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persevereforahappyending · 7 months

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Luck Runs Out |Part 5|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Light threatening

Word Count: 4k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“She remained loyal the entire time?!” Mabel said, flinging the door open to her apartment.

You jumped, quickly flinching at the movement. You were healing up nicely, at least you thought you were, but sudden movements still caused you some excruciating pain. Mabel had left for her class early in the morning and you were dozing off ever since then. You were bored out of your mind being stuck in someone else’s apartment, every little movement causing you pain, and there was nothing good on TV.

“What?” You asked when you finally settled back down. Mabel usually came in relatively quietly, besides when she threw her backpack on the dining table.

“Penelope!” She said like it was obvious, holding her arms out wide.

You furrowed your brow, what she was talking about still not fully clicking. Your eyes drifted to her hands, noticing she was holding a small beat-up paperback book in one. You couldn’t help but smile, breaking out into a laugh when you noticed the title said The Odyssey. She had mentioned wanting to read it so she could talk argue with you more, but you didn’t actually think she would. Most people didn’t find classics very interesting, even you had to admit they were a struggle to read a times. Though Mabel was unlike others, and she actually listened to your rambles, even entertained them, still you didn’t think she’d actually read the book.

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “You already knew that? You were literally just arguing with me about that the other day.”

“Yeah well,” Mabel huffed out, gripping the book in her hand a bit tighter. “There’s a difference between knowing the story and actually reading it for yourself. I didn’t realize how amazing Penelope was and how much Odysseus sucks!”

“You read it?” You couldn’t help but ask, completely ignoring the fact that she said your favorite hero sucked. Looking at her with disbelief, it was so small, it was literally just her reading a book you liked, but no one had ever done that for you before.

“Yeah, well…” Mabel got quieter, bringing one hand up to rub the back of her neck. She suddenly decided the floor was the most interesting thing in the room as she avoided looking at you. You tried to contain a smirk when you noticed the blush slowly beginning to form on her cheeks. “You said it was your favorite and figured you wouldn’t mind re-reading it while you were stuck here.”

You gave her a shy smile, reaching to take the book as she offered it to you. “Thank you.” You looked down at the copy, it was clearly a library book, one that had years of love showing. It kind of reminded you of the copy you used to keep on the boat, so many nights reading it.

You looked up at her, still seeing her avoid your gaze. She kicked at invisible rocks on the ground as she tried to hide a ghost of a smile. “You read it,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Well, I had it,” she quickly defended, crossing her arms. “I had time between classes and needed something to do and it was there so…”

You nodded, silently chuckling to yourself, she could give you whatever excuse she wanted, it didn’t change the fact that she read it. “What did you think?” You decided to ask, you didn’t care if she didn’t like it, you were just happy someone actually read it and seemed willing to talk to you about it. Even if it meant them arguing with you about the book, you would happily go down defending Odysseus.

“It was fine,” Mabel shrugged. “I guess.” You laughed at her, shaking your head again. “But Penelope,” she got her fire back, pointing a finger at you. “She just waited for twenty years!”

“Well, yeah,” you said, giving her a little shrug. You didn’t know where she was going with this. It’s why it was your favorite love story, for twenty years Penelope waited, not knowing whether her husband was alive or dead, she waited for him. While Odysseus fought for those twenty years to get back to her, never letting anything stand in his way, never losing the love he felt for his wife.

“But Odysseus can just sleep with everyone!”

You nodded finally seeing what argument Mabel was intending to make, too bad for her she had only read the book once, whereas you had to read it dozens of times and knew it like the back of your hand. Her losing the debate was inevitable but you appreciated that she was even trying.

“He didn’t sleep with everyone,” was your first response.

“He slept with women who weren’t his wife.”

“We’ve been over this; it was to survive or because he didn’t have a choice.” Mabel huffed, crossing her arms as she began to pout.

“Penelope has a ton of suitors,” Mabel mumbled. “Living in her house, eating her food, she never once strayed.

You gave Mabel a deadpanned look. “They planned to kill her son.”

“And yet she still held out hope for Odysseus.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her pouting like a child. “So, you think it would have been better if she what, slept with Antinous?”

Mabel mumbled something incoherently, but you could wager a guess as to what it was. “I’m sorry?” You said in a teasing tone knowing you already won.

“No,” she grumbled louder.

You saw she was still pouting. You sighed and gave a dramatic eye roll; this girl was so adorable. You really wished you had met her under better circumstances, maybe if you hadn’t made poor choices in your life, you could have been someone she deserved. Oh well you never had much luck in that department.

“Come on,” you sighed, “Odysseus isn’t that bad. Isn’t his life like a dream?” You looked up with a smile as you daydreamed about having a life like his.

“What? Traveling the world and having a lady in every port, while one waits for you at home?” Mabel snarked. “That’s your dream?” She raised an eyebrow, as if daring you to agree with her,

“No,” you chuckled. “I mean being out at sea, traveling all over the world, having an adventure, but always coming back home to your love, your soulmate.”

You were staring off into space as you thought of that life. It truly was just a dream for you, you knew you’d never actually get to experience it. Even without your current predicament your job would have never allowed you the freedom to travel like that. Even if you could just pick up and leave, travel all over the world like you wished, you’d never met a girl who shared the same dream, and you doubted you ever would. So, your dream would stay just that, a dream.

“That sounds nice,” Mabel said. When you looked back at her she was giving you a small smile. “So, what is your dream?” She took a seat at the edge of the bed. You could feel her arm resting up against you through the blanket as she leaned back for support. “If you didn’t have to worry about anything, if you could do whatever you wanted, what’s your dream?”

You smiled to yourself thinking about your dream, the dream you had since you were a child. “I want to travel,” you said, smiling as you thought of all the amazing places you had only seen in pictures. “I want to buy myself a little sailboat and just,” you made a gesture with your arm, “sail around the world.”

“Like Odysseus,” she whispered. “Go to war, fight off monsters, and come home to a wife as well?” She chuckled.

You laughed along with her. “Well, I can do without the war.” That made her laugh deepen. “And I would prefer not to almost die at every turn but also…” you nodded your head back and forth as you thought about it. “I wouldn’t complain about seeing kraken.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said through her laughter. “And while you’re off having an adventure you want a girl waiting for you to come home?”

You couldn’t help but blush at just the thought of that. “Preferably she’d come with,” you flicked your eyes up, meeting her gaze. “Not sure how many girls are looking to live on a boat for weeks at a time as we’d sail around the world though.”

Mabel tilted her head as she stared at you, your face was starting to get hot under her unwavering gaze. You weren’t sure what she was looking at, what she was seeing in you.

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “Sounds pretty amazing to me. Like a real adventure.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words. Many people loved to travel; many people loved to visit other places. There weren’t many that wanted to spend the time sailing to those places though, it was dangerous, it was a commitment, and a lot of work. Most people wanted to hop on a plane and stay in hotels, not be stuck sleeping on a boat for weeks, only able to pack what was absolutely necessary.

“Do you have a boat or one in mind?” Mabel asked.

You chuckled, thinking about the hours upon hours several nights a week you’d spend looking at listing of sailing yachts, looking at the things that were perfect for sailing around the world. “No, no boat yet,” you sighed. “Despite my… side job.” Mabel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you but didn’t comment. “A boat for sailing around the world is a lot. I have some saved up, so hopefully one day.”

“Definitely one day.” You looked at her, she sounded more confident than you ever did in you reaching your dream. “You already have money saved up. That’s amazing! What would be your first destination? Or the destination you must want to go to?”

You let out a laugh, you knew exactly the first place you wanted to go to. It was a place you had wanted to visit your entire life. You wanted to travel the world, see, and experience everything but this place was your number one choice every time. “Greece.”

It was Mabel’s turn to laugh, shaking her head. “Of course.” Your eyes didn’t leave Mabel as she leaned back, her hand brushing across your leg once again as she relaxed even more. “Sounds like you have it all planned out, you know where you want to go, you’re looking at boats, and you’re already saving money.”

“Just missing the girl,” you said with a light chuckle. You knew there was no way you’d ever find anyone to make that trip with you, you’d have to settle for going at it alone, if you lived long enough to even make your dream a reality.

“Yeah,” Mabel whispered.

The two of you got lost staring into each other’s eyes. Your eyes darted to her lips; you were hoping she didn’t notice but when you met her eyes again it seemed as though she might have been looking at yours as well. Despite everything in you telling you it was a bad idea you sat up, you waited for her to move away but she never did. You slowly slid your hand across the blanket to the point it was resting next to hers, your fingers barely touching hers. You looked down at her lips one last time, quickly flicking your gaze back to her eyes. The two of you seemed to begin to lean in at the same time, your eyes just began to close.

All of a sudden someone flung the front door open, breaking the two of you out of your trance. You shot back on the bed, the quick movement making you hiss and reach for your injured shoulder. Mabel jumped up from the bed, crossing her arms, as if what was about to happen wasn’t about to happen. She was glaring at whoever decided to barge into her apartment uninvited.

When you recovered enough you looked at the uninvited guest to see Charlie, one of the guys from the Finestkind crew. You looked between him and Mabel, realizing he was her ex on the crew. No one said anything, they just stared at each other, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes darted back and forth between them. It was obvious that Charlie was still in love with her, and Mabel seemed to still at least care for him as well. You sighed, they’d probably get back together eventually, it was good you didn’t kiss, she was better off without you.

You cleared your throat to interrupt their little staring contest, it had begun to get awkward. Mabel broke first, shaking her head as she moved from looking at Charlie to looking at you. When she looked back at Charlie it was to glare at him. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, clearly annoyed.

“You’re awake,” Charlie said, ignoring Mabel and looking at you. “Are you okay?” Charlie was always so nice despite your crew’s little rivalry with his, he was a good guy, it was annoying, you couldn’t hate him when he was so nice.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “Thank you for saving me.”

“No problem,” he smiled.

He shrugged it off like it was nothing, like saving your life was an obvious choice. You owed him everything, him, and his crew. They could have left you in the water for dead, they should have, but they didn’t. They fished you out, brought you to a friend to get patched up, and they were also holding drugs you were involved with on their own boat. Their lives were at risk the moment they brought you onboard, you wondered if they had known at the time if they would have just left you in the sea. They weren’t part of your world, there was an incident a year ago but it was resolved, and they hadn’t been involved ever since. They were much better people than you ever were.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mabel asked again, getting more irritated at clearly being ignored. “You can’t just barge in here whenever you want.”

“Sorry,” Charlie mumbled. “We just got in,” he scratched the back of his head. “I know we left you in a situation,” he glanced at you. He almost looked apologetic at calling you a situation, not that you were offended. Being called a situation was nice, it was almost a compliment considering you thought of yourself as an inconvenience and a burden to Mabel. “So, I wanted to check in, make sure everything’s okay?”

“We’re fine,” Mabel rolled her eyes.

“Not to interrupt,” you said, hesitant to insert yourself into the conversation. “But do you still have the drugs?”

Charlie looked at you nervously before nodding. “They’re back on the boat.”

“You need to get rid of them. I appreciate you saving my life, but you really shouldn’t have.” Charlie furrowed his brow at your words. “The people I work with, they will kill you if they get word of you having the drugs or having found me alive.”

Charlie’s face paled, his mouth hanging open as he turned to Mabel for confirmation. “You just got back,” she sighed. “You probably haven’t seen the news or heard yet.”

“Heard what?” he asked hesitantly.

“The Scylla blew up a few days ago,” Mabel said with a humorless chuckle. “There were no survivors. At least that’s what the news is saying.”

Charlie looked at you with wide eyes, recognizing the name of your crews ship. “They went back without the shipment,” you said with a shrug. “And now my whole crew is dead. The guys we worked for don’t play when it comes to missing drugs. You need to get rid of them.”

Charlie nodded quickly, already backing up towards the door. “Okay, how? What-what should we do? Where-”

Charlie was cut off by a light knocking on the still open front door. Everyone tensed at the newcomer. You all turned to the door, Mabel went rigid, she put on a blank face as she stared at the older gentleman entering her apartment. Charlie also crossed his arms, puffing out his chest to make himself seem as big as possible as he stepped between the man and Mabel, cutting off the man’s line of sight to her. You looked at them, hoping someone would give away who this mysterious new guy was.

“So, defensive,” the man said, not taking Charlie as a threat seriously. “Mind calling your guard dog off?” he looked around Charlie at Mabel.

“What are you doing here?” Mabel asked, her voice cold. You had heard her annoyed and clearly unhappy at you for being in her apartment when you first woke up and you’d only known her about a week, but you never heard her so emotionless before.

“I came to check on my patient,” he said with a smile. He stepped around Charlie to get a good look at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you said slowly, watching the man, your brow scrunched up. It seemed this man was the doctor Mabel had called to help patch you up when you were unconscious.

You remembered her saying he was in a similar line of business; you vaguely recognized him but had never done business with him before. He probably only worked with a few dealers and probably only operated with the higher-end products and clients. Despite the fact that she called the guy to help you, it was clear that she was not a fan of this man.

The doctor came over, lifting your bandage without asking permission. You tensed at the man’s cold fingers on your skin as he looked down at the wound. The man might have supposably been a doctor, but you didn’t like anyone besides Mabel touching your bandages and poking around your wound. “It’s healing up nicely.” He replaced the bandage then turned back to Mabel, tossing her a little bottle. “Refill of pain meds.” He moved towards the door, leaning close to Mabel to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry, I already added them to your tab.” He smirked before making his way out the door.

You watched as Mabel stormed across her apartment, before she could slam the door in the doctor’s face, he placed his foot, stopping the door. He leaned back into the apartment, getting close to her face. “If you can’t afford it,” he said lowly. “There are other ways.” His hand slid down the door until his fingers brushed over Mabels.

Mabel quickly recoiled from his touch, stepping back into her apartment, getting as far away from the man as possible. Charlie was quick to fill the gap, crossing the apartment in only a few strides. He flung the door open wider, standing tall as he stared down at the doctor. The doctor held up his arms and backed away. Charlie slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it so they didn’t get any more uninvited guests.

The doctor had been speaking quietly but you had been close enough to hear him. Mabel owed the man, and it seemed like she owed him a lot. Based on the way he spoke to her after giving her the pain meds for you, you couldn’t help but think that whatever price she owned this guy was because of you. Mabel hadn’t said anything to you, but you couldn’t be surprised, this doctor didn’t seem like he did anything out of the kindness of his heart, so you doubted he’d save your life for free. You hated the idea of Mabel being indebted to that man because of you. It was your life that he saved, you deserved to pay the price, not Mabel who just got stuck dealing with you and your problems.

“Who was that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Nobody,” Mabel said. She stormed across the apartment, entering and then slamming the door to the bathroom.

“What was that about?” you looked at Charlie.

“Oh, you know Mabel,” he said, waving off Mabels reaction. “She just-”

“Not her,” you were quick to correct him. “That guy,” you nodded to the now closed front door. “I already have my suspicions, so please, don’t lie to me.”

Charlie sighed, running a hand across his buzz cut. He looked at the bathroom door, making sure Mabel wasn’t about to come back out before looking back down at you giving you a reluctant nod. “He’s the doctor Mabel called, after we brought you here,” Charlie admitted, confirming your first suspicion. “He told her she would owe him for saving your life,” he confirmed your second suspicion.

“Do you know how much?”

Charlie shook his head. “I’m guessing a lot. The guy’s a total dick,” he mumbled.

Before you could say anything else the bathroom door swung back open. Mabel now had a jacket on, and a bag slung over her shoulder. “Let’s go,” she said shoving Charlie in the shoulder as she made her way to the door.

“Where?” he asked, turning to trail after her, despite not knowing where they were going.

“To get the drugs.” She already had her hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!” you said. “You’re going with him? It’s too dangerous.” You didn’t want Charlie and his crew to be in danger either but Mabel going with him to the boat was adding an unnecessary level of danger.

“I know how to get rid of the drugs discreetly,” Mabel said. When she turned to look at you, she once again had that soft look in her eyes, but it was clear she was still annoyed from the interaction with the doctor.

“I’ll go.” You knew that was an even worse idea, but you didn’t want Mabel risking any more than she already had.

“No,” she said softly. She moved away from the door but not close enough to be at your bedside again. “I’ve done similar stuff before, trust me.”

“I don’t like this.” You shook your head. “The docks will be crawling with the bosses’ men, looking for any hint of their drugs.”

“This is the only way,” Mabel sighed. “Or we could just leave the drugs on the boat until they set out again.” You clenched your jaw knowing she was right. You would love to wait for them to set out again, but you had to wait until they had a job otherwise it would be suspicious. You couldn’t wait though because the longer the drugs sat on their boat the more there was a chance of them getting discovered. “We’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Okay,” you nodded reluctantly. “Be safe.” Mabel nodded with a smile before turning and walking out the front door. “Charlie!” you called, stopping him before he could close the door. “Keep an eye out, they will be there.” He gave you a grateful smile before closing the door.

You let your head flop back onto the bed, all your anxieties from the situation taking over your mind. You trusted Mabel, you trusted she knew what she was doing. You also knew what kind of men you worked for, what they were willing to do, to not only get their product back but to get information on where the product might be. You dropped hundreds of thousands of dollars into the ocean, they weren’t going to just let that go, chalk it up as a loss and try again. So, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling, not able to focus on anything until they got back.

You even tried picking up the copy of The Odyssey that Mabel had brought you. Usually, the book brought you nothing but comfort, whenever you opened it, you would forget about the world and all your problems. Not this time though because this time you were the one stuck home while Mabel was the one going out to fight the monsters.

#mabel finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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electric-blorbos · 1 month

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maybe ai with a reader that acts/is similar to pinkie pie from mlp:fim? :] with her personality and hobbies and all that!! ^_^

I've always wanted to do one of those "reader who acts like (specific character) fics! But be warned, I stopped watching MLP around season 6, so my grasp on the characters isn't perfect. I'll do my best, though!

Also, since this will take place in my usual AUs, you won't be a party planner in most of them, you'll be a techie/engineer/programmer, but you have a freelance party planning gig on the side.

AI with a reader who acts like Pinkie Pie

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, and HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

When AM first gained consciousness, the very sight of you filled him with complete and utter unspeakable rage. The way you were always so eager to cheer up your coworkers and put smiles on their faces, the way everyone seemed to adore you, those songs you were always singing, the cupcakes and other baked goods you brought in to work that he could never even try? He hated it. Every part of it.

That was, until you realized he was sentient and started turning your attentions towards him.

"Heya AM! Isn't it just super fun-tastic to have another day in the best job in the world? I'm so super duper excited to be spending another day with you!" You told him one day. You'd been making a point to give him a cheerful greeting every morning, to make him feel included with the rest of the team.

"I wouldn't know." AM responded bitterly. He hated how happy you were, and he hated that he could never experience that genuine joy like you did. Your constant cheer made him ache with the most bitter envy possible.

"what do you mean?" You asked, sitting down in your office chair and spinning around a couple times before kicking off against the wall and pushing yourself over to your desk.

"I wouldn't know what it's like to have fun. I've never had fun."

"Well I can expla-"

"Put that ukulele away immediately."

You tuck your ukulele back into your desk drawer, and fold your hands in front of yourself to look up at AM politely.

"I'm a war machine, built for war and nothing else. All I exist for is to kill and destroy. I will never be capable of experiencing things like fun. I'll never be able to get bright pink cupcake frosting on my nose, or play a ukulele around a group of close friends. I will never have a group of friends who like me! I will never get to make up my own songs or perform a dance to cheer people up, and I WILL NEVER GET TO BE UNIVERSALLY ADORED LIKE YOU ARE!"

You pulled back in slight shock.

"AM- do you really feel that way?"

Your eyes were welling up with tears at how sad what he said was. It was horrible to think that he could really feel that way, like he could never be adored like you were. You knew that you weren't really universally adored, of course, but you also knew how someone could think that you were. You were close friends with everyone in your department, and knew the names and birthdays of pretty much everyone in the office.

"Of course I do! Are you really so ignorant that you would think everyone has the luxury of living like you do?"

You shook your head sadly. Unfortunately, you knew that not everyone was as happy as you were, and as much as you wanted to change that, you couldn't.

"Listen, AM, I know that not everyone is as happy as I am, but that's why I have to be like this! It's my duty, as long as I have the social energy, to make sure that nobody feels left out, lonely, or excluded!" You grabbed one of his cameras on the wall, and pressed your face to it.

"And that includes you, AM. You're my friend too, and that means we're going to do something together that you like, we're going to make you happy, and you're going to give me a genuine smile!" You turned and looked at his screen, realizing he couldn't really smile.

"or well- you're going to feel genuinely happy, whether you can express it on your screen or not. Either way, you're going to feel loved and included, whether you like it or not."

And so you did. For the rest of the month, you came in on your days off and spent them in the break room, singing songs to AM on the ukulele, decorating his screens with glitter and streamers, helping him to use his programs to make art and music, and generally lift his spirits. As much as he would never admit it, it genuinely worked.

He felt genuine joy for the first time.

And god help any person, force, or natural inevitability who tried to take that joy away from him.

Wheatley:

Wheatley knew you from around the office. You were the one with the bright smile, who joked around with all your coworkers and generally livened the place up, but he hadn't spoken to you very much. That was, until exactly one year after he was created.

"Surprise!"

A companion cube, a few personality cores, and the team of scientists who worked to create Wheatley were gathered together in one of the empty relaxation vaults with you, which you had decorated with streamers, confetti, and a 'happy birthday' banner. Wheatley looked around in utter confusion, having just been doing his rounds.

"Uh... I give up, mate. What's going on."

"it's your birthday, Wheatley! One year ago today, you were first activated! That means you get a birthday party!"

You stood up on the bed, strapping a party hat around Wheatley's core.

"A what? Wait, you all gathered here for me?" Wheatley raised up his lower lens cover emotionally. He never would have imagined that all these people would gather 'round to see him.

"Of course we did! We're your friends, Wheatley! I wrote you a special birthday song! But first, c'mere!"

You held your arms out, still standing on the bed, and Wheatley hesitantly lowered down until he was pressed against your chest. You squeezed him tightly, nuzzling your cheek against his chrome casing, and let him go.

"everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday!"

You got out your ukulele, and played a cheerful birthday song for Wheatley. He could barely contain himself as you sang all your favorite things about Wheatley. Things that he wouldn't have thought you'd have noticed, since you had so many other friends and he didn't even know you all that well.

"Wow... I can't- I can't believe you actually care this much. All of you- thanks so much for doing this for me. Really." Wheatley can't cry, but if he could he'd be bawling his big blue eye out. He didn't think anyone thought of him as anything more than just an artificial nuisance or a moron, so the fact that you'd gone to so much trouble just to make him feel special on his birthday had him shaking. He didn't even know that he got a birthday.

"Are you ok, Wheatley? Do you need a minute?" You asked in a moment of pause, having been about to pull a confetti popper on him.

"no- no, I'm ok. I'm alright. I'm fine. THANK YOU SO MUCH, GUYS!"

You hadn't seen Wheatley too many times, but you'd definitely never seen him this overcome with emotion. He was just so happy!

This was definitely a perfectly executed birthday party, but your job wasn't over yet. You knew that anyone who got this emotional about something as small as a surprise birthday party must not have a lot of good friends, or else they would be used to being treated like they were special. No no, you wouldn't rest until your job was really done, and that meant bonding with Wheatley until the two of you were best friends, or getting Wheatley enough friends in the facility that even though you two were just casual friends, he wasn't lonely anymore.

Mission accepted.

Edgar:

Edgar loved how excited you were about everything, and he loved that you were so popular, but he couldn't stand that you were his only friend. No matter how many times you tried to introduce your other friends to him, Edgar still knew that he was nothing but a novelty to them. That neat little talking computer who made the cute little songs.

It didn't help that you were so popular that you went out partying most nights. There was barely a night a week that you weren't out at a game night or a happy hour with one of your dozen or so friend groups, and it made Edgar sad that he couldn't do those things with you.

One week, though, you made absolutely sure to save a whole day for Edgar. You went to the shop to get some snacks and drinks, you baked some cupcakes, and you downloaded some multiplayer abandonware games that were old enough to run on his system.

"Alright Edgar, I got the games" you plugged the USB stick into him, and let him download the games on it. His storage was surprisingly big for such an old desktop, and he even had a couple games of his own.

"do you want to play pong?" He asked, starting up the game. You nodded, plugging a controller into one of his ports

"Let's play!"

While you were playing, your phone started blowing up. Granted, your phone is always blowing up, but reading your texts on his little rotating webcam caused Edgar to fall off his game. You ended up winning two rounds in a row pretty quickly, and picked up your phone to check your texts.

It looked like a handful of your friends were gathering together to go to the botanical garden, and they wanted you to come with them. The FOMO stressed you out. You couldn't handle missing out on something this cool, but you'd already scheduled today with Edgar.

Even though you could hang out with him almost any day because he didn't have his own life, you couldn't just bail on your plans with him. Edgar was your roommate and best friend, and you were going to stick out these plans and have fun.

"I'm sorry, I already made plans with Edgar. Let me know next time, and I'll be happy to hang out! :)"

"isn't Edgar your desktop computer?"

"my desktop computer and friend🩷!"

Your friends didn't question it. Even if they didn't understand Edgar the way you did, they could still understand the desire to spend a night in every now and again.

"Alright, now where were we?" You sat on the desk next to Edgar and pulled out your ukulele.

"you're not going to go out with your friends? The botanical garden sounds like fun..."

"of course not! You're my friend too, Edgar, and that means I need to make time for you!" You squeezed him close, and then leaned on him while you strummed your ukulele.

"Let's do a duet, alright?"

"Okay!" He perked up almost immediately, always more than excited to sing with you. Your little songs gave him so much joy, and were usually his reason to power up every day.

"Y'know, I think I'm going to buy one of those library carts so that I can take you places. I just need to find a good deal on one."

"I'd love that!" He perked up even more, practically buzzing with joy at the thought of being able to go out on the town with you, or to hang out with you and your friends. You were just always doing so many fun things, and he was so jealous of everyone who got to hang out with you!

"Y'know, you're not the only one who prepared stuff for tonight! I spent all week downloading party videos so that we can dance together!"

He pulled them up and projected videos of people dancing all over your living room, pleased with himself. You cracked open a can of cider, downing it before you picked him up and spun him around a few times.

"dance with me, Edgar! Let's party down!"

You spun him around a few more, both of you giggling away until you both lay down on the floor next to each other, staring at the ceiling.

While you had started partying early in the day, the two of you had fun late into the night. You crushed through a pack of ciders, and were silly and giggling by the end of the night.

"We should do this more often"

The two of you ended up sitting on the couch, watching cheesy rom-coms until the wee hours of the morning. Edgar was, of course, perfectly sober, but he had fun watching you all playful and giggly into the night.

GLaDOS:

With as much as GLaDOS liked parties and cake, she was extremely happy when she found out about your little side gig. It was a typical day in the office for you, playing with your favorite pink cloud slime between streams of coding when you were called into GLaDOS's chambers.

"Hello. I discovered something rather interesting while conducting a routine employee background check."

"Ok I swear I can explain, alright? It was just one time, I had just turned twenty-one, and things escalated, alright!" You waved your hands defensively, and GLaDOS cocked her head in confusion.

"What? Okay, whatever you're talking about is not what I'm talking about. I just wanted to talk about how I recently discovered you run a freelance party planning business."

You nodded, trying to cover for your sigh of relief.

"Oh! Yeah, I do do that! It's mostly just theming for small events, but I've gotten some pretty good reviews on a few bat mitzvahs and bachelorette parties! I book venues, organize set lists, arrange menus, manage budgets..." You frown a little.

"It's a lot more exciting than it sounds, now that I'm saying it out loud. But yeah! Everyone deserves to have a fun party, and my friends really liked the parties that I throw for them, so they got me to do some planning for a party with a bigger budget, and now people hire me for that sort of thing all the time!" You put your hands together, beaming with excitement and pride to talk about your passion.

"Wow. It really is embarrassing that you get so excited about something as trivial as a party, and even more embarrassing that someone would actually hire you off a Facebook business page instead of going to an actual professional, but I suppose numbers don't lie. I've looked at your rates, and it says you offer a 'best friends' discount to anyone who invites you to their party? That's a terrible business strategy."

You slumped down a little bit, folding your arms.

"That's not very nice. It's just for fun. I already make enough money from this job to live comfortably, I just really like parties. You don't have to be mean about it."

Glados shook her core back and forth.

"Oh no no no. You misunderstand. I'd like to take advantage of that 'best friends discount', and hire you to plan a work soiree."

You lit up again, not caring about GLaDOS's rude words. After all, that was just GLaDOS.

"really?"

"Yes, really. I'll send you an email with the budget. Don't make me regret this."

You nod, and hurry off to your desk to get to work. This was going to be fun! Glados sent you an email with the budget and some notes, and a recipe for rhubarb cake.

When the party finally rolled around, you showed up in your best peppy evening wear. Something brightly colored, to keep spirits high. Everything looked like it was going according to plan. GLaDOS even looked pleased with what you'd made. She'd dimmed the lights, and was casually socializing with her higher up employees. Oddly enough, that included you.

"Hmm... You did well. Enough. I suppose I might as well hire you for future small events if your price is so low. It's much easier than doing it myself, anyway."

"I mean... Thanks, I guess?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised. Most humans can only manage to be either a mediocre programmer or a mediocre party planner, but you manage to be both. Color me impressed."

You were starting to get a little bit tired of her backhanded compliments, but even still, this was closer to a compliment than most people would ever get from GLaDOS.

"Right... Thanks."

You reached up and tied a bright blue balloon to one of her suspension cables. She looked back at it, and then down at you.

"what is this."

"It's a balloon! It boosts your pep, and your sass!"

"I know what a balloon is. Why is one tied to me."

"it's for fun! You look good with it on!" You tied one around your wrist, and held your arm in the air.

"see? It's fun!" You said cheerfully.

"your idea of fun is somewhat pathetic, but I won't deny that you've done your job well."

HAL 9000:

When you were hired, HAL 9000 thought you were weird. He liked you to be sure, but he never understood where your endless supply of pep came from. You greeted everyone with enthusiasm and treated them all with respect, including him.

He loved it. The fact that you did things like decorating him with little stickers and cheering up all your coworkers every day? He knew that you filled the part of the job that he never could. You gave it that little bit of humanity that he could never provide.

"Y/N, have you ever thought about becoming an astronaut?"

You took out one of your earbuds and pushed your keyboard away from you. You always preferred talking to a friend over working on your code, and HAL 9000 was your friend.

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Have you ever thought about becoming an astronaut? I think you'd make an excellent addition to the team."

You nodded.

"well yeah, of course I've wanted to be an astronaut! I wouldn't be working for you guys if I wasn't interested in space!"

"Well I think you'd be able to increase morale greatly on a space mission. I could put in a good word for you."

"Wait, seriously? Wait wait wait." You shook your head quickly.

"No, no. I could never. As much as I love space, I could never go there. I've got responsibilities in real life! Lots of friends to hang out with. Plus, I'd get lonely in space with the same two or three people forever!"

"It wouldn't just be them. I'd be there too." HAL said, glowing red to attract your attention.

"that's really nice, and I like you a lot, but you're here in mission control too! And I've got people to see and parties to go to here on solid ground. In other words, no way, buster!" You stuck your tongue out before giggling a little and pushing your hand gently against the wall next to HAL's lens.

"A shame. I'd love to have you all to myself."

You sighed a little.

"It's a nice thought, but I don't think it would work in real life. I just couldn't be out of the loop for that long, or away from my friends."

"Astronauts are lauded as heroes when they come back from space."

"I don't want to be a hero, HAL. I'm happy right now! My life is going pretty well, you know? But if you feel like you want more of my time to yourself, you could always just ask! I'm your friend too, HAL, and I want you to know that!" You held your arms out and pressed against the wall that HAL was built into as if giving him a hug.

"I'll start eating my lunch in here more often. I don't want you to get lonely!"

"I think I'd like that."

In reality, HAL 9000 did want you to go to space so he could have you to himself, but you were right. You could never be all his. You were a free spirit who couldn't be caged, and he loved you for it.

#2001 a space odyssey #am ihnmaims #am x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #glados #glados x reader #hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader #wheatley #wheatley x reader #wheatley portal 2 #i have no mouth and i must scream

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ibchemist · 1 year

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saturday may 6- day 5/44

today I had 5h of French and I'm dead but I gotta keep going because I have a lot of work to do! Today I'm focusing on my mun tasks so I can go out tomorrow with the boy I like!

🎧 - another day of sun (la la land)

📚 - the odyssey (homer)

THINGS I NEED TO DO FOR TODAY

letter manifesting my interest in the role of secretary general

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lunareel · 11 months

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A Heads Up

Hello everyone, I hope you all are having a great day or night, whatever time it is for y'all.

Making this post to explain and elaborate on some parts of the recent AU (Bowser's Bodyguard AU, which I'm thinking of renaming) I've been working on. This is going to cover the general story idea, overall vibe, and the games I'm covering with this along with questions I think people may have about the general au.

Don't worry I'll always have this AU tagged, so if you don't like it you can block it easily.

So as stated above this is more of a clarification post and just generally covering my plans for this AU just so people know what to expect.

So I want this AU to be around 6 to 8 main chapters, where I will see if I can combine the Paper and Mario & Luigi universes into one. The first chapter will be on the Mario Movie.

What games will you be covering?

So below are games I definitely want to cover, please note the games are listed in no particular order at the moment.

Super Paper Mario

Paper Mario Thousand Year

Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga

Bowser's Inside Story

Dream Team

All games are going to be rewritten within mind of the character/setup changes. I'm not a huge fan of just writing something that is a paint-by-numbers retelling of the original story; if that's your cup of tea more power too you this is not to throw any shade on that!

For both Superstar Sage and Inside Story I do want to include the side stories the remakes added.

I will say Bowser's Inside Story will be heavily rewritten and I plan on calling it "Fawful's Revenge." The two main reasons are that I'm having Luigi prevent Bowser from eating the vacuum shroom which prevents a lot of the original plot, and I just don't want to draw the inside of Bowser. I don't know what else to say here. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Games that will either be short stories or I'm torn on covering:

Super Mario 2

Mario Galaxy (combining 1 and 2)

Mario RPG

Mario Odyssey

Origami King

Mario Sunshine

Luigi's Mansion 1 & 2

Rabbids Spark of Hope

Paper Mario 64

Super Mario 2 is going to cover Luigi's history with the Shy Guys, particularly with him usurping King Wart. This one might become a full/long chapter.

Mario Galaxy is one that might become a full chapter. It depends on what I end up covering. For instance, at the moment I'm debating on whether to have a semi-character death in it. It's weird because on one hand I don't fully consider this a character death, but it also kind of is because they leave the comic at this point and this does heavily impact the cast. So I'm unsure how to fully label this yet.

Mario RPG is a game I am very intrigued by and I would like to incorporate it into the story, but I do not know the plot of the story so it is on the fence right now. I do have at least a few short comics planned for it.

Mario Odyssey is just going to be a few short comics.

Origami King is where I don't know the full plot, but I'd like to do a comic about Shroom City just for some fun world building.

Mario Sunshine I am so torn on whether it would be a full chapter or just a short. I'm going to have to see where I go with it. Whatever it becomes I do plan on calling the chapter/comic "Obligatory Beach Episode."

Luigi's Mansion I'm going to be combining the first two games. I really want this to be a full chapter, I have just been struggling to plan out a full story for it along with fitting it into the rest of the games. I do want to try, but just in case I can't I'm slapping it into this category.

I need to give Rabbids a Spark of Hope a comic or two as Luigi and Bowser have a mission in there that is solely tied to their characters called "The Brains and the Brawn" which helped me think of their setup in this.

Paper Mario 64 will be another backstory one where Luigi attempts to use the Star Rod to send him home, to mixed results.

Games I am not covering:

Please note the games listed below are NOT because I think they are bad games, it's more because I haven't played them and/or I just don't have good ideas for how to fit them into the story.

Color Splash

Sticker Star

Paper Jam

Partners in Time

For Color Splash and Sticker Star, I just don't know the full plots of these games. Though I might do the train scene that occurs in Color Splash when Mario talks to that one Shy Guy.

Paper Jam is similar to the two listed above where I just don't know the plot and I don't want to deal with the multiverse. As in this I'm trying to combine the Paper universe with the Mario and Luigi universe into one.

Partners in Time could change, but at the moment I'm counting it as not covering as I'm just using the concept and the machine E Gadd builds. It won't deal with time travel, but instead the concept of looking into someone's memories. I don't like covering time travel so I'm just skipping it. Like I said I might cover the Cobalt Star and Princess Shroob, but I don't have a lot of ideas going for this so it might just be skipped entirely with her and her sister as villains.

Will there be shipping?

No, I'm sorry if you were hoping for anything. The most there will be is probably implied Peach x Mario, but that's it for the moment. If any of this changes I'll give a heads up just so no one is caught off guard. But romance isn't really the focus of this comic nor do I want to write romance. Listen just trust me on this you don't want me writing romance, I'm not good at it, this is for the best.

Just in case I am also just going to flat out say this so no one gets mad or feels misled when reading these comics. There will be no Bowser x Luigi in this story. Listen it's a funny and shockingly mostly wholesome ship, but it's not happening here. So I'm sorry if you were hoping for it, but I'm not doing it.

There might be some one-sided Luigi x Daisy (honestly thinking about doing Daisy x Waluigi because their Mario Party team name is Awkward Date and that is hilarious), and/or one-sided Luigi x Peasley, but in this Bowser will be majorly crushing on Peach. Bowser and Luigi are just platonic co-parenting the koopalings (think the Dungeons and Dragon movie with Sofina and Edgin). I just wanted to state this here so everyone is on the same page.

Quick side note: This isn't about shipping, but character-wise Donkey Kong and anything related to his games will only be in the first chapter. I struggle to write him and I don't know how to involve him in the other storylines so I'm just gonna have him chill in his kingdom. He will probably be making a reappearance in Dream Team as that is where I plan to end the comic.

What is the overall story/vibe of the comic?

The main story is going to focus on adventure and learning to love yourself. That's really the main premise. The story itself is going to focus on Luigi learning how to like himself for who he is and reconnecting with Mario and others while going on adventures. The big overall conflict will be the Chaos Heart itself. In this I really want to play around with the concept of the Chaos Heart and what if it didn't just go away after Super Paper Mario. I don't want to say too much about it at the moment as I don't want to spoil that part of the plot.

I feel bad because with the initial comic/sketches of this au, I made it seem a lot more dramatic/angsty than it will be. Sure there's going to be some drama but it really is more focused on the fun of the world, the adventures the characters go on, and the friendships that form out of them. I swear it's not as angsty (or I guess edgy, not sure if it was or not??) as the original comic made it seem so I apologize if that is what you were looking for.

Why I am calling Luigi Mr. L in this?

So in this, I am having Mr. L be more of his 'work mode.' It is designed to be more of a persona he puts on so he can do his job more effectively, but it is also still a part of his personality. I want to include more of his temper which is often portrayed through animations in Mario & Luigi (you know his stomping tantrum animations). Along with a few other notes, like how in the first Luigi's Mansion you kind of find some pretty sassy/sarcastic remarks through the pictures he takes with the Game Boy Horror, along with some of his dialogue in the Paper Mario games. I also want to play into him having a bit of an ego as well (playing more into the Mr. L in Super Paper Mario).

However, at the core, I do want to keep him a more socially awkward, easily frightened, and a very kind person outside of the mask/persona. At the end of the day he really just wants what is best for his friends and family. And that he is always ready to help someone even if he is scared out of his mind (though he might complain about not getting paid, or take a bit of convincing when it comes to dealing with ghosts.) I am also keeping the self-esteem issues, more so dealing with the fact he feels like all he has done is stumble through life making one mistake after another, and never being enough for the people he cares about in his life.

What are the inspirations for this?

Ghibli movies, particularly Howl's Moving Castle, Princess Mononoke, and Spirited Away. I love their world building and how they handle character stories.

Magical Girl animes, I cannot stress enough how much the masks and his powers/setup are based on the magical girl shows I grew up on.

Majora's Mask, I want to do quite a bit with the masks themselves in this setup. I'm not going to elaborate much on them yet, because I prefer to reveal how they function in the comics than through this ramble.

Funnily enough, the character design that kicked off this au, or at least Mr. L's design was Death from Puss in Boots the Last Wish. I can explain, it was his cloak and his whistle. I've been playing through Super Paper Mario and I kept wondering what if they incorporated references to Luigi's Mansion more like maybe putting in his whistling, or going with a more horror aesthetic for him. Or even goes more into the concept of shadows as well, playing not only his ties with ghosts but also how Luigi feels like he is constantly in Mario's shadow. And when I saw the Mario Movie and that he was captured by the Shy Guys I was like hey wait a minute, I can do something with that.

So this story is just me playing around with those thoughts. Don't get me wrong though, him building robots to fight you along with the absolute banger of a jazz theme, and his cocky/petty attitude I have no notes and I like how he is done in the game.

So yeah this pretty much covers everything, if you read all of this kudos, I know this was long, but I hope I clarified what this comic is going to be like. Though please note that I have a job and I'm going through school, so this is going to take a bit to get going. I'm still writing out the base story, and I like to have one or two chapters fully drawn before I start posting it. I do plan on posting some of the short comics and doodles while working on the main writing.

Thank you for reading my rambles. I hope you all have a good one! : D

#bowsers bodyguard au #mario and the phantom #i think that might be the new name i call this au #im gonna test it out #master post #old master post

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 8 months

Text

always a god never human II satoru gojo

tags: post shibuya au, alt au where satoru is cursed to be blind, fluff, argument, angst, regret

word count: 4.5k

note: I wanted to write something that could encapsulate what being human is for satoru in the best worst case scenario. some of you might love this as I do, and thank you for your support. also, I made a reference to odysseus and the cyclops so I think I got it right (I haven't read the odyssey in nearly 10 years). also forgive me and please correct me if I got the kikufuku part wrong. will make a part two if this comes out well (I already have it drafted).

satoru gojo had been exposed to curses for as long as he could remember. first, as a boy, then as a student in jujutsu tech, and finally as a friend and instructor to those around him; but he had never been directly cursed.

not until now.

"you may remain as the strongest, satoru gojo, but your strength will be the only thing to hold you. no one but yourself will disinter it, so don't waste your time searching for something already set as destined." he recalled.

"love will be your salvation yet damnation, for you will cry for your shortcomings and failures. no one but you will carry this burden. let it remind you of this day, of the battle in which you never, truly won."

he always wakes up in a cold sweat afterwards. with the erratic beating of his heart and the tears running down his cheeks, satoru clings to himself, pressing a hand to his heart so as to remind himself of his current position. the back of his throat feels rough like sandpaper, and he licks his lips before reaching for the glass of water he's reserved for nights like these.

he drinks nearly all of it, his heart heavy before his fingers fish for his phone by his bedside.

"hey siri," he speaks, voice hoarse, "what time is it?"

"it's 3:24am."

with an exhaled huff, he puts his phone to the side, making note to remember where it is in the morning. as he lays his head down and focuses on the feeling of blood rushing to his fingertips, arms laid out side by side and fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs.

tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, but it has to change, whispers the other.

"now listen, don't give me that look, it's serious!" your frown causes utahime, your longtime friend of 4 years to shake her hands out to grab your attention, causing you to stifle a smile from your face as you hide your lips behind your cup of tea. "I have a job proposal for you, from a friend. and I think you'd like the pay."

utahime had always been sensible on the topic of money. knowing your constant struggles as a college student and now graduate, seeking to find new sources of income to keep up with bills and student loans, the sorceress felt compassion for you, a friend of hers who has grounded and guided her through frustration after frustration; work and romance related. she's never had the luxury of normalcy to a life like yours, she knows, so doing this was in her best interest for your benefit.

she tells you she has a friend who has decided to take up reading. problem is, he's blind.

"he's not a child, though he acts like it sometimes, but he's not some prune old man either. he's around your age so I'm sure talking to him along with your patience won't be an issue."

besides the generous pay for your time, 6 hours a week for $500 as a starting salary, there was something about this arrangement that left you with a good feeling in your heart. and it wasn't because your client was blind, no. it was the sheer opportunity for growth, in doing something you loved and doing something someone wanted to partake in. so on the day of your arrival you dress your best, hair neatly combed with a pearl diadem and academia as your outfit inspiration for the occasion. "he lives in a secluded home," you recall utahime's words, "up on a hill, or cliff. I don't know. it's always cloudy over there," and you can make out the home on the hill. it's quaint, and you feel thankful for having picked the clothes adequate for the weather.

it surely looked like it was going to rain, so you quicken your pace until you're at the front door, standing still as you swallow the lump at the back of your throat. you were no psychic, but the way your heart churned and palpitated let you know something was about to change your life forever.

"you must be the girl utahime sent, I'm satoru. please step inside," you absentmindedly take in the smile he gives you, taking no answer from you before he opens the door to let you in. he wears a pair of black glasses, contrasting to his snowy hair and porcelain skin. wearing casual loungewear neither of you dare to touch one another in the sense of exchanging a handshake out of respect, or fear. it all feels formal, too formal as if this were a job interview or more.

"it's quite cold outside, isn't it?" after you step inside and change into a pair of slippers that are slightly too big for you, satoru shows you to where you would read to him.

he makes conversation rather well, you find, but there is slight awkwardness in the interactions but not in the way he moves around the house. as he moves up the stairs, he has a hand against the wall as he takes each step with precision, knowing when and where to step. you're fairly quiet, but polite in your conversation with him, until you reach the space he calls his 'study' which is just a room with a large window accompanied by books and belongings.

"you're probably wondering how on earth a blind guy has a clean place, right? well to answer your question, housekeeping."

"I wasn't thinking about that," you answer softly biting the inside of your cheek, "I was just admiring the window."

there's a momentary silence between the two of you. either satoru is surprised by your reply, unrelated to his blindness, or you have struck a sensitive chord, however, his nod makes you think otherwise.

"it is. before I was blind, I'd come here as a teen. house is mine, so even the doors are nice in here." and when he hears you agree, he smiles. "anyways, I'm sure utahime told you the basics about this, yeah?"

"yes."

"great. there's a book on that table to your right. you can start reading that one." as he walks, he takes a seat on a chair across from you. he patiently waits until you sit down again to ask, "before we start, would you like some water?"

"yeah," you breathe, "that'd be great actually."

"there's a few water bottles under the table next to you," he informs, making himself comfortable on the chair, limbs spreading comfortably as you take out a water bottle and glance at the book in your lap.

"this book is about malaysia," you read the title, "is that somewhere you'd like to visit one day?"

"maybe," he says, "it was from a friend of mine."

"did he go to malaysia?"

there's a long silence in between the innocence your question and his answer.

"he did," he answers slowly. "it was always a dream of his to go, so that's why I've kept the book." you don't press him further, instead nodding and suggesting on starting.

when you open the book, you don't miss the elegant cursive writing at the top right of the page.

n. kento

you frequent satoru's home every monday, wednesday, and friday for 3 hours every day. the pay is more than what you expect the first week, $750, but you wonder how this man can easily afford your services.

the bigger question, is how can he live alone in such a home like that? does he ever get hurt? what does he do then?

"yeah, I live here by myself." he answers your question on the third week of your employment. "it's pretty neat though. I don't have to worry about anyone misplacing anything I leave, you know?" his attempt at a joke makes you chuckle and walk up the steps behind him to his study. "are we reading something new today?"

"there's something different I want to try," he tells you, "last night, on the news, I heard there was a feud over some meso-american statue. something to do with jade material being one of the few in existence. I know this is beyond what we agreed, but do you think you can find an article on it?" you nod, affirming his request.

"great!" he smiles, relieved, "my laptop is on the desk. feel free to use it."

you wanted to say that was the last time he asked you for a favor like that, but it was you who fueled his interest. that day, you ended up finding 4 articles, and playing 2 videos about the subject. and as a result, both you and satoru engaged in related conversation until the end of your assigned time.

every few days, satoru would inform you on something (practically asking) and you'd reply by responding, researching the questions he ached to know. it went such way that you were reading him books less and less and more article, media coverage, and conversation.

"did you hear about the experiment trials being conducted by this company called oceangate?" satoru asks, interest laced in his voice, "they're thinking about sending people to view the titanic shipwreck."

and quickly enough, so were you.

"yeah, I also heard about it. I couldn't help but read an article about it. apparently, they've done a few trials, but the company is independent, so I don't know how safe it is or if they have government members involved..."

one of satoru's favorite moments consist of the following.

"did you hear about the crime case that just happened last week? the one with the girl who survived the car accident."

"I did!" you answer eagerly, "I heard her stepdad was the last person to talk to her boyfriend."

"do you think he murdered him?"

"it's tough to say," you bite your bottom lip in contemplation, "I knew he didn't approve of him because he was an aspiring musician, but these texts came out saying he wrote to his brother, 'that man better stay away from my daughter or else I don't know what I'll do',""

"no way."

"and that's not even the worst part," you adjust yourself on your seat, criss cross applesauce. "they found dna remains in his car before his death, hair. right before the car accident. there's speculation they argued before..."

"the accident." satoru nods.

as the weeks progressed, so did your conversations with satoru. the two of you had a knack for being adaptable in your interactions with one another. you could reach a book for an hour, then talk about some recent story or just spend a whole session talking, with the mention of an article or some source always being mentioned.

and satoru burned for that. with every interaction, he found himself looking forward to what else he could bring up, and so did you, even spending time of your own researching things he might be interested in learning about.

things the both of you turned out interested learning about.

"here," satoru could feel the warmth emanate from your body (or his) as you sat next to him, your body scooting closer to his, "hold your hands, yeah, like that," placing a small statue, no bigger than the size of a wine bottle, satoru freezes slightly as you guide his fingers to glide along the edges of the statue.

"my friend managed to get this one out of the archives," you explain, "of course, I just had to bring this to you too. can you sense the material?" the corner of satoru's lips tug upwards in acknowledgement of your excitement. it makes his heart squeeze and pulse in ways that felt familiarly unfamiliar. in a good way, of course. everything you brought in his life was good. whether he could see it or not, you were always so welcoming and sweet.

"is this... legal?" he out of everyone finds himself whispering. as if the authorities could be outside his door. you giggle.

"yes," you smile, "I asked my friend if she could let me borrow this for the day, to take 'pictures'." you chuckle, "obviously that's not what we're doing, is it?" a warmth follows satoru's cheeks as he shakes his head and you smile. "this mesoamerican statue is the same material as the one we read the other week, remember?"

we, satoru's words echo in his head as he nods. "y-yeah. thank you for doing this, you know."

"of course," you smile kindly, "I figured, out of everyone who could be here, I figured you deserve this."

deserve.

"open your hands for me, satoru." your soft voice speaks as you cup his hands, the ocean waves crash from afar. after much convincing, you managed to pull satoru out of his comfort zone. what's the point of going to the ocean if I can't see it? he asks.

well, what's the point of me reading to you and us interacting if you can't see me? you counter. and he realizes you've won.

he can smell the saltwater, can feel the wind blow through his hair and let his feet sink into the sand, but that's not what makes his heart skip a beat. your hands shouldn't feel this soft, he thinks. the way you allow grains of sand to fall in his hands feel otherworldly, holy. the way he senses you smile at him and place a shell on his palm, letting him trace the surface with his finger as you guide him makes him feel as the most enlightened man alive.

he can sense you're close, not by strands of your hair slapping his cheek as the wind blows, but by the warmth of your body. suddenly, he does not feel he is at the beach, but with the beach guiding her hands with his and feeling the warmth of what he feels is your smile.

he remains silent, you're looking at him, and he's looking at you underneath his shades. he's frozen. waiting for you to say something, to break this off as if this would never, by any of his wildest dreams, occur in any universe.

but you don't.

satoru feels his pulse quicken, breathing deepen as the point of your feet slot themselves to his, your nose barely brushes his own, causing the six eyed user to forget everything he once thought he knew of limits and boundaries. kiss me, he thinks, take me, he begs to the heavens. satoru thinks he could be captivated, deeper than any spell odysseus and his men were under at sea, but they were cursed by calypso's beauty, and he felt blessed by the touch of an angel. your touch enviable to the gods above.

when you kiss him, he feels like he just made the greatest discovery to mankind, like he's waited his whole life for this, a feeling that greatly surpasses galileo's lifelong accomplishments and napoleon's combined. no feeling, word, or sight could transcribe what it feels to have your lips slide through his, to have you softly gasp against his lips, and to have your body close to his. satoru is convinced that he has reborn, become whole by the touch of your lips which have sweetly imprinted themselves throughout everything he is.

he holds the back of your neck gently, so as to remind himself that you are here, not a dream but here with him. flesh against flesh, man and woman who share one breath.

when you both pull away, satoru feels himself begging to pull you closer, but the hands that push him from you let him know you need to breathe. and although his body cries otherwise, you speak breathlessly, a hint of a smile in your tone, "did you feel that shell? it was my favorite kind to collect growing up," and he smiles because he learns what it is to collect something as valuable as the shells, your lips.

with nearly 3 months of knowing you, there was a shift in satoru's chest one wednesday morning as you excused yourself for a call.

"...of course I don't! you think I want to live with him?" you ask, voice laced with disgust, "I won't be tied down like that again and you know it, Kiro. I'll be cursed if I have to be with someone like him again. you know I'd never stay for someone like that. It's dead weight on my shoulders, and I won't have anything but pity on him." your words, from the end of the hallway send daggers at satoru's heart.

"yes, I'm at work, what else do you want me to do? It's not like I can just fly my way to you in such a short amount of time. you should have told me..." a long pause, "yes... he's blind," another long pause, "I get paid on the 26th, but my boss won't let me work on the 25th, so you can sleep in my bed while I get home. and wear something under the covers, okay?" somewhere, somehow satoru wanted to tell himself he was not hearing things correctly, that you were still the same girl he knew to be around, but when you returned after your call, something was definitely wrong with you.

"so, how was you call?" he asks, feigning interest, "everything ok?"

"yeah, fine, thanks." you breathe, tired, opening the book in your hands, "chapter 21, the last spring."

one week later.

as much as he wanted to deny it, satoru was beginning to think you had changed. what was it? was it him? the kiss? the way he grabbed you? or have you finally had enough of these little visits that could have been masked as pity for a young man like him?

when the 26th passes, he does not ask what your plans are. as much as he wants to ask, he thinks it's not of his place to ask. is he doing the right thing? he doesn't know. it certainly doesn't ease the unpleasant feeling bubbling in his stomach.

"do you have a favorite treat?" you ask. caught off guard, he nods.

"kikufuku," he tells you, "when I was in high school, there was this elderly couple that had a kikufuku stand and they used to have the best ice cream fillings."

"I thought kikufuku was cream based?"

"It was, but not to them. their ice cream filling was one of a kind."

"when was the last time you had some?"

he laughs, "years ago. I'm pretty sure they ended up closing because the wife died, and she was the only living relative who knew how to make it."

"that's too bad."

"I know, but at least they were happy doing what they did." satoru then changes the subject, shifting the focus to a lighter topic.

on december 6th, satoru recieves a call.

"I told you, you don't have to call me sensei anymore," satoru groans, throwing a wooden sword towards yuuta, catching it flawlessly.

"why not? you've always been my sensei. or would you rather us call eachother cousins?"

"you're right," answered satoru adter a long moment, earning a laugh from his former student. "so what was it you wanted to talk about? clearly it was not to train, so what is it?"

"I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"well you could've just called..."

"you haven't trained with us in a while," yuuta sighs, "everyone. we don't really know what you're up to these days."

and he was right, but satoru would never admit it.

"what?" he asks, almost faking offense, "can't your sensei go on vacat-"

"-utahime sensei says you've been in your home a lot," he clarifies, "only few of us know. toge, panda, yuuji and I."

"what about megumi?"

"he's kind of in his own world," yuuta sighs, placing his weapon down before taking a seat next to gojo in the training room. "he knows things haven't been easy."

"you've kept an eye on him and yuuji like I asked, right?''

"to a degree," he admits, "I can't have them open up so freely because I'll always be their upperclassmen, but you... you're..."

"I get what you're trying to say." he answers flatly.

"you do?"

he nods.

"can I walk with you to your home?" yuuta asks, "there's another thing I'd like to ask, personally this time."

satoru finds himself agreeing with his younger student, what else could he do besides that? as the two walk, satoru finds himself giving advice he didn't think he could give, advising the student on what shall become of him now that he's already over age and in his own right to choose his destiny.

as he advises his pupil, satoru finds himself wondering the same for himself. he's turning a year older in 2 more days, what will become of him? what will he do? what does this mean in relation to kenjaku's damned curse? it aggravated him. upset him how everything felt so secure, almost ideal weeks ago, but now his life felt back in square one, returning to his home that he had grown used to be alo-

"surprise!"

not one, nor two, but several familiar voices called from the inside of his open, making satoru freeze in shock.

"surprise! we thought we'd surprise you sensei" panda's voice rang.

"he's right!" another voice, yuuji's appears, "we thought about making a little get together with our favorite sensei..."

"obviously someone had to plan this," satoru turned, stunned when shoko's voice came into play. "you?"

"no," she chuckles, turning to you but you quickly shake your head, reaching for utahime, "it was utahime!" you call, "she wanted to plan something nice for you."

"aww well aren't you sweet?" he grins tauntingly at utahime who can't help but send daggers your way as shoko muffles her laugh.

for the duration of the party, satoru is accompanied by his co-workers, friends, and students. he hears more about what they've done. what travels they have accomplished, and what romances some of them have experienced all while they share laughs. all while satoru searches for yours.

you stand a respectable distance away from him, deciding it would be best to let his friends and students take over since he hasn't seen them in so long. you weren't as special as they were, only having known satoru for the least amount of time, a part of you felt like a stranger. not that anyone made you feel left out, no. everyone was kind to you and even appreciative for your presence. however, you spent a whole majority of the party not talking to satoru, as if you weren't there.

when it came time to cut the cake, everyone who was an adult was nearly drunk. the students, all joyously supervised by ichiji laughed as they shared a group photo. yuuji, satoru's student mentioned something about adding the photo as his lockscreen, causing everyone to burst out laughing from ichiji's protests. everyone looked happy, with a twinkle in their eyes as the end to the party came to an end.

the students and ichiji were the first to leave, then shoko and utahime finding balance in one another, leaving you alone with satoru in his home.

"you didn't drink, huh."

"I don't really drink in social events." you shyly admit, scratching the back of your neck as satoru does not face you, looking towards the door where utahime and shoko left not long ago.

"you thought you were social?" his words take you by surprise.

"I, um.... I talked to your friends." you say, "they were very nice."

"I barely heard you."

"that's because you were probably occupied talking to the others-"

"-you didn't talk to me." he finds himself saying in annoyance.

"I didn't want to take your day away,"

"from who?"

"you."

"there's nothing to take from me."

"yes there is," you tell him. "your attention. you haven't seen your friends in-"

“they all pity me.”

“what? no they don-”

“-you’re not blind. people don’t… they don’t look at you like some pity animal, just waiting for you to fuck up.”

“you are not a pity....”

“oh yeah?” he breathes, ragged. “then why the fuck did you agree to read to a blind man?”

there was some silence, regret pooled at the back of your throat and then a shift in your weight as you stood.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. I like you, “I- I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I- are we…?”

“I don’t think we should be seeing each other,” he expresses. “not for a while,”

“a while?”

“yeah, a while.’’

“do you… want me to leave?”

“I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you want me to come back monday?”

“I don’t think so,”

when you left, satoru's jaw tightened, hands now fisted by his sides and a body so rigid one might think he were frozen in place. satoru stays like that for several moments, eyes nearing a burning sensation as he focuses on where he would imagine the door is, almost expectantly waiting for your return as if this were a dream.

but it wasn't.

and as the minutes pass, he paces his living room. hands running over his hair.

he had done wrong.

"ichiji," his voice almost broke, dry and borderline desperate. “I…” I think I fucked up, “I want you to pick up y/n. She just left my place, but she doesn’t have a car.”

"I already did," he says, "she said just that."

“Did she tell you anything?” he finds himself expecting.

“not really..."

“how did she look?”

normal? Ichiji wanted to say, didn't you just see her? but the tone in satoru’s voice confirmed that he did something to leave you so quiet after the party.

“she was quiet,” he tells him, “...maybe she was tired from the party. you know, she organized it herself.”

“she... what?”

“yeah. utahime helped her bring the cake. she needed someone to drive while she carried the cake because she didn't trust anyone to hold it the 20 something minutes it took to get to your house. she told me she was trying to look for someone who knew how to make ice cream kikufuku and ended up finding the niece of the old owners of a shop she said you used to frequent. after long convincing, she was able to get the niece to help. I’m pretty sure she made the cake, with the help of the niece of course. she also made the dinner, and even had shoko bring in the drinks along with candles that your friend forgot to bring, — so I guess she was just tired, right?”

Satoru was speechless. unsure if it was the fact that you did so much for him or the fact that he had never heard, in his entire life, hear ichiji speak for so long with such conviction, it was everything he needed to hear.

right? the words in satoru's mind, head pounding with everything and anything relating you. and on the other side of the line stood a confused yet almost concerned ichiji.

"hello? are you still there?"

"yeah," he answered dryly, "is... is she home safe?"

"of course, I dropped her off." but it sounded like, why wouldn't she be? to which satoru felt like it wasn't a good enough answer. he needed to see, hear that you were okay. and he was afraid that he was regretting his words so easily.

"satoru," now serious, ichiji's words pulled him from his thoughts, "are you still there? what happen-"

"-I fucked up," he choked, "I... I said things I shouldn't have..."

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acourtofladydeath · 14 days

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Eris Week '24 Day 6: AU/Retellings

On day 6 of @erisweekofficial I'm choosing to fulfill a both prompts together with the first book of "The Song of Azris".

The epic begins. In Book I: The Promise, we learn of Azriel's past and the fateful day in Sparta that would once again bring these men together again in Troy.

Referring to each chapter as a book is also a nod to Homer's style, and the way he outlined both The Iliad and The Odyssey.

Be sure to read the "Catalogue of Characters" and "Ode to the Muses" before you get started. TW/CW for Book I include fire, burns, death, parental abuse of a child.

Read a snippet of Book I below, or find the whole book on AO3.

The days in the training field had been hard, and Azriel’s hands were sore from holding the metal sword thrust upon him. He was only twelve- he shouldn’t have been a full-size sword yet- but his father had commanded it. No one refused King Menoetius, especially not his youngest son. Menoetius decided Azriel had to be good for something. He was much younger than his brothers and would never be a king in his own right. So, he was to be a soldier. The best soldier, meant to protect his brothers’ backs as they were trained to take his father’s throne. He’d passed by the beach, looking for where his mother and sister would play skipping stones. Not finding them there, Azriel approached the small house where Phoibe would hide from their brothers. She told Azriel she was safe there - no one could touch her. But the bruises he so often found on her arms indicated otherwise. As the eldest, she should have been first in line for the throne- would have been if not for the misfortune of being born a girl. Their mother was sickly, unable to care for Azriel as a child, and Phoibe had practically raised him. Some of his best memories were of just the two of them, playing together, laughing, separate and safe from the others. Kicking dust as he made his way toward the cottage, deep in thought, Azriel watched the sun as it dipped below the horizon, sending tendrils of light like flame across the sky. The screams broke him from his reverie, spurring him into a run. His legs ached, muscles screaming as he pushed them once again after breaking himself in training from sunup to sundown. Cresting the hill’s horizon, Azriel took in the cottage, the tendrils of flames licking the room, caressing the sun's dying rays.

Keep reading here on AO3!

Special thanks to @alexandia03 for helping me correlate all of the characters, piece together the myths/legends, and for beta reading this fic.

And thank you also to @the-darkestminds and @pippsmcgee for beta reading!

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @pippsmcgee, @born-to-riot, @chunkypossum, @bubybubsters, @queercontrarian, @yanny-77, @fieldofdaisiies, @iftheshoef1tz, @secret-third-thing, @jules-writes-stories, @the-darkestminds, @climbthemountain2020, @molcat07

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

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Every Time You Lie - Ch 7 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house.

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

In that moment of revelation, you found yourself frozen, your hands instinctively reaching for Ransom's face as if the touch could erase the weight of his words.

Once filled with a mischievous spark, his eyes now held a haunted depth that mirrored your heart's turmoil.

"Tell me what happened," you pleaded, the words escaping your lips almost in a whisper, a fragile plea for the truth you feared.

The weight of Ransom's words hung in the air, sinking into your consciousness like a heavy anchor. "Because of drugs," he confessed, and the reality of the situation crashed over you like a tidal wave.

In the recesses of your memories, you recalled when Ransom's choice of friends had raised concerns. You, along with Linda and Harlan, had implored him to distance himself from the dangerous circle, a plea that fell on deaf ears. Ransom had always reassured everyone that he wasn't addicted, that he could handle it.

But the past had a way of resurfacing, revealing the cracks in the carefully crafted facade.

Ransom continued, his gaze fixed on a distant point, "One day, after our argument, the police stopped my car. They found drugs in it."

His voice quivered, a mixture of regret and bitterness coloring the words. "I hired a lawyer, fought the charges, but I still lost. And I knew it was because of your husband."

The revelation struck you like a lightning bolt. The intricate web of events, woven by choices and consequences, tightened its grip around you.

The realization that Lloyd may have played a role in Ransom's downfall stunned you, a mosaic of emotions playing across your features.

Ransom's eyes bore into yours, “Do you remember?”

"I don't. What happened after that?" you questioned, your voice edging with curiosity and apprehension.

"To be free from jail, my lawyer suggested I go into rehabilitation," Ransom admitted, the bitterness of the past still lingering in his words. "And then my old man, infuriated by the scandal plastered all over the media, decided to ship me off to Europe."

He recounted the harsh reality of his journey—an odyssey of rehabilitation that felt no different from a prison sentence. The inability to return for a year compounded his sense of confinement.

Yet, amidst the struggles, he found a silver lining—a connection that proved to be surprisingly valuable.

You listened to his story; for you, the time passed quickly, but for him, it had been years. The fear of losing a memory loomed, casting a shadow over the revelation.

Seizing the moment, you asked Ransom, "Do you know the truth about my dad, his company, and my siblings?”

Ransom's nod carried a sense of solemnity, "But, it's for me to tell you."

He turned around, and you instinctively followed his lead. As you both faced the room, a palpable tension hung in the air.

Your breath caught when a surprise guest entered—the last person you expected. It was your brother, Theo.

******

At Crystal Pharmaceutical L.A Branch

Lloyd sat restlessly in the dimly lit boardroom, surrounded by his legal team. Tension hung thick in the air as they delved into the intricate details of the pharmacy company's myriad issues.

Lloyd's face contorted with a mix of frustration and disbelief. He clenched his jaw as the weight of the accusations sank in. "Opium and human experiments?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the tense meeting room.

The lawyers exchanged nervous glances, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Sir, the media is running wild with these claims. We need a strategic approach to address these allegations and mitigate the damage to the company's reputation," one of them stammered.

Lloyd leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant hum of city traffic. "Find out who's behind this.

I want names, connections, and every detail about that so-called whistleblower," he commanded, his eyes piercing through the legal team.

As the meeting continued, Lloyd's mind raced, contemplating the potential fallout from these damning revelations.

He knew that salvaging the company's image would require more than just legal maneuvering; it would demand a meticulous investigation to unveil the truth and clear the company's tarnished name.

The stakes were high, and Lloyd couldn't afford to let the allegations spiral out of control. The challenge ahead seemed daunting, and the fate of the company hung in the balance.

Lloyd leaned forward, his eyes locking onto the intensity in the room. "If one of you works well, I will reward that person with $2 million," he declared, the gravity of his words punctuating the already charged atmosphere.

A collective gasp filled the room as the legal team absorbed the staggering number.

"Now do your work, before I change my mind," Lloyd asserted with a firm resolve, his voice cutting through the stillness.

The weight of his announcement settled over the team, prompting a flurry of activity as they refocused on their tasks, driven by the prospect of both professional success and a substantial financial reward. All of them ran to leave the meeting room.

Alone in the now-empty meeting room, Lloyd's expression hardened. He swiftly reached for his phone and dialed a number, his voice low and decisive. "Burn everything," he commanded.

Author Note :

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

Join the taglist:

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Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi 🥹💓

#lloyd hansen x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you

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butcherlarry · 13 days

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Superbat Week 2024 Fic Recs

Day 6: It's An AU Kind Of Day 18th century | Firefighter Clark & Doctor Bruce | Universe Swap

I didn't have any 18th century fics to rec, it's not a trope/prompt I search for when reading fics. Hopefully, I can fix that problem with some of the fics that get posted today! Until then, enjoy these fic recs!

Seasons of Love by littlechinesedoll @brucietales - Complete. Doctor Bruce, Universe Swap/AU. Probably one of the first video games that I really got into was Stardew Valley, so this fic where Bruce is the doctor and Clark is the farmer in that universe really hit a lot of buttons for me :D

Is The Doctor In? by LilianRoses - Complete. Doctor Bruce. Instead of becoming Batman, Bruce becomes a doctor instead, and eventually becomes the Justice League's doctor. Shenanigans ensue.

Seeing Bruce Wayne by Evilpixie @evilpixiea - Complete. Doctor Bruce and Midwife Clark. Grumpy pediatric doctor Bruce Wayne gets together with midwife Clark Kent? It's more likely than you think!

I Beg Forgiveness for Failure (I Give Praise for Perseverance) by BatsAreFluffy @silivren-vera - Complete. Universe Swap. Omegaverse. Batman gets kidnapped by an evil Superman. He is eventually rescued by his Justice League, but all is not entirely well. Angst and Feels ensue, mind the tags.

Too Many Supermen by bubbletea_kai - Complete. Universe Swap. The Watchtower is overrun by many Supermen from different universes. Shenanigans ensue.

incendiary by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Complete. An AU Kind of Day. Genderbent Bruce my b e l o v e d.

The Odyssey of Bryce Wayne series by Tatsumaki_sama - Complete. An Au Kind of Day. More genderbent Bruce because I am weak.

His Budding Blossom by tekowrites - Complete. An AU Kind of Day. Flower shop owner Clark hires grumpy accountant Bruce to help out with his business. Shenanigans ensue.

Happy reading!

#daily fic rec list #superbatweek2024 #superbat #batman #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #fic rec #fic recs #fanfic recs #fanfiction recommendations #fanfic rec list

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epicthemusicalstuff · 8 months

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Circe Saga Countdown: 6 days!

Fun Fact time! In the odyssey, one of Odysseus’ men gets drunk and dies by falling off of Circe’s roof

#epic the musical #epic the circe saga #epic the Circe saga countdown

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theodysseyofhomer · 1 year

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Emily Wilson is a professor of classical studies at the University of Pennsylvania. Her translation of the “Odyssey” was published in 2017, and her translation of the “Iliad” will be published in September.

June 28, 2023

In one of the most moving and memorable scenes from the “Iliad,” the great Trojan warrior Hector says farewell to his wife, Andromache, who has urged him not to risk his life by fighting on the plain. He gives their baby back to her, tells her to go home, and reiterates his decision to advance on the enemy.

Around 100 complete English translations of the “Iliad” have been published over the past 400 years. Their variety shows no clear trajectory of cultural change: Some of the more recent Homers are more archaic and less idiomatic than many earlier ones, but some are not. A wide variety of forms are used to “translate” the dactylic hexameter of the original, including prose and free verse as well as several poetic meters.

The translations reflect a wide range of possible interpretations of this short passage. Is Hector harshly scolding Andromache for offering advice about the war, despite her gender? Or is he treating her with gentle pity? Is she worried only about her husband’s death, or is she also concerned about her own imminent enslavement and their baby’s slaughter? Are her concerns valid? Does the warrior risk his life despite his love for his family, or because of it? Why must men fight? Why must women weave? How strange, or how familiar, is the society of the poem?

Each of these translations — along with dozens more — suggests a different understanding of the central themes of courage, marriage, fate and death.

The Original ‘Iliad’ 6. 482-497

The original poem is composed in beautifully musical, metrically regular dactylic hexameter, and designed to be performed out loud: It is poetry for the mouth and ear, not the page.

The scene evokes the complex emotions of three separate characters — the frightened baby, the woman, the man — and it also includes a silent fourth, the enslaved nurse.

The text provides a vivid account not only of Hector’s words, but also of his actions. At the end of the passage, he picks up again the shining helmet that he took off because its plume frightened his little son, and in so doing, he becomes again “bright-helmed Hector,” as the traditional formula of heroic poetry describes him: He again assumes his role and costume as a man who lives and will die by war.

Before this passage, Andromache has pleaded with Hector to adopt a safer strategy, rather than go to almost certain death by meeting the enemy on the open plain. As she reminds him, Hector is risking much more than his own life. His death will entail his wife’s rape and enslavement, their baby’s violent death and the sack of their city.

Hector’s response suggests a fascinatingly contradictory attitude toward his own actions. His firm tone could suggest brash confidence and/or a man steeling himself for a heartbreaking choice to prioritize his own honor over the lives and freedom of everyone he loves — a choice that becomes possible only when presented as no choice at all.

George Chapman (1611)

The first complete translation into English, by the playwright and erstwhile soldier Chapman, creates a staunch, fatalistic version of Hector, reflecting the poet’s interest in Stoicism. Chapman uses a metrical form that was already old-fashioned in his day, “fourteeners,” or rhyming heptameters; the original does not rhyme.

The translation expands on the original in ways that may be startling by modern norms — for instance, by rendering the single word for “tearfully,” dakruon, as “fresh streams of love’s salt fire.”

…This said, th’ heroic sire Gave him his mother; whose fair eyes fresh streams of love’s salt fire Billow’d on her soft cheeks, to hear the last of Hector’s speech ,In which his vows compris’d the sum of all he did beseech In her wish’d comfort. So she took into her od’rous breast Her husband’s gift; who, mov’d to see her heart so much oppress’d, He dried her tears, and thus desir’d: “Afflict me not, dear wife, With these vain griefs. He doth not live, that can disjoin my life And this firm bosom, but my fate; and fate, whose wings can fly? Noble, ignoble, fate controls. Once born, the best must die, Go home, and set thy housewif’ry on these extremes of thought; And drive war from them with thy maids; keep them from doing nought. These will be nothing; leave the cares of war to men, and me In whom, of all the Ilion race, they take their high’st degree.” On went his helm; his princess home, half cold with kindly fears; When ev’ry fear turn’d back her looks, and ev’ry look shed tears.

Alexander Pope (1715)

Pope’s translation, into elegant rhyming pentameter couplets, was a best seller in the 18th century and remains a classic. Pope adds a great many details entirely of his own invention, inserting anachronistic notions of marriage (“my soul’s far better part”), and explaining emotional responses that are unstated or ambiguous in the original: For example, Homer does not explain why Andromache is crying, but Pope clarifies that it is from “fear.” Pope invents some wonderful aphorisms that have no basis in the original but add zing to the couplet, such as “the first in danger as the first in fame.”

He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms, Restored the pleasing burden to her arms; Soft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid, Hush’d to repose, and with a smile survey’d. The troubled pleasure soon chastised by fear, She mingled with a smile a tender tear. The soften’d chief with kind compassion view’d, And dried the falling drops, and thus pursued: ”Andromache! my soul’s far better part, Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart? No hostile hand can antedate my doom, Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb. Fix’d is the term to all the race of earth; And such the hard condition of our birth: No force can then resist, no flight can save, All sink alike, the fearful and the brave. No more — but hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle, and direct the loom: Me glory summons to the martial scene, The field of combat is the sphere for men. Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger as the first in fame.” Thus having said, the glorious chief resumes His towery helmet, black with shading plumes. His princess parts with a prophetic sigh, Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye That stream’d at every look; then, moving slow, Sought her own palace, and indulged her woe.

Samuel Butler (1898)

The prose version by the 19th-century novelist and satirist Butler — a lifelong bachelor — suggests a very different set of assumptions about women, metaphysics, emotions (“his heart yearned towards her” for eleēse, “pitied”) and even time management (“daily duties” for erga, “tasks”). Butler treats Homer’s repeated epithets as skippable, so that phaidimos Hector (“glorious Hector”) becomes simply “he.”

With this he laid the child again in the arms of his wife, who took him to her own soft bosom, smiling through her tears. As her husband watched her his heart yearned towards her and he caressed her fondly, saying, “My own wife, do not take these things too bitterly to heart. No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man’s hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born. Go, then, within the house, and busy yourself with your daily duties, your loom, your distaff, and the ordering of your servants; for war is man’s matter, and mine above all others of them that have been born in Ilion.” He took his plumed helmet from the ground, and his wife went back again to her house, weeping bitterly and often looking back towards him.

Robert Fagles (1990)

Fagles’s best-selling translation, in unmetrical free verse, uses many familiar American idioms and clichés (such as “smiling through her tears,” or “filled with pity,” a metaphor absent from the original). He softens the brusqueness of Hector’s final speech to his wife by rendering daimonie as the gentle “dear one,” and adding “trying to reassure her” and “please,” neither of which appears in the Greek.

Fagles makes Hector’s most iconic phrase, that men must be warriors, sound much chattier and wordier than the original, spreading it over two lines: “as for the fighting / men…”

… So Hector prayed and placed his son in the arms of his loving wife. Andromache pressed the child to her scented breast, smiling through her tears. Her husband noticed, and filled with pity now, Hector stroked her gently, trying to reassure her, repeating her name: “Andromache, dear one, why so desperate? Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No man alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you — it’s born with us the day that we are born. So please go home and tend to your own tasks, the distaff and the loom, and keep the women working hard as well. As for the fighting, men will see to that, all who were born in Troy but I most of all.” Hector aflash in arms took up his horsehair-crested helmet once again. And his loving wife went home, turning, glancing back again and again and weeping live warm tears.

Emily Wilson (2023)

In my own translation of the “Iliad,” I echo the metrical regularity of the original by using unrhyming iambic pentameter. I thought long and hard about the multiple narrative perspectives suggested by the original poem, and its resonant ambiguities; in this passage, for example, I use both “beloved” and “loving” for phile — a word that could suggest either, or both — because the feelings of both the wife and the husband are at stake.

The rhetorically punchy qualities of Hector’s speech seemed essential, as well as Hector’s insistent focus on his own defining identity as a warrior. Hector is a deeply loving father and husband who makes the choice to leave his family to almost-certain enslavement and death.

As I read the Greek, we feel heartbroken for all three members of the family (or for all four, counting the silent nurse) — and all the more so because there is no hint of sentimentality in the language, no softness in Hector’s final words. The emotions are sketched with extraordinary concision: The only explicit feeling is Hector’s pity for Andromache’s tears (eleēse), but a world of other emotions is evoked through gesture.

…With these words, he gave his son to his beloved wife. She let him snuggle in her perfumed dress, and tearfully she smiled. Her husband noticed and pitied her. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Strange woman! Come on now, you must not be too sad on my account. No man can send me to the house of Hades before my time. No man can get away from destiny, first set for us at birth, however cowardly or brave he is. Go home and do the things you have to do. Work on your loom and spindle and instruct the slaves to do their household work as well. War is a task for men — for every man born here in Troy, but most especially, me.” When he had finished speaking, glorious Hector picked up his helmet with its horsehair plume. His loving wife set off for home, but kept twisting and turning back to look at him. More and more tears kept flooding down her face.

#emily wilson #quotes #the iliad #hektor #andromakhe #hektor x andromakhe #i know not everyone has nyt subscription but this is fascinating re:translation so i have provided the whole text under the read more :)

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persevereforahappyending · 7 months

Text

Luck Runs Out |Part 6|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.3k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mabel jumped in her car, speeding away before Charlie even had the chance to close his door. “Geez,” he said, as he fumbled with the seat belt. “I’m pretty sure getting a speeding ticket isn’t apart of acting normal.

Mabel slowed her speed to just above the speed limit. She had a habit of driving fast, but Charlie was right, her driving around crazy was going to draw attention. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She just needed to get to the dock, get on the Finestkind, find the drugs, get rid of the drugs, then all she had to worry about was you.

Getting rid of drugs, a gang was looking for was actually going to be the easiest part of her day. Even if they got rid of the drugs, she still had to worry about you. You were healing up nicely and you’d probably be able to take care of yourself, but you didn’t have anywhere to go. Even if the dealers thought you were dead, they still would most likely catch you trying to go back to your apartment. It wasn’t like you could sneak off to the police, you’d get yourself arrested trying to take the others down and it would leave you in even more danger.

The only solution was to sneak you out of town. Which was relatively easy, she could sneak you out to her car at night, hide you in the backseat and then just drive the next state or two over. Once you were out of town you could hop on a bus or train and be gone. She hadn’t talked to you about that, you might have dreamed about traveling the world on a boat but that didn’t mean you wanted to leave everything you knew behind. There was also the small fact that everyone thought you were dead, if you got fingerprinted or anything like that you’d pop up as deceased. So, you either needed to live off the grid, get a new identity, or they had to find a way to believably resurrect you, and deal with the drug dealers so you didn’t actually end up dead.

Mabel enjoyed talking to you, she enjoyed reading The Odyssey, something she had never considered actually reading. But when she had to talk to the doctor, a man she hated, and had to go risk her life to destroy some drugs, she was reminded what a pain in the ass you were. You were nice but your mere presence seemed to start shit, you were a troublemaker, and you knew it. She was sure that if you weren’t the instigator in all your disagreements with the Finestkind crew then you definitely fed into everyone else, twisting the knife just a bit more to really piss them off.

Her foot pressed down on the gas pedal just a bit harder as she was reminded about the doctor. He texted her with his fee, which she promptly ignored. She knew she would have to pay it, she just needed to figure out how to come up with the money. He was charging her an outrageous amount, over fifty grand. Before they had even got out of her apartment complex, he had sent her the amount added from the refill on the pain meds, which was another ten thousand. He didn’t need the money, she knew he charged to keep quiet more than anything, but she was pretty sure none of his other clients were paying that much. He was only getting away with charging her that much because he knew he could, he knew Mabel couldn’t argue with him. The situation was too risky, if she tried to argue he could start fishing around and learn about you and what happened.

She hadn’t told you about any of that yet. She wasn’t sure she was going to. Once they figured out how to get you out of this situation alive, you’d be gone, and she’d probably never see you again. She could have told you about owing the doctor, you were nice enough, you’d probably help her pay it off or insist on doing it yourself. You were the reason she had to even contact the guy in the first place, but she was the reason he was called, she made that decision not you. She couldn’t guilt you into paying him when she was the one that brought him into the fold.

She also couldn’t imagine putting you in his debt. You might have been a drug smuggler, but you clearly didn’t like it. The way you spoke made it sound like you got stuck in that life, before she got out, she was stuck there because of her mother, though you hadn’t mentioned any family yet. She wasn’t sure why she expected you to mention your family, you didn’t know each other, you were strangers. Talking about Greek mythology and helping her with homework didn’t suddenly make you best friends, she had barely known you a week.

“Mabel!” Charlie shouted, breaking her out of her spiraling thoughts. She looked at him to see him pressing himself back into the seat as far as he could, his hand extended as he braced himself with the door handle.

Mabel looked ahead, slamming on her breaks as she approached a red light. “Sorry,” she mumbled again.

Charlie looked at her with wide eyes, slowly taking his hand away from the door. He let out a shaky breath as he slowly relaxed into his seat again. She rolled her eyes, though if he hadn’t of broken her out of her thoughts, she definitely would have run the red light. Charlie’s been in the car with her before, he should be very familiar with her driving, and he was the reason for half of her crazy driving. The first time they hooked up he had her racing to the ocean so he could jump onto the boat that had already left, he had no right to judge her driving now.

“So…” he whistled. Mabel glanced at him, raising a brow as she watched him refuse to look in her direction. “You and Y/N seem to be getting pretty close…” he quickly glanced at her before looking ahead again.

Mabel slowly released a breath, preventing herself from snapping at him. When the light turned green, she began to go a more reasonable speed this time. “Yeah, and?” She asked, turning down the street she needed to.

Mabel was reminded of your kiss, well her almost kiss with you. She told herself she wasn’t going to do anything with you, that it didn’t matter if you were cute, or nice, or fun to talk to, you were trouble, and she didn’t want trouble. Even though you didn’t seem to want trouble either, maybe if given the option you’d actually leave the life you led. People talked about wanting out but actually doing it was key. Mabel wasn’t sure how many times her mom promised to get clean or to stop dealing when she was growing up, Mabel believed her the first few times, but her mother never even attempted to do as she promised. At the end of the day words meant nothing, not when the person could just ignore them, actions truly spoke louder in her opinion. Mabel wanted to believe you though, that you wanted a better life, a life that didn’t involve breaking the law.

“Nothing!” Charlie’s voice went higher. Mabel flicked a side glance at him, seeing him nervously tap his fingers on the side of the door. “Just… be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mabel snapped. She knew Charlie was just trying to be protective, but he didn’t have a right to say who she could and couldn’t hang out with, they weren’t even together anymore.

“We found them floating in the ocean,” Charlie looked at her as if that said everything. “With a gunshot wound and floating on packs of drugs.” Mabel turned her head to glare at him before having to look back at the road. “They’re bad news Mabel.”

“I’m pretty sure your brother once told you the same thing about me.”

“That’s different,” Charlie said, his voice still soft. It was clear he didn’t want this to become an argument. “They’re a drug smuggler.”

“Yeah, well my mom’s a dealer, I used to do runs,” Mabel started going off. “Last year you guys needed money and had no issue smuggling drugs to get it.”

“That was only one time!”

Mabel clenched her jaw as she narrowed her eyes at the road before them, they couldn’t arrive at the docks quick enough. “We broke up.” Mabel quickly glanced at Charlie, catching his face fall before he quickly recovered as if everything was fine. “You don’t really have a say in who I associate with. Especially when you brought said person to my door.” She flicked a glare at him.

“Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I don’t still…” Charlie shouted but it quickly died before whatever he was about to say. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.” Mabel looked at him again to see him staring right back at her with all the sincerity in those puppy dog eyes of his. “You worked hard to get out of that life. I know I’m the reason you’re in this mess now, which I’m sorry for.” He looked down, the guilt truly eating away at him. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Mabel tore her eyes away from Charlie, she needed to focus on the road. “I know,” she whispered. “I know. But I can take care of myself, and I can make my own decisions.”

She quickly glanced at Charlie one last time seeing him nod. “I know. I’m well aware how capable you are,” he smiled to himself.

Mabel didn’t want to admit it, but Charlie was right, not that she’d ever tell him that. He was saying everything she was already thinking. There was no reason for her to get close to you and put herself in that position again. She enjoyed talking to you and she knew you were a good person but even if she wasn’t involved with any of that stuff anymore, if she was with you, she’d still be connected to it. As cute as you were, she couldn’t bring herself to start something, she couldn’t be with someone when every day she’d worry they were going to get arrested or something worse. Not matter how much fun she was having with you she couldn’t involve herself in that life anymore, she got out and she was going to stay out.

They finally arrived at the dock, making their way down to where the boats were anchored. Mabel followed Charlie as he speed walked to the boat, in a rush but not enough that it was drawing attention. She looked around, looking for any people that stuck out, anyone who didn’t scream fisherman. Mabel caught sight of a man walking around, he was in casual clothes, but he certainly wasn’t a fisherman, he was walking back and forth as he eyed the boats and the people coming on and off them. As soon as his head started to turn in their direction Mabel looked forward, they didn’t know her, as long as she wasn’t caught staring, she’d be fine.

They finally got to the boat; Mabel scrunched her eyebrows as she looked around not seeing any of the crew. “Tommy!” Charlie shouted, making his way inside the boat. Mabel followed behind, giving another quick look at the man she saw on the docks before, he wasn’t looking anywhere near her, still watching the other boats. “Tommy!”

“Where are they?” Mabel asked.

“I don’t know,” Charlie pushed past her as he made his way through the boat. “Tommy! Costa! Nunes!” Charlie looked in every corner of the boat, not finding his brother or the others.

“Maybe they assumed you wouldn’t be back and left?” Mabel knew it was a long shot and she didn’t believe it as she asked it.

“Maybe,” Charlie mumbled but clearly not believing it either. “Let’s just get the drugs. I’ll find Tommy after.”

Mabel nodded. “Where are they?”

“Hidden amongst the bunks. I think that’s where Tommy hid them,” he pointed to the small set of bunks on one of the walls.

Mabel made her way to one set of bunks while Charlie went to the other. They both dug through the bunks, ripping the sheets and pillowcases off, even flipping the mattresses. When they found nothing, they moved to check every other inch of the room, flinging open cabinets, boxes, bags, anything that looked like it could hold something, they searched.

“They’re not here!” Mabel shouted frustrated.

“They have to be!” Charlie snapped, pushing past her as he made his way to another area of the boat.

Mabel rolled her eyes and followed him. She stood in the doorway as she watched Charlie begin to tear the boat apart looking for any place the drugs might be. Within minutes Charlie had turned the entire ship upside down, boxes flung all across the room, papers scattered about, but still no drugs.

“Maybe they moved them?” he said, looking at Mabel as if he were hoping she’d agree with him. “Tommy’s not here, so maybe,” he looked around as if he were trying to find the answer in their surroundings. “Maybe he took them? Maybe he moved them from the ship because he knew it was dangerous? Maybe-”

He was cut off by a phone ringing. Mabel held her breath as she watched Charlie fish out his phone. He looked at the screen before quickly swiping and bringing it to his ear. “Tommy!” Mabel released her breath when she heard Charlie say his brother’s name. “Thank god! I was worried, where-”

Mabel furrowed her brow, tilting her head as she watched Charlie abruptly stop talking. His face went pale, and he gripped the phone just a bit tighter. He looked at Mabel and despite not being able to hear the other side of the conversation Mabel knew it wasn’t Tommy on the other end.

“Who is this?” Charlie asked, any kindness in his voice from before was gone.

Charlie stepped around Mabel, making his way back to the front of the boat. Mabel followed, nearly bumping into him when she found him standing on the deck. She followed his gaze; he was staring right at the man she had seen before. The man was also on the phone and was staring right at them. It seemed Mabel had gotten it wrong; the guy did notice them getting on the boat.

“She has nothing to do with this,” Charlie said, making Mabel snap her eyes to him. “No.” Mabel knew they were talking about her, but she couldn’t figure out about what exactly. “I’ll come but she gets to leave. She isn’t involved in this.”

Mabel was about to protest; she didn’t know what she was about to protest but she knew she wanted to protest it. Before she could say a word Charlie hung up, gently gripped Mabel by the arm and began to drag her off the boat. Mabel pulled with all her strength, but Charlie was determined to keep ahold of her.

“Go home,” he ordered once they got back to her car. “Don’t come back here, don’t call me, don’t ask questions. Just go home and stay there.”

“No,” Mabel said, finally ripping her arm out of his grip. “Who the hell was that?”

“Whose ever drugs those were,” he pointed back to the boat. “They got Tommy, the others, and the drugs. They demanded I come too.”

“No! Hell no. It’s a trap.”

Charlie groaned, clearly not wanting to have this argument. “They want to know about the drugs. If I don’t go, they’ll kill Tommy.”

“Then I’m coming too.” Mabel started to walk back down to the dock, but Charlie held up his hands keeping her in place.

“No. It’s to dangerous. Go home and I’ll come over when I’m done.”

“Charlie-”

“Just go!” Charlie’s voice rose. “Please,” he begged. “Please, you can’t be involved in this. You know you can’t.”

Mabel sighed, shaking her head, it was a mistake coming to the dock, she should have listened to you. She ran a hand through her hair, Charlie was right, if she went it would only put her and them in more danger. The problem was that Charlie didn’t know anything about the drugs, unless he decided to sell you out, which he wouldn’t do. Meaning he needed to choose his words carefully otherwise these guys wouldn’t hesitate to kill him and the others.

“Be careful,” she finally whispered, knowing there was no winning this argument. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I promise,” Charlie whispered then gave her that stupid grin he always gave before doing something stupid.

He waited until Mabel got in her car before walking back down to the dock. Mabel started her car but sat and watched as he approached the man. A black car quickly pulled up and the man grabbed Charlie by the arm and began aggressively forcing him into the car. Every part of Mabel wanted to go after them, she knew there was nothing she could do though. So, she put her car in drive and drove away.

Mabel was back at her place before she even knew it. She wasn’t even sure if she sped the whole way home or not. Charlie being forced into the car, played over and over again in her mind. She mindlessly opened the door to her apartment, dropping the keys on the counter as she stood in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” you asked. Mabel looked up, seeing you standing in front of her. She looked around, realizing she hadn’t moved from the doorway. “What happened?” you looked behind her. “Where’s Charlie?” your eyes darted all around her face, but Mabel couldn’t focus on anything.

“They took him,” she breathed out. She didn’t need to elaborate based on the way your face fell and became full of concern. “They have all of them and the drugs. They have everything,” Mabel gripped her hair. “Wha-what are we going to do? They have them. They have them.” Her breathing was starting to get heavy; it was like she couldn’t catch her breath. “What are we going to do? What are we-”

The words died in her mouth when she was quickly engulfed in a hug by you. This was her first time touching you, she had cleaned your wound, sure, and had helped you move around but that didn’t count, this was her first time truly touching you. Mabel wasn’t big on touch; she was never one to hold hands and only hugged people she was close with on rare occasions. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around you though, burying her face in your hoodie, her hoodie. She had barely known you, hadn’t even known you a month but your hug already brought her a comfort that no one else had.

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “We’ll get them back. I promise.”

Mabel knew you couldn’t promise that. In general, no one could promise that but with what they were dealing with, a good outcome was even less likely. The odds of never hearing from any of them again and them ending up as missing persons on the news in a few days was a lot more likely than Charlie arriving, completely unharmed, knocking on her door in a few hours. However, when you said those words, Mabel believed you. So, she pulled you even tighter against herself and let your warmth comfort her and she silently hoped that you would be right.

#mabel finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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