#complaining about her excessive use of em dashes

[prettypinkbubbless]

Highlights from my drudge through the first Twilight book this summer.

[dilkirani]

I’d marry you again (& again)

Five times FitzSimmons get married and the one time it sticks.

thanks to @itsavolcano​ for the beta and @grapehyasynth​ for the brainstorming help!! (shoutout to her for the Vegas section!)

Read at AO3! or below:

++

i.

The forecast predicts rain, just as Fitz had insisted it would, but Jemma silences him with an arched eyebrow before he can say anything. “It doesn’t count as a curse if we chose to have an outdoor wedding in Scotland and it rains, Fitz. This was a statistical likelihood.”  

“I said that one time,” he grouses, but underneath his words are only affection and happiness.

Jemma walks over and sits on his lap, curling into him. “I need to get ready,” she murmurs, and he shakes his head, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. She laughs, but doesn’t actually make an effort to leave.

Caught in a perpetual cycle of saving the world left little time for wedding planning, so his mother and Jemma’s parents had taken over. When they arrived in Glasgow, they’d found themselves relegated to following everyone else’s orders. It’s not necessarily the wedding they would have chosen, but he can’t be anything but extraordinarily grateful to be here. If Jemma’s dress is a bit frillier than she would have liked, the decor more excessive than necessary, the bouquets a little gaudy, neither of them even think to complain. They know more than most that reaching this point was never guaranteed.

Still, he relishes the momentary quiet of the morning, the stolen minutes he’s allowed to spend with Jemma, and he can’t help wishing it could stay this way, just the two of them, for awhile longer.

“I love you so much,” she sighs, her breath feathering across his neck. He dips his head to kiss her in response, and it’s slow and reverent in a way they are so rarely allowed to be.

They reluctantly disentangle when Daisy knocks seconds later, having been commanded to retrieve Jemma.

“I’ll see you soon,” Jemma promises, and he holds her words deep inside because it’s the only way he can let her go.

++

He’d wanted them to write their own vows—the only part of the wedding they had any real control over—and he’d spent hours thinking of what to say, how to explain what this day meant. But when he’s looking at Jemma in front of him, her wedding ring in the palm of his hand, nothing he’s planned is good enough.

“Jemma,” he says, and her name, the most important word in his vocabulary, is enough to fill his eyes with tears. “I want you to know I...I’ve realized something. The universe can’t stop us. Because we have crossed—” he pauses, seeing Jemma’s eyes very subtly widen, and remembers a significant percentage of the audience, including his mother and her parents, knows nothing of the more classified aspects of their relationship milestones. “—continents,” he finishes. He bites his lip and gently squeezes her fingers. He’s not fully aware of where the words are coming from, only that they’re bubbling out and he’s desperate for her to understand what he’s trying to say.

“We’ve crossed continents, we survived Professor Vaughn’s classes and Sci-Ops and fieldwork we weren’t cleared for, together. And a love like that, that is stronger than any curse.” Somewhere in his periphery, he can hear laughter from the gathered crowd. They will think he’s making a joke or being dramatic, but Jemma smiles tremulously and he knows she’s deciphering what he’s really promising her.

“You and I, we are unstoppable together, and I don’t want to live another day without you. So, Jemma Simmons, I vow to be by your side the whole damn time. I vow to love and cherish you forever.”

He slips the ring onto her finger and she steals a kiss before he can move away. He smiles against her lips and ignores Daisy’s half-hearted slap to his shoulder.

“Leopold James Fitz,” Jemma says, beaming widely at him, “if I had waited for you to propose, we’d never have gotten here.”

“Hey—” he starts to protest, but she laughs and covers his mouth with her hand.

“I’m tired of not being married to you, and I can’t wait to start this part of our lives together. I vow to always be with you, no matter what. You’re my person, and I will love and cherish you forever.” She pulls at the lapel of his jacket, tugging him closer. “So marry me, Fitz.”

He grins, barely waiting for her to slide the ring on to his finger before capturing her mouth in another kiss. “Absolutely,” he whispers.

“I feel like there’s no point in me saying you may kiss now, so whatever,” Mack sighs. “But I’ll still pronounce you husband and wife.”

Fitz draws Jemma back to him amidst cheers, just as the skies open with surprising fury. There’s screaming and a mad dash for the reception hall, but he hardly registers the clamor.

“What’s a little rain when we’ve survived the bottom of the Atlantic?” he asks. Jemma wraps her arms around his neck and he lifts her, twirling her around. Her laughter echoes in his ears, louder than the downpour.

ii.

“It’s not like it really matters, I suppose,” Jemma says one night as they lie tangled together on the twin mattress in their bunk. “Ceremonies aren’t allowed, there aren’t any legal benefits, we’re already living together. We probably…” She stops, blinking back tears from a heartache he knows she’s only recently begun to feel. “We probably wouldn’t be approved for a child even if we put in a request. We’re not exactly popular with the Kree.”

Fitz turns to her and runs a finger along the curve of her face. “But it matters to you,” he says. He hadn’t realized until this moment that it did. He’s often found himself, when he isn’t thinking about everyone and everything they’ve lost or struggling with a time machine he doesn’t believe will actually work, daydreaming about the wedding they could have had. But Jemma has always been more pragmatic, and marriage on the Lighthouse means nothing at all.

“Isn’t that a silly thing to think about?” she asks, and the tremor in her voice causes splinters to dig their way into his heart.

“No,” he reassures her. “Of course it’s not.”

She cries then, unexpectedly, shuddering sobs that echo loudly in their room. At some point, she had stopped crying. If they fell apart at every horror they’d experienced since the world cracked open, they wouldn’t survive. Fitz holds her to him, pressing his lips to her forehead and trying not to be sick as Robin’s words flood his mind.

This is how it will end—with Jemma crying in his arms. He tries to pull himself back. Today is not that day. Today he can love her without losing her. She is real and alive and whole, and today he can save her.

He shifts until he is sitting up, bringing her with him and reaching for a small pouch in his cubby-hole next to the bed. He takes her hand in his and shakes out two rings, smooth and polished, like something from Before.

“Made ‘em with some scrap metal I nicked. I was saving them for…” He can’t say it, but she’ll know—for a mythical day that won’t ever come, when they return to the past and save the world. He’d never believed in a higher power, so how could he believe in a prophecy that set the remains of their team up as saviors? And yet he’d held onto these rings because he hadn’t wanted it to be like this.

Fitz holds her hands and ducks his head until he can meet her eyes. She’s still crying but she smiles at him, soft and trusting.

“I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old,” he tells her. “There’s no one else I’d rather be trapped in a dystopian hellscape with.”

Jemma laughs and rolls her eyes, and he sneaks a kiss. Everything here is stolen, even these moments that should be their right.

He struggles to remember what people say in weddings, but people don’t have them anymore, and his memories are blurring together. “I promise,” he tries, “to love and respect and support you. I promise to be with you, for better or worse, metrics full of units or none at all, in sickness and in health, until—” His lungs constrict and he breathes through the pain of it, of knowing it has always been until her death. “Forever. I promise I’ll be with you forever.”

Fitz slides the ring onto her finger and she lifts her hand up, the metal shining in the dim light.

“I promise,” she repeats after him, “to love and respect and support you. I promise to be with you, for better or worse, metrics full of units or none at all, in sickness and in health, forever.”

He looks down as she puts his own ring on. It surprises him, seeing it against his skin, new and odd and yet already a part of him.

“Fitz,” she says urgently, and he glances back up at her. “I promise, okay? I promise I’ll be with you forever.”

He knows what she’s trying to tell him, what she’s trying to give him. He wants nothing more than to take her offering, but he doesn’t know how to have faith.

“You’re my husband,” she says, framing his face with her hands and kissing away his tears. “But you’re more than that, too. I’ll always be with you, Fitz.”

He kisses her back, hungrily and greedily. Today she is real and alive and whole, and today his ache for her can be soothed.      

iii.

“I can’t believe we’ve never been to Vegas before!” Jemma giggles, pulling sharply at his arm so he topples into her side.

“Is it honestly that exciting? We don’t gamble or participate in other...seedy activities.”

“We could see a show?” Jemma suggests, although she seems content enough to stay in this club and order increasingly complicated drinks. “I always thought of a Vegas trip as very American. A real cultural experience.”

“It’s too bad Coulson didn’t give us more than one night off. Who knows what sort of American cultural experiences we could have.” If she detects the sarcasm in his voice, she doesn’t respond, just insistently pushes another drink his way.

It might not be his ideal vacation, but they haven’t had a free night in ages, and he can’t complain when Jemma’s warm body is pressed against him, when the worry lines creasing her forehead have smoothed out and she’s giggling like they used to, back when everything was easy.

She kisses his jaw and then slides closer, biting at his ear. He squirms a bit, not quite as comfortable with public displays of affection as she is, although based on the antics of some other couples in this club, her actions could be considered positively family-friendly.  

“Let’s get married,” she whispers, the heat of her exhale fanning across his face.

“Um, wh-what?” he manages, brain stuck somewhere between where her hand is inching up his thigh and the shock of her words, spoken as if she’d merely suggested ordering room service.

“It’s a proper American experience, isn’t it? Going to Vegas and unexpectedly getting married? Oh, do you think we could find an Elvis officiant? Now that would be authentic.”

Fitz realizes he must be a few more beers in than he’d thought, because he can’t think of any compelling counterarguments to Jemma’s reasoning, which rarely happens.

“Okay…” he says, drawing the word out to give him time to think. “You’re sure about this though? This isn’t the alcohol?”

Jemma smiles at him and then straddles his lap in one fluid motion. She tugs him to her by the collar, and her grin is mischievous but her eyes are heart-stoppingly sincere. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve wanted to marry you for ages, and I’m afraid with this whole saving-the-world business, we might never have the opportunity.”

He chews on his lip, considering, although he’s never had the power to deny her. And anyway, she’s right—they know better than anyone the danger of waiting, and he really, truly wants to marry her. He grabs his cell phone from the table and does a quick Google search. He shows her what he thinks is an acceptable result, and she approves with a decidedly non-PG kiss.

++

He hadn’t meant to answer the phone—the shrill ringing had only increased the pounding of his head and he thought he’d rejected the call. Instead, his mother’s voice reverberates in the tiny hotel room, staticky through the speaker.

“Leopold James Fitz, I have been asking you about your wedding plans for ages! I haven’t seen you or Jemma in almost two years, and you have the absolute gall to send me photos of the two of you eloping in Vegas? Vegas, Leopold?”

Fitz groans, pulling a pillow over his face. He vaguely remembers texting his mother a few photos. Drinking apparently turns him into an idiot.

“Hello, Linda!” Jemma pipes up from beside him, sounding remarkably bright and cheery and not at all hungover.

“Oh, hello, Jemma. Please don’t think I’m upset at you, love. I know this harebrained idea must’ve been all Leo’s doing.”

Fitz expects Jemma to correct his mother, but instead she hums noncommittally and smirks at his outraged expression.

“Well, you know how Fitz can be,” she says as he splutters in protest. “He’s so focused once he gets an idea into his head. We’re dreadfully sorry we didn’t tell you, though. What if we plan a nice reception in Glasgow later this year, would that be all right? We haven’t even told my parents yet, and I’m sure they’ll be equally upset.”

He can hear his mother considering before she acquiesces with a sigh. “That’s a lovely idea. Very modern.”

“Wonderful,” Jemma says, snuggling into his side. The feel of her limbs entwined with his leaves him both breathless and content. He’s suddenly aware that this is the first morning he’s woken up next to his wife, and the realization staggers him.

“And of course, congratulations! I must admit I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, and I’ve been praying for this day since Leo first wrote me about this brilliant girl in his classes. I spent months encouraging him to say something to you, but he was too shy. Kept telling me he couldn’t think of anything clever enough to get your attention. And now I can hardly believe it, but here we are! I’m so very happy for you two.”

Jemma glances up at him, eyes wide in surprise, although he can’t imagine why.

“Thank you, Linda,” she says. “We’ll email you some potential dates, okay?”

“Of course. Love you both.”

“Love you, Mum,” Fitz manages. When he hangs up the phone, Jemma is still staring at him, her expression inscrutable.

“What?” he asks.

“You really spent months trying to get my attention?”

Fitz shrugs. “I always thought it was a bit obvious. Why?”

Jemma shakes her head, eyes softening as she looks at him. “It’s nothing. I just...I’ve always noticed you, Fitz.” She moves until she’s lying on top of him, her head resting against his heart. “I love you so much,” she whispers. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”

He takes her hand in his, their matching wedding bands lining up. His whole body warms at the sight. “What else was I gonna do?” he says, dropping a kiss to her head, but she’s already fallen back asleep.

iv.

Jemma takes his hand, sliding her fingers in between his, and for a moment the horror of their situation fades and he feels the relief that has only ever come from her presence.

“I’ve thought about our wedding a lot,” she whispers. It’s not at all what he’s expecting her to say, and her ability to surprise him after all their years together sends tendrils of warmth through his veins. It’s too dark to see her expression, but he doesn’t need to. He closes his eyes and breathes her in.

“I never thought I’d be that type of person,” Jemma continues, squeezing his hand, the alternating pressure their own Morse code. This is the way she holds his hand when she’s telling him you’re my person. “You were always the romantic one. But I imagined having a small ceremony in the backyard of our cottage in Perthshire. We’d have decorated with fairy lights and flowers, and that’s all we’d need because our home would be so lovely. We could have drinks and all your favorite desserts and half our friends would end up passing out in the living room.”

The drip of a tear off her nose somehow echoes in their hidden closet, despite the cacophony closing in from the outside, and Fitz finds he can’t speak at all. He squeezes her hand back. You’re my person, too.

“I was going to make you wear a kilt,” she laughs. “I thought you’d look so handsome.”

He swallows thickly and draws her into his arms. At this point, there is no need for defensive posturing. There is no reason to prepare. Fighting was destined to get them this far, and this far only. The lifelines on their palms match up, and the truth they’ve fought for so long is this: their love is infinite but their bodies are fragile.

She presses a kiss to his chest and speaks directly to his heart: “I was going to vow to be with you forever, no matter what. But if this is the price for our years together, I wouldn’t change a thing. I hope you know that. So, since this is our last chance: Leopold James Fitz, will you—”

“Jemma,” he chokes. “I—”

But here, they have always been too late.

v.

“This is ridiculous,” Jemma seethes, storming into the lab where he’s finishing up with equipment diagnostics.

“What is it?” he asks, turning to her in concern.

She wipes furiously at the tears on her cheeks, and he can tell by her posture that she’s equally angry at herself. “I know I’m being stupid, and after everything we’ve been through wedding planning should be the easiest thing to survive, but it’s so stressful, and you know, it’s hard finding any vendors with any sort of proper cancellation policy. Is it our fault we work for a spy organization and can’t always predict what threats will arise last minute? We already lost all our deposits from the last time everything fell apart, and I just got off the phone with the venue, and they refuse to rebook us because they think we’re fickle. Fickle, Fitz, as if we knew there’d be a bloody alien invasion a week before our wedding!”

A need for air forces Jemma to stop yelling, and he takes the opportunity to gather her in his arms. “I know,” he soothes, stroking her hair rhythmically until her erratic breathing slows down. “I’m so sorry, Jemma. I know it’s not fair.”

“Why aren’t you more upset by this?” she asks.

He holds her even closer and rests his cheek on the top of her head. “I am upset. I wanted this, too. But mostly I want to be married to you, and we can find another way.”

“A courthouse wedding?” Her voice is subdued, muffled against his shirt.

Fitz steps back and takes her hand, guiding her over to his work station. “I was doing some research for a honeymoon, and it was supposed to be a surprise, but…” He clicks on a folder on his desktop and opens a brochure he’d downloaded the other day.

“The Seychelles?” Jemma’s eyes widen, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

“Yeah, well, we never got the chance. But I noticed this place offers—” he scrolls down until he finds the highlighted paragraph. “—wedding packages. You don’t have to book them far in advance, and we’d only need to bring a few documents.”

Jemma steps closer, skimming through the information. “I’d wanted everyone to be there," she sighs. "But after today, I don’t see it happening. And oh, Fitz...this is absolutely beautiful.” She turns her face towards him, and her smile is enough to make him believe in a universe where anything is possible.

Yeah, he thinks. Beautiful.  

She reaches up, brushing her lips against his. “I’m in. And I’m going to do something with you on that island that will take your breath away.”

He laughs. “I know, I know, we’re going snorkeling.”

Jemma smiles smugly, stepping forward until there’s no space between them. “No,” she says, gazing directly at him and making his heart stutter. “I’m not talking about snorkeling.”

Fitz is not entirely convinced he’ll survive the wedding.

(+ i.)

“Can you believe how beautiful it is today? And you insisted planning an outdoor wedding in Scotland was practically begging for rain. Perhaps we’re not cursed after all.” Jemma is sitting at their breakfast nook, a mug of tea in her hands. The light from the rising sun filters in through the open window, setting her hair ablaze. Fitz is about to tell her how beautiful she looks, but first—

“Ugh, I said that one—”

“You said it more than once, actually.”

“Okay, fine, but I also said we were stronger than any curse. Which you’d know if Kasius hadn’t ruined my proposal.”

“Fitz,” Jemma says, almost sternly, as she sets her tea down and holds a hand out to him. He walks over to stand between her legs and she gazes up at him with an adoration so intense it’s like standing beneath a waterfall.

“Yeah?”

“We’re getting married today.” She reaches up to pull at his shirt and he tips towards her, kissing her and tasting Earl Grey and orange scone. He doesn’t know how many kisses they’ve shared in this lifetime or how many they’ve lived and can’t remember, only that the press of her lips to his is, all these years later, both achingly familiar and intoxicatingly new.

“We’re getting married today,” he agrees. He sits down at her feet, resting his back against the window bench and letting Jemma run her fingers through his hair. He gazes around at the small cottage they’ve made their own, at the fresh flowers and fairy lights serving as wedding decor. It’s simple and beautiful and he thinks, god, I’ve waited my whole life for this. Not just for the wedding, for all of it—their home, the family they’ve created in each other. They spent lifetimes separated or failing to save the world, but all of that pain only led them to this beginning.

“We have at least thirty minutes before my parents inevitably show up two hours ahead of schedule,” Jemma says. Her fingernails scratch playfully at his scalp and he sighs in contentment.

“Mm, any plans?”

He glances up when she doesn’t respond, and her answering smirk is demanding to be kissed off her face. So he does.

++

Fitz and Jemma tiptoe through the living room, where Daisy, Mack, Elena, Hunter, and Bobbi are passed out, sprawled across the floor and all of their furniture. They quietly pile leftover dessert onto a paper plate and sneak back into bed, taking turns with one fork and giggling like it’s fifteen years ago and they’re tipsy in their dorm room after finishing top of all their classes for the semester.

“You looked so good today,” Jemma mumbles, mouth full of cake. “I knew you’d be ridiculously attractive in a kilt.”

“Really? Because you couldn’t wait to get me out of it,” Fitz replies, leaning forward to kiss frosting from the corner of her mouth.

Jemma laughs, unabashed. “As if you were any better. I’ll never find those buttons, and they were beautiful.”

Fitz blushes, apologetic, and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he says. “Was the wedding everything you wanted?”

“Yes.” She takes a final bite of cake and sets the plate down on her nightstand. “I’m sure I’m being grossly sentimental, but this was the best day of my life.” Jemma lies down, resting her head in his lap and closing her eyes as he softly slides his fingers through her hair.

“Do you ever think about...with all the time jumps, there must be some version of us that never experienced this, right?”

“No,” Fitz says, voice firm. “Everything was always going to lead us here.”

He feels Jemma smile against his leg, can tell from the way the rhythm of her breathing changes that she’s falling asleep. “I don’t think you’re speaking with your usual scientific lack of bias.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I refuse to believe this wasn’t always our future.”

Jemma reaches up, pulling his hand from her hair and bringing it to her face. She kisses his palm and then rests his hand to her chest, so he can feel the beating of her heart.

“My hopeless romantic,” she sighs.

“Yeah, well, you married me.”

She laughs and he shifts until he’s lying on his side facing her. “I did,” she murmurs. “And I would do it again. I don’t think there could exist a version of me that wouldn’t want to marry you.”

He kisses her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers. “I can’t wait for our future.”

Jemma smiles against his lips, no longer on the precipice of sleep. She kisses him deeply and draws him towards her until his body rests heavily on top of hers. She holds him tightly, and Fitz forgets all about the past and the future and the mystifying combination of the two, because lying here, tangled up in his wife’s limbs, is the only thing he’s ever needed.

[ginkgo-bilob4]

Abyssal Expedition of AFK Arena

The Abyssal lobby was pretty fun. It was a totally unique event, with different systems, gatherings, and supervisors. There was an extraordinary arrangement to take in, and each seemingly insignificant detail about it was new to the point that very few had a savvy considered how to beat it until a few days.

Fortunately, that was the first. Like they clearly state about sustaining, it's simply frightening the initial go through in light of the fact that you don't have the foggiest thought what you're doing. Subsequently, we have the experience, and fortunately, we'll have an authentic duty from all players (in case you do the valuable stone enrollment thing), so this time it will be unimaginable.

Anyway, why am I making this post? Taking everything into account, there's a lot of ground to cover in this event. It's an abuse of perseverance to use your full LB meta bunch in a weak spot, and fortunately, you don't have to! Here are a couple of clues, tricks, and holy people I'd suggest executing into your strategies:

1. Use as barely any holy people as possible in a fight.

In profound, there's a perseverance meter for each holy person. They start off with 60 energy and gain 4 reliably. Most battles require 12 energy from every legend needed to start, and you get some back by beating the stage with specific conditions. One star if you beat it, a star if nobody kicks the basin in the battle, and a star if you win inside 30 seconds of the start. Each star you get gives both of you energy back, which implies you can net an insufficiency of only six energy.

In any case, here's a fascinating point: you could use four legends in a battle to get three stars on a battle, or use one holy person to two-star it (if you win a presentation, the base is two stars since you'd lose in case someone kicked the can). Beyond question, the four holy people lose less energy autonomously, anyway you'll for the most part lose 24 energy, instead of losing 8 by soloing it. Especially if it's a holy person you wouldn't routinely use in a gathering comp regardless, it's legitimized, in spite of any difficulty to solo it at whatever point you can. (But in the event that it requires 3 legends to one star when you understand you can three-star with five, by then it's a lack of 30 energy regardless.)

2. (altered) Have a strong rundown from the earliest starting point.

A huge bit of this event is the respected exemplification. It will in general be used to buy relics, which buff legends in different branches. (More on branches in another tip.) Blessed core is gotten from taking out towns, towns, and metropolitan networks. In any case, the basic buffs from the tree (with respect to HP, atk, def) apparently won't adequately be to rapidly start running your Elite+ and Legendary holy people.

Likewise, my proposal is use your worthy holy people at a high ascending aside from if A, they starting at now work at lower climbs (Mehira for example) or B, they're a director killer (like Cecilia or Saurus). By then, when the branches start showing up at lv 2 or 3 when the detail buffs make climbs basically insignificant, you can start turning out with the E+ youngsters.

Essentially, endeavor to arrange for what holy people you put in your rundown so you can restrict energy use and expand results (dingy deeds done clearance room, I expected to). You simply get 10-25 holy people depending upon your position, so pick wisely!

3. Build your branches, especially the ones you use.

Much equivalent to in the common game, the Abyssal lobby has a tree, with branches that buff the holy people in them. Rather than the standard game, nevertheless, each branch is extraordinary (if its all the same to you buff mage branch). You won't turn out gravely in building any of them, so endeavor to put together the branch you have various legends in, and in case you have any holy people in it, buff the official branch as well (likely the best one of the five). Regardless, you'll in all probability need to update each branch for excursions, and it's essentially a savvy thought to do that regardless. In other words, it isn't so expensive, so what do you need to lose?

4. Encourage with the non military personnel armed force and build normal trust.

This event is surely not an autonomous event. You'll probably be isolated from every other person for the primary day or two, anyway endeavor to connect with various players as quick as could be normal in light of the current situation. Since players that are related can attack wherever connected with a typical like, your social affair will propel course snappier than if there were 70 lines rushed toward the last boss.

On a near note, you'll probably have to work together with someone else to take out your first towns and metropolitan networks since they're so problematic. Just realize that the person who kills the last foe includes the locale that was with everything taken into account struggled for, so make sure to ask concerning whether they need it before you slaughter it after another social affair was by then endeavoring to take it. That is essentially mean. Have the movement to help others before they help you, it will pay off as time goes on since you'll have the alternative to quickly confide in everybody around you. I understand that appears to be a type of kindergarten teacher stuff to express (no offense to any kindergarten educators out there), anyway it's genuine, it caused me out so much the last time and made the event more fun.

So those were the rule tips and beguiles I expected to talk about, as of now for certain holy people I used that were incredible:

Orthros Icon

1. Orthros–clearly they're redoing the tank branch (probably considering the quantity of people complained about Orthros), anyway I figured that if you can't beat em, join em! He was really tanky last time; even at L+, he was killing it! Likely considering the way that risings don't have any kind of effect that much yet whatever.

In a general sense, Orthros has an unapproachable limit where he gets more max HP until he's at 150% of his base, by then retouches 3% of his HP reliably. That doesn't appear to be like an incredible arrangement, yet since he has 1.5 events his greatest HP, it's more like 4.5% of his HP consistently. The tank branch by then extended HP regen considerably, which implies he was retouching basically 7% of his HP consistently. That, close by his ult, which let him recover even in ended time, made him essentially unkillable aside from in the event that you had senseless impacted mischief or Ferael/Oden. Discussing…

Read more about Abyssal Expedition here

Oden Icon

2. Oden–another case of "if you can't beat em, join em." When he was on the adversary side, he genuinely screwed with your gathering. He moves legends into each other, takes their energy, and does massive AoE hurt, especially when he gets his eyes opened.

Plainly, that suggests you can pick up by it by using him in your gathering! Combine him with another AoE unit (like maybe Skriath or… no not going to make reference to him), and you have a wombo combo, dynamic couple, um… torture train, energy get, Bruce Wayne. (what am I sayn'?)

Warek Ascended

3. Warek–so you consider mission Warek? Without a doubt, he kinda sucks to fight against, and you know why. Nonetheless, envision a situation where I uncovered to you that he could do that for you.

Warek on your side with redesignd may is a monster. Imagine him in the mission, yet about twice as incredible and can solo a foe bunch with no issue (so generally imagine him twice as extraordinary, he could starting at now obliterate me). This Madlad can be used at any move considering the base detail buff, yet unmistakably, he will improve a SI and stuff. In other words, you're apparently already using him for manager fights, you should play with him elsewhere.

Estrilda Ascended

4. Estrilda–she's possible the legend that is cleaned the third-most by the ground-breaking tree. Where Warek was a unit, Estrilda is a super unit, with all the AoE she deals and the presence siphon she gains from the tree. Again, you're apparently using her starting at now, yet she can without a very remarkable stretch exhibition fights if you need to quickly move to certain metropolitan networks or a boss.

Rigby Icon

5. Rigby–(Quick aside here, I will let you parents understand that Rigby is my #1 legend in the game. I use him an extraordinary arrangement, so I know a ton about what he can do.) If holy people like Warek and Estrilda got incredible buffs from the might branch, Rigby transforms into a monster with it. Imagine a holy person with 90% damage decline, in excess of 150 dash, and tremendous heaps of life siphon when he's at low HP. Taking everything into account, that is the importance of OP, and you'll unquestionably notice it in case you use him. He can similarly hurt managers, not actually Saurus level yet simultaneously solid as a rule.

That is practically all I require to state on this. I will probably invigorate this post as I experience the event for the resulting time, whether or not to add more tips and tricks or to share some unique legends that my social occasion has had achievement with. I believe this is a good first guide, I plan on adding more here!

[jouissezduprintemps]

Nobody Wants Fleas

Rating: T Words: 1681 Fandom: Naruto Summary: Shameless, self-indulgent gen fluff. Kakashi enlists Tenzo’s help to bathe his ninken.

Tenzo opened the door to Kakashi’s apartment with apprehension, leaning through the cracked door to get a better idea of what he was walking into. His captain held a struggling tan and brown dog – Biscuit, if he remembered correctly – in the crook of his right arm, swearing as he tried to get it to behave. His sharingan eye was open and active when he wheeled around in time to shout, “Tenzo, door!”

Tenzo slammed the door behind him, inches from Uhei’s nose. The red-and-white hound looked up at him in dismay, betrayal written on his face.

“Dammit!” Kakashi swore as Biscuit freed himself from Kakashi and dashed across the apartment, bristling at his master.

All eight of Kakashi’s ninken were inside, noticeably stripped of their trademark vests and hitai-ate. Kakashi was fuming. He wore only his trousers and undershirt, and it looked like he’d been dunked into a pool. He was trying to reason with the dogs, imploring, “Guys, come on. Can’t we just get this over with? I don’t want to do this any more than you do. But, the fact of the matter is, you guys have fleas. And, if you have fleas, I’ll get fleas. I’m not an Inuzuka! I can’t have fleas!”

“We do not have fleas,” Pakkun snapped from his perch at the foot of Kakashi’s bed. “Urushi has fleas. The rest of us are clean.”

“If one of you has them, you all do. You know the drill. Now, come on, make this easy. See, I asked Tenzo to come help. You guys like Tenzo.”

“So?” Biscuit sat on the ground and scratched vigorously behind his ear. “That doesn’t make it any less degrading. We don’t have fleas!”

“Then stop itching,” Kakashi challenged, at which his ninken looked away with a snarl.

“Senpai,” Tenzo arched an eyebrow at Kakashi, “you told me that we had an urgent ANBU mission. Are you telling me that you had me come over to help you wash your dogs?”

“Hey, this could easily be a B-rank. I’ve been at it for an hour, and not one of them has been bathed!” His shout was directed toward the pack.

Tenzo bit back a sigh as he removed his mask and armor, laying them down on one of the kitchen chairs. His shoes were the next to follow. Lastly, he took off his face plate and tied his hair up, although it still hung down to his lower back all the same. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” He looked at the dogs. “Are any of you going to come quietly?”

As he dressed down, Kakashi was creeping up on Akino. He threw himself forward and tackled the tan hound, who Tenzo almost didn’t recognize without his sunglasses. He wrapped his arms around the dog’s torso and hefted him up, pulling an undignified yelp from Akino. “Tenzo!”

“On it!” Tenzo rushed behind his senpai and shut the bathroom door as soon as he set Akino down, blocking his escape. The dog was manhandled into the bathtub by Kakashi.

“Man the shower head,” he instructed Tenzo as he climbed into the tub after Akino. He trapped the dog’s haunches between his legs so that he couldn’t escape. Tenzo did as he was told, spraying down the hound when necessary and providing Kakashi with globs of flea shampoo, which he scrubbed deep into Akino’s fur. By the time Tenzo washed the soap off Akino’s stomach, the dog looked absolutely defeated. In one last act of defiance, he shook before Tenzo could trap him in a towel, spraying both men with excess water.

“Next!” Kakashi shouted as he left the bathroom to retrieve another dog. Tenzo had just let Akino free from the towel when Kakashi returned with Shiba, who was growling dangerously. “One down, seven to go.” He unceremoniously dropped Shiba into the tub and held him the same way he did Akino.

“I hate you,” Shiba snarled.

“No, you don’t. You’ll thank me when you don’t itch anymore.”

“I hope Urushi rolls all over your bed.”

“Don’t be cruel.”

This time, Tenzo was quicker with the towel, catching Shiba before he had a chance to run. He mumbled apologies to the summon as he dried him off, but Shiba ignored him, angry at the fruity scent left behind by the shampoo.

Biscut, Guroko and Uhei didn’t put up a fight after seeing their packmates return, damp and disheveled, from the bathroom. This made the process much simpler for them all, and the hounds were promised a special treat for taking mercy on the two humans.

Kakashi put his hands on his hips as he decided the order for the last three dogs. “Urushi, don’t make me come get you,” he requested, his voice lacking any tone of threat.

Perfectly aware that he started the whole thing, Urushi came without making a show of it. He shook his head when Tenzo put too much water on his face, admitting, “My bad, Kakashi. Everybody freaked when I figured out I had ‘em, and they told me not to tell.”

“It was pretty obvious when we were training earlier,” Kakashi countered, cleaning his fur thoroughly, as he was the root of the problem. “How did you get them, anyway?”

“I’m pretty sure I got ‘em from this pretty, black retriever I met the other week…”

“Did you not see her itching?” Tenzo asked incredulously, earning a snort from Kakashi.

“Guess I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Kakashi chided as he allowed Tenzo to rinse Urushi off. This time, he waited for Tenzo to let Urushi go before getting another dog. He returned with Bull in his arms, the dog’s large paws on his shoulders. He couldn’t see for the hound, and Tenzo had to help guide him. Thankfully, Bull both fit into the tub and didn’t resist; he could have taken Tenzo and Kakashi for a ride if he’d wanted to, and both ninja were relieved that he decided to be docile. In the end, all that was left was Pakkun, who Kakashi saved for last because he was the most obedient.

“You’re gonna want to wash your bedclothes,” Pakkun warned as he tilted his head for Kakashi to scrub his fur. “I tried to stop ‘em, but the pack decided to lay on your bed in revenge. If you sleep in it, you’ll smell like wet dog.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Kakashi sighed, frustrated with his ninken. At least they were almost through with what needed to be done.

Pakkun let Tenzo dry him before plodding into the apartment, not surprised to see the rest of his pack piled on Kakashi’s small bed. He began to scold them, and Kakashi took a step forward to leave the bathroom, but Tenzo caught him by the arm.

“Your turn.”

Kakashi laughed, his voice dying when he realized his kouhai wasn’t joking.

“Go on. Lean over the edge of the tub. Your hair’s getting a wash, too.”

“Tenzo,” he scoffed.

“You are not giving me fleas, Senpai.”

They glared at one another, neither backing down. Kakashi lost when Tenzo made his ghoul face, making him jump back a step or two. “I hate it when you do that!” he complained, but he did as he was told, sitting on the outside of the tub and hanging his head over the basin.

“You’ll thank me for this when you’re not itching during our next mission,” Tenzo assured him as he ran water through his silver hair. He lathered the shampoo in his hands and worked it through Kakashi’s hair, admittedly less than thrilled that his senpai was going to smell like a dog for a little while. Still, it had to be better than fleas. “Close your eyes,” he warned as he rinsed the lather out.

Kakashi left his head hanging over the tub as he made a grabbing motion, indicating that he wanted a towel. Careful not to give him the one used for the dogs, Tenzo put one in his hand. Kakashi straightened and stood up, rubbing the water out of his hair with the material. “Happy?”

“Yes.” Tenzo gathered the dirty towels and hefted them into the washing machine. He had just finished adding detergent when he heard Pakkun laugh uncontrollably from just around the corner.

“It’s your fault!” Kakashi shouted accusatorily, and Tenzo snickered to himself. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s pretty funny.” Shiba’s tail thumped against the floor in rapid time.

“Everybody up,” Tenzo instructed as he approached Kakashi’s bed, waving his arms in a repetitive, upward motion at the pack.

“You guys are assholes,” Kakashi scolded his ninken as he helped Tenzo strip the bedclothes.

“Take it easy, Pup,” Akino scolded. “We’re just messing with you.”

“Yeah, you get more riled up than Sakumo used to. It’s funny.” Uhei grinned, showing his pointed teeth.

“To you, maybe,” Kakashi grumbled. He gathered the bedclothes and rounded the corner to stuff them into the washing machine.

“Cut him some slack, you guys,” Tenzo tried to reason with the hounds on Kakashi’s behalf. He’d never seen anything get underneath his senpai’s skin so badly.

“You gotta understand,” Pakkun spoke up, jumping onto the kitchen table to become more level with Tenzo’s gaze. “We’ve known Kakashi since he was born. We watched him when his dad had to go off on missions. He used to use Bull as a pillow, and we all used to take turns walking with him to the academy. The kid’s been a part of the pack long before he signed the contract. So yeah, sometimes we mess with him, but it’s all in good fun.”

“He just doesn’t like it anymore because he think’s he’s too old to be the pup,” Biscuit smirked.

“I’m seventeen,” Kakashi protested as he returned to the group.

“But you’re still Sakumo’s pup,” Pakkun reminded him. “Get a pup of your own, and that’ll change.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes. “When I have to wrangle all eight of you? No thanks.”

“Whatever you say, Kakashi,” Pakkun dismissed the comment. “Now, how about we go finish that training?”