#at least give me some incentive to complete that lesson

[punajuova]

Super old screenshot but duolingo changed up their streak animation?! Tbh I liked the old one more... They also removed the 50 gem reward after completing each skill level AND the random treasure chests after the first lesson of the day! Not that gems were ever good for much but MEH

[harrywritingsbyme]

Bored

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: He’s back bitchessss🤪…and he’s filthy as fuck! And I’m sorry this one is extra extra late with a crappy ending lol...Enjoy🙃

You were finally finally getting your weekend alone with Harry. After almost two weeks of him being away for business, you were finally getting to spend some quality time with him. And it was going to be without any interruption. Since your best friend was was spending a long weekend with her boyfriend, you were going to be able to spend a long weekend with yours. You were so excited to see Harry that you had everything planned out. For starters, you had your bag packed the night before he was due home. It had all of the essentials: a couple outfits for when you two weren’t in bed having sex, two of your skimpiest sets of lingerie that you weren’t going to miss given the fact that Harry had a habit of ripping your lingerie off of you, and some toys. He had few at his house but had the funner ones that you both could play with. Now along with getting your bag packed, you also made a visit to the waxing salon you went to from time to time. Even though Harry could literally care less about whether or not you had any hair down there, you still liked to give him a little treat from time to time. So as a little welcome home present, you endured thirty minuets of someone ripping those coarse hairs away so that you could be nice and smooth upon his arrival. And to make sure that you were ready to spread your legs for him as soon as he landed, you got this done a little over two days before so that you could let your pussy rest a bit because once you were with Harry, you were going to be begging for a break. You also made sure to be right at the airport to pick him up so that you two could get your weekend together started.

Now since his flight landed in the evening and you were positive that he’d be exhausted, you weren’t expecting to do much that night. Once you two arrived home, Harry wasted no time getting himself and his bag upstairs before ridding himself of his clothes and taking a nice hot shower. Again, you knew for a fact that he was exhausted from his flight and the trip itself so you decided to let him unwind and take his shower while you unpacked his bag and got everything nice and ready for him to have a good nights sleep. After spending a good half an hour in the steamy cabin, Harry finally exited the shower and came into the bedroom where you were waiting for him.

“I take it you had a good shower.” You point out, taking in his more relaxed disposition.

“It was so good.” He hums, striding over to where you were sitting on the bed. Once in front of you, his hands go straight to your shoulders and up your neck to the sides of your face where he tilts your head back a bit so that you’re looking up at him. He then lowers his head before bringing his lips to yours. Besides the pecks you gave him in the car when you picked him up from the airport, this was the first real kiss the two of you shared in almost two weeks. You missed the feeling of his warm pillow soft lips moving against yours. Even though you missed the sex, you missed being close to Harry. You knew that you could call him whenever you needed him and he’d always answer, but you weren’t close to him the way you were in this moment.

“I love you baby.” He mumbles lowly against your lips after slightly pulling away from you.

“I love you too.” You mumble back to him before lifting your head up a bit to reconnect your lips with his for one final kiss. “Now get in bed with me!” You whine, pulling him down towards the bed. 

“Have t’get dressed.” He laughs at your eagerness. 

“Who said you needed to wear clothes to bed?” You quickly reply, leaving him no other choice but to dry himself off and hop into bed with you. “Now it’s time for your goodnight kiss.” And with that, you moved your body so that you were between his legs and you used your mouth in the best way possible to send him right to sleep. Just because you weren’t expecting to do much didn’t mean you were expecting to do nothing at all. How could you not take up the opportunity to not only pleasure him but to also help him unwind?! Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t touched him in almost two weeks.

Now even though this was supposed to be a relaxing weekend for you and Harry to spend some quality time together, Harry still managed to get holed up in his office. And even though you were fully aware and understanding of the fact that his job could be demanding at times, you still couldn’t understand why they couldn’t let him have a little bit of an extended weekend since they did have him for a straight week and a half. The one thing you did know in this entire situation is that you had to get him away from the work and into you instead. And you knew just how to do it. You checked in on him the first time right after you woke up and realized that he wasn’t in bed with you. When you did, you gave him a ton of kisses and an incentives for stepping away from the desk but he wouldn’t budge. All you got out of that was a kiss to your lips, a promise to give it to you real good later on, and the task of getting him another cup of coffee. At this point, you realized that you were going to have to make him step away from the work.

 So after you deliver his cup of coffee, you make your way upstairs to put yourself together. After you get out of the shower, you throw on the perfect outfit (or lack there of to be completely honest) to get Harry to focus on you. Pulling from the bag you packed, you went for a cute little pastel thong that barely covered anything and was just there for the appeal, along with a tight fitting crop top that had “Daddy’s Girl” written across the chest. It was prefect. If this didn’t get Harry’s attention, you don’t know what what could. After doing a little once over and twirl in the mirror, you head back downstairs to try your hand once more at getting Harry to put the work to the side. Hopefully he got something done in the hour and a half you spent upstairs because you weren’t going anywhere without getting something from him. When you walk down the hallway leading to his office, you could hear him talking to someone on the phone but that doesn’t stop you from walking right into the doorway of his office. When you first walked in he could see you out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned around to fully face you, Harry was completely dumbfounded at your appearance. There was so much to take in! 

“Daddy I’m bored.” You huff loudly, causing Harry to scramble around behind his desk, hoping that his colleague didn’t hear you through the phone. 

“M‘ gonna have to call you back.” He says abruptly before hanging up the phone, keeping his eyes right on you the entire time. He then slides his phone onto the desk and pushes his chair out a little from the desk before wagging his finger in your direction, beckoning you to come over to him. 

In an instant, you’re following his nonverbal instruction and your making your way over to him. As you’re walking over, Harry takes you in. Aside from the lack of clothing, Harry couldn’t get enough of your body. He couldn’t get enough of your figure. Your hips were perfectly rounded and full and your chest was absolutely abundant with your breasts.  When you round the desk and step in front of him, you don’t even bother to stop and wait for a direction. You just go right in and you straddle Harry before sitting yourself right in his lap. Instead of saying anything right away, you decide to wait until you’re spoken to. That’s the least you could do since you already broke two of his rules. 

“You’re so lucky I could use a good fuck right now.” He sighs, finally breaking the silence while  continuing to look your body over your body. Now that you were sitting down, he could see the string like waistband of your panties digging into you fleshy hips, and he could see your pert nipples pushing right up against the thin material of your t-shirt. 

“What would happen if you weren’t daddy?” You “innocently” inquire, lifting yourself up a bit just to move yourself but higher up on his lap before plopping yourself back down onto him. 

“Well luckily for you, I’m always in need of a good fuck from this beautiful body of yours.” He begins, removing one of his hands from your fleshy hips up to your chest to latch onto one of your ample breast’s through the thin shirt you had on. “But when I do punish you, because all brats deserve punishments, I’m gonna make sure you learn your lesson.” He says simply, continuing to fondle your breast.

“What are you gonna do to me daddy?” You press on, beginning to move yourself back and forth right against his cock. 

“Now what’s the fun in me telling you my plans? All I’m gonna say is that unless our safe word falls from that pretty mouth of yours, m’gonna use you any way I want, and m’gonna do anything I want to you.” He explains. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds amazing.” You moan, continuing to push yourself back and forth against his now completely hard cock.

“I figured you’d like the idea of being my personal fuck toy.” He chuckles smartly as you bring your face down to kiss at his neck. “But I do have to say, even though you’re such a little brat, you definitely make up for it in being the perfect little slut f’me.” 

“Mhm, just for daddy.” You hum, keeping your mouth against his skin. As you continue kissing at his neck, you continue moving your hips against him as well. You also pull his hand that was squeezing at your hip down between your legs. 

“Does my little girl want daddy’s cock?” He asks “surprisedly” when he feels you pull his hand down to touch the puffy mound between your legs.

“Yes daddy.” You moan against him when you feel his fingers poking at you through your panties. 

“I guess I can let you have your way since I’ll be spending the better part of the day teaching you a lesson.” He rations, removing his hand from your breast and using it to grip onto your throat and pull your face from his neck before lifting you up and onto the desk in front of him. He then pushes his seat back some more so that he can stand up and tower above you. He quickly clears the space on the desk behind you before swiftly removing the tight shirt from your body and returning his hand to your throat, pushing you to lay back. Instead of wasting anymore time, Harry brings a hand down to your panties that were extremely close to just snapping and just rips them off your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him. His eyes travel all the way down, from your breasts to the area between your legs, each time taking a moment to touch and feel your soft body in his hands. When he makes it to the area between your legs though, Harry immediately crouches down to be at eye level with your cunt. “Oh sweetheart” He begins, taking in your bare cunt. “Look at you.” He admires, bringing his hand back there to feel how smooth and bare you were. The area was a sticky mess since there were not curly hairs for your arousal to cling onto. Even though he loved when you had your hair down there, he couldn’t get enough of how messy it got and how good it was to really feel the plump lips of your pussy in his mouth. He also liked to lick your arousal from your thighs. After staring and petting the smooth area, Harry finally brings his mouth to your cunt and goes straight into licking up and down your folds.

“Daddy! Feels so good!” You moan incoherently, feeling him eat into you like his life depended on it. Not only would he lick into you, he’d also suck on your swollen and oh so sensitive bud, and slightly sink his teeth into your thick pussy lips.

“Oh my- you are so delicious.” Harry moans from between your legs, savoring how amazing you taste. No matter how many times he licked into you, Harry would never get over how good you tasted on his tongue. “I could eat this pussy of yours for the rest of my life!” He exclaims, continuing to eat and marvel at your cunt. “You even look perfect too.” He says, pulling his head back to stare at your mound. “It just swallows up everything it touches. Your panties, my fingers, my tongue, my cock…” He continues on, taking in how pretty and puffy your pussy was for him. He always knew how meaty and utterly delicious your cunt was, but seeing it bare and as a result being able to get a better view of you made it even better. 

After a bit more oogling at your mound a bit longer, Harry finally goes back to eating you out. He uses his fingers and mouth to drive you wild, fucking you with two fingers while he either bites into your fleshy lips, sucks on your swollen little button, or licks into you. As he continues, you are gripping onto your supple breasts and letting out the biggest moans as Harry pushes you to a release. The way he was raving about your pussy and ravenously eating you was absolutely insane and it pushed you right into your release. Your moans echoed through the room as you let go all over Harry’s tongue to which he made sure to lick up every last drop before standing back up.

“Oh my goodness doll!” He coos, looking down at your now limp body below him. “You look like you’re even more of proper little slut for daddy now.” He admires, properly taking in how loopy you were now and your heaving naked body that was spread across his desk. “Wish there was a dildo in here for you to choke on but your panties will do I guess. I’ll just fuck your mouth myself later on.” He sighs, reaching  for the ripped panties he sat on the desk moments prior before pushing them past your parted lips and stuffing them into your mouth. He then pushes his pants down his legs to reveal his rock hard cock. Without wasting anymore time simply staring at you, Harry gives his shaft a couple tugs before guiding himself into you. “Fuck princess!” He loudly groans, finally feeling your walls engulfing his cock again. “Y’cunt always swallows m’cock perfectly.” He grunts as he watches himself disappear into you. 

While Harry was losing his mind from how good your cunt was, you were a whimpering and quivering mess. He’d made you cum less than five minuets ago and he was already pushing his cock inside to fuck you. Even though you loved feeling his big cock stretch your tight walls to fit, your pussy was incredibly sensitive from his mouth. So you could already knew that you’d not only be sensitive, you’d also be sore. Which was exactly what Harry wanted. Once he was balls deep inside of you, Harry immediately began pounding into you. His eyes were trained on your breasts that were bouncing freely on your chest with every thrust of his cock down into your quivering cunt. He could feel your walls squeezing him with every thrust and he could feel himself hitting the deepest part of you over and over again, slamming himself into the pit of your stomach with every thrust.

“That’s it babydoll.” He growls, releasing one of your hips from his hand to wrap it around your throat. “Take daddy’s cock all the way up into that little tummy of yours.” He continues, keeping his eyes locked on your glassy ones. “M’gonna cum in there too. Want you t’be completely filled up by daddy.” He pants, feeling his already bubbling release begin to intensify. “Feel you squeezin’ m’cock, wanna cum again for daddy?” He questions through a pant. Since he was practically pinning your head to the desk by means of his grip on your throat, you could only give him a faint nod yes and a whimper. “C’mon then baby, cum with daddy.” He grunts, continuing to send more sharp yet staggered thrusts into you as he starts to feel wave of his release begging to overtake him. From the way he was gripping onto your body and shoving his cock deep inside of you, you weren’t able to stop yourself from squirting all over his cock and going numb from the waist down. Your seismic release from earlier doubled in size and just crashed down onto you. The same with Harry, his release crashed down onto him, resulting in rope after rope of his cum pouring into you just like he promised. 

Even though it took a little while for you guys’ weekend to get started, neither of you would have it any other way. Just based off of this round alone, you and Harry immediately knew it was going to be a very long and pleasure filled weekend.

Masterlist

[rexeipts]

Monday morning rewatch thoughts:

I am in my feels, very angry at this episode.

Annie had little to no story so skipping her this time around.

Ruby & Stan:

- Stanimal trying to get the girls to strike was great, and I want to see him (not Beth) run the strip club so bad. I hope that is the storyline they take us down.

- Ruby and Stan once again are king and queen of communication. These two are such an excellent example of healthy and happy marriage.

- Ruby biting a lime at Stan’s replacement gave me life in the montage

Beth & Dean:

That’s who Beth gets paired with this week. Dean. Not Rio. Because that’s how mad I am at her.

- Dean on the bike ride scene was once again far too long and wasted precious screen time. I forced myself not to fast forward through that scene. And you know what I noticed? Dean literally compares being sexually assaulted in prison to being someone’s wife on a honeymoon and being forced to have a baby put inside you. Because that is how Dean sees his fucking wife and marriage. Literal other convicts sexually assaulting someone in prison is like them thinking you’re their wife on a honey moon. Let that fucking sink in. And no, I don’t think that was intentional characterization by the writers. That is just existing as a metaphor these writers chose to use while trying to continue a Dean redemption arc.

- Dean leaving the hot tub when the other guys were shitting on Beth for being a buzz kill was an attempt at showing “growth”. But it’s not. It’s fucking table stakes. See above mention of non consensual sex being like a wife.

- How Beth does not realize this is another of dean’s idiotic schemes and poor money decisions is beyond me.

- I am relieved only in that Beth looked upset after getting Rio arrested this time. Good. Be upset. You had a choice. I’m so mad at Beth right now. I’m honestly starting to think she deserves Dean.

- Beth, honestly you think Rio would hurt your kids? Then why turn him in? You’re so scared of him then why risk it? Choosing him would have meant protecting your kids if you look at it factually, he threatened your family if you turned him in. Like she’s just dumb at this point? The writers have characterized her as dumb. Did she conveniently forget season 1 when he got out? I mean for real? Do these writers even watch previous seasons?

- Beth being with Dean literally undermines all feminism about the show. I have said that before and will say it again. Dean is a cancer on this show’s fun. Pun intended.

- Beth uses her sweet housewife voice on Nick. Literally everyone but Rio. And she literally flirts with Nick. You’re literally married Beth. Divorce Dean before you flirt with yet another person.

Rio & Nick:

- Baby Rio looked like Rio I thought. Him drawing a boxer was heart breaking. Because he literally wanted that his entire life. The last flashback scene made it seem like he wanted it for money. Nick tells him he doesn’t need boxing because they have a way to get money now, but Rio literally wanted boxing from childhood. And Nick ripped that away from him. Nick gave him no choice. Not because he wanted him to learn a lesson, because he wanted to use him. Rio is Nick’s designated fall guy.

- Rio = good egg, Nick bad, better be fucking FORESHADOWING FOR RIO GETTING SOMETHING NICE FINALLY THIS SEASON. At least the writers told us that pretty openly.

- The champ champ champ now all makes sense

- Who is Rio’s coach and can we please have a cheesy storyline where the coach is the only one to ever be on his side

- What is he having them print for? The girls point it out like why does he need all of that?

- Him telling Beth he does need her? No he doesn’t. That was actually a very sweet line. The way he looked at her, he’s in love with her guys. Like his face said yes I need you because I can’t seem to give you up. He doesn’t need her for money. It’s unfortunate they chose to dirty it up with him threatening her family.

- Rio grows from the ashes. He is the designated fall guy who rises from the ashes to be untouchable. Hence Phoenix I guess. Sure.

- I actually like Nick being in the show. First because I’m mad at Beth. But mostly because he is the only character introducing a new dynamic. He is the only thing that’s not repetitive. The only fresh storyline. And he’s already making her talk about Rio. But also, would it fucking kill either of them to say the man’s damn name? But also I like the actor and think he’s pleasant to look at on screen, sue me.

- Oh look, Nick, another man telling Beth Rio is too dangerous for her when she LITERALLY SHOT HIM. Do you all REALIZE SHE IS NOT A DELICATE FUCKING LAMB.

- I am no longer convinced that Rio had a plan all this time, not after rewatching the car scene. It seems like Rio was ready to kill her, mostly because he doesn’t know another choice, and Nick pointed out the obvious. Unless Rio is playing Nick. But truth be told, Rio threatening her family was ooc. And I’m holding on to the fact that he said family, aka Dean Annie Ruby who he has threatened before, and she took it to mean kids. I’m also holding on to the fact that Rio puts on masks. He puts on cold gang banger mask, he tries to manipulate and find new ways to incentivize beth. If you look at it that way, as him trying to get her to choose him rather than a plot of trying to get her to turn him in, it’s heartbreaking. He is so desperate to get her to pick him he literally pulled out his final option. His only remaining incentive that he hasn’t tried on her. EDIT: UNLESS Rio is playing Nick too. Because now? SS trusts Beth. And Nick trusts Rio. Nick thinks Rio and Beth aren’t on the same side. That Beth turned Rio in and Rio’s murderous over it. And Rio can use Beth to take Nick down without Nick seeing them coming. I hope they’re going for that. Because that would be genius. And would really be Rio 100 steps ahead, and would make the whole episode make sense in terms of his characterization.

- The arrest scene was heart breaking. The complete betrayal in his eyes was so sad. As others have stated, choosing to slam him on a table, while yes it is realistic to how he would likely be treated in the real world, was not necessary. He wasn’t resisting and was literally just standing there. Idk why the writers feel the need to be “realistic” in some moments and not in others. Poor choice. But what I did appreciate was him staring at Beth. Like she was forced to face him this time. With his face shoved against a table while she stands there being cuffed gently. She did that. She didn’t see him arrested on tv. She didn’t run away after shooting him. She had to stand there in his gaze looking at the betrayal on his face. Good. I’m sorry but she deserved it. She needs to face the damn consequences of her actions. Sorry I’m upset with her RN.

- At this point I believe Rio is in love with Beth. And it seems the writers are actually pushing metaphors and moments that make us sympathize with Rio and see Nick as the bad guy. I do think Beth will eventually get there/realize her feelings for Rio later this season but it might be too little too late. Time will tell.

Promo/Thoughts going forward:

- I like Phoebe and don’t mind her being around

- Rio and Beth on a bench again is good news to me. On the same bench.

- Idk if it’s a time jump but Rio comes in with a fresh hair cut, new wardrobe, and a tan looking like he just had a hot girl summer and is feeling great, over his ex, and is ready to fuck shit up.

- I want to see Rio remind Beth that she betrayed him personally. I want her to have to face that. It’s not just she betrayed him professionally. I want to see him reject her, I want to see her flirt or bat her lashes at him and him to be like nope sorry. Just for a minute though like just one episode lol. And only because I think it will make her realize her feelings for him.

- Beth and Rio v Nick please. Just give us something fucking new.

- These writers had an amazing path they could have gone down of the housewife partnering with a gang banger. It would have been fun, plenty of comedic gold available, and plenty of options for conflict between them and with external forces. And instead they chose this. I feel sometimes like this show would have been way better if it wasn’t on NBC. This story, this chemistry, belonged with writers who would realize its potential. That’s what I find disappointing.

[mxvladdy]

Mistletoe Prt.3

Here’s the last one! Hope you like!

Asmodeus

-Adorable. He loves it. Does it have to be a kiss on the lips though? How unimaginative. -But white and green go great on him soooo -Doesn’t even try to subtle -Can and will go in for more than once for smooches

Darling~ Come over~ I have a surprise ;*

Your D.D.D lights up. Flashing and buzzing as you are bombarded with texts. The other occupants of the school study hall all shooting you scathing looks. You smile back apologetically digging through your tote for the pinging nuisance. Wrapping your hand around the device to muffle it’s noise you hurry out into the hallway to see what the emergency was.

The sigh of relief you exhale was only slightly tinged with annoyance as you read the messages.

Asmo- I told you I’m in remedial lessons today! I can’t. Can it wait till after dinner?

You hide the screen as you hear the door open. “Sorry- house emergency.” You lie, smiling up sheepishly at your professor. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Your professor grunts in acknowledgement, knowing all too well the foolishness that happens in that house. They scuttle back into the classroom with a terse warning to hurry it up. You nod and peak back at your phone.

My sinfully good looks wait for no one Plus I knoooow you’ll love this one! Oh! No-Wait! On second thought- take all the time you need. The anticipation will just make it all the more rewarding ;)

Rolling your eyes you pocket the device with a smile. Whether he is teasing or not at least you’ll have something to gossip about with Solomon next weekend. The rest of the time goes at a snail's pace. Much to your annoyance, Asmodeus’s little plan working like a charm. You were beyond curious to see what he had. You had to admit he gave the best presents and fashion tips. Wasn’t Majolish having a winter sale? Idly you let your mind wander to what was in store for tonight till your remedial lesson was over. Not waiting for the dismissal bell you pack quickly and make your way back home.

The halls are quiet when you enter. Most of the brothers still out doing their after school activities or jobs. You head to Asmo’s room without interruption and knock.

No answer.

“Asmo.” You try again knocking louder. “You in there?” Still nothing. Pressing your ear to the door you strain your senses to hear if he was in. The door swings open and you lurch forward toppling over yourself.

“Falling for me already? You haven’t even seen what I have on!” Asmo giggles from his place beside the door. He makes no offer to help you up instead waits for reaction. Righting yourself on the floor you gaze up at him ready to chew him out. Your words die on your lips, a chuckle slipping out instead. “Hey!” Asmo’s tone dropped from teasing to hurt. “Don’t laugh! I look adorable.”  

“I’m not laughing at that. It’s- It’s just you do know you don’t get more kisses with the amount of mistletoe you have right?” You laugh harder as his face turns bright pink.

Collecting yourself, you look around the room. Bless, he put a lot of effort into this. His bedroom could have been a set for a home and living magazine. His fireplace was lit. Flames crackling merrily and throwing it’s toasty warmth around the room. On top of it the mantle is decorated with winter shrubbery and bowls of cinnamon scented pinecones, all tastefully topped with white little berries. A tray by his couch held a bottle of something red, no doubt a sweet dry wine and some snacks pilfered from the kitchens. He even had some blankets and pillows strewn about. Whether for use or decoration was anyone's guess. But, you had a nagging suspicion you would find out.

He looks down at his mistletoe themed ensemble then the room at large. “Guess I did go a little overboard.” He helps you up with a chuckle of his own. “But can you blame me?”

You hold him close snuggling into the soft sweater he wore (also knitted with little berries in the design). “Most definitely.” You agree. “Great attempt though. Earned you at least one kiss.”

“Oh?” He pouts. “Can’t break that silly ol’ human rule for me~” His brows waggle suggestively.

“Hmmm- promise not to tell anyone?” You link your fingers around his neck to pull him down for a gentle press of lips. He tasted like mint and sugar. “It’s quite unorthodox.”

“With enough incentive darling, anything for you.” He returns your chaste kiss with a heated one of his own.

Beelzebub

-Hmmm berries tasty -Honestly he doesn’t really care about it - He just never really gave it any mind. He wouldn’t force a kiss on you and this feels kinda like it -But if you're ok with this and free kisses? Well he can get behind that

How unusual. Well, it’s not unusual to see Beel in the kitchen. Not at all. What was odd was what he was doing. He was cooking, not just eating the ingredients. baking to be precise. You had come in for a midday cup of coffee and snack.  But now you were curious to see what he was up to. To find him so thoroughly preoccupied was rare.

“Beel?” You approach him peeking over his massive back to see what he was flouring on the butcher block. He acknowledges you with a low grunt. His eyes locked with the screen of his phone. Back hunched and elbow deep in flour and egg he was kneading his dough. He was so engrossed. “You wanna go get something to eat?” You eye the mess in front of him. You can hear his stomach groan and growl. Yet he didn’t touch anything in front of him.

Suddenly his head snaps to you, eyes wide as he realizes who is in the room with him. “Ah-you were supposed to be in your room.” He rises to his full height trying to hide the mess on the table. He was covered in powdered sugar and flour, a smudge of jelly smeared across the arch of his nose to his right blushing cheek.

“Sorry. Want me to pretend I didn’t?” You wipe the jelly off of his face and smile.

“No-the surprise is lost.” He shakes his head, but brightens immediately. “It’s ok though, would you like to help?”

You agree readily, completing glossing over his previous comment. You were too excited to just spend some time cooking with him to notice.  He was making shortbread cookies. Cut dough of all shapes and sizes were piled all over the counter. Some iced, some cooling, and some waiting to be shaped. You take up the mantle of the official cookie cutter picking through the multitude of different holiday cookie cutters he had bought to find the perfect one. “So what brought this on?” You ask from your perch a little while later. You were taking a break to watch him pull out a sheet from the oven with his bare hands.

He brings the tray over to the counter sliding the cookies off the sheet to the cooling rack. “I thought you would like it. Something to remind you of home.” Oh. He fiddles with his fingers picking at the nail beds before continuing. “And also I ah-” He turns to the fridge returning with a small plate with two iced cookies. “I made some with the mistletoe baked in, but then I read it was poisonous to humans. So I ate those.”

You looked down at the mistletoe shaped cookies. The white and green icing bleed a little at the edges but the lines were steady and done with care. You beam up at Beel taking the offered plate. He waits  watching you take a large bite. You let out a delighted moan. The buttery cookie melts down on your tongue. The mix of salty and sweet was perfect.

“Good?” He asks, holding his breath. Nodding vigorously you offer him the other one. “No- I made those for you.” He takes one of the none iced ones and plops down next to you watching you enjoy your treat.

“This was wonderful! Thank you Beel.” The Devildom was great but you did miss some of the smaller things the human world had to offer. “You know the old tradition with mistletoe?” He cocks his head and shrugs, mouth full of cookies. He knew it was something couples did but beyond that he couldn’t recall.

You wave him down to your level. He goes leaning down to meet your determined gaze. Quick as a wink you strike kissing him twice. Once on his lips then the second time to chase away the crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips. He leans back swallowing with an audible gulp. “The first one was for the mistletoe and the second was for the cookies.”

“Oh-” He croaks dumbly. “I have more shaped like that on the cooling rack.”

“I’ll help you ice them if you pay me in some kisses of my own.” You’ve never seen him move so fast.

Belphegor

-Meh. He use to love it when he would still visit the human realm as an angel

-Now though, the peasantry of it is dulled. Reminds him of sweeter yet more sour times with his sister

-But with you around now he might just give it another shot

The bed sheets shift uncharacteristically behind you. Belphie’s warm body disappearing from your back. Odd. You squint to the grandfather clock across his room. It was way too early for Belphie to be moving. You stay curled under the blankets listing him to tiptoe around the attic. He mutters something under his breath bumping into something large and heavy on the floor. He goes quiet and you feel his eyes lock onto your back. You let out a snore.

“You are a terrible actor.”

“And you are terrible at sneaking.” You flip over to shoot him a glare. “Why are you out of bed? ‘M cold.” You yawn throwing the blankets back and beckoning him back. He doesn’t budge. “Belphie~” You whine patting his cooling spot.

“No. Go back to sleep.” He leaves not sparring you a second glance. Hmph- rude. Bundling up with his abandoned pillows you do just that. Too sleepy to be miffed at his curt behavior.

Next time you wake it’s to someone gently stroking your cheek. Humming you nuzzle into it ready to drift off again. Only then to have the same soft fingers pinch your nose shut. You gasp toppling over the side of the bed. Belphegor laughter clearing the sleep from your mind. “You ass.” You squeak up at him from your prone position on the carpeted floor.

He shrugs sliding down to the floor. “You wouldn’t wake up so-”

Gee, you wonder why. It was still super early in the morning, the second moon of the Devildom still high in the sky. You glance at the clock again. He had only been gone for an hour. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” You rub the sleep from your eyes.

He shakes his head and helps you to your feet. “Better yet, I’ll show you. Bring a pillow and put your slippers on. It’s cold.” He leads you out into the hall, his presences calm and contemplative. Surprisingly alert too.  

Belphie takes you down to the house's planetarium unlocking the door with a flick of his hand. “Had to make sure the others didn’t ruin it.” He answers your confused look. “I would have to get violent if Mammon stole my stuff-again.” Pushing open the door he lets you in first. You gasp.

The room was a winter wonderland to put it mildly. Large ornaments dangled from the many wood beams of the ceiling. All for them giving off a soft glow of light like a lantern. Enchanted snow fell from the rafters. The flakes kissing your skin before melting on contact with your bed warmed skin. Snow and frost glistened around coating the plants and sitting area in a white blanket. Ice coats the window panes and clings to the arched ceiling. “Like it?” You nod wordlessly turning in slow circles to take it all in.

“Why aren’t I freezing?” You cup your hands, curious as to why the snow didn’t freeze your fingertips. He smiles softly at your wonder.

“It’s magic. Can’t have your weak human body freezing to death.”

“Hey!” He laughs at your feigned anger. Taking your hand again he helps you down to a nest of pillows and blankets all bundled around his stargazing machine. “What’s the occasion?” You ask, getting comfy down on the floor. He winks not answering you. Instead he goes to work on his machine. Once he is satisfied he comes to sit down next to you. Wordlessly you crawl into his lap, as you did every time he wished to stargaze with you.

He is quiet for sometime after that, only breaking it to point out an interesting constellation from time to time. You go into a peaceful daze, lulled by his warmth and his thumb stroking slow and soothing circle between your shoulder blades.

“I used to do this with Lilith. It was an old tradition of ours. During the winter months on earth we would sneak down to observe the stars. Sometimes even the northern lights depending on where we went.” He pauses for a moment lost in the past. You wait resting a hand on his knee. “We saw a lot of weird traditions down there. Some I loved. After-after the fall I lost a lot of those feelings. But then you had to show up…” He glances down at you with a wiry smirk. You return it followed by a middle finger. He flashes you a fang, pulling you closer to his chest. “There was one tradition I found the oddest, but I always enjoyed it. Would you like to try it with me?”

You nod intrigued to what human custom such an ancient being like him enjoyed. He jerks his chin to one of the lower beams of the ceiling. Tied to it was a mass of white and green berries. “Wow.” It was all you were able to muster, your throat feeling tight from the sentiment and implications.

“Tch-Do you not like it?” His voice turns terse unsure if he should be insulted or saddened.

“No, never. Just wasn’t expecting you to be so smooth.” You chuckle leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Hey!” He snaps pulling your head away. “That didn’t count.”

“No?.” You huff. “Perhaps you should show me how it’s done then.”

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (1/17)

Summary:  "Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice." At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Note: This has been sitting on my computer untouched for a while, along with the timeline I prepared for a multichapter fic. Will probs go back to it soon. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

In dreams people only see faces they already know.

It was an interesting fact Levi had probably come across, lazily scrolling through his social media timelines or opening countless tabs after getting into some Wikipedia blackhole in between the long days of schools and the short nights asleep.

He spent a fair amount of time on the internet, reading up about whatever bullshit politics came up with, controversies and bathroom reader fun facts. During his first year of college, it had stuck to him for a time. Maybe because it just seemed too unrealistic, too unbelievable.

After all, ever since he had started college, he felt like he had been dreaming of more and more unfamiliar faces. It could have been attributed at least to the fact that he was exposed to more people in a crowded city than he had been in the small town he grew up in. As time went by, these faces he barely recognized though, had become the main actors in his dream.

The long haired boy with the elvish features. The man with the clean cut appearance and a glint of mischief in his eyes. The oriental girl with subtle European features. The cheeky girl with a beat up pair of glasses and unkempt hair.

They and many others had been regulars in his dreams and Levi had come up with names for them already, names he remembered muttering, names he screamed multiple times in his head. By the time he woke up to the four walls of his bedroom a few hours before his first class, they were vague memories, only as intelligible as his view of the world right after waking up.

Some mornings, he had found himself more exhausted than when he had slept. Some mornings, he found his throat sore from screaming. Some days, his eyes were swollen from crying.

He lived alone in a dormitory and he had wanted to infer that it had been homesickness that had made those nightmares possible. He had never really abhorred being alone though, in fact he liked the privacy that came with having his own room.

He quickly shot down that theory and did not think too much about it soon after. His daily life did not give him too much time to ponder such fleeting and abstract of a concept as dreams in between lessons and training.  

The dreams never left him, some days they were more vivid than others. After a few years of navigating academics, trainings, and obligations, Levi had gotten used to brushing off that one tear he’d get as he woke up, taking a lozenge to soothe the sore throat or just leaving the lights off in his room to alleviate the pounding headache he would get some mornings.

Daily life and obligations never did allow him the time and space to ponder too much on those dreams. Levi chalked it up to stress and unexplained trauma, easily soothed by ten minutes scrolling through social media or hours reorganizing his room for the third time that week.

Financial and time constraints made it impossible as well to even consider consulting about it and Levi found himself compartmentalizing those dreams into those few hours of sleep he got at night and the one hour he allowed himself each day to adjust to the waking world.

The line blurred one night though when one of those names was nonchalantly mentioned among others.

"Hange Zoe..."

It was just one name in a list recited by their coach before they were all dismissed for the evening. Sandwiched between a few other names before and after it, it wasn't supposed to stand out like that. Oddly, it did.

As Levi rode his bike to his dormitory room after a tiring day of training, he found himself repeating that name again and again. He tried to make sense of the odd familiarity which came with a name he could have sworn he had never heard before.

A family friend? A childhood friend?

Levi entertained those possibilities. Having grown up in a small town, his family friends and childhood friends consisted of everyone in that tight knit community and he could have listed out all their names then and there. She wasn’t part of it.

To at least, satisfy his own curiosity, Levi had sent a message to his parents before going to sleep. Just in case he had met her before.

Levi woke up the next morning, his throat a little scratchier, his body a little more tired. The first thing he did was check his phone.

Hange Zoe wasn’t a family friend.

Levi put the covers over himself and closed his eyes. His head was pounding and his chest was heavy. He had only noticed a moment later that his eyes were wet, his breaths were coming out in heaves.

What did I dream about this time?

Levi needed the whole morning to recover.

                                  A Tale of Two Slaves

Levi managed at least to drag himself out of bed for afternoon training. By then, others have already started warming up. Levi wondered if he would be able to carry his body through a warm up jog, given his state only a few hours ago.

In the end, getting the jog done became a matter of discipline more than anything else and he had finished well above everyone else.

He had always been faster, given his smaller build and he had the natural muscle and athletic skill to be versatile as well. That was what made him stand out as the best athlete in the track and field team. He never cared too much either way about the admiration many of his teammates held towards him.

The recurring nightmares and the aftermaths of these though had left Levi averse to human interaction. Ironically, as he moved away from his small town and into the bigger city, his world had gotten smaller. Levi found himself keeping his world only wide enough to win track and field events and pass classes.

No man could really ever be an island though, no matter how much they try. Levi soon found that out when he saw that aforementioned Hange Zoe on the side of the track, talking to one of their coaches.

“This is Hange Zoe.”

“You can call me Hange.”

Levi did not need that quick introduction his coach had just given him. Somehow, the name and the face just clicked inside him. He looked expectantly at his coach and back at Hange.

Hange held out her hand to him and smiled. “I heard you’re the best one in the team. Coach Greg spoke highly of you.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at her. “What's she doing here?”

“Didn’t I tell you last time? Some of the premed students wanted to do case studies on athletes here for their final thesis. If you could help them out?” The coach turned to Hange. “Levi here is one of our best jumpers. He holds a pretty good record for sprinting, hurdles and throwing events as well.”

“Your jogging form looks amazing! I’d love to see you in action.”

Levi was not prepared for the invasion of privacy that came a second after. Hange held both of his hands towards her and leaned closer towards him. Before Levi could even stop himself, he had pushed her away and ran, the screaming of his coach to come back had become mere muffled screams in the background.

The only reason Levi did drag himself to training was for the fact that it was still one of the few hobbies he found complete calm yet complete liberation in. Those few moments after launching himself up in the air, those magical few moments high up in the air with only the empty sky above him, Levi felt free.

As Levi powered through, he found within him a burst of energy, built up from an idle morning cooped up in his room.

He had done those same drills so many times before. The excitement he got from flying through the air and running easily took over whatever exhaustion and rattledness plagued him only a second ago. He let his body memory guide him through each drill, concentrating his consciousness on other things like the cool wind on his skin as he shot through the track and the purple sky that stretched above as he performed horizontal jumps.

If Levi had been any more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed his teammates leaving the track one by one. Maybe, he would have noticed as he started moving to the hurdles that the purple sky was slowly turning into a dark blue and the scenery around him was becoming just a little more than shadows.

It was nothing new. Levi had stayed behind to work on other skills multiple times and his coach and teammates had just learned to leave the club room open. Levi would leave an extra thirty minutes to an hour later than his companions,

At that training though, with little incentive to break away from that small bubble he had built for himself, not  a lot of things could have broken his concentration. Fifteen minutes into his hurdles exercises, the distraction came. Levi was raising one leg, positioning himself to jump a hurdle when he caught a shadow from his peripherals.

Someone had been watching him in the dark.

He was alone. Or he was supposed to be alone at least.

The combination of those realizations and the exhaustion that threatened to take over Levi only caused Levi to stumble on the hurdle in front of him and fall forward onto cold ground.

“Hey! You okay?”

It was that same voice from that same conversation Levi had walked away from just an hour ago. The voice was as loud and as annoying as it was an hour ago that even when his shadow was still a good few meters away, Levi remembered how it felt with her forehead once again pressed on his and her grip on his two hands.

Levi was frozen on the ground, his body still in shock at the sudden loss of control and the whiplash of what he had just imagined.  

“That looked painful.” Her voice was softer than it was a second ago. Hange put her hand on his.

Levi pulled away instinctively, and winced as his palms protested the quick action. Levi looked at his palms. In the dim light, he could see three long gashes lined up in the middle. Blood was starting to come out as well.

Levi was exhausted. The impact and the aftermath of falling on the ground, front first and the friction burns that followed, only further drained what was left of his energy.

By the time Hange helped him up by the shoulders  Levi was almost motionless, the small movements he made were carefully calculated for fear of aggravating the dull pain.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

                              A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry about a while ago… People say I’m just a little too intimidating  but I just get really excited about these types of things. You had such a good running form. You jump so high. You get a really good height above the hurdles… “ Hange gave him a consoling look. “Except that last one.”

Hange was closer to him than what Levi would have preferred at first. Oddly, he had gotten used to it quickly enough, particularly because he had no other choice.

The gashes on his palms were bloody and painful. With little to no means to bandage them himself, he was left to rely on the only person there and as Levi soon found out, she had problems with maintaining a comfortable social distance from people.

And she never stopped talking.

“Are the bandages too tight?” Hange asked, in between other ramblings Levi had tuned out.

“‘No.” The only words Levi had said since they had arrived in the club room fifteen minutes ago.

“Okay, let’s move on to your knees.”

Levi had not surveyed the damage himself but he guessed it was probably worse than his palms from Hange’s concerned frown.

“You’re gonna need stitches for this. The clinic probably isn’t open so you might have to go to the hospital… We could call a taxi and---”

“You’re a pre-med student, can’t you do it yourself?”

Hange blushed. “You trust me to do it?”

"A trip to the hospital will just be a waste of time." Levi admitted.

Hange rummaged deeper into the first aid kit. "This is gonna be painful though."

Better than taking a trip to the hospital now. Levi braced himself for it and decided to distract himself from the discomfort of the whole ordeal.  

“How does it feel? Flying in the sky like that?” Hange asked. At that point, Hange had started to talk more purposefully, as if she wanted to get a point across to him.

Levi guessed that it was all an attempt to distract him from the mini operation she was giving him. From his angle, Levi could not see the extent of the injuries, nor did he want to. The pain was bearable, although it was still much worse than what he would have considered a discomfort.

“I’ve always wanted to take a sport like that, maybe gymnastics, maybe figure skating or track and field? That’s the closest people can get to flying right?” Hange was asking too many questions but it was obvious she was not expecting answers.

Her words flowed as smoothly as the movement of the needle and thread he could see from his angle.

Something about the way she talked to him was comforting and eventually Levi had almost completely relaxed, the pain of needle to torn skin a distant memory. He lay back on the bench and closed his eyes, focusing not on her words but instead on the familiar warm tone as she spoke.

The sensation of needle to skin, the burning pain, the dizziness that followed. They were all too familiar. All accompanied by that familiar warm voice.

Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us.

Hange's voice tore into his daydream. “What do you mean? Are you running from something?"

[juliandev0rak]

what a night, what a crowd!

The night of the masquerade has arrived, and in the midst of its dazzling finery feelings come to light.

characters: Amaryllis Leroux (of @nvvermore), Beatrice Viano / Beamie

words: ~2100

Beatrice doesn’t care much for balls. 

She doesn’t like crowds, she doesn’t like dancing, and she most certainly does not like being looked at. But she does like Amaryllis, so she’ll deal with the discomfort. There’s another L word that might be better suited for her feelings at this point, but she’ll stick with ‘like’ for now, thank you very much.

If the fact that a certain red haired court musician will be performing is an incentive to her ball attendance, nobody else needs to know.

And besides, this is no ordinary ball- it’s the masquerade, and it wasn’t as if she could refuse an invitation from the Countess herself. At least Beatrice can hide behind the relative anonymity of her rabbit masquerade mask and the fact that nearly every guest in attendance is already some degree of distracted or inebriated.

As she makes her way through the crush of people she finds herself looking for someone in particular, someone who she’s quite certain will be dressed in red. The golden dress Beatrice wears is a gift from Nadia, It’s something she might not have picked herself, but she has to admit it suits her. As she’d swished around in the full skirt in front of her mirror she’d admired the way the embroidered leaves on the dress seem to move as if by magic. 

Beatrice weaves her way through the busy palace halls, her head whipping around whenever she sees a flash of red. The palace is completely decked out in lights and banners and all manner of decoration, she can scarcely take it all in as she wanders from room to room. There are so many things to explore, so many wonderful foods to try and forms of entertainment to watch, but all Beatrice wants is to see Amaryllis.

It’s been a few days since she last saw Amaryllis and she misses them, more than she probably should. At this point she won’t deny the depth of her feelings for them, and the hope she has that they might feel the same. It’s exhilarating to think that Amaryllis might be interested in her, but it’s equally terrifying. She doesn’t think she could take it if they turned her down, but she has to do something. She has to know, and curiosity has always driven Beatrice to boldness.

Distracted by her thoughts and the dazzling display of masquerade extravagance, Beatrice almost runs right into someone.

“Oh, my apologies!” Beatrice’s gaze flicks up to meet familiar amethyst eyes. “Asra! I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” “Hello to you too!” Asra smiles. He holds a very full glass of champagne and she’s glad she didn't knock it out of his hands. “You look a little distracted. Are you looking for someone?”

“Oh, nobody in particular.” She waves her hand in the air flippantly, her tone of voice gone just the slightest bit squeaky as it does when she’s being untruthful. 

He raises an eyebrow in question, “Beatrice, you’re a terrible liar.” 

“Alright fine, I’m looking for Amaryllis. Have you seen them anywhere?” Beatrice sighs and smooths down the skirt of her dress.

“They’re about to perform actually, in the ballroom.” Asra gives her another smirk and if she wasn't in such a hurry to find Amaryllis she might be annoyed.

“I’m glad I ran into you then! I’d better go, I’d hate to miss anything.” 

“I’ll come with you, I want to see what they’ve got planned.” Asra weaves through the crowds with ease and Beatrice trails behind, glad she’d worn her own comfortable shoes for all of this walking rather than the tall death traps Nadia had sent for her. 

They make their way into the ballroom where most of the guests seem to be congregating. The dance floor is packed full and countless more converse on the sides of the room. There’s a raised stage in the corner but there are far too many people for them to be able to make it through to stand any closer. Beatrice and Asra settle in an alcove on the side of the ballroom, a bubble of space away from the crowds that Beatrice is very grateful for.

“Here, you look like you could use this.” Asra hands her the glass of champagne he’d been holding, and she thanks him and takes a large sip. 

Beatrice worries briefly that her lipstick will be smeared and before she can help it her mind wanders to the other ways her lipstick could be messed up this evening if she has her way. She snaps out of her fantasy as the band that had been playing abruptly stops and the ballroom is left with only the chatter of guests. The anticipation bubbles in her like the glass of champagne she’s holding. 

Amaryllis is announced and then they’re on stage and Beatrice can’t look away.

She’s seen them perform many times but now that she’s been close to them, heard how sweet their voice sounds when it's next to her ear, felt their hands on her, it’s a different experience. Though the music is simply accompaniment for the dancing to most of the guests, Beatrice is a captive audience of one. The building could be on fire around her and she probably wouldn’t notice. All she can see and hear is Amaryllis, and though they’re across the room all she can smell is roses. 

Beatrice hardly knows what they’re singing, and she takes a drink of cold champagne to clear her mind a little. When she tunes back in to her surroundings she realizes that Amaryllis is singing a love song, the one she’d heard them composing all those weeks ago when she’d been eavesdropping. Their eyes seem to search the crowd a bit more than usual, and she hopes they’re looking for her. Beatrice isn't in her usual cloak and she’s wearing a mask, so there's no way Amaryllis will see her, but the thought that they could be searching for her is nice.

She wonders briefly if she should wave to get their attention, but she would feel silly if they didn’t notice her. And besides, she shouldn't distract them while they're performing. Focus is very important, as she’d learned from Amaryllis’ lessons and the distinct lack of focus she has when they’re around. 

She doesn’t know what she’d do if Amaryllis met her eyes looking like that. Their dress is red and gold and altogether perfect for them. Their mask only half covers their face and Beatrice sees a flash of their red lips pulled up into a smirk as they walk across the stage. Amaryllis commands attention, and Beatrice is happy to give it to them. 

When the performance ends Asra turns to face Beatrice but she doesn’t notice, too busy tracking Amaryllis through the crowd. They disappear into the mass of people and she frowns, wondering if she’d be foolish to chase after them through the crowd of thousands. When Asra speaks she nearly jumps, she’d half forgotten he was there. 

“You really like them, don’t you.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” Beatrice sighs, “I do.” 

Asra smiles as he watches her reach for the clasp of her cloak, only to realize she’s not wearing it. Her hands move to fiddle with the ties on her mask instead. “Amaryllis likes you too, you know.” 

Beatrice does know, or at least she thinks she does. There’s no other way to interpret their lingering glances, their appearance at the school, their eagerness to see her. But still, Beatrice worries. “I think they do, but how can you be sure?” 

“Amaryllis doesn’t teach just anyone Beatrice, and they showed up to your school which is honestly a big favor considering how kids can act,” Asra laughs. “Hey! My students are very well behaved,”  Beatrice huffs, frowning at him.

Asra puts a hand up in defense, smile still in place. He’d come to visit her once on a lunch break and had seen first hand how rowdy kids on a playground can be, but he chooses not to antagonize her further. “It’s still a pretty big favor to ask, considering how busy Amaryllis is, and they did it for you.” 

He’s right of course. Beatrice thinks back to the lesson, the last time she’d seen Amaryllis. They’d worn a green dress, but the addition of a new color in their wardrobe wasn’t the most uncharacteristic thing about that day. Amaryllis had opened up to her, just a little, and the knowledge that they trust her enough to do so makes her feel warm inside. It makes her feel brave enough to talk to them honestly, like they’d done with her. 

Beatrice’s hands move from her mask to her skirt, fingers picking at one of the applique leaves. “I just don’t know what to do Asra. We haven’t talked about how we feel, they haven’t expressed any interest.” 

“Beatrice, they absolutely have. We’ve all noticed how Amaryllis acts around you, they’re always looking for you specifically, even in a crowd. And were you even listening to their performance just now? All of the songs were love songs and I’d be willing to bet Amaryllis was thinking of you when they wrote them.” 

Beatrice stares down at her shoes, trying to hide the blush that just peaks out from beneath her mask. If other people have noticed their interest as well, she must not be imagining things. Her reticence to act is not because she doubts that Amaryllis could want her, it’s more that she's afraid to assume that they want her. If Amaryllis asked, she’d be theirs in a heartbeat, probably less than a heartbeat. 

“What should I do then? I can’t just walk up to Amie and kiss them.” Beatrice’s blush returns as she imagines doing just that. She’s spent so long wanting to kiss them that she’s pretty sure the shock of actually doing so would short circuit her brain.

Asra snorts and Beatrice looks up to see his amused expression. “Well you could, but considering this is you we’re talking about, I think you should just talk to them.”

“I know I should, but what do I even say? What if they don’t actually like me and this is all some big misunderstanding?” Her tone must betray her worry and Asra reaches out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Beatrice, Amaryllis likes you.” 

“Really?” Her lips pull into the hint of a smile, her brow unfurrowing. 

“Yes really! Now stop arguing with me about it and go find them!” Asra gestures to the ballroom with a flourish and Beatrice laughs.

“Thank you, Asra.” Beatrice smiles at her friend and drains the last of her champagne.

“Good luck Beatrice, and don’t come back until you’ve kissed them!” 

Beatrice rolls her eyes at Asra, “With all of the jokes you’re making you’d think you were the court fool.” 

“I’m being serious, go kiss Amaryllis,” Asra laughs, giving her a gentle shove out of the corner they’re standing in.

“Perhaps I will!” Her tone is defiant and though she’s mostly joking, she wonders again what would happen if she did. Would their lipstick stain her lips red? She’d like to find out. 

“Good!” Asra says.

“Fine!”  Beatrice stifles a nervous laugh and turns to face the crowd.

She walks the perimeter of the room, eyes once again looking for any flash of red or any familiar face to point her in the right direction. It feels a bit like when she goes to the library searching for one particular book but with no idea how to find it. The library really needs a more organized system, she thinks, perhaps she should ask Nadia about it? It isn’t like she has enough free time to do the task herself, but would anyone else be able to organize it in a way that makes practical sense? 

A flash of red in the corner of her eye brings her attention back to the task at hand- Amaryllis. Right, she’s looking for Amaryllis. 

She turns back towards the dance floor and suddenly Amaryllis is right there, only a few feet away with their ruby eyes stuck on hers. Beneath their mask Beatrice watches their lips, the ones she’s been thinking so much about this evening, pull into a smile. She can’t help but beam at them in return. Amaryllis says something to the man they’d been dancing with and then they’re on the way to her, the crowd seeming to part around them. 

All she can see is Amaryllis, red and gold and beautiful.

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

[gildedmuse]

Law is still Shichibukai (for some reason) and meets with the others including Mihawk for government business or something. He learns he had a relationship with Zoro during the 2 years. Even though Law is in a relationship with him now Mihawk & Zoro never really ended theirs officially so Law gets jealous and competative

Right, I have to pass out. But here is part one of three of this magical tale.

Oh thank God someone else has thought of this because I think about this SO MUCH. Like, "what are you even doing with your life?" / "Oh, you know, mostly trying to set up a Mihawk/Zoro/Law love triangle." / "..... Just WHY?"

Because it'd be super hot that's why.

One dude whose super possessive, one who hates losing and one who's totally obvious to all that shit. are you kidding me? That was made for fanfic glory.

I don't know if I can do such a delicious thing justice in a "let's see if I remember how words work" post, but damn right I'll try it.

It's 2020. The world needs this you guys. And hopefully it inspires others to look deep within themselves and realize the Mihawk/Zoro/Law triangle was inside them all along.

To War Over You

"Why do I have to be here again? No offense, Torao, this whole thing sounds boring as hell."

Law closes his eyes and draws a deep breath; the best way to deal with any of the Strawhat crew if you didn't want it to end in bloodshed and a broken alliance. "Did you not understand the first three times I went over the situation, Zoro-ya? I don't know if I can explain it in any simpler terms without resorting to coloring books and grade school lessons."

It may have been a little snippy, but for as confidently as he struts down the hallways of the naval base just those side of Marie Joice, Law could never get use to having marines on either side, standing at every doorway, eyeing him suspiciously as they walk past him in the halls. He'd seen what these men would do given the orders or the chance, so despite how well he could hide behind a haughty mask and arrogant demeanor, Law can't help feeling once more like a frightened child on the run from these very same men.

He had fully expected to have to lead Zoro through the whole parade, tell him not to jump at the sight of every uniform (as is still, deep down, Law's immediately response) but the other swordsman comes off as almost entirely unaffected. He makes eye contact with passing marines as if daring them to question his presence or better yet try something. He doesn't even have a hand on his sword, a sure sign of the boy's nervousness. He walks next to Law, appearing utterly calm and unafraid and, well, bored.

It's giving Law a headache to be honest. Could one if the Strawhats even pretend to behave like normal pirates?

When Zoro's shoulder bumps against Law's he wonders, fleetingly, if this this is the part where Zoro finally admits how paranoid this whole scene leaves him.

They walk past a pair of marines like that, Zoro leaning into his shoulder practically hanging off Law, and neither men blinks an eye. In fact, they make a point of not even glancing up at the passing pirates, their conversation going quiet and their eyes locked to the floor until they've past. That's been the case more and more this visit; a complete change from the first time Law had been invited where even privates and ensigns felt confident enough to give him bad looks, expressions that clearly asked what one of his kind was doing there.

Zoro also waits until the heavy steps of the two marines are mostly out of earshot before he leans, somehow, even closer. Until Law can feel the boy's hot mouth up against his skin, heating the metal hoops in his ear. "I'm so sorry oh powerful warlord," Zoro teases because, since it really occured to him that Law is a Shichibukai - and apparently one the government is desperate to keep on their side - he couldn't seem to stop himself from mocking the title. If it were any other pirate, Law could have chopped them into parts and been done with it, but for whatever reason he allows the vice captain of the straw hats to get away with such insults. "I must have been distracted at the time."

Ah, yes. That's why.

Law ducks his head, as if attempting to hide a smirk as they go by another three marines - ensigns based on their uniforms and the way their eyes go wide before they scurry past. Ah, well, at worst they'll think he's planning something big, something illegal (which he is, though not for a while) though more than likely they'll just think that's how pirates are. Cocky and unafraid.

Law doesn't mind the reputation.

Of course, if they knew the real reason Trafalgar Law, pirate captain, worst generation, and Shichibukai looked so damn smug they probably would have hurried by all the faster.

Is it his fault that there is something so pleasing about taking a man with the reputation of Roronoa Zoro and having him on his knees and begging? Law can't help the spark of pride knowing that while most others couldn't even halt Zoro's steps were he determined to get by, Law could leave him sprawled out, exhausted, panting on the bed after being made to come a fourth time and yet in two hours he'd crawl into Law's lap, needy and impatient and wanting anything the older pirate would give him.

It's enough to make any man a little conceited. After all, how many can say they've reduced the pirate hunter to such a desperate state?

Law has every right to feel proud.

Still nearly climbing on top of Law even as they walked, Zoro takes the other man's ear in his mouth, tongue first warming the metal and then teeth pulling at the earrings. Law really should make him stop; they must have all sorts of surveillance inside the base. But he just can't find it in him to do more than find the most obvious of the recording snails stuck to the walls, offering it and whoever is lucky enough to be watching a cocky smile.

And because Zoro, like the most crew, doesn't seem to understand the idea of subtle, he follows the bite up with, "I guess having you fuck my mouth interests me more than some political bullshit. Hard paying attention to all this useless junk when your buried that deep in my throat."

It's not romantic. It's hardly even sexy. And yet even as Zoro slides back into his own space, Law can feel something in his gut start to tighten, to want. It had been such a mistake to bring the swordsman along, he should have known better.

Only he'd received a hint from a certain high ranking, unnamed inspector general that the navy knew he was harbouring at least some of the Straw hats on his ship (However did they find that out, Zoro-ya? Maybe if you didn't insist on fighting every battle ship you saw). He would still be expected to attend the meeting, of course, but if he did show up they would certainly search his ship for the pirates and, failing that, likely charge him all the same. Especially after they couldn't use the Doflamigo incident against him, in part thanks to Issho's very live, very unscripted broadcast.

It seemed obviously to Law that their best option is to claim these straw hats had made the decision to work under him (some more literally than others) which only left the matter of which one to bring, to show Law isn't afraid of their suspicious.

Robin could lie very well and would have easily been the best choice, except she was just as likely to stand in front of some of the top ranked marines and inform them that, in fact, she is still and will always be a Strawhat. And she'd say it with a smile. Franky... Well, no. Franky wouldn't last two minutes into an interrogation. Usopp could lie, but there's a chance he'd over do it, or simple break down at the sight of so many marines.

No, Zoro had been his best choice, which is a condemnation of his chooses really. He's just hoping the vice captain will be able to clentch his teeth and get through it.

As added incentive, Law made plenty of promises.... And threats. Depending, of course, on Zoro's ability to behave.

"What's the point of even calling you out here?" Zoro asks in an entirely casual tone, as if he hadn't just described sucking Law off. "Not like the government acts wants your opinion on anything."

Law has to admit Zoro's right, but after the near catastrophe at Dressrosa, Law is trying to play ball. If they haven't expelled him yet it's because they need something from him, and Law is determined to find out what. "Just do as I tell you and don't make a scene," Law says, knowing those two instructions are impossible for any strawhat to follow, perhaps especially this one. "So long as you don't-"

Suddenly, Law is no longer looking at Zoro but at the plain walls of the military base. Confused, he looks back to see Zoro has come to a stop in the middle of the hall. There is a dangerous grin pulling at his lips, one that Law would definitely be afraid of of he hadn't seen it so many times right before Zoro swallowed him whole. Now it just makes him lose his breath a little too fast, the heat in his gut pours through the rest of him, becoming something he can't control.

Expect Zoro isn't looking his way at all.

"Hawkeye," Zoro says simply, and while his voice is harsh his expression certainly isn't. "I forgot they still recognize you as a Shichibukai. When I defeat you then, do I get that title as well?"

Law jerks to look back so abruptly he feels a little sick, but sure enough there he is; fellow Shichibukai and world's greatest swordsman. A title that Law knows Zoro coverts, perhaps explaining the gleam in his eyes as he stares down the other swordsman. Though Law would have expected it to hold more.... Hostility. Instead, despite the seriousness of his tone and the challenge in his eyes, Zoro's lips keep twitching, unable to completely hide the a smile.

He's probably just happy to get this chance at a rematch. Not that Law is about to let that happen in the middle of a marine base. Zoro may be less than cautious and driven by his heart rather than solid reason, but he isn't that crazy.

.... Is he?

"Roronoa," Mihawk greets him formally and, again, his voice even and devoid of humour, and yet the older Shichibukai does nothing to hide his smile. "How strange to see the rabbit has wandered so far from its burrow."

Zoro wrinkles his nose before deciding to go for something slight more intimidating. "I told you not to call me that." He might try and pass it off as a growl, but honestly he sounds like a pouting child. It's cute, in a way.

In the way that it would have been cute, if it had been for Law.

Mihawk's smirk grows more amused, more cocky at Zoro's reply. "I seem to recall you didn't mind at times." Mihawk's long strides eat up the room between him and Zoro in a matter of seconds, and before Law even thought to be on guard the older man is leaning down, whispering something for only Zoro to hear.

Law may not know what exactly is said, but he recognizes the flush in the other boy's cheeks, the way his eyes go wide before falling half closed as he rocks, almost consciously, up onto his toes and closer to the one teasing him.

It's a state he's enjoyed putting the swordsman in in the past, one he's never had to witness as a third party.

When Mihawk has finished, Zoro is just a touch too pink and too breathless for Law's comfort. But it's the smirk on the older swordsman's lips when he pulls away that makes Law clench his fist and bite doesn't hard. If they weren't at this base, he's fairly certain nothing, not even his intelligence or will to survive, could stop him from casting a room and cutting Mihawk's heart out. At the least.

It's only after Mihawk has had his fun with Zoro that he looks up, his sharp golden eyes falling on Law. Law can only remember one other time the master swordsman has graced him with so much as a vague consideration; when he'd first arrived here, a newly appointed warlord. Mihawk had merely regarded him with nothing more than a passing glance before declaring he had more important things to attend to and making a swift, unapologetic exit.

Now, though, his eyes seem to study Law like he's preforming a dissection, seeing parts of him that Law would have thought impossible to see.

"Trafalgar," Mihawk uses the same even tone as he had with Zoro, only lacking in any signs of warmth as he had with Zoro. "I see you decided to join us after all." Before Law can point out that he could hardly deny the summon he had been sent, Mihawk's eyes are back on Zoro. "Am I to believe the rumours of you abandoning your captain are true then, Roronoa?"

Before Zoro can ruin their cover (Law can see it in his face and feel the aura around him, this refusal to deny his captain) Law is quick to leap in. "Zoro-ya is under me now, if that is what you're asking," Law snaps, perhaps with more bite than is necessary. And if his words can be taken more than one way, well, that's really up to the listener to decide. "Otherwise, why would I entrust him to accompany me to this summit?"

[fyeahbatcat]

BatCat has been unnecessarily broken up AGAIN, in the comics. After 80 years, most Batman writers are still hesitant to allow Catwoman fully into the Batfamily, alongside Batman. As if there has to be a protective shield for Batman, in order to keep Catwoman away. What do you think it'll take, for DC to remove the BatCat time limit? Allowing for Bruce & Selina to have a more sustained relationship. Is it all on Tom King? Do you think Matt Reeves can make an impact, with his iteration of BatCat?

I really struggled with whether or not I should answer this, because there’s no way for me to be completely honest and give you the answer you were probably looking for. In any case my answer is below the cut, but be warned if you’re looking for words of comfort and solace they will not be found there. I’m just going to be very frank in a way that some may not like. 

DC Comics and Tom King told us exactly who they are on July 1, 2018. At this point I’m really not sure what else you were expecting. Yes; I fell for it at the time. I drank the Kool-Aid. But if I didn’t know better back then I sure as hell know better now. Believe what the evidence is telling you; not what you want to be true. What is evidence says it that they’ve become so morally and creatively bankrupt that they’ve resorted to outright lying to their fans and screwing over small businesses to sell comic books. 

This is going to sound very harsh but now is the time to start developing a sense of self preservation. DC Comics is not going to change. It doesn’t matter how passionate, supportive, loyal, patient, or forgiving you are. Those things have no value to them beyond their sales margins. There’s no sense in hoping that something is going to come along and inspire them to have a change of heart. DC Comics is a greedy corporation: they have no heart. 

What do I think it’ll take for DC to make a long-term commitment to the relationship? Complete financial desperation. I’m talking Marvel-Going-Bankrupt-Couldn’t-Afford-to-Buy-Paper-in-the-90s desperate. That or, to a much, much lesser degree, a complete overhaul in leadership, editorial, and organizational structure. Neither or which I think are going to happen. Not soon anyway. 

You have two options here. Number One: 

When you stop expecting anything from them and then you’ll stop being disappointed. I know people who are some how able to just roll with the punches, and take the good with the bad. If you want to just be able to enjoy reading comics as much as you can you’re going to have to become one of those people. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are bigger, far worse things happening in the world and if comics are your sense of calm in the storm and you’re able to manage your expectations, it’s worth it to continue reading. Just acknowledge that at this point we know what to expect from them and there’s no point in making a shocked Pikachu face every time they do exactly what they’ve been doing for the last 40 years. 

Your other option is very simple: it’s time to divest from DC Comics completely. DC Comics is not going to change and they’re not going to eventually give you what you if you just hold out long enough. I had to learn this lesson the hard way, and I’m telling you this so you can make an informed decision on whether or not you want to spend the next ten years of your life being constantly let down like I did. They have no incentive to change. With that said, let me introduce you to what I call “DC Comics’ Cycle of Deception.” 

This isn’t a fine science or anything but it usually looks a little something like this: 

1. The Tease AKA “Fan-Baiting” 

DC Comics/affiliates “announce” something that sounds new and exciting  or game-changing by way of interviews, solicitations, events, social media posts, etc. 

 Examples: 

“Catwoman will be the co-lead of Batman”

Lois Lane is the new Superwoman

Major character *death* 

2. The Hype 

DC begins to hype “new and exciting” event usually through increased variant covers, planned collector’s editions, tie-ins, merchandise. Sales/ pre-orders and fan engagement begin to increase. Creators engage in interviews with mainstream media outlets such as Entertainment Weekly   

Examples: 

Approx. 152,069 exclusive variant covers of Batman #50

Damian Wayne Requiem series

3. The Catch 

When the time comes it is revealed that instead of delivering whatever new and exciting story was promised, DC Comics’ pulls the rug from underneath of fans. This is commonly in the form of a bait and switch or use of shock value. 

Examples 

Batman #50 

Lois Lane dies in first issue of Superwoman 

Character is revived from death after a few issues

Story is written off as AU or dream sequence and will have no impact on future stories

4. The Backlash 

Fan express intense anger online. The backlash is sometimes reported in comic/pop culture news media.

5. The Decline 

In the months following the backlash DC returns to the status quo. Readers lose interest in current books. DC Comics’ pre-order sales begin to decline. They increasingly lose market shares and are pushed out of top 10 pre-ordered titles by Marvel.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

The problem with fans is we keep getting caught up in steps one and two very easily. We (and this included me for a very long time) are constantly rewarding DC Comics by throwing our money at them every time they do the absolute bare minimum. All they have to do is trot out batcat every so often in the most non-committal way and we come running. Every. Single. Time. 

They have absolutely no incentive to change, because we as fans have made it exceedingly easy for them to leech off of us. We can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect different results.

If you’re really tired of DC and their bullshit and you’re ready to divest you’re going to have to stop subsidizing their scams until they’re ready to make a commitment. Full stop. That means no rushing out to buy the latest issue of Batman and Catwoman kissing on a rooftop or beach or whatever. Stop buying variant covers completely (DC and Marvel [but DC in particular] uses variant covers to artificially inflate their sale numbers. Don’t play this game). Don’t buy their bullshit Wedding Album or 80 Years of Batman and Catwoman, or whatever else worthless “collectible” hardcover they publish. Put the onus on them to earn your money. If you really feel that you must keep up with what’s happening with the characters, pirate that shit. 

If and when a time ever comes that DC is ready to commit to change and commit to their stories (and actually commit; not just say they’re going to commit; make them prove it) then, and only then, should you consider giving them any more of your time, attention, or money. 

I don’t say this to be mean or harsh or judgey. I’m saying this because you asked me what I think and I’ve been where you are. I used to think that if I was loyal enough and patient enough that eventually I would be rewarded with this big emotional payout. It never happened. I don’t want you to end up where I am. Trust me; it’s not fun on this side of jaded. 

Maybe by sharing my brutal honesty about all that I’ve learned from my experiences it will save someone out there from years of constant frustration and heart-ache. At the very least you’ll know what you’re getting yourself into. 

[janekfan]

Starve

The slim aperture of light that fell across one unblinking eye illuminated its retina a soft, peculiar green, pupil dilating in a raw attempt to Know, as if the narrow gap Basira created by opening the door to take her turn in checking on Jon could slip it something new. Some relief for the weakness, the hunger, the pain of not feeding his god. She couldn’t help the visceral shudder; he was creepy, inhuman, there was no way around it, and as soon as his pale lids closed so did the door, key turning in the lock with dull finality.

“How’s he?” She couldn’t help the way she jumped when Daisy’s voice seemed to echo in her ear.

“Alive.”

Deftly, she pocketed the key. “You can bring him something to eat later.”

“A statement?” Daisy’s eyes narrowed.

“That would negate all the work he’s doing.” Before walking away she turned the handle a second time to make sure it was well and truly locked. He wanted this. He wanted to stop. More than that, he wanted to live and may have even found a reason. He was trying.

It didn’t stop her guilty disgust of him.

Funny that.

“Reheat the soup from yesterday.”

“He won’t, can’t, eat that.” Still not recovered fully from her stint in the Buried, Daisy was exerting herself to keep up with Basira’s quick and purposeful stride and when she stopped in the breakroom, bleak and empty despite the pair of them, she gulped down a glass of water.

“That’s not our fault.”

“Basira--”

“Jon chose this. He chose to feed off the trauma and fear of other people and they had no choice.” She wasn’t being fair. Anyone could see the strain being an avatar put on their human host. “But he had a choice, Daisy.” And now he, because of the pair of them, he has incentive.

“Just give me the key.” Basira rolled her eyes and Daisy narrowed hers.

“Fine, lock me in there with him then.” She made tea, used a mug for the soup and didn’t bother with adding a spoon to the tray with the napkins. Slipping a chilled bottle of water into her back pocket she glanced at Basira expectantly.

“It’s early.”

“And yet.”

Burning.

Gnawing.

Aching.

Jon swore he could feel the pieces of him being eaten away. If you won’t feed me, I’ll feed on you. Take all you’ve got until there’s nothing but monster left and the more he tried to resist, curl up around that spark of himself that was left, the more it hurt when the Eye lashed out in his mind, howling with hunger and rage and wrath at being denied.

It was dark here. Lonely here. Tim would laugh were he alive to see his old boss crying for the comfort of another living thing in this place. Someone, something to anchor him, console him, make him feel like any of this was worth it. That he wasn’t the biggest disappointment London had ever known.

Even if he didn’t deserve it.

Coward.

Beast.

Tormentor.

He wanted the Admiral.

A pang like a knife wound, he would know, ran him through the middle and he curled tightly into the jumper he’d found while rummaging in the early days when he had the strength to be bored. It hurt such that he found himself checking for the warmth and wetness of blood he was sure would be there.

Nothing.

Empty.

Cold.

He wanted Martin.

Daisy squeezed through the doorway and shut it with one hip, listening to the lock slide home before moving forward to set the tray on the desk and toss a spare shirt over the lamp. She hadn’t mentioned how easy it was for her to see in the dark to anyone yet. He was wrapped up in an unfamiliar jumper, shrouded in a familiar scent so faint she wasn’t sure he could smell it, and so oversized on him to the point he was nearly swallowed.

“Jon?” He never answered right away, taking at least a few moments to become aware of someone in the room with him since last week, but she warned him just the same. “Light’s coming on, Jon.” Settling beside the cot despite the pressure on her knees, she examined him in the dim. Despite the dark brown of his skin, he was pale and drawn. Diminished more each and every day without a statement. Withdrawal? Seemed more akin to starvation and she could relate. Daisy would need to discuss it with Basira. There wouldn’t be anything left if she let this continue.

“You’ve dropped a stone at least.” And was trembling. Gently she laid a hand against his neck, counting out his rapid pulse, taking note of his elevated temperature. “Feverish, too.” She mumbled. “Up you get.” It took some shoving and cajoling but she managed to get him propped against the wall with a mug of tea in his hands. Most days it was all he could stand. The sleeves of his stolen cable knit hung from wrists she could have held together in one hand.

“Ma’tin?” That was new. He’d recognized them up until now.

“No, but think of how cross he would be if you didn’t finish up your tea, hm?” She tapped the handle for emphasis but he didn’t seem to notice, blinking hard in an attempt to clear his vision.

“B’sira’s cross.”

“She is.” Cor, but he looked ill. “She’s not well pleased with your eating habits.” It was the wrong thing to say and immediately he folded in on himself, somehow becoming even smaller in a way she didn’t think was possible. “Hey, Jon, I didn’t mean--” It was eerily quiet, almost poetic. The tears scattering over his scarred, his marked hands, into the tea he gripped like a lifeline. “Alright, s���alright, Jon.” This wasn’t good for him. Locked down here all alone like an animal being taught a lesson it was helpless to learn. Awkwardly, Daisy patted his shoulder, wincing at the heat coming off him.

“Sorry.” He didn’t speak much anymore, too afraid of compelling either of them.

Too afraid.

Weren’t they all. But at least Daisy had Basira. At least Melanie had Georgie. At least Martin was sure he was making the correct decision for the rest of them.

“I brought soup? Think you could eat something?” Somehow he paled further, the sip he took from the cooling tea small and tentative and thankfully he kept it down, even finished close to half before swaying so abruptly she had to catch it out of his enervated fingers.

“Jon?”

“Jus,’ could I.” He swallowed and Daisy recognized the effort to avoid a compulsion and it looked so borderline painful she almost told him to go ahead and ask but he gained control of his wayward tongue, words clumsy and slow. “Lay down.” Licked chapped lips. “Please.” She helped him lest he just collapse there, going so far as to settle his head in her lap.

“There we go.” He turned his face into her soft shirt while she scrolled through a playlist, turning the Archers on low and ignoring the moisture steadily soaking her skin. She hadn’t been able to coax any water into him, instead using it to wet the napkins so she could provide some type of relief. Gently, she followed the slope and curve of his too prominent collarbones, swept up the column of his throat to brush over hollow cheeks and a damp forehead. With her other hand she pet back his salt and pepper hair, overgrown and long and filled with tangles she teased out with dexterous fingers. She let him rest like that for a while before the pain in her body forced her to move. Taking a swig from the water bottle after stretching, she knelt to offer him some, concerned when he didn’t shift. Patting his cheek elicited no reaction, she could hear the pulse in his overheated blood, thready and so fast.

“Jon, Jon, I need you to open your eyes for me.” No change, not even when she shook him hard by his boney shoulders, yelled into his face. She stumbled upwards. “Basira!” Legs on fire with pins and needles, Daisy held herself up by the door, pounding on it and calling out for Basira only to be met with silence. “Basira!” Shit. There was no reception down here. She glanced behind her. Jon hadn’t moved, just as slack as before, closed eyes wrung with black shadows, mouth slightly parted and chest barely moving with the effort of breathing. So caught up, Daisy nearly toppled forward when the door was removed and replaced with Basira, gun in hand, fear scent wafting off her in roiling waves.

“No! No, Jon’s ill. I can’t wake him.” She pushed past, “I’m getting a statement.” Basira held her shoulder fast.

“Maybe this is a good thing?”

“What?” Daisy all but shouted, pawing at Basira for the keys.

“Wait, wait. He can’t hurt people like this, take statements, maybe can’t even hover around in victims’ dreams. The Beholding will keep him alive, right?” Daisy was shell shocked into stillness and couldn’t even find anything to be angry about, not really. Basira had a point. Maybe this would be easier on all of them, Jon included. But just as quickly the thought passed as she remembered him crawling into a coffin for her after having the Boneturner rip pieces out of him for nothing.

“Well I don’t want to test it!” Her partner was currently stronger than she was. If Basira didn’t want to give up the keys there was no way to make her. “Please.”

“Daisy.”

“I get it, I know. But he’s. Our friend is still in there, Basira.” Frustration made her eyes prickle with tears she refused to let fall. “He’s tried so hard to do as we asked. Are we really going to abandon him completely because it’s convenient?” She could see the shift in Basira’s face and knew she was victorious.

“He wanted this. He wanted to be stopped.”

“I know.”

“One.”

“Thank you.”

“A short one. Wait here.”

The Dark was so heavy. Pressing in all around him, smothering, suffocating, strangling him. And he hurt. He was so hungry he hurt deep, deep, deep inside. Beyond the place where his ribs once were. Could he die like this? Would his god allow it?

What else was left to take?

The change was so slight he almost didn’t notice at first, almost didn’t hear. But the Eye did, searching, thirsting thing, hungrier than he could ever be for Knowing. And even this hurt, was agony after so long being deprived and if Jon were stronger, he’d be afraid of what would happen after. StabburnriptearremovecutslashwoundscarhealHURTKNOW

“Back with me?”

Who.

His eyes were open, staring, wide.

“Jon?”

His head in someone’s lap. Martin’s jumper, warm, safe, soft. Martin. Martin.

“I’ll keep going then, shall I?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just let the words come slowly, evenly, like a morphine drip steadily taking the edge off the worst of it all with each and every glorious syllable.

Unbidden, he cried for even that slight bit of relief. Sharp, stabbing, harsh, now dulled as the Eye turned its attentions from him to the statement Daisy, Daisy was reading. The pounding agony of his head retreated enough to think. To notice her hand stroking his hair, wiping away the tears he couldn’t seem to stop until long after she stopped speaking. Still cradling him, still touching him carefully like he might break under the weight of her palm.

“Jon?” He felt drugged. The larger share of the throbbing discomfort distanced while the last of the latent fear was devoured. Somehow, he dredged up a smile, watery and wavering. Somewhere in the room a tape recorder switched itself off.

“Daisy.” She sighed, the tension slipping out of her bones, and set aside the statement to lay the backs of her fingers along his skin.

“Fever’s down. That’s a relief.” Despite himself, Jon was exhausted, could already feel the drowsiness chipping away at his fear of sleep. When his eyes opened he realized he hadn’t been aware they’d closed in the first place. His head was on the pillow, a warm weight lined his side and he tipped just far enough to see when an arm slung itself over his skinny waist. “Rest, Jon. M’not going anywhere quite yet.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724659 

[pamphletstoinspire]

Feast of the Holy Family – Sunday after Epiphany - Latin Calendar

Little Litany of the Holy Family

Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Hear us. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Help our family.

That we may love poverty, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love humility, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love labor, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love order, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love quiet, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love kindness, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love charity, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love courtesy, Holy Family, hear us. That we may love peace, Holy Family, hear us.

O Lord God Who on earth loved poverty and humility, teach us to live in our families in peace and quiet order and with charity to all. Amen. 

by Abbot Gueranger

This Sunday has been chosen by the Church for the celebration of the Feast of the Holy Family; the liturgy of the day, as expressed in the Gospel, harmonizes well with the mystery of this Feast, for it carries us forward to the childhood of our Emmanuel and gives us those wonderful words of His Blessed Mother, we must ever ponder within our hearts: “And He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them.”

The Feast of the Holy Family is of recent origin. In 1663 Barbara d’Hillehoust founded at Montreal the Association of the Holy Family; this devotion soon spread and in 1893 Pope Leo XIII expressed his approval of a Feast under this title and himself composed part of the Office. The Feast was welcomed by succeeding Pontiffs as an efficacious means for bringing home to the Christian people the example of the Holy Family at Nazareth, and by the restoration of the true spirit of family life, stemming, in some measure, the evils of modern society. These motives led Pope Benedict XV to insert the Feast into the Universal Calendar, and from 1921 it has been fixed for this present Sunday.

The Lessons for the Second Nocturn of Matins are taken from the Apostolic Letter of Pope Leo XIII, Neminem Fugit, of June 14, 1892:

When a merciful God determined to complete the work of human reparation which the world had awaited throughout long ages, He so established and designed the whole, that from its very inception, it would show to the world the sublime pattern of a divinely constituted family. In this all men should see the perfect example of domestic unity, and of all virtue and holiness. Such was the Holy Family of Nazareth, in which before He had shone forth in full light to all nations, the Sun of Justice, Christ Our Lord and Savior, led a hidden life with the Virgin Mary for Mother and most Holy Joseph for foster-father. There is no doubt that all those virtues of ordinary home life, those acts of mutual love, holy behavior and pious practices shone forth in the highest degree in this Holy Family, destined to be a model for all others. Accordingly, the benign dispositions of Providence fashioned that Family so that every individual Christian, whatever his condition or station, by turning his attention to it, could find in it easily, reason and incentive for the exercise of every virtue.

Fathers of families, for example, have in St. Joseph a shining pattern for watchfulness and foresight. Mothers have in the most Holy Virgin Mother of God an extraordinary model of love, of modesty, of submissiveness of mind, and of perfect faith. Children of the family have in Jesus, Who was subject to Joseph and Mary, a divine example of obedience to admire, cultivate and imitate. Those nobly born may learn from a Family of royal blood how to restrain themselves in good fortune, and to retain their dignity in ill. The rich may learn from this family how much less estimable are riches than virtue. If working men and all those sorely harassed by family distresses and meager circumstances would but look to the most holy members of this domestic society, they would find there reason to rejoice rather than to grieve at their lot. In common with the Holy Family they have to work, they have to provide for the daily needs of life. St. Joseph had to work at his trade to earn a living; even the divine hands toiled at the artisan’s profession. Surely then we need not wonder that wise men who were rich, cast their wealth aside willingly, and chose poverty in company with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

For all these reasons, therefore, it was right and proper that devotion to the Holy Family should have been introduced among Catholics and once begun should have grown from day to day. Proof of this lies first in the sodalities instituted under the invocation of the Holy Family; then in the unique honors bestowed upon it; and above all, by the privileges and favors granted to this devotion by Our predecessors to stimulate fervor and piety in its regard. This devotion was held in great honor, even in the seventeenth century. Having been widely propagated through Italy, France and Belgium, it spread through practically the whole of Europe. Passing over the vast tract of the Atlantic Ocean, it was extended in America, throughout Canada, where under favorable circumstances, it flourished. Nothing truly can be more salutary or efficacious for Christian families to meditate upon than the example of the Holy Family, which embraces the perfection and completeness of all domestic virtues. When Jesus, Mary and Joseph are invoked in the home, there They foster charity, there They exert a good influence over conduct, set an example of virtue, and make more bearable the hardships of every life. — To increase devotion to the Holy Family, Pope Leo XIII prescribed that Christian families should be dedicated to It. Pope Benedict XV extended the Mass and Office to the whole Church.

In the Third Nocturn, St. Bernard comments on the Gospel of the day (given below):

“And He was subject to them.” Who? To whom? God to man! God, I say, to Whom the Angels are subject, Whom Principalities and Powers obey, He, indeed, was subject to Mary. Nor to Mary only, but to Joseph because of Mary. Marvel, therefore, at both, and choose whether you will most wonder at the benign condescension of the Son, or the exceedingly great dignity of the Mother. Both are amazing; both miraculous. That God should obey a woman is humility without parallel. That a woman should rule God is sublimity without equal. In praise of virgins, it is sung, that they follow the Lamb whithersoever He goes. But what praise can set forth Her dignity, Who leads Him.

Learn, O man, to obey. Learn, O earth, to be subject. Learn, O dust, to submit. The Evangelist, in speaking of thy Maker says, and He was subject to them. Without any doubt he was subject to Mary and Joseph. Be ashamed, O proud ashes. God humbles Himself, and you—do you exalt yourself? God subjected Himself to men, and do you, longing to dominate men, place yourself above your Creator? Should I, at any time, think such a thing, would that God would deign to answer me as He answered in rebuking His Apostle: “Get behind Me, satan… for thou dost not mind the things of God, but those of men.” (Matt. 16: 23) As often as I desire pre-eminence over men, so often do I strive to go before God. Truly then I savor not the things that are of God. For of Him it was said, and He was subject to them. If, man, you disdain to imitate the example of men, surely it will not be an indignity to you to follow that of your Creator. If, perchance, you cannot follow Him whithersoever He goes, deign at least to follow Him when He humbles Himself for you.

If you are not able to walk along the sublime path of virginity, at least follow God by the very safe way of humility. Should anyone depart from this straight way—even though he be a virgin—he does not, the truth must be told, follow the Lamb whithersoever He goes. The one is not able to ascend to the spotlessness of the Lamb Who is without spot, nor does the other deign to descend to the meekness of the Lamb Who remained dumb, not before His shearers only, but before His murderers. Yet the sinner following in humility chooses a more salutary way than the proud man who follows in virginity, inasmuch as the humble satisfaction cleanses the uncleanness of the first, whereas pride defiles the chastity of the other.

In the Holy Sacrifice, the Introit recalls the joy that must have filled the cave of Bethlehem on that Christmas night; let us again rejoice with Mary and Joseph and sing the praises of the resting-place of the Lord of Hosts:

(Prov. 23) The father of the Just rejoices greatly; let Thy father and Thy mother be joyful, and let her rejoice that bore Thee. (Ps. 83) How lovely are Thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts: my soul longs and faints for the courts of the Lord. V. Glory be to the Father…

The Church prays in the Collect that the home life of every Christian family may be sanctified and perfected by the example of that of the Holy Family; this is Her unceasing wish for Her children:

O Lord Jesus Christ, Who by subjecting Thyself to Mary and Joseph didst consecrate family life with wonderful virtues: grant that, by Their joint assistance, we may fashion our lives after the example of Thy Holy Family, and obtain everlasting fellowship with It. Who livest and reignest…

After the Commemorations of the Sunday and of the Octave, there follows a Lesson from the Epistle of St. Paul the Apostle to the Collosians:

Brethren: Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, a heart of mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, patience. Bear with one another and forgive one another, if anyone has grievance against any other; even as the Lord has forgiven you, so also do you forgive. But above all these things have charity, which is the bond of perfection. And may the peace of Christ reign in your hearts; unto that peace, indeed, you were called in one body. Show yourselves thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly: in all wisdom teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns and spiritual songs, singing in your hearts to God by His grace. Whatever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. (c. 3)

If we would attain to charity, the bond of perfection which unites all Christians together in the one great family of God, we must pay heed to those virtues which the Epistle puts before us. We must be full of mercy, benignity, humility, modesty and patience; we must bear with one another and forgive one another, after the example of the Incarnate Word. Then the peace of Christ will dwell not only in our hearts, but in those around us, and our homes will truly become like that of Nazareth, where Jesus, Mary and Joseph were ever singing in Their hearts to God by His grace.

In the Gradual Holy Church again celebrates the praises of the House of the Lord; She proclaims the blessedness of those that obtain lasting fellowship in the heavenly home above; yet in the Alleluia verse She recalls the lowliness of the earthly home of our Emmanuel, which made Him truly a hidden King:

(Ps. 26) One thing I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life. V. (Ps. 83) Blessed are they who dwell in Thy house, O Lord; they shall praise Thee forever and ever. Alleluia, alleluia. V. (Isa. 45) Verily Thou art a hidden God, the God of Israel, the Savior. Alleluia.

The Gospel is taken from the Second Chapter of St. Luke:

When Jesus was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem according to the custom of the feast. And after they had fulfilled the days, when they were returning, the Boy Jesus remained in Jerusalem, and His parents did not know it. But thinking that He was in the caravan, they had come a day’s journey before it occurred to them to look for Him among their relatives and acquaintances. And not finding Him, they returned to Jerusalem in search of Him. And it came to pass after three days, that they found Him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, both listening to them and asking them questions. And all who were listening to Him were amazed at His understanding and His answers. And when they saw Him, they were astonished. And His Mother said to Him, “Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold, Thy father and I have been seeking Thee sorrowing.” And He said to them, “How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know I must be about My Father’s business?” And they did not understand the word that He spoke to them. And He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them; and His Mother kept all these things carefully in Her Heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and grace before God and men.

Thus, O Jesus, didst Thou come down from Heaven to teach us. The tender age of Childhood, which Thou didst take upon Thyself, is no hindrance to the ardor of Thy desire that we should know the one and only God, Who made all things, and Thee, His Son, Whom He sent to us. When laid in the Crib, Thou didst instruct the Shepherds by a mere look; when swathed in Thy humble swaddling-clothes, and subjected to the voluntary silence Thou hadst imposed on Thyself, Thou didst reveal to the Magi the light they sought in following the star. When twelve years old, Thou didst explain to the Doctors of Israel the Scriptures which bear testimony to Thee. Thou gradually didst dispel the shadows of the Law by Thy presence and Thy words. In order to fulfill the commands of Thy Heavenly Father, Thou dost not hesitate to occasion sorrow to the Heart of Thy Mother, by thus going in quest of souls that need enlightening. Thy love of man will pierce that tender Heart of Mary with a still sharper sword, when She shall behold Thee hanging on the Cross, and expiring in the midst of cruelest pain. Blessed be Thou, sweet Jesus, in these first Mysteries of Thine Infancy, wherein Thou already showest Thyself devoted to us, and leavest the company of Thy Blessed Mother for that of sinful men, who will one day conspire Thy Death. 

Prayer for a Catholic Family

God of goodness and mercy, we commend to thy all-powerful protection our home, our family and all that we possess. Bless us all as thou didst bless the holy family of Nazareth.

O Jesus, our most holy Redeemer, by the love with which thou didst become man in order to save us, by the mercy through which thou didst die for us upon the cross, we entreat thee to bless our home, our family, our household. Preserve us from all evil and from the snares of men; preserve us from lightning and hail and fire, from flood and from the rage of the elements; preserve us from thy wrath, from all hatred and from the evil intentions of our enemies, from plague, famine and war. Let no one of us die without the Holy Sacraments. Bless us, that we may always openly confess our faith which is to sanctify us, that we may never falter in our hope, even amid pain and affliction, that we may ever grow in love for Thee and in charity toward our neighbor.

O Jesus, bless us, protect us.

O Mary, Mother of grace and mercy, bless us, protect us against the evil spirit; lead us by the hand through this vale of tears; reconcile us with thy divine Son; commend us to Him, that we may be made worthy of his promises.

Saint Joseph, reputed father of our Saviour, guardian of his most holy Mother, head of the holy family, intercede for us, bless and protect our home always.

Saint Michael, defend us against all the wicked wiles of hell.

Saint Gabriel, obtain for us that we may understand the holy will of God.

Saint Raphael, preserve us from ill health and all danger to life.

Holy Guardian Angels, keep us day and night in the way to salvation.

Holy Patrons, pray for us before the throne of God.

Bless this house, Thou, God our Father, who didst create us; Thou, divine Son, who didst suffer for us on the cross; Thou, Holy Spirit, who didst sanctify us in baptism. May God, in his three Divine Persons, preserve our body, purify our soul, direct our heart, and lead us to life everlasting.

Glory be to the Father, glory be to the Son, glory be to the Holy Ghost. Amen.

(Indulgence 200 days Leo XIII)  

[deralpi]

Most of the conversations after the most recent episode covered either the ingenuity of Jester’s masterful deceit or Beau’s decision to sacrifice her new-found happiness to lift the misery constraining their friend. Because Beau is my favorite character, I feel obligated to give my opinion on the latter in an unapologetically unstructured manner.

In my eyes, Beau is an uncompromisingly selfless character who denies it with every word she utters. In that aspect, I always draw internally the connection to Nynaeve, a character of the Wheel-of-Time book series, where one can observe a stark discrepancy between what she says and thinks in comparison to what actions she actually takes. 

Very early one, during the Lorenzo arc, she had already been ready to lay down her life to protect the Nein and this conviction hasn’t wavered since. When Fjord was surrounded and harassed by the Laughing Hand and Yasha, the odds were stacked high against his survival. If one worked out the percentages, the much safer option would’ve been to leave right then and there; it had been much more likely that their losses would’ve been added up to two, instead of reduced to zero if somebody went to aid. But who stormed in regardless? The self-proclaimed egoist.

But why do I unravel all this now? Because that moment had confirmed for me what I had observed before: Beau would do everything to save her friends.

So when Beau entered the hut the offer she presented was no surprise to me. If anything I had always expected her to go down like that; by doing something profoundly selfless. The manner in which it had nearly happened, however, I never could’ve imagined predicting. 

But it wasn’t just the desire to help Nott so she could live her life again; it was also about the inevitable end (hah) of the future of their little adventuring party. Their common list of objectives is slowly dwindling. For the first time — after being flung from the Empire to the coast to Xhorhas and then to the Empire again, diving into adventure after adventure — an end is in sight. Traveler Con seems to be their last destination on their agenda, but even if it isn’t, their days as an adventuring party are numbered, because this, regardless of how lovely their time together had been, wouldn’t hold up forever. People would want to settle down at some point, to tread diverging paths and build a life for themselves. They would still be friends, of course, but they wouldn’t be around each other every day of the year. And who would be the odd one out and end up alone again? In Beau’s head there is a clear answer to that.

There are inevitable outcomes attached to every concern she harbors, and she has been noticing them for a while now, but purposely ignored them. It is the reason why she has been so critical of destiny in the past; the inevitability in it frightens her, and only recently (episode 92) she came to terms with it. Cut to the present and all the stars seemed to have aligned — Molly’s lessons, her connection to Nott through the Hag, the fact that she had the least to lose and everybody else too much to live for. Somebody had to pay a price, and if that is the case it might as well be her, because the patterns she noticed all led up to it.

I brought up the inevitability factor because it is deeply intertwined, in making the decision, with one of Beau’s core philosophies: all but an obsession to meet every encounter on her terms. She saw herself as an asshole and everyone else would come to see it too, so why not utilize her innate ability to cause dislike and take control of the situation. If we apply this to the relevant scenario with the inevitable separation of the group on the horizon, why wouldn’t she leave on her terms and save a friend while doing so? Quit while you are ahead because it won’t get any better.

And the things she was ready to sacrifice… To know that the hag feeds on misery is one thing, it is another to offer everything about her existence but her life. One of these offerings would’ve already at the very least provoked interest, but to lay it all on the line… It’s like overpaying for something vitally important in addition to the insurance that it would be done right. An offer so lucrative even a hag (lawful or not) wouldn’t dream to attempt foul play.

These factors I listed I consider highly influential in her decision making (making up around 90% if I had to put a number on it), but there is another matter I wanted to bring up: Jester. 

I think Beau has fallen quite hard for her and it is evident in her behavior that she seems out of her depth on how to handle it. From observations alone — the pining after Fjord, the attraction towards the Traveler, the unending doodles of dicks — it isn’t all too likely on a surface level that Beau’s feelings would ever be reciprocated. There are possible scenarios that would turn things around, but I don’t know if Beau sees those as mere fantasies at this point. 

One might scoff at the possibility that such a trivial matter, not at all pertaining to the circumstance at hand, factored into Beau’s decision making, and I’m not claiming that it did, I just want to address the possible influence it could’ve had. As it stands Beau could (!) feel to be on the receiving end of unreciprocated love, and we only have to look at real-life to see how hurtful that can end up being. Many in her position have decided to distance themselves from the one they loved, for though it hurt them tremendously it was the only place from where they could move on.

Ever since Jester had become her roommate and accepted her the way she was, their room had become Beau’s safe space where she didn’t have to feel alone anymore, but the moment Beau was smitten with her their intimate togetherness was tainted by the underlying awkward friction. What was comfortable became entirely uncomfortable. Now she feels trapped in the false dichotomy where she has to choose between ending up alone or getting her heart broken.

This would never be the sole point on which she decides to leave the group, but I think it isn’t too far stretched that amongst all the things I have previously listed this notion could have posed as an incentive to clasp hands with a hag.

But where does she go from here, now that her plan has been completely overthrown?

With no immediate threat on the horizon (*fingers crossed*) this time frame lends the perfect opportunity to give in to some soul-searching. So that the inevitability of the eventual separation doesn’t frighten her anymore she needs a perspective and a goal. When we first met her all she wanted were physical fights and money to spend on overpriced booze. This would have proven sufficient under the nihilistic outlook she had adopted the moment her only aspiration was shattered into a million pieces when her father’s hand found her cheek, but now she lives in an environment where she gets encouraged to open up and spread her wings and nihilism is a thing of the past. It is on her to recapture the brief glimmer of bright-eyed excitement she showed when she spoke about her version of taking over her father’s business, to find something substantial and lasting to strive for. 

Just imagine what Beau and Caleb could achieve as an unprecedented friendship between Assembly and Soul if this is something she would set out to do. It needn’t be such a lofty goal to attain meaning in her life, but the possibilities are as endless as her capabilities.

Aim high and reach for the stars, young lion.

I don’t know if I added anything significant by posting this but I had to get it out of my system. Thanks to everyone who read my word vomit to the end!

[linkspooky]

Dazai and Chuuya: Ningen Shikkaku

Chuuya and Dazai are one of the most heavily discussed partnerships in the manga. The two of them are clearly set up as foils the same way Atsushi and Akutagawa the main character and the main rival are. However, while Atsushi and Akutagawa are “different, but the same” in a way that makes them come into conflict the partnership between Chuuya and Dazai reads differently to me. Rather than “different, but the same” its “Different, but desires the same” as both Chuuya and Dazai desire to live as human beings but go about achieving that in completely different ways. 

For more analysis on “Double Black” or “Soukoku” and their connection to “Ningen Shikkaku” or “No Longer Human” the author Osamu Dazai’s most famous work, read under the cut. 

Double Black is a partnership that functions despite the two characters seeming hatred of one another. It’s a rivalry and a friendship in one, because while both of them are constantly competing and put off by one another. 

Both Chuuya and Dazai also know each other well. They are so familiar with the other so much so that the other functions as an extension of their own self. Therefore their hatred of each other comes not from being unable to comprehend the other but rather familiarity. They hate each other because they know each other. They also, get the other. 

I would go one step further to say both of them see each other as a person, in the others eyes, which is also something that frustrates them. When Chuuya is introduced to Dazai in Fifteen it’s all too easy to see him as a suicidal maniac or a cold blooded mafioso. However, against CHuuya’s own wishes he comes to understand Dazai by the end of the story as someone who wants to live. 

1. On Dazai and Human Beings 

Dazai as well has a tendency to not see the people around them as people. While not extreme as Dostoevsky is, Dazai is manipulative, and explicitly has been referenced several times to move people around like chess pieces on a board. 

It’s important to notice that Dazai’s behavior is not just the result of him being a brilliant mastermind. Though, it is a symptom of him being so smart it is practically a flaw in his character. If you read Dostoevsky as a foil to inform us on Dazai’s mindset (as Dazai tends to be cagey about where his own thoughts and beliefs lie especially to the audience) then, Dazai’s thinking is similiar to Fyodor he can read the thoughts of others so well that it’s hard for him to consider them an equal unless they have the same level of intellect as him. 

In other words Dazai is so used to being the smartest person in the room, that it’s done the exact opposite for his development. Oda in general has always had the best read on Dazai. 

‘‘That guy is just a child who’s too smart. Just a crying child who’s been left alone in the darkness, a world of nothingness far emptier than the world we can see.’’

Dazai is so smart he can read the situation while literally in jail with little to no contact with the outside world, just because he’s predicted the actions of everybody involved probably weeks in advance, then relay those orders to Ango. His method of planning is always to make plans on his own that predict the actions of others, and then trusting that they will follow through on his predictions of them without even telling them what he expects.  Dazai is able to anticipate their actions in certain situations so well, it begins to seem as if they are not complex organisms independent from him with their own thoughts and feelings, but instead pre-programmed npcs on the rails serving their role in his game. 

This predictive ability is something that has utterly stunted him as a person. We know nothing about Dazai as a child beyond his relationship with Mori, and the fact that he was already suicidal at fifteen years old but imagine what it must be like growing up when you are already smarter than most adults you meet. Children need adults to guide them in their formative years. However, Dazai who even as a child is already smart enough to see the hypocrisies present in the adults trying to guide him (Mori again, who was probably the worst person to raise someone like Dazai, but more on that later) Dazai is someone who has absolutely no incentive to grow up. Therefore he stays a child in the darkness, therefore he stays lost. 

It’s Dazai’s natural tendency to not see people around him as human beings capable of making their own decisions, and with a rich internal world that is separate from their own. It’s also a flaw he has to fight against. This is why we see him despite Akutagawa’s desperation for a connection with him, separating himself from Akutagawa unless he needs something from him. This is why even though he does genuinely trust and value the Detective Agency, why Dazai has a habit of going off on his own, never informing the others of his actions and his intentions until it comes time to make a decision. While Dazai is better than Fyodor, this is still manipulative behavior. Here’s the thing the less information you let another person have the less control they have over the situation. Especially if when it comes time to make the decision you frontload them with all of the information that you were holding back all along with the intention of pointing them to the decision you want them to make. Dazai does this all with good intentions, but he still relies on his tricks from his mafia days to achieve them. Dazai doesn’t trust other people with all the information, up front, and trust them with transparency of his intentions. 

In that way he doesn’t give them full free independence to move. Dazai is so good at reading people on the surface, and the way they act externally, that he basically has no interest in their internal worlds at all. 

Dazai enjoys humans as a whole, he wants to help them rather than Fyodor who wants to kill them to save them from their own sinfulness. However, it’s important to recognize he still talks about humans as a whole like an outsider of the group. As if he’s an observer looking at the herd of humanity, and something else rather than a human being himself. 

Which finally ties to the literary influence in Dazai’s character. A lot of this comes from  Ōba Yōzō, the protagonist of no longer human, a troubled man incapable of revealing his true self to others, and who is instead forced to uphold a facade of hollow jocularity. 

Yozo speaks over and over again about human beings as a whole as if they were some kind of aliens he was never meant to understand. 

In other words, you might say that I have no understanding of what makes human beings tick. 

[...]

I might have already been disqualified as living among human beings. 

[...]

I find it difficult to understand the kind of human being who lives, or who is sure he can live, purely, happily, serenely while engaged in deceit. Human beings never did teach me that abstruse secret. If I had only known that one thing I should never had to dread human beings so, nor should I have opposed myself to human life, nor tasted such torments of hell every night. 

[...]

I have tried insofar as possible to avoid getting involved in the sordid complication of human beings. 

[...]

I know that I am liked by other people, but I seem to be deficient in the faculty to love others, (I should add that I have very strong doubts as to whether human beings possess this faculty.)

Especially with the last quote it becomes apparent what Yozo’s real issue is. He is unable to see himself as a human being, and therefore he projects his dehumanization and sense of alienation onto all others. It’s not Human Beings as the problem, but rather Yozo’s complete inability to see, or treat other people as people that leads to his further isolation from them. 

Which connects to Dazai’s character really well. He sees himself as some kind of nonliving thing, a corpse that keeps walking around delaying his eventual suicide, and therefore he does not see other people around him as people too. He projects that they are the ones who are far too difficult to understand, who are far to seethrough and transparent that he sees all of their hypocrisies and is afraid of them. Yet, Dazai never confronts his own hypocrisies either even though he is rife with them. He projects outward his fears about himself onto other people, but it’s Dazai who understands himself the least, and it’s Dazai who sees himself as the least human. 

Notice that Dazai’s sense of alienation may come from his intelligence, but at the same time his one and only friend and the most important person in his life was not a super genius. Mori is the person who in the Port Mafia who has the most in common with Dazai seeing people as mere tools to move according to his wants, and even attempting to mentor Dazai to do the same. It’s Oda, who is not a genius. Rather, Dazai sees Oda as a good person, something he can never see himself as being. 

That’s what Dazai’s lesson in “Dark Era” is. There is no magical components inside of you that makes you a good person. From the way Dazai talks he’s already aware at least what the right thing to do, he just doesn’t do it at the time. The thing is Oda wasn’t born a good person. He just decided to become one in his own way one day. He had the freedom to choose that and define himself. Dazai is so scared of what a bad person he is, he lacks the self reflection to try to define himself and keeps his internal workings a mystery probably even to himself. 

Oda was Dazai’s friend and equal, even though he was not a super genius like Fyodor or a cunning manipulator like Mori, because he saw and treated Dazai consistently like a human being. That was the only great secret to the mystery that is Osamu Dazai. The mystery is that there’s not much of a mystery at all, Dazai just fools you into believing that he’s an unreadable ghost because he does not want other people, or more likely himself to understand his own actions. He is a paradox, smarter than everyone around him, and yet deeply insecure and finding himself inferior to all other human beings and their values of righteousness. This is why Dazai’s other biggest foil besides Chuuya is Kunikida, someone who strives for the ideal while Dazai is someone who falls far below the ideal. But those ideals in the first place, are just human concepts that were thought up by human beings, not natural things they were born with. 

As smart as he is, Dazai doesn’t get that. He doesn’t understand that the things that sabotage him from righteousness are not supposed inhuman flaws and qualities that he has. Rather, because of his painfully human flaws, his insecurities towards others, his inability to connect, him being trapped inside of his own head, and only perceiving things from his own point of view. Dazai is clearly not intended to be a psychopath, he has emotions as he was clearly distraught by Oda’s death, he clearly has the ability to make connections to other people and values those connections to the point where he’s clearly trying to improve how he treats Atsushi vs how he treated Akutagawa. “I’m hated by righteousness”, and “I’m a bad person” him being an inhuman, unfeeling demon is just Dazai’s own personal narrative to stop him from confronting the weakness of his own character. 

The joke of No Longer Human is that Yozo while not seeing himself as a human being, is tripped up by what are very obviously human qualities, his anxiety towards other people, his need to be loved, his fear or rejection causing him to hide his true self. Dazai Osamu is as human as everybody else, but he denies his own humanity, thus he is the human failure, thus he is disqualified from being a human being, thus he is no longer human. 

2. On Chuuya and Human Beings

Unlike Dazai, Chuuya has far more of a claim to not being a human being. After all, he literally sees himself as an empty body possessed by Arahabaki who is a weird extra dimensional being. 

Chuuya is Dazai’s inverse, rather than someone who actively and habitually avoids his own humanity, Chuuya is desperate to learn about his origins. He wants to fill in the darkness and the gaps in himself, whereas Dazai would rather leave things in the dark. 

The irony of course being that Chuuya, even though he has some kind of unknowable void inside of him and his origins are completely a mystery even to him, to the point where he does not know if he was a corpse that was resurrected, a child that was possessed after being used by experiments, and if his current identity is his own, if there are vestiges of his old identity, if he’s entirely arahabaki, or a fusion of the two. Chuuya’s origin is confusing even to him, and this is entirely on purpose. Unlike Dazai who avoids confronting his true nature nature, Chuuya’s true nature is unknowable even when he searches for it. The irony being, that even though one could make the argument that Chuuya is genuinely an inhuman entity, that Chuuya is much more human on the surface than Dazai and gets along with other human beings better than Dazai ever could. 

Unlike Dazai who can predict people so far in advance that he does not ned to trust others, and therefore often makes decisions for them, or withholds information until the last moment and infleunces them into making the choice he wants to make, Chuuya is someone who fundamentally trusts others. Even down to his ability “Tainted” using it requires him to trust the fact that Dazai who he supposedly hates and who hates him in return will be there to stop it. 

If “isolation” is a central theme to Dazai’s character, then “Trust” and “Loyalty” are what is most important to Chuuya. His entire identity revolves around them. This is also specifically from his origins, Chuuya had nothing, no place of belonging, no memories of the past, just an unfathomable black void in his mind when he was found. That is why he relies on the others around him entirely to give him any sense of identity. 

If Dazai’s inability to trust is a flaw. If he cannot see righteousness, trust, or loyalty, because he sees through people too well to believe in those ideals and only sees them as hypocrisy. Then, Chuuya’s flaw is that he trusts too much. That he believes in trust and loyalty to the people around him to the point that he lets them use him. Dazai was only able to find his identity after leaving the mafia, but Chuuya’s identity is so tied up in the mafia, that he could never leave, or never doubt someone like Mori the way Dazai does. 

It’s apparent in his relationship with the Sheep in “Fifteen.” 

The Sheep insist that Chuuya is obligated to fight for them because he has a strong ability, despite the fact that he’s the leader they almost never listen to him even when he only has their best interest in mind. 

Dazai tells him he “acts like a sheep in the eyes of wolfs.” If Dazai is someone who considers himself an outside, like a shepard who can never truly belong in the herd but can guide them in their best interest. Then Chuuya sees himself as a wolf pretending to be a sheep. Not with the intent of eating them, but because he desperately wants to be recognized as a part of the herd. Unlike Dazai Chuuya is much more open about his want to have a sense of belonging with other people. However, instead of being accepted he had the opposite result. Chuuya was a sheep all along, and the others were like wolves deceiving him only to prey on him and take advantage of him. Chuuya had no family or relatives, and he still sees the sheep as better than him for accepting him despite him knowing nothing about himself. He sees himself as someone lower than them because of that inhuman part of his character and the things he does not know about himself. The truth is though, that Chuuya is just another sheep and Dazai can see it as plain as day. 

His want to be accepted, his want to have a place of belongings, his want to have a personality, mind, values, the way he takes his identity from others around him, those are all human traits. Dazai sees this, especially since these are desires that Dazai deliberately avoids and denies himself. 

Chuuya as a peson is someone who is desperately seeking answers for himself. However, he does not believe he has those answers inside of himself. He sees himself as someone who is unnatural, and therefore far inferior to the other human beings around him. Therefore he relies on the guidance of “human beings”. Which is his exact flaw that always results in him being loyal to the wrong people. 

Mori is a bad person, but he also gave Chuuya the answers that Chuuya needed the most, when he needed them the most. 

Chuuya believes there is something missing inside of himself, and his loyalty to the port mafia, and the others is something that can fulfill that missing thing, but he’s wrong and such blind loyalty only results in him getting used repeatedly. As he sees himself as an inhuman tool in the first place, he thinks he can be fulfilled by finding someone to use him the right way. 

3. Dazai and Chuuya’s Relationship

So, Dazai and Chuuya deep inside of themselves both want the same thing. They both want to find their place among human beings. They go about it in opposite ways. Dazai ran away from the mafia and chose the path of saving people. Chuuya stayed with the mafia and chose the path of loyalty to find a place of belonging. 

I don’t write meta to declare characters good or bad people, but Dazai is kind of a jerk. He’s manipulative and does not see other people as individuals but rather pieces he can move around to get what he wants, and yet he is on the side of saving people. Chuuya sees other human beings as individuals and he sees himself as the tool. He is generally much more concerned about the welfare of individual people. He is capable of trusting others. He is concerned for Akutagawa’s well being and treats him much better than Dazai ever did. He fights to protect his friends, and values life a whole lot more. Yet, at the same time he’s on the side of the Port Mafia, he’s on the side of killing people for the mafia. 

One of Chuuya’s major weaknesses is he only tends to see those he’s loyal to, and the friends around him as human beings. Even though he’s much better at making those friendships and connections than Dazai ever is. Despite respecting other people, he is also much more willing to be cutthroat and kill those he considers in the “outside group” in order to protect those within his group. 

Ironically Chuuya’s behavior is exactly what Fyodor refers to as a “Sinfully stupid” human choice to make, because knowing he’s being manipulated he still chooses to kill the other organization head because it is his best bet to save the people he’s loyal to. 

This is why we see Chuuya and Dazai in such opposite positions. Chuuya’s behavior just comes off as a lot more human than Dazai’s does. He genuinely believes in the human values that Dazai rejects. It’s most apparent in their relationship with Mori. 

Dazai is someone who despite seeming like the same type of person as Mori, someone who only sees other people as tools to use for their own purposes sees through Mori. He knows the parts of Mori are selfish and only acting on his own desires rather than making decisions for the good of the organization as he claims. 

Chuuya is someone who genuinely belives in Mori and follows his guidance. Chuuya and Dazai are such opposites that they even both reacted to their mentors in opposite ways. Chuuya someone mentored by Ozaki Koyo who despite all of her flaws sees her subordinates as human beings. She even eventually aids in Kyouka’s escape from the mafia once she realized she would be better off that way, and only tried to stop her from leaving because she believed Kyouka would hurt herself trying to escape to the light and failing the same way Koyo did in the past. 

Chuuya while he does show a lot of infleunce from Koyo, he does treat everyone underneath him as human beings, he takes care of those people like they were his own, at the same time takes the opposite path as her. Chuuya has never once tried to leave the mafia and is uninterested in it. Part of him even loathes Dazai for leaving the mafia because it’s a betrayal against loyalty, which is the most important quality for Chuuya. At the same time unlike Koyo who once tried to escape the mafia, Chuuya believes that he, Akutagawa, everyone elseare better off in the mafia. He accepts the mafia because it gives guidance to the blank stretch of void that is his own life.

Dazai on the other hand, who Mori chose due to their similarities, and tried to manipulate by giving him a purpose and meaning to his life (the exact thing that Chuuya lets himself become a tool in order to have), ends up also choosing the opposite path of his mentor. Mori claims that he became the head of the Port Mafia for the sake of the city. Dazai however, leaves the Port Mafia fo his own personal development, so he can become a better person. The mafia’s values of loyalty, or their roles as the watchers of the night and the controllers of the dark side of the city mean almost nothing to him. Dazai sees through Mori. He refused to let himself be shaped into the right hand that Mori wanted him to become. 

We also see a reversal of their situations. Dazai is now fighting to protect a small group of close allies in his organization, even though he manipulates them and orchestrates things in order to protect them. Chuuya is now practically Mori’s right hand man. To the point where he took over command of the mafia when Mori was put out of commission, and everyone accepted his temporary leadership. He took the place that Dazai was originally meant to occupy. 

So their rivalry may just originate from the fact that they’ve chosen to take such opposite paths in life, that each one of them think is the absolute wrong path. Dazai thinks Chuuya’s value of loyalty and trust is just something that gets him used. Chuua thinks Dazai doesn’t have any trust and loyalty inside of himself at all. 

Their ways of thinking are also opposites. Dazai meticulously reads and analyzes everybody else around him, but he’s very untrusting of himself and lacks self reflection. Chuuya’s style of decision making and deduction requires him to trust in his own gut instinct and follow that through. Chuuya is someone very much aware of what his own values are, and what his thoughts ar, and follows those. 

Chuuya seeks himself. Dazai denies himself. 

The most frustrating part of all probably to each of them is that they do not want to acknowledge each other, they do not want to see the other as a human being. 

Part of Dazai’s conflict regarding Chuuya is probably jealousy. Chuuya despite being you know, pat god void monster whatever, is just a lot more normal than Dazai. He got along with other teenagers his own age. He shows no interest in death or dying. He acts like a normal teenager, bratty, rude, obsessed with looking cool. He is able to be normal in ways that Dazai isn’t, and therefore he is more qualified as a human being. 

Whereas Dazai acts in a way that Chuuya is afraid of. Chuuya fears his own inhumanity, that his body does not really belong to him and he’s merely just possessing it. He fears that he’s empty on the inside and the way Dazai acts to him is how he assumes an empty person like him would act if he were not trying his best to belong among other human beings. 

That is why both of them actively seek to dehumanize each other. Chuuya just wants to see Dazai as a suicide maniac who wants to kill himself for no reason. It’s easier to see him as someone who just wants to die rather than understanding his motivations for why. 

However, against his wishes Chuuya ends up coming to understand Dazai. Once he understands that Dazai is a person with his own motivations, it’s impossible to look away from him the way he previously did. 

The same for Dazai, he wanted to reduce Chuua to being a dog. He wanted to deny Chuuya his own humanity, and make it easier for him to control. However, in the end Chuuya always refuses to be his dog. Chuuya is someone who asserts his own humanity to Dazai at every step of the way in a way that Dazai cannot deny. He won’t let Dazai see him as anything other than a human being. While older Dazai may be more mature and does not want to completely control other people the same way fifteen year old Dazai did, the fact that Chuuya is so undeniably his own person in a way that Dazai struggles with seeing other people as people is probably still something that irks him. 

In the end, Chuuya and Dazai despise each other because they understand each other. They hate each other because they can’t hate each other. They see themselves as inhuman monsters, but they see the others weaknesses so well that the other is undeniably human in their eyes. 

Dazai and Chuuya are both people trying to find meaning to their existence as human beings, and trying to know themselves. However, as Rimbaud already pointed out both of their desires are equally futile because there was no meaning in the first place. Nobody finds meaning in their existence. Everyone, all creatures, live without knowing who they truly are the same way Chuuya and Dazai do. 

Rather than trying to find meaning in their own existence that they are never going to find, what both of them need to do is find acceptance of that fact. They are human beings, precisely because the two of them are such human failures. 

[hollenka99]

A Deal Gone Wrong

Summary: Jackie’s betrayed the others for the sake of bringing Henrik home safely. The aftermath doesn’t go as he expected.

Warnings: Abuse, Anti generally being an asshole

Jackie looking into ways to get Anti's attention quickly delivers results. He is always watching, after all. It shouldn't have surprised him how easy it was to find himself in the demon's presence. It's been exactly 9 months since Henrik was taken. Jackie promised himself he wouldn't allow the doctor to stay captive for as long as he did. It was getting uncomfortably close now. Times were getting desperate. And well, he wholly agreed with what they said about occasions such as these. His reckless plan works. Jackie's too pleased about winning this victory, too relieved to be granted a few days of freedom before delivering on his side of the bargain. He turns a blind eye to how easy it is. At least he's smart enough to write the specifics on paper. Not like he expected Anti to whip out a pen and sign a 'contract'. If you could call it that. He assumes Anti's amusement was due to the ridiculousness of it. Still, anything to feel he has any sway on the glitch. If Anti says there'll be a swap, Jackie can only hope he keeps his word. Henrik comes home, as promised. The first hour or two following his return are the most eventful. Chase and Marvin can't hug their friend soon enough. Jackie bursts into tears against the doctor's chest. The ten days Anti had granted him disappear quicker than he'd like. There is less stress in the air. It doesn't feel like they are scrabbling for peace or normality quite as much. Marvin's plants are beginning to display an vast improvement in vitality. There is also the relief they have another (more competent) doctor assisting in Jack's care. Jackie is happy knowing he's played a part in bringing this about. It's not all great. Chase won't stop joking that they only need to wake Jack up so things can go back to how they were. He knows life will never revert back to summer 2016 standards. Chase didn't even exist until a year ago. Henrik keeps trying to inspect Jackie's injuries. What is he expecting to find? His legs are barely functional, the scars of the living autopsy are still there and Jackie doubts he's regained much weight, if at all. Sneaking in a visit to Jack's bedside only resurfaces the same feelings of guilt he's experienced this week. He's betraying their trust. For a good reason, he reminds himself. For a good reason. Now here they were, standing feet from each other once more. He's mulled over whether to leave a goodbye note. He decided against it. It would only cause them more heartache to know he went willingly. And Henrik, oh he'd have to live with the knowledge this was for him. Jackie doesn't want that. It's made worse by the prediction he won't be himself the next time they see him. He's made his choice. There's no backing out now. "Well, here I am. You upheld your end so... I guess I'll have to do the same." The demon greets him with a malicious smirk. "That's nice to hear. But you don't have what I want." "What are you talking about? You said you'd let Henrik come home if I gave myself up. We agreed on a swap, myself for Schneep." As if to prove his point, Jackie fishes out the note. He forcefully shows it to Anti. The demon inspects it before promptly ripping it until nothing remains but mere shreds. "You weren't listening. I never said I'd take you. You just assumed. Desperate to come back to me, puppet?" "I am not a puppet." "Aren't you? What are the five largest cities in Ireland?" "Dublin, Cork, Limerick, Galway, Waterford." Caught off guard, he deadpans the list without resistance. "Returning to me reminds you of..?" "The Temporary Discharge for Ill Health Act of 1913, better known as the Cat and Mouse Act." No, don't smile like that. Don't be proud of his ability to answer questions. It's only a few stray facts he can recite. He is Jackie. Remember that. He's not a puppet. Not yet. Maybe it will be easier to give in once he's back to that lightless room. He can fight for a week or two save face then- he's getting ahead of himself. But his corruption hasn't transpired quite yet. "Alright, I can spout random trivia. So what?" "What are the physiological symptoms of fear?" "Hyperventilation, increased heart rate, increased muscle tension, sweating, hyperglycemia and disruption to the digestive system, among others." Jackie lists the symptoms on his fingers. He knew this from his own experience. It had absolutely nothing to do with Biology lessons or the independent research he felt was necessary to complete. "Good. What should your resting heart rate be?" "I'm physically over the age of ten so... somewhere between 60 and 100 beats per minute." "Oh really? That's very interesting to know. I just counted 87." It's only now that Jackie gains awareness of Anti's fingers pressing slightly too harshly against the top of his neck. He flinches as he swats it away. "I told you to stop. And that's still in the range, you dick." "It's very unhealthy to have it so high. Tell me why you're not normal." "I'm a character?" "That doesn't matter." "I'm younger than everyone else?" "No. Try again." Anti growls, impatience growing. "Oh. I exercise frequently which means I-" His glare is aimed at Anti. Well done, you've making him realise his mistake. The glitch must be so proud of himself. Why is Jackie even answering of his own free will? "Which means I should be closer to 60 beats per minute." "Exactly." "Look, it doesn't matter. I made the mistake of dealing with you. Increased heart rate is also a symptom of stress." "That's no way to speak to the one who took the liberty of educating you." That tone. Oh God, it was that exact tone. Please don't let him have a needle and thread handy. He's sorry. He won't misbehave again, he swears. "Sorry, sir." Anti still glowers for a moment. "I see you finally remembered your manners." "Listen, I can't walk. So no more escape attempts. You won't have to worry about that." "That didn't excuse you from lessons, now did it?" "No, exactly, so we can still do that." "Yet you still managed to leave me." How is Jackie meant to respond to that? "I- Well, you were distracted, sir. I was... I was being resourceful. That's a useful trait, right?" Anti's laughter is broken. It morphs into an amalgamation of giggles, cackles and snickers. He scrutinises Jackie once more before turning away. His gaze is directed to the powerlines surrounding the field. Hang on, he can't just leave! God, this culminating panic was so stupid. No matter how much he tries to squash it, the anxiety grows. Within seconds, he can't stop himself from blurting it out. "Wait, don't go!" This attracts the glitch's attention. He abruptly ceases the increase in fragmentation. The air doesn't feel quite as energised. Anti's head whips around. He's beaming as he steps towards Jackie, closing the distance. "You're as pathetic as ever. Perhaps I should take you with me." Anti muses. "That way you can look my new puppet in the eyes and tell him how you betrayed his trust." "I didn't do anything." Don't say that. Please. Just because it's true doesn't mean he wants to be reminded. "What is one of the first lessons I taught you?" "Don't- Don't talk back?" It's a frown now. "You don't sound convinced." "Don't talk back." He answers firmly. "That's better." Anti gives him a gentle smile. It is swiftly followed by a shove that is nowhere near as gentle. "I could leave you in Tasmania and make you swim all the way home. No cheating this time either. I will personally throw you overboard into the Indian Ocean if I see you trying to stowaway again. I'm sure you don't want that." The glitch crouches down. His hand reaches out towards Jackie's head. The teenager flinches. Anti glides his hand through his hair. Don't relax into it. You have better sources of human contact. This subtle resistance seems to irritate the demon as his hair is yanked into position. Jackie has no choice but to look him in the eyes. "I've had my eye on him for months. Now you've given me an excuse to have him all to myself." The grin falls into a pout. The grip loosens too. "But don't worry! We can be together again one day. I know how lonely you've been without me." How long has Anti's eye had that green glint to it? He tsks in sympathy. The hair stroking resumes. "All those bad habits. Give me some time and you won't have to be lonely again. Can you do that?" No. Fuck off. No way is he going to... going to... He will wait for his master, of course he will. "Yes, sir." Anti rises to his feet. "Good boy. Now, why don't you run home? I have better things to be doing than stand here proving you can't deceive yourself." Jackie doesn't need any more incentives. Racing isn't a pace he is able to maintain anymore. Nevertheless, he travels home as rapidly as his body will allow him. He hadn't brought his keys. In his defense, he believed he wouldn't be coming back. Not to mention he was not about to risk Anti gaining unauthorised access to the egos' home. He bangs on the door like he had eight months ago. They're all clearly beside themselves. No words are spoken before Jackie is practically smothered by Marvin while simultaneously being berated for his disappearance. Where had he gone? Why didn't he think to give them a heads up before leaving? Did he not realise how worried they'd been? Also, had Chase said anything to him about staying out tonight? Jackie doesn't understand. What did Chase have to do with him sneaking out? If the guy had gone to drop off a forgotten toy, that wasn't suspicious. Neither was the prospect of traffic delaying him or Chase secretly heading to a pub. Come on, this was Chase they were talking about. There must be a perfectly reasonable- What about a hallway? Why's that significant? Oh. Oh no.

[pilawforhire]

@bookofaion asked:

(( bro, I miss your HCs, give me something about Law & how he views the past, what are his big regrets, what are things he reflects on most? besides Corazon's death, what's something he would like to change? does he believe 'everything happens for a reason' or nah? ))

//Hey, Ane! Thank you so much for the ask. It really got me thinking, and I haven’t been thinking about such deeper topics in a long time. I don’t think I could express my thoughts well in this, so please excuse the rambling, if things don’t make sense, and the very disorganised everything.

Reflections:

“Death surrounds us. If there’s one thing you can count on in life, it’s the infallible, all-embracing hand of death, and the permanence and irreversibility of its fatal touch. Death is an old friend of mine, but also a teacher, a companion: lifelong, eternal.”

Given the death he’s witnessed, death lurking in every corner one turns, the ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers (a reminder, now), I think death and mortality would feature commonly in his reflections – not with pessimism, not necessarily with despair, but as a stimulus to live; reflecting on death in order to reflect on life, its impermanence (in the scope of an individual’s), its shortness of nature, ever-changing.

For instance, thoughts on: why death is generally feared, the lessons death has taught him, how he should like to die (by his own hand, ideally within his control, but not alone), what a good death would be like (facing death with courage, dying for a worthy cause; what is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying), when is it time to let go, and most importantly, why he should not die yet. Especially in his adolescence and/or young adulthood, owing to the losses he survived, and their ripples of anguish, it would’ve been crucial to ask, over and over, why he should live on – and how. How should he live. With strength, courage, dignity – exactly how he envisions he would die.

Of course, there’d also be reflections on the bigger decisions he’s made in life (with regards to his goals, the crew, etc.); reflections on his past (with a yearning, and a smidgen of loneliness), on how far he’s come (with incredulity; made it, after all), on his crew and Bepo’s friendship (with gratitude, appreciation); reflections on those he failed to save (I kind of headcanon that throughout his travels, in order to gain the experience as a doctor/surgeon, he would’ve helped civilians, either those who can’t afford to be treated in hospitals, or if he encounters someone who’s ill/hurt, or in clinics in smaller towns – granted, he could practise on corpses, but I doubt he’d turn down someone who needed help if it was within his means to treat them (‘bad’ guys aside; circumstances dependent); at least once he’d have failed to save a child, and the experience would’ve been humbling).

More in his younger years, he’d likely have reflected on numerous what-if scenarios, if Corazon had survived, etc.

How he views his past:

Over time, he’d have crawled along the path towards acceptance of the people he’s lost, though the sorrow is an undying presence (and would’ve, more so in the past, manifested as anger or irritation). Yet, on the path to acceptance, it’d still be difficult to fully let go of the guilt or self-blame, considering they spur him towards his goal, and his goal of fulfilling his legacy, taking down Joker, is everything that keeps him moving forwards.

I think, for the longest time, he viewed his past with regret; when he thought of the past, he thought only of everything he lost. But I’d like to think that later along his journey, although the past is still something he cannot talk openly about, without fear of it all spilling out in an overwhelming way, he’s able to reflect on the good times as well, with gratitude. He had a good, loving family; Corazon had given him hope, and his last dying breath. Yes, they were all taken from him too soon, but there were some fonder memories, bittersweet to relive.

Eventually, he wouldn’t think of his past as a burden or something that weighs him down, but more a series of events that has strengthened and taught him a number of things: courage to scrabble his way through and drag his leaden limbs back from the pitch darkness not once but time and time again, to embrace the suffering (albeit, possibly to an unhealthy extent; without suffering, how could he appreciate pleasures), the necessity of being prepared, that everyone dies (because life comes at a price) (but that death makes life meaningful; death gives us incentive to live), to appreciate the smaller things: his crew (they are his lifeboat), the sunrise, (every breath, every pain) – still, he was willing to give it all up for his goal.

Does he believe that everything happens for a reason?

I don’t think he’d ever be able to accept that his family’s and Corazon’s deaths happened for a reason, and he’d be of the opinion that reasons or meaning are just things humans attribute to circumstances out of their control in order to make sense of things. Nothing could explain or justify their deaths. Did they all really have to die so he would learn how to cope with grief and loss, and understand what suffering was like? In his teens, he would’ve brooded about the unfairness of life taking everything from him not once but twice, though eventually he’d have tried to use his past to empower himself instead, believing that he’d survived all that, he could survive anything – though this leads to him developing a belief in his invincibility (thus the necessity later on to remind himself of his mortality), by pushing himself always to the limits, braving harsh weather/conditions, disregarding colds or ailments.

Big regrets:

Aside from accidentally running to Vergo and disclosing Corazon’s undercover identity – I’d think he’d regret more of his states of being in the past: ignorant, inadequate, helpless, and he’s extra hard on himself in attempts to avoid stumbling into such scenarios again. On some level, he’d understand certain circumstances are out of his control – when he brought Vergo that document, he’d decided it was the best course of action to take – yet he’d strive to be as prepared as possible; can’t risk complacency or carelessness.

On the whole, in his adulthood, I don’t think he’d have big regrets. He’d be of the firm belief this is the path he’s meant to take. (And if he does have regrets about decisions made in battle or involving their voyage, those would be regrets he reflects on to learn from.)

As Viktor Frankl said: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way” – albeit, for Law, the path he chose was one rooted in feelings of guilt and despair.

Still, even after that talk with Sengoku post-Dressrosa, even after hearing the words he’d subconsciously been desiring to hear someone say to him all the years, that he was under no obligations, that Corazon saved him not just because of the ‘D’ in his name (paraphrasing the exact words because I don’t remember), if Law were able to return to the past and choose a different path, 101 out of 101 times, he would not have chosen differently. Even if taking out Doffy did not alleviate the sense of emptiness, that goal carried him 13 years, longer than any other would’ve (he thinks).

“He gave me life; he gave me a reason to live. I made a choice of my own free-will. Who’s to say any other path or choice would’ve resulted in a ‘better’ outcome? Would I have been better off not dedicating my life to pursuing Joker? No, I’d have been worse off.”

Besides, I think he may not be able to picture himself leading an ordinary, civilian life. It would be a generally safer, more stable and secure way of living, but at the risk of succumbing to ennui? He’d crave the heart-pounding adrenaline from fights, the thrills of walking a fine line between life and death (mocking, challenging, taunting death). (Though he doesn’t take unnecessary risks, especially since assuming his responsibilities as a captain.)

Besides Corazon's death, what's something he would like to change?

In all honesty, while he would’ve, in the past, wished he could’ve gone back in time and acted differently to save Corazon’s life, in the present, at 26, I think he’d have accepted Corazon as dead for over a decade, that he wouldn’t feel strongly about changing that. Not that he doesn’t wish he could speak to or see Corazon one last time, but he’s, over time, come to accept that such wishful thinking is completely pointless. Furthermore, I think he’d have gotten used to…mourning/missing him. Having him back would be undeserving. If Corazon is back, what excuse would he have to explain his self-destructiveness – it would mean that he ought to be absolved from the guilt (but he’s not ready to let that go). It would mean that he could maybe even be happy, and that is a scary thought. ‘Happiness’: terrifying, quite so very something he’s unaccustomed to letting himself experience. Although he’s reflected on death, mortality, it would still be nagging him in the back of his mind that one day he’d have to mourn Corazon again.

As for something else he’d like to change, his hirsuteness, or lack thereof. (In all seriousness, I haven’t thought of a good answer, sorry.) I think he may aim more for inner change first – forever wanting to a better self than who he was the day before. By better, I don’t necessarily mean doing ‘good’ but…more knowledgeable, tougher, experienced. To aim to stand ready and confident to take without flinching whatever life throws at him.

Because he will persevere. Granted, his resolve wavers from time to time, being that he is only human; there are weaker and lower moments and phases, but he persists because through and through, Law is a rebel. Guiltily, I would like to think he would rebel against the ocean of greyness that threatens to engulf.

He will never surrender. He’ll die fighting, like Corazon did.

And with a smile.

Probably giving the finger too.

[quakerjoe]

In the end, not even the Progressive Bernie Base showing up for Hillary in larger numbers than her own supporters did for Obama in 2008, could prevent the inevitable. A massively flawed candidate who failed to electrify the Democratic base and make the case to Rust Belt voters- why she is the better option than the Populist candidate spraying out anti-trade rhetoric.

Blame whatever you want. The blame rests squarely on all of us. But there is so many lessons to learn from the 2016 Primary and General Election. Populism and Progressive policy became the central topic. Healthcare is a right. The ultra-rich are KING in America, and they must be reigned in. Primary process should be more fair. Flowery platitudes aren’t enough to generate excitement for the poor to turn out, etc.

Literally ZERO of these lessons were learned. Even in the face of an ACTUAL Corona-virus pandemic, with over 30 million unemployed, more and more uninsured at the time of writing this- the Democratic party has done nearly nothing to fix the problems from 2016. Actually, in all my shock- they’ve made them worse. The Democratic party pulled every string it could. Bent over backwards to not only stop Bernie Sanders, but stifle Progressives and our policy agenda. All in an orchestration to crown their nominee just years after a 2016 lawsuit said the DNC can meddle how ever they like in their own “Democratic process”. All to push a man who did next to no campaigning in any states past South Carolina. A man who didn’t actually work for your vote, but instead- coasted on “Hope and Change” establishment nostalgia, for when times weren’t so chaotic.

So for pragmatism sake, let’s push all that aside for just one moment. We can debate all day about how “fair” Joe Biden’s path to the Democratic Nomination has been. But let’s view Biden on his own merits for his candidacy’s sake. What’s the incentive for Progressives to vote for Joe? Well- unless you’re sticking to the concept of the very first paragraph of this article, the answer is: There isn’t one.

If Hillary Clinton were a flawed candidate, Biden may just be the worst nominee in history. A long history of terrible behavior including coddling racists, racist behavior, repeated threats at slashing the safety net, warmongering for a devastating Iraq war that’s helped kill endless innocent civilians all based on a lie, the nomination of Justice Thomas and controversial treatment of Anita hill, the Obama administration’s failure to even pass a Public Option with a Super Majority government, while pushing a healthcare plan that was little more than barely a small step in the right direction.

Now- Biden stands as the presumptive Democratic Nominee, and with a sizable Progressive Bernie Base up for grabs, what has Joe Biden done to earn our vote?

Answer: Nothing. Well, at least nothing significant.

Three items come immediately to mind on what Joe Biden is doing to “reach left”.

1: Joe wants to lower the Medicare age to 60. By comparison, Hillary Clinton wanted to lower it to as low as 50.

2: Joe Biden wants to eliminate student debt for those making under $125K. By comparison, Bernie Sanders wanted to eliminate it universally.

3: Nebulously- Joe Biden and Bernie Sanders have created “working groups” on various policy issues focusing on education, criminal justice, climate change, immigration, the economy, and health care policy. As of yet, nothing has come of these “groups” on policy.

As the Primary was coming to a close, I as a Progressive- was completely open to Joe moving (not reaching) left on policy positions.

Overwhelmingly, if you ask Sanders supporters what they care about most, it’s Policy.

What will you do for the underprivileged working class people of America?

What will you do for my children and grand children facing a Climate Change future?

What will you do for your Mass Incarceration mess, ending the drug war, legalizing Marijuana, and freeing non-violent drug offenders?

What will you do for the upwards of 45K people who die each year because health care is not affordable?

The 67% of American bankruptcies being due to health care costs?

BUT. Sanders supporters also believe in principle. Consistency. History. Fighting for change. Decency. Human rights. We’re also majority young people (a group Joe Biden did not do well with). Perhaps these things could be talked out. But now there’s a bigger elephant in the room. One that establishment Democrats and Joe’s supporters are ignoring.

Joe Biden was credibly accused of rape.

Democrats spent months yelling about “Believing Women” during the Kavanaugh Confirmation hearings. Rightfully fighting for Christine Blasey Ford’s story to be heard- knowing it would be a fruitless task at the hands of a twisted Senate Republican majority. Now, establishment Democrats are making the media rounds with Biden campaign talking points with denials and every attempt to downplay Tara Reade as not a credible accuser, even as several corroborations of her story have surfaced, 1 of which was an archive video of who Tara Reade alleges is her mother discussing the issue with Larry King on CNN in 1993. Meanwhile, Joe Biden’s campaign has it’s surrogates and supporters on news networks shielding Biden. Nancy Pelosi downplays the accusations, Kirsten Gillibrand (who helped cancel Al Franken) is downplaying the accusations. Alyssa Milano, prominent #MeToo voice, who made a performative appearance at the Brett Kavanagh hearings, now wants to “change the rules” on the movement in favor of a sort of ‘Due Process’- a process that many perpetrators cancelled by #MeToo never got, in favor of protecting Joe Biden.

What this means to me is that Democrats think it’s perfectly fine to be selective on who and who doesn’t deserve to be heard and taken seriously, based on who’s on your team. As if it should be that easy to just shed your principles like Snake skin, hypocritically protecting one predator, while gunning for another that doesn’t fit with you politically.

In 2016, I was perfectly fine voting for the “lesser evil”. Now that the party has loudly stated that not only does my values, principles, and policy demands for the poor and sick of America, not matter- I should fall in line with a candidate that has helped endless innocent people die overseas with America’s imperial military reach, helped endless people die at home because they cant afford a doctor, said that he has “no empathy” for young people- the same young people that have to live and suffer under the conditions of Climate Change while he’s dead and gone, sexually assaulted and violated multiple women, said that nothing will fundamentally change for the same rich people who are now gaining BILLIONS under pandemic conditions while their workers get sicker, if they’re even employed at all.

Moderate establishment Democrats and voters tell me that Trump is the number one threat. That we need to “vote blue no matter who”. Just how “blue” is Joe biden? Just how dissimilar is Joe Biden and his supporters from Trump and his following? For all of the cries of the “angry Bernie Bros” online, I see countless accosting and abusive discourse examples from Biden supporters calling any dissenters “Russian Bots”, or “MAGA Hats”. Being told that I’m somehow a Trump voter by default, for not immediately supporting Biden. All this when all I’ve ever seen from “the Bernie Bros” is aggressively holding smear artists to facts and truth in a thick environment of misrepresentation of Bernie Sanders and his platform.

So- Why shouldn’t Progressives vote for Joe Biden?

This Democratic party doesn’t give a damn about you. Nor does it care about Progressive policy. The party and its supporters spend all this time, smearing Sanders and his base as “Not democrats”, angry “socialists who want free stuff”, “How are you gonna PAY for it?!” etc etc, all while claiming to support SOME form of our policy, and then dropping it the second it doesn’t feel politically advantageous. This party threw everything it could into stopping YOU. With tactics like voter suppression, using a silly app suspiciously funded and supported by shady actors in Iowa, taking WEEKS to give final results, running Super PACs against Bernie and our movement, fear-mongering about Bernie when he did win states, gas lighting the public on “elect-ability”, using a literal pandemic against Bernie to guilt him into dropping out while attempting to blame him for continued spread of COVID-19, while they sent voters to the polls and we didn’t.

And after zero policy concessions, zero good will, repeated demands we fall in line after more than a year of being slammed and disrespected, showing up for Hillary Clinton and then being blamed for her loss anyway, which is inevitable again if Joe loses? Are we just going to keep allowing that? Just how long do we have to hold our noses, voting for Moderate do-nothing lite Republicans who would sooner see you die, than provide you affordable and universal healthcare, because a Billionaire would stand to lose money. Even NOW, during a Pandemic this party has done next to NOTHING to secure the livelihoods of American citizens, as more and more die, get furloughed, and cant pay their bills. All while Trump and Republicans take credit for pitching more common sense plans (even though they want to send us all back to work/school to feed the machine).

This- is the “resistance” party? THIS is the best we can do? Performative rage against a fascist clown while propping up an accused rapist warmongering corporatist with cognitive decline and previous racist tendencies? THIS is what the party keeps telling us we better support or be shamed as somehow supporting the “bad guy”?

Listen, #NotMeUs- this will never stop. This party will NEVER stop using us as a prop for our ideas and passion, then throwing us under the bus when they think they no longer need us. They cannot continue to be allowed to drag us further to the right with guilt trips and shaming. They will NEVER take you seriously unto you take serious action. We’ve been preaching about “action” this whole campaign. Why should that “action” stop in the ballot box? Have some foresight for just a moment and envision how this plays out in future elections, unless you stand up and make them WORK for your vote.

I, for one will not vote for Joe Biden. But I wont shame you for your vote, no matter who it’s for. Why? Because the party did a terrible job at earning -your- vote. I’d maybe only criticize you if you don’t show up at all. There’s so many down-ballot candidate who need support. Even if you leave the President box unchecked, at least show up for the other races.

But consider: There are other options that have been stifled for way too long. Perhaps its time we give them a shot, no? Green Party is running Howie Hawkins and a platform that is much closer to our principles that Biden would ever try for. Justin Amash just jumped into the race if you’re a little more on the Libertarian side. Jesse Ventura is also discovering running on the Green ticket as well. Just imagine Jesse ‘The Body’ Ventura on the debate stage with Donald Trump? Popcorn for DAYS.

In order for us to be taken seriously, we must prove that we’re capable of holding the party accountable. Not voting for them is the ultimate accountability, and you get to keep your principles intact.

Now- to the ultimate argument you’d inevitably get: “You would be helping Donald Trump secure 4 more years”.

My response? You don’t have to bare the blame for that. You wont be at fault for Joe Biden losing any more than those who chose not to vote at all. It’s on the party to earn these votes. That’s how elections work. If you hate the candidate and don’t feel good about them as a person, why is it your responsibility to put them in office? To me- one of the most personal things a person has, is their vote. Not their dollars, or their Tweets. It’s checking a box for the person YOU chose to represent you. If that person doesn’t believe in hardly anything you personally believe in- why is it that they deserve your vote, again? How is it that they’re are somehow entitled to that vote? They don’t, and they aren’t. I’m looking at you too, Republicans.

In closing…

Progressives, I’m sorry to break it to you but- Medicare For All is not on the ballot. Taxing the rich is not on the ballot. Ending corruption and crooked politicians is not on the ballot.

But- ending a terrible two-party system IS on the ballot. Taking your personal vote back, IS on the ballot. In my opinion- the only wasted vote, is the one you were demanded in giving up to what you don’t believe in.

-LZ

https://medium.com/@legacyzero/why-sanders-supporters-should-not-vote-for-joe-biden-a9146bee189b

[lydiawoodie]

Wealthy Affiliate Review My Advice: Dont Buy

I was issued an affiliate link for Wealthy Affiliate because they automatically issue you one upon enrollment. However, it’s not listed on this article, because I don’t recommend Wealthy Affiliate. Of course, you are your own master, and you’re free to enroll away, but I only want to promote products I believe in, so there’s no link here from me!

There’s nothing revolutionary or informative in Wealthy Affiilate. I’m not mad that I signed up, as I only spent $19 and I did get a little value. The videos are well-made, and I don’t feel like it’s a scam. There’s just a bunch of filler and common sense rolled into this program. If you’re a complete newbie, you may find the material helpful, but there are better information sources out there than Wealthy Affiliate.

[As a note: I will add my recommendation for a similar program here when I find a good one.]

What is Wealthy Affiliate?

Wealthy Affiliate is a training program run by Greg Kononenko. I follow him on YouTube under his alias, Caffeinated Blogger, and in July 2020 I decided to sign up for Wealthy Affiliate and give it a try. The membership was $19 for the first month, with a reoccurring charge of $49/month (or $495 for the year) if I wished to continue.

Wealthy Affiliate is basically boot camp for building a niche website. There are several video tutorials broken down into bite-sized lessons showing a few basics of WordPress, SEO, and affiliate marketing. There are explanations about how to build your webpage, how to grow your site, and how to monetize it. There are also a variety of tools for content, including access to a royalty-free photograph database and a keyword search tool (Jaaxy Lite). However, the explanations about building, growing, and monetizing your site are not very in-depth. Any Google or YouTube search will get you better info. And royalty-free images are easy to find. Wealthy Affiliate just pulls them from three free sites. I’m also skeptical about the value of keyword search tools.

Is Wealthy Affiliate Worth It?

Building niche websites isn’t particularly complicated, and I wouldn’t say that I learned a whole lot of new information from Wealthy Affiliate. And I also wouldn’t say that the the program’s information on building a niche website is even close to comprehensive. It’s a starting point. That’s it.

The nicest thing I have to say about Wealthy Affiliate is that they’ve done a good job at building a forum and a community of others who are attempting to build a niche site. It can be good to have accountability partners if you find that sort-of thing helpful. I’m not into social media. I also prefer lectures to group discussions, so the forums were not attractive to me personally.

When I googled other people’s reviews of Wealthy Affiliate, it led me to believe that Greg Kononenko purchased this program from someone else. This review lists Carson Lim and Kyle Louadon as the owners, and there was a lot of talk about how dated the program is.

I wouldn’t say that Wealthy Affiliate is dated, as much as it’s just completely basic. The program teaches the nuts and bolts of building a niche website. Choose niche, buy domain, post content. I don’t think a course is necessary for this. And there were helpful hints about WordPress plugins to add, but the material was actually in a couple different places and it was far from comprehensive.

Who Should Use Wealthy Affiliate?

If I had a loved one who wanted some hand holding while building a site, I would write them a quick list of how to set up a blog. If I didn’t like them very much, I guess that I would recommend Wealthy Affiliate.

Wealthy Affiliate is very basic. There are ten lessons per category and at the end of each lesson is a checklist. The system provides ample opportunity for help from others on the forum if you’re nervous about website creation, but I didn’t find a whole lot of cutting edge information in this course. It was okay for webpage set up, but the tricks on Greg’s YouTube channel don’t show up in Wealthy Affiliate.

The premise of Wealthy Affiliate is to put up a quality website, optimize the backend for SEO, add blog posts three times per week, and after three months you’ll start seeing results. After one year, you’ll like the results. And after five years, you’ll be crushing it. It is a very long game, and this is SEO at it’s most basic. It’s safe and should be Google update-proof. If you don’t have any experience in these elements, Wealthy Affiliate could potentially be helpful for you.

Thoughts on Solo Build It! (SBI!), a Wealthy Affiliate Competitor

Wealthy Affiliate reminded me of a program I tried over a decade ago, called Site Build It! I Googled to see if they were still around, and saw they’ve changed their name to Solo Build It! They also have a second product called SBI! for WP — Solo Build It! for WordPress. Admittedly, I haven’t tried SBI! for more than a decade, but I’m guessing the premise hasn’t changed. It’s a strategy identical to Wealthy Affiliate’s — niche website creation and a long-range plan for building SEO and site authority.

What I did not like about SBI! was that they wanted me to host my site with them indefinitely. What I saw in 2008 were the outdated websites they were teaching people to create. Their current website says they’ve been around for over 20 years, which makes sense in hindsight. In 2008 they were teaching me how to build a website meant for 2002. However, it looks like they’ve adjusted to the times with their new product, SBI! for WP. I did not order this product, but I’m guessing it‘s be very similar to Wealthy Affiliate and allows you to build your site and leave the platform, as WordPress can be hosted anywhere.

SBI!’s price point begins close to WA’s starting price point at $19.99 per month. However, it looks like a cheaper option year after year if you opt to stay with them. It’s $199 for the first year and $299 for each additional year. Wealthy Affiliate is priced at $495 per year, but they offer incentives to knock 50% off of this price, so I’m guessing they’re competitive. Again, I haven’t tried SBI! in over a decade, which is a lifetime ago in Internet years. When I tried previously, I didn’t fully commit and attempt to build a site in their platform. Instead, I consumed their video content and canceled after my trial ended. But comparing what I saw in SBI! then to what I see in WA now, I’d recommend Wealthy Affiliate if I had to choose one.

Wealthy Affiliate at least teaches you how to build a site with them then move it to your own domain. SBI! taught me how to build a site with them and then rely on them for hosting indefinitely. Building your site in someone else’s platform — Wealthy Affiliate or SBI! — is a waste of time. It adds a layer of dependency that doesn’t need to be there. WordPress is easy and initiative. You can figure it out if you just start trying.

Final Thoughts on Wealthy Affiliate

My final thought is a NO! Google a YouTube video about creating a WordPress blog in Elementor. Spend a couple hours watching and applying your knowledge. You’ll learn more from this than you’d learn in Wealthy Affiliate.

from https://bunnybanks.com/wealthy-affiliate-review-my-advice-dont-buy/

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