thoughts that shadow brute first introduced to your mind—were encouraged, if you continued to think them, it would feed the spirits. It would be an utter frenzy in your mind, you would think of nothing else, just as I did, and it would ultimately lead you to your doom. 

“Yes. I made a decision. I would solve this myself, or I would go down the mines myself, no matter the cost. This would be my penance, for what I allowed to happen 40 years ago. 

“I did not want anymore people to die, Achilles. That is all I wanted. For you and Abigail to be safe.” 

“Funny way of showing it—” 

“But then Marlon came to me after Abigail’s accident… he took me to the community center, forced me to open my eyes. I realized then, there was no choice. We would not be able to withstand another year. It had to be done. You would have to descend. 

“But I still tried to protect you, Achilles. Sought to shield you the best that I could. You say I taught you nothing, told you nothing—yes. It was for your own good. You lacked the years of training to properly close your mind, there was not enough time—”

“You could have told me they were going to fucking control my mind or inception my mind or whatever shit, you don’t think that could’ve helped me, maybe? Help me be on the lookout—”

“Achilles, did I not tell you that I had fallen victim? I knew already the spirits would try to infiltrate my mind. Twist my thoughts. I knew! I knew everything there was to know, and yet I fell victim to them all the same. 

“If you had for even a second considered that you could outsmart the spirits, they would’ve sensed it. They need but the smallest seed of a thought—it doesn’t even have to be serious, it could have been a simple, speculative passing thought and they would latched onto it, grown it, transformed it so that it was all you could think about.

“I knew you, I saw within you myself. You could’ve believed yourself above their control, and the spirits would have sensed this, would have pushed you to take unnecessary risks you were unprepared for. No, the risk was too much.” 

“Wow, so does everyone in this Valley think I’m that narcissistic a prat—”

“Think about it, Achilles. If I had told you everything, would you not have thought yourself above it all? For even just a second, would you have believed yourself incapable of repeating the mistakes that I, of whose opinion you had was so low, had?”  

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes you do.” 

Achilles bit his lip and averted his gaze. Yes. Yes he would have. He would have thought himself better—smarter. He would’ve sworn he’d never make the same mistakes. 

Nevertheless, he plowed ahead, though more so out of sheer desperation to find some sort of fault in Rasmodius. 

Typical. Always need someone else to blame—

“It didn’t work, though, did it? You told me to close my mind, but we only won because I opened it, because I went to the Spirit Plane—”

“There is no right or wrong, Achilles! There is no single answer that guarantees success—there are a million different ways we could have defeated the shadow spirits, if we only had the time and resources and the knowledge to find them all.

 “You opened your mind and found your solution. Good. If you hadn’t, if you had kept your mind closed, perhaps you would’ve found an alternative solution that also would have worked. I told you what I believed would be the easiest and safest route to take. You adapted, you found something else. I’m glad you did.” 

The subsequent silence rang through the tile walls.

“How did he find me?” The question came out soft, like a child. “When I was sick. How did he get into my head?” 

“The Shadow King had grown in strength… I was not aware he had become so powerful, that his influence could have reached so far beyond the mines, and to have traced the scent of someone who had consciously stepped foot only once in the Astral Plane…”

“But what I don’t understand is… he made you angry. Back then— he made you impatient, you said he capitalized on your arrogance, that he brings out the worst in us. But he was making me happy. I was feeling good that Fall. And even in the mines, he told… he said hadn’t wanted to kill me.”

Rasmodius’ gaze softened, and with a sigh, he folded his hands into his robes and faced Achilles. “The shadow spirits are not evil, Achilles. ‘Spirits of evil…’ It is a misnomer, given to them after their exile from our plane. They are not harmless, no, far from it—but they naturally err towards chaos and darkness, and that intrinsically puts them at odds with our world.

“But no. They would not necessarily kill you for the sake of killing you. They only needed you out of the way. As I said earlier, Abigail never would have been able to get to the bottom with you.” 

But still… “They made me better. At first.” 

“No, they showed you that you could be better.

“Don’t you understand, Achilles? The spirits cannot create new thoughts, they can only work with what they already have. You had the capacity to be content all on your own, they only chose to exacerbate that.”

Achilles thought back to the Fall—how motivated he had felt to start his career anew. To return to his old life with renewed energy. 

“So advertising… moving back to Hyacinthia… it could make me happy?” 

“One single thing isn’t what would have made you happy, Achilles. Yes, you could have moved back to Hyacinthia, back to your old job, and have been happy. You could have also returned and had been miserable. 

“The spirits listen to your thoughts, to everything you had ever considered. That includes your hopes, Achilles. You were desperate, were you not? To find something. I suppose you likely considered multiple options, multiple routes that could have potentially brought you the purpose and happiness that you had desired. They just happen to choose one and bring it to the forefront. 

“But I must also wonder… what makes you believe it was the possibility of returning to your old life that was making you happy, Achilles? You have been so caught up with your career, did you ever think that perhaps it was something else that was making you content, in spite of these considerations?” 

Achilles paused. “I- I don’t know. It’s all… it’s all confusing. The wanting and the not wanting, I don’t… I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if I ever did.”

What do you want? What should you want? What did you ever want? 

God, it was all he could think about, wasn’t it? The questions, but never the answers.

Someone answered it for you, though. 

“On Spirit’s Eve, in the maze…” His voice was tentative, but Rasmodius was quick to interrupt his hesitance in a tone much sharper than previously used. 

“I never should have allowed you into the maze. I had no idea you were there— a careless oversight on my part… You were too raw. Too fresh. Your scent still strong in the air from when you visited the Astral Plane two nights previous, you were but a sitting duck for the Shadow King.” 

“The Shadow King. They, ah… they said some things to me…” 

Worthless. Pathetic. 

Achilles swallowed. “I suppose, from what you said… they were just repeating back to me all… all my own thoughts.” 

“That is correct.” 

“So this really was all my own fault, then, wasn’t it? Strengthening the Shadow King. These thoughts I had… who I am… how I feel… it’s what I deserved.” 

Rasmodius gave him a pitying look that sent him sweeping with nausea. 

“Everyone has thoughts, Achilles. You must remember that to merely have them does not make them true.” 

*****

After a minute or two, Achilles slowly clambered out of the water and reached for a towel. Rasmodius had returned to the bench and was observing the rising steam until Achilles asked, “The alternate plan you mentioned with the spa? Would it have worked?” 

“Given time… perhaps. But we will never know. It does not matter. What’s done is done.” 

“What’s done is done…” He swung the towel over his shoulders and stared across the pool to the other side, where Rasmodius continued to sit. “Is it all done then? The Portal’s destroyed��is the danger gone?” 

“Hmm. Not quite, though the worst is over.

“The Portal may have been destroyed, but the keystone at the mines will need to be rebuilt, as will the weakened community center. The junimos will likely take care of that one on their own. But after the Elemental Wall is fixed, yes, then we can celebrate. 

“That is why I came here today. To ask, finally, if you would like to be my apprentice. You have proven yourself more than worthy. There will be no more secrets, no more lies. Together, we can fix the Walls, and secure a victory for our kind and our names in the books.” 

Our names in the books. 

But he found the thought, strangely, did nothing for him. Achilles only gathered his clothes, eyes weary. “Why me?” 

“Is this not what you wanted? I am offering it to you now. It would be a great honor.” 

Achilles sighed, and the words that left his mouth half-surprised even himself. 

“You should ask Abigail.”  

The Wizard took a step back. “Abigail?” 

“Why, what’s wrong with Abigail?” 

“Nothing. She… she reminds me of Mona.” 

“All the more reason to ask her.” 

“Why are you not interested?” 

Why are you not interested? 

“I… I don’t deserve it. Down in the mines. I just… opened some trap doors and dropped a rock into a box. That was it. It wasn’t particularly heroic. There was no… blaze of glory, it was anticlimactic and it only happened because Abigail was knocked out after saving our asses. I don’t think I deserve the honor.” 

“None of us our heroes, Achilles. You’re a writer, you should know this. In real life, things are never quite as… cinematic. Victories and failures alike are more than often unearned and undeserved. Life is oft but a series of coincidences and conveniences.” 

Achilles sighed. The Achilles of four seasons ago would’ve given anything for this. But now… 

“This isn’t for me. Besides, I think Abigail probably would want it more…” 

“And so what is it that you want?” 

Achilles laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he wiped the remaining water from his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to answer that all year. To just be… satisfied? Content? I want to stop chasing. I just want to start a new life where I can be content with what I already have and who I already am instead of always focusing on what I should be.”  

Rasmodius nodded. There was still a sorrow in his eyes. A deep-set guilt and longing of years past that the day’s walk down memory lane must’ve brought back to the surface. Had he ever learned to make peace with his past? 

With a tip of his hat and wave of his arms, the spa’s steam began to turn lavender. It swirled around the Wizard’s feet as he began to transport himself no doubt back to his tower. 

“You will be content, Achilles. It won’t be today. It won’t be tomorrow. And it will hard. But remember that you have been before—on your own, before the Shadow King ever took refuge in your mind—and you can be so again.” 

*****

Achilles returned home at half past four, the sun already halfway to setting. He was in an odd mood, though could anyone blame him? 

Voltaire greeted him with a very dog-like wag of his fluffy tail before settling on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. 

“Do you ever get bored in here?” Achilles asked, absentmindedly patting the cat on the head. The living room, though still clean from yesterday’s thorough sweep, was now littered with a scattering of Voltaire’s toys. “I’m scared a hawk will eat you if you go outside.” 

“Meow!” 

“You never got a ceremony for yourself, after all you did down in the mines.” Achilles frowned, toying with the corner of one of the mismatched throw pillows. Perhaps he should hire an interior designer… though what was the point, if he was only going to move back…

“That’s my fault. I should have brought you to town. You can have my medal, though, if you’d like. I don’t particularly want it. Maybe we can turn the ribbon into a new collar, how does that sound? I’m afraid Lewis has touched it, though…” 

“Meow.” 

Achilles sighed. 

He put his feet up on the coffee table, hands behind his head as he stared without seeing at the black mirror of his television.

The clock above the fireplace chirped five times before he finally shook himself from his reverie. 

He shifted his feet, and the pages Alex had stacked just yesterday scattered to the floor once again. With another sigh, he bent down to retrieve them, this time opting to place them back on the table rather than hurling them into the fire. Except for one. 

One page he held onto as he curled up into the couch, a pen in hand. He flipped the paper over, now faced with the blank side. 

He had been getting better. Rasmodius was right. Before the pneumonia, before the Shadow King. He’d been feeling better all on his own. Or, perhaps, not exactly on his own… 

He dug a pen out from the coffee table and began to write. 

What Do You Want?

On second thought. 

Achilles crossed the question out.

What Makes You Feel Good?

That felt a little cringy… too cheesy, maybe too on the nose…

What Makes You Feel Good? Better?

#llnks #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfiction #stardew valley fanfiction #sdv fanfic #sdv fic

[magicmetalblog]

What’s inside my pencil case?

No sponsorships. No affiliate links. 

Some sustainable options, some really freaking not. Most of these have been legitimate game changers. 

From left to right:

Pentel pocket brush pen I've had this for years. It's practical but not water resistant unless you refill it with pigment-based fountain pen ink.

Sakura Gelly Roll Not my favourite pen but good in a pinch/on the run. If I'm home and need white ink, I would rather use a dip pen in Daler Rowney FW acrylic ink because it's MUCH more opaque and water resistant and not a single use plastic pen. I do not recommend this pen. 

Isograph .20 technical pen. Imagine microns but sans felt tip and infinitely refillable. A bit of an investment but worth it in the long run. mircon prices are out of this world and also single-use plastic.

Not Tuff Stuff?? Used to be called the Tuff Stuff eraser but then got discontinued. Now called the Factis BM2 Mechanical Eraser but I still call it Tuff Stuff because I can't seem to remember the new name until I'm staring at refills in the store. It's the best. It's so much thinner and stronger than a normal mechanical eraser. Changed my life.

Sailor Pro Gear Slim Shikiori 14K The galaxy pen. My daughter. Available in a bunch of colours. The Pro Gear Slim is an """entry level""" gold nib fountain pen. Got it for the price of two switch games and haven't needed to buy a pen since. Also, it always writes. You can fill it with any colour of fountain pen ink you can imagine (clean between colours). Sensory HEAVEN. Mine's inked with Sailor Manyo ink in Sumire.

MUJI wooden mechanical pencil 0.5mm I like this mechanical pencil that's not too long. I'm normally a 0.7 person because I press too hard but I dig it. The wood feels sooooo nice in my hand.

Staedtler 0.5mm pencil lead. 'nuff said.

Pentel Ain eraser.  Works a bit better than Staedtler Mars for me and is smaller so it runs out before it can get hard and crusty.

Whiper Mr correction tape. I like it because it doesn't take up as much space as other correction tape. I don't use it much but I like knowing that if I need to replace the correction tape, I can at least only buy a refill instead of replacing the whole thing. I wouldn't argue that it's sustainable since it still uses plastic tape but hey, it's the lesser of evils in a rare pinch.

I also have a beat up 15cm/ 5" plastic ruler I've had since getting it in my middle school geometry kit. not pictured because I forgot it at home: generic water brush pen.

Everything but the Gelly Roll can be refilled, which I prefer for both the planet and my wallet. I used to be averse to investing in supplies that cost a bit more upfront but very slowly saving up for a splurge has proven to be pretty economical in the long-run.

| my main art blog is @magicmetalbird​ |

#art supplies #art materials #stationary #fountain pen #traditional art #traditional media #pens #pencils #recommendations #notsponsored #recs #art #drawing #writing