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another-lost-mc · 1 year ago

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thoughts on obey me as an actual game? anything u wan a change if given the chance?

it honestly makes me mad everytime i think about the obvious lack of effort for world building but specifically for the nobility plotline... sooooo underutilized it's upsetting. like i've read isekai manhwas with better use/grasp of the nobility and political climate... also (can't remember if it's from swd or nb) the fact that lucifer and the brothers' are basically living off an allowance/salary set for them by diavolo is just... ugh. they couldn't have given them actual positions with titles ??? they couldn't have brought their title as princes/lords of the underworld into play ??? like i get they did it for the game, for shits and giggles and idk maybe it's just me lawl

sorry for ranting lmao i've sent asks a couple times and i quite like your insights and takes on things. was wondering if you'd have anything to say 🫡

I love talking about this stuff! I know it's a dating game and the lore/world building is basically an afterthought because the game's focus is on MC's relationships with the characters now, and not necessarily on the world/characters before MC existed or became involved.

I've mentioned before that the world feels really empty to me at times because they don't really talk about characters that exist (in a meaningful way) unless they're the established dateables (or soon-to-be dateables) for MC. Many of them are nameless demons/angels (the demon lords, the owner of The Fall that's been mentioned more than once by his title but not name), generic sorcerers and angels we know exist in the other realms. (For some reason, Uriel has been name-dropped twice with very little info besides that.)

Part of my motivation for developing the angel/demon OCs is to give more context and depth to the world that MC interacts with, even if they don't necessarily interact with MC in their own day to day lives. There are countless Devildom businesses that keep the realm running – who owns them? Who are the demons that develop their technology and vehicles? Who are the demons that acquire the raw materials used to build these items, or design/build the Devildom's architecture and homes? Who are the professsors at RAD and the other students? They're probably not all demons born from nobility, so where did they come from? What do the parts of hell outside the Devildom metropolis look like? Do they live on other levels? Rings? How easy can you travel between them, or why would you want to (or not want to)? Who are the demons that make up the demon armies and where do they live? Also, how in the world did Solomon end up in pacts with so many powerful demon lords, and now that he's not a power-hungry king, how do those pacts serve him (and the demons he's bound to)?

So yeah, maybe I think about the game world a lot because there's so much potential that goes ignored. I understand that the game isn't meant to be an in-depth look at the Devildom or Celestial Realm outside of what's relevant for character development or plot purposes, but it would be nice to have answers for some of the obvious questions that come up over time. Some of the information we're given in Nightbringer feels incomplete or doesn't match the tone/characterization we were presented with in the OG game either which makes me worry about continuity issues and retconning going forward.

(This got long so the rest is going behind a read-more link. lol)

When I started developing/outlining The Fall, it was meant to be a personal interpretation of the game's lore and my own creative spin on filling in all the gaps. At the heart of it, it's a love story between two angels-turned-demons. But the worlds they live in change over time, and there's a lot of nuance and deeper insights to explain how and why those things happen.

Some of the topics I wanted to explore in this project include:

Rank/power structures in the Celestial Realm. Basically, how do the various ranks of angels interact with each other, and how do they view angels with ranks higher or lower than their own?

Xenophobia. How angels and demons interact and perceive the other races/species. Metatron is an angel that was originally born as a human and ascended to the Celestial Realm after being chosen by Father to do so. Knowing that, how does his former human life impact what other angels think of him, if it does at all? (Spoiler: It does.) There's also significant issues that come up with the arrival of fallen angels, although Meta and Azra falling has very different reactions compared to Lucifer and the others later.

The role of the Seraphim. This story begins before the Celestial War with Lucifer, so he and Michael are still the two primary beacons of power in the Celestial Realm. How often do they agree or disagree on handling disputes, and how do they resolve their differences of opinion? I also wanted to explain the role of other Seraphim – basically, it's not just Michael or Lucifer calling the shots, and the other Seraphim are expected to lend their voices to discussions/debates about serious matters and it's treated almost like a council where majority vote wins if they can't all agree on something.

Side note: I really don't like the idea that Michael (or any of the other Seraphs) are free to do whatever they want without any sort of accountability or repercussions. I think the things Michael might want to do (ex. sneaking into the Devildom in disguise) and what he should do (literally anything but that) are two completely different things, and being emotional/grief-stricken isn't a good excuse for a leader that wants to YOLO his way through his problems when he has an entire realm of citizens he is responsible for. Gabriel is my solution to some of Michael's emotional impulses and rash decision making. He's the angel OC that acts as Michael's voice of reason when he struggles to separate logic and reason from emotions. He keeps Michael in-check when he wants to do things that are too erratic or personal, but he whole-heartedly supports Michael's plans or ideas that benefit the Celestial Realm. I like to imagine Gabriel and Barbatos are similar in that way and have the potential to be good friends as they bond and commiserate over their loyalties to leaders that sometimes act like spoiled children.

Fallen angels in general. There are a lot of fallen angels besides Lucifer and his brothers. Meta and Azra are two angels that go through the process of falling together and I had a lot of ideas about how I think that looks on a physical and spiritual level. There are differences for angels that are cast out by the Seraphim for breaking the rules/putting the Celestial Realm at risk vs. angels that choose to fall vs. angels that are punished by Father for defying him regardless of what the Seraphim choose. Azra and Meta's motivations and reasons for how/why they fall are slightly different, and how that plays out (and the impact on the angels left behind) are different too. They don't have a pre-existing relationship with Diavolo to pave the way for their new lives in the Devildom either, so how do they cope? Who helps them start their new lives, and how do they navigate being strangers in a foreign land while undergoing the physical and emotional changes of becoming demons? Diavolo's father is still the Demon King when they fall and it's only Belial's involvement that keeps things from completely going off the rails after their arrival. The fact that Belial himself is a former angel has its own significance. There isn't a manual or one-size-fits-all approach to this either, and Azra and Meta demonstrate how the Devildom's negligence of their newest citizens can lead to disastrous results sooner or later.

Navigating tension and conflict between the Celestial Realm and Devildom. There is violence that breaks out between the two realms, so how does the Celestial Realm respond to that sort of crisis? Once in the Devildom, there's a glimpse of how the Demon King (Diavolo's father) handles these developments and why the conflict happened at all. (Spoiler alert: Belial is an antagonist in this part of the story for a reason.)

What is Solomon up to? He has all these pacts with powerful demons and he's no stranger to the Devildom, so of course he's going to be interested to meet some new fallen angels – especially one with as much power and common interests as Metatron. Solomon is very human in this story too. He has his own selfish motivations for getting involved, but he also shows genuine care and concern for those he considers friends. He gets involved maybe more than he should, but for good reasons. He's a useful bridge to help the demons understand some of the obvious implications of having ex-angels living in their world. He also manipulates things a bit behind the scenes because of his connection to Barbatos (and therefore Diavolo) but there's no immature feud souring their relationship in this story. (Gonna be honest, I do not think Barbatos's problem with Solomon had anything to do with his place on Solomon's list of demons.)

Lesser demons and the nobility. I wanted to explore the lives of lesser demons versus the lives of noble demons. Where they live, what they do for a living, how they view demons of higher/lower ranks than themselves and other races. Zee's an example of a lesser demon who does whatever he needs to do to earn a living for himself, and Azra doesn't have much clout behind him so they almost meet each other as equals. It's an interesting look at their friendship and the way connections to more powerful demons (like Belial) help them both make better lives for themselves in the central Devildom where they eventually grow their business and social reputations. Meta, despite being a fallen Seraph, has practically no motivation or reputation to speak of and this has its own consequences later. But Zee's not the only lesser demons in this story, and if you thought the nobility in Nightbringer had problems with fallen angels, the lesser demons are far more hostile towards them – they're the ones on the front lines whenever war with the Celestial Realm breaks out, so its understandable they might not be very welcoming. For the demon nobility, the ones that aren't actively criticising fallen angels are mostly indifferent to them, but that's not such a great thing either.

There are other areas I wonder about that I don't explore in The Fall, but I hope to do so for the various OCs and their stories. The Devildom's power hierarchy/use of titles is one of them. The demons of the Ars Goetia all of their own armies at their disposal, and some are dukes while others are kings. That doesn't seem to have any meaning or impact in the game world, but surely there are ways that can affect how the demon nobility interacts with each other? It certainly made a difference to Solomon, I doubt he would've wanted so many pacts if the demons didn't have anything to offer him at the time. The how and why of Solomon's pacts is it's own area of exploration, which I hope to do with Belial and Bathin.

#I have SO MANY THOUGHTS #can you tell that I studied history #I want to know ALL THE THINGS #jes.replies #jes.world building

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terrible-leviathan · 4 years ago

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Hogwarts au where Tommy expects to be in gryffindor (and everyone else expects him to be in gryffindor) but then gets in hufflepuff instead so

After the hat shouts out that he's a hufflepuff, he spent like the first week moping around no matter how much Techno (slytherin) and Wilbur (ravenclaw) annoy him

After that week, he was determined to not let his house weigh him down so he put on his annoying gremlin persona and made it his mission for hufflepuff to be the best house ever

He would always gives out facts (most of the times it's not accurate) about badgers

Tommy: did u know badgers can squirt out poison from their eyes?

Ranboo: I don't-

Tubbo: yeah that sounds right

Tommy always has some sort of yellow and black paint on his face (it was supposed to be war paint but he got lazy and just slapped those two colors on him for house pride)

Met Tubbo, a ravenclaw, who was getting picked on and decided to have fistfight with the bullies. Proceeded to lose but has now acquired a friend who won't stop "clinging" to him

Would be known as the duo who would prank professors and just cause as much chaos as possible

Very aggressive when it comes to quidditch (like mans had a reputation of breaking many bones and unsurprisingly not his bones)

Even when he got "suspended" from quidditch, u bet he's gonna be that one dude in the crowd that's decked out with yellow foam hands, a hat that looks like a badger, and 5 small hufflepuff flags

Tommy never understood why he had to only sit at the hufflepuff's table so he would just sit at the ravenclaw's table with Tubbo and just drag all his friends and siblings with him

Tommy's favorite subject is herbology (tho he will never admit it to anyone)

Wilbur has caught his brother in the greenhouse and proceeded to use it as blackmail just in case

Despite Tommy having the reputation of a gremlin who would watch the world burn, he has relatively high grades

Tommy will defend hufflepuff no matter what

Tommy: y'know hufflepuff is a really amazing house and should be recognized more cuz we're so fucking awesome-

Techno, remembers 10yr old Tommy complaining how much of a loser the hufflepuff house is: sure.

#im proba gonna add more later #but i shall dub thee #agressive hufflepuff tommy au #mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #technoblade

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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

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HIii! I was wondering if you could write something Fred (6th/7th year) x Gryffindor Reader (i know u dont usually write him) maybe something where reader and fred are best friends and shes in love with him but she thinks he dosent like her that way with a fuffy ending? maybe some angst not too much tho thank youuu <3 if you dont want to write fred (😭) you can write it for lupin (6th/7th year)

His Favorite Girl

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor! Reader

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 3,430

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.”

The Gryffindor common room. An ever changing space for all Gryffindor students to unwind, study, or party, depending on the occasion. The common room was always crowded from wall to wall after a Quidditch match, especially when Gryffindor reigned victorious. The players all filed in, bursting with good energy and an itch to celebrate their win. Oliver Wood exploded inside first with an unmistakably beaming smile spreading across his face.

The Gryffindor students who hadn’t been able to make it to watch the match automatically knew that they had won based on Oliver’s visible jubilant mood. You were one of the unfortunate ones that hadn’t been able to make it, but you knew that the team would bring the party to you. The Weasley twins came bopping in next, George carrying a very happy Harry Potter on his shoulders. Harry leapt off of George’s shoulders before the tall twin could knock him into the top of the doorframe.

Your sights automatically set on the other Weasley twin. Fred was beaming with delight at their impressive win. Fred was damn proud to be a Gryffindor, and beating the brakes off of Slytherin was one of his favorite pastimes. He couldn’t be any happier at this moment. It warmed your heart to see him so joyful and full of glee.

You raked over his tall, slender yet muscular frame. His signature red hair was damp with sweat and parts of his face were caked with dirt.

Fred caught your stare, his smile never leaving his face as he gave you a friendly wink. You closed the Potions book in your lap, getting up from the sofa with a silent hope that your thumping heartbeat wasn’t obvious to anyone.

It was a hard thing to do. Keeping your ever growing crush and admiration for Fred Weasley under wraps was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. The seemingly simple solution (as all of your friends had told you) to do would be to “just tell him” how you felt. But it was MUCH easier said than done.

There were so many things that could possibly go wrong if you were to confess your feelings to Fred. You would be running the risk of ruining a beautiful friendship that had done nothing but blossom over the last seven years if he didn’t share that same admiration. You didn’t want to lose your best friend just because your heart felt differently than his.

At the same time, you wanted to tell him every scrap and ounce of how your soul felt lost without him. There had been a few times over the years where you had an opportunity to lay your heart out on the line for him. Each time you had this heavy feeling in your chest letting you know you needed to make a move.

You built up the courage each time, but were interrupted by George or another one of your friends before you could bite the bullet. You knew it wasn’t healthy to keep this holed away in yourself. Your love would only grow more. The more days that passed, the more you began to wonder how different your life would be if you never told him. Not to mention that graduation was only a few months away, and there was always the risk of losing contact with him when you went separate ways.

That is, IF you were to go separate ways.

On the other side of the coin, there was always a chance that Fred possibly did harbor the same admiration for you. That would totally change things in the long run. The idea of starting a romantic relationship, possibly getting married, and having a family was nothing short of perfect.

But you had to get to that point first.

Everyone rallied around Harry, shaking him excitedly and singing their praises to him for his incredible Snitch catch. Suddenly, blaring and thunderous chatter filled the common room as more exhilarated students piled in. Within the hour, a sea of Gryffindors occupied the room, complete with blasting music and an ungodly amount of alcohol.

Oliver had gathered a crowd of first years in one corner of the common room as he retold every solitary second of the match from his point of view, starting from the very beginning. The wide eyed first year wizards and witches were on the edge of their seats as they listened to his story, some of them beginning to wonder if they had what it took to be great Quidditch players.

On the other side of the room, you were settled once again on the sofa with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who were seated in the arm chairs across from you. They were exhausted from playing all day, but that didn’t stop them from engaging in some girl talk.

Alicia and Katie were your dearest friends, and they were the only ones who knew about your crush on Fred. A crush that had quite honestly evolved into something much more. They were always keeping an ear out to see if Fred said anything remotely leading them to believe that he might like you back. As surprising as it was, Fred never really outwardly spoke about his romantic side.

Speaking of, Fred and George were in another corner of the room with Harry and Ron, doing God only knows what. Fred was considerably tipsy, but nothing even close to plastered. You had seen Fred drunk before, and needless to say, it was a hysterical sight.

“So, [Y/N],” Alicia spoke up, her dark skin looking extra glowy from the fire roaring in the fireplace; “Fred was awfully excited to come back to tell you that we won.”

Katie perked up, her head lifting from where it had been leaning on the back of the chair.

“Yeah! The first thing that he told George was that he couldn’t wait to tell you the news. Although, I guess Oliver kind of told everyone before Fred had the chance.”

“Really? He said that?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Alicia nodded vigorously, gripping Katie’s forearm with elation. Alicia and Katie had never tried to set the two of you up, mainly because you had begged them not to. That didn’t stop them from trying to be the ultimate wingwomen. They believed that you and Fred would be a stellar couple. They were convinced you were made for one another.

They both feared that you’d never make an attempt to make it happen.

“He sure did. I heard him myself.” Katie replied.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward closer to you. Her voice was quiet, loud enough so only you and Katie could hear as she spoke.

“Graduation is coming up quickly. You’ve got to tell him.” She advised.

You sighed heavily. If you had a galleon for every time one of them had told you that, you’d be a wealthy woman. They just didn’t seem to get that it just isn’t that easy. You wouldn’t deny that proclaiming your deepest secret to someone didn’t scare you. It was terrifying to offer your heart and soul to someone, even when you knew that they might get broken as a result. You didn’t want to live with a broken heart.

But you didn’t want to live always asking yourself “what if”.

Before you could respond, a figure plopped themself next to you, his familiar scent sending flutters all through you. Fred basically snuggled up next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Despite the fact that you weren’t dating, Fred was comfortable enough with you to get extremely close, which didn’t help your situation at all.

Alicia and Katie held down their snickers and giggles at how you were clearly flustered. You tried not to wriggle too much under Fred’s hold, and draw any attention to yourself. He was your best friend, and you knew how to play it cool when he was around.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Fred slurred loudly over the noise.

You laughed softly at the smell of Firewhiskey that was radiating off of him. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you’d have a drink with Fred from time to time.

“Hey, Fred. Congratulations on the match.” You complimented.

Fred grinned proudly, looking down at your slumped body. His eyes were beginning to glaze over from the alcohol, but he looked as sober as ever. He had a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify.

“Thanks. Those bloody Slytherins got what they deserved.” He stated.

“Oliver seems over the moon with how it went.” You remarked, smiling as you looked behind you to see Oliver now standing on a table as he continued telling his thrilling tale.

When you turned back to Fred, you couldn’t help but notice how Fred hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. The butterflies in your belly were going totally bananas now. His gaze did eventually shift to the Potions book that was placed next to your feet, and he let out a guttural sound. He reached for it, noting that it had obviously been put to good use in the last several hours.

“Have you been studying?” He questioned, holding the book in his hand.

You sheepishly nodded, aimlessly reaching for the textbook. An offended look crossed Fred’s face as he held the book far out of your reach. Damn his long arms.

“I have a test on Monday. Advanced Potions is kicking my ass this year and I’ve just barely been getting by so I have to study extra time.” You expressed, laughing at your fruitless attempt to get the book back.

His sharp jaw fell open a tad and he stretched back even further to ensure you didn’t get the book back for now.

“You’re kidding me. I missed my favorite girl at the match because she was stuck in the common room studying for a TEST?” He acquired, not even aware of the weight behind his choice of words.

You felt your smile fade into more of a bashful expression. Your body slinked back into the cushions, forgetting all about the book. His words rang in your word.

Favorite girl.

Fred Weasley’s favorite girl.

Alicia and Katie were both wide eyed and jaw dropped at what he had just said. They were looking back and forth between the two of you like they were at an intense tennis match.

Fred was so aloof and oblivious to the fact that he had literally just melted your heart with a single sentence. You spent so much time with Fred that you just didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

Fred knew you backwards and forwards. He could see straight through you when you were lying or when you were sad, but claiming you were fine. He always remembered your favorite treats from Honeydukes and how you liked hot Butterbeer on cold winter nights. It made him happy to hear you talk about your favorite Muggle novels or tell him about something funny that happened in McGonagall’s class. He knew you better than anyone.

But why couldn’t he see the way you were yearning for him?

“You missed me?” You asked, shrinking even further into the cushions.

Fred looked at you as if that were the dumbest question he had ever been graced with. He lowered his arm at your sudden demeanor change, gently putting the book in your hand. Alicia and Katie leaned in carefully, eager to see where this conversation was going. Much to their disappointment, Fred didn’t get a chance to answer due to another member joining you on the couch.

George landed less gracefully than Fred had, basically landing on top of you and smothering you. Your shrieks were muffled in George’s Quidditch robes, Fred wrestling his brother off of you.

“Hey! George, get off of her.” He grunted, heaving his brother’s very limp body off of you.

Alicia threw her hands up in defeat at the interruption, Katie falling back into her chair. So close, yet so far. You gasped for air as George fell on the open seat next to Fred. George was way further gone than Fred. He was barely even able to keep his eyes open, let alone get any real, complete thought across.

“Nice timing, George.” Katie said sarcastically.

You gave her a menacing look, not wanting her to bring it up. George snorted, and his sentence came out more as one incoherent word.

“Did I interrupt something important?” He heavily slurred between hiccups.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to George to ruin this for you. You were discouraged that your chance had been shot down once again, but it wasn’t George’s fault. You were just glad to see your friends in such high spirits. Soon enough, the rest of the party goers had crowded towards the center of the room where you were. The party raged on well into the night, a complete celebration with dancing, singing, and more drinking.

As easily as the party could’ve carried on and on, eventually the famed players’ exhaustion caught up with them and they all slowly dwindled down and sauntered off to their respective dorm rooms. You hugged Alicia and Katie goodnight, knowing they’d be passed out in their beds by the time you got up to your dorm room.

You spoke to Harry and Ron for a bit, giving Harry a friendly kiss on the top of his head for his winning catch. His pasty white cheeks went red as he and Ron retreated to their room in a fit of blushy giggles. That left just you and the twins in the common room that was now completely trashed. Empty cups and half spilled bottles of alcohol were scattered about, people even leaving behind some of their school stuff to be recollected in the morning.

George was a mumbling, intoxicated mess. He was close to falling asleep, and Fred wanted to get him to bed before he was completely unable to stand up. You’d be up for a while cleaning up the common room. You always hated leaving a room knowing it was messy, so you didn’t mind picking up after everyone. Fred knew you’d stay behind to clean up, but he didn’t want you to have to do it alone. He draped his babbling twin over his shoulders, grimacing at how George was usually heavier when he was drunk.

“I’m going to run George upstairs and then I’ll be back to lend you a hand.” He smiled, ignoring the things that George was trying to say to him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.” You said, tossing a handful of cups away.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be lonely is all.” He said, turning on his heel and marching up the boys’ dormitory stairs with George.

You felt a warm flush course through you at his words once more. You weren’t sure why you were extra sensitive to him tonight. Sure enough, Fred returned a few minutes later, almost stumbling into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. You both laughed as he gave a witty comment.

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.” He said, walking into the room once he steadied himself.

“Is George okay?” You asked, accepting the pile of empty bottles that Fred placed into your trash bag.

You usually hand cleaned for the first few minutes, but would eventually grow bored and cast a spell from your wand to finish the work. It was seldom that the common room was this quiet, so you liked to bask in the silence for a little after there was a party.

Fred scoffed with a nod.

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be fine. Nasty hangover in the morning, but there’s a potion for that.”

As usual, the two of you were tired of cleaning, so you waved your wand with a quick cleaning charm. You both watched in amazement as the trash and everything else whisked around the room into trash bins, leaving the room spotless. You put your wand in your back pocket with a satisfied hum. Usually, this would be the time where you went to bed, but you were getting that familiar heavy feeling in your chest.

It immediately dawned on you that you had a perfect chance here. No one was around, and no one would be around for more than enough time.

“You want to sit and chat for a bit?” Fred questioned, noticing your dazed look; “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

The fireplace was still occupied with a cozy warm fire, which was very inviting. You nodded, following Fred to the same couch you had been on earlier. The common room was beyond peaceful now, your head almost lulling onto Fred’s shoulder in relaxation.

Oddly enough, you weren’t freaked out now. In all the past times you had tried to do this, you were a jittery mess and could barely get a word out without stuttering. You felt so at ease now, as if this was something you did often. You hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol tonight, so you couldn’t blame it on that.

“So what’s up?” Fred questioned after you didn’t initiate a conversation.

He had unknowingly opened a door that you knew you had to take. It was now or never.

“I’m just thinking about some things.” You admitted.

Fred’s curiosity was sparked now. He was always interested and willing to hear what was going on in your mind.

“What kind of things?” He pressed on.

Your sights were set on the flames in front of you, causing you to miss the way that Fred was looking at you with such fondness and care. He was cherishing every passing second of this moment.

“You and me.” You confessed.

Fred was filling with anticipation, not sure where you were going with this. He raised a brow.

“What about us?” He replied.

You took a breath.

“Fred, what did you mean when you said I was your favorite girl?” You queried.

Fred looked into your eyes that were peering up at him in a puppy-like way. He noticed that you were expecting an answer. Fred, as confident as ever, responded with a voice like butter, his accent a little thicker.

“Because you’re my favorite person in the world.” He revealed.

Your heart caught in your throat and your breathing hitched. So far so good.

“I am?” You asked to confirm

Fred’s arm that was around you pulled you in closer. You were being flooded with such a sense of intimacy that it was overwhelming. Your nose was level with his chin, and you were so close to his face that you swore you could hear the blood flowing through his face. Fred knew what was happening now, and he was ecstatic about it. He had wanted you all along, but never knew how’d you’d react. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you off.

He thought about all the times he had seen you upset, and how it hurt him when you were pained with something. He always wished for nothing but happiness for you. He didn’t want to ruin things because of how he felt.

But now he was sure that you’d be here to stay.

“Absolutely you are. You’re all I ever think about.” He whispered, stroking your face with the side of his thumb that was wrapped around you.

This didn’t feel real, but felt all too real at the same time.

“Why are you whispering?” You smiled softly, whispering back to him.

He smirked, and whispered again.

“Because I want you to know how much I love you.”

A cannon of confetti seemingly exploded all throughout your body. Shock, desire, lust, love, want, everything went through you all at once. This wasn’t at all how you had imagined this happening, but you were happy that it did. It was very fitting for the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You whispered once more.

He lowered his head and his lips caught yours in a feverish way. All the pent up feelings from the last 6 years all loaded themselves into the kiss. It was a huge weight off of your shoulders.

“I love you,” You professed once Fred pulled away; “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to tell you that.”

Fred chuckled lightly, responding before kissing you again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

#fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter fred weasley #seriouslysnape

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years ago

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Texts from the Lost Tomb part 9.1

…I apologize in advance.

Babysitters Club Chat

Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie just left to go sparring. I need you to come to the store with me.

Wang Pangzi: SOUNDS GREAT IVE GOT PANTS ON FOR ONCE

GET IN LOSER WE’RE GOING SHOPPING

Zhang Qiling: I do not wish to shop. I wish to acquire an item.

Wang Pangzi: OKAY POSSIBLY NO ONE HAS TOLD YOU ABT WHAT SHOPPING MEANS

ALTHOUGH I KNOW FOR A FACT WANG MENG HAS U CARRY BAGS FOR HIM AT THAT NIGHT MARKET

Zhang Qiling: The specific purpose of our trip is to secure a necklace with a ring on it. I would like your input.

Wang Pangzi: OMG R U FINALLY STARTING TO ACCESSORIZE??? IVE BEEN KEEPING HELLO KITTY EARRINGS JUST FOR YOU

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wang Pangzi: OK WHAT ABT A HELLO KITTY BELLYBUTTON RING

Zhang Qiling: if you need more context, the ring in question I am getting today is for Wu Xie.

Wang Pangzi: ….

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: BACK IN A SEC

OMFG

I CANT

…ALSO THAT WASNT TECHNICALLY A NO ON THE BELLYBUTTON RING

When Will They Get A Room Chat

Wang Pangzi: THE POOL HAS ENDED

ITS FUCKING HAPPENING

WANG MENG WE R GONNA DECORATE AND GET WASTED

Li Cu: wtf????

Liu Sang: !!!!!! Ouxing didn’t say anything!!!

Wang Meng: It’s finally happening *sniffles* my Laoban is finally leaving the nest.

Well, I mean.

He’s not leaving at all, and if anything will be around more.

And be more annoying.

I’m going to be disinfecting common area surfaces more often, that’s for certain.

But getting a ring…such commitment is so adult of him, I’m going to cry.

KanJian: how romantic:):)

Xiao Bai: ugh fine it’s awesome agreed

except damnit I bet on another month:( Who won the bet??

Wang Pangzi: IT DISGUSTS ME TO ADMIT THIS

BUT I WAS OFF BY TWO MONTHS

AND HUO XIUXIU WON

Huo Xiuxiu: Damn fucking right I did.

Black Mamba Chat

Li Cu: So.

Zhang Qiling: Yes?

Li Cu: I’m giving you my permission, like, with Wu Xie.

Zhang Qiling: But why would I nee—…that is to say, thank you.

Li Cu: the only reason I’m cool with you two totally ruining my bet timing is bc, like. if u had rushed it and gotten hitched a week into dating, like I bet on, it would’ve been like a really bad communication thing. And stuff.

Zhang Qiling: You are generally alright with everything? Is there anything you need from me?

Li Cu: not really

Like I appreciate it but U do enough

I don’t worry as much about Wu Xie when ur around

Not that I worry about him

Don’t listen to KanJian on that he’s full of lies

But like

Wushanju feels…safe. with u here.

I’m not entirely used to that yet

Zhang Qiling: Perhaps you and I should speak more often?

Li Cu: ngl one text is more than I hear aloud from you in a week

But yeah. Texting more would be nice

So yeah I think that’s pretty much everything covered there

Yep

you are the only man i can think of who would never require a shovel talk

We’re good, bro

Zhang Qiling: why are shovels involved in your conversations?

Li Cu: anyway g2g to the range to deal with another romantic trashfire

I’m beginning to get why Hei Xiazi charges ppl for shit this is exhausting

Zhang Qiling: …oh.

Li Cu: ?

Zhang Qiling: I just realized Hei Xiazi is going to hear about this.

Not A Homewrecker Chat

Liu Sang: …you’re never going to change this chat name, are you.

Li Cu: lol no. Now flip your hair, KanJian is on his way over here

Liu Sang:…pardon?

Li Cu: it worked for Charlie’s angels bro

And ur basically that except for the parts where u aren’t

Damn we should get a convertible

Liu Sang: I wonder if going behind the gate is still an option.

Li Cu: ffs get it together I did not come all the way to the shooting range just to watch you both squirm in embarrassment

Liu Sang: …yes, you did.

Li Cu: well yeah I did but that’s not the point

Lol can’t believe your precious ouxing is gonna pledge his life to my nerd trashfire

Liu Sang: Like he didn’t already devote himself years ago? Ouxing and Wu Xie have been together for decades in every way that matters. At this point, with those two, it’s just semantics.

Li Cu: damn son you should give the speech at the wedding

Liu Sang: Wang Pangzi has called dibs, but I fully intend to compete with him for the spot a la rap battle.

Men in Black Chat

Hei Xiazi: of course I will plan ur ceremony, u don’t even have to ask<3

Zhang Qiling: I wasn’t planning to ask you.

Hei Xiazi: still trying to decide if ur theme music will be “My Immortal” or “One Way or Another”

Maybe a remix ooooh

I’m thinking like maybe KanJian can be the ring bearer and slingshot your rings to you from across the room

I’m sending some links with some decorative/tastefully pornographic napkin shapes, pls state ur preferences

Zhang Qiling: Please stop.

Hei Xiazi: don’t worry Xie Yuchen will pay for everything.

He doesn’t know that yet but he will:)

U got nothing to worry abt

I’ve been qualified to conduct marriage ceremonies in like 6 religions, including one I’m excommunicated from

Xiao Ge’s Gray Hair Chat

Hei Xiazi: not even that mad U didn’t show up for sparring with me today, I figure that you’re gonna be getting busy at home;)

so happy for you too, if you catch my drift:)

Lol really the silent treatment huh?

Rude

…Wu Xie?

Men in Black Chat

Hei Xiazi: uh out of sheer curiosity and zero concern, could you ask Wu Xie if he’s just not responding to texts this morning?

Zhang Qiling: …he is with you. Isn’t he?

Hei Xiazi: uh

No he is not

I figured he was skipping our session to be with u

Then I got like this bad feeling and thought I’d check

Sooooo uh

This probably isn’t good

Wu and Zhang Chat

Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie, please respond when you see this.

Wu Xie, this is an emergency. Call me right now.

I need to know you’re alri—please call me when you can.

*five missed calls, straight to voicemail*

Men in Black Chat

Zhang Qiling: He is not with me. Or with you. Or Pangzi.

Hei Xiazi: okay. Okay this is still fine. I mean everything is fine

probably

like what’s the worst that could happen right

Zhang Qiling: …..

Hei Xiazi: I saw myself typing that and was like “hoe don’t do it” but then I did it

…fuck.

I’m calling it

It’s time to get the band back together

Main Chat

Wang Pangzi: CODE PINK CODE PINK I REPEAT WE HAVE A CODE PINK

Xie Yuchen: That’s my code, why are you using it?

Wang Meng: I made the alert code chart for a reason, Pangzi:(

Wang Pangzi: FUCK I MEANT PURPLE UGH

U KNOW WHAT IDGAF FUCK THE CHART

WU XIE IS GONE.

FUCKING GONE.

NOONE KNOWS WHERE.

AS IN NOT EVEN ME OR XIAOGE KNOW.

TRYING NOT TO PANIC HERE BUT UH

THIS IS WU XIE

AND HE IS THE MOTH TO DANGER’S FLAME

Li Cu: ….what.

Wu Erbai: You are certain? Of course you are. I need to make calls immediately.

Wang Pangzi: IF HE WAS OKAY HE’D FIND A WAY TO GET WORD TO ONE OF US

U KNOW HE WOULDNT JUST GO OFF WITHOUT TELLING SOMEONE

HES NOT THAT MUCH OF AN IDIOT

ANYMORE AT LEAST

HE WOULDNT SCARE US LIKE THIS

FUCK

HIS PHONE IS OFF

I THINK WE GOT A LIAM NEESON SCENARIO

Liu Sang: @ouxing, don’t worry; KanJian, Li Cu and I are on our way back now, we’ll make a plan.

Wang Meng: I was gone for FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.

Huo Daofu: Unsurprised. On my way.

KanJian: :(:(who would be horrible enough to steal Laoban??

Zhang Qiling: I will find him.

Li Cu: @zhangqiling okay I literally just gave u permission with him and u already misplaced him wtf dude????

Pan Zi: Just saw this. What can we do to help? And permission for what?

Zhang Qiling: Not relevant right now. And you can help us track his phone, Pan Zi.

Wu Sanxing: oh I’ll track him down alright

that copycat little shit

thinks he can just waltz off like his uncle

Amateur pfff

Wang Pangzi: GET HELPFUL OR GET LOST

Wu Erbai: I agree with Pangzi that it’s very likely Wu Xie was taken. Li Cu, stay with Kan Jian and Liu Sang until our full group rendezvous at Wushanju—this could be an attack on the family line.

Wu Sanxing: whoa so I could be a target too?

Wu Erbai: No one would voluntarily take you. Stop clogging up the chat.

Xie Yuchen: I will assist Wu Erbai in alerting the rest of the families. Huo Xiuxiu is already assembling some people.

I can assure you, whoever took him will only live long enough to regret it.

Hei Xiazi: oooh love that spice from u, sugar

Also I’m already on the move n shit, tracing backwards from where we were supposed to meet today

Wang Pangzi: CHECK ZHANG RISHAN

HE DID IT LAST TIME

THE MEGA-BOOMER ASSHAT

LETS STORM THE TEA HOUSE

Zhang Rishan: …you are aware I am on this chat, yes? It was not I.

Wang Meng: It had better not have been:) or I will shove a saucepan so far up your ass—

Hei Xiazi: listen I’m all for turning crisis centers into kinky dungeons but like for now let’s focus here bud

Babysitters Club Chat

Zhang Qiling: I will find him.

Wang Pangzi: I KNOW. DONT TAKE LI CU SERIOUSLY KIDDO IS JUST SCARED AND U KNOW HE SNAPS WHEN HES SCARED

Zhang Qiling: I am…somewhat lost in circling thoughts right now. About not finding him.

Wang Pangzi: I KNEW U WOULD BE

GET OFF THE ROOF

ACHILLES COME THE FUCK DOWN

HEY

HEY YOU

I KNOW U WILL FIND HIM. U KNOW WHY?

BECAUSE U ALWAYS DO.

THERE ARE ONLY A FEW THINGS I KNOW FOR SURE IN MY LIFE: I WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE BEST HAIR IN THE TRIANGLE, WU XIE WILL ALWAYS GET INTO THE MOST BIZARRE SITUATIONS ON A REGULAR BASIS, AND YOU WILL ALWAYS SAVE HIM.

AS MUCH AS TIANZHEN IS THE MOTH TO DANGERS FLAME, NOTHING BURNS AS BRIGHTLY AS THE TWO OF YOU DO FOR EACH OTHER

GODDAMN I GET POETIC AT THE WORST MOMENTS

Zhang Qiling: I am heading out with Hei Xiazi in a moment. I will return with Wu Xie.

Wang Pangzi: GO GET HIM, TIGER. LOVE YOU BOTH

Unnamed chat:

[blocked number]: SOS

…is anyone getting this?

#whomst #dmbj #wu xie #the lost tomb #ultimate note #pingxie #zhang qiling #iron triangle #dmemebj

37 notes · View notes

animefreak1145 · 4 years ago

Text

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

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Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know

Chapter Summary:

Pretending and being numb is the key.

Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.

“Bell”

Second Life

23:09 | February 25, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.

The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.

If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.

You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.

You can’t mess up.

A shot rings. And a heart splinters.

“It was never personal.”

You really can’t.

Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.

Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.

After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.

“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”

You blinked, giving Park a confused look.

“Advice?”

Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”

“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”

“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”

“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.

“Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“What is happening?”

“Why can’t you remember?”

“D o y o u h e a r i t ? ”

“Who is Perseus?”

“Tell me who I am!”

Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.

“They want to kill you.”

“Make it stop.”

“MK”

Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . . Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?

Pain

Pain Pain боль

боль

Pain Pain

боль

Pain Pain Pain

боль боль

It hurts.

GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—

You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.

“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”

Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.

“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”

No. You have to be useful.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”

“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.

You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.

“We got a job to do.”

And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.

After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.

“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”

“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”

Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.

Look at him, pup.

“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”

“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”

Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.

“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”

You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.

You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.

“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”

You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.

What a curse indeed.

You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.

“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”

You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.

“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”

“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.

Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.

Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.

“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”

“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”

You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.

“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”

"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"

You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.

You’ll be alone together with him again.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.

You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.

Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.

Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.

But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.

Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.

“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”

You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.

Good dogs come when they listen.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ �� ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”

“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”

You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.

‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.

Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.

You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.

Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.

“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”

That’s what you’re saying!

“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”

Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”

“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”

“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”

Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.

“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”

“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”

“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.

“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.

“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ‘raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”

Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.

You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.

“Nope.”

“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”

“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”

You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.

You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.

You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.

“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”

“And the civvies?” Larson asked.

“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.

You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.

Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.

“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.

Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.

“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”

“Don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”

You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.

You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.

“Thanks,” you said to him softly.

“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.

Such a hard ass.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.

You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.

You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.

“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”

You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.

You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.

Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?

“It’s a small price to pay.”

What does that make you?

“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”

Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”

You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.

“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”

“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”

You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.

“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.

“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”

“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”

You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.

“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”

“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”

At your silence, he glanced at you.

“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”

You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.

“Your ex-wife.” His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”

A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.

“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”

There was more but you will take what you can get.

You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.

You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.

“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.

“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”

You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.

Because he couldn’t be.

Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Perhaps he is Zeus himself.

Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.

It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.

They both also have a habit of hurting women.

He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.

Good pups stay in their place.

“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.

Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.

“About?”

You didn’t say anything.

Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.

You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.

You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.

You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.

Foolish dog should mind their eyes.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.

You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.

Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.

If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.

Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.

If only that box stayed close.

Zeus always did like to confuse.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.

“Having trouble?”

You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.

“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”

Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.

“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”

You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.

It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.

You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”

Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?

At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.

“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”

“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough. Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.

Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.

“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.

You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!

You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.

“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.

Adler rose both his brows now.

“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”

You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.

“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”

“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”

You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.

“You sure got talent, kid.”

“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”

“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”

“You first.”

He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.

“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.

“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”

“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”

You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.

You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.

You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.

“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”

Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.

“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”

“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”

Adler was silent. He never answered.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.

You understood him the best.

Only monsters can see one another, after all.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.

To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.

Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.

You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.

What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.

You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.

What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?

You’re trapped.

I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well.

Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.

DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^

Tags:

@quizzyisdone @zulema117-blog @efingart @pinkpinkboota @nuclear-boston @lifeisthemoments @jintana-critical @eclectriccanoeseven @hurricanesyd-blog @parkeepingparker @moonchild365-blog @aurora-windu @imperfectophelia @dvesinthewind @holy-crap-i-am-russlle-adler @i-will-give-you-love @adlerboi @preciouslilcreature @saynotohydra @mayaibnlaahad @smokeywhalee @0shuni0-blog @multi-fandom-imagine @littlepotatowizard @direwolfspostsrandomshit @darlingor @collinnmckinley @kayalect @nikkibell1937 @fuzzybonkeggsopera @ppfedd @bro0kebxrter @actuallyilya @stayb1ack @frankwoodsmalewife @tr1ppylady @danjer

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being an Avenger with a photographic memory

Avengers x reader

warnings: alcohol mention

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hcs for the Avengers with reader who has eidetic memory? They just remember ever little detail about everyone there?”

you were a great asset on intelligence missions, for starters!

if data couldn’t physically be acquired, they’d send you in to gather info

“y/n, everything going okay in there?” -cap

“well, yes and no”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“the mission is going smoothly, don’t worry...but while searching these files, i found some...unsavory images that i’ll never be able to forget”

“i don’t want to know”

remembering all the avengers passwords for all of their accounts, which is both a blessing and a curse

“y/n, what’s my instagram password again?” -tony

“man-of-iron79”

“thanks! you’re a lifesaver!”

or you could pull some REALLY FANTASTIC pranks on them by sending very questionable emails to nick fury

Dear Fury, I am afraid that I prefer the ice over this day and age. Please put me into cryosleep at your earliest convenience. Tony is exhausting and I need another long nap. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

you’d never seen fury laugh so fucking hard

cap had to change his password

but he did get a kick out of it

“hey, y/n, can you remind me to tell bucky to ‘fuck off’ whenever he comes back?” -sam

“this seems like something you would remember yourself but okay?”

“yeah, well i try to ignore him when he’s nearby. thanks.”

sometimes people forget that you’re not omnipotent, you just have a really good memory

reading up on as many SHIELD files you can get your hands onto for future missions

also bc sometimes clint and nat forget that they added very minor details into their reports and clint gets worked up when you somehow know about some miniscule fact from a mission 5-15 years ago

“how the fuck does y/n know about budapest?”

sometimes you wake up at night to find tony in the kitchen wearing nothing but underwear and you just regret getting out of bed

“i would say ‘forget this ever happened,’ but i know you wont so just keep moving”

unfortunately you remember all the “party nights” too

bad for you but also good for you

you remember all the stupid things you did while drunk, but you also hold all the cards since your teammates dont 😌 only steve and you know the truth and that’s enough

the team also likes talking to you !! abt anything !! bc wherever they leave off, they can immediately pick back up and you won’t forget a thing

tony said JARVIS is better than u

wanda!!! you’re collectively trying to figure out how to get rid of certain memories with her bc....no

the team encourages her to get rid of their most embarrassing moments from your head

“if you happen to find the time where y/n saw me slip down the stairs and, well, see my butt hit every step...could you just get rid of that please?” -bruce

“yeah, they’ve heard me sing before, we can’t have that existing in their mind” -natasha

“wait, no! please don’t get rid of those ones, they’re my favorite!” -you

“y/n’s mind, y/n’s rules” -wanda

stupid fucking quotes buzzing around your head all the time and every once in a while you mumble one to yourself and an avenger LOSES IT (esp if it’s their words)

“on va voir, motherfucker”

*steve’s jaw drops*

sometimes you randomly laugh at a vivid memory that comes up and everyone tries to guess which one

“uhhh, that time clint crushed a smoothie on his head?”

“when peter cried during patrol because he had finals the next day?”

“was it when tony choked on a blueberry?”

“natasha doing tiktok dances flawlessy?”

“what about thor kissing mjölnir?”

“oh, was it that time we caught steve listening to katy perry with tears in his eyes?”

good times, really good times

there were other...bad memories you wish you could have forgotten

casualties of battle.....failure......your own embarrassment

but at least you were a valuable member of the avengers !

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bruce banner x reader #thor odinson x reader #clint barton x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #peter parker x reader

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regrettablewritings · 5 years ago

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How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this.

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery, as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

#just a dumb little thing #anyway stay safe and healthy #regrettablewritings #tadashi hamada imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #dewey finn imagine #wade wilson imagine #harley quinn imagine #tadashi hamada #lucifer morning star #dewey finn #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc

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wkngsnds · 4 years ago

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So remember when I published “Whether You Fail or Fly”? I rewrote it! Well, some parts of it; I tried my best to reach the dark tone I was aiming for, fixed some things I thought were awkward, and so and so forth. I hope y’all enjoy it all the same.

I’ll post it on here too under a read more.

Title: Your Side

RATING: Teen and older audience

Two weeks ago, he never wanted a tool. Tonight, he’s grateful to his hitwoman.

Fuyuhiko had not been the type to black out during his fights; in fact, he savored every cut and bruise that he could take before Peko eventually intervened. He exists in a constant state of irritation with his anger never falling far behind. Despite being a yakuza, or perhaps that is exactly why, his anger was his weak point— almost as blinding and fervent as Kabukicho during the night. Just like his parents, he got hot under the collar relatively quickly and chose to focus all his energy on his victim, so he’s an extremist in his own right too. Fuyuhiko preferred to handle things “a man’s way”: being direct as possible instead of exhibiting a passive aggressive attitude. He believed he could smash his way through his opponents as he refused to lose sight of his goal.

Tonight was no different.

Peko never got hit during a fight— she was fast, strong, and cunning. However, it would be more accurate to say that she couldn’t afford to get hit; a thousandth second too slow, a single hair strand out of place, and it would all be over. She exists in a hypervigilant state even within the confines of the Kuzuryuu manor. It is not that she lacks trust in her “coworkers'', per say, but protecting Fuyuhiko is the only thing she finds herself capable of doing. Truth be told, even with a small army of guards roaming the grounds it does not guarantee his safety, but by acting as his shield he’s all the more safer. It’s why she keeps her mind blank, but never loses focus; that is not to say she does not think at all— if anything, she is the type to overthink matters more than someone in her position should. These constraints both forced upon her and self practiced are why her rage is restrained. She’s not the type to anger easily, but when the emotion visits her it must be leashed and kept within bounds.

Tonight was no different.

An ocean of alarm and disquietude drowned the underground of Tokyo, and nearly flooded the overground the day after Fuyuhiko confirmed Natsumi’s corpse. It had not been long until civilians heard of the misfortunate incident, and they took it upon themselves to go home earlier than usual as a precautionary measure. Even if they did not know Natsumi, her surname carried all the weight it needed to: it was not just a member of the clan who died, but someone with a direct relation to the leader. This action of avoidance, of course, did nothing to deter the Kuzuryu clan from their own private investigations; they were a 24/7 kind of business, after all. Each family belonging to the Kuzuryu-gumi had crawled out of their own holes-- those who supported Natsumi above Fuyuhiko worked especially hard to find their princess’s murderer. Then there were those, in their true yakuza nature, who wanted to take advantage of her death to strip the Ultimate of his inheritance. For them, it had not been a simple preference of the younger sibling, but instead a dissatisfaction and disfavor for their patriarch’s son. By extension, Peko received the same condemnation if not to a worse degree. Those in Natsumi’s faction who were slightly sympathetic to the heir blamed the bodyguard for his physical weakness and lack of will; her entire presence caused his spoiled and rotten nature. Put simply her existence, they thought, hindered his bloodlust. Others argued that the main family was not meant to kill as they were an ‘invisible hand’ which directed them all. A minority thought Peko to be a better yakuza than him, but they were smarter than to voice that opinion. There were also a few who thought him cursed— a way of karma for all the blood the clan spilled since its early days, and that blood most certainly flowed like a river. Nevertheless subsidiary matriarchs and patriarchs respected him as their heir at best, but they would not hold their breath for him either.

The funeral service would bring out the worst in the family.

Nastumi died in less than a week of attending the academy, so the two knew their investigation was limited to this timeframe. After confirming her corpse’s identity, the next step was to speak with the custodian who found her; if he had decided to keep information from the police Fuyuhiko had no qualms in using extensive methods of extraction. Meanwhile, Peko worked to address the rumors of a supposed pervert who was thought by the students to be the perpetrator. The mysterious figure had stolen one girl’s swimsuit, and then planned to violate the young mistress (the disgusted rage she felt momentarily dulled the pain in her wrist as her hand formed into a tight fist). Peko knew she needed to focus, so she took a deep breath and went to look for the first girl whose swimsuit had been taken; if the two were both victims to the degenerate, then it was important to establish a possible connection or a pattern. On the hand, if the attacks were random, it would have been hard to track down a possible suspect with the incredibly vague information. They also did not allow Fuyuhiko, understandably, to enter the crime scene, so her chances of success in that area were virtually zero. On the other hand, if this were a targeted attack, then there was a greater problem to be dealt with, and this girl might be connected.

She could not recall any subsidiaries with the name Sato, but it was also possible her mother married out of the respective family. Furthermore, Peko had not been ignorant to the clan’s...favoritism, but she would not be convinced by the apparent blind adoration; it could have been the start of a coup d’etat, and her young master would be the next target. Peko already failed both Fuyuhiko and Natsumi by not protecting the latter, failure to aid him in apprehending her killer or letting him die meant she truly was useless. Therefore, finding this girl and ‘speaking’ to her took over all her priorities. The kendo athlete scans the morning cafeteria until she spots her suspect (someone had kindly described her appearance) sitting at an empty table near the large windows. Like a tiger, she moves carefully to disappear from the girl’s direct line of sight and peripheral vision; she intended to take her by surprise— using that confusion to assert dominance in the conversation and as momentum for a potential confession. However, before Peko could get any closer Mikan had unfortunately bumped into her; like always, the nurse made a scene whenever she apologized to someone, and blew Peko’s cover. To make matters worse, she spotted the injured wrist she acquired from punching the wall yesterday, and became shockingly insistent on treating the wound. Mikan did not yield to any of her protest, and all but dragged her out of the cafeteria to the nurse’s office. For a weak willed clumsy girl, the kendo athlete did not expect her to be as firm in her handling.

True to her sensitive nature, Mikan noticed Peko’s state of irate despite the latter having a stoic face, and began to apologize once again. Stuttering throughout her explanation, it appeared as though she hardly slept the prior night. Mistaking the red eyed girl’s neutral, if not apathetic, question for sympathy the super high school level nurse rambled on about doing an emergency shift at a nearby clinic. Yet, even for Peko who was only half listening something felt off.

‘What you just said...was a lie, wasn’t it?’ A tit for tat question.

‘H-Huh?! You w-were able t-to tell?’ She focused on the splinting for a moment, ‘U-Um...Pekoyama would it be too presumptuous to ask...if I could c-confide in you with s-something? I-It feels like my chest is going to explode if I can’t g-g-get it out.’

She’s weary of agreeing, but slowly nods her head nevertheless.

‘I...I saw the body. Kuzuryu’s little sister...W-We found her in the music room l-last night.’

‘What did you say?!’

‘Eek! I..I’m sorry!’

‘Tsumiki, you need to explain to me exactly what happened. What do you mean ‘we’?’

At 7:30 pm, both yakuza convened at the heir’s off campus apartment to consolidate all the information they gathered. After deeming that he had nothing left to hide, Fuyuhiko “convinced” the custodian to allow him into the music room. There’s a tight feeling in his chest at the sight of the white tape— he had seen it plenty of time, but knowing it was his sister’s outline made him lightheaded. However, he knew there was no time to be distracted by his grief; he needed to devote all his energy on finding her murderer. Fuyuhiko mentioned to Peko that he saw the broken glass from where, according to the police report, the criminal had escaped.

‘It also said a nearby guard heard the sound of the glass breakin’ but never saw or heard anyone runnin’.’

‘That’s suspicious.’

‘Yeah, and there ain’t any security video footage of a shady person walkin’ ‘round campus. Not to mention, that hole in the window don’t look big enough for someone to jump through. None of this fucking shit adds up!’ He viciously kicks the low table before falling onto the couch behind it, rubbing his eyes and groaning loudly as he did, ‘Either this sick bastard is crafty as hell or...or someone who knows this fuckin’ school’s layout did it.’

She assumes a pensive position, ‘So, someone within the school is the culprit...? I believe that is an accurate deduction. There are even suspects to support your theory.’

‘W-What? Suspects?!’

‘Tsumiki, Koizumi, Hiyoko, Mioda, and a person by the name of Sato were at the crime scene. As it were, those five were the first to encounter the young mistress, and most likely—’

‘The ones who started the rumor of a pervert going around.’ His fists tightened to the point where his fingernails cut his skin and he began to bleed, ‘Those cunts...those goddamn fucking cunts...if it turns one of them killed Natsumi...I will never fucking forgive them. If all five of them were in on it...I don’t care how much blood is on my hands I’ll slaughter them all.’

Peko could not bring herself to calm him down; she shared his sentiments, after all.

The next day went by in a blur. For the first time in a long while, the two yakuza were on the same wavelength: Peko advised him to avoid confronting any of the suspected girls without enough proof less he scared them away losing their only lead. Conceding to her counseling, he keeps his distance from them and their own classmates in general. However, he did not stand by, and instead went to question a few of the students in 77A. In return, he asked her to monitor the behavior of those four— they were citizens who, more than likely, had never dealt with corpses or killings in their life which he thought gave Peko a great advantage. Bluntly put, it takes a killer to know a killer.

At the end of the day, when all was said and done their respective tasks were successful enough to narrow down their suspect list quite considerably. Fuyuhiko learned that not only was Sato with his sister on the day of the incident, but the two often bumped heads with one another. Concurrently, Peko overheard an anxious Mahiru mumble about needing to meet with the same Sato during their lunch break, so she messaged him those details when Koizumi had left the classroom. Although he didn’t find them in time to eavesdrop on their conversation, he had caught a glimpse of someone (he assumed to be Sato) throwing away what looked like paper into the garbage. At first he made sure to stay out of sight, but as soon as the coast was clear he made a beeline for the trash bin.

And just like that the number of suspects dropped from five to two to one.

In hindsight, investigating Sato and Koizumi should have been their first thought, but both were neglectful towards Natsumi’s own complaints and scheming. They had not noticed the particular animosity she held towards the photographer, and instead considered it yet another part of her antics. With Fuyuhiko constantly running away from all criticism and Peko mindlessly chasing after him, they never once considered looking behind them to see if she needed help. However, why would they need to? She was strong, probably stronger than the both of them combined and more than they’ll ever be. It is why she had been so reverend throughout the clan-- the reincarnation of a legend or perhaps something even greater than that. Where they both lacked brutality, bloodlust, and pride Natsumi made up for it a thousand times over. Fuyuhiko could still remember the day his father scolded him right after Peko rescued him from the man’s chokehold; it was a heated argument over something senseless the teenager had done earlier that week which left the patriarch a mess to clean up.

‘This is why you need a fucking tool and your sister doesn’t. Maybe if you had your act more together like her, you would be half the fucking yakuza she is!’

Whether or not they moved forward is debatable, but they left her behind to fend for herself. Natsumi was a tough girl in a league beyond their own, and they were too wrapped up in their selfish problems. Truthfully, Fuyuhiko and Peko knew they were as responsible for her murder as Sato was.

‘I will NEVER FORGIVE YOU!’

When the two finally returned to Fuyuhiko’s apartment they sloppily kicked off their shoes, and collapsed from exhaustion in the seats of the sleek black dining table. True to their upbringing, they had chosen a seclusive section of the nearby riverbank as the dumping ground. The route from the school to the river was relatively light, but the combined weight of the corpse, adrenaline, and guilt made it all the more treacherous to walk. Initially, Peko suggested contacting one of the nearby families who worked in construction to place the cadaver in concrete, and then toss it into the river. After a few moments, however, he refused. Fuyuhiko did not want to hide the body; he wanted her to rot for as long as possible before she was found— maggots crawling in and out of the holes they made of her. Normally, he wasn’t the morbidity type, but it would be a lie if he were satisfied with her death alone. Again, it was the first time in a very long while that they were on the same wavelength.

Fuyuhiko could only watch as Peko stood, unsurprisingly, before he did; she had greater stamina and...experience than he did in all of this. She left his direct line of sight, but kept herself in his peripherals. For him, once the adrenaline of killing passed, the soreness dropped upon him like a ton of bricks, his muscles were tense, and it felt as though the slightest movement made his joints crack. He could feel the phantom force from swinging the corpse back and forth before throwing it down the bank. He rested his forehead on crossed fingers as his eyes briefly crossed over; part of him felt ashamed for feeling so weak-- what did that say about his future as a patriarch? He only did the killing, but Peko, like always, ended up cleaning his dirty work. In this case, she was the one who quite literally carried dead weight on their walk to the river. He did not argue when she picked up the corpse like a sack of rice and arranged it to fit in her kendo. The angles were awkward, but after breaking some joints here and a few bones there the corpse fit perfectly. All he could do was watch her. What could he say that would not end with him being in her way? He knows he can trust her to handle this, but what gave him the right to sit back and do nothing? He can do with expressing gratitude towards her or, at the very least, express a greater sense of gratification at avenging his sister.

But all he felt was exhaustion.

“You need to bathe.” It is rare for her to speak with a semblance of authority in her tone towards him, so she captures his attention quickly. On any other day, he might have told her kick rocks for treating him like a child, but he can only put up half a fight tonight.

“It can wait until morning.”

“No, it cannot.” He heard her reach into a separate duffel bag she left in his apartment earlier this morning, “The stenches of blood and death are ones that linger if you do not remove them immediately. I am sure the doorman noticed, but kept his mouth shut.”

From the bag, she first pulled out a loofah and an antibacterial wash set. Next, there was a roll of black bags, a bottle filled with what he assumed were cleaning chemicals for the bat, and a cardboard box. He handed over the baseball cap at her request; she placed them in one of the aforementioned black bags along with her own and instructed him to throw his personal trash in there as well since she would burn everything later. He could also hear the crinkling of the paper that was used to wrap the corpse being stuffed into the bag. Watching her fix the box and line it with another black bag— the way her movements were quick and sharp nearly gave him vertigo, but it’s her calm demeanor (as if doing everything from muscle memory, which was most likely the case) that causes all his hairs to stand. This...this was her true speciality, wasn’t it?

Still not being able to raise his head, he asked if his own clothes needed to be burned as well, but the kendo athlete reminded him of the suit’s hefty price tag, thus intended to send it back home to be thoroughly cleaned. However, in all her fretting of his needs the realization hits him,

“What about your clothes?”

“Please do not worry about that.”

“You just said we have to get rid of the stench, so do you have clothes of your own--”

“Young master. Please go bathe.” Her voice initially sounded strained, then slowed down as if she were controlling her breathing. Not only was this a part of her speciality, but it was clear she had a method for her work that she hadn’t been too keen on straying from-- it was the same inflexibility (one not so different from the blond) that would get her killed on Jabberwock Island. For all the exhaustion Fuyuhiko felt, Peko silently masked her oncoming mental fatigue whilst also trying to ignore the ton of guilt weighing on her. From her perspective, she had just failed for the second time in a row: first, by allowing Natsumi to die and second, by allowing Fuyuhiko to kill by himself. It was not as though she could rid herself of any culpability, because she has disobeyed him in the past for the “sake” of his protection. So why didn’t she refuse him now? He had instructed her to act as if they were fellow high school students, so she would have been well within her orders to randomly check on her-- if not as the young master’s sister, then as a member of the Kuzuryu family she was owed the respect of being welcomed. What made his order so particular this time around that she found herself unable to deny? To make matters even worse, she allowed him to sully his hands with death while she stood and watched the bat crack Sato’s skull open. If she were forced to make an excuse, then it was as if some external power prevented her from interfering. Maybe it was a part of her, the human part, that understood it had not been her place to interject-- that she knew him well enough to know this revenge and avenge was to quench his heart from the sorrow plaguing him. No, perhaps this humanity of hers knew from the very beginning that he would not have been satisfied if Sato died by anyone's hands but his own, so she took the extra precautions to protect him throughout the conspiracy. Taking this into account, it was only natural that the tool she considered herself to be would come into conflict with the meddlesome human she actually was.

As per usual, his movements drew her out of her spiraling thoughts; his stumbling did not go unnoticed, but before she could reach him to help stand, he had already taken the wash set, grabbed his nightwear, and headed towards the bathroom.

“There’s a washer-dryer set in this closet. Wash your clothes.” The door shut promptly behind him

Normally, it took him 15 minutes to get himself clean, but the falling of hot water on his back kept him in for five minutes longer. For five minutes longer, he mulled over his ambivalent thoughts— remembering how Sato’s face contorted into shock, and then overcame by dread and terror at the sight of him...it elevated him. The way she tried to run from him, but Peko threw her to the ground; kept down by an elbow between the shoulders, yet her head kept up by her hair. He’s never felt that kind of power: having everything and everyone in his control. For once, they feared him and not her. For once, someone begged at the feet for his mercy and not his father.

Did Natsumi beg for her life?

Was she afraid?

Did she call out for him?

Then came the boiling rage once again; the jarring reality that it didn’t matter if he killed one person or left an entire town to die, he still had to bury his little sister. He knew her death wasn’t his fault, he’s not that delusional, but he thinks he could have stopped it. If he stopped running away from being compared to her, would she still be alive? He could have been a better brother if he had not been such a damn child. Would she have come to him for her personal problems if he was? If he had convinced their father that she needed a bodyguard if only to keep her out of trouble would that have kept her safe? If he let Peko go check on her, she would still be here, wouldn’t she? He watched as the blood from his hand (there’s only a crack on the tiled wall) washed down the drain, and then turned the faucet off altogether. As he dried himself, he noticed the basket he left in the washroom before the shower had almost been emptied save for his underwear and socks. He only rolled his eyes at this; she did this every once in a while when they were at home, and he grew tired of chastising her to let the maids do their jobs. Fuyuhiko could not begin to understand why Peko did these silent and small acts for him-- her only “job” was to follow his commands; going beyond that just seemed unecessary. It only dumbfounded him more when he realized, at some point, that she’d done more for him in a single week than he’d seen his parents do for each other since he was born. Of course, it was twice as aggravating when she opposed him returning those small acts every once in a blue moon.

He exited the bathroom with his pajamas on and towel over his head as he found her meditating in the same clothes she arrived in. Everything around her had been prepared: the box of his clothes was closed ready to be sent home, the ‘burn bag’ was placed into her kendo duffel, and her black yukata was folded neatly next to her.

Truly, that was what a professional looked like.

“There’s an extra clean towel in the washroom. ‘Left the soap and shampoo inside the shower for you.”

“Thank you.” Her weakened voice does not go unnoticed by him-- in fact, much of her behavior and mannerisms are more observed than she thinks. Though Peko believed herself to have spoken in perfect monotone, Fuyuhiko was able to hear the falter in the middle syllables*. It had been easier for him to count the days they were separate than together, so it would be highly alarming if he couldn’t pick out some difference in her attitude. Of course, recognizing the problem and doing something about it were two different objectives; furthermore, doing the obvious by asking her what was wrong didn’t seem like the right answer either. How many times has she asked him, and he’d brush her off at best and yell at her ‘to leave him alone’ at worst. What right did he have to interrogate her when he wasn’t the talkative type himself**?

Besides, the yakuza heir knew the kendo athlete well enough to sense that she would also brush him off in return just so that he would not worry about her. In this regard, he understood how she felt: just like him, she hated when people fussed about her or gave her any more attention than what she could tolerate. Peko was simply better at masking her disdain than he was; not that Fuyuhiko tried, of course, but still better nevertheless. In fact, this had been one of the many traits they had in common; regardless of surface level differences, Peko and Fuyuhiko were more similar at heart and at will than other people, or themselves for that matter, tended to realize. It’s why they were able to coordinate manslaughter so well.

She cleared her throat which snapped him back to reality; it’s clear he had been staring at her for far too long causing her to become both concerned and uncomfortable. She tried not to express the latter, but, again, he’s well versed in her micro expressions.

“Is there something you need, sir?” Now it’s her turn to watch his movements as he made his way to his bedroom, hands fumbling with the towel still on his head as he slid it down to his neck.

“It’s nothing. Go bathe while the bathroom is still warm.” And with that she disappeared, the door shutting quietly behind her.

Fuyuhiko released a tense sigh as he sat heavily on his bed. He could feel the conflicting twitch of his nerves; his muscles ached now that the adrenaline passed, but the near state of silence save for the hum of the shower relaxed him. If he has access to a mass fortune (legality of said money’s source notwithstanding), he might as well spend it on a condo away from the loudmouths that inhabited the Hope’s Peak Academy student dorms. Slowly, he picked his feet up onto his bed and laid down on his pillow; it felt like his head would explode with all the pulsing in his veins.

2:20 AM.

In three and half more hours, he will be awake for twenty four hours— nothing unusual for him, but worth noting in silence.

He breathed.

Shuffling was heard in the background.

2:36 AM

Fuyuhiko was half asleep when Peko finished showering, and caught her trying to leave quietly. He slowly got up and made his way to lean on the doorframe, hand lazily stuck in his jinbei, and watched her. Despite all her yukatas being black, they had subdued patterns on each of them if one looked closely enough-- the blond was trying to discern whether it was her plain one or one that he bought her. He had gotten two of them for her birthday and Christmas last year, and all but screamed at her in an attempt to convince her to keep them.

He speaks up “That’s the birthday one, right? Your yukata.”

“Yes, it is. Thank you greatly once again.” With a towel in hand, she continuously wrung out the excess water out of her hair, “The material is incredibly comfortable and breathable.”

Recognizing his semi consciousness, Peko seemed more relaxed under his watch; though it wasn’t her place to understand, she remembered him doing this when they were children. On the worst days (i.e the patriarch and matriarch endangering his life during their fights), he would not fall asleep despite being put to bed first by the maids. Instead, he would watch her nestle into her spot beside him, and only then could he fall asleep. She just like then, she told him to put his worries aside, sleep for the rest of the night, and advised him to take today off as no one would dare pester him over his absence. Though, for as long and as well as she knew him, it was ironic how concerned Peko was for Fuyuhiko yet remained oblivious to his deeper troubles. It’s why she mistook the worry in his apprehension at her leaving for a sense of weariness and exhaustion to which she promised she’d quickly leave him to rest. Of course, her words only inflamed the expression on his face (that was not ironic, but instead typical) while his arms crossed in a defensive position.

Even if she knew her heart to be kind, she could not comprehend why that kindness would be extended to herself, a tool, and therefore she could not understand why he protested her leaving.

“I-It’s the middle of the night in Tokyo; there’s some pretty drunk bastard roaming out, no doubt.”

“I will avoid confrontation.”

“Didn’t you say the lock at the girls dormitory is super loud? Wouldn’t you cause a scene entering this late?”

“I can move quickly before I am spotted.”

“Gh-- Your hair is still wet, and then you’ll get sick dumbass!”

At this she looks at him directly with a raised brow, but he doesn’t meet her gaze. Her hand rested on the string of her sword bag, “Please do not worry me. I will be fine.”

He seemed to have no more arguments.

“Then, if there is nothing else you need of me, I shall leave you alone now.” Just as she headed to the door and reached for the handle, Peko paused. Perhaps what he needed now was...comfort, though the bodyguard is not confident enough in doing such a thing-- at least, not in the way he may need it, if at all. Who could fault her hesitation? The last time she tried to ease his worries she let too much of her own weakness show and it worsened the situation.

But if she could provide him some closure...

“What?”

Her posture straightens to face him, “Sato deserved to die-- no, she deserved a fate worse than death. Even Koizumi should...” She stabilizes her breath and unclenches her hand, “I digress. You did it: with your strength and your wits, you killed Sato. That being said, accepting the fact you’ve murdered another person is not without trouble. Regardless if they deserved to die or not, regardless of how strong or skilled you are, regardless of premeditation or in the heat of the moment. Someone’s blood is now personally on your hands.”

“And there’s going to be more in the future.”

“Yes...I suppose that is inevitable. Please forgive my impudence, young master. Sleep well.”

Just like that she messed up again; she wonders when she’ll learn to just keep her mouth shut instead of trying to comfort him...or whatever that pathetic display of encouragement-- if one could call it that. Peko reckons that life would be easier for the both of them if she were a simple yes man. As per usual, being so wrapped in her worries of offending him she failed to perceive the true problem he was facing at hand. When the yakuza heir said there would be more bloodshed, he did not intend to brush her off, but meant that the responsibility and weight of killing was something he needed to adjust to sooner rather than later. Of course, his usual poor communication which fought with a trepidation he tried to hide from her did nothing to help her understanding.

Sometimes, Fuyuhiko forgets that Peko isn’t a mind reader, so there’s no possible way she would know he feared losing her the same way he lost Natsumi if she walked out the door this instance unless he spoke bluntly.

“Stay with me.”

The blond wasn’t sure if the words even left his mouth, and if they did he had not been sure if she heard him. Even though he had always been told to command her, he could never bring himself to do it-- there schools lives notwithstanding as he convinced himself it was for both of their sakes. It wasn’t like Peko’s...circumstances were unique to her; in fact, there were plenty of subordinates throughout the gang who shared her position, her ‘status’ as an object. The self-justified feudal system the clan upheld made bile rise to his throat each time he thought about it. Fuyuhiko has witnessed firsthand the horrid treatment of those people (tools, as they were denoted): the fear in their eyes, the way their bodies are thrown like rag dolls, and the absolute aura despair surrounding them. He doesn’t want that for Peko, he doesn’t want her to be his victim anymore than she already is.

In the end, it seemed that she did hear him, but not in the way he expected when she kneels with her back to the door placing her shinai on her lap.

“I don’t mean guard my door. I meant that I want you to spend the night with me.”

So much for speaking bluntly.

“Young master...?”

“Fucking hell-- look, what I meant was,” He exhales forcibly, “What I mean is...remember when we were really small, and I had those shit fucking nightmares? How I wouldn’t sleep until you climbed into bed next to me?”

He relaxed when he saw her relax.

“I understand.”

He speaks slowly hoping to regain some composure, “I know this kind of thing is inappropriate even if we’ve done it already. I-I mean, we’re high school students now, ya know? Even if it’s just sharing the same bed space, this isn’t something teenagers should be doing. But I...I just--”

“It’s fine. You do not have to explain yourself to me.”

“So you’re okay with doing it? Sh-Sharing the bed, I mean. And don’t say just yes because I asked you, got it?!”

For the third time, “I understand.”

Now it was Fuyuhiko’s turn to overthink their conversation; he knew neither of them were the ‘heart on the sleeve’ types, but he wonders how much exactly she keeps to herself. Whether she thinks him pathetic or weak, but wouldn’t dare tell him directly to his face. Whether she truly hated his existence, and put on a front because she had no other choice. Theoretically speaking, it was a silly thought to worry about. He knew she all but worshiped the floor he walked on-- excused his behavior when it shouldn’t have been excused, took all the cursing he threw at her without blinking, and so on and so forth. But knowing all this and hearing her curt responses did nothing to ease the tension of his nerves.

If Peko thought him incompetent, was there truly any hope for him?

It doesn’t take him long to set up a makeshift divide on his queen size mattress with an extra pair of flat sheets. Fuyuhiko was in bed before Peko as the latter made sure to lock the door; just like earlier, all he could do was watch her move about doing her own security check. He doesn’t think he’d ever find a justifiable reason for all his starring-- perhaps hypnotism would be the closest explanation. She does everything from opening and closing the window (checking it’s bullet resistance and angles for assassins, no doubt) to leaving the room to make sure the front door and balcony door were properly locked. When she returned, Peko looked over the bedroom; with a small sigh, it seemed her rigid inspection was finally finished.

Seconds after this, the lights were turned off as now the soft glow of his bedside lamps filled their portion of the room. The mattress dipped when she sat down, and Fuyuhiko heard the faint sound of the silver haired girl fixing her bamboo sword between the bed frame and the nightstand. Her glasses were the last to leave her body, and joined the lamp on said stand. However, before she could lay down Fuyuhiko stopped her with a sudden jolt that even caught her off guard. The yakuza heir reached under the pillow to find the tanto knife he always kept hidden. She had lent it to him long before they arrived at Hope’s Peak Academy— when they went to different high schools; if she were to be separated from him, then at least he could use it to defend himself. Obviously, there were no qualms of ‘packing’ in the estate, but no one bothered to give him a weapon in the first place-- he even had to use part of his allowance to buy his favorite brass knuckles. The clan members assumed with her by his side she was the only weapon he would use. Nevertheless, there had been a sense of satisfaction for Peko that he had kept it with him for the past two years. She had selected the knife from her collection based on what she assessed of his skills and strength. Once he placed the weapon beneath his pillow, their bodies collapsed on top of the blankets— each letting out an exhaustive sigh. It was the kind of exhaustion that made it impossible to sleep despite a long day of physical labor. Neither of them could be bothered to switch off the lamps, so they laid in silence for a few moments, eyes facing the smooth ceiling above them.

“Hey, Peko. My bad for cutting you off like and saying shit like that.”

Peko was never sure how to take his apologies; she was not the type to hold grudges, and she had never done so with him. They were unnecessary, as she thinks she would forgive him no matter what he does (to her or otherwise). Therefore, she took a moment to choose her words carefully; perhaps if their relationship were better, she would be able to speak more comfortably around him.

“You needn’t apologize. You are correct: once you ascend to your role as the patriarch, you will have even more enemies.” Her tone becomes more assertive, “Rest assured, I will be the one to dirty my hands and cut them down if they oppose you.”

“I still should let you speak.” He stared back at the ceiling, “You said something like that before, ‘Someone’s blood is my hand now’. What were you gonna say after that?”

“Simply...that it would be wise to detach yourself from what you’ve done. Regret is futile, but to associate this with any kind of pleasure is dangerous as well. If you let Sato haunt you it will be as if you never killed her at all.”

“I-Is that what you do?”

Peko eyes darted across the roof above them as if looking for something that wasn’t there. She was a child the last time she gave too much thought into her first assassination; she’s more ashamed for allowing her emotions to seep through than the killing itself.

“I don’t feel anything when I do. Not anymore.”

“When was the first time,” Why does he keep pushing her about this, “That you killed someone?”

How could she forget, “When Mr.Hiromitsu notified Lord Raiden that his team identified our kidnappers, I was instructed to dispose of them.”

He could only stare horrified at her. How does one respond to that? To be told that the person laying next to you, who you grew up with and were closer to anyone else in this world, had been turned into a murder at the age of six. He knew his father wasn’t a saint and in fact might have been the devil himself, but there was something particularly putrid about involving children with his bloodthirst. What was the point of having a code if the boundaries were blurred altogether? Sure, Peko had stained her hands with blood now, but what was his father hoping to accomplish by sending her out to do something so dangerous at the age of six? What if Peko failed and died? Did his father, or his mother for that matter, think they could just replace her without him noticing or caring? His parents should be smarter than that. His parents should know...

He might have been foolish enough to fear her as children, but they should have known how worse everything would have turned out if they let her die.

“Young master, I am sorry for my failures on that day.” Her voice brought him back before he spiralled into an abyss.

“Huh?! Peko, what the hell are you talking about? We’re both still alive ‘cause you were the only one who had any sense left.”

The swordswoman sat up, feet swinging onto the floor— he couldn’t see the expression she was making, but he didn’t need to know she was blaming herself. Again.

“My inability to control my emotions worsened our predicament. If I had controlled myself as I was supposed to,” Her fingers gripped the yukata, red eyes dulled and downcasted, “Then perhaps we would have returned to the manor sooner. If I kept my head clear…it is my fault we were lost in those woods for so long.”

He quickly sat up, “Peko, we were six! I’m pretty fuckin’ sure any normal six year old-- hell, any normal person would have also been scared out their fuckin’ wits. Weren’t you just on my case about letting shit go?”

“That is…” What he didn’t expect was for her to turn to him with a pained expression; somewhere along the lines of pleading, regret, and shame all bundled into eyes that once, unwillingly, struck fear into him, “I’m...not...a normal person, I’m-- I am my young master’s tool, a tool to protect you and to kill for you. That is my only purpose. I should never make you doubt your safety. This also means that I must protect what is precious to you, and Lady Natsumi...if I were not so useless she would still be alive and you would not have dirtied your hands.”

It returned again: the heavy feeling in his chest that was filled with remorse and his self-loathing. He knew she was right, but not in the way she thought. How many times had he pushed for her to be independent of him, to express her opinions and insight? Then, the one time she did as he asked he proceeded to not only dismiss her altogether, but brushed off her rightful concerns for Natsumi’s adjustment into Hope’s Peak. He knew his sister better than anyone, knew the type of trouble she would get into in a normal high school; sure she could throw her weight around ordinary bastards, but this school had its fair share of freaks and superhumans. He also knew that she had Peko run her a few favors (both normal and yakuza related), so it would only be natural for the swordswoman to investigate her transfer even if had no desire of doing so.

“You...you can’t blame yourself; you were just following my orders. Natsumi was my responsibility and mine alone, and I fucked it up by not checking in on her.”

But Peko, as stubborn as Fuyuhiko, would not hear it.

“Sir, you mustn’t blame yourself. If I were a tool capable of being trusted, then I am sure your orders would have been different.”

“Why don’t you get it already? Out of everyone in this world, you’re the only person I can trust. Everyone else is willing to kill me without a second thought.” It felt like he was suffocating, “You’re always putting my life first with no damn regard to your own. You're not invincible, Peko!”

“That is exactly why I intend to fulfill my purpose as your tool until I am a corpse at your feet.”

“Goddamnit, we are done with that crap!” He’s grateful that the room was sound proof, “I don’t want a tool! Tools can’t die. They become dull, they break, and you replace them, but they definitely cannot die. If some fucking rotten cunt smashed your skull in you’d die!”

“I-I wouldn’t let that happen, I assure--!”

Peko’s eyes widened when he suddenly gripped her shoulders; shaking her not violently, but almost desperately as if she would have disappeared into thin air if he didn’t cling onto her that very moment. She had not realized the full look of anxiety and fear on his face until she fully met his stare for the first time that night.

“But you can’t know that,” His voice broke, “You can’t possibly fucking know that! What the hell’s the point if you’re dead?! Natsumi thought she was untouchable, that’s why she was all starting shit with everyone around her. And now what? Now we have to cremate her.”

Finally, his guard breaks and he rests his forehead on her shoulder,

“So, please...stop saying you’ll protect me until the day you die. I don’t...you can’t expect to keep going with whatever life you give me. It’s not worth it, because if I have to bury you too—”

“...Young master?” Peko remained as still as she could; his voice was so weak that she feared he’d fade away from existence if she made any sudden movements. He was so close to her she was sure he could hear, if not feel, her erratic heartbeat-- not that he fared any better than her at the moment, of course. Since neither were the hugging type (at least not openly), the silver haired girl thought to support him through a light touch on his arms.

“Please don’t leave me. I’m so afraid. I can’t do this on my own, Peko, I need you.”

Suddenly, his confession sparked a fundamental shift within the two. From her shoulders, Fuyuhiko’s hands now clung onto the fabric of her back leaning into her more, and Peko welcomed him without a second thought. Relying more on her instincts, one arm supported his weight while her other hand rested below the nape of his neck. An outsider looking in may think it a fond scene: two high school sweethearts expressing their love for another in the middle of the night. However, that sort of naivety could only last so long. What the outsider misunderstood was their embrace had not stemmed from affection or intimacy, but possession and obsession as they clung to one another.

In other words

“I will never leave your side, young master. There is no other place for me than by your side. If you wish for me to stay next to you for all eternity then that is where I shall stay no matter what. Even if the world turns upside down, I will stay beside you.”

“Good.” He pries away from shoulder just to meet her ever intensive stare; it doesn’t affect him anymore (he welcomes it), “Peko, from now on it’s just you and me. Not as master and tool...just together, okay? We live together and we die together.”

“Then let us die of old age and nothing else.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Finally, they laid down embracing each other and fell asleep.

———

#kuzupeko #peko pekoyama #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #pekoyama peko #kuzuryu fuyuhiko #kuzupeko fanfic #danganronpa #danganronpa 3 #danganronpa anime

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whiterbone-a · 4 years ago

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i wanna know what your take on the nanami / gojo relationship is ?? cause a big part of me is like nanami isn't someone who really talks , like you won't get inside of him and he'll make jokes here and there with the whole work is shit thing . but i think he lost his heart and happiness alongside yuu and i think he even said this wasn't a mission first years should be on and the fact that yuu looked up to getou and gojo so much and still got killed was like a fucking blade to the stomach.

i mean do you think there is a romantic possability , i do play around with it but at the same time do you think it would be comforting ?? like i know the big ship is gojo and getou because of how close they were but what is nanami to gojo , a tool and a function or a friend and possible lover ??? and how will his death effect him ???

also were gojo actively smiles , nanami only smiles when death is around the corner and i am like red flags here and there . but sorry this got so long and please feel free to ignore it .

hello and welcome. take a seat and thank you for joining me. if this doesnt make sense just pretend u know what im talking about, its the adhd for making my thoughts so scattered everywhere

so in concept the nanami and gojou ship in a romantic concept is rly cute in concept like u have an ex - salary man whos serious doesnt allow himself the luxury of acting his age but on the other end u have someone who still acts like hes a child and never takes anything serious even when hes fighting. they both endured the trauma being a jujutsu sorcerer entails yet they have nothing in common -- gojou dresses like hes a reflection with the moon and nanami, the sun. also the fact that gojou thinks that he, himself, is ascended above all he works with while nanami is just a human living his day to day, and lot of ppl use this as nanami to bring down gojou to his morality just like a nudge or a friendly reminder. he even tolerates and puts up with him a lot more than he should. hes very patient but very honest. a lot of the fanart of them is SO CUTE esp when theyre married and living happily with one another. i even ship them, its actually one of my top ships next to satosugu but like in reality its not so great unfortunately

honestly? theres a small slim of a possibility but due to the nature of the clash of personalities and what their job its like ... not rly possible

nanami, even out of being a salary man, fully treats being a jujutsu sorcerer as a 9 - 5 job and refuses to work overtime. he has small luxuries like he enjoys reading and eating left overs after a day of working hard like who wouldnt and not to mention hes the type to keep his relationships strictly professional. gojou has probably asked him several times to take him out for drinks after work (altho work never ends with gojou which is ironic) and has said no. it’s funny now that i think about it, shouko probably asks him for an occasional drink after hours and he accepts because at least he likes shouko and he knows theres no ulterior motive from her just a couple of coworkers doing some heavy drinking but nothing ever more than that -- hes even said that he wants to get married but when hes no longer a sorcerer

sucks tho, because like everyone else, nanami sees gojou as someone who is extremely powerful and only sees him for his techniques except more like hes a nuisance and extremely annoying, even to the point of having absolutely no respect for him. he realizes, yeah hes strong but as for the full package that is satoru gojou? there’s absolutely nothing to respect about that man

and while we’re talking about gojou, i’ll say it, he’s mentally unstable. i mean, we all knew that -- hes got a couple of “screws loose” as he puts it inside that rattling brain of his. on the opposite side of the spectrum, hes not capable of handling a romantic relationship. hes always always busy, its rare that that he gets a breather for himself. hes always being sent out on missions out of country and ive always portrayed gojou as the type of partner thats not even gentle on his partners in terms of being playful, childish, and being a nuisance. his mental health is absolutely terrible (i’m not saying nanamis is any better but) hes always acted much younger than what he is altho i do blame his upbringing for that.

and gojou treats everyone as good friends but does like to particularly pick on ppl who take themselves too seriously (nanami and utahime), mei mei and yuki are exempt from this. he also doesnt rly care for ichiji but like, that doesnt matter LOL.

i do see nanami eventually giving in for one (1) after dinner ‘date’ after work but when gojou is actually less himself, hes tolerable to be around which isnt saying much tbh. you should def listen to the nanami and gojou drama audio if u can! they’re so fucking funny as a pair, which solidifies them as being cute but were not talking about that rn.

in terms of being ‘what are they’ to each other, its hard to tell. i talked about it briefly as nanami reminding him of his morality and being his humility tho gojou doesnt act like it, he fully believes hes above all and everyone, lovers and close friends are included in this. i read a lot of nana/go fanfics and they portray nanami as someone to push down his ego; to remind him hes actually Not all that great, a child in an adults body, etc. he’s a brutality honest man and gojou can take critic and criticisms to his person but that doesnt mean hes going to listen (and he doesnt, hes even self aware that his personality sucks ass but does he bother to change? absolutely not and he wont start now nor for anyone else).

yuu did definitely help nanami change and shift his ideas about the world, esp hating the jujutsu society afterwards. like, i dont blame u king, it sucks ass. tho, i dont think nanami looked up or cared for gojou and getou that much. getou he looked up to more so because at least hes as a respectable guy, strong, good looking, and stimulates intellectual conversations. gojou? not so much. nanami probably thought that it doesnt matter if u have techniques that is extremely rare to acquire and even more so to master but u suck ass and u dont stimulate joy to be around.

nanami is a good friend and high school buddy to gojou and nanami would definitely call him ‘coworker’ or something along those lines when hes annoyed him too much or doesnt want gojou to benefit too much from simple acknowledgement. gojou thinks hes an ascended being but he definitely respects and finds nanami to be a strong sorcerer and was rather surprised when he took the 9 - 5 job but it was definitely safer.

death ... ah, i think about this all the time. it’s like losing suguru all again except he didnt go rogue and kill a whole village. hes absolutely confident in nanamis abilities to fend off curses and hes too stubborn to let himself die as well, so the idea of him dying doesnt ever cross his mind. thats a true stab to the gut to hear that nanami has died, maybe a moment of truly being unhinged and a darker nature but we wont rly know until it happens in the manga, which i cant wait. i mean, at least mei mei, utahime, and shouko are around but this is nanami were talking about. if this was in terms of a romantic relationship rather than a simple seemingly one - sided friendship of enjoying of being around that person but that person just tolerating him and hoping he goes away eventually. i can’t say, i can’t say! just take these thoughts with like a grain of salt.

also that last statement in the ask, gojous smiles are fake and a mask while the rare times nanami does smile, its genuine.

regardless of what i said, i think it can be a comfy ship! this ship isnt toxic but any means (unless u make it toxic then well, thats a you thing) so just enjoy it! i know i do i think as long as u recognize that maybe neither of them being a relationship would benefit the other then go stupid go crazy, i know i will.

#jupitersnake #tldr its cute in concept but reality they just dont suit each other but #im a sucker for opposites attract so catch me all over the nana/go tag baybe!!!!!!

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thesaltyace · 4 years ago

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big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.

Urgh

I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh

Everyone has hints of autism.

okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.

He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.

Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.

You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.

But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:

As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.

I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.

I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.

I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.

Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.

My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.

I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.

I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).

I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.

I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.

Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)

Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.

I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.

I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."

Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0

And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!

But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.

Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.

idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.

Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.

idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0

#rant over #for now #I've actually been listening to Inside for the last twenty minutes already lol #maybe I'll try to nap #idk #blergh #yay Shit is playing now and I'm like LOL cause I did wake up at 11:30 feeling like shit #woot #what a bop #I'm like hell yeah you get it #let's vibe

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otogetranslations · 6 years ago

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Announcing of Dropping DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE;BLOOD

To sum things up:

Someone leaked the Diabolik Lovers Limited V Edition patch, posting it publicly despite all our warnings and requests. Thus we are following through with our original policy.

We’re stopping every projects related to Diabolik Lovers, including further support for Limited V Edition, and there won’t be a patch for More;Blood.

Collar x Malice Unlimited will still be released, but privately. After all, you guys will get the English version of it from Aksys for the switch next year!

I (the leader of otogetranslations) will still be helping other translators with their projects: Brothers Conflict, Hakuoki SSL. How the patch is gonna be distributed is up to their respective leaders (coquettishcat for Hakuoki SSL, and PassionandBrilliance for Brothers Conflict).

No more Black Wolves Saga. This project I (Reishiki) started by asking permission to use existing translation from orlandoblue @tumblr, Siberia (twitter.com/bakemeatz). The patch of Black Wolves Saga Bloody Nightmare is to be completed soon. But it’s no more.

Read on if you wanted to know what really happened:

As you all know, we released DIABOLIK LOVERS LIMITED V EDITION fan translation patch this August 16th, 2019 for homebrew enabled/hacked Playstation vita, and only for people that have proof or purchasing the game.

There are over 50 people who showed us the proof of purchasing the game and they received the patch for free. All we asked was for you to actually buy the game before you can play it with a hacked playstation vita.

Our 30-people team worked on the patch for 10 months. We only used outsource translation for 8/277 total scripts. Our in-house hacker did the romhacking process, our in-house proofreaders proofed the translation, our recruited translators worked on the translation. Everything was done by us and it’s our team effort. So we have the right to decide how we’re gonna distribute it.

However, on August 20th, 2019. Rojaaalice on reddit r/vitapiracy posted a thread, asking the patch to be given to them for free (without purchasing the game). A lot of people who frequent this subreddit accused us of being Gatekeepers, while all we’re doing is asking for proof of purchasing the game (not the patch, the patch is 100% free). Is buying the game you play wrong? Is asking for a proof of purchasing something you play gatekeeping, when we could have chosen to not share the patch at all in the first place?

I don’t think so.

But, this person, SilicaAndPina (https://twitter.com/SiliCart) is not happy with how we distribute our patch. He said that we should keep the vita hacking scene free, we can’t ask for people to buy anything to be able to get the PATCH that we worked on. He doesn’t play otome games in general, and he doesn’t even know what otome games is.

He started to trick me into giving the patch to him, by making a fake proof of purchase with a cloned gmail account. I noticed the proof was fake and didn’t give it to him. Then he got mad and sent this (WARNING: GORE IMAGE) to me. He stated that he will leak the patch eventually.

He attempted to acquire the patch once again with a different fake proof this time. I also noticed this and we trolled him by sending him a FAKE patch. We left the prologue in English and put ridiculous/crack fanfiction in other parts. He thought it was real and distributed it, declared he has won over us.

He thought he tricked us but no, we weren’t being tricked by his half-assed effort.

Today, August 22nd, there is someone from the DiaLover Fandom that received the real patch sent it over to him. I’m sorry to say that the patch would be leaked eventually, one way or another, because if someone really wants to leak it, they could buy the physical copy, take a photo with it and send it to us. Then they can sell the game to get the money back.

So, we lost.

But to the one that sent the patch to him, lost to the malice of this world, and not to him.

I had envisioned this would happen when I first started the project. So I’m not surprised. I had a small ray of hope this wouldn’t happen so soon, but I was wrong.

As we’ve stated before, we will cease every project translation related to DIABOLIK LOVERS.

No more patches of DIABOLIK LOVERS will be made from us, at least when I’m the leader of that project (as well as the leader of otogetranslations): Reishiki.

I’m proud to say our patch was enjoyed and praised by people that bought the game and received the patch.

I (Reishiki) will still be supporting other translators if they need it, but I won’t start any new project from now on (in which could be AMNESIA LATER/CROWD/WORLD, VARIABLE BARRICADE - these games I completed extracting the texts with our inhouse hacker’s help, and I planned to announce we would start one of these projects soon. But… I’m sorry to say that it’s no more. At least it won’t be made available to the public.)

Thank you everyone for your support.

These are our team members opinions:

JokerTrap-Ran: I think I just lost faith in the community as a whole again, coming back after 4 years. I hope you’re happy! This was really demoralising and I hope ya’ll had fun putting us down like that. I’m not one for drama and honestly I’d very much like to stay out of it considering the bad medicine bashing that happened on otome reddit about 3 years ago. I’ll continue releasing translations for blog’s followers but that’s it. I’m whimsical, and most of my followers know it. I pick things and I drop it all the same.

Khikari: For those who thinks that what we have committed is blasphemy and should be shut down for this, great, please take the time to learn Japanese yourself. Or learn to care about other people with emotions for once in you life. Demoralising people who were willing to work endless hours for free with just one condition sure is satisfying, isn’t it? It really hurt all of us. For those who genuinely cared and are saddened by this post, I am sorry and I wish the best for you all. I know that the few doesn’t represent all but this is a massive motivation killer, and I don’t need this drama in my life. From now on, private translations all the way! Also, Silica, attacking an idea is fine, but attacking people with malicious intent is stepping out of line. Enjoy being a rock specimen.

LoliChan195: I hope you are happy with what you have done! We only wanted to bring this out for people that had difficulties playing the game, and also help support Rejet by having more people buy their games. Its people like you that cause all these game companies to go bankrupt! (Also SiliCar, you sick fuck. Who sends pictures like that!? XD you’re probably just some edgy 12yr old XD Besides, who says WE WILL NOT FORGIVE XD what a dumbass! And is it that hard to search on google about the game? Why would we make it so it specifically needs to be the limited edition?!?! ) Seriously, the people who attacked us for putting the rule out are just as bad, like can’t you just wait and buy the game? Or even if u just pirate it, read online translations. Its not that hard!

Hermy: Nothing much to say, except, ya’ll could have totes pirated the game and played it along the translations available on the net. Welp, I hope you don’t dislike that idea too much because that’s what ya’ll gonna need to do if ya’ll wanna play the sequels.

PS: the MB translations available on the net are riddled with errors, but by all means have fun with them :)

Anon: Oh yes, silica? Perhaps you should just lead on with your true intentions next time instead of trying to honey your words and do some "re-con" for dots, yeah?

Marzi: I'm a bit numb to this situation at this point, but it is disheartening to know Silica was so intent on distributing our translations that he didn't stop even when we threatened to cease all translations. It wasn't like he was ever going to play the game - he just felt so personally offended by the fact that we were "gatekeeping" for some reason - which, in my opinion, is a bit of an immature reason to ruin a translation group. You can't argue that we're "unrightfully holding something when we don't have the intellectual rights," when you're bypassing all copyright laws as well in wanting to post it PUBLICALLY. But what's done is done - whoever manages to get a copy of this, I hope you enjoy it. Please know so much effort and passion went into these translations, and that we loved working on this project every bit of the way. If the game leaves you antsy for More Blood well LOL you know who prevented that from happening.

Sonic-nancy-fan: I never knew someone could have such an illogical mindset. Silica/PSSDude made the original base repatch program, and we used one that someone had edited and added to (which Silica was fine with). But, because he made the original one, that means he feels like HE can getekeep all uses of variations of it. This would be like saying people can’t use paper to make a paper airplane because the original creator of paper said no, or you can’t print manga because Gutenberg said no. Also, who in the world thinks they can take a moral high-ground by telling us to promote piracy? Patches are already a sort of grey area, so we were trying to take the most legal method available while still making a patch. I know in modern society, piracy is very common, but I can’t imagine your average person would call us in the wrong for trying to hinder piracy. God forbid we try to get people to buy Diabolik Lovers. I can’t say I’m shocked as I expected it to get leaked sometime. I’m just saddened at certain people’s general hate and unyielding desire to leak it. So, I don’t blame the community as a whole, nor do I feel any malice toward the community (we had a lot of people buy the game and get excited). I’m just mad at very specific spiteful people. Also, if I ever hear someone say “the scene” as much as Silica, I’m going to go nuts. It sounds like something the “cool guy” in an 80’s show would say.

#diabolik lovers #otogetranslations #announcement

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kae-karo · 6 years ago

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hi so i saw this post (x) and

giran: hey kiddos we got a box of these heelys by mistake i'll give em to ya for ten bucks each

shiggy: WE'LL TAKE IT

compress: do we even have that kind of money?

shiggy: shut up magic-man, the kind gentleman is making us a very generous offer.

shiggy: which we WILL be accepting

dabi, chillin on a bean bag in the corner: do u even know what heelys are

shiggy: shut up you second-rate endeavor

dabi: fine see if i fuck u any time this week

shiggy, turning back to giran: use AFO's credit card it should still be valid

giran: sure, whatever, have fun

toga, coming out from somewhere: ooooooooooo shiggy, whatcha got?

shiggy: *very proud of himself* we have heelys

twice, also coming out from somewhere: WE HAVE HEELYS???

dabi, cackling in the corner: a whole box

toga: ooooooooo i always wanted those!!!

shiggy, convinced this was a fantastic idea if the real villain wanted them: indeed, it was a strategic purchase from giran. i did some excellent negotiating to acquire them

dabi, losing his fucking mind in the corner: expert negotiating yep

compress: *staying totally silent as he opens the box*

toga: oooo do they have a size seven????

twice: and an eleven!!!!

shiggy: i'll take the largest, since i'm the leader

dabi: *making weirdass noises cause he's laughing so hard it hurts*

spinner: oooo what we got?

toga and twice, simultaneously: HEELYS

spinner, losing his fucking mind: we have heelys oh my god that's so fucking cool shiggy did u get these for us???

shiggy, starting to get a little suspicious that he hasn't just purchased a very useful weapon: i did...

spinner: AWESOME, you're the best leader ever!!!!! hey hey compress do we have a size nine?

compress: uhhh yep, and we've got a men's six, will that work for u toga?

toga: I HAVE BIG FLUFFY SOCKS *disappears to get said socks*

compress: twice, here's yours, and spinner

shiggy, watching with increased horror as he realizes he just bought some shoes: they're,,,,,,,,,shoes

twice: *already lacing his heelys up* yea what'd u think?

toga: *slides into the lounge or w.e with her fluffy socks* twicey can you help me with my shoesies?

shiggy: what have i done

spinner: oh my god they're all the same style, we can be matching! it'll be like a cool team uniform

dabi: *cackling in the corner*

compress: dabi, did you want a pair?

dabi, glancing at shiggy, who looks some mix of horrified and pissed off: hell yeah give me an eleven as well

twice: WATCH ME BOSS! *runs through the lounge and then starts heelying*

toga: oooooo yay i wanna try!!! *does it but not very gracefully, twice catches her when she stumbles* aw, that's hard!

spinner: watch and learn, noobs *proceeds to fail even harder than toga*

toga, pouting: it's really hard isn't it????? hey hey dabi wabi are you any good at it???

dabi, quirking a brow at a now-fuming shiggy: i suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we? *executes a flawless glide with the level of coolness that spinner could only aspire to*

toga: ooooo that was so good!!! *little claps*

twice: hey teach me how to do that, you looked like such a badass! he looked stupid as does everyone here including you you idiot

spinner: hey boss, you gonna get in on this heely action?

shiggy, one second away from disintegrating the entire box: we are sending them back and putting our money toward something more.......useful

dabi, heelying across the lounge: what a shame, i'm sure hawks would love to try them out

shiggy, suddenly interested: he.....would?

dabi, totally bullshitting: oh yeah, yep, he's a big fan of these kinds of trends

spinner: yeah he seems like he's pretty funky fresh with the trends *attempts another glide, falls flat on his face*

dabi: besides, it'd be rude of us not to treat him as an equal, if he's to be joining the league

toga: yeah!!!! hawksy should come heely with us!!!!

shiggy: he thinks they're cool?

dabi, still heelying flawlessly across the lounge: absolutely. he'd probably think the league was even cooler if he saw us all heelying

shiggy: all of us?

dabi: oh yeah, all of us. in fact, i think he'd expect it *heelys over to shiggy, leaning to whisper in his ear* i mean, he'd hardly respect you as a leader if you weren't participating, would he?

shiggy: compress. get me a size ten.

-----ten minutes later--------

shiggy: this shouldn't be this hard they're just shoes

twice and toga, heely-dancing: it's so fun boss, thanks for the gift!

shiggy: not a gift!!! we can...use this....somehow....... *scoots himself forward a few inches on the heels before stumbling and nearly falling over*

dabi: so i told hawks to come over

shiggy: take it back right fucking now

dabi: oof sorry boss no can do, he said he's already on the way

shiggy: *scoots with more determination*

spinner: hey dabi can you teach me how to do it all cool like you do?

dabi, quirking a brow at spinner: .................no. *heelys off toward the door to wait for hawks*

shiggy: dabi i refuse to allow you to open that door for-

hawks, bursting down the door, lowkey out of breath from flying so fast: i was told there'd be heelys

#bnha #league of villains #dabi #shigaraki #my hero academia #kt #bnha crack cause i can't take crack seriously when i try to write it like a real fic #i spent too long on this last night so i have to share it #thanks rosey for listening to and validating my dumbassery #crash

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bssaz97 · 6 years ago

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RWBY Ancestries Chapter 3

* So I want to apologize to those who have been waiting for me to update, I wanted to upload this close to the last chapter but I recently got the flu over the weekend and still am recovering. But to bring out the pacing of this story, the big reveal probably won’t occur until chapter 5. Mostly to get a feel for how the characters are going to be feeling before the big reveal and because it’s Salem of all people coming to Atlas, you need to set a good canvas in sense, no rushing here. Anyway on to the story!

- In Mantle, Unknown Building -

Mercury: So let me gets this straight. The Queen of Grimm, your boss, just found out that she has a living relative, and in that excitement decided to say ‘fuck it’ with the plan to get the relic and come here to have somekind of a family reunion? Did I get all that right, doc?

Watts: (Groan) While I would have worded that more tacitly, yes that is correct.

Mercury: (Nods) I see, so on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?

Emerald: (Whispers) Look Mercury, maybe this is a good thing? We don’t have to retrieve that dusty old heirloom anymore, and to top it all off maybe her ‘highness’ won’t be so threatening?

Watts: I wouldn’t count on that goodwill too much. Now that Ironwood knows that she is coming, it’ll make our escape more difficult. I’ve never seen her act with such abandon and she seems completely oblivious to any of her other goals.

Tyrian: (Humming)

Mercury: (Looks at the joyful psycho, then to Watts) What’s he so happy about?

Tyrian: (Decides to cut in) Oh? Lil ol me? I’m just happy that my theory about the blonde knight became a reality.~

Emerald & Mercury: (Ō_Ō)

Watts: (Facepalms) You see children our dear associate here has been holding a belief that the boy was in some form or another had a relation to our ‘wonderful goddess’

Tyrian: And for so long! The good doctor here as been chastising me that my theory was ‘work of fiction and obsession’ he said. But guess what?~ I’m the the one proven right in this matter! And I’m just basking in my genius?

Watts: What you mean is you got lucky and for once one of your preposterous theories was correct! Just because you’re right about this one doesn’t mean your other ones are right either!

Tyrian: You say that but we both know that you are just petty that I was right and you were wrong!~

Watts: Ok to go back to the subject at hand, we are going to need to improve our escape from the kingdom as I’m sure that Salem is too preoccupied to other matters to concern herself with us.

Mercury: So how do we that, steal a airship?

Watts: Of course not what do you take me for an amateur? No. We’re not stealing an airship, in fact I have a newly acquired friend with bottomless pockets who can give us the aid we need.

- Atlas Academy, 45 minutes before Wyvern arrival -

Teams RWBY and JNPR are in the girls dorm so the team leaders can properly explain the situation to their teammates.

Yang: You know I always figured that one day we’d probably have to face Salem, it’s just... didn’t think it be so soon. (Chuckles unhumorously)

Ren: Did General Ironwood say what exactly is the plan. The last time we encountered a Wyvern... it didn’t end well for anyone.

Ruby: (Exhales) Look everyone I know how much this situation is bringing back bad memories, myself included, but we’re not the same first years we were all those years ago. We’re a lot stronger than when we’ve first started and now we have enough experience to deal with this. But if anyone has anything to say before we head out that door... now would be a good time as any.

Silence fills the room for a few moments.

Ocsar: (Stands up from his sitting position, everyone directs his attention towards him) Everyone, I know I haven’t been apart of this group long, heck I haven’t even been a hunter in training until about a few months ago. But I just want you all to know one thing.

Oscar gathers up his courage.

Oscar: I’ve always lived on a farm, and didn’t know too much about the outside world. In fact the only thing I ever knew about huntsmen was from old stories my uncle used to tell me. Though for some reason it always seemed like a fairy tale to me. But then I got reincarnation of an old wizard inside my head, I left my home to go off an quest to save the world, I met a group of people who would become some of the best friends I could ask for. I know it hasn’t been easy and it’s been hard for everyone, but I just want you all to know... I’m glad to here with all of you in the end.

Nora: ... End? Who says this is the end? I mean sure we know you-know-who can’t be killed but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. I mean we’ve come this far, it’s like Ruby said we’re stronger than we were before. So why don’t we just show that Grimm lady just how strong were are.

Nora stands up as well and stands beside Oscar. Pats his right shoulder.

Nora: And don’t you worry hun’ we’ll be there with you all the way.

This motivates the remaining members of of the group to stand as well.

Weiss: I must say you two really have a way with words for when it counts.

Yang: Yeah don’t think we could put it together guys.

Blake: Besides well have each other’s backs.

Everyone stands in a circle and extends their dominant hands for a team huddle.

Ruby: No matter what happens, we’re all coming out of this alive, whatever it takes.

Both teams break and start heading out the door, only with the exception of the two team leaders.

Jaune: ... Whatever it takes huh? Can’t help but feel like you were directing that at someone in particular.

Ruby: (Directs her attention towards him) I was saying that to everyone. But maybe I needed to say it loud enough for someone in particular to notice.

Jaune: (Chuckles) Guess that makes two of us.

A silence emits from both of them.

Jaune: Well guess we should go meet them.

He moves to head out the door, but gets stopped by a hand on his chest plate. Jaune looks down and looks at the owner of his roadblock.

Ruby: I never got to say what I needed to say.

Jaune: ... (Mods for her to continue)

Ruby: (Deep breath) I wanted say thank you for always being here. I know I don’t need to say it, but I want to. You have been with me these past two years and we’ve both been through trial after trial together, when you easily didn’t need to. I’ve seen you at your lowest and at your best, and I’ve seen how much you’ve grown.

Ruby: (Exhales) What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want this to be the only memories I have of you. I want to see you become exactly like the huntsman of your dreams and I want to see you grow in the years to come. (Starts to tremble) And I want to be there to see it too. Even if the situation we are currently may imply not all of us are going to make it tonight, I still want to hold onto that dream where we’re both greatest hunter and huntress and we make it past the dark days and that we-

Jaune cuts her off to bring her into a hug. After a little bit she wraps her arms to his shoulders.

Jaune: You’ve been holding that in for awhile haven’t you?

Ruby: (Nods into his chest)

Jaune: I don’t envy the burden you carry, but just remember one thing. (He gently nudged her chin to look up at him) You don’t need to carry it alone. I’m still your co-team leader so if things ever get too much, you can talk to me. Trust me, like I trust you.

Ruby: (Stays silent for a moment before nodding) I will. Sorry, I guess I’ve been acting as a leader for so long I’ve kind of forgotten that I have another leader who I can confide to.

Jaune: (Smirks) That’s what I’m here for Crater-Face.

Ruby: (Smiles) But just so you know that goes two ways, Vomit-Boy.

Jaune: (Changes smirk to a genuine smile) Whatever you say.

A silence is left in the room between the two leaders and friends. Momentarily forgetting they haven’t let go of each other. That is until something broke up their tranquil moment.

Nora: Oh my Gods! Are you two gonna kiss already! The suspense is killing me!

The two immediately break apart and look at the source of the interruption, who was none other than the pink bomber. And she wasn’t alone.

Weiss: Dolts the both both of you, we have a literal crisis at our doorstep and here you two are acting like Jake and Rosie from Titanica. (She tries very hard to sound annoyed but fails to hide her smirk)

Both leaders blush up a storm at the former heiress’s reference to an age old romance/drama movie. They quickly try to diffuse the situation.

Ruby/Jaune: U-um well you see, he/she was feeling under the weather so I tried to encourage him/her. Wait what! I was encouraging you not the other way around, stop repeating after me. I’m not repeating, your repeating! Aaaaah!

Nora/Weiss: (Smiles at the sure density of both leaders, before they start laughing)

Ruby: (Pulls up her hood to hide her blushing) L-Look Weiss is right we need to head out soon. Can’t waste any time on preparation.

Jaune: (Looks up in opposite direction to avoid eye contact from the red reaper) Y-yeah, we should all get going.

Neither of the two move an inch for a moment then both make their way to the door and bump each other on the way.

Ruby/Jaune: S-sorry!

Without another word both starts making their way towards the others.

Weiss: (Sighs) Honestly I don’t see why they try to hide what they obviously feel towards each other. It’s almost like they’re deliberately trying to avoid the subject of confessing when it’s obvious for others to see.

Nora: I think they’re just afraid that being more than friends will be the end of their friendship, but they obviously don’t have much experience in dating life to know that isn’t true. At least most of the time.

Weiss: Ah so like Ren and you for the the longest.

Nora: (Blushes In embarrassment) You have been hanging out with Yang far too long.

Both teammates make their way to towards their leaders anticipating the battle ahead of them.

- End of Chapter 3 -

////////////////////////////////////////

- Bonus Clip -

On the disguised airship supplied by Neo’s Semblance, both Cinder and her make their way to the kingdom of Atlas.

Neo: (Has a very concentrated face and focuses to keep the ship hidden)

Cinder: I must say you have really outdone yourself with this new trick of yours. We’ve been traveling across the Atlesian border for an hour now and no one has flagged our ship so far.

Neo: (Holds one hand up to stop Cinder’s praise, motioning she needs total concentration)

Cinder: Ah yes, of course, I’ve seem to forgat that little bit of this new skill of yours. But only for a little while longer, once we’re inside of Mantle we can begin the next step in our plan for revenge.

The two continue to fly through the landscape and make it past what should have been the first check point for Atlas’s military to check incoming airship. However, after what was five minutes no one had attempted to hail their ship. This fact, makes Cinder confused.

Cinder: Something is not right.

Neo: (Taking a glance at Cinder, she gives a questioning look)

Cinder: It’s quiet, and we haven’t had anyone attempt to hail this ship for identification.

Neo: (Gives Cinder a more questionable expression)

Cinder: What I mean is when have you ever heard of someone making it across Atlas’s order without interruption?

Another five minutes pass before Cinder looks towards Neo again.

Cinder: Drop the illusion.

Neo: (Now looks at Cinder like she’s crazy)

Cinder: Just do as I say and drop the illusion.

Neo: (Hesitant but ultimately drops the illusion around their ship)

After waiting for a short while, both start to become concerned.

Cinder: ... (Sets the ship to auto pilot) I’m going outside.

Cinder makes her way out of helm of the ship and makes her way towards outside on the deck. What she sees honestly shocks her. Numerous of Atlas’s defense systems are destroyed and judging from all the scorching and smoke something large had attacked this place long before they’d arrived. Neo comes joins Cinder to see what’s all the commotion about, once seeing all the destruction she gains a surprised and horrified expression.

Cinder: It appears that our plan may have become more complicated.

- End of Bonus Clip -

#rwby volume 7 #rwby lancaster #team rwby #team jnpr #cinder fall #neo politan #villains #jaune is salem's descendant theory #rwby ancestries

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isa-ghost · 6 years ago

Text

Achievements Unlocked?

The last decade has COMPLETELY shaped who I am now and the fact that it ends today and essentially sends me off into the next one where turning 30 is the end is something I can’t wrap my head around and not just bc it’s barely 9am as I’m writing it. Ten years hasn’t felt like ten years and all the shit that’s happened during those ten years feels like it’s happened in the last like,,, 3.

Basically this is just me going How The Fuck Did All Of This Happen In A Decade and highlighting the big things that shaped who I am now.

Uhhh this is long I’m gonna-

2010/2011 (Shit’s A Blur):

I started noticing aesthetic interests I had.

I developed my love for the outdoors and exploration.

I started realizing vaguely spooky things were really intriguing to me.

I got SUPER into Harry Potter.

Which lead to me creating my first two Ocs.

I started switching from drawing animals/landscapes to drawing people.

I made my first cluster of friends I hoped I’d have forever. (Spoiler alert: only still have one of em).

2012:

I started identifying with punk rock & emo culture/aesthetics.

I made my first cluster of online friends (Spoiler alert: don’t talk to any of em now)

I got into YouTubers.

I got into anime.

I made my first “blog.” It was a Facebook page for a fictional character.

I discovered my favorite band.

I made my first online friend I hoped I’d have forever (still have em so far!)

I met my future wife.

I started roleplaying with Ocs.

Which lead to making more.

I started drawing digitally using bases. Which started my improvement.

I made my own first little community via my FB page.

Which lead to an rp group of more friends I hoped I’d have forever (still got a handful of em!)

I discovered my other favorite bands.

I started using Skype.

I got into more anime.

My parents were officially fully separated.

Which began the very start of realizing my dad was verbally abusive.

Congrats Isa, You Need Glasses You Dumb Fuck. Hooray astigmatism.

I graduated 8th grade.

2013:

I was essentially forced to move in with my dad for high school.

I started high school.

Officially became total anime trash and started watching them like crazy.

I THINK I hit 100 Ocs at some point this year. Just kept makin them from here.

Met my first cluster of irl forever friends (spoiler alert: only have 1 now).

Learned having Ocs was Not Just An Isa Thing, Holy Shit I Thought I Was Just Weird.

Promptly fell in love with learning about other people’s Ocs.

Realized Wow, I Kinda Can’t Stand My Dad And I Don’t Trust Him.

Had my first boyfriend. *gag* He was nasty.

Experienced my first long distance relationship. It lasted 3 days.

2014/2015 (Shit’s Also Blurry):

Got another long distance boyfriend. First relationship I genuinely liked the person.

I realized talking multiple people through the lowest points of their lives and keeping them from harming themselves was a sign I should maybe get into psychology and do that as a job.

I started getting interested in researching mental disorders.

Realized Okay Yeah, I Lowkey Hate My Dad

Realized I had A Concerning Amount Of Symptoms Of Depression. Fuck.

Realized Huh, Girls Are Pretty Too,,,

My friend taught me about bi and pansexuality. Casually started identifying as pan. Didn’t know shit about LGBT+ stuff.

Was shown a video by my friend. Decided Wow I Really Like This Screaming Potato Guy.

Acquired one more forever friend I still have.

Got slapped in the face by Gravity Falls.

My mom moved out of the rural town I just spent the last like 8 Years Of My Own Character Development In, Dammit

I realized money and finances Fucking Sucks.

Had the,, probably worst year of my adolescence. Angry, depressed, sick of my dad. It was Not Great. Almost started self-harming, only didn’t because I’d be a hypocrite if I did after helping my friends stop doing it.

Homestuck invaded my life around here I think.

Decided I’m Gonna Live With My Online Friends One Day! (spoiler alert: nope).

Was kinda forced by my dad to move out of the apartment I lived in and therefore forced to transfer schools.

Got to meet my future wife irl for the first time. Wow that was,, so gay before we even realized.

Okay Hold On, This New School Is,,, Really Nice.

2016:

New school. New me. New friends. New everything. Fuckity shit fuck.

Okay wait they have an anime club like my other school did we good.

Met another two forever friends that I think really are forever friends now.

Angry Shitty Depression Time Died Down A Little.

Somehow learned about evilsonas. Huh, Does Jack Have One? ... Ok Cool, They’re All People’s Ocs. Meh.

Started learning how to drive. Oh My God This Is Fun.

Lost my second ever pet and was... very confused when I wasn’t as traumatized as I was the first time I lost a pet.

Boyfriend kinda Thanos snapped from existence bc his irl life was hectic.

Experienced what it’s like to have a friend that died.

Wow my irl best friend is hot. ... Okay I Think Boyfriend’s Absence Is Bothering Me. *proceeds to ignore that*

Gets into some more bands.

Knock Knock, You Have Separation Anxiety, Isa.

Finally decided to try out high school things like homecoming. Ooh That Was Actually Fun.

The beginning of the worst end to a friendship I’ve ever had starts. Not Handling It Well.

Discovered Fooster. Cue hyperfixation on new favorite YouTuber and more new friends.

Wait What The Fuck What Just Happened To Jack’s Camera,,,, OH MY GOD HE ISN’T-

HE IS. OH FUCK HE IS. MMMMHELLO KNIFE MAN.

Totally forgets he exists for the next like 10 months.

Realization I Really Fucking Love Halloween.

Discovered what asexuality is and immediately identifies because I thought I was just weird.

Hmm maybe I should start watching this Markiplier guy

Big Sad Times, My Friends Graduated. Next Year Gonna SUCK.

Tried out Dungeons & Dragons. Fuckin loved it.

2017:

Ah fuck I’m a senior in high school this is gonna be a trip.

Discovered I like photography.

Literally where did this school year go it’s so blurry.

Was convinced to end the relationship with boyfriend. He’s still a good bean.

Hey uhhhh online best friend do u big gay.

WE big gay.

Found a book I really like that isn’t Harry Potter, damn it’s about time.

Ok But This Book Really Fucked Me Up, I Love It.

OH FUCK WAIT I’M GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL.

Oh that wasn’t so bad.

Actually had to be PUSHED by my friends to have my first kiss with my girlfriend at my graduation party because I was too busy going [dkasjdjf] about having her physically in my presence at all.

First super memorable vacation. Wow I Fucking Love Traveling.

Got to meet another online friend!! I am,, incredibly lucky about being able to do that, this was like the 4th friend I got to meet.

[That one motion blur conspiracy theorist meme] SABRINA IM TELLING U JACK IS UP TO SOMETHING HIS TWITTER IS FUCKY

Gets punched in the throat with Kill Jacksepticeye on the way home from vacation and remembers how much I fucking love Anti

TIME FOR COLLEGE. I made a mistake.

TIME FOR COMMUNITY COLLEGE. Much Better.

Friend I Still Have From High School 1/2 introduced me to Bendy and the Ink Machine. HYPERFIXATION TIME BABEY.

Let’s,,, lets try Tumblr. Jack exists there a lot. And so does good art of everything I’m interested in.

Wait Who’s This Baby With The Mustache, JACK EXPLAIN

Okay there’s More Going On Here, lets get active in the community.

WHY THE FUCK IS THERE SECURITY FOOTAGE. THIS IS SKETCH. THIS ISOH MOTHERFUCKER ITS ANTI

Isa: Become Theorist

The rest is history, really, all stuff I’ve posted about on here. xD

And knowing me I’ve left out other highlighted bits but remembering all of this is,,, really exhausting lmao, I’m surprised I jotted down as much as I did in Relatively Chronological Order.

#happy 2020 new year

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dcanslist · 6 years ago

Note

Can you write something inspired by the 1975 song sex

lenadidn’t know what heartbreak was until she experienced one herself.

lenafirst met kara when they were barely teenagers. two adolescents who shared alove for science were bound to form a particular bond that no other peoplewithin their class were meant to have.

theydid everything together as soon as they realized that they shared more thanjust a fascination for chemicals and possible time travels. they shared theirfood, their answers in homework ( though it’s mostly to verify that they’recorrect, and they always were ), their happy times and sad times –

mostespecially, they shared each other’s first kiss.

it’snothing romantic.

forlena, it was just so she could get it over and done with. her classmates alwaysraved about first kisses and first dates and first… times, but she didn’t havetime for that. the only first she wanted was first place in the honor roll, and so, one night, she acquired the helpof her best friend to get rid of such unnecessary problem in her life.

“kissme,” she said one night, and very nearly took it back when kara began turninginto a human firetruck pretty quickly, a sharp contrast to her room’s idle,black and white theme.

“u-um,I don’t know-”

“don’tworry,” she said while adjusting on her bed, trying to be as reassuring as shecould possibly sound. “it’s not because I like you or anything. I just reallywant to get rid of my first kiss. I know you’re busy with school too, so let’sjust tick off our first kiss and focus on academics.”

anda part of her would always feel bad for taking away what could have possiblybeen a magical moment for kara. because kara was a romantic, and this she knewvery well. she was always the one who’d suggest watching Disney movies, oranything that had to do with happily ever after’s, while lena would suggestdocumentaries or horror movies. she would always wonder about butterflies instomachs and zero gravity when kissing someone she genuinely loved.

butlena took that away from her, and at such a young age, when she knew nothingbut straight A’s and honor rolls with her best friend by her side, she reallycouldn’t care any less.

karadidn’t seem to resent her for that, if their stronger friendship was anythingto go by.

seniorhigh school came around and they’re still best friends. lena was still the onewho had kara after school. they still shared food and answers and beautiful orupsetting moments – because that’s what best friends do.

untilone person came into the picture, and suddenly, those things weren’t what thispair of best friends did.

karamet mike at a school play. mike was one of those high school celebrities,famous for his acting and singing, and though lena loathed to admit it, he wasactually good at what he did.

so,it was no surprise when kara began falling for him and his floating notes.

itwas no surprise when kara began preferring his musical numbers over lena’s monotonousscientific methods and mathematical operations. it was no surprise when kara,at eighteen, somehow began dancing to songs as if she’d been born a dancer,even when she’s not. it was no surprise when lena found herself going homealone, because kara’s staying late in school to watch mike rehearse with hisfriends.

itwas no surprise when, one morning, kara skipped her way toward lena’s lockerand smothered her with her warmembrace while informing her that mike asked her to be her girlfriend yesterdayand she said yes.

karasaid yes, and she’s excited to tell her best friend about her first boyfriend,while her best friend thought she was going to throw up.

still,she was no one if not a luthor, so her lips parted to show her delighted grinand congratulated her best friend for achieving another milestone in life.

and after your firstboyfriend, you’re going to have your first date, your first touch, your firstembrace with your first boyfriend, your first sex—

lenadidn’t want to think about other first time’s.

sheonly cared about being first place in class.

so,they got over high school and somehow, they’re in college and they’re takingover their respective programs like storms.

lena,more than kara, because one night, during sophomore year, lena found out thatkara and mike broke up for some unknown reason.

well,considering the fact that mike was, as expected, ncu’s current best theaterstudent and kara was the engineering department’s darling genius, the entireuniversity knew why they broke up.

mikegot carried away during one of his scenes and kissed his leading lady a littletoo much. the theater geeks comforted kara and said it’s normal to get carriedaway, but it was a hard pill to swallow for kara, because she’d seen mike act before, and what she witnessed hadn’tbeen acting.

itwas so much more. it had been imra ardeen, and kara knew it’d been more thanjust acting.

butthis, lena didn’t know, because she didn’t care.

shejust cared about coming out as first in class.

it’sbeen two months since kara and mike broke up.

karaand lena were back to bonding as often as they did as teenagers, if not more.especially since lena somehow managed to get her hands on a 1962 Volkswagen kombiturned brand new by a friend, whose program involved cars and all that jazz. itdidn’t seem like the type of car she’d like to have, yes, she’d admit that, but…well, kara had her hippie flare every now and then, and experiencing a Kombiwas one of the things she wanted to do before dying.

andlena, well, she was kara’s best friend in the entire world. of course, she’dget her a goddamn kombi.

“thisis so cool,” kara said in awe (again) as she tucked herself under hercomforter, feet sticking out the minibus’ backdoor while staring up at thestarry sky. “I didn’t know this car was a convertible.”

no,it wasn’t. when lena bought it, it was a typical minibus, with boring seats anda boring, permanent roof, but asmentioned before, lena knew someone, and somehow the boring minibus turned intoa minihouse with a sliding roof.

“mhm,”lena hummed softly. “lucky buy. all i had to do was polish it, really.”

karalaughed softly, and lena wasn’t sure if it’s because she was thinking of howlucky she was to be in a Volkswagen kombi or if it’s because she didn’t believelena.

lenachose not to wonder too much.

itwas later at midnight when kara stirred and scooted closer to lena’s side ofthe car.

“lena,”kara called out softly, and lena responded with a soft, inquisitive hum.

“what?”

“doyou remember our first kiss?”

ofcourse, lena remembered her first kiss. it was dull, it was lips touching lips,it was kara frozen against her, it was her toes feeling… things, but it wasjust a kiss.

andit was her only kiss, so yeah, she remembered.

“why?”

abeat, and then, “I don’t remember it.”

oh.

ofcourse, kara wouldn’t remember her first kiss. it was dull, it was lipstouching lips, it was kara uncomfortable—

“I want to remember.”

what.

lenawas dumbfounded, and all she did was stare at kara as though she’d grown asecond head, but kara was nothing if not determined.

beforelena could bring up the only possible reason why kara would suddenly be bringing up their kiss, kara was already on her, her weight and warmth familiarand unfamiliar at the same time. and she’s looking down at lena as if she wasseeing her for the first time, eyes slowly lowering down to where lena’s lipswere parted because she couldn’t remember how to breathe normally through hernose.

“kara-”

“Iwant to remember, lena.”

andlena wanted to protest because it’s not right. it’s not healthy. kara wasobviously still recovering from her first heartbreak, but she was too late toremind the blonde about that because a pair of soft lips have claimed hers andher second kiss.

hereyes fluttered closed as her heart hammered against her chest. she didn’t knowwhat to do with her hands – does shereach out and cup kara’s cheeks? does she wrap her arms around her neck? – andshe didn’t know how to start responding to kara’s demanding kiss.

thiswas her second kiss, and she didn’t know what to do. thankfully, kara seemed tosense this, so she broke away from lena’s lips with a soft sound. her eyes thatheld the ocean were hidden behind her eyelids as she breathed heavily as iftrying to catch more air than she needed.

“kara…”lena whispered softly, her hands finally moving up to caress the blonde’s cheekgently. “what’s wrong?”

“Iwant to forget.”

andit was the most confusing answer lena had ever gotten in her life. because onemoment, kara wanted to remember, and now she wanted to forget.

“whatdo you mean, kara?” she sighed. “talk to me.”

“Iwant to forget the pain,” kara murmured, and then slowly, as she opened hereyes to meet lena’s, she continued, “but I want to remember how it feels liketo be okay.”

therewere so many things wrong with what kara wanted, lena knew this much, but kara’seyes were starting to pool with tears, her adorable nose was reddening, and…she was leaning down again to capture lena’s lips with hers, and lena decidedto ignore the protest in her lips.

thatnight started many firsts’ in lena’slife.

afterrelenting to kara’s kisses, lena experienced her first make out.

and her first (of the many) orgasm.

when lena’s arms nervouslysnaked around kara’s neck in the midst of their kiss, she suddenly foundherself being flipped over. breaking away from the kiss with a gasp, sherealized she was on top of her best friend, who seemed very far from botheredby her weight.

“kara, I could be squishingyou-” she said as lifted herself off of kara, but the blonde held onto her armsand sat up.

“no,” kara shook her head,moving her hands down to lena’s waist. “I like it. I like feeling you on top ofme.”

and lena should be askingwhere all of these were coming from – why kara seemed so eager to have lena,when only two days ago, lena was comforting kara from yet another tissue-wastingmarathon.

but she was deprived ofcoherent thoughts when she felt kara’s hand on the back of her head, fingersthreading through thick, silky hair. her eyes were earnest, locking on lena’seven as she pressed her forehead against the brunette.

“can I kiss you again?”

and despite all lingeringprotests in her mind, lena felt herself nodding, and it was all the permissionkara needed to claim her lips once more.

it started slowly, as ifkara was scared of making lena pull away again by being too eager, but when lenashowed no signs of doing so, kara began kissing her with more urgency. herfingers, which were still buried in lena’s hair, curled into a fist and lenaresponded with a soft gasp, making her lips part, and kara took thatopportunity to introduce her tongue with a soft flick of it against lena’slower lip.

it was then that lena felt that feeling again in her toes,spreading all her over feet that made them curl, and then up her legs andthighs and —curiously – stopping between her legs.

it was a feeling bothwelcomed, and not.

it was a feeling that lenafound herself chasing after by initiating the kiss for the first time,effectively taking kara’s breath away, and lena felt her lips curl into a smugsmirk because – she did that.

she made kara’s breathhitch. even as she cluelessly kissed and licked and nipped on kara’s lips, shecould feel kara’s eager response in the way her hands found her hips again andsqueezed, sending yet another delicious pressure between her thighs. she triedsqueezing her thighs together, unsure whether it would give her relief yetsomehow knowing that it would, butkara gave her hips another squeeze and urged her to relax.

“move your body against me,”she whispered, lips brushing against lena’s as she began guiding lena’s body. “itwill help.”

and lena was stiff. she didn’texactly know how to move againstsomeone’s body, but kara was patient and willing to teach.

soon enough, lena was pressingdown hard against kara’s stomach with every roll of her hips, gasping softlyevery time she’d pass over the buckle of kara’s belt.

and then, she was soaringand falling at the same time, as kara swallowed her moans in their kiss.

karaand lena made out at the back of lena’s minibus for a grand total of fivetimes, on different days, before lena heard the news that kara and mike wereback together.

of course, what lena felt was more ofcuriosity and disbelief than… anything else.

so, she dragged kara into the women’sbathroom one day and confronted her about it.

“you’re back with mike?”

kara had the grace to look ashamed. “yes-”

“when?” lena demanded.

“… yesterday.”

“and I’m only hearing about this today,why?” lena huffed, her anger already flaring inside her chest. “you were licking my neck yesterday night, kara.you are many things, but you are nota cheater.”

kara flinched at the word, and all lenawanted to do was pull her in her arms and hug her and squeeze her pain away,but it was so fucked up of kara to make her the other woman, even when she wasn’t kara’s woman in the first place.

“I know…” kara shook her head, tongueswiping across drying lips. “I’m sorry. I just…” she glanced up at lena,looking so helpless while pressed up against one corner, appearing so smallcompared to the shorter woman for the first time.

“you just what, kara?” lena asked,frustrated.

“I just can’t stop, okay?” kara reached upand raked her fingers through her hair, ruining her perfect ponytail. “I just…can’t. I— he reached out to me and apologized and… he said he’s not going to doit again, and I’m happy, you know? I’m happy that he’s eager for a secondchance and… and it’s all I’ve been hoping for since we broke up…”

“then, you shouldn’t have kissed me lastnight. kara, you do realize that what you did was no different to what mike didyou to you?” lena huffed, placing her hands on her hips as she paced back andforth inside the bathroom. and then, as if realizing something, she stopped andturned to kara with a frown, “you’re not… using me as revenge, are you? becausethat is so fucked up, kara-”

“lena, no!” as if finally finding herstrength, kara pushed away from the wall and stalked towards lena, making thelatter walk backwards until she’s the one who’s pressed up against the sink,barely stifling a gasp at the slight zip of pain on the small of her backbecause of the impact. kara’s hands slammed on the granite counter, trappinglena between them. “I would never do that to you, do you understand? i- i admitthat what I did was wrong but…” she trailed off, jaws clenching and thenrelaxing as her gaze found lena’s lips. “i… I couldn’t… I don’t want to stopkissing you…”

“kara…”

“I don’t want to stop kissing you. it’sthe only time I feel like I’m trulyhappy.”

and god, lena knew it was wrong and it didn’t make sense that kara was happy to have mike back, yet felt genuine happiness when kissing her best friend, but shewas helpless when kara nudged her knees apart with her knees and wedged herselfbetween lena’s thighs.

she was helpless when kara claimed herlips in a searing kiss, when nimble fingers undid the button and fly of herpants and slid into the tight confines of her underwear.

when she felt warm fingers against sleekheat, she whimpered softly and arched her back, momentarily trapping kara’sfingers between herself and the sink.

“k-kara…”

kara hushed her as she pulled her fingersfrom where they’re kept from moving, only to slide them over lena’s clit againwhen the latter moved just enough to give her space.

“I’ll take care of you,” kara cooed as shepressed gently against lena, biting her lip at the abundant wetness rapidlycoating her fingers, and still couldn’t believe that she was the one makinglena feel such exquisite sensation, the one who’s causing that look on lena’s face – parted lips, head thrown back, and eyestightly shut – and the sounds. thesounds lena was making, breathy moans and little whimpers and soft gasps forevery time she’d give just enough pressure, for every time she’d speed up, asif finally letting lena reach thathigh, only to slow down again so she could hear that familiar whine spillingfrom lena’s lips, her soft, little pleas for release.

kara didn’t know if she could ever letthis go.

and so their clandestine arrangementcontinued over the years.

just as kara and mike’s relationship prospered over the years.

“fuck!”

lena pantedbreathlessly into the bed, her fingers clutching tightly onto the comforter asher body was wracked by overwhelming bliss.

over theyears, kara had developed more than just her intellectual strength. she found alove for physical activities – rock climbing, cycling, swimming, or justworking out at the gym – and showed great growth in physical strength andstamina, and it manifested in her relentless thrusts behind lena, how her hipstirelessly fucked lena into the mattress.

and god, itwas all that she hoped for when she found itonline and imagined how kara would look like wearing it.

how kara would feel like inside her, urgentlydriving into her as she buried her face into the crook of lena’s neck andbreathed roughly into her sensitive skin.

and now,kara’s weight was deliciously pressing her down onto her bed as her hipsslammed against her ass, moving in deliberate circles, which caused the toyinside her to shift and rub against places only kara knew how to reach and feelwithout actually being there.

she sobbedher pleasure into the palm of her hand as she felt the beginnings of herpending orgasm, her walls clenching around the shaft as she tried to moveagainst kara as much as she could, but she was pinned down by the blonde andmade to keep still with another deep, long thrust, effectively taking herbreath away as kara’s fingers found her aching clit in the midst of hergrinding.

it was allit took for lena to beg for kara to make her come, and it was all it took forkara to oblige.

they’re five years into their thirtiethyear of living when they last talked about how wrong it was to keep on doing what they were doingbehind mike’s back.

it was the same night when mike invitedthem all to a newly opened jazz bar in new york to celebrate his birthday andthe opening night of his new broadway show. lena had full the mind of not showing up, but kara had begged (and let hertie her up and fuck her this time around), so naturally, lena went and decidedto tolerate mike and the nagging voice at the back of her head, saying that shewas a good for nothing bitch who couldn’t say no to her best friend.

she was nursing her fifth glass of scotch(she wasn’t sure how she’s still sitting up straight) when she heard the commotionbehind her back, and for everything she did wrong since that night she firstallowed kara to kiss her in that old minibus, turning around would be hergreatest regret that night would beher greatest regret.

mike was on one knee, holding a small boxcontaining what was obviously an expensive ring, and kara…

kara looked like he was offering her theworld. there was a twinkle in her eyes that had never been directed to lena.there was a delight in her smile and laughter when she screamed yes and pulledmike up to kiss him in front of everyone in the bar.

lena fleetingly registered someone leavingher side – one of kara’s friends; sam, was it? – but she could never be sure,for all she felt was the tightening of her chest and the overwhelming need to find a place where she couldcurl up and cry for hours on ends.

because kara was going to get married tomike, and there was no way she’d let kara continue what they were doing because…she wasn’t a homewrecker.

no, no, she wasn’t.

“hey,” a voice interrupted her thoughts,and she was internally grateful because it stalled the tears from dropping fromher eyes. “seems like your friend left you behind.”

it was the bartender, and she’s wearing anopen smile. she’s probably referring to sam, the brunette – a friend of kara –but lena couldn’t help but shake her head bitterly and down her scotch in onego.

“she’s got a boyfriend, anyway.”

#supercorp #hOLY CRAP THIS WAS LONG OVERDUE #but yAY IT'S HERE!#i hope you enjoy it #'read more' bc... uh ns**fw-ish #Anonymous #might post this on ao3 too but i have to think of a title first kamdasd

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