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#they can run the extra mile and use their brains to understand or at least try to grasp a concept they're not familiar with
randomnameless · 2 years
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I saw a thread that argued that you can't have translation without localization and that the latter is always going to be tied to/dependent of the culture of its target audience. What are your thoughts on that especially in relation to FE? I think with this context, 3H/3Hopes(or Nopes) was always going to be different/lolcalized to cater to the Western audience (specifically America and its zeitgiest).
Partly horseshit.
Of course a translation has bias from the person/state doing the translation, and this bias should be taken into account whenever you want to use the translation.
But think about an academic paper, it is not translated, thus localised for scientist Y from country W, it has to be accessible and understandable by every scientist who understands the language you're using.
The target audience is "scientists" but it doesn't mean the paper is modified to cater to a certain audience.
In a way, yeah, finding "equivalent" words is a form of localisation, since you won't find the perfect match, but if a perfect match exists (idk, like contract and the French contrat) I don't think it'd be localisation?
Some other notions/concepts are impossible to translate with a word from the language of the "targeted audience". A "baguette tradition" is a specific type of baguette, and can't be translated as bagel, or the mundane "bread".
So then what? If someone writes "baguette tradition", that person isn't translating, but if they define it later in a bubble or in a footnote, it is still part of a localisation process : to bring something unknown to a targeted audience.
In a way, yes, a translator and ultimately a localiser will always have their own biases, so each translation/localisation has to take it into account.
That being said...
I can understand the “difference” because of the translator/localiser’s bias, but not the “pandering to a specific audience”.
Like, I partly grew up in the 4Kids era, and here in France, we had old anime being, uh, brought to a french audience since, iirc, the 80s. French children (people?) at that time wouldn’t be able to watch a show meant for children if the character had unfrench sounding name like, uh, Ryo Saeba. So it was turned in Nicky Larson.
Joey Wheeler being the “lolcalised” form of Jonouchi Katsuya, because, I suppose, back then, some people really really think US/Western children wouldn’t watch a “cartoon” with un-occidental sounding names.
Usopp (wordplay on Uso meaning lie) became the french Pipo (pipeau means a shitty lie), okay it works as a kind of translation but, uh... no? Just no? Don’t translate names ffs?
I remember the Shaman King anime from 4Kids keeping the “un-occidental” names, and the ceiling was broken, iirc, with the anime versions of Naruto and Bleach. Of course we still had early dubs with “Fire Style” instead of “Katon”, but by the mid 2000s, the barn was open and lo, children (at least here in France, that’s what I can talk about) could listen and read japanese words without a “perfect” translation.
Where am I going?
Well, we went from a ban on anything sounding too “foreign” for a certain audience to accept those names/words for this same audience, because, well, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it must have come with a general need and desire to bring the audience something new -
The works weren’t catered to an audience, instead, the audience was brought in that work, in that work’s world and “foreign” culture (i am ashamed but i had my first ramen after watching/reading too much Naruto)
Bleach’s Zanpakuto became common, while the translated “Soul Cutter” (iirc that’s the one?) was never used. Rukia’s deference to her older brother and superiors wasn’t toned down because here in France we never had (afair?) so much formality between siblings, and yet, the localised Bleach materials, let it be anime or manga, kept it.
More mundane, but the senpai/kouhai thingie? 
Doesn’t exist here, and yet some works depicted it in it’s complicated mess, without needing to tuned it down to “cater to an audience” who’s not familiar with the concept.
----
Now, back to Fodlan...
Suggesting, in 2019, that a certain audience cannot “deal” with a story where a religious organisation is not evil incarnate and someone who starts a conflict based on the “the ends justify the means” might not be completely full of crap is, imho, downright insulting.
We had a lot of people, when FE16 was released, who argued about IS’s POV and if the “unification boner” was a thinly veiled nod to a certain country’s rising (?) nationalism...
But what about the lolcalisation? Is it only playing with preexisting biases or, idk, their whitewashing of an imperialist who fights against “irrationality” and a  religion to push her own values on countries she invades is supposed to be a nod at... something ?
For sure, this is a bad faith reading -
And yet, is it really complicated to have a story where a religious organisation that calls itself a church but is actually led by were-dragons who escaped a genocide and just try to help people around - is not the reason why the World is bad?
Take a certain movie that will not be aired in certain parts of the world because two women are holding hands - cultural norms, no matter what you think of them, commended the, idk, publishers not to release say movie in those countries.
What kind of similar thing exists in the “West” regarding... a religious organisation led by a dragon, and an emperor in red who wants to force their “ideals” by invading other countries? Imperialism good so let’s make it better? Religion BaD so lets highlight how it sucks?
And does it justify altering a game and the meaning of its quotes?
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Tl; Dr : Translation and localisation always comes with a bias from the translator/localiser, because they are human beings who were raised in a certain culture and even if they try to be as neutral as possible, they cannot offer a work that is 100% true and matches the original.
That being said, we’re in 2022 now - and while FE14′s dub was an artifact (”Suzukaze? No, our audience is too stupid, let’s shorten it to Kaze instead! Tsubaki? No, Subaki sounds better!”) - I still believe a work shouldn’t be translated/localised to “cater” to an audience, people managed to understand Zanpakuto and Katon, I am pretty sure an audience can also understand that a fictional church led by a dragon is not the Catholic Church, or that religion isn’t an inherently “BaD” concept.
It’s merely my opinion as a consumer and part of the audience of the localised works - but I think I am open-minded enough and ready to engage with a fictional world and its fictional organisations, without needing to fall back on some preexisting biases or concepts I am familiar with. Of course that’s not to say things can look similar to real life issues (i said similar, forget your degrees) and we can’t reflect on that, but it’s always supposed to be a reflection, and not what the audience is engaging with or seeing first.
When you go to a Korean Restaurant, you don’t order mac’n’cheese or a jambon-beurre. Even if that’s what you usually eat. If you end up ordering something that looks and tastes like mac’n’cheese? Then good for you, but it’s not mac’n’cheese. You can’t expect a Koren Restaurant to serve you a jambon-beurre.
If you go there and they only serve you mac’n’cheese or jambon-beurre, what is even the point of going in this restaurant? Why are other customers served somethign else but I still have to eat the same thing I’m used to at home?
alas who am i to talk about those things, i have no degree
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Hello!!
I'm a bit new to the asking game, but I have a headcanon request! What if the Stardust Crusaders met the daughter of DIO, who had a bright and extremely sweet personality with a stand who has techomagic abilities (able to create advance technology, extended knowledge in technology). I apologize if this doesn't make sense! This would be platonic btw!
— 🧠 Anon!
I think I have a grasp of what to write for this ask finally. Darling is still a child of DIO it’s just that makes my title even wordier than it already is. Decided to do one character per bullet point btw
Platonic! Yandere! Stardust Crusaders w/ a technomagic stand darling.
You’re likely a huge help on the technological/engineering side of things for the crusaders. If you met them right at the start of trying to find DIO. Your first observation is probably akin of “Mr. Joestar you know you probably don’t need to break that expensive camera to use your stand right?”. Before long you have it repaired and ready to go, Joseph is wildly impressed and is quickly endeared to you. There is at least also one instance of him asking about fiddling around with a vending machine (for science of course), to maybe get something a little extra.
Avdol can see the trouble coming with you and Mr. Joestar a mile a way. Your eagerness towards technology is commendable and a little worrying if you get too caught up. Which is pretty often, and Joseph tends to be an enabler when it comes to anything he finds cool. He personally loves it himself but does his best to be your guide. He’s the one to most likely sit next to you in whatever transportation you’re in, it’s almost stifling but you barely notice most likely as you keep yourself entertained. There is quite a few times he does let you “loose” to do your thing, just because he enjoys your company so much.
Kakyoin is a bit more reserved in his reactions, the biggest thing that lures him to you is how well you utilize your stand in much of the technology you all run into. If you happen to bring up games out of boredom, his interest is piqued as you likely explain how you fixed a perfectly good console that was thrown in the trash. You tell him some people just don’t understand there’s things worth saving and there’s usually a fix that perfectly restores it. His feelings deepen when you tell him you believe him with the Death 13 fight. His hands are almost shaking, (In this scenario he is very likely to become a romantic yandere pretty quickly)
Polnareff bounces off your personality pretty easily, likes asking you a ton of questions and you manage to answer just about every one of them. He’d just wish you would relax a little bit and enjoy the smallest bit of relaxation (as you can when getting constantly chased by enemy stand users). So he usually nudges you with some kind of treat or even just doing something casually where it doesn’t seem that your brain is running on full power constantly. There’s a dozen times he’s even carrying you up the stairs, you deserve it. You saved his skin so he certainly has to return the favor. (This Frenchman would also be likely to end up a romantic yandere)
Jotaro is one who comes in when things go a little too far, especially if gramps or Polnareff are going what he considers over board, so if he wants to be around you he will find a way to do so. Not that he doesn’t occasionally indulge your tinkering with a little thunk to something with either his strength or Star Platinum’s. He definitely tells you to go to bed when you’re up too late for his liking while on the trip. Don’t ask why or how he got in your room, or even ponder if he was outside of your door guarding you. He can handle himself even if he is a bit hypocritical with some advice. Speaking of he is quick to tell you to lower your use of your stand, keeping it hidden so no potential danger catches everyone off guard. Especially when you’ve helped him out with Wheel of Fortune and Strength. He does let some of his eccentricities out with you and the others when it feels reasonable. But he’s still keeping one eye open at all times when he can.
If anyone’s wondering if there’s any worry about you being the daughter of DIO, I’d like to think Avdol was the one to keep an eye on you for trustworthiness before anything happened. (Even if none of them knew you were his daughter).
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how do you think enji and iida (separately ofc) would react to reader giving them a lil rock they found?
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Here’s part 1 of this little rock request I’ll post the second part w Enji one whenever I write it
I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Iida Tenya x Male Reader
Words: 657
Warning(s): None
Requests: Closed
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You were sleeping peacefully in your bed.
It was the weekend and training had been tough that week so you took the chance to sleep in late.
But not all things go according to plan.
Suddenly you were woken up by someone shaking you.
“Hm?”
You barely opened your eye when you were picked up and set into your feet, extremely confused as to what was happening.
You looked around with your bleary eyes and saw Tenya.
He was saying something, doing his usual air chopping and digging into your drawers but with your sleep-muddled brain, you didn’t understand any of what he said.
The only thing you could make out was to get ready.
You were ushered out of your room, downstairs, and into the boys’ dorm bathrooms to get ready by Tenya.
You didn’t understand what was going on and just did what you were told still half asleep and dosing off every couple of seconds.
You only really snapped out of your sleep-deprived haze when you stepped outside.
Tenya had dragged you into yet another early morning jog.
You turned to Tenya who was doing stretches.
“Tenyaaa it’s too early for this, I just want to sleep.”
He straightened up.
“Nonsense, it’s important to not slack off from doing your daily exercise!”
You groaned knowing there’s nothing you could say that’ll stop him from dragging you out.
“Now, (Y/n) no more complaining, come on we’ll start off easy with a mile!”
He took your hand in his and began dragging you along with him as he started running.
An hour had gone by full of just running, well for Tenya at least.
The hour for you was filled with slow jogging and getting passed by Tenya several times.
You were slumped against a nearby bench groaning from how tired you were.
“Tenya can we go back now?”
He looked at your pouting face and sighed.
“I suppose we can end early, but that means we will have to train extra hard to make up for it.”
You cheered just ready to go back and take the world’s longest nap.
“Just let me go get us something to drink it’s important to stay hydrated after all.”
You gave him a thumbs up in response.
Tenya stood at the nearby vending machine holding his can of orange juice rubbing his chin and debating on what to get for you.
“I should’ve asked him what he wanted before I left.”
He was about to press the button on the machine when your voice called out to him.
“Tenya!”
Said boy jumped and spun around seeing you running towards him.
You never run willingly so something must be wrong.
Tenya immediately revved his engines and met you halfway, skidding to a stop just before you and placing his hands on your shoulders.
“What’s wrong, are you okay, are you hurt?!”
“Look!”
He watched as you brought your hands up they were cupping something.
You opened your hands and he saw a silver palm-sized stone.
It was smooth and slightly glossy.
“It reminded me of you so I picked it up and wanted to give it to you, here!”
You placed the stone in his hands.
He stared at the stone lying in his palm and felt touched that you thought of him, even if it was something as silly as a rock.
“As touching as this sentiment is, I was worried about you I thought you were hurt!”
You just laughed as he began ranting, air chopping, and robotic movements as he went on about how unsanitary it was to pick up a rock off the ground without washing it first.
“Now, come let’s go back and get cleaned up.”
He took your hand in his and began dragging you once again back towards the dorms.
But what you couldn’t see was the pink tint on his cheeks and the way he slipped the rock into his pocket.
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timelesslords · 3 years
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it’s just around the corner darling (‘cause it lives in me)
8-year-old Annabeth is supposed to be sleeping. Instead, she overhears a few things she probably shouldn't.
***
Aka I get very in my feels about pre-TLT found family and baby Annabeth
“She’s a little kid, of course she’s fuckin’ slow.”
Thalia’s words seemed to turn Annabeth’s blood to ice.
She was supposed to be sleeping, and she almost had been before Grover and Thalia had started yelling at each other outside the door of the safe house they’d just barely made it too.
Well, until Thalia had started yelling at Grover, because Grover didn’t really yell, and he definitely didn’t yell at Thalia, who he always seemed particularly nervous and twitchy around.
All thoughts of sleeping were immediately banished as panic seized Annabeth instead.
Read on AO3
She kept herself as still as possible, eyes shut like she was sleeping. She heard Luke shift, maybe looking over his shoulder.
Annabeth wished she could see his face. Did he think she was slow too? Did Grover want to leave her behind? Luke would never let that happen, Annabeth knew that much, but she couldn’t help the guilt from washing over her anyway. Luke had had to carry her the last few miles tonight because her legs just wouldn’t work anymore, not matter how hard she tried to push them. That had only happened a few times ever, Annabeth made sure of it, but she knew they were trying to go fast now, and they were walking and running more than they ever had before. Luke hadn’t been mad, just scooped her up when he saw her stumbling. But they had gone slower after that, and it was her fault.
Annabeth felt her eyes prickle with tears, and she blinked them into her makeshift pillow. Crying was stupid, and it wasnt going to make her faster. She willed herself to stop before anyone could hear— Luke thought she was asleep, and she didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t.
Thalia and Grover were talking again, but their voices were just barely too quiet for her to make out the words. Thalia sounded mad, and Grover was talking fast, like he was trying to get the words out before Thalia yelled at him again. Annabeth picked up Grover saying “please” a few times, and then Thalia saying “no” very forcefully. They argued for another minute, Annabeth’s heart beating in nervous anticipation for each word.
“Don’t bring it up again,” Thalia snapped, loud enough for Annabeth to hear, and then she heard the door of the safe house being pulled back, and soft footsteps walking inside.
“Is she asleep?” Thalia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a sharp contrast from the tone she’d been using outside with Grover. Luke must have nodded, because Thalia sighed, and Annabeth heard her sitting down.
“What was that all about?” Luke asked. Annabeth could hear the forced casual tone he was putting on. If Annabeth had heard part of the conversation then Luke must have too, but he seemed like he wanted Thalia herself to tell him. Thalia made a displeased noise.
“Grover wants me and him to go ahead. Without you two,” she said, lowering her voice even more than she had when she first entered the safe house. Despite how quiet they were, Annabeth could still practically feel the distaste in her words. Annabeth could feel her heart speeding up uncomfortably. Was Thalia going to leave them behind? But she didn’t sound happy about it at all, and that calmed Annabeth’s nerves a little.
“What did you say?” Luke asked. The forced tone was gone, replaced by irritation, Annabeth thought. It was harder to tell without being able to see his expression, but Annabeth could imagine the frown on his face pretty well.
“I told him where he could stick his furry little hooves,” Thalia muttered bitterly. Annabeth didn’t quite understand what that meant, but judging from the way Luke snorted it was probably kind of rude.
“Bet he liked that,” Luke said, sarcastically.
“Whatever. He’s the reason we’re behind anyway,” Thalia said.
She sounded angry. Annabeth knew that shouldn’t make her feel good. Thalia being mad never tended to end well, regardless of where her anger was directed. But Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief anyway. If Thalia was angry at Grover’s suggestion then that meant wasn’t leaving.
At the same time, her words filled Annabeth with dread. They were behind, and that was bad, and Annabeth was slowing them down. Even Thalia had said so.
“Why did he want to split up at all? Isn’t three fighters better than one?” Luke asked. The forced casualness was back, and Annabeth didn’t like it, but she couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride that he’d counted her as one of the fighters in the group.
Thalia sighed again, and Annabeth heard a scraping noise. A second later the heat from the campfire flared.
“He said it would be faster,” Thalia said finally, reluctantly, “And that it might be safer for you two to not have me around.”
“That’s bullshit,” Luke said, angrily.
“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What, you think you’re special?” Luke said, though now his tone was laced with amusement.
“Well apparently I smell extra tasty,” Thalia replied, only a hint sarcastic. Luke laughed, low and quiet.
“I don’t think it matters,” he said, “Annie had monsters crawling all over her all by herself.”
Annabeth had to actively repress a shudder at the thought. She couldn’t move, couldn’t let them figure out she was awake— they would stop talking about adult things and she would miss it.
“That’s true,” Thalia said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“You’re not thinking about it, are you?”
“Of course I’m not,” Thalia said, sounding offended that Luke had even asked, “I’m pissed he even brought it up, especially after Annabeth was the one to save all our asses from that cyclops. He kept saying she’s slowing us down but we’d all be dead without her.”
Annabeth felt the same mixture of dread and pride as before. She was useful enough to not leave behind. Even if she was slow, and thinking of the cyclops cave made her want to cry.
“Asshole. He’s the one slowing us down, not knowing where the fuck he’s going,” Luke muttered darkly.
“I almost feel bad for the guy,” Thalia sighed. Annabeth heard more scraping and felt the fire flare again. “I mean he’s a kid just like us.”
“A kid who’s going to get us all killed if we’re not careful.”
Thalia hummed in agreement, and they were quiet for a minute. Annabeth didn’t really know what to think. She liked Grover— he was funny and he let her touch his hooves and he taught her how to play hacky sack— but she could tell that Luke didn’t and Thalia was starting not to. And Grover apparently didn’t like her. Or he thought she was slow, at least— but that made Thalia and Luke mad, even if they thought it was true. It was all very confusing, but she thought Luke and Thalia were on her side, at least.
“Is it weird I like watching her sleep?” Thalia asked, finally. With a start Annabeth realized they were talking about her. She tried extra hard to keep her breathing even.
“Why, ‘cause she’s not chattering your ear off?” Luke teased. Annabeth heard a soft thump and Luke’s laughter, and knew Thalia had probably punched him in the arm.
“I’d have her chat my ear off any day than have her be quiet like she’s been,” Thalia said. Luke didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the campfire. Annabeth could feel both their eyes on her, and she forced herself to keep looking asleep.
“I think the whole cyclops thing really freaked her out,” Thalia sighed, when Luke hadn’t spoken for a minute.
“Of course it freaked her out, she watched us all almost get eaten,” he snapped, his voice angry. Annabeth’s stomach turned. She tried to keep her expression smooth, even though she could practically smell the cyclops’ lair again. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose, or better yet, open her eyes and confirm that she wasn’t back there again. Their voices weren’t good enough to do that anymore, not after the monster had stolen them. She repressed another shudder.
“Well that’s why we have to get to this camp thing, right? So she doesn’t have to see shit like that anymore.”
Thalia sounded calm, not mad, but when Luke spoke again he still sounded angry.
“Bit late for that,” he said, voice quiet and bitter, and Thalia sighed again.
“Better late than never.”
Luke didn’t say anything.
Annabeth felt nerves swoop through her stomach. Did Luke not want to go to camp? He’d made it sound nice when he’d told her about it, but now he just sounded mad. Thalia wanted to, and that was a comforting thought for a minute until Annabeth remembered that Grover had wanted to split them up. But Thalia had also said she wasn’t leaving, and she’d sounded sure about that. Everything was so confusing, and Annabeth didn’t know how to figure it out. It didn’t help that her brain felt dizzy from being tired.
It took a while for either of them to talk again, to the point where Annabeth had almost drifted off to sleep for real. When Thalia spoke again her voice was quiet, so much so that Annabeth almost thought she dreamed it.
“She looks relaxed. Like a normal kid on a camping trip or something. That’s why I like watching her sleep.”
Luke sighed, heavy and deep.
“You should get some too,” he said, not really acknowledging Thalia’s words.
“You need to rest too,” Thalia said, lightly, “Grover’s keeping watch.”
Luke snorted again at that, but it was much less humorous this time. Thalia didn’t seem amused, anyway.
“Come on. You’re exhausted.”
“I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch,” Luke said. Thalia made an annoyed noise, but didn’t say anything else. Annabeth felt someone lie down next to her, felt light fingers adjust the jacket she was using as a blanket so it covered her arms more fully.
Annabeth didn’t want to sleep. She knew there would be nightmares waiting for her the second she slipped out of consciousness, and she didn’t want to see them again.
But they would be walking a lot tomorrow, and she couldn’t walk if she was tired. And if she couldn’t walk then she would slow them down even more than she already was.
So instead of resisting it anymore, she let the exhaustion wash over her, pulling her into bad dreams. It would be okay in the morning. Her family would be there when she woke up, and she wasn’t going to let them down.
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torchiiko · 2 years
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randall rambling time (Long warning)
i love randy! hes super fun and genuinely a good hero! aside from standard ninja duties (aka putting himself at risk to protect the town), there are plenty of times hes gone the extra mile with his selflessness! my favorites are the times where he benefits more from being selfish and still does the right thing purely out of the good of his heart <3
especially the times where hes not obligated to by ninja duties!! like when he and howard snuck out to see a movie, he couldve totally gotten away with it and left heidi in trouble with her parents but fessed up for her sake. it wouldve been so much easier to not say anything, to just walk away and be free of consequence but it wouldve made an innocent person take the fall for something he did, so he told the truth instead!
plus hes super silly and funny and he seems like a cool guy to be friends with :) i love the way he says satchel sometimes?? my type of humor fr! i also love that he makes silly jokes and one liners all the time,, sometimes hes a very cool hero and sometimes hes just a silly little ninja and we love that about him
but he is so very stupid,, yeah hes just a highschooler but he was trusted with an 800 year old ninja mask and book and given dozens of weapons, he could really afford to use his brain a little bit more yknow??
nearly every single episode he asks the nomicon for help only to horribly misunderstand it, often assuming its agreeing with him for some reason? the mental gymnastics this kid does... the nomicon is so very obvious sometimes and he still manages to get it completely wrong like. bro. if the doodles in your sentient(??) book are facepalming at your conclusion i think you might wanna reconsider
never forget the time nomicon literally said "dont go in someone elses house" and randy went "well mcfist doesnt have a house he has a mansion.. so i should totally go inside". or the time it said "an enemy at peace should be left at peace" and he was like "yes thank you! ill never be at peace with mcfist here" and then went out of his way to antagonize mcfist.. randall please
disclaimer this isnt like. a legit criticism of randys character it just physically hurts how dumb he can be sometimes qwq i think the jokes about how he gets even the most blatant advice wrong are funny! yet youd think with how often he misinterprets the nomicon, he would try to think a little more before running off having only taken the words at face value...
at least he learns from his mistakes!! every time he realizes he messed up, he does try to correct it! he apologizes when he needs to, he owns up to his behavior! it was especially sweet when he destanked rachael by parodying her appreciation song back to her :(( for the most part, randy learns from his experiences and it shapes him into a better ninja, and a better person as a whole
and while that wouldve been a great place to leave it, i do wanna mention howards bad influence real quick, particularly in the snowklahoma episode. randy made the choice to bring julian with them bc julian was freaked out (understandably so after ghoulian almost got him (but he was too shaken to communicate that properly imo)). howards annoyed and their plans didnt account for an extra person so julian kind of gets in the way but then they just??? abandon him in an ice maze????
julian made it very clear he was afraid to be alone!! he literally said "bad things happen when im alone" he is visibly anxious everytime he gets left alone!! and they leave him in the most isolated place they probably couldve!! randy is partially at fault for agreeing to ditch julian, but howard takes most of the blame for convincing randy in the first place. i bet if it werent for howard, randy wouldve found a solution that wasnt so cruel. like at the very least they couldve sent julian to hang out with someone else!
julian seemed so happy just to be included :( and the One Thing he wanted was to not be alone! how many times does a guy gotta say "im afraid, dont leave me alone, i dont wanna be alone, bad things happen when im alone" before you stop leaving him alone??? mans got so much trauma bc of howard (and randy, to a degree. still dont know why he ever thought bringing the power ball to julians party was a good idea)
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thatgoblin · 3 years
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Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy x Rookie Reader Headcannons
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Leon
At first you were in awe of your lead. THE Leon S. Kennedy was showing you the ropes and helping train you for the job you'd dreamed of. Hero worship was common in this line of work, but you did your best to keep it to a minimum. You didn't want to embarrass yourself after all.
In place of that hero worship came this insatiable need to make Leon proud. Whether it was memorizing and nailing every written exam or physical test, you wanted to earn his praise.
You worked hard, harder than almost everyone it seemed. Leon never saw you slacking and saw how serious you were about the job. Protecting people was what you had always wanted to do with your life.
So when the grades came back that you weren't doing so hot, you were mortified. How could you let this happen? You didn't slack off, you studied everything you could get your hands on, hell you watched instructional videos on YouTube before bed! But you still weren't making a passing grade.
You thought you would be okay with the physical part, but no matter how hard you trained, no matter the extra hours you put in, you just couldn't seem to get what everyone else did. The moves were simple, why couldn't you just grasp them?
The only thing you thought you had going for you was the firing range, but even that was less than acceptable. Every time you tried to do something the pressure got to you and you messed up. You were so busy trying to make sure you didn't fail Leon that you were failing yourself.
It was when you were called into your commanding officer's office to speak about your grades that you were sure you were done. You were given two weeks that were used for break to study and practice and retest. But you'd already had nearly four months and the best you could do was subpar.
You were in your room, packing your bags because you knew you were going to be kicked out of the program when Leon showed up.
"Hey, Kid, you leaving for break?" He asked as he leaned against the door frame of your dorm.
"Uh. . . No," you said, hanging your head in shame. "I'm flunking out. Figured that it would just be easier to pack my bag now than wait later till I was officially asked to leave."
"What? How are you flunking?" Leon asked, straightening up. "I watch you every day and you're one of the hardest working cadets I've seen."
"Hard work doesn't mean much when you can't apply it correctly," you said. "I can't get the fighting technique right, the written exams are all a bust, and I can't even shoot a gun right. I don't deserve to be here."
"Have you asked for help or for someone to tutor you? That's what I'm here for, you know," he said, moving into the room to sit on the bed next to you.
You stared at the floor as you took a deep breath, feeling all the insecurities come rushing through to the surface.
"I didn't want to disappoint you," you said. "I mean, I wanted to do it all myself without help. I wanted to make you proud that you were my lead. If I was always asking for help, what good does that do? It shows that I can't do something on my own and need my hand held like some baby."
Leon sighed as he folded his hands together between his knees.
"I get it. I do. Wanting to make your leader proud and show how good you are, but we're a team here. No one is by themselves. You're only so good as your team is and if you're not doing well then that's a reflection on us," he said.
"Oh god, are you guys getting in trouble because of me?" You asked, looking at him horrified that you were possibly making things hard for your team.
"No, no, I mean. . . We're a team for a reason. You have to lean on us and trust us so when we need to, we can lean on you and trust you. If you need help studying or practicing outside of classes, I'll help you. That's why I'm here. It can be hard to ask for help in any situation cause it means you're admitting to a weakness, but that's okay. That's how we get stronger as individuals and as a team," Leon said.
You nod with a sigh. "I have two weeks to get better before I officially am asked to leave. I don't know if I can do it on my own," you said. "Can you help me?"
"Of course. I've got your back, Kid," Leon said, giving you a soft smile.
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Chris
The B.S.A.A. was not for rookies, but they needed recruits so here you were. They provided training on weapons, protocol, how to work the gear, basically everything. Because they wanted everyone to be a well oiled machine out in the field, they made sure if you couldn't cut it that you didn't make it out of training. It was life and death and while they needed the hands, they weren't sending people out to die.
The trainers rotated to take classes of trainees. You were lucky enough to get the legendary Chris Redfield for your class leader. He would be teaching everything and making sure that everyone was ready. You had heard of him before, knowing that he was a weathered agent and could almost do anything was daunting.
Which was probably why you tried to avoid him at all costs in one on one situations. He wasn't mean or an ass, but he was intimidating. His stature and history were more than enough to show he knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn't want to feel stupid or embarrass yourself, so you kept him at a distance as you worked almost on your own.
Sure there were classes and work that you were trained in, but just the fear of being the weak link in front of others was hindering you. All of your tests and physical training was mediocre at best. Sure there were people that weren't going to cut it obviously, but you were much closer to their end of the spectrum than the other end that was running circles around you.
It wasn't that you couldn't do it. You could, but sometimes you froze up because your hands did something your mind didn't want to do or nerves made you stutter and stumble over your words. Everyone in the class at least had a background in the military or the police force or FBI or CIA or some other group that was similar to this.
You on the other hand did not. You came from a more technical background rather than a physical one. While you were miles ahead on the written tests, the physical ones were going to kill your career.
So when the notice went out that you were on the chopping block to be let go unless you could prove you were capable of being in the field, you weren't surprised.
Half of you wanted to keep trying, but the other half was telling you to pack up and go. You weren't unique or special, so why bother to continue to try?
It was when you were were working with one of the large guns by the shooting range, that Chris approached you. Before then, you two hadn't said a word to each other outside of the classes or even directly to each other.
So when his large frame took a seat across from you, folding his hands on the table after setting a file next to him, watching you with the gun, you weren't sure what to think.
"Hi," you said, freezing as you looked from the gun to him.
"Y/N, right?" He asked. You nodded as you set the pieces of gun on the table. "Why are you here?"
Oh Jesus, no. Why now? Why here?
"Uh," you said, blinking rapidly as your brain tried to come up with an answer. "Because I wanna help people."
"That's usually the answer I get," he said, sitting back to let his hands drop into his lap. "That or 'to kill bio weapons.' That's also a popular one."
"Yeah?" You said, unsure of what he was getting at.
"But I don't think it's why you're here," Chris said. "Because I think you don't know why you're here." Opening the file, you could see it was all information about you. Your background, schooling, family, credit score, even online usernames. They had everything. "When I was looking through the potential trainee's info, you struck me as odd. It's not exactly an every day thing that we get people who are more tech inclined rather than have a police or military background, but it happens. Usually they wash out though and end up in our research department."
"But I don't want to be in the research department," you said, frowning. Was he going to push you over to that section of the organization? You didn't want to be there though, otherwise you would have applied there.
"Every time I talk to someone and they have the chance to go to research after speaking to them about it, they take it," Chris said. "They figured out they can't cut doing the ground work so they move to a different field, but not you. I see you everyday in training, working your ass off to keep up with everyone and you almost make it. Not quite, but almost. Almost isn't going to cut it out on a mission."
"I know, I just. . . I'm working on it," you said, trying not to sound hateful or rude as your hands started to move on autopilot, putting your gun back together. "I'm really trying and I just can't get over this stupid hump that's holding me back."
"What's that? What's holding you back?" Chris asked.
"Me. I'm holding myself back," you said with a sigh. "I second guess everything because everyone around me has the experience that I don't, but I know I can do it. I just choke when it's time to act."
"I know you have some experience that they don't," Chris said. You nodded, understanding what he was talking about.
"I was a kid when it happened, I could barely call it working experience," you said, pushing the empty magazine into the gun.
"It was for Sherry Birkin," Chris said. "Raccoon City for a 9 year old isn't something to sniff at. From what the reports said, you were by yourself for three days before you made it out."
"Yeah," you said, nodding as you moved to the handgun next, disassembling it easily. "Hid in my apartment till I saw military trucks driving by then ran out."
"You lost your whole family to what we're training you to fight," Chris said, keeping his eyes on your hands as your fingers moved without faltering as you put the gun back together. "You were a kid when that happened. I say it still counts for experience that no one else really has. You know what you're doing with the infected and you know what it's like in the aftermath. We need people who know what it's like so that we can stop it from happening again."
"So what do you propose?" You asked, looking up as you finished putting the handgun back together. "After school training? Tutoring? Or do you want me to be counselor for survivors or shove me off to R and D?"
Chris chuckled as he closed the folder to look up at your face.
"I'm not gonna cut you," he said. "You know what you're doing and you're right. You're hang up is yourself. I'm gonna work with you to get over it. It's probably one the easiest things to work through really."
"You mean I can stay?" You asked, relaxing back into the chair, not even realizing you had grown so tense.
"Yeah. I just watched you take those weapons apart and put them back together in record time without even pausing," he said, pointing to the guns in front of you. "I want to work with you, Y/N. This isn't going to be an easy fight, but I really believe you have what it takes to be a good B.S.A.A. agent."
"Thank you, Sir," you said, smiling softly. "I appreciate that."
"You're welcome. We'll start some one on one combat training tomorrow before class. You're going to be working double what the others are, but it'll be for the best in the long run," he said.
"Whatever it takes, I'll do what I need to," you said.
"Glad to here it. Now, while we're here in the shooting range, let's test your aim."
303 notes · View notes
fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years
Note
for the prompts: #70?
70 — “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”
buddie fluff!
from this prompt list
“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?”
They’re in Buck’s kitchen, Chris sitting on the couch catching the end of their movie, while Buck and Eddie wash and dry their dishes, when Buck blurts the question out suddenly. Eddie pauses mid-wiping down a plate, and raises his eyebrow, turning slowly to give Buck an amused look.
“That’s a question,” He says after a moment. Buck flushes a little and rolls his eyes.
They’d been talking about a call they had this morning. It was one of those old married couples that always hit Buck right in the gut. He had sat to the side on the curb with the wife, while they carried her husband to the ambulance, and listened to her tell him their love story.
He didn’t even try to hide his tears as he climbed back into the truck with the rest of the team.
“I’m sure I will. I’m not interested in looking for it right now, though,” Eddie says, smiling over at Buck. “I’ve got everything I need right here, you know?”
Buck turns to look over at Christopher, smiling at the look of his face, transfixed on the movie.
“Yeah, I know,” Buck nods, turning off the sink and grabbing an extra towel to help Eddie dry.
“It just — don’t you get lonely sometimes? It’s been so long since I lived with somebody else. Sometimes I just think...it’d be nice to have someone to come home to.”
Buck’s starting to think maybe he shouldn’t have gone ahead and had that extra beer. He’s not sure what’s gotten him thinking like this. He and Taylor decided they were better as friends a long time ago — and since Eddie had broken up with Ana around the same time — they just filled the space for each other. He hasn’t really felt lonely in a while. He doesn’t really want someone else to be here...he wants Eddie to stay.
Eddie looks at him for a moment before he grabs the last plate from his hand and puts it away. He sighs and leans against the counter, reaching for his beer.
“You could always move in with me. Then you can come home to us,” Eddie says, like a joke. Except it’s not; he’s mentioned moving in to Buck at least a dozen times over the last couple of months, since they both got out of relationships and started spending almost every non-working moment in each other’s homes. Buck never seems to think he’s serious though.
“Right,” Buck chuckles, ducking his head. When he looks back up at Eddie, he’s a little shyer and quieter. It’s the look he gets when he starts to doubt himself, and it always makes Eddie want to reach out and shake some sense into him.
“It’s just different I guess. I want to come home to someone who loves me.”
That hits Eddie like a punch.
His body tenses up and he feels a wave of emotions building up in his chest. He’s hurt, for one, and angry.
“Buck,” He starts, running a hand over his face. He crosses his arms and sets his bottle back against the edge of the counter, glancing out the window. The city lights calm him a little bit.
“Why do you think I keep asking you to move in?” He asks eventually, his voice soft. Buck tilts his head to the side and shrugs.
“To save money?”
Eddie looks at him, unimpressed. It makes Buck shrink in on himself a bit.
“You don’t think it’s maybe because I want you there?” Buck blinks at him.
“Eddie…”
“No, listen to me, Buck. I don’t think — I don’t think you understand.”
Eddie looks down again and brings a hand up to his face, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose as he thinks. His head’s spinning a little bit — not drunk, just overwhelmed and dizzy — because of Buck. Because of all of these feelings he has about Buck that have been building up inside of him for years. Because it’s getting harder for him to pretend that he just wants to be friends with him.
These last months have been nice, the way they’ve slid perfectly into the empty spaces in each other’s lives. But any time they have a conversation like this, Eddie feels that fear spike up in him, the fear that he’s about to lose one of the best things that have ever happened to him. Sometimes he thinks he should just tell him, just rip the band-aid off and finally expose the softest, most vulnerable part of himself that he’s been guarding all these years. He knows Buck would never leave him — especially not over the fact that Eddie loves him. But things would change, they’d have to. And that’s the part that holds him back most of the time.
But tonight feels different. He knows Buck wants this as much as he does — he has to. But Buck will never be the one to make the first move, because he’s weighed down by his past: by the abandonment, the neglect, the fear that he’s too much for anyone to stick around for.
Eddie’s not sure how he doesn’t get it at this point.
“After everything we've gone through together, you still don’t think I love you?”
“I know you love me, Eddie—“
“No, Buck,” Eddie says again, and his voice is worn and exasperated. “No, you don’t. I love you. Christopher and I are here with you almost every night we have available. You keep the cereal we like stocked in your pantry just in case we’re here for breakfast. I keep those weird vegan protein bars you like. You have a drawer in my room with sweatpants and t-shirts and a spare uniform just in case. I broke up with Ana and haven’t even thought about another person in months because...I don’t want anyone else.”
Buck swallows hard.
“I don’t understand…”
“I’m in love with you, Evan.”
“...Eddie...”
“I mean it. And you don’t — you don’t have to say anything back or...or try to let me down gently, or whatever. I just...I need you to know. You always say you’re alone and that no one ever really wants you. I need you to know you’re wrong.”
Neither of them says anything for a moment, and Eddie busies himself with his beer, trying desperately not to let the panic take over him, trying desperately not to feel like he has to pack up his stuff and grab Christopher and get out of there immediately. He’ll give Buck space if he needs it, but only if he asks.
God, he hopes he doesn’t ask.
“I love you, too,” Buck says eventually, quietly. Eddie looks up at him. “I’ve just...I really like you, you know? This thing we have with each other. It’s special...and it’s different. And I’ve always known that, so I just...I never wanted to risk losing it. I’m so used to people I love leaving, Eddie.”
“I’m never leaving you,” Eddie says instantly, confidently. Buck stares at him wide-eyed, before the softest smile Eddie’s ever seen spreads on his face.
“I know.”
Eddie’s pretty sure that they should kiss, pretty sure that that’s the thing that they’re supposed to do next, but he can’t move. He’s fixed to his spot against the counter and Buck seems fixed to his spot in front of the sink, because all they can do is stare at each other, grinning like two fools in love — because that’s what they are, aren’t they?
Eventually, Christopher’s movie ends, and he calls out for Buck and Eddie.
“Dad, Buck, can we watch another one?” He calls, a hint of mischief in his voice. He knows he’s usually only allowed one movie and then he and Eddie have to head home after dinner. Buck grins.
“How about I pack a bag and we head back to yours and we can start another one there. Maybe I can even...stay a couple of days?”
“You moving in already?” Eddie teases and Buck rolls his eyes.
“Well, you’ve only been begging me to for months now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Go pack a bag and I’ll get Chris ready.”
Buck nods and then turns to run up the stairs to grab his bag — but he stops. He turns around and looks at Eddie, a small smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes, cheeks a little red.
“Um,” He mumbles, taking two large steps to close the gap between them and ducking to the side. He leans in quickly and presses a shy kiss to Eddie’s cheek and then steps away.
Eddie stares at him, a little stunned. He’s never known Buck to be shy with physical affection, especially not with someone he likes, but it’s endearing and sweet and breaking Eddie’s brain a little with the realization that they’re actually doing it. They’re crossing this line.
Buck spins around and disappears up the stairs into his loft before Eddie can say anything, leaving his mind speeding a thousand miles a second into the future, imagining all of their future kisses, their future dinners, Buck moving in officially, no longer having to travel 20 minutes to see each other, no longer spending the night alone in his bed wishing Buck was there with him, waking up to his face in the morning, kissing him goodnight.
Maybe they’ll even get married. Eddie would like that. He’s pretty sure Buck would too.
Not that he’s in any kind of rush.
He’s got everything he could ever want right here, right now.
181 notes · View notes
Sometimes You Have No Option
Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety
TWs: scar mentions, mostly just vague nothing too graphic at all, very quick mention of the ‘heat death of the universe‘, it’s one throwaway line but just to be safe!
Summary: Virgil wonders what Roman gets up to on his adventures that leaves him battered and bruised. What he finds isn’t what he expected....
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There was always this unpleasant feeling that followed Virgil whenever Roman came back from traversing the mindscape on an ‘adventure’; sometimes he’d come back bruised and bashed, other times he’d sport a limp, but nearly every time, Roman would come home with new scars.
Virgil couldn’t understand the appeal of it, though far be it for him to say anything about it. Sure, maybe it did hurt a little seeing someone he cared about come back each time more banged up than before. 
But that's none of his business, right?
Virgil wondered just what Roman got up to each time he went out. He’d never seen the things Roman could conjure outside of the main mindscape; some called it the ‘imagination’ but they were already within the imagination technically. No, what Roman would conjure was more like a simulation within the mindscape, as far as Virgil understood it. Like adding an extension onto a home…. Only to tear it down once you were done with it in the end. 
Perhaps calling them ‘daydreams’ was a more accurate comparison.
There were many times Virgil would let his own imagination run wild with the kind of journeys Roman must have gone on. Forests and kingdoms, perhaps a seafaring adventure if Remus agreed to not set the kraken on him. Or maybe he branched out even more. Something like the spaceports of Treasure Planet, or something more akin to a spiritual journey you’d find in a Ghibli movie. Who knew what Roman was up to most days, honestly.
It was a lazy Saturday in the mindscape when Virgil finally decided to ask Roman about it.
He hadn’t necessarily planned to do so, but Logan and Patton were both busy elsewhere, and all Virgil had to do was watch TV and contemplate the inevitable heat death of the universe when Roman had returned. Mismatched eyes latched onto the creative side as the prince made his way to the kitchen. He winced as he watched Roman root around for frozen peas and press the bag to his left cheek.
The injury was just out of Virgil’s sight, but as Roman turned and made eye contact, he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming. Despite the way the sight made Virgil’s lips pinch into a frown, Roman met him with a smile that made his stomach do flips as he made his way over to the sofa,
“What’s that look for, Woe Troham?”
Virgil snorted, “Wow, we’re getting obscure with the nicknames now? You’re really earning that extra credit in Emo Studies, Princey.”
Roman rolled his eyes fondly and sat down next to Virgil, careful of the anxious side’s bunched up legs, “You do realise we ALL went through Thomas’ emo phase, right?”.
Virgil rolled his eyes, “Whatever...”, he was about to leave the conversation there when he remembered the matter at hand, “Hey, uh, Roman?”
“That’s what they call me, yes.”, the creative side smirked playfully, “Typically preceded by ‘Prince’ but I’ll cut you some slack this once.”. Virgil wanted to slap that smirk away. Or maybe smooch it. The jury was still out on that one.
He sighed in mock annoyance, “Can we cut out the nonsense for once, Romano?”
He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle at the insulted huff Roman let out. 
“Okay, seriously, I was gonna ask what happened,”, Virgil continued when Roman fixed him with a perplexed frown, “Y’know, to cause that.” .
He freed one hand from his hoodie paws to gesture to the bruise under the frozen peas in Roman’s hand. Said creative side shrugged, “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I’ve had far worse before.”.
Oh great, because that’s what Virgil was absolutely dying to hear. 
The words left his mouth before the anxious side could stop them, “.. Can I see?”
Okay, that had to have crossed a line, surely. Those scars were probably super traumatic or heavy with meaning, or perhaps they were-
“Okay.”, Roman shrugged. He was already hauling his shirt off by the time Virgil had registered how casual Roman was about this whole thing. He was about to voice his confusion when Roman’s shirt fluttered to the floor; leaving Virgil with a moment of gay crisis, but even more so a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach.
Roman’s entire torso was covered in scars. Some were fresh, likely only days old, while others were already paling with time. The anxious side had no idea where his hands obtained the audacity to trail themselves along Roman’s skin without permission, but the creative side seemed content to let him continue.
Surprisingly confident fingertips traced valleys and trenches of healed and healing skin, only ever stopping on each route if Roman protested. Virgil had no idea why Roman let him even do something that felt this intimate in the first place, but the question that bubbled out of his throat instead was, “What…. Happened to you?”
He expected Roman to turn away, to dramatically cover himself once more, perhaps muttering a barely audible “some things are left unsaid” or “it’s…. Personal”, and then he’d retire to his room while Virgil did the same and let his mind swim in it’s usual cloud of anxious self depreciation. 
What Virgil did not expect was for Roman to immediately start pointing them out and listing every single cause like it was his grocery list.
“Well!”, Roman began, pointing to a scar on his left hip, “This is one I got from accidentally laying down on a light bulb.”
The prince pointed to more scars as he went, all too oblivious of Virgil’s stunned silence, “This one here is from running through corn stalks with my shirt off, and that one was a mosquito bite I scratched, which yes I know you shouldn’t do that, but you know how dreadfully those itch.This one here is from the time I tried to fight a goose- Oh! And this one I procured from falling out of a window during an impromptu tickle fight with Remus-” 
“Why does anyone try to fight a goose?!”, Virgil blurted out. Of all the rapidfire information his brain just tried to absorb, he wasn’t sure why that was what his brain latched onto, but he couldn’t exactly take back the question now.
The anxious side watched Roman’s expression take on a distant, stoic edge, but having known him so well by now Virgil knew the prince’s fake dramatic long distance stare a mile away. “Sometimes,”, Roman began, and Virgil did his best not to give a fond huff of annoyed laughter at the creative side’s faux drama tone, “The goose leaves you no option-”
Virgil couldn’t stifle the peal of laughter that slipped through his teeth and betrayed his irritated facade. The whole conversation had been an emotional rollercoaster but Virgil was mostly just happy that even if Roman was constantly getting into scrapes, at least it was nothing overly serious. By the time Virgil had stopped laughing, he realised Roman had also fallen victim to the case of the giggles.
“You’re ridiculous, goddamit, Roman!”, Virgil snarked weakly, the gentle smile he wore betraying any attempt at true irritation. Roman simply continued to beam at Virgil, brilliant and bright, a beacon of pure adoration. 
“That’s a rather funny way to pronounce ‘handsome and dashing’, but I’ll take it!”
It’s unfair that Roman got to be so well put together while Virgil was just standing there, hands still resting on Roman’s bare chest, blushing up an absolute storm. Something about the way Roman smiled at him - so gentle and adoring - made Virgil want to do something crazy. 
Like kissing him.
Yeah.
He should kiss him.
No, wait, he absolutely should NOT do that.
In fact, Virgil caught himself just as he was leaning towards Roman, intending to turn away. However, Roman’s arms snaked their way smoothly around his waist, keeping him close but still remaining loose enough that Virgil could break away if he wanted. 
“.... Virgil, can I ask you something?”
Roman’s voice was hesitant, a little less sure of himself than his expression implied. To save himself from embarrassment by not subjecting Roman to any barely passable attempts at a verbal affirmation, Virgil nodded bashfully. 
Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil’s lips then settled back into half lidded eye contact, a small quirk of laughter dancing across the prince’s features.
“Am I the only one who’s been subtly flirting this entire time? Because if so, I am going to be utterly scandalized.”
Even Virgil was surprised by the relieved laughter he let out; it was the ugly kind that gave away just how smitten he was with Roman. He tapped his fingers against Roman’s chest, humming playfully.
“Hmmm, looks like you’ll just have to be scandalized, pretty boy.”, he teased.
Roman’s shocked expression was too cute, how could Virgil resist? The anxious side sighed out a low chuckle, rolled his eyes, and lent forward to reward him with a much earned kiss.
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We love us a couple of pining dorks
Based on this post and so I tag @count-woe-laf as promised!
148 notes · View notes
aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
A Sea of Fragments II
Part I here
Word Count: 2,516
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: Second chapter here we go! I’ve been very excited to continue this series, and I hope you find it as fun to read as it was to write. I already have mapped out a plan for where the story is going, though I’m not sure how many chapters it will take. We’ll see how it goes!
Dear Signora,
I am happy to inform you that the task you sent me has been completed. The fortune teller, though they still refuse to reveal their name, appears to be somewhat legitimate. I’m not sure what you’re going to do with this information, but I hope you’re prepared for a difficult time, as…
 Scaramouche sighed, putting his pen down, although not after scribbling haphazardly on the paper in front of him. It had been two weeks since he’d first recruited the mysterious clairvoyant, and altogether nothing of consequence had happened. Not for lack of trying, of course; the Harbinger had taken to banging on the door of an inn almost every day, demanding that the unwilling coworker inside come out and do something. Honestly Scaramouche was surprised he hadn’t been asked to vacate the premises at this point, though of course that wouldn’t’ve stopped him. Still it was becoming a tiring ritual, and though Scaramouche himself wasn’t entirely sure what he’d meant when he suggested you work with him, he was certain this wasn’t it. Something had to happen, and soon. If not, well the Harbinger wasn’t above kidnapping unwilling colleagues; regardless of their threats to burn down his living space.
“At the very least I’m getting them out of that damned inn.” Scaramouche muttered to himself, for the time wasted was appalling, the inn being located not in your own village, the closest villager to the camp, but in one farther away. Standing up, crumpling the unfinished letter in his hands and throwing it into the trash, Scaramouche walked out of his tent and towards the now all too familiar road. He wasn’t doing this anymore.
Walking along the road, unfortunately there were no waypoints in villages this small, Scaramouche thought over the whole matter once more. He’d not expected you to agree to his offer of working with him, especially not after supposedly reading his future. Nor had he expected to truly believe you. And yet something about your demeanor had certainly changed since you’d looked into his future, accepting his proposal aside. Scaramouche wasn’t one to pry about such things, he didn’t really care what you saw in his future, especially after your revelation that doing so wasn’t an exact science. He had to admit though that the longer this went on the more he wondered what exactly you had seen. What had you seen to make you agree to his proposal, then refuse to even open your door to him? Or had you simply said yes on a whim and were now regretting your decision?
It was baffling to Scaramouche, and what he didn’t know or understand irritated him. He was a harbinger, and though you might’ve been blessed by the gods or some such thing, you’d still agreed to work with him. He’d see this through, if it was the last thing he did.
 The inn was just as rundown as it had been the day before, and Scaramouche’s feet dragged as he made his way up the stairs towards the offending door. Knocking as softly as he could, not wanting to bother the other rooms and get kicked out, he called out. “It’s time for you to get to work. You’ve had two weeks to recover from whatever shock you’d had in the woods, and now you must uphold your promise.”
 You stared at the door, still lying on the bed, the place where you’d spent most of your time recently. This routine had played out for two weeks, and you were becoming tired of it. Honestly, couldn’t the idiot realize when he wasn’t wanted? You thought that you’d made it clear enough.
Ignoring the banging for a moment you stared up at the ceiling. Two weeks, for two weeks you’d agonized over what you’d seen. What you’d expected to be dulled by time still came as a shock, and if you closed your eyes the image of you smiling at the Harbinger danced around in front of you. You didn’t regret your decision to work with Scaramouche, the determination for a better future still lay firmly in your heart; but you hadn’t realized how much personal agony it would cost. Certainly your now conflicting feelings weren’t helping, as you couldn’t help but wonder if your sudden awareness of the person now knocking on your door was caused by anything genuine, or simply by what you saw might come to pass.
The knocking was louder now, and you groaned, dragging yourself out of bed, thankful that you’d at least had the sense to have changed out of your pajamas. You were going to answer him today. It was what you’d been telling yourself all morning. You couldn’t live at this inn forever, the bill was beginning to rack up terribly. And, conflicting feelings or not, you weren’t about to steal away in the middle of the night. That would be perhaps the stupidest move one could make when dealing with a Fatui harbinger to whom one had made a promise.
 Scaramouche let out a huff of surprise and relief as the door suddenly began to make way. This was some progress. Usually your early morning conversation was shouted through the closed door. Although you barely appeared from behind the door at first Scaramouche could see the improvement in your health. At least now you didn’t look to be constantly seconds away from once more passing out. As if reading these less than generous thoughts you scowled. Looking around, as if making sure there was no one around, you grabbed Scaramouche by the wrist and dragged him into the room, closing the door with a firm click behind you.
Though the inn was certainly bedraggled, the room you were housed in seemed nice enough. The furniture was sparse, only a bed, a small table, a chair, and a pair of sad looking dressers. Sitting down cross legged on the bed you pointed towards the chair. Smirking, Scaramouche sat down.
“Are we not talking today?” He asked snidely.
“Nice to know your personality hasn’t improved.” You shot back.
“Maybe I’d be a bit more amenable if you had left this room at all in the past two weeks. Do you even eat?”
“Thank you for so graciously caring for my wellbeing, but I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
“We had an agreement.”
“I know.”
“Then why won’t you hold to it?” Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, his temper wearing increasingly thin. He didn’t like yelling, found it beneath him; yet right now he wanted nothing more than to find some secluded area and scream. Letting out a hiss of a breath he shook his head. “Why did you let me in if you won’t even look at me?”
As if on cue your head snapped forwards. Although it seemed as if you were about to say something your expression quickly shifted into something unreadable. You said nothing, simply staring at him, that odd, opaque expression leading him to silence as well. The transformation was so sudden that it managed to throw the Harbinger completely off guard, and he found himself scrutinizing you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking of.
As you continued to stare at him Scaramouche realized that he was losing time. Shaking his head slightly, he spoke again.
“I want you to move into the camp.”
“Over my dead body.” You replied venomously, the spell obviously broken. “I refuse to live surrounded by members of the Fatui.”
“Well then where are you going to live, you can’t stay here forever.”
“I’ll… figure something out.”
“I’m offering you a solution to your housing problem. You can even live on the edge of the camp; but I refuse to continue this song and dance of walking six miles just to get you up. Consider it part of your work benefits.”
“What a lovely benefit, being housed against your will.”
“You made it perfectly clear you have nowhere else to go. You abandoned your village, you’ve holed yourself up in a random inn, you made a promise, an agreement, to work for me. Have you forgotten that?”
“Of course I haven’t!” You snapped, once more tilting your head towards the wall. “How could I forget after what…” You trailed off.
“After what?” Scaramouche pressed, but you shook your head, merely glancing at him once more.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does if it’s affecting our bargain. Something must’ve happened. You’ve been acting, strangely.”
“How would you know how I act?” You scoffed. “Anyways, my behavior is none of your business. I promised to work with you, and I will, if only to stop this stupid conversation. But I won’t move in with the Fatui. They’re the worst sort of organization. Besides,” you added, voice lowering slightly. “I’m not comfortable staying in unfamiliar places.”
There was a pause in the conversation, as Scaramouche wracked his brain. He needed to get this to work. He couldn’t stand this; no matter what, he’d make sure this conversation didn’t drag on any longer.
“Fine then,” Scaramouche finally sighed, “let’s make a deal.”
“We seem to be making an awful lot of those.”
“It’s the only way apparently to get you to do anything. Here’s the deal. I arrange it so you’re allowed to use your own furniture and belongings in your tent. You can use one of the extra harbinger tents, they should be big enough for that. If I promise to do so, will you promise to move out?”
“I’m not letting random Fatui members sack my house, not even on your orders.”
“Then do it with the. I’ll just send some men to carry the heavier furniture, you can handle the rest. Agreed?”
You paused, staring at him, expression much more readable this time, being one of distrust. Still, eventually you nodded your head and Scaramouche finally began to feel some sort of relief.
“Good. Now pack whatever you have. Thankfully it’s early enough to have this finished today.”
And with that he stood up, not bothering to look behind at you as he walked across the room and out the door.
 --------- 
Scaramouche entered the tent, nearly running into you in the process. You glanced back at him, letting out a quick “sorry”, before scurrying over towards your cot – your bed had ended up being too bulky to move.
“I see you’ve finished.” Scaramouche spoke up, feeling slightly awkward, not sure how to converse with you in a way that wasn’t arguing. Luckily you didn’t seem to notice, nodding enthusiastically.
“It’s so odd to seem my dresser on the grass floor.” You giggled softly.
The Harbinger stared for a moment, realizing that this was the first time he’d seen a genuine smile out of you. It was almost transformative, and for a moment he found himself forgetting all the haggling it took for you to get here. Walking towards you, slightly unaware of what he was doing, he stopped a few inches away from you. You seemed caught unaware, and as you stared at him your smile slowly faded, instead replaced once more by that odd expression you carried when you look at him. This time you seemed a bit more agitated however, and instead of lingering you shook your head slightly, walking sideways towards the dresser you’d just mentioned. Suddenly aware of himself Scaramouche mimicked the gesture, stepping back towards the tent opening.
“Well,” he said, voice stilted, “I’m glad that we’ve finally resolved this. I’ll let them send dinner to your tent tonight, though I expect you to eat with everyone else afterwards. I’ll see how you are later.” And, not wanting to start another argument and still trying to process what had just happened, Scaramouche marched out of the tent.
The late afternoon air was finally beginning to cool down, and Scaramouche took in several deep breaths. Not wanting to deal with the presence of various underlings he made his way out of the camp and towards the woods, the woods in which, about five miles away from here, he’d met you for the first time. Now, leaning against a tree, he thought back on that night, on everything that had happened since then. Mostly he thought about the odd experience in the tent.
Scaramouche hadn’t really meant to walk up to you, he found being the proximity of people odious most of the time. The action was completely instinctive, devoid of any motive to intimidate or to scare. It was just, it was just the fact that he’d liked your smile, it had drawn him in, literally, apparently. As had your expression, what was that expression? He wanted to ask about it again, wanted to know what was going on. This whole experience was alien to Scaramouche, your interactions all the more so. A normal underling would’ve never talked back, would’ve never forced concessions out of him. And yet that wasn’t the only abnormal thing. A normal underling would’ve never been so important, and, more importantly, would’ve never drawn such a strange reaction out of him. A reaction he was still feeling the effects of.
It wasn’t simply walking up to you, no, nothing was that simple. It was how he’d felt, the way he didn’t mind being that close, wanted it even. The way a part of him was somewhat disappointed when you – rightfully – drew away. Even now he still felt those lingering feelings, that alien want to be closer to someone, to learn about them, to… what? That was the beginning and the end of it, wasn’t it? He wanted something, and he didn’t even know what that something was. Information he supposed. It was always that in the end; something that he could use, a bargaining chip. Maybe he just was getting tired of these concessions.
 It was dark by the time Scaramouche returned to your tent. You were slouched forward on your cot, a book held up to your face, your attention utterly captivated. Looking up at the shuffling of feet you saw the Harbinger staring at you, as opaque as before. Although your initial instinct was once more to look away you instead met his gaze, letting out the faintest crack of a smile.
“Thank you for doing this.”
“It was nothing. If you’re going to be my clairvoyant assistant, well, this was for the best.”
Your whispered something and Scaramouche leaned forward.
“What?”
You repeated the word again and the Harbinger’s brow furrowed.
“What does that name have to do with anything?”
“It’s mine, idiot.”
“You could’ve just said that.” Scaramouche scoffed, glancing away. “Thank you.”
“It’s my thanks, for doing this for me.”
“I see.” Scaramouche stood there silent for a moment. Eventually he looked around and nodded. “All seems to be in order. I hope you’re an early riser, tomorrow we’ll get to work. So make sure to sleep. I…” he began to turn towards the tent opening. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“Good. Go to sleep.”
The sound of your name whispered into the night by him was something that would keep you up for a while longer.
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mari-lair · 4 years
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Norray halloween week Day 1: Ghosts!
If curious, below are some random info about this Teacher/ghost AU
Ray got a gun and he can use it. The ghost gun isn’t able to touch, much less physically hurt anyone, but it replicate the sound of a real gun, which contributed a lot to how low priced his haunted house rent has become. It nearly gave Norman a heart attack the first time he heard it.
After being dead for a while, Ray learned how to turn visible and invisible at will and play around small objects such as paper, shoes and butcher knives. He can control up to 4 small objects at a time or something relativaly heavy like a chair if he really concentrate. The more he got the hang of controling and moving small objects the lower his house rent become, rarely getting aggressive but still able to physically hurt people. On All Hallows Eve he can posses people’s bodies and get out of the house he haunts, but he always ends up back to his empty ‘home’ when the night is over.
Ray is an incredibly fast learner. Just by observing the people that visits his house, he learned a decent amount of modern english and understand the basics of how tecnology is a  thing now -he wished this advanced tecnology was invented when he was alive. It would make the of lack of food and nutrients less of a deadly nightmare in open sea.
As a pirate, Ray used to be the one in charge of doing most of the bloody work and take the night watch, protecting his captain’s back from both outside and inside forces. He was constantly alert, borderline paranoic. But as the years in death passed, he grew more calm, very patient. He usually don’t mind new people in his house, happy to learn more modern english and befriend the guests willing to tolerate him. If a new guest cross a line however,  Ray will do his best to scare them away. Hurt them or kill them by manipulating knives if he sees fit.
It’s very rare for adults to see Ray as anything other than a nonsense they have no energy to deal with or a warning sign for their crumbling lives, so he usually hang around kids. The childish company mellows him with time.
Ray is from a time where death was common and getting hurt was inevitable so what people consider pretty serious is something Ray considers mild “Why are you being so dramatic about seeing some bone? Be grateful your hand is still attached to your wrist after you slaped your daughter. If it wasn’t for her wishes you wouldn’t have legs to run away.”
Norman is considered a genius and have countless prizes under his belt. He wanted to go to the moon when he was a kid but because of his weak health, he knew he would not be acepted in the space program. He decided teaching was the next best thing later on, accepted as a teacher in a prestigious school while still young. He enjoys and understand all subjects but love history the most, unable to deny it was hard and frustrating to teach a whole class of teens at times but still liking his job. Having one student that was genuinaly interested in his class was more than enough to make his day.
When Norman first started teaching, he felt more responsable than he had his whole life. It wasn’t a bad feeling per see, but it made him anxious so he called his little sister Cherry once a week to ask her questions about her teachers and make sure he was doing a good job.
Norman may not be the funniest of teacher but he’s still a favorite for his palpable cares for his students. He does not make the subject easier than is requested but he put a lot of effort into making people enjoy their world history, teaching with passion and seriously answering any questions, no matter how silly or joking it sounds. He’s understanding and try his best to help those with dificulty with the subject, always giving people second chances, having lost countless nights of sleep correcting re-writen essays after deadlines and turning his test questions into podcasts for students with adhd, aware the big historical excerpts are fundamental for answering the test but too hard to focus, specially with limited time.
The lambda crew are problem children. Norman went the extra mile to save Barbara and Zazie from failing classes even outside history and left Vincent startruck with his wide knowladge about not only world history but a ton of subjects he could be teaching too if he wasn’t overworking himself. Norman is both happy to inspire the squad to study hard and also very awkward by their blind admiration.
The teacher had a firm “ghost don’t exist”  mentality, which is one of the reasons he brought the haunted house in the first place. He had chalked Ray up as an halucination from his sleep deprived brain, having the rotten luck of buying the house right after a bad guest owned. The ghost got more annoyed than usual from things as insignificant as Norman keeping the lights on for too long, putting music Ray doesn’t vibe with, or just acting unfairly cute, to more personal matters such as Norman studying about Ray and his family lives. They used to have a distant and bad relationship but once Ray noticed Norman had only admiration for history, being genuinaly kind when trying to talk instead of mocking his existence, Ray apologised. Norman was still wary at first but they quickly hit off, enjoying to learn what the other had to offer and matching in wits.
When Norman catch a fever or a bad cold Ray gets wary. He know, on some level, that medicine have evolved a lot, but he remenbers way too clearly how serious even the weakest of diseases could get if not imediatly treated.  He always stick by Norman’s side when the teacher sneezes, not taking his eyes off him. Usually Norman keep working when he catch a cold, so Ray learned to float Norman’s grading papers out of his reach when coughing joined his sneezes. Floating a paper is enough to get Norman to take a break most of the time, but if the get stubborn Ray will stop playing nice. Just lower his voice to comander mode and order “Rest. Now. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.” and Norman does what he’s told, it’s very unconfortable to have a gun in the face and he does feel very tired.
When Norman is seriously sick, not just coughing but stuck to his bed. Ray freak out and fear for his life. When it reached this level, most of his crewmates died or had to be thrown in the sea to not infect other. Yes Ray know it’s not as bad anymore, but even when he observed guests, they rarely got sick, and when it got bad they where taken to a doctor. Norman lives alone so he got no one to feed him and bring him blankets or take him to the doctor if he lies for hours in bed. Ray was all the help he would get and he is fucking dead, he can’t measure his temperature or take care of him properly. Ray does tries his best though. He concentrated a lot to float heavy blankets and pillows towards Norman. Imediatly fetching any pills asked of him and doing his best to make him tea. It isn’t tasty, but Norman still appreciates his care.
Ray is the first to fall in love, he think “If only I could  kiss this fool and hug him, I would do it on the daily. I wish he was alive back then... He would love meeting Emma...” at least once a week but a big part of him is just “Forget scurvy! Norman would die of cold or malnutricion before he reached 10. Thank god the helpless bastard took his sweet time to be born.”
Ray cannot touch any eletronics, he can’t even come close without phones, computers, and tvs turning to statics, so Norman buys an illustrated book about the Red Mane Pirates for Ray to see his crew again. He know is not perfect but is the best he can offer whenever Ray expresses missing his family.
They read together. Norman occasionally teaching a new word to his ghost and Ray correcting any historical inacuracy. It’s fun.
Norman finds an illustration of an alive Ray sleeping in the mast waaay too beautiful. Ray snort at the romantized draw, disolving into laughter by how Norman failed to hide his blush.
It became a habit to read history books together and tease each other. More often then not, it lead to a history class and way to much sass on both ends.
“Wait, so there really was a world war? I heard about it from old guests but I thought they were exagerating when they called world war! And what do you mean 2? There was a second one??”
“How did miss the second one? It was HUGE, quite horribl-”
“You were not even alive when it happened.”                                        
“Tecnically, you weren’t either Ray-” 
Ray is a bit scared of how attached he got to Norman, knowing eventually the man would die. He hopes it will take a long time, and that once he had a painless death, he will become a ghost too, but he doesn’t really believe Norman will ever turn into a ghost. Ray knows not everyone that dies became a ghost. Since someone as compassionable as Emma -even if she was forced to have blood and dirty choises on her hand to survive the merciless seas- was not cursed to became a ghost, he was confident someone as kind as Norman would dissapear from Ray’s afterlife once he died too.
More of this AU here
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And since you reached the end of this text wall. You can have this bonus Norman being awkward/excited about their growing friendship.
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britishassistant · 3 years
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Eurydice and Izanami Didn’t Complain Half As Much
The human won’t take the bed.
Beel’s honestly begun measuring his interactions with the human by what it won’t do more than what it will.
It won’t eat or drink anything other than bottled water, even when its movements are growing so slow and sluggish that it makes Beel’s belly rumble both in commiseration and with the promise of easy (if unsatisfyingly stringy) prey. It’s been nearly two weeks already— it frightens him how easily it can deny itself, even when Lucifer forces it to sit with them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, scowling down at the table full of food but not eating any of it.
It won’t stop trying to escape the Devildom, slowly driving up Lucifer’s blood pressure with every attempt to slip out of the House of Lamentation, to scale the fences at R.A.D., to run away when escorted into town. It even tried to escape when he threw the fridge at Mammon for his pudding and it missed and went through its room, using the confusion of the fight to jump out of the now broken window, only for his eldest brother to materialize outside and use it as a projectile to knock him and Mammon out of their brawl.
And now it won’t take the bed.
Instead, it’s trying to curl up on the floor under the couch, without even a pillow.
“I can take the couch.” He tries again. “You have the bed.”
The human snorted. “Did you not hear me the first time? I don’t want the bed or the couch. I want to sleep here.”
“On the ground.” Beel says doubtfully.
”Yes.” 
“In your uniform.” Beel eyes the wrinkled skirt and shoe’d feet of the human.
“Yes.”
”Without a pillow.”
”...Well I won’t say no if you have one to spare.” The human admits grudgingly. “But I’m sleeping here, and that’s final.”
Beel puzzles over this statement. “Are you going to try to escape during the night if you sleep there?”
There’s a suspiciously long silence. The human won’t look him in the eye.
”...no.” It says, unconvincingly.
He thinks he’s starting to understand the twitch that’s been forming in Lucifer’s left eye. Does this human not know the meaning of taking a break? It’s like dealing with Belphie’s stubbornness when it comes to waking up or getting out of bed, but in reverse.
”Fine.”
The human’s face brightens for the first time since he’s met it. “Finally, at least one of you lot is sen—“
Beel sweeps all the sheets and pillows off his bed onto the floor, and goes to the cupboard and pulls out the extra bedding to add to the pile.
”Whaaaat are you doing?” The human asks.
”Sleeping here.” Beel says innocently, trying to get comfortable on the padding he’s laid down, creating a sort of nest for himself between the couch and the door. One that the human won’t be able to pass without risking stepping on him if they try to sneak out. “And that’s final.”
The human looks almost comically offended, staring at him in open-mouthed indignation.
It huffs and snatches a pillow from his pile for itself, turning it’s back on him with purpose, like Asmo in a snit. “Whatever. You get the lights then. I can’t sleep unless it’s dark.”
”Sure.” He replies agreeably, standing to flick them off and grinning where the human can’t see him. It’s kind of fun messing with them, maybe even more fun than teasing Mammon or the angel chihuahua. The absent-minded thought wanders through his brain, wondering if this would’ve been what Lilith would’ve been like, if she’d survived the fall with them. She always got pouty when she was teased too.
Then Beel realizes what he’s thinking, and the gaping maw of guilt in the pit of his stomach becomes unbearable. The smile drops from his lips as he flicks the lights off.
He rummages in his drawer until he finds what he’s looking for. He munches on his sandwich as he fumbles his way back to his bed for the night.
”Are—are you seriously eating again?” The human’s tone is incredulous.
”I’m hungry.” He mutters darkly, polishing off the last few bites and ripping open the packet of chips as his stomach gurgles again.
The gurgling continues even after the pangs in his stomach have stopped. 
Beel’s lived a long time. Long enough to be able to distinguish and recognize each of his stomach noises telling him what he’s hungry for.
That was not his stomach noise.
”...”
”...You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
The human shifts in the dark, little more than a shapeless mass under the couch. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse for longer than this.”
Beel...doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”
That provokes a bitter laugh. “Ha! Words of an adult who’s never gone without.”
He scowls at its shape in the dark. “I’m always going without. Nothing keeps me full. Nothing makes me full. I can eat and eat and eat, and I’ll still be as hungry as I was when I started. But even eating a little when I can is better than not eating anything at all.”
He can smell it, the human’s scent almost choking at this proximity. It’s odd, a spicy, rich scent like cardamom studded pork with an undercurrent of something...not quite right to it. Almost curdled, somehow.
Beel’s mouth salivates, no matter how many chips he tries to fill it with. His stomach and tastebuds can handle any food, no matter how long it’s been left out to sour. In some cases, he finds it improves the flavor of his meal. He’s never eaten a living human that’s smelled spoiled before though.
He wonders what it tastes like.
”Well if you can find me some human food that I know won’t trap me here for all eternity, then I’ll eat.” The human growls back. “Or, even better idea! Just stop wasting everyone’s time and send me home altogether! Then you and your brothers and me and mine can all live happily ever after the way we were meant to. Out of each other’s hair.”
Oh.
Oh.
“You have brothers?” He tries to keep the tremble in his voice under control.
Tries not to picture Belphie, miserable and alone and lost in the human world, fighting with all the impotent ferocity of this human to get out, get out, get away, get back to him.
He misses Belphie. He misses Belphie.
The human shifts again in the dark. If the light under the door from the corridor could pass Beel’s bulk, he thinks he’d see it glisten off it’s wet eyes peering at him. “Well. One biological one. And an adopted one, and an adopted sister who’s his biological sister, but it’s. Complicated.”
Beel contemplates this. “Siblings are siblings. We’re not all related by blood.”
“I know that.” The human snaps, sounding oddly irritated. “It’s just...are they your adopted siblings if you and your best friend kinda adopted them together? Like, Shio and Asahi call us all ‘big brother’ and ‘big sister’, but who do we say has custody, really? Cause they love him and he really loves them, and they’re so good for each other, and I don’t wanna take that away from him, but...”
Beel doesn’t quite understand the thread of this complaint. Not in the least because his best friends have always been his brothers and sister, no matter how much they drive each other up the wall.
“Is your best friend not your brother too?”
There’s a sharp crack.
“FUCK!”
Beel’s salivating gets worse at the sudden iron tang of blood.
“Are you okay?” He asks, as he desperately tries to swallow it back down, standing to go grab some more food and maybe a towel for the human.
There’s a pained groan. “Y-yeah. Just...tried to sit up. Forgot about the couch.”
“You can still take the bed.” Beel points out, warring between trying not to breathe in through his nose and get ambushed by more of that delicious scent and keeping his mouth shut enough not to drool all over himself.
“No, I’m sleeping here, fuck off.” The human grumbles petulantly. It yelps a little when he throws the handtowel at it.
Beel inhales gratefully as the scent is finally muffled somewhat.
“And no. He’s not. My brother, that is. He’s my best friend.” The human said, as if the distinction was somehow important.
“…What’s the difference?” Beel asks, confused.
The human sighs explosively, as if this is a monumental chore he’s forced on it. “I-I don’t kn—! You’re related to one and not the other?! I just—! Are your brothers seriously all you have, because if so, you need to get out more, you know that?! Find people who won’t belittle you every damn second of the day. Get more healthy relationships, or all that jazz. Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not a therapist!”
Beel chews on the first mouthful of his second bag of chips as he digests this tirade. Apart from the insults towards his brothers, the meat of their argument about the difference between “best friend” and “adopted sibling” seems to be centered around the idea of the relations between both? But technically, one wouldn’t be any more related by blood to an adopted sibling than they would be to a best friend (a fact that Levi has tried to impress upon him many times when trying to explain the ‘ships’ in some cartoon or another), so what’s the distinction…?
Something clicks in Beel’s head, as he momentarily halts in chewing his ninth serving of chips.
“Oh.” He says, swallowing his mouthful. “Are you in love with your best friend romantically or something?”
There’s a moment of silence.
Then the human explodes into a flurry of noise, sputtering and swearing and near-shrieking unintelligibly, it’s scent growing stronger as blood and adrenaline pumps through it on what smells like double-time.
Beel has no idea what the big deal is, as the human lobs the pillow he gave them in his general direction and misses by a mile, but that certainly explains a few things.
He tilts the end of the bag up towards his mouth as he reflects on how whiny Asmo will be once he learns the real reason this human has been ignoring him so throughly. It almost makes him want to hold off on telling his brothers, but the idea of all the colors that Lucifer could turn, knowing precisely why the human won’t play his and Diavolo’s game, makes it far too good an opportunity to pass up.
Lilith would’ve loved something like this, a story of “true love” and “star-crossed romance”. Belphie will find it hilarious when he gets back, a human trying to defy the forces much greater than it for something so fickle and fleeting.
In the moment, Beel just tries to tune out the human’s shouting as he rolls over to get some sleep.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Best Friend’s Brother
Conrad (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man of Medan) x Reader (Male)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst
Summary: Having been invited to the boat trip by his best friend Julia, Y/N can’t help but wish he never accepted the invitation because now he has to deal with being stuck on a boat with the boy he’s had a crush on for years with no real way to avoid him.
Requested by @dark-pictures-until-dawn  Hi hun! Thank you so much for your request, sorry to have kept you waiting for so long but here it finally is and I really hope you enjoy the read! (I used he/him pronouns but if you want them changed feel free to let me know!) Love, Vy ❤
I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to go on this trip. I don’t know what on God’s green Earth I was thinking but here we are now sitting on a boat, at open water with no land for miles. And I’m sitting here, face to face with him, but I’m completely frozen. Unable to say a single damn thing. Maybe that’s a good thing though, I’d probably embarrass myself if I did say something.
Let me give you a bit of backstory to how I found myself in this situation.
My parents are very close to Julia and Conrad’s family, given that our mothers used to go to high school together and have remained best friends ever since. That’s how I met the two siblings and was quick to grow a friendship with them both. Despite being Julia’s age, I found myself always gravitating towards Conrad but the girl is still my best friend - she’d probably kill me if I let her brother take that title from her. Truth be told, he could never take her title - I could never see Conrad as a best friend.
Not when my feelings towards him are anything but platonic.
No, I did not tell Julia about said feelings and no I don’t plan on telling her either. I’d never hear the end of it if I did tell her about it. She’d chew me up about it, making my romantic interest for her brother the main topic of discussion (read: teasing and mocking). Don’t get me wrong, I love Julia to death and there are never any secrets between us.
Well, there weren’t any until a few years ago when I realized my fondness for the dumbass she calls brother goes beyond just friendship and similarity. That it had more of a romantic nature that I was not prepared to have to deal with. And, in all honesty, I don’t think I’ve dealt with at all even now. I mean, it’s probably obvious thanks to the silence that’s taken over the deck of the boat where I’m currently sitting with Conrad, monitoring Alex and Julia’s dive while Fliss is tending to a seasick Brad downstairs.
“Hey Y/N, want a beer?“ When the comfortable but odd silence is broken, no one would be shocked to find it out it was done so by Conrad. I’m surprised he even managed to stay silent for so long.
“No thanks, I’ll keep the alcohol at bay until tonight when everyone’s onboard.“ It’s not a complete lie, that’s what I like about it.
You see, I’ve never got drunk with Conrad in the vicinity and I don’t wanna risk my drunk ass outing me and my silly and have neither him nor I remember it the next morning. So, to avoid getting carried with the drinking, I won’t be starting now and I’ll make sure to limit myself even tonight to three beers tops. I’m no lightweight but I’m no daredevil either.
“You’re oddly quiet.“ Conrad says when he returns with a beer in his hand, the glass bottle stained with droplets, suggesting he’s just taken it out of one of the coolers we brought. He presses the bottle to the side of his neck where he got a sunburn yesterday, some droplets trickling down his skin. He doesn’t seem to mind it as he keeps his focused gaze on me, a mildly concerned frown upon his face as he studies my expression, “Something wrong? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what best friends are for, after all.“ He smirks, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘best‘.
I laugh but I cringe inwardly. Something about calling him ‘best friend’ feels so unnatural and odd and out-of-place I can’t even describe it. I know it may sound ridiculous but if you’ve ever had a crush there’s a high chance that you can relate. “Don’t worry, if it were worth mentioning, I’d tell you.“ I blow off his concerns, using his own method against him.
He’s known to do that - sweep all his troubles under the rug and stand atop it to make sure they don’t try to escape and resurface while he’s keeping his bright smile on his face, avoiding showing any other expression. I’m no fool and neither is no one around him, at least the ones who know him well and are close to him. Us who he considers friends know that it’s not all smiles and sunshine in his life either.
Wish I could pull that rug from under him and see what’s really going on with him but not even Julia is allowed to do so, let alone me.
Thankfully though, before things could get any more awkward, Julia and Alex resurface with some rather exciting news - they went in as boyfriend and girlfriend and came back as an engaged couple.
And just like that, all thoughts surrounding Conrad were thrown out of my head. Ok, maybe not completely, but they were suppressed into some dark corner of my brain.
                                                              *  *  *
“You’ve got Connie worried.“ I yelp when my best friend plops her ass down next to me on the deck, her second bottle of beer half empty by now while I’m still nursing my first as though I’m trying to save more beers for the rest of the people on board.  We already have plenty of beers in stock but even if we didn’t, considering the sickness he had to endure earlier, Brad isn’t drinking, leaving his share at our disposal. Therefore, Jules is quick to catch onto my slow drinking.
I tilt my bottle in her direction, “I want to avoid getting sick like Brad did, thank you very much. The last thing I’m looking forward to is kneeling by the edge of the boat, puking my guts out.“
Julia laughs, clinking her bottle against mine before taking a swig. I take one too, hoping it fuels my courage at least a tiny bit to try and lead this conversation properly, “Nah, that’s not what he meant - although, I doubt Brad’s sickness was an alcohol issue.” She shakes her head, pushing aside a few blond locks to be able to look at me better. That’s when I feel like her gaze is piercing into my soul and I wish I knew how to shield myself from that. There’s a big issue with having your crush’s sister be your best friend, especially when she has a sixth sense for when there’s something off with me. “But you have been avoiding him, don’t deny it.” My eyes widen against my will and my mouth falls open as I try to defend myself and deflect her argument, but she raises a finger to signal me to keep my thoughts to myself while she’s talking. “Did he say something inappropriate while we were gone? Just tell me, I’ll end him!”
“Relax, Jules, Conrad would never do such a thing. Especially not with someone he cares about.“ Alex interferes - God bless his soul - and takes a seat next to Julia, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I’ve known Connie for as long as I’ve known you, J. You should know by now that, even at the odd chance he does say something inappropriate, I have a reply ready at all times.“ I shoot her a wink in an attempt to wipe away the concerned expression on her face.
Alex contributes, “See? Nothing to worry about. Now let Y/N enjoy his beer and you enjoy yours.”
I shoot Alex a grateful smile over behind Julia’s back, subtly tilting my bottle towards him - a gesture he understands perfectly and does so in return. However, his fiancée refuses to give up the argument.
“No, no, no. There is definitely something to worry about and I’ll get it out of him if it’s the last thing I ever do.“ She narrows her eyes at me, forcing me to instinctively back away as if that’s gonna help me at all. Then, this woman pulls a 180 on me, going from an angry detective to a disappointed and betrayed friend, “Damn it, Y/N! I always tell you everything and you are just a closed book! How is that fair?!“
It may or may not be a tactic but she’s got a point - I rarely tell her things. I’m the listener of the duo and she’s the talker: she shares, I absorb the info; she’s upset, I listen and comfort her accordingly; she has something troubling her, I’m the one she shares it with. It’s rarely ever the other way around. And I can see why it bothers her.
What’s a little truth to pay her back for all the ones she’s told me? Well, the problem is that this particular truth is far from little and it would be the equivalent of descending into my own grave willingly.
It could also help you, you know? 
Yeah, sure it can. Sure it can....
“Ok fine!“ I cut her off because this woman can never run out of words to use against me when she wants to.
Her fiancée is quick to give me a sympathizing look, “No, Y/N, you don’t have to...”
“No, it’s ok, Alex. I owe her this much...“ I sigh, looking at the doorway leading to the lower level of the boat where Conrad went a while ago and doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to return, much to my relief. I sigh, succumbing to the inevitable, “Jules, I’m only gonna say this once and no, I won’t elaborate but I need you to promise me you won’t freak the hell out. Got it?“
The blond girl rolls her eyes, “Come on Y/N, are we in middle school or something?”
Oh she’s so not ready to hear this...
“Fine, then I bet you won’t be bothered by my crush on your brother at all.“ I huff out before I can rethink the words I’d use or how I’d phrase the sentence. It just left my body as though it has been waiting to do so for a while no. That wouldn’t surprise me though, it’s been one heavy weight to carry around.
There’s a long moment of silence. Alex and I both gaze at Julia who is pulling off the most impressive poker face I’ve ever seen but I have no time to dwell on that considering I’m too busy keeping my stomach from turning completely and forcing me to throw up the small amount of food I’ve eaten and the beer I’ve had to drink. When Julia opens her mouth to talk, I raise the bottle to my lips to shut myself up and calm myself down. “The only thing that bothers me is the fact you didn’t tell me sooner.“
To say I’m flabbergasted would be an understatement. I’ve seen Julia freak out over smaller things but she’s calm about this?! I’m impressed. But then again, I shouldn’t speak too soon - this might just be the calm before the storm.
“If I knew you’d be this chill about it I wouldn’t have waited so long.“ I admit sheepishly, fidgeting with my hands now that I’ve put the bottle aside. “It’s unlike you to be this calm about something....like this.“ I cannot find the right words to describe ‘this‘ but I know she gets me and that’s a relief.
“I’m a drama queen when I wanna be and a strategic player when I have to be, Y/N, how come you don’t know that?“ She smirks at me, all self-assured and whatnot. Wish I had at least a fragment of her self-esteem. “Speaking of strategic, leave it all to me. The two of you will be together in no time.“ She nudges me in the ribs with her elbow, giving me a wink that makes my blood run cold, my eyes opening wide as plates.
“No way, J! No fucking way.“ I feverously shake my head, the idea itself making me feel so terrified and unsure like I’ve never felt before. “You won’t do anything just like I won’t do anything. He doesn’t see me that way and that’s that, no room for negotiating.“
She scoffs, “Oh please. Have you known him all his life? Have you seen him through every darn moment of his life - from being a pathetic loser in middle school to the playboy in high school? No you haven’t. Well, I have and I can say with all the certainty within me that the way he looks at you is a dead giveaway of how he feels for you. He’s had many romantic partners, and I’ve never once seen him look at them the way he looks at you, Y/N.”
I narrow my eyes at her, “You do realize you’re contradicting your own point here - he’s never looked at me the way he looks at his romantic partners means he’s never seen me as a romantic partner!”
Julia shakes her head, “Goddammit, Y/N, you’re really trying to explain my brother to me? I’m telling you, the look he gives you is a lot more meaningful, a lot more special, unlike any look he’s ever given anyone.” The girl scans my face, looking for something I’m not sure she’ll find. “He adores you, Y/N. Perhaps even more than you.”
The words have no time to sink in an be processed by my spasming brain when I hear a familiar voice come from my right, “Wait, what?! What did I miss?”
If Conrad doesn’t have the best timing ever, I don’t know who does...
“Oh dear brother, we’ve been missing out on A LOT.“ Julia says, using every bit of insinuation she can to get me on-edge.
Conrad’s confused gaze darts between the three of us: Alex, who’s still in the processing phase, Julia who’s smiling widely and me who’s downright terrified. I now wish I had another beer bottle handy. It’d keep me occupied if nothing else.
Suddenly, the engaged couple arise from their seats and begin walking away - not without Julia flashing Conrad and I a big grin that says ‘Have fun, you two!’ as though she doesn’t know how much I’m sweating right now.
Conrad however doesn’t seem to notice the teasing undertones as he takes the seat opposite me, tightly holding onto his beer bottle when his gaze meets mine. There’s a smirk on his face but I don’t see even a trace of it in his eyes, leading me to believe it’s ingenuine and forced which is something I never thought I’d see on Connie’s face - a fake smile. It’s almost disturbing to witness.
“Well, well, well, has our boy scout found himself a significant other? Sorry if I’m far from the mark, I’m just shooting in the dark here. I didn’t get to hear much so I might be really inaccurate.“
I shake my head, “No, no, you’re pretty close actually.“ I was prepared to deny it to my grave but here I am confessing like a fool, “It’s a potential significant other. To be fair, there’s no potential whatsoever but a boy can dream.“
He quirks up a curious brow, “Why’d you be so sure?”
Well fuck, I didn’t think it that far through.
I attempt to play it off cool, shrugging my shoulder nonchalantly, “I’m not his type at all. I just know he doesn’t see me the way I see him. Hell, I’m not even sure he’s into guys and even....“
Conrad doesn’t let me finish though, shutting my up with his lips pressed against mine. I can’t recall when he closed the distance between us, I can’t even remember seeing him get up from his spot on the bench. Were my eyes closed? I have no clue, all I know is that they’re shut now and I’m afraid that this will all turn out to be a dream if I open them.
Therefore, I keep them shut even after we pull away, our faces still remaining inches away from one another.
“You still think he doesn’t like guys?“ The cocky fucker asks in a mumble, chuckling slightly.
I should probably feel timid, embarrassed or nervous or anything else that would fit well in this situation but all I feel is relief and all I can do is tilt my head back and laugh my heart out at the one thought that pops into my head:
I may have been the last person to know I had a crush on Conrad
Connie doesn’t allow me to spiral any further. He instead takes a gentle hold of the back of my neck, bringing me in for another kiss.
Man, is our story a cliché though - the story of how a dumbass (me) fell in love with his best friend’s brother.
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plounce · 3 years
Photo
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what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS
(info on this au under the cut)
theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels
magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick
demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine
demeter:
bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old
semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams
dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that
very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust
currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts
her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching
she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff
bombalurina:
bisexual. 24 years old
got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now
she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash
literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done
has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red
a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath
i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!
my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.
demelurina:
bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”
they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else
demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off
(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)
bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart
munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details
she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes
bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.
this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)
but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep
she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward
bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)
demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???
cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:
1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser
2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.
so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no
meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...
you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..
eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)
and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”
and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”
anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)
tugger:
bisexual. 22 years old
dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to
he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped
trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies
trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing
it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it
he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!
to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot
they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious
he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally
he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced
demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.
she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter
mistoffelees:
gay. 20 years old
has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept
a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak
he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective
side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant
sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.
doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.
tuggoffelees:
the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit
the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”
idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”
after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”
tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...
mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets
they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”
just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests
i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away
mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight
i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”
they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces
yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out
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frenchpuppycormier · 3 years
Text
I'd Follow You Wherever
(ao3)
word count: 4k
rating: T
Once again a shoutout to @femmeluthor for being my number one fan and listening to me complain ;)
Lena stares unblinking at the object in her hands and thinks about where her actions have led her, and daydreaming about what her life has become. Never in a million years did she picture this is what she’d be doing in her thirties; preparing herself to travel across the galaxy to another dimension to rescue the woman she cares most about in the world. The universe.
“You sure this is going to work?”
“It has to,” Lena quivers. Alex nods in understanding. “I don’t know what else to do, Alex. Nothing feels right without her. I-I can’t sleep at all, I’m constantly thinking about her and how she is, I think my hair is falling out, I can’t walk by our favorite restaurant anymore without crying…I can barely eat, and when I do it just comes back up. All I feel is this constant, aching pain and it’s sucking me dry. I don’t know what to do,” she chokes out a sob and her hands start to tremble. “Alex, I have to do this!”
Sensing a panic attack of larger proportions on the horizon, Alex steps forward and pulls her into a gentle, yet firm hug. “Hey,” she squeezes her back with one hand while the other runs soothingly along Lena’s shoulder blade and arm. Resting her head against hers, Alex murmurs, “It’s okay. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do. I just wish we had another way.”
Lena leans back and looks at her incredulously with pinched brows, “What, you don’t think I can do this?”
Alex huffs and lets out a soft chuckle. “Lena, no. That’s not what I’m saying.” Noticing Lena isn’t standing down from her natural defensiveness, she rolls her eyes. “You really don’t see it?”
“Please, enlighten me,” she gestures as if telling her to continue.
“Lena,” Alex shakes her head and rests her palms on Lena’s shoulders. “I already lost Kara; I can’t lose you too. I mean, I know you and I never really got a chance to make things right, but I’d like to think we’re friends, don’t you?”
A stray tear drops from Lena’s eye and she wipes it with her thumb before sniffling. She cracks a smile and deflects, “Since when did you become so sentimental?”
Alex releases her hold and laughs, “Well, having Kara as a sister does that to me. Lately it’s occurred to me that life’s too short to be a hard ass all the time, as cheesy as it sounds. And you know, Kelly is a therapist.” That gets a chuckle out of Lena. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized you’re the closest thing I have to Kara right now, and to be honest…I think you’re pretty special, Lena.”
The former CEO’s eyes widen with the admission. “Thank you,” her voice cracks. She clears her throat, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Alex jokingly salutes her but quickly grows serious again. She huffs loudly and her eyes dart around the room before settling on Lena’s face. The woman looks back with a worried gaze.
“What?” Lena asks. “Alex, what is it?”
“Nothing, I just,” she shakes her head and gathers her wits. She stands straighter and crosses her arms in front of her chest, and with her head held high she says, “I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Alex, no,” she states firmly. “We agreed—”
The auburn-haired woman shakes her head. “We,” Alex gestures her finger between the two of them, “Didn’t agree on anything. You strutted in here with your proclivities and decided what was happening without allowing the rest of the group any say in it.”
“Alex…”
“I’m going with. It’s final,” Alex states and saunters over to the control panel in the center of the tower.
Lena scoffs and follows her, yelling at her turned back, “The hell you are! The deal was I go and you stay here in case anything happens to me. That way, you still have a fighting chance to save Kara and I, I will have tried my best, but I did what I could and you’ll get to move on.” Lena pauses for a second and emphasizes, “With Kara.”
Alex whips her head around and shoots daggers at her, causing Lena to startle and shrink back. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Lena’s nostrils flare in retaliation, but Alex keeps going. “I’m sick of you putting yourself on the line all the time. You’re just like Kara and it’s annoying as fuck!” She laughs tiredly as an epiphany enters through her brain. “You guys are perfect for each other.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on, Lena. You can’t be that dense,” Alex says, with mild exasperation. “Kara loves you, she’s in love with you, but she’s been too afraid to tell you because of the whole secret identity mishap. She already made a huge mistake which pissed you off, she didn’t want to risk losing you again, or your friendship, by speaking it into existence…And you!” she points accusingly at Lena. “You are too stubborn to admit your feelings out loud, so you bury them deep down inside because you think Kara will deny you or laugh at you, but if you actually think that then you really don’t know my sister at all.”
Lena’s mouth is hanging open by the time she’s done. She quickly closes it and swallows thickly before replying. “She loves me?”
Alex deflates and smiles softly. “Honey, she almost risked the entire timeline to tell you her secret earlier than when she actually did. I’d say she loves you.”
“Wait, what—”
“We’ll get to that part later, but for right now we’re running out of time,” Alex grabs the device from Lena. “So, ready to go rescue my sister?”
Lena eyes her suspiciously, “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a girl scout,” Lena snatches back the device. “I’ll take that. Took me all night to make this. I’m not risking it in your hands.”
Alex smirks, “’Kay, so remind me how this works again? Just so everything’s clear?”
“Well…basically we open up a portal to the Phantom Zone, then once we step through, this,” Lena holds up the device, “Will allow us to track Kara and her location. I took the nanobots to map the brains of the progeny we have in containment. Then, I used q-waves to replicate Malefic’s powers, and M’gann’s sensing abilities, and with the help of Kara’s DNA I was able to calibrate the device to the right frequency, which is how we’ll find her. All of this to make one simple tracking device. Again. Y’know, since you stole the first one I made.”
Alex winces under Lena’s intense glare. “I said I was sorry.”
“No worries, all is forgiven,” the former CEO smirks.
Alex releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, so then how will we know exactly where Kara is?”
“The device will chirp when we’re in her radius.”
“Is there any way we can narrow it down? Like to her exact coordinates or something? The Phantom Zone is a large place.”
“I wish I could say there was another way, but I’m afraid this is all we have,” Lena deflates. “You’re not about to back out already, are you?”
Alex purses her lips. “No way, Luthor. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Lena lifts her arm and presses the button to the portal watch. She glances at Alex and smiles, “Let’s go get our girl.”
.
.
.
Lena doesn’t know how long it takes them. Her watch tells her it’s been a week, but time in the Phantom Zone is different, so for all she knows it’s been a month since they’ve been roaming around searching for Kara.
Her feet are dragging with every step and she can tell Alex is just as exhausted and sluggish as she is. She knows they need to take a break and rest. She knows this. But she also knows the longer they wait, the longer they are away from Kara. The longer Kara has been here suffering by herself, and Lena can’t have that. No, she needs to get to Kara as fast as possible. Before it’s too late.
They pass a large boulder and after a minute of no random ramblings from Alex’s mouth, or fun facts to distract them, Lena frowns and stops. She turns around and sees no sign of the other woman. She squints and just barely notices a figure toppled over on their side, not moving. “Alex!”
Lena runs as fast as her legs can move her. She stumbles next to Alex and lands on her knees, the pain excruciating. Her synapses are firing throughout her body, but that’s the least of her worries right now. She shakes the older woman’s shoulders and cries out her name once more.
No response.
“Goddammit, Alex. Don’t do this to me. We’re so close!” Lena whips her backpack off and fumbles around the contents for her water bottle. Leave it to Lena to come extra prepared. She twists the cap off and pours a conservative amount on Alex’s face. It does the trick.
“Jesus, Lena!” she sputters and breathes heavily, wiping the liquid from her eyes.
“You fucking scared me half to death! What was I supposed to do?” Lena shrieks. If only her brother could see her now. He’d get a kick out of the way she’s freakishly reminiscent to a final girl and their antics.
Alex sits up with help from Lena. She swipes the bottle from her and takes a long swig, water dribbling down her bottom lip. “Thanks.”
Lena nods. “No problem.” She glances around them and shivers. “Now, I don’t know about you, but this place is giving me major Alien the movie vibes and we’re out in the open. So, how’s about we get a move on, hmm?”
“You don’t need to say ‘the movie’. You can just say Alien.”
“Alex…”
“Alright, alright,” Alex teases.
Rolling her eyes, Lena helps Alex to her feet with ease, and they continue the trek. It lasts about ten miles, until Alex needs another break. This time a chosen break. They settle along a bank of tall, pointy rocks. Lena reaches into her bag and downs a healthy amount of water.
“Hey! You gonna leave any for me?” Alex complains.
“Well maybe you should’ve brought your own!” Lena argues, but hands over the bottle anyway.
Alex thanks her and lowers herself to the ground. She grabs her ankle and winces. “Did you happen to bring a first aid kit in that bag of yours?”
Lena raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and huffs, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” She crouches next to Alex, takes off her bag, and rifles through it. While she’s distracted, she barely notices her surroundings and doesn’t have time to react to the feeling of a slight pinch on her arm.
She slowly turns her head and looks over to see Alex retract her hand, which holds a syringe. A wave of nausea hits Lena hard and her vision blurs. The last thing she sees is a snarling Alex before she succumbs to darkness.
When she wakes up it’s to pitch black surroundings, save for a small fire burning by her feet. Sosmall, in fact, it shouldn’t even be considered a fire. It’s merely smoldering embers, wisps of smoke on the verge of dying. Lena goes to move her arms but they’re being constrained be something. She mentally catalogues the environment around her, and realizes her wrists are tied together behind her back with rope, and her arms are wrapped around a tree. The only tree for miles.
Why would Alex do this? she thinks. I thought we were friends. Or was she just playing me the whole time to get close to me? And when she finally gained my trust, she twisted the proverbial knife into my gut. But for what? There’s nothing her for her to gain.
Lena groans and struggles against her confines.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice startles her from her reverie. “Good.”
“Alex,” Lena croaks, her throat parched. “Why are you doing this?”
Alex laughs like a hyena catching its prey. “Can’t you see? You’re just a dumb, pathetic weakling who never learns. You trust too easily, even though you know everyone will eventually betray you. You’re worthless,” Alex spits. “Twisted and evil; you’re a Luthor, just like your brother. Who would ever love you?”
Lena trembles, tears prickling her eyes. “No…”
“Everything you touch turns to ash. Kara’s probably dead because of you. The world hates aliens, because of you. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done,” Alex’s face slowly morphs into Lex’s sneering face, and suddenly everything feels wrong. “We could’ve had it all, Lena. We could’ve built something together, but you had to go and play hero, didn’t you?”
“No!” Lena chokes.
Lex steps closer so he’s towering of her, the light from the fire burning shadows across his sunken face. “You never learn, Lena. You don’t deserve the Luthor name. Supergirl is mine and you can’t stop me.” He puts his hands in his pant pockets like he just landed a deal, the confidence radiating off him as he walks away.
“W-Where are you going?” Lena yells. “What are you going to do?”
He turns around to look at her one last time and says, “To do what you couldn’t; I’m going to kill Supergirl.” He struts off into the distance with the only sound being Lena’s screams echoing throughout the wide berth of the canyon.
Lena screams until her throat grows hoarse and all that comes out is thick, dry sobs. She shakes and trembles and pulls at her wrists to break free, but it’s no use. Exhaustion settles in her bones and takes over until her eyelids grow heavy, and the darkness encompasses her once again.
The next time she wakes it’s to blinding light. She squints and tries to rub her face, but remembers they’re tied behind her back. Her heart starts thumping rapidly in her chest as the panic swallows her whole. She’s all alone. Left for dead. With no way to escape. She supposes she deserves this. Alex said so herself, who would ever love her?
As the day goes on her limbs grow heavy and her body gets weaker and weaker. She sighs and lets the elements do their work and take over. The last thought running through her mind before she goes is that she never got to tell Kara how she felt. Closing her eyes, Lena hears a voice in the back of her mind repeating her name. It’s getting louder and louder, but she doesn’t care. All she wants to do is sleep.
She hears the same voice yell her name again, sounding so close, yet far away. The voice is muffled as if she’s underwater.
“LENA!”
With no warning, she feels a jolt of pain in her ribs, and like her body is shocked with adrenaline, her eyes blast wide open and she wheezes. The first thing she notices is Alex hovering over her with worried eyes.
Alex sags in relief, “Oh, thank God.”
“Get away from me!” Lena shudders and backs away on her hands, palms scraping against the rough terrain.
“Woah! Hey, what’s going on?” Alex pleads holding her hands out in a placating gesture.
“You left me for dead,” Lena whimpers, tears threatening to fall. “You just left me there, all alone.”
Alex frowns, “What? No, Lena. Hey, look at me,” Alex tentatively reaches her hand toward the brunette like one would when dealing with a spooked animal. She grabs her chin as those glassy eyes morph into something akin to tentativeness. “You’re okay. None of that was real. It was all in your head.”
After quiet contemplation and realizing what she’s saying holds true, Lena sighs deeply and nods. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. We were just resting and I heard you whimpering in your sleep. I thought something was seriously wrong.”
Lena stares blankly at her. “But I don’t remember falling asleep….”
Alex’s eyebrows pinch together. “What do you—”
That’s when Lena notices the phantom looming in the dark. Its eyes are glowing red and its hands are buzzing with an energy as if taking control of someone’s mind.
“It’s him. He was playing tricks on us!” Lena whisper shouts and shuffles to her feet in one swift motion. She grabs Alex’s hand and pulls her away before the phantom wakes up. “We need to go. Right now!”
.
.
.
They make it to the edge of a ravine and Lena stops short, her mind spiraling with confusion. It must show on her face, because Alex notices something’s off almost immediately.
“What is it?” Alex asks.
“I’ve been here before,” Lena mutters, mostly to herself. If it weren’t for their close proximity, Alex probably wouldn’t have heard her.
“What? That’s impossible…”
Lena shakes her head. “No, not literally. I was here in my dream,” she rolls her eyes at herself. “Or rather, what the phantom put inside my head. This has to mean something!” At that exact moment, the tracking device in Lena’s hands lights up and shrills harshly. “She’s close! Kara’s close!” she grins widely, excitement swelling her cheeks.
As Lena walks away, the device growing louder with each step, Alex grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back effectively stopping her in her tracks. “What if it’s a trap?”
“We’ve come this far. We can’t stop now,” Lena rips her arm away and trudges on, leaving Alex in the dust. Alex quickly catches up with her and wordlessly makes it known that she’s got her back.
The duo makes it to a point where the device is droning out a constant beep. “She’s here!” Lena exclaims. Here is a maze of jagged rocks and what can only be described as molten lava.
“Fuck! How are we supposed to find her in here?!” Alex rubs her temples.
“Shh,” Lena grabs her wrist. “Do you hear that?” Alex lowers her hands and listens for any noise in the vicinity. A quiet whimper emerges from somewhere to their left. Lena blames it on the lack of sun in the decrepit place, blames the lack of light for why they were unable to see a small figure leaning on the rocky wall, hidden in the shadows.
“Kara?” Lena gasps. She creeps forward careful not to startle her. “Kara,” she says, louder this time.
“Who’s there?” Kara asks, trembling slightly and shuffling away so she’s pressed up against the wall. Her normal demeanor is completely forgotten and it’s morphed into rigidity and stiffness.
Alex’s body betrays her and she collapses to the ground in a heap, her hands covering her mouth in shock. Tears trickle down her cheeks. Lena glances back over her shoulder and softens in understanding.
Lena crouches down closer to Kara and as soon as her eyes adjust to the dark, she chokes on her own breath. Kara’s once bright, sapphire eyes are now pale and grey. They’re slowly losing the light inside of her, and becoming something dark and lost. “Kara,” she whispers.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Kara’s eyes dart around like she’s frantically searching for something.
“Hey, it’s me,” she sits on her knees facing her, itching to reach out and touch her. “It’s Lena. Listen to my voice.”
Kara shakes her head furiously, tendrils of hair bouncing off her shoulder. “No. No, Lena can’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“Darling, it’s me. Okay?”
“No. No, no, no, no,” Kara cries, her body shaking with every utterance.
Lena doesn’t fight it anymore and she clasps onto Kara’s flailing hands. “It’s me, Kara. I’m here. Your Lena,” she lifts Kara’s hands and places them on her own face. “I had to find you myself, I couldn’t trust anyone else to do it without fail. I supposed that’s selfish of me, but when it comes to you I’d do anything.”
Kara begins tracing over Lena’s features with deft fingers, every worry line and wrinkle. She starts with the eyebrows she’s become quite accustomed to, then continues with the swell of her cheekbones and sharp jawline, moving over to the slope of her nose, and finally settling her thumbs on plump, parted lips. Her favorite pair of lips. Lena’s breath hitches from Kara’s tender searching.
Once she’s done, Kara rests her forehead on Lena’s and faintly sobs, hands gripping underneath her jaw and along her neck. “It really is you,” Kara closes the distance and slowly, but with steady determination, kisses her. Lena’s lips are soft and warm compared to the acrid burning that’s constantly surrounded her since she’s been in this place. She sighs, causing a breathy moan to emerge from Lena, and she pulls back to breathe in the woman before her. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that.”
Lena laughs and Kara melts at the sound, forgetting such a simple thing could cause her so much joy. Kara opens her eyes and she almost chokes on her breath from the shiny, emerald eyes gazing back at her with nothing but love. “Lena,” she breathes.
“Kara?”
“I see you. Rao, you’re so beautiful,” she gushes.
Lena’s cheeks become a light dusting of pink with that admission, and she dips her head bashfully. “You’re not so bad yourself, Supergirl.”
Kara grins and gently tilts Lena’s head up. She leans her forehead on Lena’s again, playfully bumping their noses against each other, while softly rubbing her thumbs over Lena’s cheeks, just below her eyes. “I really want to kiss you again,” she whispers.
“I look forward to doing a whole lot more of that, but let’s get you home first, yeah? I’m still concerned about getting you somewhere safe.” Kara nods mutely and smiles morosely. “Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
Lena stands and reaches for her hands. She’s not expecting Kara to be that light, so when she pulls her up Kara stumbles forward and nearly topples over her. Lena catches her fall and before she can say anything, the Kryptonian is encircling her arms around Lena and murmuring into her neck, “I missed you so much.” Lena tightens her hold and squeezes her back. “Me too.”
Kara pulls back and tilts her head to the side. “Are you here alone?”
Lena shakes her head, “No, Alex is here too. She’s right there,” she nods to her right and frowns at Kara. “Could you not hear her?”
“I was a little distracted…” she shrugs smugly.
Lena responds by unconsciously licking her lips. She catches herself and pushes the thoughts of strong arms and legs out of her head, and rolls her eyes. The raven-haired woman pulls Kara over to Alex and whispers, “Alex?”
The older woman wipes her eyes and stands up. When she takes in the sight of her sister, she completely breaks. “Kara!” Alex engulfs her in a hug, causing an oof to emerge from the hero. Kara responds by wrapping an arm around her sister’s neck, with one of Lena’s hands still connected with her free hand.
“Alex,” Kara weeps. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you kidding me?” Alex pulls back. “I couldn’t let this one over here take the reins,” she jabs a thumb toward Lena, who scoffs.
“Who was it that saved your ass? And got us here in the first place?” Lena claps back.
“Semantics,” Alex waves a hand nonchalantly.
Kara grins at the interaction between her sister and her best friend. She sure missed a lot while she was incapacitated in the Phantom Zone, but if this is one of the outcomes, she thinks maybe it was worth it. She’s only ever wanted for Lena to become a part of her family, and she’s giddy at the sight of seeing her get along so well with Alex. Even if things are bound to change, at least she has her two favorite women with her. It doesn’t matter what happens next if it means they’re by her side.
“Ready to go home, goofball?” the girl of steel questions.
Alex sticks out her tongue but smiles anyway. “Yes, please.”
Kara grabs a hold of Alex’s hand while her other wrapped around Lena’s waist. She squeezes her hip and kisses her temple. “Ready when you are.” Lena leans into her touch and lifts her wrist one last time. As she glances at the two sisters beside her, she smiles and thinks about how lucky she is. She presses the button and together they walk through the portal.
Back to National City.
Back to their family.
Back home.
47 notes · View notes
statticscribbles · 3 years
Text
Keyed In
Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: Soulmate AU! Whatever your soulmate draws/ writes on their skin ends up on yours, reader constantly forgetting things and being distracted; Sweet Pea being used to it and writing reminders for her on his hands etc. Extra fluff please
“What’s on your arm?” Veronica questions and you shrug. “Groceries.” She nods reading down the list; before she laughs. “Key’s in L pocket. What does that mean?” You blink pulling over your jacket. “Oh; it’s where I put my keys. He reminds me about it when I forget.” “Did your soulmate remind you where your keys are again?” Betty asks smiling as she sits down into the conversation. “Yeah, he does that sometimes; it’s nice knowing he’s looking out for me.” “You do realize that means he knows who you are! We have to find him!!” “Or her.” “No girl has handwriting that illegible.” “Don’t be mean to him! He’s my soulmate!”
“Who’s your soulmate?” Jughead asks as he sits down. “Well I don’t know; but he’s a sweetheart. He’s always writing down where I put stuff and making sure that I remember to finish homework for class; I swear he’s the reason I’m passing english, I’d never remember when the essays are due without him.” “You know that sounds kind of creepy right? Like your soulmate is watching you all the time.” Cheryl asks and you shake your head.
“He doesn’t just do that, he’ll write his own stuff down too! Besides what do you and your soulmate write then?” You laugh when Cheryl rolls up her sleeve revealing hearts and doodles of flowers. You roll up your other arm showing her something similar. “Left arm is notes and right arm is for fun.” “Okay that tops me by a mile.” Archie laughs strings of doodled jewel’s and random notes in flowing cursive. “Wow that’s some really-“ You watch Veronica pull out a marker scribbling something on her arm, Archie frowns watching a line of circles wrap around his wrist; an arrow forms point to his left and he turns as Veronica bumps her matching arm against his.
“Oh, holy shit.” “I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out.” “I don’t pay attention when people draw on themselves! My dad said it was rude to stare!” Archie defends himself, Veronica scooting closer and linking there arms. “It’s okay Archie my parents taught me the same. It faded on his arm.” “Yeah it does that once you meet, if I draw something it’ll show up, but it wont be as vibrant, as noticeable because we’ve met, we’re not searching for each other anymore.” Cheryl and you nod at Veronica’s explanation. “Same happened for me and Betts.” “Does that mean were going on a soulmate hunt for you then?” You roll your eyes when Cheryl shakes you excitedly.
“We can look for yours while were at it!” You grin and Cheryl shakes her head. “No one soulmate at a time!.” “Fine. I guess I’m up first then.” “So all we do is keep an eye out for anyone with matching lists and reminders. Could you write something to him so we know what to look for.” Archie nods. “Uhh, okay; what do I write?” Everyone shrugs. “Just whatever you want.” You chew your lip, instead of writing you doddle a snake wrapping around your wrist. “Why a snake?” “I think he’s a Serpent, or at least in a gang he writes weird lists sometimes.” “Has he written one we can see?” “Not recently.” You shrug.
Cheryl is interviewing the Bulldogs and half of the student body grabbing at there wrists while Betty and veronica apologetically explain what she’s doing. Jughead’s on Serpent duty, asking about anyone who has a snake on them goes about as well as he expected. “Not your tattoo you idiots!” He groans as everyone laughs. “You gotta be specific Jones!” “I was; I asked if any of you had a drawn on snake!” “The fuck you think a tattoo is?” You laugh in the background sitting next to Toni. “Sorry about dragging you all to Pop’s like this.” She shrugs doodling a daisy chain on her wrist, you can’t help but stare up her arm, doodles of flowers looping up them.
“Oh; your soulmate likes flowers then?” Toni laughs. “She likes pretty things.” You nudge her arm slightly. Narrowing your eyes at the cherry that’s been drawn in the crook of her elbow. “Hidden message; sort of a way for us to recognise each other if we ever meet.” “Not exactly hidden is it.��� You laugh and Toni rolls her eyes. “It is if you don’t go snooping on my arm Y/N.” You shake your head. “I didn’t mean you.” You nod gesturing to where Cheryl and Veronica have entered, Cheryl wearing her cherry print cardigan. “See?” You wave her over and she beams. “Holy fuck.” Toni mumbles. You laugh and Cheryl arches an eyebrow at you. ‘What?” “Nothing, just still trying to find my soulmate, Ronnie, can we talk to Jughead. Enjoy.” You wave slightly and leave Cheryl and Toni to talk.
“What’s wrong now Y/N?” “I’m really happy for Ronnie and Cheryl but like I was supposed to find my soulmate; I don’t want to say anything cause I feel like I’ll be whining.” You slump in your seat Kevin patting your back. “Fangs’ add another shake, vanilla right?” You nod pressing your forehead into the table. “Come on Y/N its okay to be bothered by not getting what you expect.” “I know but I feel like I’m being bitter.”
“And what if you are? Be a bitter bitch then.” You turn when Fangs slides next to Kevin and another Serpent nods to the spot next to you. “Sweet Pea, pleasure.” He smiles and you nod. ‘Y/N.” “Hey you have a snake on your wrist, did you guys tell Jones this is whoever’s soulmate he’s looking for?” “No they’re looking for me; I’m trying to find my soulmate.” Sweet Pea nods in understanding. “So what’s the sudden rush to find him?” “I just; he’s helped me through so much I just want to be able to meet him and thank him; at the least.”
“I’m sure you’ve helped him just as much.” You laugh shaking your head as you pull the shake they got you over. “I doubt it; he’s reminded me where to find my keys at least fifty times; helped me pass english by helping me study; and; just, he’s been there for me so much, even though I‘ve never met him.” “Well yeah that’s why he’s your soulmate right?” Fangs nods and you frown. “I know like everyone says that but just; ugh you remember what I was like before you met Fangs right?”’ Kevin’s nods and you finish your shake. “I should get home; call today a wrap.” “Y/N We were thinking about at the game; we could do like a cheer or something so- Oh are you going home?” You nod, yawning. “Yeah; just a little bummed over everything that, dammit.” “Whats wrong now scatter brain? You forget your wallet? You gonna dine and dash Kevin?” You shake your head chewing your lip. “I can’t find my keys; I swear i-“ “Left pocket.” Everyone turns to stare at Sweet Pea.
“You were just going to let her leave!!?” You cringe back as Cheryl shouts at him. Toni looks shocked but you can see the smile under her surprise. “Cheryl it’s fine; I get him not wanting to-“ You’re jerked back Sweet Pea pulling you back into your seat in the booth. “If you think for one second it’s cause I don’t want you; I’ll fight you in the parking lot.” “Sweet’s I don’t even remember where I put my keys; you have to write it down for me; do you really think I could take you in a fight?” “Okay bad choice but just; don’t think that okay?” You shrug. “Why wouldn’t I I mean-.”
“Hold on.” Sweet Pea pauses your pity party turning and glaring at everyone else who’ve excitedly gathered round. ‘Will you all fuck off please. I’m sure you’ll be able to pull ever detail out of us tomorrow okay. Can we have an alone moment.” Cheryl smirks arm looping wth Toni’s and dragging her, Fangs and Kevin off. Jughead nods to Sweet Pea before he, Betty, Veronica and Archie leave as well. “I would ask for you to continue but I don’t care about whatever reasons you have for thinking you’re not worth it to me. My opinion of you is not for you to decide.” He smiles warmly and you sigh. “I’m pretty useless on my own; I don’t have any good skills like you; I’m not in a gang, I can barely remember to get to school on time let alone-“ “Good thing you’re not alone then; you have me.” “But-“ He nudges your chin up  as he leans over kissing your cheek.
“Isn’t it a little better in person at least.” You swallow nodding. “Much better in person.” You add in smiling up at him. “Since we’re soulmate’s I should get to know more about you right?” “Of course; I think it only makes sense since you’ve helped me with my keys so many times you learn where I live.” You watch Sweet Pea jerk surprised. “Besides it’ll give them something to talk about.” You wink flickering your eyes to the side where Sweet Pea tracks them to see everyone piled in Cheryl’s car watching.
“How do you feel about motorcycles?” You grin as he offers you a helmet and you swing your leg over winking at the car as they all quickly look away. “So what lie are we going with? We made out for hours? We’re running away to get married? We’ve decided to start a band?” “Well one of those wont be lying.” “Which one?” You grin at him leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. “Guess.”
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marginalgloss · 3 years
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I turn 35 tomorrow. How better to celebrate that than with some notes on the handful of video games I have managed to finish over the last ten months. In no particular order:
Judgment (PS4)
Something I think about often is that there aren’t many games which are set in the real world. By this I man the world in which we live today. You can travel through ancient Egypt or take a trip through the stars in the far future, but it’s relatively rare to be shown a glimpse of something familiar. Hence the unexpected popularity of the new release of Microsoft Flight Simulator, which lets you fly over a virtual representation of your front porch, as well as the Grand Canyon, and so on.
I found something like the same appeal in Judgment, a game which took me longer than anything else listed here to finish — seven or eight months, on and off. Like the Yakuza games to which it is a cousin, it’s set in Kamurocho, a fictional district of a real-world Tokyo; unlike other open-world games, it renders a space of perhaps half a square mile in intense detail. I spent a long time in this game wandering around slowly in first-person view, looking at menus and in the windows of shops and restaurants. The attention to detail is unlike everything I have ever seen, from the style of an air conditioning unit to the range of Japanese whiskies on sale in a cosy backstreet bar. And this was a thing of value at a time when the thought of going anywhere else at all, let alone abroad, seemed like it was going to be very difficult for a very long time.
It’s a game of at least three discrete parts. One of them is a fairly cold-blooded police procedural/buddy cop story: you play an ex-lawyer turned private eye investigating a series of grisly murders that, inevitably, link back to your own murky past. In another part you run around the town getting into hilarious martial arts escapades, battering lowlifes with bicycles and street furniture. In another, you can while away your hours playing meticulous mini-games that include darts, baseball, poker, Mahjong and Shogi — and that’s before we even get to the video game arcades.
All these parts are really quite fun, and if you want to focus on one to the exclusion of the others, the game is totally fine with that. The sudden tonal shifts brought about by these crazy and abrupt shifts in format are, I think, essentially unique to video games. But the scope of Judgment is a thing all its own. As a crafted spectacle of escapist fiction it’s comprehensive, and in its own way utterly definitive.  
Mafia: Definitive Edition (PS4)
I was amazed when I found out they were doing a complete remake of Mafia, a game I must have finished at least three or four times in the years after its release back in 2002. Games from this era don’t often receive the same treatment as something like Resident Evil, where players might be distracted by the controls and low-poly graphics of the original. 
A quality remake makes it easier for all kinds of reasons to appreciate what was going on there. (Not least because they have a lot of new games in the same series to sell.) But in the early 00s PC games like this one had started to get really big and ambitious, and had (mostly) fixed issues with controls; so there’s a hell of a lot more stuff going on in Mafia than in most games of that era. It was also a very hard game, with all kinds of eccentricities that most big titles don’t attempt today. Really I have no idea how this remake got made at all. 
But I was so fond of the original I had to play it. The obvious: it looks fantastic, and the orchestral soundtrack is warm and evocative. The story is basic, but for the era it seemed epic, and it’s still an entertaining spectacle. The original game got the balance of cinematic cutscenes, driving and action right the first time, even while Rockstar were still struggling to break out of the pastiche-led GTA III and Vice City. 
They have made it easier. You’re still reliant on a handful of medical boxes in each level for healing, but you get a small amount of regenerating health as well. You no longer have to struggle to keep your AI companions alive. Most of the cars are still heavy and sluggish, but I feel like they’re not quite as slow as they once were. They’ve changed some missions, and made some systems a little more comfortable — with sneaking and combat indicators and so on — but there aren’t any really significant additions.
The end result of all this is that it plays less like an awkward 3D game from 2002, and more like a standard third-person shooter from the PS3/360 era. Next to virtually any other game in a similar genre from today, it feels a bit lacking. There’s no skill tree, no XP, no levelling-up, no crafting, no side-missions, no unusual weapons or equipment, no alternative routes through the game. And often all of that stuff is tedious to the extreme in new titles, but here, you really feel the absence of anything noteworthy in the way of systems. 
My options might have been more limited in 2002 but back then the shooting and driving felt unique and fun enough that I could spend endless hours just romping around in Free Ride mode. Here, it felt flat by comparison; it felt not much different to Mafia III, which I couldn’t finish because of how baggy it felt and how poorly it played, in spite of it having one of the most interesting settings of any game in recent years. But games have come a long way in twenty years.    
Hypnospace Outlaw (Nintendo Switch)
If this game is basically a single joke worked until it almost snaps then it is worked extremely well. 
It seems to set itself up for an obvious riff on the way in which elements of the web which used to be considered obnoxious malware (intrusive popups and so on) have since become commonplace, and sometimes indispensable, parts of the online browsing experience. But it doesn’t really do that, and I think that’s because it’s a game which ends up becoming a little too fascinated by its own lore. 
The extra science fiction patina over everything is that technically this isn’t the internet but a sort of psychic metaverse delivered over via a mid-90s technology involving a direct-to-brain headset link. I don’t know that this adds very much to the game, since the early days of the internet were strange enough without actually threatening to melt the brains of its users. 
(This goes back to what I said about Judgment - I sometimes wonder if it feels easier to make a game within a complete fiction like this, rather than simply placing it in the context of the nascent internet as it really was. Because this way you don’t have to worry too much about authenticity or realism; this way the game can be as outlandish as it needs to be.) 
But, you know. It’s a fun conceit. A clever little world to romp around in for a while. 
Horace (Nintendo Switch)
I don’t know quite where to begin with describing this. One of the oddest, most idiosyncratic games I’ve played in recent years. 
As I understand it this platformer is basically the creation of two people, and took about six years to make. You start out thinking this is going to be a relatively straightforward retro run-and-jump game — and for a while, it is — but then the cutscenes start coming. And they keep coming. You do a lot of watching relative to playing in this game, but it’s forgivable because they are deeply, endearingly odd. 
It’s probably one of the most British games I’ve ever played in terms of the density and quality of its cultural references. And that goes for playing as well as watching; there’s a dream sequence which plays out like Space Harrier and driving sequences that play out like Outrun. There are references to everything from 2001 to the My Dinner with Abed episode of Community. And it never leans into any of it with a ‘remember that?’ knowing nod — it’s all just happening in the background, littered like so much cultural detritus. 
A lot of it feels like something that’s laser-targeted to appeal to a certain kind of gamer in their mid-40s. And, not being quite there myself, a lot of it passed me by. Horace is not especially interested in a mass appeal — it’s not interested in explaining itself, and it doesn’t care if you don’t like the sudden shifts in tone between heartfelt sincerity and straight-faced silliness. But as a work of singular creativity and ambition it’s simply a joyous riot. 
Horizon: Zero Dawn (PS4)
I stopped playing this after perhaps twelve or fifteen hours. There is a lot to like about it; it still looks stunning on the PS4 Pro; Aloy is endearing; the world is beautiful to plod around. But other parts of it seem downright quaint. It isn’t really sure whether it should be a RPG or an action game. And I’m surprised I’ve never heard anyone else mention the game’s peculiar dedication to maintaining a shot/reverse shot style throughout dialogue sequences, which is never more than tedious and stagey.
The combat isn’t particularly fun. Once discovered most enemies simply become enraged and blunder towards you, in some way or another; your job is to evade them, ensnare them or otherwise trip them up, then either pummel them into submission or chip away at their armour till they become weak enough to fall. I know enemy AI hasn’t come on in leaps and bounds in recent years but it’s not enough to dress up your enemies as robot dinosaurs and then expect a player to feel impressed when they feel like the simplest kind of enrageable automata. Oh, and then you have to fight human enemies too, which feels like either an admission of failure or an insistence that a game of this scale couldn’t happen without including some level of human murder. 
I don’t have a great deal more to say about it. It’s interesting to me that Death Stranding, which was built on the same Decima engine, kept the frantic and haphazard combat style from Horizon, but went to great lengths to actively discourage players from getting into fights at all. (It also fixed the other big flaw in Horizon — the flat, inflexible traversal system — and turned that into the centrepiece of the game.) 
Disco Elysium (PS4)
In 2019 I played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons. I’m talking about the actual tabletop roleplaying game, not any kind of video game equivalent. For week after week a group of us from work got together and sort of figured it out, and eventually developed not one but two sprawling campaigns of the never-ending sort. We continued for a while throughout the 2020 lockdown, holding our sessions online via Roll20, but it was never quite the same. After a while, as our life circumstances changed further, it sort of just petered out.
I mention all this because Disco Elysium is quite clearly based around the concept of a computerised tabletop roleplaying game (aka CRPG). My experience of that genre is limited to the likes of Baldurs Gate, the first Pillars of Eternity and the old Fallout games, so I was expecting to have to contend with combat and inventory management. What I wasn’t expecting was to be confronted with the best novel I’ve read this year.
To clarify: I have not read many other novels this year, by my standards. But, declarations of relative quality aside, what I really mean is that this game is, clearly and self-consciously, a literary artefact above all. It is written in the style of one of those monolithic nineteenth century novels that cuts a tranche through a society, a whole world — you could show it to any novelist from at least the past hundred years and they would understand pretty well what is going on. It is also wordy in every sense of that term: there’s a lot of reading to do, and the text is prolix in the extreme. 
You could argue it’s less a game than a very large and fairly sophisticated piece of interactive fiction. The most game-like aspects of it are not especially interesting. It has some of the stats and the dice-rolling from table-top roleplaying games, but this doesn’t sit comfortably with the overtly literary style elsewhere. Health and morale points mostly become meaningless when you can instantly heal at any time and easily stockpile the equivalent of health potions. And late on in the game, when you find yourself frantically changing clothes in order to increase your chances of passing some tricky dice roll, the systems behind the game start to feel somewhat disposable. 
Disco Elysium is, I think, a game that is basically indifferent to its own status as a game. Nothing about it exists to complement its technological limitations, and nor is it especially interested in the type of unique possibilities that are only available in games. You couldn’t experience Quake or Civilisation or the latest FIFA in any other format; but a version of Disco Elysium could have existed on more or less any home computer in about the last thirty years. And, if we were to lose the elegant art and beautiful score, and add an incredibly capable human DM, it could certainly be played out as an old-fashioned tabletop game not a million miles from Dungeons and Dragons.
All of the above is one of the overriding thoughts I have about this game. But it doesn’t come close to explaining what it is that makes Disco Elysium great.
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