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voidwritesstuff · 16 days ago

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The Cultures that make us (Argentina)

Cw: mentions of food, guns and flashing lights on the GIF.

Summary: The horsemen experiencing the culture of their human companion. (Can be read as romantic).

A/n: Alright peeps strap in for the culture train!. Brought to you by your dear host and their lovely country! (I'll make more for other cultures, If you want yours just shoot me an ask. I will send a DM to weed out incorrect information or to ask for clarification! I want everything to be accurate!)

A/n2: Lyrics translated at the end.

Humans and their cultures,there were so Many. Uncountable for other beings and mortals themselves,but amongst the things they shared was a love and passion for food.

Recipies passed from generation to generation. Keeping the traditions And cultures alive by making sure everyone knew how to make a snack or a meal. It was a bonding experience between families or Friends or lovers. Only humans understood the importance of food.

Ceatures who need not of sustenance,didnt get the uniqueness And importance.

The Horsemen rarely paid attention,seeing food as an indulgence rather than a need.

Until they picked up a human along their trek.

Death:

He got the sweet toothed human,because of course his luck is rotten.

This human had a love,or an obssesion,with sugar and treats of the sort. The horseman had figured it was a need,as he understood sugar was one of the components that gave humans energy,so at first he didnt think too much of It. He saw this human like a little puppy who couldnt keep up with the relentlessness of a nephilim.

--Its not that I'm living off of sugar. -- the human had told him as they made a dough. It smells citrus-like and a little sweet. They are Rolling it against a hard,metal table sized for a mortal.

To the horseman's chagrin,the Makers had taken a love for human food so now they had created a human sized home for they to stay when the reaper came visiting.

--Certainly seems like it-- The pale rider answered,watching from the corner of the room. He seems unbothered but hes curious. He always is.

--Sugar doesnt give everything us humans need. We have an elaborate diet-- the mortal explained,cutting the dough up into smaller balls and going to flatten them with a wooden roll of wood.

Their cooking was not that affected because of the ingredints. It took time to make it taste fully human-made but their kind was exhasperatingly perseverent.

--Your species is needlessly complicated.

--Said the half Angel half demon dude-- They quipped,not looking away as they Grab a Knife and cut the flattened dough into strips.

Death doesnt answer and rolls his eyes,his bone mask moving with his expression like its made of calcified flesh. He watches intently as the human folded the stripes in the shape of this ribbon,the Lower ends of the stripe meet at the center,Forming an arch of sorts.

They do this a few times, and as they do they begin to sing under their breath. Its not the first time they've done this infront of him but its always an interesting thing to witness. Hes yet to understand the language they speak,the council never bothered to give him the abilities of a polyglot.

And his human companion always joked how funny it was he spoke english. He never understood exactly what this "English" is.

--Tal vez

de tanto usar el gris

te ciegues con el sol...

¡pero eso tiene fin!

¡Después verás todo el color,

amor, quedémonos aquí!-- the human sang. It was for themself, and they had left it clear that the reaper would just have to put up with it. They wouldnt allow yet another creature to take away their culture.

--¡Amor, asómate a la flor

y entiende la verdad que llaman corazón!

¡Deja el pasado acobardado en el fangal

que aquí podemos comenzar!

He wondered what the song is about. The sounds of the human's language are so foreign.

The way they breath in their sounds with the letter S,giving words the look of having an H between syllables.

The soft sh sounds when words had a Y or a double L at the start.

Its a beautiful,sing-songy accent. The few times hes heard them speak their mother tongue,it felt like there was a slight dancing in the sounds like they were singing the words rather than speaking.

Deep down he feels sad he doesnt understand how human languages work,he'd Like to know what makes the accent so unique.

The reaper's thoughts are cut when he hears the sizzling of oil. He watches as the human sets a batch of the dough ribbons in a pan with bubbling liquid. He then sees them pour some alcohol on it and his eyes quirk with Curiosity.

--Isnt this "Rubbing Alcohol" flammable?

--Yes,but it evaporates with the heat-- The human answered with a shrug-- Helps the Moñitos with turning out greasy because of the oil.

--The what?

The human rolled their eyes,knowing the reaper hadnt paid attention when they began telling him about the snack a few hours prior.

--Thats the name of the snack,Moñitos. In english its called Little Bows.

He hummed with acknowledgement-- You humans make the oddest of concotions.

--We can give makers a run for their money-- The mortal half joked with a smirk.

Internally,Death raised a brow and amusement. He taps his pointer finger on his bicep as he watches them stirr the dough in the pan-- Perhaps. Dont let them hear it, they'll become even more insufferable.

--Hah! As if...-- The mortal then quieted,looking at the snacks slowly Cook in the pan-- I got this recipe from my mother,you know?

--You told me humans passes tradition through generations.

--Yeah,we do-- they scoffed fondly-- I remember the first time I tasted them they were sweet and lemony, and I always paid attention to the recipe. Im glad it stuck to my head.

The reaper nodded with acknowledgement and didnt say much else. He looks at the ground and simply waits for time to pass by.

Meanwhile, the human slowly begins to fish out each little bow that was cooked and ready to be eaten. They set it in a strainer and let it cool off.

Like that they eventually Cook the whole batch and once they are lukewarm they put them all in a bowl and throw a hefty dose of sugar on them.

Their reaper companion seems to return to the earth as they take off their apron and Grab the bowl walk out of their kitchen into the livingroom

--Death! Im all done. Do you feel like making tea?

He blinks at them for a second. Theyre so odd. They always asked about his feelings,if he felt up to doing something for them. Theyve never pushed,never prodded aside from natural Curiosity.

There was a tenderness he wasnt sure he deserved.

--You spent two hours making those things.-- He answered,returning to his feet-- I imagine that took a lot of energy from your...human body.

--It did,but I can make it if youre not up to it.

He shook his head slightly,a micromovement but perceptible-- You'll strain yourself and the makers Will be breathing down my neck. Go sit,Human.

They raised a brow-- Alright Mr.Grumpy. I do have a name you know?

--Dont call me that-- He bit-- And I'm well aware.

--Alright then,just checking. You rarely use it.

He didnt feel worthy of speaking their name.

--Its easier to just call you human.-- He replied.

--Right,sure-- They look so amused,he hates it-- Is it like not putting a name on a dog you dont plan to Keep just so you dont get attached?

Death rolled his eyes and dismisses them with his hand. They chuckle and leave for the comfy couch,he then goes to turn on the metal oven and put some water to boil.

The air smelled of citrus and sweetness mixed with the slight scent of oil. The naturey- Sticky smell hes grown used to. The kitchen always felt so dead when they werent around.

Hes seen them in it so Many times that it doesnt feel right when they arent there.

Apparently,humans used food and cooking as a way to bond. Hes done that with his siblings before,but he didnt expect to grow so close to another species.

It did take him by surprise,he didnt help out of respect. But spending time with them,simply being around and making conversation (which is "The human talks to Death and sometimes Death answers"), had managed to make him grow a Bond and an attachment.

What was that about avoiding putting a name to rescued dogs?.

The kettle sings its whistling tune and he makes two cups. He drank his by himself but he made it just to Keep the human company.

He comes into the livingroom with the two mugs and sets them on the coffee table with the bowl. They havent touched even a single one of those bowls.

--What were you waiting for?--He asked,a little concerned.

--You -- the human answered like it was obvious. Their voice is soft,gentle. A tenderness that he craved yet it felt like sandpaper.

--You shouldnt have bothered.

--Food tastes better when you share it-- They scoot closer and reach for one of the little bows. The set one on his Open palm-- you get the first bite I wont look.

He blinks at them like a deer in headlights-- You made them. You should-

They set their hand on his armored forearm-- No,you can have it. Let me know if I did a good job or not.

"You always do" came a voice from the deepest part of the riders conciousness.

--Youre stubborn-- He says instead.-- The sugar wont do anything for me.

--Its not about the energy it can give you,Its about indulging in flavor and sweetness.

He breathes out under his breath,they can see how his chest falls and how his eyes close for a second with defeat.

This is the third time theyve won an argument. Hes losing his sharp edges.

Death gestures for them to cover their face and they do. They even turn away from him and he lifts his mask up to swallow the whole thing in one bite. It wasnt particularly big for a being his size.

But the flavor does Keep up with his senses,he can taste the lemon and sugar,the dough's lightness thanks to the way it was cooked.

His companion had joked about how their secret ingredient was love. He only scoffed with disbelief at such cheesy piece of information.

Yet he gets it now. Its made with care,like a well sharpened blade, a well crafted amulet. Its about how much care and attention you pay whatever you made.

--Indeed,your kind has out-done the makers-- he answered,fixing his mask-- You learnt well. Turn around.

The human meets his firey gaze with the whole milky way in their eyes. Such wonder and joy. This is the first time hes agreed to eat what they made.

--Im so happy you like it!!--They screeched with a grin.

He doesnt answer but he does set the bowl on their lap and grabs one of the snacks,leaving it there in his grasp for them to Grab.

They dont doubt it and lunge for the doughy thing before taking a bite out of it. He sees their eyes fill with light and they have this big grin as they chewed.

Its endearing,he almost chuckles.

--The song you were singing--Death began,looking away as hes a little shy about asking-- What is it about? You humans always weave meaning into everything.

Was that an insult or a compliment? Who really knows when its the reaper saying it.

--Its about a man asking his partner to stay with him and forget the bitterness of the past-- They answered, grabbing the mug thats still a bit too big for them. Makers have yet to grasp human sizes and measurements-- Its called "Quedemonos aqui", Lets Stay Here, and it was made by two men called Homero Expósito and Hector Stamponi.

He grows quiet for a moment. And they continue.

--Its Tango,An Argentine genre of music-- they explained,taking a Long sip of their tea. Nobody made warm Drinks like the reaper-- And this song is a kind of Tango called Tango Lloron, a sad style kind of melancholic and sometimes tragic.

--Why sing such song? I believe you have had your fill of tragedy.

--Its good to just let things out sometimes,the good and the bad. I'd like to stay here until humanity rebuilds itself.

--All alone?

--No. Not alone-- the human meets the rider's gaze that looks uncertain of not....a little scared-- But death's a wandering spirit. So maybe it'll be the makers and me..

Death scoffed-- I dont trust them taking care of you...--their eyes widen as they hear him say their name. The Real, human name.

All they do,is set their head against their Sinewy bicep. Too much attention might make the Pale rider unconfortable, so they contain their excitement.

Hes aware of his slip up and sighs,letting them touch him. Perhaps hes growing blunt, soft. But perhaps those sweet treats and the human's company are compensation enough.

Fury:

Fury had never had a taste for cakes and sweetness. Caramels and fluffy treats were rare in her life.

The human she rescued planned on changing that.

Her human companion decided to make a very specific kind of cake,one they have refined the recipe of for months, And Fury was their body guard so they could Hoard the kitchen in the maker tree.

--So this is called a chocotorta...-- The human told her as they grabbed these chocolate cookies from this bowl with chocolate Milk. The treat seems softer now,a little soggy-- Its originally a treat made with a specific brand of cookies. It took me a few tries but ive managed to make it taste as close as I could.

--Why soak them in milk?

--Helps them be softer. Eat from one of the cookies in that tray-- They point at a metal baking sheet off to the side--Theyre crunchy but the cakes better when its soft.

Fury complies since shes bored and had little to do. Being a horsewoman was like being a deterrent for other humans trying to take up space in the kitchen. Nifty little fun fact.

The cookie tastes like raw chocolate, sweet and earthy. Its good.

--Ah,i see. -- she mused-- Shame this "Brand" doesnt exist anymore. Perhaps you'll replace it in humanity's rebirth.

Her mortal friend laughed-- it would be a little funny--They began to layer the cookies on this square container of metal with a thin paper cover to separate the food from the actual bowl.

Then,they layer this thick,light brown caramel ontop of it and then add more cookies. They do a few layers as they talk-- My cousin gave me the tip for softening up the cookies. But I learnt the recipe from a friend.

--What is that brown thing between the cookies?

--This is dulce the leche,or Milk caramel-- They answered-- Hand made! The best kind. -- they grab a spoon and give the rider a hefty scoop-- Taste it.

--Just like that?

--A lot of people I knew Ate it like that. Its a common occurance.

Fury sighs,wondering why she puts up with these situations. She feels a little silly,Like shes a kid stealing the first bite of the meal Death had cooked. Some old habits just never die.

She eats the caramel,and her eyes widen slightly. The sweetness mixed with the earthy,nut flavor is a bit of a surprise to her. It melts it her mouth and she kind of has to bite on it.

--It would be easier to swallow if I didnt make it that thick. I can make a lighter batch later.

--you humans are so clever-- She said between bites of the chewy caramel-- A maker would be jealous.

--Thats one hell of a compliment.

--A well earnt one-- She insisted-- Where did you learn the recipe?

--A close friend. Best I can put it is a family friend of sorts,the actual relationship is a bit more complicated. She made some Dulce de leche for a birthday cake she wanted to gift me.

Fury nodded-- Humans are the only species that gift eachother food,others would hoard it.

The human shrugged,setting down the caramel as they are done with it. They add the final layer of cookies and Grab the metal container. Its a bit heavy but nothing they couldnt manage.

--Cultures made cooking and making food a way to bond. Even you,keeping me company,is an off shoot of one. --They Gently set the bowl on her hands-- I need it to be cool. Can you use that hollow of yours?

Fury looked amused-- Will I get the credit for helping?

--Always.

She chuckled and reached for the Stasis Hollow. It starts as a prickle in her skin,a biting chill that slowly spreads across her hands to the thing shes holding.

Her hair turns that beautiful blue,Like deep ice. Just as cold and just as gorgeous.

--There. Should be enough-- She handed back the container.

--Cooli-o! Lemme just...-- the mortal uses the baking paper to pull out the cake and set it on a Plate. They cut two squares out of the treat and as they do they sing lowly,mindlessly.

Fury never grows tired of listening to them sing. Shes heard the language of so Many beings,shes always found them boring,but she cares for human speech. And the accent is so particular.

She listens Keenly as the Stasis Hollow is dismissed and that warm magenta returns with her usual body heat.

--Mamichula, por vos me hago bueno, me hago malo

Por vos pierdo, por vos gano, mami, en esa estamo'

Ojalá entendieras que sos la única y primera

Así que vengan lo' que quieran, lo' de afuera son de palo, mai-- this style of singing is odd. Her human companion is making sure to speak the words yet add a rythm to it.

--I havent heard you sing like that before.

A little flustered,they answer--Its not singing,its rapping. Im...okay at it.

--Huh...--the black rider hummed-- And what is that song?

--Solo por vos,Only for you,by this an urban singer called Trueno.

--Urban?

--Technically hip-hop...--The human stops anf sighs with exhaustion-- Tell you later.-- They offer a Plate with a fork-- eat,let me know what you think.

--Are you sure?

--Yeah,yeah,cmon-- they set the Plate in her hands and looks up at her expectantly.

Fury takes a portion out of the cake with the fork and eats it. The flavors of the chocolate and the caramel mix with the mildness of the milk soaked cookies. She humms and says-- Your work has paid off...

--Yay! Im super happy you like it!--They grinned--C'mon! Lets go share. Food always tastes better when you share it.

The horsewoman is dragged along with plates and cutlery,and the humans huddle together to eat the cake. Fury watches contently and eats her piece of the treat,obssessed with the sweet caramel.

In the morning,the rider's human companion would find their whole stash of Dulce De Leche gone and a very guilty looking she-horseman.

War:

You'd expect such a behemoth to have an apetite. But he doesnt really need to eat,hunger is a known feeling but mild and brief.

However,he soon realized he quite liked eating meat.

After beating the Destroyer,his loyal human companion took him back to Ulthane's lair for what they called a Barbaque. His human friend had insisted to make a meal.

War watched confused as they brought a Fire to life under a grid with all the food theyve gotten. --I could have just set Fire to that coal...-- he pointed out.

He sees his human companion turn a little sheepish-- Ah,right. Yeah...--They giggled,face a little red-- You can move the coal if you'd like

Carefully he lumbers over to the grill and he Gently begins to nudge the Burning coal under the grill. -- Why..are you doing this?--He asked.

--My culture likes to throw barbaques for celebrations, and well..this is something worth celebrating!--They gestured at the food with this grandiose flare-- I think you'd like it.

He nodded slowly,and watched them work away at the grill. They told him about how grilling was a more masculine thing,a Man's activity. After the rider pointed out how silly that is,his human friend laughed and agreed.

Its been a while since hes seen them smile and laugh like that. He can give them this moment of joy,as brief as it is.

Plus,already the food smells quite good.

As they get the food out ot the grill,they sing softly. A mindless activity had to be fought with some soft of fun.

--Nada como ir juntos a la par

Y caminos desandar

El honor no lo perdí

Es el héroe que hay en mí

Nada como ir juntos a la par

He understood why angels sang, it was all about praising the creator. But humans sang to tell their stories,to show their legacy and culture- And their voice,the way the words move and sound.

Its the first species hes found that have such thing as accents. And he liked theirs so much.

--What are you singing?--He asked as they sat on this picnic mat. They settle all the food,all the sauces they have made. He sees bell pepper and onion, celery and garlic.

There is so much to taste.

--Its a song from my culture. Its a love song.

--And what does it say?

He sees them think as they translate the words-- "nothing like going hand in hand,and trek the path,I didnt lose my honor, its the warrior that lives in me,nothing Like going hand in hand".

War Hummed pensively. Its a sweet song,he can get behind the lyrics. -- There is a lot of human culture i'm not aware of...its so intricate-- He gestures at the sauces-- what are the name of these...condiments?

The human tells him all about it, the kinds of meat they have,the condiments and the snacks. They've never imagined telling a Horseman Of The Apocalypse what fries were,but here they are.

Everything seems to slowly click,And with each bite of food his eyes widen and fill with joy just a little bit more.

--These condiments burn my mouth...-- He commented,not particularly put off.

--Thats kind of the idea.

--I..Like it..--His heart flutters as they grin.

--Oh! Thats great to hear!--they exclaimed-- Barbaques Like these,we call them Asados, were a way of celebrating! You'd invite Friends and family,it could also be an excuse to just get together.

He nodded-- No other species is so...tight knit.

--Youre part of the culture now!

--What?

Hes taken aback,genuienly. He can only watch them and forget about the chirping birds or the rushing water. The smell of dying smoke or the smell of wet sand.

The only thing in his mind is his human companion,who grabs something from their pocket and pin it to his cowl.

Its a pin of some sort with blue,white and yellow lace. His head tilts adorably and he feels quite confused. Its a flag of some kind,hes aware of that at least.

--Its the flag of Argentina. I made it myself.--The human explained-- Youre an honorary Argentine!

--I...dont even know your language.

They laughed and prodded his Plate closer-- Well I can teach you some now,you have nowhere else to be.

He smiled just a little,Like sun breaking through the clouds of a gloomy day andHis voice Carrying that hopeful warmth that came with peeking sunlight. --No,i do not..

Strife:

He was down to try anything and everything at least once. It guaranteed Him great and horrible experiences, self discovery and a shit ton of funny stories to tell.

As the spirit of eternal unrest,he wasnt lacking on the energy department.

But he does get bored.

A lot.

So he waits by the shadow of a tree,Death would reach him by the end of the afternoon and they'd leave their human companion with the makers for good measure.

Speaking of...

--Well you look awfully sad-- The human said,their hair a little bit of a mess and their eyes groggy. They Carry with them this maker-made thermos,a bag slung over their shoulder and some sort of gourd with a metal straw.

--You can thank my brother for that--He grumbled as his friend sat with him on the cool shade.

--Walking corpse, "Rattle me bones" one?

--That one.

The human chuckled,happy Strife indulges in their human culture and internet humor. They take a long,if not a little loud, slurp of the warm drink.

It catches the horseman's attention and turns to them. Hes seen them drink whatever that was before,he just never got around to ask.

--What are you drinking?

They got that beautiful little glint in their eyes,excitement and joy. -- Mate.

Yeah,the name didnt make things any clearer.

--Okay,and whats that?

--Right,right-- they pour water into the gourd they were holding. He sees these tightly packed herbs of light,yellowish grin. -- Its an Argentine drink,you can share it with Friends but only one person brews the drink. Try it.

He looks hesitant as he holds the gourd,its a bit small in his gloved hands. He looks and sounds like hes catching up with the world.

--You...want to share a straw with me? Saliva and all?

--you just drink out of it. Ive shared it with strangers just how different could it be? --They shrugged,fixing their hair as the summery breeze dances tentively across their skin.

--Well im no human.

--Except for that one time-

--That one time,yeah-- He agreed--It wont put you off? You can wipe it off-

--Strife please-- the human chided with an exhasperated look on their face.

--Okay,okay.-- he relented, his hand Is about to touch the metal straw and his friend lunges at him to stop him-- WOAH! Dont do that!

--Dont touch it!--They screeched-- It messes with the filtering of the water! Only the brewer can move it.

He sighed and nodded-- odd rules but I guess that makes sense...

--You have no grounds to call my culture odd, Mr.Horseman of the apocalypse!

Strife chuckled and nodded--Okay,fine,fair.-- He lifts his helmet a little and he drinks from the straw. He feels the warmth of the metal against his lips,and the taste of the drink rushes in.

Its strongly bitter,hits harder than a kick from Ruin. Deeply earthy,but a quite unpleseant as it settles on his tongue like heavy lead.

He spits it out and he soon finds his friend laughing a hyena's howl. --What kind of hellish drink is that!

--Give it here,ill add sugar you whimp-- They Grab the gourd and from their bag they Grab a pouch of sugar. They make a little hole around the straw and set the sugary powder there.

--Whimp?! -- He screeched,the taste lingering horribly-- Youre sick for drinking that fuckin' thing! S'too bitter!

--The horsemen of the apocalypse cant handle bitterness! Who knew.?--The human joked as the water got poured back into the gourd.

--You tell anyone about this and ill actually kill you.

--All bark, no bite-- They hand the gourd back to him-- Drink up.

Hesitantly,he tries again and this time its pleaseant. The sweetness tempers the bitter and he can taste the fresh,earthy flavor better. And the warmth of the water is a nice comfort in his exhasperation.

--See? This is way better,-- he handed back the round container.

--Mhm,mhm,whimp-- They kept teasing as he rolled his eyes fondly.

For the Next few hours,His human tells him about all the little habits and details this drink has. How in summer some would drink it with juice,or how it was common to see people from their culture Carry it everywhere.

Its a deeply social drink,Friends would sit around and catch up while sharing it. Or you could also make Friends with people by offering a Mate.

He always loved how humans were there for eachother, how they cared and Bonded with so Many little things.

The caffeine within the drink was also a nice plus.

As he enjoys his turn of drinking,he breathes in the fresh air and sees the greenery field move with the breeze. The skies are clear blue,and the sun shining bright.

Its peaceful,he so rarely gets to experience this softness. Soon though he hears another sound join the gentle choir of birds,a foreign language he doesnt know and that accent he recognized.

He doesnt turn to face his friend as they sing,but he does listen in quiet contemplation.

--Dice que soy lo mejor de su vida

Que quiere perderse conmigo to' el día

Que por mí apunta, tira y tira

Que ya no le importa cometer un delito por su niña -- the rythm is slow, but theres something about the way they sing the lyrics. This strong presence that goes well with the chill little rythm.

--Y aunque no caigas en la de nadie

Con una mirada puede enamorarte o es parte de su arte

Tiene juego prepara'o para loca dejarte

Sa-auh-ah, uh-uh-uh, uh, uh aunque parezca un ángel es, es, es, e'

He drinks from the straw and passes it over,crossing His arms over his chest.

--Nice song-- He says-- Whats the name?

--Wapo Traketero by Nicky Nicole-- They answered-- best I can translate the title is like...in very,very loose terms, is "Hot criminal"

--Hmm,sounds Like slang.

--It is.

Just as hes about to ask what the song talked about,Death began to approach. Despair's hooves click against the soil leaving a temporary path of dying Grass.

Strife sighs and stands up-- Duty calls, doll.

--Yeah,figures-- he helps them up and though they cant see it, they can hear the smile in his voice.

--Thank you for the drink,and the serenade, but I gotta go. Ill try t'bring ya somethin'

--Ohhh cool. Like a skull?

--Biggest one I can find. I promise-- he makes an X over his heart and they giggle. Thats his favorite sound.

He whistles and soon Mayehem emerges from the ether just as Death catches up with the pair. --The makers are not far behind they'll look after them.

Strife nodded and tipped his fake hat before leaving with his brother.

The human grins and picks up their stuff. They walk to Karn and Thane that wait patiently for them. And as they walk away,Karn looks at the drink and a little worried he asks.

--Doesnt that have caffeine,Lad?

--Uh,yeah?--They answered confused.--Why?

--Did ya share it with Strife?--Thane added.

--Yeah...?

The wizened maker warrior pursed his lips,scratching his brown colored beard-- Ya should thank the creator youre not Death right now.

It clicks then for the human,and their eyes widen like plates-- Oh,hes going to kill me.

Death hasnt dealt with this level of hyperactivity since Strife was a fledgeling nephilim. He sees his brother bounce around like a ball in a pinball machine,laughing maniacally as his guns ring the sound of a life's end.

Hes barely able to Keep up,And he wonders who gave him so much caffeine to begin with.

When he realizes who it was,he Will kill them. But for that he needs to make sure his dumbass brother doesnt kill them both first.

And thats going to take a while.

Lyrics Translation:

Death:

Tal vez//de tanto usar el gris//te ciegues con el sol...//¡pero eso tiene fin!//¡Después verás todo el color,//amor, quedémonos aquí!//¡Amor, asómate a la flor//y entiende la verdad que llaman corazón!//¡Deja el pasado acobardado en el fangal//que aquí podemos comenzar!" "Maybe//after using so much grey//You may turn blind at the sun//But that has an end!//After all you'll see the color//Love,lets stay here//Love,peek to see the flowers//And understand the truth about what they call a heart//Leave the past hiding in the marsh//Here we can begin" - Quedemonos aquí by Homero Expósito and Hector Stamponi.

Fury:

"Mamichula, por vos me hago bueno, me hago malo//Por vos pierdo, por vos gano, mami, en esa estamo'//Ojalá entendieras que sos la única y primera//Así que vengan lo' que quieran, lo' de afuera son de palo, mai"

"Lil mamma for you I turn good,I turn bad//For you i lose,for you I win,mami thats where we're at//I hope you could understand youre the first and only//So whoever may come,the outsiders dont matter" -Solo por vos,by Trueno.

Strife:

"Dice que soy lo mejor de su vida//Que quiere perderse conmigo to' el día//Que por mí apunta, tira y tira//Que ya no le importa cometer un delito por su niña.

Y aunque no caigas en la de nadie//Con una mirada puede enamorarte o es parte de su arte//Tiene juego prepara'o para loca dejarte//Sa-auh-ah, uh-uh-uh, uh, uh aunque parezca un ángel es, es, es, e'"

"He says I'm the best thing in his life//That he wants to waste away his day with me//That for me he aims,shoots and shoots//That he doesn't care anymore about commiting crimes for his girl//And even if you don't fall for anyone's game//With one look he can make you fall in love,its part of his art//He has his game ready to leave you crazy// Even if he looks like an angel, he is,is,is"- Wapo Traketero by nickly nicole.

War:

"Nada como ir juntos a la par//Y caminos desandar//El honor no lo perdí//Es el héroe que hay en mí//Nada como ir juntos a la par" "Nothing like going together hand in hand//And trek the path//I didnt lose my honor//Its the hero that lives in me//Nothing like going together hand in hand"- Juntos a la par by Pappo

#darksiders #darksiders death #darksiders war #darksiders 2 #darksiders fury #darksiders strife #darksiders 3 #darksiders genesis #darksiders 1 #darksiders fanfic #darksiders x reader

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you-moveme-kurt · 2 years ago

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Glee «A very important meeting» Part III

Mayo de 2038

-¿Señor… Anderson?... ––dijo la Señorita Gogerty apareciendo por el otro lado de camilla -Soy yo… ––respondió Blaine levantándose en menos de un segundo, estiró su mano y saludo a la enfermera por sobre Lizzie, la chica miró a ambos e hizo ademanes de sentir un dolor terrible. -Vaya si es usted… ––agregó la mujer saludando de vuelta–– pensé que era un alcance de nombre… ––añadió sin soltarlo–– mucho gusto… -Igualmente… ––respondió Blaine comenzando a sentir un poco de incomodidad al no poder zafarse de ese eterno apretón de manos. -Disculpe… ––dijo la enfermera soltándolo por fin–– ¿puedo hablar con usted un instante?... ––dijo señalando hacia donde estaba el escritorio y la puerta de entrada de la sala de enfermería. -Por supuesto… ––dijo Blaine dirigiéndose donde le dijeran. -¡”Papáblen”!... —exclamó Lizzie abriendo sus ojos como platos -Vuelvo enseguida Princesa… tu quieta ahí… —dijo señalando— y si necesitas algo, Henry esta del otro lado… —terminó por decir indicando esta vez el lado derecho de la camilla. -Ok… —dijo la chica no muy convencida, se quedó quieta como estatua para intentar escuchar algo de lo que la enfermera le diría a su Papá. -”Rizzie”... —susurro Henry desde el otro lado de la separación de las tres camillas que había en la sala de enfermería.

-¿Henry? -¿Puedo pasar?... —pregunto aun en voz baja. -¡Ay Henry!, ¡obvio que sí! no estoy apestada o algo… ¡hola!... —respondió Lizzie poniendo caras. -Ok… —añadió su hermano entrando como en cámara lenta y asomando la cabeza primero— ¿el “Papáblen”?... —pregunto mirando a su alrededor. -Fue a hablar con la Señorita Gogerty… asómate para ver si escuchas algo… -¿¡Que!?... —exclamó Henry como si le hubiesen pedido robar la reserva del banco federal. -¡Ay Henry!… camina dos pasos y pone oído a lo que están diciendo… yo de aquí no escucho nada, ¡hola!... -No puedes escuchar conversaciones privadas hermanita… es mala educación… -Tu eres mala educación… ¡hola! -¿Qué?... —dijo Henry riendo. -Tú sabes… ¡uy!… —agregó Lizzie echándose hacia atrás. -¡Que pasa hermanita?, ¿te sientes mal? —preguntó Henry acariciandole una rodilla. -No… —Henry dio un respingo— es decir si… ay… —agregó la chica tomandose el vientre como si estuviera en labores de parto— qué terrible dolor, y solo quiero saber que esta pasando, no quiero que la enfermera le diga algo al “Papáblen” que me perjudique, ¡hola! -¿Y que podría decirle?… un segundo… —dijo Henry sacando su teléfono móvil al sentir el pitido de un mensaje entrante—¡¿que?! —exclamó leyendo el texto— con un demonio —agregó golpeándose la frente con el aparato telefónico -¿Qué te pasó?... —quiso saber Lizzie arrugando el ceño— Amelia cambió su estatus de Instagram… —añadió moviendo las cejas. -No… era Liang, la práctica se adelanto porque no quien mas tiene que ocupar el campo de futbol… -Y eso es malo porque… -No es malo, es decir es bueno porque terminaría antes… -¿Entonces? -... -Te juro Henry que si no me contestas soy capaz de aventarte todos estos palitos… —agregó la chica tomando el frasco donde la señorita Gogerty guardaba los bajalengua. -Es que le prometí al papá que me quedaría contigo…—dijo revolviéndose el pelo, Lizzie hizo un puchero sintiendo que moría de ternura por su hermano. -Pues si se lo prometiste debes quedarte, ¡hola!… si no que clase de promesa es esa, ¡doble hola!…—añadió la chica cruzándose de brazos para fingir estar molesta. -¿De verdad? -¡Ay Henry!, obvio que no, ¡hola!…además, ya llego el “Papáblen” creo y eso te libera de la promesa… -¿Segura?, no quiero parecer el peor hermano de todos o algo… -No lo eres Henry, eres el mejor hermano que existe… y te amo… es como si fuéramos protagonistas de una serie de televisión del año no se cuánto y que solo el Papá conoce… lo que es bien raro si lo piensas… —dijo Lizzie tomándose un momento para pensar en aquello y descifrar mentalmente que serie serían él y su hermano y cómo se llamaría el episodio que estaban viviendo en ese momento. -Eso es verdad… gracias hermanita… —dijo despidiéndose con un beso que le dio en la frente, tomó sus cosas y caminó un par de pasos en dirección de la puerta— solo para que quede claro… —agregó parado en el umbral— en la serie, yo aparecería primero en los creditos… —dijo señalándole con los dedos como si fueran dos pistolas, Lizzie río e hizo el ademán de aventar todo el frasco de los bajalengua, actos seguido volvió a lo de echarse hacia atrás y a quedarse en silencio con la esperanza de escuchar algo de la conversación entre Blaine y al señorita Gogerty.

-¿Ya nos podemos ir?... ¡he estado aquí como tres horas!, ¡hola! —dijo Lizzie como primera cosa en cuanto vio a su papá aparecer por la cortina. -Ya podemos… -¡Por fin!—exclamó bajándose de un salto. -Antes necesito que hablemos un momento Princesa… —dijo su Papá volviendo a acercar el taburete con ruedas para sentarse— solo será un momento… —agregó señalando la camilla, Lizzie lo miró con el ceño fruncido para luego mirar a en dirección de la señorita Gogerty y después otra vez a Blaine—por favor Princesa…—insistió su papá. -Ok… —dijo la chica haciendo todo como en cámara lenta. -Verás… la señorita Gogerty me contó lo que te sucede… -¡Yo se lo que me sucede!, yo sé lo dije a ella… ¡hola! -Lo se, pero también me dijo que habías venido con el mismo problema las últimas tres semanas… -Eso es imposible, ella está un poco ya sabes… —Lizzie hizo el gesto de locura con sus manos— además que siempre esta recetando vitaminas a todos, lo que es súper raro si me lo preguntas, la otra vez con Alaska… -Princesa… -No, de verdad… te juro que cuando… -Lizzie… —dijo a Blaine alzando un poco su voz, la chica supo que todo era más serio en ese instante y no por el cambio de volumen en la voz de su papá, si lo porque la llamaba por su nombre. -Esta bien… —dijo bajando los hombros como si se hubiera quedado sin las baterías que mantenían en funcionamiento sus brazos— menti… pero de esas veces dos fueron de verdad lo juro… —añadió haciendo gestos desordenados de promesa en su cara y pecho— por favor no te enojes -No stoy enojado… solo estoy hablando contigo… -Pero tienes esa cara, todo asi… —insistió la chica imitando al expresión de su Papá, Blaine quiso reír al verse reflejado tan fielmente en su hija, sin embargo se aguanto las gana y siguió con la conversación. -¿Por qué mentiste Princesa? -No lo sé… -Lizzie… -¡De verdad!, es decir… no quiera peor era la única forma que tenía de no estar en la clase de gimnasia… -¿Como? -Eso… con Alaska averiguamos que podíamos hacer y nos encontramos con eso… -¿Y dónde averiguaron eso?, ¿101 formas de mentir? -¡Ay “Papáblen” estás hablando como tu esposo!… ¡hola!... y no… lo leímos por ahí… -Déjame entender entonces… no te gusta algo y en vez de afrontarlo o hablar con el Papá o conmigo… decides… ¿inventar una mentira? -... -¿Por que hija?, el año escolar ya esta casi terminando… ¿era necesario hacer eso? -Si, desde que cambiaron los ejercicios normales a las barras, aros, y unas cintas que hay que mover como estúpida… ¡hola! -¿Gimnasia artistica? -No se que tiene tanto de arte, pero si… -¿Y que pasó con los deportes?, pensé que este semestre tendrían basquetbol y otras cosas… -Teníamos hasta que llegó una nueva maestra y dijo, “las niñas harán esto y los niños esto otro”… y en cuanto término de hablar, el feminismo retrocedió como 100 años… ¡uy!… ¡que rabia que dio!… -Eso parece bastante injusto… y sexista también… —dijo Blaine cruzándose de brazos. -¡Lo se!… ¡hola!… ahora te das cuenta porque tuve que mentir… -No, y no pongas palabras en mi boca, jamás he dicho que se justificaba decir una mentira, lo que sí se justifica es que te reveles contra esa decisión… -Obvio y eso es lo que fue mi mentira, un acto de rebelión… ¡poder para el pueblo! —exclamó Lizzie levantando una mano empuñada— y si sirve de algo… siento haber mentido… —dijo poniendo cara de circunstancias trágicas. -Lo de Princesa… y gracias por reconocer que eso estuvo mal… —contestó Blaine señalándola. -Super mal… no le cuentes al papá… -No puedo hacer eso Princesa, él era el más preocupado… -Perdona “Papáblen” pero tú esposo de un tiempo a esta parte solo está preocupado de su reunión súper importante con los ricachones esos… ¡hola! —dijo Lizzie haciendo ademanes de alguien extra relamido y sofisticado. -No seas injusta, él siempre se preocupa por todos, aunque en realidad de un tiempo a está parte… en fin, esto es lo que haremos Lizzie Anderson, primero iremos a la pastelería Lafayette a por unos macarons de violeta para el Papá…—dijo Blaine levantándose, puso el taburete con ruedas en su lugar y tomó las cosas de su hija. -¡Uy!, soborno, ¡me encanta!… —exclamó la chica bajándose de un salto. -Segundo, iremos a casa y hablaremos con el Papá…. —añadió ofreciéndole el brazo para que Lizzie se colgara de él. -Esa parte no me gusta tanto, pero habrá que aceptarla… ¡hola! -Vamos… cuando Kurt Hummel escuche eso de que “las niñas harán esto y los niños esto otro” es capaz de venir aquí con un piquete de protesta nunca visto en “Montessori School of New York International” —termino por decir Blaine sonriendo como siempre, como solo él sabia.

#Klaine #escenas borradas glee #blaine y kurt #glee #klaine fanfiction

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