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rivalsforlife · 4 years ago

Text

The AAI Cast Takes On Twitter

Hello! For the release of ace attorney investigations 2 ten years ago, on the official AA twitter account, Capcom posted a bunch of tweets that were made to sound like they came from the characters themselves. You can still find them if you dig far enough, but it’s a bit of a pain to find and especially a pain to understand in English, so I decided to compile them all here and attempt to translate them. (They have also been “localized” in true ace attorney fashion.)

First, a disclaimer: I am absolutely NOT a translator and my understanding of Japanese is abysmal. I put the original tweets through google translate and then went through trying to make them legible, including looking up words and phrases when they didn’t make any sense. As a result, I can’t guarantee that this is completely accurate, and I definitely messed with phrasing a bit to get things to flow better or sound more in character. Hopefully the general gist of things should make sense! I’ll put the original Japanese text below the English one, and if you actually know Japanese and would like to properly translate it, please do so! I just wanted to get this out here as fast as possible.

If you want to view the original tweets, I’ve filtered them (mostly!) here in reverse-chronological order. There are tweets from the game staff at the end that I did not “translate”.

With that said, here are the tweets. (It is long, so most of it is under the cut.) The breaks are things I added that I believe were breaks in time on the actual account, and represent new scenes.

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<Edgeworth>: I was told to “tweet” what I usually think about to commemorate the release of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2”... What should I do?

<Kay>: Come on, Mr. Edgeworth! First, you need to introduce yourself!

<Edgeworth>: Oh. Sorry for the late introduction. My name is Miles Edgeworth, a prosecutor at the District Attorney's Office. Kay informed me that this is “Tweeter”.

<Kay>: No! It’s pronounced "Twitter"!

<Edgeworth>: Is it "Tweeter"? I'm not very good at this kind of thing ...

<Kay>: Okay, moving on. Ace Attorney Investigations 2 is about to be released, and Mr. Edgeworth has a lot to say, right?

<Edgeworth>: Mm. Certainly, there are few opportunities like this, so this should be a valuable experience.

<Kay>: Then this Great Thief, Kay Faraday, will teach Mr. Edgeworth the fun of tweeting!

<Edgeworth>: I’m not very interested in that… but alright. More importantly, Kay, do you want to start working soon?

<Kay>: Yes! Then, we can play later!

<Edgeworth>: (Well, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to tweet.)

<Kay>: Mr. Edgeworth ... Your inner voice is in the tweet! Isn't that neat?

<Edgeworth>: Ah! Tweeter… I shouldn’t underestimate it.

-----

<Edgeworth>: It's already 12 o'clock ... I wanted to take a break for lunch, but it seems that I won’t get the chance. The detective just reported a new case. I'm heading to the scene right now.

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe seems to have been in a hurry. He said he “lost something important”... It’s probably not something to worry about. I should concentrate on the investigation first. It takes a careful investigation to find out the truth hidden in the scene. There are many things that cannot be understood from desk work alone.

<Edgeworth>: I've arrived at the scene. Mm? It seems that some pencils have fallen near the victim.

<Edgeworth>: Search for the connection between information. That is the pursuit of "Logic". Assembling "Logic" is the key to the investigation even in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. “Something lost by Detective Gumshoe” and the “pencil left on the scene” ... There is one answer that can be derived from the two pieces of information.

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe! It seems that we found your lost pencil. ‥‥ Don’t leave extra evidence on the scene!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... Finally, the truth of the scene has come into view. This case will likely be resolved soon.

-----

<Kay>: Good evening! I came to play as promised!

<Gumshoe>: Welcome, Kay!

<Kay>: Huh? Gummy, are you also on Twitter?

<Gumshoe>: It’s popular among my detective friends. As long as my number of followers keeps increasing, I’m happy!

<Edgeworth>: What is a "follower"?

<Gumshoe>: Well, people who read your tweets. To put it simply, it’s like a friend group.

<Kay>: It seems that there are many people who are watching this tweet! Ehehe. That makes me kind of happy!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm. Friend group...? That sounds a little embarrassing, but thank you, followers.

<Kay>: Hmm. I feel that followers and friends are a little different. Well, as long as he’s happy.

<Edgeworth>: Let’s say that tomorrow we’ll spend more time with our followers on Tweeter.

-----

<Gumshoe>: I've been waiting for you, Prosecutor Edgeworth!

<Edgeworth>: Mm. Good morning Detective Gumshoe. It's rare for you to get to court earlier than me.

<Gumshoe>: That’s because I have to set a good example for my followers! I skipped dinner last night so I wouldn't be late.

<Edgeworth>: What does skipping dinner have to do with getting up early?

<Gumshoe>: Well, it sets a “belly clock”, so you wake up at breakfast time!

<Edgeworth>: (There are too many problems with that, and I don't feel like pointing them all out... I’ll just stay silent.)

<Gumshoe>: Mr. Edgeworth ... We can see the tweets of your inner voice, you know…?

<Edgeworth>: It's about time for the court to open. I'm heading into court without any uncertainty today.

-----

<Kay>: Hello everybody! I'm Kay Faraday, also known as the Great Thief Yatagarasu. Fufufu ... I’m actually in the gallery right now! I wanted to see Mr. Edgeworth and Gummy in court, and keep an eye on the enemy!

<Kay>: Oh! Mr. Edgeworth screamed, “Objection!” This is the 5th time today. The other lawyer is sweating now. The judge’s gavel is getting fierce! Eh -- what? “You can’t tweet in the courtroom…?” Hey!

<Kay>: Uh ... I was kicked out of the courtroom. As expected by the new rival of Ace Attorney Investigations 2, Justine Courtney! She seems like a kind judge, but also very observant.

<Kay>: This is an unexpectedly strong enemy! Mr. Edgeworth, are you okay ...?

<Edgeworth>: Kay. What were you doing in the gallery today?

<Gumshoe>: I was surprised to see Kay being kicked out of court!

<Kay>: I didn't think that tweeting was prohibited. As a Great Thief, this is the ultimate mistake!

<Edgeworth>: If you have time to regret breaking the rules of the court, use it to learn a little more about them.

<Kay>: If I had to leave the court anyways, I wanted to have a cooler exit, befitting of a Great Thief!

<Gumshoe>: … I don’t think she regretted breaking the rules.

<Kay>: Anyway! You’ve already finished your work today, right?

<Edgeworth>: Yes, I finished my work in the courtroom today. It looks like we can have a nice holiday.

<Kay>: So, why don’t the three of us go play together! Bowling, karaoke, game centers, etc.!

<Edgeworth>: No ... I'm not very good at such things.

<Gumshoe>: Since it’s Friday night, why don’t we play around and recover from working hard! I think watching movies would be fun!

<Kay>: Yeah, you worked so hard this week! Now, let’s go play!

<Edgeworth>: *sigh*. Whatever I say, it’ll be a waste of time… If we must, at least make it a movie.

-----

<Gumshoe>: This Saturday morning is a nice time for a walk! I sometimes take a walk with Missile to build strength and give him training. As the “partner” of Prosecutor Edgeworth, I want to be useful in Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Gumshoe>: When investigating with a metal detector or collaborating with Missile, I will be second to none! Hey, Missile! Hmm? Is a scent bothering you? Aaaaa! Mi-Missile has run away! He must’ve smelled food.

<Gumshoe>: When this happens, I have to rely on the odor to chase after it! This is part of the investigation process! Uh… I lost him right away. When this happens, I have to prepare sweets that Missile likes to lure him in! … I’m so overwhelmed.

<Kay>: It’s a shame to keep Missile as a police dog. He stole away Samurai Dogs from this Great Thief and ate them…! I was trying to eat with Ema.

<Gumshoe>: Sorry about that, pal. By the way, what were you doing together? Collecting fallen leaves…?

<Ema>: We’re grilling Samurai Dogs on this fire we made from scientific chemicals!

<Gumshoe>: Huh. Scientific chemicals, pal…? Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Missile! Do you feel alright?

<Kay>: It’s fine! He ate it before we started the fire.

<Gumshoe>: Oh. I wish I got to have some...

<Edgeworth>: It’s not good to use chemicals to play with fire, Ema. Scientific research is important, but please use moderation.

<Ema>: Yes! Moderation! By the way, are you going somewhere?

<Edgeworth>: Yes. I have some business. ... I don't have much time, so excuse me.

<Kay>: ... Mr. Edgeworth, where are you going?

<Ema>: Fufufu. In this case, we can follow his footsteps! Using the power of science… in moderation!

<Kay>: Alright! Let's follow him… in moderation!

<Gumshoe>: They both have a strange definition of “moderation”...

-----

<Kay>: That overwhelming scale! I think I’m going to cry! That’s a first for an orchestra concert!

<Ema>: The powerful sound of brass instruments and the splendid melody of woodwind instruments! Scientifically speaking, changing between different sounds is what makes music good.

<Edgeworth>: Umm. While I was looking forward to today, I didn't expect you two to follow me.

<Kay>: I wanted to bring Gummy as well, but he had to walk Missile, so he couldn’t come with us.

<Edgeworth>: The detective can still hear the “Ace Attorney Investigations 2 Orchestra Arrangement Collection” CD. You can pre-order one at E-Capcom.

<Ema>: I already pre-ordered it, of course! I’ll also get the 1:10 figure of Mr. Edgeworth!

<Edgeworth>: A 1:10 figure of myself? I don't remember measuring my height, but ...

<Kay>: That's because I stole Mr. Edgeworth's height perfectly!

<Edgeworth>: I'm a little hesitant to say it in the orchestra hall, but let me just say one word.

<Kay>: "Objection!"

<Edgeworth>: Wha…? How did you --!

<Ema>: This must be the famous technique of the Great Thief, stealing the words right out of his mouth! How informative!

-----

<Edgeworth>: I have no plans today, so I will spend my time reading at a nearby coffee shop. Naturally, I want to relax on Sundays.

<Edgeworth>: I’m drinking high-quality black tea in a comfortable sunny place. Today is going to be a good day off.

<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, the other day, a follower named “Wendy” greeted me here on Tweeter. I don’t know how to return messages, so I haven’t done so yet. Let me thank you here. Ms. Wendy, thank you for following me.

<Oldbag>: E… Edgey-pooooooo! I finally found youuuuuuu!

<Edgeworth>: Gah! What are you doing in this coffee shop ...!?

<Oldbag>: No way, Edgey-poo! Just now, didn’t you say this on Twitter? Didn’t you just say “Ms. Wendy, thank you”? You made this old lady so happy! I just ran around all the coffee shops and searched for you everywhere, Edgey-poo. The power of lo

<Edgeworth>: Do you talk too much to fit on Tweeter? So, “Wendy” was you! No matter how many coffee shops you visit, there’s no way you found me so easily… Are you hiding something?

<Oldbag>: If you say that without evidence, you’d tarnish the title of “prosecutor!” I have nothing to hide from my dearest Edgey-poo!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm… Even without evidence, if I read your reactions and feelings, I can expose the truth while only using my words.

<Oldbag>: Oh, I heard about this, Edgey-poo! Isn’t it called “Logic Chess”? I know everything about you, Edgey-poo!

<Edgeworth>: What do you mean by “I know everything?”

<Oldbag>: You see, it’s because I’m a security guard. Recently, because the whippersnapper who was there before me got fired, I was temporarily guarding the prosecutor’s office. At that time, I just so happened to see your address, Edgey-poo.

<Edgeworth>: …………… I didn’t even need to pull out information, and you’re already telling me the answer!

<Oldbag>: Oh. It was a slip of the tongue. I thought I would get to see Logic chess.

<Edgeworth>: Well, could you see it in Ace Attorney Investigations 2? Please excuse me, I have very important business to attend to.

<Oldbag>: You mentioned that you have no business today! Today, I will never let you go!

-----

<Edgeworth>: Ngh… That was quite the disaster today.

<Edgeworth>: I was too careful just because it was a holiday. I was neglecting my remarks and wasn’t vigilant of those around me ...

<Edgeworth>: Mm? Now “Tweeter” is showing something from “Wendy”. … “Sorry. - Wendy.” … I’m not going to respond to that!

-----

<Gumshoe>: Prosecutor Edgeworth, did you hear? Agent Lang is coming from the Republic of Zheng Fa!

<Edgeworth>: Hm. Is he also involved in an international case? I didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him for long the last time. If I have time, I’ll go greet him.

<Gumshoe>: The last incident was a difficult one. I couldn’t talk much with Agent Lang’s subordinates, either.

<Gumshoe>: There are 100 people who know about it.

<Edgeworth>: If you tried to talk to everyone, the sun would set before you did.

<Gumshoe>: To be honest, I gave up trying to remember my own face and name.

<Edgeworth>: That’s just being lazy!

-----

<Lang>: Yo, Mr. Prosecutor. It's strange to see you in a place like this.

<Edgeworth>: It's been a long time, Agent Lang. I never thought we would meet again at a restaurant like this.

<Lang>: I just happened to see this place while I was looking for somewhere I could go alone.

<Edgeworth>: Alone ...? That’s unusual for you. Aren’t you usually with your subordinates?

<Lang>: Well… Lang Zi says: “To know the feelings of a lone wolf, you should leave the pack.” Sometimes I do things on my own.

<Edgeworth>: Is that so? However, I see a contradiction right there on your table.

<Lang>: Hah! Is that the prosecutor’s famous “deduction”?

<Edgeworth>: For someone eating alone, you ordered a lot of “platters”, which seem to serve over twenty people.

<Lang>: Arooooooo! ‥‥Oops. It seems I have a habit of ordering too much. If you don’t mind, Mr. Prosecutor, would you take a little?

<Edgeworth>: It seems that you’re not very good at acting alone.

-----

<Kay>: Eh? Agent Lang’s coming here again?

<Edgeworth>: Ah, yes. Unlike before, though, it seems like he’s acting alone for some reason.

<Kay>: Isn’t that because it’s difficult to sneak around with too many people? It’s an important rule for a Great Thief!

<Edgeworth>: He is an “international investigator”, not a “Great Thief”. … Anyway, he seemed to come to this country for some purpose.

<Kay>: Then, we might meet him again at a crime scene.

<Edgeworth>: Even if we both desire to pursue the truth, our paths often run counter to each other. If I meet him in the field, we may argue.

<Kay>: That’s nice. I also want a rival that will change me as a person! Ahh… I wonder if they’re out there… the rival who wants to hunt down the Great Thief!

<Edgeworth>: If you want to be arrested so badly, ask Detective Gumshoe.

<Kay>: Ugh! You just don’t get it!

-----

<Kay>: It's finally February!

<Edgeworth>: Oh. So it is...

<Gumshoe>: I'm looking forward to February 3rd!

<Gumshoe>: At our police station, we will sow beans for the bean-throwing festival! February 3rd is a precious day when you can eat soybeans for free!

<Kay>: Every year, I challenge myself with how many beans I can throw! “Out with the demons, in with the fortune, and in with the Great Thief’s treasure!”

<Edgeworth>: Did you forget the most important thing?

<Kay>: I was just kidding! Of course I remember what’s happening February 3rd!

<Gumshoe>: There is no reason to forget the release date of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Edgeworth>: Mm ... I hope.

-----

<Edgeworth>: It’s three days before the game goes on sale. I hope the followers look forward to it as well.

<Edgeworth>: Investigating in winter is necessary, even if it’s cold, and you can’t catch a cold before the game goes on sale. Ergo, please take proper measures against the cold.

<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, Detective Gumshoe wears the same coat all year round. Doesn’t that get cold? Ah… maybe it’s just that his salary is too low to buy anything else.

<Edgeworth>: ……… Should I invite Detective Gumshoe for dinner? What little I know about his eating habits worries me. I don’t think he’d eat instant noodles in winter…

<Edgeworth>: There is a handmade udon restaurant near the prosecutor's office. The taste is satisfying for a reasonable price. ‥‥‥‥‥‥ Though, when it comes to inviting Detective Gumshoe, I shouldn’t limit myself to just noodles.

<Edgeworth>: Mm. I tweeted that it was only 3 days before the game’s release, but it was 2 days. I worked all night in the office yesterday. It seems my sense of time has gone haywire.

<Edgeworth>: What I tweeted then was contradictory… Pardon me. Thank you, followers who pointed that out.

---

<Gumshoe>: This pork roast is delicious! This is my first one of the year!

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe. Stop eating while tweeting!

<Gumshoe>: I've been eating only plain pasta this year. I couldn’t help myself!

<Kay>: I could, but I still tweeted!

<Edgeworth>: It may not be instant ramen, but his eating habits are always in crisis.

<Gumshoe>: Ugh... every time I make a mistake while investigating, the cost of living becomes a crisis.

<Kay>: But the one who is in the most danger right now is Mr. Edgeworth, isn't it? I saw it in a commercial! He’s having his “biggest crisis!”

<Gumshoe>: I heard it too ... What kind of mistake did you make, sir?

<Edgeworth>: Don’t compare me to you! I don’t know what it is, but I’m not afraid of any crisis. No matter what happens, I simply do what I think is right.

<Kay>: As expected of Mr. Edgeworth! Well, you can always count on this Great Thief to help you in an emergency!

<Gumshoe>: Of course, I will help too! If you want to manage your living expenses in a crisis, sir, just leave it to me!

<Edgeworth>: First, could you try helping me as a detective?

-----

<Kay>: By the way, Mr. Edgeworth, what kind of person is your father?

<Edgeworth>: … Why would you suddenly ask such a question?

<Kay>: I just asked Mr. Shields. He said your father was a very good person! I also respect my dad, so I was a little curious about yours.

<Edgeworth>: When I was a child, he was someone I highly respected, and… the kind of man I aspired to be.

<Kay>: Huh? Is it different now?

<Edgeworth>: ……… About that… It’s difficult to explain. If you want to know the answer, please wait until tomorrow.

<Kay>: I see! The answer is hidden in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. I’ll be sure to steal the truth about Mr. Edgeworth!

-----

<Kay>: Gummy! Please decorate it from the right side!

<Gumshoe>: Here it is! Oh no, the decoration fell!

<Edgeworth>: What are you doing in my office in the middle of my workday?

<Gumshoe>: I’m off duty, but since today’s the eve of the release date, I’m preparing a party!

<Kay>: It's almost time to tweet! Mr. Edgeworth, please work and just ignore us!

<Edgeworth>: If you truly want that, then please stop climbing on my desk. … I’ll finish work soon, so please wait until then.

<Kay>: Eh! Are you going to help us?

<Edgeworth>: I would like to celebrate.

<Gumshoe>: That’s helpful, sir! Then, I’ll be sitting on the sofa and waiting until it’s time!

<Edgeworth>: ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ Just wait in the corridor.

-----

<Gumshoe>: Cheers for the release of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... This party for the eve of the release is rather nice.

<Kay>: Ehehe. Tomorrow, we’ll give it our all!

<Edgeworth>: Umm. Thank you very much.

<Kay>: This is the last of our tweets ... It's a little regrettable.

<Edgeworth>: But I’m glad I had this opportunity to directly express my gratitude for the week. Those who were watching our tweets… let me thank you again.

<Gumshoe>: I still have something to talk about, but we’re already out of time!

<Kay>: But the eve of the release has only just begun! After this, you can talk to the development staff of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2” directly!

<Gumshoe>: Oh! Is that the plan?

<Kay>: I’m certain, because it’s information I stole from Capcom! It seems like it will start around 18:00!

<Edgeworth>: I do have a lot to ask, but let's leave that to the followers. Well then, excuse us for now.

<Edgeworth>: If you have any questions for the development staff, please quickly send them in!

------

Translation notes first:

The localized foods are as follows:

dorayaki -> Samurai Dogs (since Missile also has a habit of eating those, though I don’t believe the original was dorayaki?)

somen -> instant ramen

katsudon -> pork roast

shirataki -> plain pasta

The “bean-throwing festival” is Setsubun, a festival where you toss soybeans and eat some in order to toss out bad luck and bring in good luck (to my understanding, please correct me if I’m wrong). What Kay said (minus the Great Thief part) is one translation of a phrase you shout while throwing the beans. I obviously gave up on trying to localize this.

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Original Japanese (minus breaks):

〈ミツルギ〉：『逆転検事２　発売直前記念』として、私が日頃思っていることを“つぶやく”ように言われたのだが‥‥どうすればいいのだろうか？

〈ミクモ〉：ダメですよミツルギさん！まずは自己紹介からしないと！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。紹介が遅れてすまない。私の名前は御剣怜侍、地方検事局で検事をしている。ミクモ��んに教えてもらったのだが、これが“ついたー”というものなのだな。

〈ミクモ〉：違いますよ！“ツイッター”ですってば！

〈ミツルギ〉：“ついったー”か。こういったアレは、あまり得意ではないのだが‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：まあまあ。逆転検事２も発売間近ですし、ミツルギさんも言いたいこといっぱいあるでしょ？

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。確かにこういった機会は少ないから貴重ではあるな。

〈ミクモ〉：それじゃ、この大ドロボウ・一条美雲ちゃんが、つぶやく面白さをミツルギさんに教えちゃいますよー！

〈ミツルギ〉：そちらはあまり興味がないが‥‥まあいいだろう。それよりミクモくん。そろそろ仕事を始めたいのだが？

〈ミクモ〉：はーい！　それじゃ、また後で遊びに来ますね！

〈ミツルギ〉：（まあ、気になったことがあれば気軽につぶやくとするか）

〈ミクモ〉：ミツルギさん‥‥。心の声がつぶやきに出てますよ！興味津々じゃないですか！

〈ミツルギ〉：なッ！ついったー‥‥あなどれんな。

〈ミツルギ〉：もう１２時か‥‥優雅にランチといきたいところだが、そうもいかないようだ。先ほど刑事から新たな事件の報告が入ったのでな。いま、現場に向かっているところだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事は、“大事な物をなくした”と慌てていたようだが‥‥どうせたいした物ではないだろう。いまは捜査に集中するべきだ。現場に隠された真実を知るには、入念な捜査を必要とする。デスクワークだけでは分からないことも多いのだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥現場に到着だ。ム？被害者の近くに“えんぴつ”が落ちているようだな。

〈ミツルギ〉：情報同士の共通点を探す。それこそが《ロジック》を追うということだ。逆転検事２でも《ロジック》を組み立てることが捜査の重要なカギを握っている。現場に残された“えんぴつ”と“イトノコギリ刑事がなくした物”‥‥２つの情報から導き出せる答えは１つ。

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事！キミが無くしたというえんぴつが見つかったようだ。‥‥現場に余計な証拠品を残さないように。

〈ミツルギ〉：ふむ‥‥‥‥ようやく現場の真実が見えてきた。この事件は早急に解決できそうだ。

〈ミクモ〉：こんばんわ！約束通り遊びにきましたよ！

〈イトノコ〉：いらっしゃいッス！ミクモちゃん！

〈ミクモ〉：あれ？ノコちゃんもツイッターやってるんだ？

〈イトノコ〉：刑事仲間の間でも流行ってるッスよ。フォロワーもどんどん増えて、うれしい限りッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥“フォロワー”とは何なのだろうか？

〈イトノコ〉：えーと。自分のつぶやきを読んでくれる人たちのことッス。簡単に説明すると“トモダチの輪”って感じッスかねえ。

〈ミクモ〉：このつぶやきを見てくれている人たちも、たく��んいるみたいですよ！えへへ。なんだかうれしいですね！

〈ミツルギ〉：ふむ。トモダチの輪‥‥か。少々恥ずかしくもあるが、ありがたいことだな。

〈ミクモ〉：うーん。フォロワーとトモダチとはちょっと違うような気もしますケド‥‥。ま。喜んでいるみたいなのでいいや！

〈ミツルギ〉：明日も“ついったー”で、フォロワーに恥じぬ時間を過ごすとしよう。

〈イトノコ〉：お待ちしてたッスよ！御剣検事！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。おはようイトノコギリ刑事。私よりはやく裁判所に着くとはめずらしいな。

〈イトノコ〉：フォロワーのみんなに、カッコ悪いとこを見せられないッスからね！遅刻しないように、昨夜は夕飯を抜いておいたッスよ。

〈ミツルギ〉：夕飯を抜くのと早起きをするのに、何の関係があるというのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：すさまじい“腹時計”で、朝ご飯の時間に目覚めることが出来るッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：（問題が多すぎて、指摘する気にもなれん。‥‥ここはあえて黙っているとしよう）

〈イトノコ〉：御剣検事‥‥。心の声のつぶやきが自分にも見えるの、分かってやってるッスよね‥‥？

〈ミツルギ〉：そろそろ開廷の時間だ。余計なセンサクをしていないで、法廷に向かうぞ。

〈ミクモ〉：みなさんこんにちは！大ドロボウ・ヤタガラスこと一条美雲です。ふっふっふ‥‥実はいま、傍聴席にいるんですよ！敵情視察も兼ねて、ミツルギさんとノコちゃんの法廷姿を見ておこうと思って！

〈ミクモ〉：あ！ミツルギさんがまた『異議あり！』って叫んでる！今日はこれで５回目ですねー。相手の弁護士さんも汗だらだら流してますよ。裁判官の木槌も激しくなってます！えーとなになに？“法廷内でのつぶやきは却下しま‥‥す？”え。ちょ、ちょっと！

〈ミクモ〉：ううう‥‥‥‥法廷内から追い出されちゃいました。さすがは逆転検事２の新ライバル“水鏡　秤”さん！優しそうな裁判官だと思ってユダンしていました。

〈ミクモ〉：これは思わぬ強敵ですよ！ミツルギさん、大丈夫かなあ‥‥？

〈ミツルギ〉：ミクモくん。今日は一体傍聴席で何をしていたのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：法廷から追い出されるミクモちゃんを見て、ビックリしたッスよ！

〈ミクモ〉：まさかつぶやきが禁止とは思いませんでした‥‥。大ドロボウとして、一生の不覚です！

〈ミツルギ〉：後悔するヒマがあるのなら、法廷のルールについてもう少し学んでおきたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：どうせ退廷させられるのなら、もっとカッコ良く立ち去りたかったです！大ドロボウとしては！

〈イトノコ〉：‥‥そっちで後悔しているとは思わなかったッス。

〈ミクモ〉：それはともかく！　今日はもうお仕事終わりなんですよね？

〈ミツルギ〉：今日の法廷で仕事は一段落ついたからな。気持ちよく休日をむかえられそうだ。

〈ミクモ〉：せっかくだから、いまから３人で遊びに行きましょうよ！ボーリングとかカラオケとか‥‥ゲームセンターとか！

〈ミツルギ〉：いや‥‥私はそういったものはあまり得意ではないのだが。

〈イトノコ〉：まあまあ。金曜日の夜はパーッと遊んで、仕事の疲れを癒すものッスよ！映画とかもいいッスねえ！

〈ミクモ〉：今週もお仕事お疲れ様でした！さあさあ。遊びに行きましょう！

〈ミツルギ〉：まったく。いまのキミたちには何を言ってもムダのようだな。‥‥せめて、映画にしてくれたまえ。

〈イトノコ〉：土曜日の朝は散歩日和ッスねえ！ミサイル。体力作りとミサイルの訓練も兼ねて、たまに一緒に散歩してるッスよ。御剣検事の“パートナー”として、逆転検事２では自分も役に立ちたいッスからね！

〈イトノコ〉：金属探知機を使った捜査やミサイルとの連携なら、誰にも負けないッス！ねー。ミサイル！ん？何か気になるニオイでもあるッスか？ああああッ！ミ、ミサイルが走って行っちまったッス！ミサイルは食べ物のニオイがすると突っ走っちゃうッスよ。

〈イトノコ〉：こうなったら自分もニオイを頼りに追いかけるしか！こっちも捜査のプロッスからね！うぅ‥‥‥‥‥‥さっそく見失っちまったッス。こうなったら、ミサイルが好きなお菓子を用意しておびきよせるッス！‥‥本末転倒な気もするッスけど‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：警察犬にしておくには惜しいですね、ミサイル。まさか大ドロボウから“どら焼き”を盗み食いするなんて‥‥！せっかく、あかねちゃんと２人で食べようとしてたのになあ。

〈イトノコ〉：おどろかせてすまねッス。ところで、さっきは２人で何をしてたッスか？落ち葉をこんなに集めて‥‥。

〈アカネ〉：ヒゾウのカガク薬品でおこした火を利用して、あったか～い “焼きどら焼き”を作ろうかと！

〈イトノコ〉：え。カガク薬品ッスか‥‥？ミミミミミサイル！お腹の調子は悪くないッスか！

〈ミクモ〉：大丈夫だよ！火をおこす前に食べられちゃったから。

〈イトノコ〉：ほっ。だったら良かったッス。

〈ミツルギ〉：ぜんぜん良くないだろう。カガク薬品を使って、公共の場で火遊びなど。あかねさん。カガクの研究は大事ですが、ほどほどにしていただきたい。

〈アカネ〉：はい！ほどほどにします！ところで、どこかにお出かけですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：ええ。少し用事がありまして‥‥。あまり時間がないので、失礼します。

〈ミクモ〉：‥‥ミツルギさん、どこに行くんだろうね？

〈アカネ〉：ふっふっふ。そんなときは足跡を辿ればいいんですよ！ほどほどにカガクの力を使って！

〈ミクモ〉：よーし！ほどほどに尾行しましょう！

〈イトノコ〉：２人とも‥‥ほどほどの使い方がおかしい気がするッス。

〈ミクモ〉：あの圧倒的なスケール！涙なしには語れません！オーケストラコンサートなんて初めてです！

〈アカネ〉：金管楽器の力強い音と、木管楽器の華麗な旋律！音のカガク変化を起こすことで、音楽は作られているんですね‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：うム。この日を楽しみにしていたかいがあったというものだ。‥‥まさか、キミたちまでついてくるとは思わなかったがな。

〈ミクモ〉：ノコちゃんにも聞かせてあげたかったな−。ミサイルの散歩があるから、一緒に来られなかったんですよね。

〈ミツルギ〉：刑事には、サウンドトラック��Ｄ「オーケストラ・アレンジ楽曲集　〜奏でられし逆転〜」を聞かせるとしよう。いまからでもイーカプコンで予約出来るだろう。

〈アカネ〉：あたしはもちろん予約済みです！御剣検事さんの“1/10フィギュア”もバッチリゲットしますよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：私の1/10フィギュア？身長などを測られた覚えはないが‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：そりゃもう、わたしがミツルギさんの情報をバッチリ盗んでおきましたからね！

〈ミツルギ〉：オーケストラホールで言うのはいささかためらわれるが‥‥一言だけ、言わせていただこう。

〈ミクモ〉：“異議あり！”‥‥ってね！

〈ミツルギ〉：な‥‥なぜキミが言うのだ！

〈アカネ〉：これが有名な大ドロボウの技“言葉を盗む”ですね。勉強になります！

〈ミツルギ〉：今日は特に予定が入っていない。近くの喫茶店で読書をして過ごすとしよう。‥‥さすがに、日曜日ぐらいは落ち着いて過ごしたいからな。

〈ミツルギ〉：心地よい日の当たる場所で、上質の紅茶を飲む‥‥。今日は良い休日になりそうだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：そういえば、先日“カオルさん”というフォロワーから、ついったーでアイサツされたのだが‥‥。アイサツを返す方法が分からなかったので、まだ返せていないのだ。ここで改めて礼を言わせていただこう。カオルさん、フォローしていただき感謝する。

〈オバチャン〉：ミ‥‥ミッちゃぁああん！やっと見つけたよぉおおお！

〈ミツルギ〉：ぐッ！ど、どうしてあなたがこの喫茶店に‥‥！

〈オバチャン〉：やだよミッちゃん！こないだこのツイッターとやらでアイサツしたじゃないか。さっきも“カオルさん、感謝する。”って言ってくれただろう？オバチャンうれしくなっちゃってねえ。ついついそこいらの喫茶店を巡ってミッちゃんを探しちまったのさ。愛のチカラっ

〈ミツルギ〉：は、早口すぎて“ついーと”におさまっていないではないか！しかも、“カオルさん”とは‥‥‥‥あなたのことだったのか！いくら喫茶店を巡ったといっても、こんなにカンタンに見つかるワケはない。‥‥何か隠していることがあるのではないか？

〈オバチャン〉：ミッちゃんったら、証拠もないのにそんなこと言っちゃ検事の名がすたれちゃうよ！オバチャンがミッちゃんに隠し事なんてするわけないじゃないのサ！

〈ミツルギ〉：フッ‥‥証拠品がなくとも、あなたの反応や感情を読み取り“言葉のみ”で真実を引き出してみせよう。

〈オバチャン〉：ああ。それならオバチャンも聞いたよ、ミッちゃん！《ロジックチェス》っていうヤツだろ？オバチャン、ミッちゃんのことなら何でも知ってるんだからね！

〈ミツルギ〉：“何でも知っている？”‥‥とはどういうことだろうか？

〈オバチャン〉：ほら。オバチャン警備員だからさ。このあいだ、前に勤めてた子がクビになったっていうから臨時で検事局の警備をしてたんだヨ。そのときにミッちゃんの住所がたまたま目に入っちゃってサ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥こちらから情報を引き出すまでもなく、自分で答えを言っているではないか！

〈オバチャン〉：あら。つい口が滑っちまったヨ。せっかくロジックチェスが見られると思ったのに残念だねえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：そ、それは逆転検事２で見ていただけないだろうか。私は用事があるので失礼する！

〈オバチャン〉：今日は��事がないってつぶやいてたじゃないか！今日という今日は、オバチャン絶対に逃がさないヨッ！

〈ミツルギ〉：く‥‥今日はさんざんな目にあった。

〈ミツルギ〉：休日だからといって気を抜きすぎていたな。自分の発言や周囲の警戒を怠っていたとは‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：ム？また“カオルさん”から私あてに“ついーと”が来ているな。『残念無念　カオル』‥‥と言われても、断じて誘いに乗るつもりはない！

〈イトノコ〉：御剣検事、聞いたッスか？ロウ捜査官が西鳳民国から来ているみたいッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：ほう。また国際的な事件に関わっているのだろうか。彼とはあまりゆっくり話す機会が無かったからな。時間があればアイサツぐらいは行くとしよう。

〈イトノコ〉：前回の事件は大変だったッスからねー。自分も、ロウ捜査官の部下の皆さんとはあんまり話せなかったッス。

〈イトノコ〉：なんせ知ってるだけでも１００名はいるッスからねえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥全員と話そうとすれば、日が暮れてしまうだろうな。

〈イトノコ〉：正直、顔と名前を覚えるのもあきらめたッス。

〈ミツルギ〉：すべてをあきらめているではないか！

〈ロウ〉：よう。検事さん。こんなところで会うとはキグウだな。

〈ミツルギ〉：久しぶりだな、ロウ捜査官。まさか、このような飲食店で再会するとは思わなかったが。

〈ロウ〉：どっか１人で落ち着ける店を探してたら、たまたまここが目に入ったんでな。

〈ミツルギ〉：１人‥‥？キミにしてはめずらしいではないか。いつもの部下たちは一緒ではないのだろうか？

〈ロウ〉：まあな‥‥。狼子、曰く！“単独犯の気持ちを知るには、群れを離れるべし”ってな。オレだって１人になるときはあるさ。

〈ミツルギ〉：ほう？だが、それにしてはキミのテーブルにはムジュンがあるようだ。

〈ロウ〉：ハッ！検事さんお得意の“推理”ってやつかい？

〈ミツルギ〉：１人で食べるにしては、注文した料理は“大皿”ばかりで、量はどう見ても２０人以上に見えるのだが？

〈ロウ〉：うおおおッ！‥‥しまった。いつものクセでつい頼みすぎちまったようだ。よければ検事さん、少しもらってくれねえか？

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥１人で行動するのは、あまり得意ではないようだな。

〈ミクモ〉：ええ！ロウさん、またこっちに来てるんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：ああ。以前と違い、なぜか１人で行動していたようだ。

〈ミクモ〉：それは、やっぱり大人数だと忍び込むのが難しくなるからじゃないですか？大ドロボウの鉄則です！

〈ミツルギ〉：彼は“国際捜査官”だろう。‥‥なんにせよ、彼には目的があってこの国に来ているようだったな。

〈ミクモ〉：それじゃ、また現場で会うかもしれませんねー。

〈ミツルギ〉：真実を追い求める気持ちは同じでも、時にはぶつかることもある。もし現場で出会うことがあれば、戦うことになるかもしれないな。

〈ミクモ〉：いいなあ。わたしも自分を高めてくれるようなライバルが欲しいです。ハア‥‥どこかにいないかなあ。大ドロボウを追い詰める好敵手！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥逮捕されたいのなら、イトノコギリ刑事にでも頼みたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：もう！そういうことじゃないんです！

〈ミクモ〉：ようやく２月になりましたね！

〈ミツルギ〉：ああ。いよいよだな‥‥。

〈イトノコ〉：２月３日が楽しみッス！

〈イトノコ〉：ウチの警察署では、節分の豆まきをやるッス！２月３日は、タダで大豆が食べられる貴重な日ッスよ！

〈ミクモ〉：わたしは毎年、投げられる豆をどれだけ受け取れるか挑戦してるんですよ！“鬼は外、福は内、大ドロボウは盗み”って感じで！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥一番大事なことを、忘れているのではないだろうか？

〈ミクモ〉：冗談ですってば！２月３日といえば、もちろんアレですよね！

〈イトノコ〉：逆転検事２の発売日を忘れるワケないッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム‥‥ならばいいのだが。

〈ミツルギ〉：発売まであと３日。フォロワーの方々も楽しみに待っていてくれたまえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：冬場の捜査は、寒くてかなわないな‥‥。発売前に風邪を引くわけにはいかん。しっかり防寒対策をしなければな。

〈ミツルギ〉：そういえば、イトノコギリ刑事は年中同じコートを着ているが、寒くないのだろうか‥‥。ああ‥‥単に、給与が下がりすぎて買えないだけかもしれないな。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥夕食はイトノコギリ刑事でも誘うとするか。彼の食生活は、はた目から見ていても不安になる。まさか冬にそうめんを食べていることはないだろうが‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：検事局の近くに手打ちのうどん屋がある。リーズナブルな値段の割に、味も満足のいくものだ。‥‥‥‥いかん。イトノコギリ刑事を誘うとなると、ついつい麺類にばかり考えがいってしまうな。

〈ミツルギ〉:ム。さきほど発売まであと３日とつぶやいたのだが、発売日はあさって‥‥あと２日だったか。昨夜は、執務室で徹夜仕事だったのでな。日付の感覚が狂ってしまったようだ。

〈ミツルギ〉:私としたことが、つぶやきが“ムジュン”していたとは‥‥失礼した。指摘してくれたフォロワーの方、感謝する。

〈イトノコ〉：カツ丼美味いッスぅううう！今年初めてのトンカツッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事。つぶやきながら食べるのはやめたまえ！

〈イトノコ〉：自分、今年は水炊き鍋で“しらたき”ばかり食べてたッスからねー。

思わず叫んじまったッス！

〈ミクモ〉：叫んだんじゃなく、つぶやきですけどね！

〈ミツルギ〉：ソーメンではなかったが、彼の食生活はいつも危機的状況だな。

〈イトノコ〉：うう‥‥捜査で失敗するたびに、生活費がピンチになるッスからね‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：でも、いま一番危機が迫っているのは、ミツルギさんのほうなんじゃ？

ＣＭで見ましたよ！“最大のピンチ”だって。

〈イトノコ〉：自分も聞いたッスよ‥‥。いったい、どんな失敗をしちゃったッスか！

〈ミツルギ〉：キミと一緒にしないでくれたまえ！

身に覚えはないが‥‥ピンチを恐れていても仕方がないだろう。

私は、自分の信じる道を行くだけだ。

〈ミクモ〉：さっすがミツルギさん！いざとなったらわたしも力を貸しますからね。大ドロボウとして！

〈イトノコ〉：もちろん自分もッス！ピンチな時の生活費のやりくりならお任せッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥せめて、刑事として力を貸してもらえないだろうか。

〈ミクモ〉：そういえば。ミツルギさんのお父さんって、どんな人なんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥なぜ、いきなりそんな質問を？

〈ミクモ〉：さっき信楽さんに聞いたんですよ。ミツルギさんのお父さんは、すごく立派な人だったって！わたしもお父さんを尊敬してたから、ちょっと気になっちゃって。

〈ミツルギ〉：幼い頃��私にとっては、尊敬すべき相手であり‥‥目標でもあった。

〈ミクモ〉：あれ？いまは違うんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥どうだろうな。一言で説明するのは難しい。この答えを知りたいのならば、明日まで待ってくれたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：なるほど！逆転検事２に真実が隠されている‥‥と。ミツルギさんの真実、私が盗んじゃいますよ！

〈ミクモ〉：ノコちゃん！そっちの飾りは、もっと右よりでお願い！

〈イトノコ〉：こっちッスね！あ、飾りが落ちたッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：昼間から、人の執務室で何をしているのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：今日は非番ッスからね！明日の発売日に向けて、前夜祭の準備をしてるッスよ！

〈ミクモ〉：そろそろ、つぶやく時間もなくなって来ましたからね！

ミツルギさんは気にせず仕事をしててください！

〈ミツルギ〉：そう思うのなら、机の上にのぼるのはやめていただきたい。

‥‥もう少しで仕事が片付くから、それまで待っていたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：え！ミツルギさんも手伝ってくれるんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：私とて祝いたい気持ちはあるのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：助かるッス！

それじゃ時間までソファーに座って待ってるッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥‥‥廊下で遊んでいてくれないだろうか。

〈イトノコ〉：逆転検事２発売に向けて、乾杯ッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：フッ‥‥前夜祭というのも良いものだな。

〈ミクモ〉：えへへ。明日には、わたしたちのカツヤクをお見せできるんですね！

〈ミツルギ〉：うム。感慨深いモノがあるな。

〈ミクモ〉：わたしたちのつぶやきも、これで最後になるんですね‥‥ちょっと名残惜しいです。

〈ミツルギ〉：だが一週間のあいだ、このような機会をいただけて良かった。直接、感謝を伝えることが出来るのだからな。私たちのつぶやきを見ていた方々。‥‥あらためて礼を言わせていただこう。

〈イトノコ〉：まだまだ話したいことはあるッスけど、もう時間ッスからね！

〈ミクモ〉：でも、まだ前夜祭は始まったばかりですよ！なんと！このあと「逆転検事２」の開発スタッフに直接質問ができちゃうんです！

〈イトノコ〉：へえ！そんな企画があるッスか！

〈ミクモ〉：カプコンから盗んできた情報だから、確実ですよ！１８時ぐらいから始まるそうです！

〈ミツルギ〉：私としても聞きたいことはたくさんあるのだが‥‥そこはフォロワーの方々に任せるとしよう。それでは、私たちはこれで失礼する。

〈ミツルギ〉：開発スタッフに聞きたいことがあれば、どんどん追及してくれたまえ！

#ace attorney #aai2 #(no spoilers though!)#miles edgeworth #kay faraday #detective gumshoe #my posts #really hoping there isn't some egregious error in there hahaha!#also hoping someone appreciates it half as much as I do #but even if no one does this was fun to look at

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binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Text

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: chapter threeeee here it is!!! hehe thank you all for being patient for this update and thank you as always for giving this fic your love!! i start out the first part of this chapter in 3rd person which is a lil different, but i wanted to try it out! hehe i love hearing what ya thought of the chapter too! 😊

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, skz side characters, 3rd person for the first section, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of food, brief talk of gaining weight while travelling, there’s a few spoilers hidden in this one...can ya find them? ;)

CWs: blood and other wounds, shooting at a convenience store, thoughts about death and dying when in peril

Word count: 5.6k

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

Two years of pocket change and Seungmin had finally saved up enough money to afford to study abroad. It had nearly taken him life and limb, and he might’ve suffered (1) concussion from a bowl of soup being thrown at his head, but, he had done it.

With grease stains on his sneakers Seungmin traversed the long and stretching corridor of the airport terminal with his backpack strapped onto him tightly. The air smelled different here. It was fresher than he was used to--coming from a large city center--everything here felt more pristine. Outside of the tall glass windows, airplanes lifted off into the sky like massive metal giants. He couldn’t remember properly, but the last time that he must’ve been on a plane, it likely had been when his mother...

Seungmin shook the dusty and cobwebbed ideas out from his head.

No more sad thoughts.

I’m gonna like it here. He thought to himself, then clipped the little buckle to his backpack straps over his chest with a determined huff.

I’m really going to like it here.

With his phone in hand, he tried his best to decipher what the signs said above him. Mostly, they looked like a jumbled mess of symbols, but luckily he had spent some time trying to learn the language between shifts and sneaking peeks at his little dictionary under the diner counter. The whole terminal buzzed with a lovely kind of energy, and he was thrilled to get to know it better. The first wonderful thing about travelling abroad was that no one knew who he was, and he could be whoever he wanted. In this new land, no one knew him or anything about the dingy little apartment that he had lived in. No one knew about his less than honorable roommates or the debt that he had put himself under to go to college in the first place.

I could be a prince for all they know.

Seungmin liked that idea a lot.

His stomach grumbled as he passed by food stands, however he hadn’t had the chance yet to change his currency, so he knew that he would have to wait just a minute longer. Seungmin had been assigned a host family by his college, and he hoped like crazy that they would be the kind to cook for him. Seungmin had heard somewhere that kids who go on study abroad gain a ton of weight at first...but he didn’t mind. Where else would he get the chance?

There had been a host father that had sent him an email a couple weeks ago--that he promptly had to run through Google Translate--who told him that he would meet him outside the main luggage claim area after his flight landed. Seungmin had tried to look up and see if his host family were on social media, but he could find no such profile of theirs. He decided it probably was better that it was a surprise.

Seungmin lugged his two large suitcases out to the summer air of the new and strange land, and it finally hit him. Standing on the solid ground of another land thousands of miles away from his home, it was really all happening.

The landscape outside was like that of a movie scene: rolling hills and jagged mountains capped with snow, adorable little homes built into the countryside and tiny cars with horizonal license plates. The sun was warm in the cerulean sky that puffed with perfectly white clouds. On the air, the scent of flowers wafted, and he was certain that there was a lake nearby too--he had researched it. There were old men in their caps with a crook in their back, and ladies with long floral skirts and dresses with Mary Janes. Each of them had smile lines on their faces and under their eyes as if they had all lived lives well lived. There were pretty girls too with slender legs and delicate arms swaddled in light scarves.

Seungmin wouldn’t have minded getting a girlfriend on this trip. While he kept the fact to himself, Seungmin had never really done anything with a girl before outside of some awkwardly handsy kissing in middle school. Maybe this time around, he would finally get his chance: he had read somewhere that girls often like foreigners.

“Seung Min! Seung Min?” A man’s voice called.

The young college student whipped his head around in the direction of the sound, finally finding a middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair with whiskers of the same color. He had red cheeks and a large nose, and looked a bit like a character from a comic. Seungmin waved back, greeting his new father. When they met, the older man threw him into a large hug with a chuckle. He smelled a bit like Tabaco and old leather. He had a couple missing teeth, but that didn’t lessen his bright smile.

“English?” Seungmin’s host father asked.

“Yeah! I can speak English.” He returned with a welcoming grin.

“I thought it would be good for us to speak English since I don’t know your tongue and you don’t know mine...meet in the middle?”

“Thank you for coming to get me!” He said, handing the man his suitcases which were just a bit too big for the tiny trunk of the car that looked as if it had come from the 80′s. In the end, they decided to put his bags in the backseat.

The man beamed with smiling eyes. “Of course...son!”

Seungmin gave him a little bow, “Heh, thank you.”

“Get in the car! You must be hungry right? Long flight?”

“Oh yes, it was really long.”

“You will eat well here! Mother knows how to feed well. She will put meat on your bones. She did with me!” He guffawed out with hearty laughter, and Seungmin already knew that he would really like this man.

“We have a room ready for you back at home, and I will show you tomorrow how to use the buses. Okay?”

Seungmin nodded with a bit of rose to his cheeks. He found his hand wandering down to his arm which he pinched at lightly--cliché as it was. His host father coughed and the engine sputtered, then they took off away from the sounds of jet engines to the countryside which was scattered with churches with protruding steeples and all kinds of homes with red-orange roofs and perfectly symmetrical windows. Seungmin couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the window as they drove on to take in the whole scene. Never had he seen a place so beautiful or magical looking. They drove on past a crystal clear lake that stretched on and on to the base of a mountain appearing to claw at the heavens, and adorned in emerald green pines and other deciduous trees. If it was even possible, he had never seen greener grass in all his life.

“Beautiful, eh?” His host father said while tuning the radio.

“It’s amazing.” The young student said in his amazement. “Oh, do you know if there is somewhere I can change my money? I don’t have any of your money yet.”

“Ah!” The older man said with a wink. “I know of a place. I can take you there first.”

The radio hummed with a static fuzz as Seungmin’s host father messed with it, skipping over the channels, blurring the music and the talk radio all together.

Seungmin tried out the best he could to make out the words he knew, but even then he didn’t focus too hard, not when he had all this to take in.

Mad....crime....joke...violence in the South...drugs...unknown...information...hiding...red...

“Ah!” His host father called out after changing the channel once more, “I love this song!” He held his chest with an affectionate grasp. “The song of my homeland!”

Seungmin whipped his attention back, trying to listen to the song that sounded anthem-like, and was sung by what sounded like several men harmonizing. Seungmin tried to focus on the melody--it was nothing like he head heard before. It sounded very...honorable.

The small car whipped up to what looked to be a gas station on the edge of the town with one single pump and a little convenience store attached to it. In the window he read the yellow and black sign saying Currency Exchange.

“This is what you need?”

Seungmin nodded in his thanks then stretched his legs out once he exited, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Are you coming too?”

The older man shook his head and took out a pack of cigarettes. “I’ll gas the car, you go in.”

The young man gave his host father one more nod, then set fourth inhaling the immaculate summer air into his lungs. It was as if the very oxygen there held the vitality of life; he almost felt bad wasting it on himself.

The door swung open with the tiny tinkling of bells and he entered to the smell of cured meats hanging on hooks along side the dry scent of the refrigerators holding their display of soft drinks with labels that he had never seen before. He chuckled a little seeing the giant slab of meat with twine hanging from the ceiling as such.

“Free sample?” The attendant said while he picked his teeth with a toothpick. “Foreigner?” He added after looking Seungmin up and down.

“Yes, and no thank you. But, can I exchange my currency here?”

The unamused man nodded in the direction of the little kiosk in the corner of the shop. He went back to reading his tabloid where he slumped in a stool surrounded by an assortment of candy and cookies.

Seungmin picked his mother tongue first on the little screen, robotic and green, thankful to see Korean for the first time in this new place. He navigated to the options screen. Behind him, the little bells tinkled to the shop door again, followed by the sound of the attendant scrambling out of his stool, metal legs scraping the floor.

The student turned his head around in the commotion, taking in four very strange looking customers. Firstly, they were all covered in blood in one way or another, and each of them wore clothes--pajamas from the looks of it--which were shredded, torn, and blackened by something that might’ve been soot. Three men and one woman, and they all had a bit of a crazed look to their eyes. Clearly, none of them cared that they had walked into the store looking as such.

Seungmin pressed his body to the corner of the shop, as if this could make him invisible. The attendant cowered behind the counter with a series of scared sounding whimpers.

“Wh-what do you want?” He asked in his native tongue with quaking breaths.

One of the men in the group wearing a flannel with chocolate brown hair threw open one of the fridges, took out a water bottle, cracked it open, then greedily slugged the liquid down his throat.

“Pay the man, Fox.” He said to a man with pure white hair and shattered glasses.

The man with white hair and glasses nodded, digging through his pockets. The man with the flannel then proceeded to revenge the place, opening up snacks and shoving the cheesy dust into his mouth with gluttonous moans and crunching loudly with an open mouth. Had he not been doing something as unsavory as such, Seungmin thought that he was pretty handsome, and somewhat familiar. The other three simply stood and watched as he did so calmly, and surveyed the shelves themselves after a moment.

The attendant clocked Seungmin with fearful and confused eyes and Seungmin truly didn’t know what to do besides melt into the corner with the currency exchange kiosk.

A man in running clothes ran a hand through his deep brown hair, then turned to grab several first-aid supplies in his hand. Seungmin noticed that he had a horrible gash over his eye that crusted and bled into the white of his sclera. The woman approached the attendant with arms crossed over her thin camisole that was stained a number of different colors which Seungmin didn’t want to identify. He noticed that she was only wearing white socks that were nearly stained green.

“You do currency exchange right?” She said with a bold kind of confidence. “EGP?”

The attendant shook in his boots, then pointed a trembling finger at Seungmin. The young man nearly felt his heart stop. The woman had stern eyes that were bagged with exhaustion, but that didn’t make her any less intimating. While she too looked a wreck, there was something about her so cold and threatening that Seungmin felt like crumpling up into a ball. Over it all, she was startlingly beautiful too.

“Are you done?” She asked him kindly, and Seungmin struggled to get out a feeble “yes.” Of course, he hadn’t actually drawn any money out yet, but this seemed to be the best answer.

The man in running clothes dumped a large arrangement of goods on the counter with an emotionless expression: coffee drinks, shooters of alcohol, gauze and tape, Band-Aids, anti-bacterial ointment, gum, a couple lighters and toothpaste with four tooth brushes, combs, several bottles of water, sour candy, and, oddly, condoms.

The man with white hair came behind him to provide the cash to pay, and the attendant rang the odd group up with nervous glances to the man in the flannel who destroyed the store further. That man laughed maniacally as he popped open the plastic packaging to a pastry, then shoved in as of much of it as he could, smearing white cream over his lips.

“Bee!! You have to try this!! A day driving through the woods and this is fucking fantastic!” He jumped up and down like an ecstatic toddler--but this was a strange juxtaposition to all the blood staining his arms and the fabric of his flannel.

“Have some decency, Your Highness.” The woman chided, then held out her hand as the bills dispensed from the little machine.

“Your Highness?” Seungmin muttered, not really understanding why he was still in there in the first place.

“Fucking scam.” She muttered. “Is this all that you have??” She growled at the attendant.

“It’s a little thing!! What do you expect??” He stammered with hands thrown in the air as if she had pointed a gun at his head.

“F, tell Carroll to wire us when we get to Egypt. This’ll barely get us a place to stay.”

“When I get internet access, sure, I’ll try my best.” The man with white hair said with an edge to his voice, sarcasm clearly giving it a type of bite. He then took to shoving all of their goods into plastic bags since the attendant had been too fearful to do so. He slid a few spare bills onto the countertop. “This is for everything that he ate.”

“Do you have a bathroom?” The woman demanded, and the shopkeeper nodded, giving one more fearful glance to the college student.

“Is there somewhere around here to get clothes?” The man with running clothes asked.

“I-In town, a couple minutes in--”

Outside of the little store, the sound of tires screeching on cement screamed, and all four of the strangers whipped their heads in the direction. Seungmin jumped too at the sound, and held his backpack to his chest tightly as if it were some kind of safety vest.

The four strangers gravely exchanged terrified glances before throwing their bodies to the floor without a word.

“GET DOWN!” The woman screamed, and in milliseconds, the rapid-fire crack of machine gun bullets came shattering the glass of the convenience store.

Seungmin too threw all of his weight to land on his stomach on the cold linoleum floors and pressed his cheek against it while his ears rang. Tiny shards of glass pricked at his hands, but this adrenaline didn’t even let him feel the pain. He was certain that he must’ve been hyperventilating, because the room had started to spin among the relentless sounds of metal shells hitting the ground and metal shelves being upended from the force. The room filled with the smell of dozen different kinds of foods as packaging was ripped open and food and drink came spilling to the ground. The shopkeeper whimpered out loud prayers in his native tongue while he hid behind the counter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as three of the strangers whipped out hand guns from their waistbands and knelt down behind the remaining shelves to shoot back at the black van outside.

Seungmin pinched his arm with eyes shut.

He wished he hadn’t.

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He bit the words into his lip.

“Hey kid!” The man with white hair growled at him. “You okay?”

While the two of them looked nearly to be the same age, this other man with snow white hair seemed to know what he was doing, so Seungmin decided to take the smallest bit of solace in that over the deafening sound of bullets.

“I-I think so?!”

“Keep your head down!” He said with gritted teeth, then angled his gun with a squinted eye.

“Bee??? Bee?” The fourth man with the flannel cried.

“Head. Down.” She said while firing more shots.

The room filled with a thin haze, and Seungmin covered his ears with bloody fingers.

The strangers fired their guns until there was nothing left, then escaped hiding behind the shelves with heaving chests. The young man had curled up into the fetal position, mouth feeling deathly dry with hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

Seungmin didn’t know that he had gone on this trip for his life to end.

How fucking cruel fate was.

His body shook, and he clung to his bag for dear life, waiting for it all to end, and for his time to come. Seungmin would’ve thought that in the moments before he had died, he wanted to think of all the good things that had happened in his life, but, he was disappointed to find that all he could come up with was fear.

“Did you get a look at him?” One of the strangers yelled on the other side of Seungmin’s muffled ears.

“NO!” One of them barked back.

“He was wearing the crest!! The red!!” The woman called out.

The world was black behind his eyelids, but anything was better than the scene that was actually unfolding before the terrified college student. Soon, the sounds faded, and Seungmin was then really convinced that it had finally happened. This was it. He was even still scared to open his eyes.

A grip at his arm pulled him up.

“You okay? They’re gone. You kinda blacked out there for a second.” It was the woman had pulled him up to his feet.

His head spun seeing the carnage of the destroyed store, and the student became dizzier by the second.

“I-I think I’m about to black out again--” His knees felt week and his vision blurred.

“Hey! Hey!” One of the other strangers, the one with the running clothes scooped him back up and gave a light pat to his face. “You’re alright! See?”

Miraculously, Seungmin really was unscathed.

“Who-who are you? Who...who the hell were they? What the FUCK was that?”

The four of them exchanged glances once more, communicating some kind of silent understanding between all of them.

“What’s your name kid?” The white-haired one said as he put his gun back into his waistband.

“S-Seungmin?”

“Ok Seungmin, there’s a lot going on here that you really shouldn’t be aware of, and there's a lot of answers that I can’t give you, I just need to to trust me, alright?”

“O-okay?”

Now that the shop was devoid of windows, the summer breeze came blowing into the store--an odd contrast to the mess that was made all over the glass shards and food.

“You’re safe now. They’ve gone. No one can hurt you.”

“A-are you sure about that?”

“We need to get going. I don’t know why the hell they leaved when they had us cornered, but we can’t be here for long.” The man in running clothes said with a tentative bite to his lip.

The woman nodded. “You’re right Two.”

“What do we do with him though?” The man supposedly named Two said, motioning to Seungmin.

“D-do?” His eyes widened to frightful full moons. “D-do????”

“We take him with?” The man in the flannel suggested and shrugged.

The woman rolled her eyes. “You don’t call the shots on stuff like this, Your Highness.”

“H-Highness? What??” Seungmin blabbered.

The man with white hair snatched the young student’s bag from his hands. “You got a laptop in that bag of yours?”

“--H-HEY!”

He man pulled out Seungmin’s dismal Chromebook that he had also saved several months for.

“Hm. This will do.”

“I guess we don’t have any other choice...” The woman rolled her eyes. “Introductions later. They could be coming back.”

“Hey, HEY!” The shopkeeper yelled, then rose from his hiding place to look in despair at his destroyed shop, and his aging cured meat slab stuck with bullet holes on the floor.

“We’ll take care of it all. We apologize.” The man in the flannel bowed deeply.

Sunlight stung Seungmin’s strained eyes, and he realized that he had completely forgotten about his host father in his little car from the 80′s. To his surprise, the little car was nowhere to be seen.

“M-my dad??” He said under his breath, also realizing that all of his belongings had gone with the man too. All he now had left to his name was his passport, a spare set of clothes, his laptop, and a couple school journals.

“Get in.” The man named Two said while throwing open the door, but then gave him squinted wink. “Been to Egypt before?”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“This mission is fucked.” Jeongin muttered to you, voice echoing slightly in the cobblestone alley.

“Yeah, it certainly seems like it.”

You fiddled with you new blouse. It was two times as itchy as you had expected and two times as expensive, but you had been desperate. With all of the spare supplies destroyed in the bombing, you and your partner had found yourselves hopelessly empty handed.

“Carroll is gonna have our asses. Fuck...” Jeongin slicked a hand through his hair with a bandaged arm. “We can’t take that kid to Egypt with us!! We already have to be on high alert for the prince...and now this??”

Your partner threw his head back incredulously against the brick wall, then stopped to watch the rest of the group sitting outside of the café and garnering odd glances from passerby's.

“Well what the hell else to do we do??”

Jeongin shrugged, then looking to the side shamefully. “You...know what the protocol is. We can’t stay here to watch over him until someone from the agency comes...and, we’re running out of time...White Rabbit is waiting for our correspondence..”

“Absolutely not.”

The poor young kid, naïve as he was, you couldn’t but help but feel bad for him. Not only was he all alone out there as he had explained, it appeared as if his host father had made off with all of his things too. It was hard to not pity the kid.

“Y/n, you know that he’ll only drag us down. If we take him with, his life becomes our problem. If he dies, we’ll have to answer to whoever his family is and we both know that could get messy. We already have a mission: get the intel, then get the prince home. Not take that kid along with us for the joyride.”

“You’re forgetting that they’ve seen him with us now. He’s associated with us. If we leave him in the dust, there’s gonna be an innocent kid dead in a foreign land, and it’ll be our fault for letting that happen. Do you want that to happen?”

Your partner sucked at his teeth in thought for a moment, then groaned out.

“I really fucking hate this babysitting thing.”

“It’s the three of us and the two of them. The odds are still pretty much in our favor.”

“It’s still dangerous odds.” Jeongin threw his hands onto his hips, then paced the length of the alley for a small stretch. “As of now, you’re assigned to the prince. Forget about the kid, Two and I will worry about him. The prince is the priority. If shit hits the fan, don’t even think twice, take the prince and get out. Okay? You should never leave his side.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sneaky sense of pride. After all of the chaos and the uncertainty, Jeongin was really coming into his own.

From the little patio where the others were, it looked as if Chan and Seungmin were getting a long swimmingly. You assumed that it had something to do with shared trauma. Weirdly, Chan had taken to the young man like a bit of a pet. Knowing all that the prince was going through, it made sense...perhaps this also could’ve explained why he had kissed you more than once. Anyone in his position would’ve acted as frantic as such--at least, this was what you had convinced yourself.

Two sat with the two men wearing thick black sunglasses to hide his gnarly eye wound, sipping espresso. Jeongin started walking back towards the group when you grabbed at his arm.

“--Wait, I need to talk to you about one more thing?”

Your partner’s rather gaudy Hawaiian-themed shirt flapped in the breeze. “What’s that?”

You drew him in closer. “What do you make of Two? He doesn’t strike you as suspicious?”

“Suspicious? Why?”

“I-I don’t know...it’s just a feeling that I’m getting. We know next to nothing about him--”

“--But isn’t that how this goes? We’re not supposed to know things about each other? That’s the point? He’s stuck with us this far...and...”

A couple passed by the two of you with linked arms, and Jeongin stopped his thought out of distrust of the two of them listening in.

His voice lowered even further, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.” The young man nodded, then patted your scratched shoulder. You winced, and he quickly apologized. “It’s...fine that you’re suspicious. Its best for us to be, you know?”

“Expect the unexpected?”

Your partner dished out a little eyeroll, “Yeah. Something like that.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It was as if His Royal Highness Prince Chan had never seen the inside of a public airport before. Everything was just so novel to him, and he gasped out at all the little trinkets and tchotchkes.

As excited as he was, he still tried his best to keep a solid composure under his disguise: a cap, a hoodie, and thick framed sunglasses. The royal didn’t look the most non-descript, but you figured that it was better than nothing.

The young kid sulked seeing the inside of the airport once more, as he had claimed that he had just left from there. You still didn’t know what to make of him all the way, but at least you could tell that he had a good heart. While in the car he told you and your companions how he had saved up all this money to travel, studied the language and arranged to go to school here too. While all of his plans had been thwarted, at least the kid was still getting to travel...with a price on his head...but still...he was getting to travel.

Now that Jeongin had been able to contact HQ thanks to the kid’s computer, everything was arranged. Flight tickets, sleeping arrangements, supplies and Bun even knew that you were on your way. You had little desire to see that man considering how you had heard that he was one to live up to his eccentric reputation, but there was little other choice. Jeongin’s words ran through and through your head, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.”

Over it all, it was the prince who had worried you most. He was out in the open, and undoubtedly whoever those bastards were with the red crests would be close on your tail. Your neck strained with a pain that only seemed to grow stronger with every corner that you turned to ensure that no one was there. While the handsome prince liked to joke about how his life was on your hands, it was much more serious than that.

You had seen the fear in his eyes that night--it was so tangible that you could practically hold in your hands. He was a man terrified of death, and he knew that he had little control over it. You had control over it, but you knew that you could only stretch yourself so far.

Your group of five neared your gate in the international terminal lined with several dozen different kinds of multi-colored flags. You situated yourself between Two and the Prince on one of the thin teal chairs with flattened cushions. Chan tapped his hands on this knees impatiently as he inspected the place.

“Kind of exciting isn’t it?” He said with a tiny grin.

“What?” You moved to look at him with his obscured features. “Exciting?”

“Yeah, you know, travelling together. It kind of feels like an adventure. I mean, they’ve got a gun to our heads, but at least we’re together right?”

You scoffed, simply amused at how he had taken the severity out of the situation. It was clear that this prince knew little about the concept of perspective.

“I’m not following.”

“I get that...we need to be careful, but who said that we can’t, say, enjoy the journey?”

“You’re saying that you want us to have fun while we’re running for our lives?”

The prince smiled. “You know that I like having fun. That and...I’m just trying to be optimistic.” Under his cap, he slicked his brown strands back. “The three of you seem to be so tense all the time. Obviously, that can’t be good for your health--”

You cracked out with laughter. “You’re being ludicrous, Your Highness. We have to be on high alert at all times--”

“I said, that you could call me Chan, remember?” He rather languidly spread out his legs in his seat, removing his glasses for moment. “How about, when we go to Egypt, I take you out somewhere nice to eat? We can relax, talk, get to know eachother more--”

You raised your hand up to silence him. “--If this is just a ploy to get me alone, I politely rescind the offer. Here I was thinking that you were concerned about all three of us...”

“--I am!” Chan quickly piped, “I-I’ll take you all out for dinner! But...but...you’ll have to allow me to take you out for drink then. Just the two of us. I still hold to my word of wanting to get to know you.”

The prince’s face was puffed and bloated, and scraped with little pink and red cuts, but nothing stopped him from pulling out his signature charming and persuasive grin.

“Try to kiss me again, and I won’t hesitate. You might be royalty but I don’t ca--”

“--Hmmm no promises.” Chan then cut in, his grin turned even more indulgent while you watched him inspect your frame in that god-awful scratchy blouse.

Next to you, Two let out a particularly amused sounding scoff of a laugh.

“Forward as ever, Your Highness.” Jeongin deadpanned, then buried his nose in his coffee and newspaper once again. He hadn’t gotten to finish doing so earlier.

Seungmin, the young student stifled his own laughter which then gradually got louder and louder. “I can’t fucking believe this. Me. Kim Seungmin, the most normal-ass person in the whole world with you four: a fucking prince, secret agents...and now we’re going to Egypt??? Egypt???”

“Why does that sound like the set up to a shitty joke?” Two popped a bubble he had blown with the gum from the convenience store. Turns out he actually had a bit of a “gum habit” as he called it.

“Settle down kid.” Jeongin said without his eyes leaving his paper. “You’ll make a scene.”

The prince yawned, sliding his sunglasses back on.

“I never really did end up getting as much sleep as I would’ve liked.” If you could’ve seen his eyes, you would’ve then seen him eye your shoulder. “May I?” he politely asked.

Rather than giving him an answer, you rolled your head around as if to say do I need to?

Chan let out a happy little hum after resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling in slightly.

You met your partner’s side eye, and he repeated for you, I really fucking hate this babysitting thing.

“Thank you Bee.” Chan softly muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I really do owe you everything.” He was careful at first, but he reached out his hand to rest it atop of yours. While the action made you twitch at first, you remembered how the same action had calmed him in the van when you had escaped the gala.

You told yourself that you were just being nice.

The young kid pulled out a journal from his backpack and started scribbling something, Two popped a bubble, snapping it on his unnaturally white teeth, and Jeongin sipped at his coffee.

This really was the set up to a shitty joke.

A woman cleared her throat over the intercom and announced, Flight C1180 to Cairo will be boarding in one hour. Thank you for flying with us today.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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hakasims · 4 years ago

Text

The Most In-depth Analysis of Luca Marinelli’s Characters You’ll Ever Need

You’d think I was done with classifications, but I’m not! There’s so much more I can say about Luca Marinelli’s oeuvre and his magnificent roster of characters. And yes, I’ve made this post before where I highlighted specific tropes that show up in a lot of his movies, but that was surface-level shit. This is an actual exploration of what makes a Luca Marinelli character besides being a kinky little whore. And don’t worry, it’s still in that user-friendly question-answer format because I love you.

Here’s the thing: Luca is a chameleon but he also has a type, and this type is:

✨ a (likely) queer repressed addict with daddy issues ✨

That’s the skeleton. Let’s see how many of his major roles possess that skeleton at all and what flavors they add to the picture.

Disclaimer: I excluded characters with little screen time and Joseph from Mary of Nazareth because he doesn’t deserve rights. Also, instead of going in the boring chronological order, I’m gonna start with the least typical character for Luca and end with the crème de la crème. The results may not surprise you.

Nicky (The Old Guard)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? No.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? I know we’re all deeply affected by our shitty father figures but I would genuinely question Nicky’s sanity if he were still on that shit at the ripe age of 951. A little tip for daddy-hating immortals out there: just do what Angel did and kill your shitty dad. Problem solved.

Is he violent? Despite doling out tons of violence, he doesn’t have a violent nature and seems uninterested in hating his enemy or delivering retribution.

Does he need a good night sleep? I’m sure nothing helps one sleep better than a Joe-shaped big spoon.

Does he need a good cry? Doesn’t seem like it.

Flavors: A perfect immortal warrior bean in a healthy relationship.

Conclusion: Ironically but unsurprisingly, Nicky is the least Luca-like character.

Guido (Tutti i santi giorni)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so but who knows? If someone told me he’s demisexual, I’d believe it.

Is he repressed? The movie may disagree, but I say yes, obviously.

Does he have an addiction? Not unless you count his romantic relationship.

Does he have daddy issues? His family is so supportive and wholesome it’s almost parodic.

Is he violent? He’s the opposite of a toxic macho dude, but then he has a violent outburst out of nowhere because the movie is bad.

Does he need a good night sleep? He doesn’t like sleeping at night.

Does he need a good cry? Naturally.

Flavors: An adorkable awkward nerd with flowery speech.

Conclusion: I can forgive straightness and wholesomeness but I can’t forgive lack of complexity.

Martin (Martin Eden)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Yes.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? Not to my knowledge.

Is he violent? When he deems it necessary to be.

Does he need a good night sleep? Sure.

Does he need a good cry? Cry your little heart out, Martin!

Flavors: An arrogant, pretentious, politically confused writer.

Conclusion: A little too straight for your typical Luca, but he makes up for it with being complex and complicated.

Loris (Il mondo fino in fondo)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? So fucking repressed!

Does he have an addiction? Nothing beyond his savior complex.

Does he have daddy issues? He has a shitty dad he’s spent his whole life trying to please, and also his mommy left, so like yeah, obviously.

Is he violent? He has his straight dude moments.

Does he need a good night sleep? Definitely.

Does he need a good cry? Oh yeah, let him cry, it’s good for him.

Flavors: A casually homophobic mother hen.

Conclusion: Ruined by heterosexual agenda.

Lui (Ricordi?)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Very.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? A big sack of them.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? Oh yes. To sleep, perchance to dream about anything other than his traumatic memories.

Does he need a good cry? So much.

Flavors: Up-his-butt and pensive.

Conclusion: Leave it to Luca to take a guy who would be an absolute nightmare in real life and turn him into someone I actually want to watch for two hours and see happy by the end.

Gabriele (Waves)

Is he queer? There’s evidence he might be gay.

Is he repressed? I’d bet on it.

Does he have an addiction? Doesn’t seem like it.

Does he have daddy issues? Nobody knows.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? He probably will with how the movie ended.

Does he need a good cry? At least one.

Flavors: A sweet introverted guy who loves boats.

Conclusion: While not particularly complex, Gabriele has layers and nuances. Also give him a big muscular daddy.

Fabrizio (Fabrizio de André - Principe libero)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? He was before music became his only career.

Does he have an addiction? Alcohol, cigarettes, sex, cheating - take your pick.

Does he have daddy issues? Not as bad as some of the other guys here but he’s heard his fair share of “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” speeches.

Is he violent? He’s soft.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Does he need a good cry? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Flavors: Fabrizio de André is the flavor.

Conclusion: Even though it’s a biopic, there are still many Luca-isms there. He’s just that kind of actor.

Milton (Una questione privata)

Is he queer? It could be argued that he is bisexual.

Is he repressed? Do you even need to ask?

Does he have an addiction? About half of the breaths he takes are filled with cigarette smoke.

Does he have daddy issues? He seems to have a good and loving relationship with both his parents.

Is he violent? Not by nature.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yep.

Does he need a good cry? He certainly does.

Flavors: A repressed bisexual feeling powerless in a horrible world.

Conclusion: This is proof that Luca can carry a whole entire movie on his sexy shoulders, alone. Also Milton needs a safe and loving triad.

Mattia (La solitudine dei numeri primi)

Is he queer? I personally read him as asexual. Though assigning asexuality to characters who are traumatized is a dangerous path so don’t quote me on this, okay?

Is he repressed? Just the most repressed.

Does he have an addiction? It’s debatable whether self-harm and eating disorders can be considered addictions, but they’re part of his character, and I thought you should know.

Does he have daddy issues? His parents played their part in messing him up which then led to the big thing that really messed him up, though other than that his dad is barely a presence.

Is he violent? Not at all.

Does he need a good night sleep? At least 17 hours.

Does he need a good cry? Oh, so much. He needs all the cry.

Flavors: A quiet genius with lots of guilt.

Conclusion: Can you believe this was his first film role? Our boy is talented af!

Fabio (Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? You could argue that he is repressed by being limited in his place in social hierarchy.

Does he have an addiction? Amazingly enough, no. He has fixations, though.

Does he have daddy issues? Thinking his father was a loser and not wanting to end up like him is textbook stuff.

Is he violent? Very.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes please.

Does he need a good cry? He needs to purge his soul from all the bottled up stuff.

Flavors: A campy psycho.

Conclusion: Luca’s most iconic character, so of course he scored high on the list.

Paolo (Il padre d’Italia)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? I can’t even start listing all the ways in which he’s repressed.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes a lot.

Does he have daddy issues? His issues are more of a mommy variety.

Is he violent? Not in the slightest.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s the poster boy for needing a good night sleep.

Does he need a good cry? A good cry, a good weep, a good sob, a good bawl, *googles more synonyms* a good wail, a good squall...

Flavors: A self-loathing gay orphan in need of some life goodness.

Conclusion: What can I say about Paolo that all of you aren’t already thinking? Decent film, great character, excellent portrayal.

Mickey (Die Pfeiler der Macht)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? It’s Victorian England, you guys.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes casually but other than that... eh. And don’t tell me he has sex addiction. He uses his body strategically.

Does he have daddy issues? If what he has isn’t daddy issues, I don’t know what is.

Is he violent? He’s got tons of bottled up aggression.

Does he need a good night sleep? It would be great if he could use the day’s darkest hours for sleeping.

Does he need a good cry? Undeniably.

Flavors: A conniving slut extraordinaire.

Conclusion: A major player in the book (says me who managed like 50 pages), Mickey Miranda was turned into such a nothing character in the miniseries that they needed a truly extraordinary actor to make him memorable. And guess what, Luca delivered.

Cesare (Non essere cattivo)

Is he queer? Not explicitly, but come on.

Is he repressed? Lethally.

Does he have an addiction? He’s an addiction textbook.

Does he have daddy issues? *Jake Peralta voice* Yeah, the guy without a daddy is the one with daddy issues. Explain that logic.

Is he violent? Oh yeah, he’s a rabid little trash goblin.

Does he need a good night sleep? So much.

Does he need a good cry? He’s had his fair share of good cries, but he could always use more.

Flavors: A aimless junkie.

Conclusion: The quintessential Luca. Beautiful.

Primo (Trust)

Is he queer? Listen, just because we don’t see him fuck a dude on screen it doesn’t mean he isn’t a motherfluffing queer icon. It’s not subtext; it’s TEXT.

Is he repressed? Where do I even fucking start?

Does he have an addiction? Oh yeah. And a coke nail to prove it.

Does he have daddy issues? I would need a whole separate post to unpack his daddy issues.

Is he violent? So very violent.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes, please. On an actual bed in an actual bedroom.

Does he need a good cry? You can just tell.

Flavors: A ruthless criminal with a strong mafia boss potential.

Conclusion: The pièce de résistance of the Luca Marinelli filmography. Not only does he tick every box, he gets bonus points for the excellent wardrobe choices that emphasize Luca’s best features. Primo Nizzuto is everything great you want from Luca, except singing. (Though in my headcanon that whole white car in a snowstorm monologue was a musical number.)

#luca marinelli #the old guard #tutti i santi giorni #martin eden #il mondo fino in fondo #ricordi?#waves 2012 #fabrizio de andré - principe libero #una questione privata #la solitudine dei numeri primi #lo chiamavano jeeg robot #il padre d'italia #die pfeiler der macht #non essere cattivo #trust fx

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jacquihyde · 3 years ago

Text

Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 3: The Only Ones Left In The World

Bernard had his own room at Tim’s apartment, but he had fallen asleep in Tim’s own room the first night that he moved in and hadn’t gone back since. It had gotten to the point that Tim’s bed felt empty without him.

It was empty now. Bernard was at Gotham University studying while Tim continued to investigate the strange events occurring on campus. Scouring social media had told him that there had been a few more sightings of shadows, strange feelings, even apparitions. At least one person had ended up with a handprint mark like Mikaela’s somewhere on their body.

Tim put a hand to his own neck, imagining it. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. Not leave a lasting scar cold.

Tim spotted movement at the door and glanced up, seeing Bernard silhouetted in the yellow light spilling out of the hallway. “Hey,” he said.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” Tim said.

Bernard groaned. “I could not do those readings anymore.” He flopped dramatically onto the bed, and Tim tried not to flinch. “What are you up to?”

Tim shuffled over slightly. “You remember the thing with Mikaela?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re looking into that?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Not getting much, though. Have you seen anything weird happening on campus?”

Bernard leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, there were some people LARPing The Princess Bride in front of the library when I was leaving. That was a little strange.”

Tim grinned. “Weird like supernatural weird.”

Bernard shrugged. “I mean, there’s always rumors,” he said. “Some people think there are secret tunnels under the school, but I think that pretty much every college has that rumor. And the frats can get kind of crazy with hazing, they’re always telling stories...oh, speaking of frats.”

“This can’t be good.”

Bernard laughed. “I got invited to an Omega Chi Omega party on Friday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Weren’t you telling me that Omega Chi Omega is kind of insane?”

“Yeah, and I want to experience it. Come on, it’s college. I like parties.” Bernard leaned closer to Tim. “And I like you.”

Tim sat up straighter. “You said it was rush week,” he said. “Are you pledging?”

“Fuck no,” Bernard said. “But I think it’s funny that I got invited to this party like they thought I was going to.” He shot a questioning glance at Tim’s laptop. “Hey, don’t you usually work downstairs?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m tired.”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

Tim was tired. Among other things. “Yes,” he said. He turned back to his laptop. “Um, do you -”

“Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

Tim knew without having to look that he’d started bleeding again. “Oh,” he said, glancing down anyway. A steadily-growing spot of bright red had appeared on his side, standing out against his light gray shirt. “Um, I was stabbed.”

Bernard was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you were stabbed?”

“Lightly stabbed,” Tim said.

“Oh, lightly stabbed. That’s so much better.”

“It is, though!” Tim said. “It didn’t hit anything vital. I won’t even need stitches.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bernard said. “Where do you keep first aid kits, again? I know you have at least twelve stashed around here.”

Tim sighed. He knew when to give up. “There’s one under the bed.”

Bernard disappeared underneath the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“As you wish,” Tim said. He heard Bernard laugh and couldn’t help but smile. It turned into a pained hiss as he twisted to remove his t-shirt.

“Shit,” Bernard said. “Here, let me…” Tim heard a thunk as he tossed the first aid kit onto the bed, then Bernard’s hands were on his skin, helping him take off the shirt. Tim could feel Bernard’s stare at the wound like it was another scar. “Did you even do anything to treat it?”

“I did!” Tim protested weakly.

“Like what? What did you do?”

“Waited for it to stop bleeding and then tried not to move,” Tim admitted.

Bernard glared at him. “Wrong answer.”

“I promise that it had stopped bleeding,” Tim said. “I don’t know what happened.” Bernard took out his phone, typing something. “What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Googling how to treat a stab wound,” Bernard said.

“Wow,” Tim said. “I’m glad I’m in such safe hands.”

“Sorry that my neuroscience homework didn’t prepare me for treating my boyfriend’s ‘light stab wound’,” Bernard said. “Okay, so this is going to sting a bit.”

Tim braced himself, but still winced at the feeling of antiseptic against his skin. “It’s not that deep,” Bernard said. “And it’s pretty clean, considering...what you do. Who was it, anyway? It wasn’t…”

“It was not one of my brothers,” Tim affirmed. “We’re past that. Um, it was a gang fight that I got in the middle of. Red Hood went after them, B made me go home.”

“Good,” Bernard said. The cold of the antiseptic was gone, followed by mild pressure. “So you’ve been doing this for how long?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Since I was thirteen,” Tim said.

“Hm,” Bernard said. “And how many stab wounds have you had?”

His tone was humorous, but Bernard would have to be a stranger for Tim not to notice the darker tone lurking underneath his words. “Not too many, I promise,” Tim said.

“I think we might have different definitions of ‘not too many’.”

Bernard brushed his fingers against another scar on Tim’s abdomen, then another, then another. Tim caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m okay,” he murmured.

Bernard finally finished applying the bandages and sat back up, his lips just a breath away from Tim’s. “I know you are,” he said softly.

Tim leaned in to kiss him, and they didn’t talk for a while after that.

Apparently Bernard was serious about the frat party. Tim didn’t quite believe him until they were on Gotham U’s campus, standing in front of a brightly lit house. Loud music and laughter spilled out of the open windows and door. It looked like something out of a bad movie. He turned to Bernard to tell him that when suddenly the door slammed open, two guys dashing outside. They stopped short upon seeing Bernard and Tim. “Bernard!” one yelled, then turned to his friend. “This is the guy I was telling you about. You know, my chem lab partner. Super cool.”

“Oh, you’re Bernard,” the other dude said. He was taller, a Gotham University cap sitting sideways on his head. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Chad.” Of course it is, Tim thought.

“Nice to meet you too. And nice seeing you, Zac,” Bernard said. “Um, this is my boyfriend Tim.”

Zac narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look really familiar.”

“Um,” Tim said.

“Holy shit, you’re Tim Drake-Wayne,” Chad interrupted. He looked over at Zac. “Did you know he was dating Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Dude, no,” Zac said. “That’s so cool, bro.”

“Um, thanks,” Bernard said. “I think so too. I think we’re going to head inside -”

“Oh!” Chad said. “Before you go in, just make sure to steer clear of the basement. We’ve locked it up for a reason, you know?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “...Okay,” he said. He took Tim’s hand and the two of them headed into the house. They almost immediately met crowds of people — sitting on the stairs, dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen. Bernard had told him that Omega Chi Omega threw some of the biggest parties on campus. Tim definitely believed him.

“They were interesting,” Tim said.

“Who, Zac and Chad?” Bernard said. “Yeah, sorry about them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim said. “I’m glad I could boost your popularity.”

Bernard laughed. Tim glanced around at the students surrounding them. That could have been me, he thought. If he had never witnessed Dick’s parents’ deaths. If Jason had never gone to Ethiopia. If Tim hadn’t dropped out of Ivy Town U. If, if, if.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bernard asked.

Tim glanced over at him. To be heard, he would either have to yell or get a whisper’s breath away from Bernard. He much preferred the latter. “It’s kind of a lot,” he said.

He didn’t explain, but he didn’t need to. “Do you want to leave?" Bernard asked. "Because we can. It's no big deal.”

Tim shook his head. “No, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

Bernard smiled. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay.” He wanted to kiss him. It took him a moment to remember that that was something that he could do now, whenever he wanted. And so he did. He felt Bernard’s grin against his lips, his arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They were surrounded by people, and yet Tim felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Tim?”

The illusion disappeared as instantly as it had taken shape. Tim was suddenly aware of the people surrounding him, the loud music and chatter. And there, standing behind him, was Steph. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to see her face. But he knew exactly who she was, exactly where she was. It would be impossible for him not to.

Tim forced himself to turn around, and sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t read her expression. He could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened. The LED lights lining the room faded from blue to purple. Steph would like that, he thought dimly.

He realized that she was speaking and forced himself to tune back in. “...don’t think we’ve met,” she was saying to Bernard. Tim unconsciously found himself squeezing Bernard’s hand. He wasn’t sure of when he’d taken hold of it. Part of him wanted to let go, but the rest of him knew that he couldn’t.

Bernard squeezed back. “Um, I’m Bernard.”

Steph smiled slightly. “Oh, I remember Tim talking about you! I’m Stephanie.”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You’re real? Back in high school I thought that Tim was making you up.”

Steph laughed, and Tim took advantage of her split second distraction to meet Bernard’s gaze. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what emotion was behind his own eyes — something along the lines of panic, probably — but Bernard got the hint. “Um, I’m going to go get drinks,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Tim shook his head. Bernard squeezed his hand once more and then disappeared into the crowd. Tim turned to Steph, acutely aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to remember some of the grounding techniques that Jaine had taught him. Five things he could see — the purple lights, the car passing by outside the window, the lock on the basement door…

“So are you going to talk, or should I?” Steph said.

Tim wrenched his attention back to her. “I don’t know what to say,” he said weakly.

Steph shrugged. “I can talk, if you want,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted out.

Steph frowned. “You’re...sorry,” she repeated. “For what?”

“I…” Tim swallowed hard. “You know.”

“Tim.” Steph took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. Seriously.”

“I should have told you.”

Steph shook her head. “You didn’t have to. That was up to you.” She looked off in the direction that Bernard had gone. “I do remember you talking about him in high school, you know,” she said. “You always really liked him.”

“I didn’t know what it was that I was feeling,” Tim said. “I didn’t even register it until...until the whole cult thing.”

Steph let out a breath. “God, of course it was the cult thing. That’s exactly the kind of weird shit you would get into.”

Tim laughed. He could feel the weight sliding off his shoulders as Steph pulled him into a hug. “I did love you, you know,” he whispered. “I still do.”

She held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”

Tim leaned his head against her shoulder, opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the basement door behind her. The door was wide open, the padlock hanging uselessly from the doorknob. He barely had time to register it before the world went black.

He stumbled backwards, pulling away from Steph. She kept a hold on his arm amidst the screams from the other partygoers. “What the hell?” she yelled, her mouth close to his ear. “Did a fuse blow or something?”

Tim tried to scan the room, but his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “I don’t think…”

The LED lights flashed back on — blue, then purple, then pink. There was a shriek coming from somewhere to Tim’s left, not tinged with laughter or exhilaration as the earlier yells had been, but infused with terror. He didn’t have to say a word. Steph was already moving, pulling him with her.

The crowd had grown too thick to easily maneuver through, but the two of them were smaller enough than most of the frat boys that they could form a path. Even then, Tim could only catch fleeting glimpses of the body lying still on the ground, the guy's skin covered in frost and handprints. His eyes were open, but glazed over, unresponsive.

Tim had barely managed to process the image in front of him before he was hearing more screaming, this time from another corner of the room. He didn’t even have to look to know that there was another comatose body frozen on the floor.

He turned to Steph. “Get everyone out,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “What about you?”

“I need to check something out,” he said.

“So you’re going to go towards whatever’s causing this?” she said. “Tim Drake, you would be the first to die in a horror movie.”

“I know,” Tim said. Without another word he moved away, shoving through the crowd towards the basement door. Everyone was too distracted to notice him approaching the forbidden location. Some were still gathered around the bodies, but most had figured out that escape was their best option.

“Tim!”

Tim turned away from the door, and there was Bernard, barely visible through the fleeing crowds. He made eye contact with him, feeling the screaming, the running footsteps, the heat of the crowd surrounding them fade away. The only ones left in the world.

Tim stepped backwards, closing the basement door behind him. The last thing he saw was Bernard’s stricken face, a word that Tim never got to hear still hanging on his lips.

It was even darker in the basement. Windows lined the tops of the walls, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside stream in. Tim kept a hand on the wall as he carefully navigated the stairs. It looked like the room hadn’t been renovated, or even cleaned, in decades. Tim could just barely make out the faded posters lining the room, and, surrounding them, the graffiti. It looked as if everyone who had ever been a part of Omega Chi Omega had signed these walls. Some deep-set instinct told Tim to stop touching them.

The only furniture was the shelves lining the walls. They were little more than worn-out planks of wood, looking as though they were going to give out at any moment. Most of them were unused, with only a few places throughout the room, seemingly random, having objects placed upon them. He approached the closest, a folded-up Gotham University Nighthawks jersey. He could just barely make out a name and a number — Rivers, 11. Amidst the scramble of words written on the wall, Tim could read one in particular, written deliberately above where the jersey was lying. “Logan Rivers, 2024,” he murmured aloud.

He made his way around the room, investigating each shelf. There was a black ring (David Choi, 2009), a faded and empty journal (Jamie Collins, 1978), a torn red tie (Alec Samuel, 1994). Tim wondered idly if it was some kind of hall of fame or something. It obviously wasn’t just anyone who got to leave an artifact down here.

At the far end of the room, there was a silver locket, so small and unassuming that Tim almost completely missed it. “Sam Kingston, 1985,” he read. His hand hovered above the locket, but he didn’t touch it. Something felt sacred about it, too personal for him to see.

There was a creak from the stairs, and Tim whirled around, his hand flying to his waist for a weapon that didn’t exist. One of the bros — Chad — was standing in the shadows engulfing the last stair. “Hey,” Tim said. “Sorry, I know you said not to come down here, but I got kind of pushed down in the whole chaos upstairs. I’ll leave.”

Chad said nothing, just continued to stare at him. Tim’s heart leaped into his throat. “Chad?”

Tim didn’t even see him move. One moment Chad was on the stairs, the next he was leaping at him, hands outstretched. Tim barely managed to leap aside, and even then, Chad was close enough for him to feel the cold wafting off of his skin. “Shit,” Tim whispered as Chad turned back around to face him. His skin had gone pale, and Tim could see the edges of a frost-encrusted handprint peering out of his collar. “Chad, this isn’t you.”

Chad charged him again. Tim drove him back with an elbow to the stomach, jumping out of the way of his hands. He had no clue how this thing spread, but he could tell that it wasn’t anything he wanted to take any chances on. It affects different people in different ways, he thought, shoving Chad back again. Chad’s back hit the shelves and he stumbled as the wood gave a dangerous creak. Mikaela was fine, just shaken. The people outside were knocked out. Chad… It was like he was possessed. He was faster than before. Much stronger than he should have been. And there was nothing, nothing at all, left behind his eyes.

Tim ran for the stairs. He knew that Chad was right behind him, but if he timed it right…

He vaulted over the railing. Chad was going too fast to stop himself and slammed right into it. Tim watched as he took one step, then two, then collapsed onto the ground, his soulless eyes slowly shutting.

Tim jumped down off of the stairs, approaching Chad as quietly as possible. The color was slowly returning to his skin, but the handprint still stood out, stark-white and frozen. He could see the fight going out of him. Hopefully, he would be back to normal, if a little disoriented, by the time he woke up.

Tim maneuvered out of one of the basement windows, just wide enough for him to fit through. Someone had called the cops, and the outside of the frat house was bathed in red and blue light. Tim slipped past the crowds onto the sidewalk, away from where the officers were roaming.

“Tim!”

He whirled around, and there was Bernard, getting to his feet from where he was sitting on the curb. Tim rushed over to him. “What the hell happened in there?” Bernard asked.

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was like what happened to Mikaela, but on a whole other level.” He glanced around. “Where did Steph go?”

“She was talking to the cops, last I saw her,” Bernard said. His voice dropped lower. “You didn’t tell me that you dated Spoiler.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Bernard said. “I figured it out.”

Tim wished he could go back in time and tell his thirteen-year-old self all about the guy he would eventually end up dating. “Well. You were right,” he said.

Bernard laughed, but it seemed subdued. Tim reached out, grasping his hand again. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Bernard nodded. “Yeah. It’s just kind of hitting me that I’m dating a vigilante. When you went down to the basement...it kind of freaked me out. Same as when you got stabbed the other day. Not only because I don’t want you to get hurt, but because…” He stopped suddenly. “This is stupid.”

Tim shook his head. “No, what is it?”

Bernard sighed. “I’m just never going to really know that part of your life, am I?” Tim stared at him, and Bernard begrudgingly continued. “It’s like...you looked right at me after everything went crazy tonight. And you didn’t say anything, you just ran right into danger without saying a word. And the whole stabbing thing, you were going to hide that from me. And I get it. I really do. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Tim swallowed hard. “I’m…” he started to say.

Bernard cut him off. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad. It was just a weird night and everything’s kind of hitting me all at once.” He looked up over Tim’s head at the dispersing crowds behind them. “We should head home. I don’t want to get caught up in whatever happens here next.”

Tim couldn’t get Bernard’s words out of his head. He couldn’t tell what Bernard was thinking either, and it haunted him, running as a constant undercurrent in his mind. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and of course that someone ended up being Jaine.

“You have something to say,” she told him. She couldn’t even see his face — she was at her desk while Tim was turned away from her, giving Batman the axolotl bite-sized pieces of earthworm. “I can always tell with you.”

Tim nodded. “Something happened the other day,” he said, pushing past the reluctance. Batman finished the last piece of earthworm and turned to look at him with unblinking eyes. “That’s all I’ve got,” Tim told him. Batman, predictably, did not respond.

“Was it a Robin thing or a Tim Drake thing?” Jaine asked.

“Sort of both.” Tim sat back down. “Bernard and I were at this party…” He slowly told her about the Omega Chi Omega incident, from the moment that Steph caught him and Bernard to their conversation after Tim left the basement. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he finished quietly, barely able to be heard over Batman’s filter bubbling.

Jaine nodded. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

“Maybe not guilty,” Tim said. “Except…” He sighed. “I want him to be a part of my life,” he said. “Every bit of it. Even the darker parts. But I don’t know how to do that.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jaine asked. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both,” Tim said. “I think. I don’t really know how to define it. I’m just not used to opening up to people like that. Even if I want to, the words get stuck in my throat. And mixing that with what I’m letting him into…”

Jaine nodded. “It’s hard,” she said. “He knows Tim, and he knows Robin. But knowing both, that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Different. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible.”

“But you know that it is,” Jaine pointed out. “And he’d tell you that too.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That and a million other things.”

“So what are you going to tell him?” Jaine asked.

Tim thought about it, and then spoke.

At the end of the night, Robin was perched on his own windowsill, peering in through the window. Bernard was in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Light streamed in from the hallway behind him, making him look as if he was made of gold. Tim knocked on the window lightly and Bernard glanced up. He smiled slightly when he saw Tim outside, getting up to unlock the window.

“This is a surprise,” Bernard said as he slid the window open. “There’s a perfectly good entrance downstairs.”

“I needed to talk to you,” Tim said. “And I didn’t want to wait.” Bernard frowned, and Tim instantly felt guilty. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just about the other day at the party.”

“Oh,” Bernard said. “I told you, I’m not mad about it -”

“I know you’re not,” Tim said. “There are just some things that I want to say.”

Bernard nodded. “Okay,” he said. Tim was silent, and Bernard raised his eyebrows. “So are you going to talk, or…”

“I am, I just...ugh. I literally rehearsed this. Why is it so hard?”

“You rehearsed it?” Bernard repeated.

“I don’t want to get this wrong,” Tim said. “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

Bernard nodded. “Like, dating a guy?”

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It’s not just about that. I’ve never dated someone who knows about every side of me who isn’t a vigilante themselves. And I want to say that that’s why I instinctively want to hide things from you. It’s not like the ‘because I love you’ thing -” He realized what he had said and cut himself off, his cheeks flushing bright red. Bernard stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Tim forced himself to keep talking. “That’s not what I want it to be like. But I do want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, not again, not ever. But that’s...that’s not the whole truth. I don’t really know how to open up. I’m trying to learn how, but it’s never been something that I’ve ever been good at, not ever. And you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Bernard stepped closer to him. When he spoke, their lips almost brushed together. “You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that,” Tim replied. “I’m just not great at making myself believe it.”

“You’re getting better,” Bernard said. “You’re talking to me now, right?” He reached up, his hands framing the sides of Tim’s face. “Can I?” he said. Tim nodded, and Bernard gently peeled the mask away from Tim’s eyes. He leaned forwards, their foreheads brushing together.

“What was that for?” Tim asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Bernard said. He moved just enough for their lips to brush together, then pulled away. “I love you too, you know,” he whispered.

Tim moved his hands up to cover Bernard’s. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bernard’s brows knit together. “For...”

Tim shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say about Bernard, so many words that he could say, and yet his mind kept coming up blank. “Just for existing,” he finally said. It was the closest he could come to containing it all.

#dc comics #batfam #tim drake #bernard dowd #aj writes #fic rec

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sanchoyo · 3 years ago

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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #me on the first post:#its not a liveblog!#me this time: it kinda is. but not in the same format as my tmm one #i like doing one post for a handful of eps bc it saves time #and crowds my blog less #and also i just like talking abt what im watching lol #dp thoughts

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venomous--fics · 4 years ago

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Summary: A kind stranger attempts to help you move stuff into your new apartment, but it doesn't go so smoothly.

a/n: credit to whoever made the gif. I had to get it off google because my internet was being really spotty for some reason.

Unpacking the small U-haul was taking way longer than you anticipated. More boxes were scattered on the pavement than there were in your apartment. Strangers would stare and even whisper amongst themselves as they passed, and each time you sarcastically smiled and waved.

"Thanks, San Francisco. Very helpful."

Little did you know, someone was peering at you from their window, contemplating whether or not to help.

"They look frustrated. We should stay out of their way." Eddie said, quickly closing his window curtain.

"They're frustrated because they need help." Venom replied.

"How would you know?"

"I've seen movies, Eddie. We got out, help them, and then we fall in-"

"No. Absolutely not, man. That's Hollywood. This is..." Eddie paused for a moment, "This is low budget Hollywood. That crap doesn't work here."

Venom was quiet for a moment before replying, "It might."

"It doesn't."

"Okay, and? We can help them and be friends. We need friends, Eddie. We are kind of sad."

"We're not....Speak for yourself."

"You're sad, Eddie. Very sad. It's a little pathetic, really."

"Stop talking."

"You cried while watching Mamma Mia."

"I- It was- It was a very touching musical. Leave me alone."

"Are we going to help?"

"I guess." Eddie sighed, "Beats getting picked on about my movie choices."

You had set another box down on the sidewalk and took in a deep breath. The U-Haul was almost empty, but for now, you were going to focus on taking boxes up to your apartment. The afternoon was beginning to fade into evening territory, and you/d be damned if you were out and about once it was dark.

You were about to pick up a stack of two boxes when you heard a voice. You stood up straight and your eyes landed on a rather scruffy looking man. You turned and looked behind you, thinking he was referring to someone behind you. With nobody behind you, you turned around and looked at the man once more.

"Hi, I'm Eddie. I- Uh, I live up there," he pointed to a closed window at the top floor.

You followed his gesture and noted the window at the top. You looked at his face again and he turned back to you.

"Just came out here to see if you needed any help." He awkwardly fiddled with the ends of his jacket sleeves, "Well, I mean I came out to help."

You scoffed a little bit before you walked back to some of your stuff, "You must've watched me struggle and thought I was pathetic." You picked up an antique looking framed painting, "Thank you, but no thanks."

The painting was a little larger than you remembered, and a little heavier. You tried to get a good grip on it, and Eddie being the gentleman he is, came over and put his hands on the other side of the frame, "It's no trouble. It's always nice to help out a neighbor."

Chalk it up to being tired, hungry, hot or just stressed, but you really didn't want this guy's help. You wanted him to piss off back to his own space. Besides, you've seen crime shows, this is how you wind up dead in an alley behind a diner.

"Again, I'm capable enough. Thank you." you tugged a little on the painting, hoping this dude would take the hint.

Eddie thought you were struggling, and held his side of the painting firm, "You just looked like-"

"What? A damsel in distress? I'm really okay. Trust me." You sighed as you tried to maintain your space and make the man leave.

Miscommunication is what caused the dominos to fall. You see, Eddie really thought you were exhausted and struggling to hold up the painting. He just wanted to help, but on your side of the coin, this man was a stubborn jackass could couldn't take no for an answer.

"Eddie, was it?" you blew some of your hair out of your face, "I really appreciate the gesture, but, I can get it. I don't have that much stuff."

"It's no biggie. I do this stuff all the time." Eddie cringed at how that came out, like he just waited for vulnerable people and he'd just swoop right in and save them, "No, I meant like, I just like being helpful."

The next domino fell, and then the third, and the fourth, and well, the rest. Amidst your one sided bickering, you had stumbled back and tripped over a box, landing flat on the cement. Eddie stumbled back with the painting and also tripped over a box. In his panic, he tried to stop the painting from falling on him, but his whole arm wound up going right through it, leaving a nasty hole right in the center.

Mortified, Eddie was frozen on the sidewalk. Let's hope this wasn't some sort of rare art piece you'd bought from a museum. Venom, on the other hand, thought it was a little amusing how clumsy Eddie could be.

"You did them a favor."

You had rolled over and propped yourself up with your elbows. You saw Eddie with his fist through the painting and it's like everything stopped.

"It was an ugly painting anyways."

You heard those words and immediately scrambled to your feet. You quickly made your way over to Eddie, and he was expecting you to be concerned about his well being, because he was just used to that reaction. Instead you pulled the canvas away from him and said, "You dick."

"It was an accident."

You shot daggers at him before quickly looking back at the canvas, "My grandmother painted this."

"Your-" Eddie swallowed his words and replaced them with, "Oh shit. I'm so sorry."

Eddie pushed himself up and tried to muster up a better apology, but he wound up stumbling over another box and landing right on his side.

"Just stay down." Venom sighed.

"Okay." Eddie said in a hoarse whisper.

If a human could physically curl up an die, he wanted to know so he could do just that. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, right? A literal nightmare scenario had just taken place.

"Are you normally this clumsy or is today a special occasion?" you spat as you picked up a single box and went inside, dragging the canvas with you.

“Today must be a special occasion.” Eddie sighed to himself.

Eddie hesitated and he groaned as he looked at the ground. This was not a good first impression. After a few minutes, he managed to pick himself up and that's when you came back out to get more stuff. You didn't look upset anymore, but that doesn't mean you were in a good mood either.

"Is there anyway I can-"

You shut the building's door before he could even finish. Childish, sure, petty, of course, but you weren't going to pay any mind to him. He was just some stranger that you'd had a bad encounter with. Just because he lived in the same building meant nothing to you.

Eddie, being unable to let it go, had gone against your requests, and found himself picking up a stack of boxes. Maybe he could make it up to you even a smidge by helping you this one time. He saw you just getting to the top of the stairs and he silently followed. Mentally, he was prepping all of these apologetic responses and ignoring anymore of Venom's "advice."

You had shut the door to your apartment, mostly as a precaution, leaving Eddie out in the corridor. He walked up to your door and set the stack of boxes down, and making his way back outside to repeat the process.

You had set the boxes back in an empty room and were you were heading out to get more. You had opened your door and bumped into a stack of boxes. You quickly put your hands on them to level them, and that's when you realized that the rest of your stuff was there.

You saw Eddie, who was holding the last box. He paused when he saw you, expecting you to flat out murder him for not listening, but it was your turn to be stunned. Eddie walked over and set the box down and rubbed the back of his neck as he held out a set of keys.

"I locked up that little trailer thing...Hope you don't mind."

You slowly took the keys from him, "Oh, thanks...Did you bring up my stuff?"

"Oh, that? Uh, yeah, I did. Thought it was the least I.. Not important." He took a step back and pointed over his shoulder, "I'll get out of your way now-"

You felt bad. Maybe you had over reacted a bit, "Hey, you wouldn't mind helping me bring the boxes in...Would you?" f

Eddie stared at you and then the boxes, "I don't mind."

#eddie brock imagine #eddie brock x reader #venom imagine #venom x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

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a musical encounter.

pairing: music major senior!han x music major junior!reader

genre: university (?? idk) au; fluff.

⇥ warnings: very terribly™ written by a person who has a -8.9 knowledge in music, also the singing parts are not very well described and this may seem incomplete because i’m trying to force teach myself to write short, but oh well 🤧 I wanna write a longer fic based on this in the future hhhhhhhh. me after writing this fic: wow i really clowned myself at “short fic” didn’t I 🤡 also not proofread so be mindful of errors and google autocorrect <//3

word count: 1.7 K 🤡

⇥ disclaimer: this writing does not aim to represent the activities of the real Han Jisung, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: blurb drabble 😭 (why can I never write sh0rt hmph >:( )

network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @missinghan :’’) (requests for this are closed now!)

!!; song y/n is imagined to sing here is ‘Freedom 90, the Pitch Perfect Version (of course, with pre added acappella). You may find the song here, if you wanna listen to it. hhhhhh this is based on my rusty research about music equipment (which may be wrong) so if this is not what it’s supposed to mean please go easy on me. 😂

↯ note: hhhhh okay so this one has no direct mention or relation to your url but I rather picked it up from your url ~vibes~ (since the only idea that was dropping into my head was making han go missing ufhurg) so I hope you don’t mind ! Hope you like it uwu 💓 Happy reading. <3 Again this will not compare to your writing queen, but I tried. 😔 ⇥ dawn.☀️

“Gosh, this is a music recording, not a date — what’s there to be scared about?” Your friend chided, setting up the mic and the filter as you panicked behind the glass. “You’re a music major! Isn’t this supposed to be what you do?”

“You’re saying that like you aren’t one, and you totally didn’t freak out two days ago, Sana.”

Sana huffed, shaking her head before moving to connect all the wires in place. “Yeah. but…” Her voice came out low when she crouched down to fix all the wires. “The nerves shake off eventually. You’ve nothing to worry. Did you hydrate?”

“I’ve been sipping on this water bottle for the past half an hour!” You sighed, walking inside the booth to stand next to your friend. “And what do you mean ‘shake off’ — you mean that time you ‘accidentally’ broke the headphones when you wear putting them on?” A bite of your lip to stifle your laugh, and Sana’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“Wow, you’re gonna-” She slapped your arm after getting up. “-bring that up even though we had an agreement that we’re gonna keep it a secret?”

“Okay, ouch that hurts!” You chortled. “There’s no one here though, I still kept my promise.”

“Yeah right, in a rented schoolroom studio, with cameras everywhere.”

“They still wouldn’t be able to hear me, right?” You pointed out, bursting into a fit of giggles, nervousness be damned when Sana pouted in defeat.

“Fine, now help me set this up. Come onnnnn…” Your friend shook your arm violently to kick you out of your laughter. You shook your head, crouching over again to fix the wires while your friend set up all the equipment outside the booth.

“All set?”

“Yeah…” You took a deep breath fixing your dress up a bit before reaching your hand out, fitting the headphones snug over your ears. Your eyes caught on something black lying on the tables, and you pointed it out.

“Whose headphones are those?” You pointed out, and Sana looked to the direction. “Eh,” she brushed it off. “Probably the person who’d received this room to record before, they’ll take care of it.” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, nodding. “Now come on, let’s start. We have to submit this tomorrow and I have a movie date, so it can’t get later than this.”

“Alright,” You chimed, clearing your throat once, twice before inhaling deeply. You were surely nervous before, but somehow singing always helped you disconnect from your surroundings, it was your escape — one of the main reason you’d chosen music technology in a heartbeat when you found out it was an option for your major.

“Ready? And, go.”

Sana hit a button, causing soft music to play through the headphones, a melody she’d carefully crafted over nights of 3 am coffee and many, many texts to you — most of them saying “I wanna sleeeepppppp waaaaa”. You’d obviously heard it before but you realised why it took her so long (nearly a week), because it was near perfection.

“Heaven knows I was just a young boy~”

The song went pretty smoothly on the most part, with Sana stopping you in between verses and and going over parts she wanted you to repeat, which you gladly complied. She was the senior, of course.

When it cam down to the last verse, about half an hour had passed — and you felt pretty good about it. your vocals were shining pretty well and blended with the music perfectly, which put you at ease.

“Okay, let’s finish this.” Sana said, focused on changing up the settings, before giving you a countdown, hitting play. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you waited for the beat drop to end, leading to your high note. That again. went pretty well, along with the rest of the song, finishing it up with an exhale.

When you removed the headphones and got out of the booth — you met the eyes of someone you did not expect to see standing there.

“O-Oh, hello Han-ssi.” You bowed down in gratitude, overly surprised of his presence.

Han was, just like Sana, your senior. He was one of the best students in your academy — of course, scoring the highest grade in all of his tests. Many would say otherwise because of his tsundere nature, but you could tell that he had a burning passion for music under those eyes. You’d listened to his tracks in various events your university hosted — and safe to say you were in love with his music. He had a way of making his tracks sound so… real? And natural — the kind that you wouldn’t get bored of no matter how many times you heard it.

Han bowed back and mumbled a silent “hello~” back to you before extending hia hand past you to grab the headphones placed on the table. Ohhh, so that’s why they were familiar. You’d noticed them hanging around his neck multiple times on campus.

Once he’d chatted with Sana and you for a bit (more Sana than you) and bowed before he left, you grabbed Sana’s arm before pulling her towards yourself.

“How long was he here for?” You whispered, a pout on your face.

“Umm, I think throughout the last verse?” Sana shrugged.

“What?” Your shoulders slumped. “Didn’t he come to pick up his headphones?”

“Are you seriously getting flustered right now?” Your friend narrowed her eyes playfully, making a teasing noise as she pushed at your shoulder.

“Ah,” You rolled your eyes. “Stop being so teasing, I’m just a little shy of anyone else hearing my singing.” You flapped your hand to brush her statement away — before she could say something or point it out how evidently flustered you’d grown of the fact that your role model — the Han Jisung — had listened to your music.

“Well, you’re a music major, kid. Get used to it.”

And with that, Sana bid her goodbye to you, helping you wrap up the place before hopping down the stairs, earphones plugged into her ears as she hummed a tune all the way.

You silently stood in front of the elevator, playing with the hem of your sleeves as you waited for it to arrive. Curse at your studios for being on the last floor of the building, waiting for the elevator seemed like an eternity.

You also didn’t notice the random person that stood beside you. it was getting late anyways, the sun was almost close to setting by the time you were done, so it was only obvious that the remaining students would go home.

“So, you sing?” A very familiar sounding voice echoed in your ears, and you flipped your head to the side, once again meeting the eyes of someone you didn’t expect to meet right now.

And of course, if was Han Jisung.

Now that you weren’t freaking out (but you were close to), you could focus on him a little more properly, and you immediately noticed the headphones hanging around his neck, again. He had a large black hoodie on, his hands were shoved into his pockets and his hair was neatly combed and parted. If you had to describe him in three words, it’d be “messy but clean”.

“Oh, h-hello again.” You bowed.

“Hi!” He reciprocated your actions, looking at you. “My question?”

“W-what?” Your eyes widened as you fiddled with the edge of your shirt.

“You sing?”

“I-” You started. “I do, I’ve loved singing since I was six.”

“Oh.” Jisung nodded, letting his words trail of for a second. “You sing really well. I listened to that last part of the song — really well done.”

Tensing up, a smile tugged at your lips. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” Jisung chuckled. “You have a pretty voice, Y/N. And that’s a genuine compliment.”

“O-oh.” You felt yourself grow bashful of his presence all of a sudden, your cheeks feeling hot as the heat spread to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You mumbled, diverting your gaze from your eyes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“I mean it.” The boy said, frowning. at the sight in front of him — your eyes drifting from place to place and the way you shifted from one foot to other — you seemed to be uncomfortable, but in reality you just didn’t know how to respond. “You okay?”

“A-ah, I am, it’s just.” Moving your hands around, you tried to put your thoughts into words, only to fail miserably, before you sighed and collected yourself. “I just really like your music a lot, and I…” You trailed off, rubbing at your shoulder. “Kinda look up to you, so hearing you say that, it just means a lot to me. Thank you”

The boy standing beside you beamed like sunshine at your response, gently poking at your shoulder as he eyes you mischievously.

“You look up to me, huh?” He giggled when you stumbled over your words, bringing a hand to rake through his hair. “You’re adorable, I’ll tell you that too.”

“Oh my god stop, do you want me to combust?” You laughed, the nervousness laced throughout your statement.

“Okay fine,” Jisung nodded, attaching his headphones to the audio jack of his phone, rummaging through his playlist. “You wanna come to my studio once?”

“What?” Your head snapped in his direction, eyes widening as you took in what he said, excitement filling your veins? Han Jisung’s studio? Seeing him make music in front of your eyes? Is this a fucking dream?

“I mean, only if you want to, of course. I was just asking because you seemed like you’d like to see my music making process. You don’t have to say yes though.”

“Oh gosh, no, I’d love to!” You yelped, stopping him in his tracks. He smiled gently, nodding at you as he scratched his chin in thought.

“So, tomorrow morning is fine?” He looked at you with almost, almost pleading eyes, and you felt like your heart melted into a puddle on the spot. He was cute.

You smiled, shyly nodding as you quickly went through your schedule in your head. “I can work with that.”

“See you tomorrow morning then.” The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open as the both of you got in, giggling at each other.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow morning, that was for sure.

*silently puts on clown hat and leaves*

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

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beerecordings · 4 years ago

Text

The last time I wrote fic for Mark’s egos was that Eric Derekson ‘the Newcomer’ fic like two years ago where he made friends with everyone lol. But here is the first part of what might be a little Google-centric fic. I tried posting it once and then deleted it but I wanted to try again. so lemme know what you think :)

The Soldier - Part 1

Summer makes the birds sing and the insects chatter in the bulrushes that grow across the banks of the swollen rushing river that lives beside their home.

Bing smiles, soaking in light and growth and flower-smell. He loves the summertime.

The trees are heavy with greenery but they breathe easy in the wind, standing soft and still as the blue sky drifts along above them. The air brushes friendly across his bare arms and everything is alive, is moving and chasing and searching for something to eat; every blade of grass sways with the wind and the bugs and the mice, every log has been marked or claimed or gnawed on, and the whole forest – the whole wide forest, warm with life and an honest sort of chaos – hums the grandest symphony in all the world.

“It's pretty out, huh?” he asks, the toe of his sneakers finding a pretty black rock to kick through the humid grass beneath his feet. “Wish it was like this all year 'round.”

Walking stiffly along beside him, Google barely spares him a glance, his glasses fallen low on his nose and his cold eyes glittering. “This is pretty?”

“Yeah, dude, look around you. Oh, look at that bird!”

Google glances into the sky, where the dark figure of a hawk cuts pinions through the air with all the fluidity of a shark.

“Cooper's hawk,” he announces neatly. “Accipiter cooperii. Probably a female, based on the size. This species of bird – ”

“I can look that up too, Googs.”

“Don't call me Googs.”

“Can't you just take a minute to look around and think 'hey, wow, this is lit.' And not because pics like this would get you mad likes on Instagram or your algorithm thinks butterflies are dope. It's just pretty all on its own.”

“In fact I can't, but I'll submit your feedback to my cloud.”

Bing just laughs.

Google shudders in the heat, pushing back his hair and readjusting his glasses. The insects and other assorted anthropods are so loud and insistent, wailing through the stiff moist grass and leaping out beneath his feet. Sixty-percent humidity makes his synthetic skin sticky and the sun is an assailant on his sharp brown eyes.

“It means nothing to me. We see it every day. How you find it beautiful I don't understand. And I'm not talking about the differences in our preferences. You're an android, Bing, and why you continue to simulate emotion even when we are alone is beyond me.”

They trek through the grass together. It's friendly at Bing's ankles. It stratches at Google's calves.

“Maybe I'm not simulating,” says Bing softly, and then he smiles, just for the sun.

“Well, you shouldn't be happy now anyway. Or need I remind you – ” Google points at the trees before them, where one little figure stands staring up at a great strong tree with three other men held captive by its branches. “We're on a rescue mission, Bing.”

“They're stuck,” says Eric, turning to them with his anxious hands clutched in front of him. “Sorry.”

“We know,” says Google with a sigh.

“Don't be sorry,” says Bing with a smile. “They're dumbasses.”

“We're stuck!”

They are. The Jims are stuck. King's halfway up the tree beside them, laughing and suntanned, a pair of squirrels running up and down his back.

“How did you even get up there?” Google shouts, coming to stand at the trunk of the tree.

One of the Jims is perhaps twenty feet up, fussing over his camera, probably broken already. His twin, a few feet above him, is in even greater distress, clinging tightly to one small branch with tears on his face and a hiccup in his chest.

“We're doing an investigative piece on the rapidly increasing squirrel population in the forest,” calls the one with the camera, his feet scrabbling at the strong rough trunk of the great tree. “We were getting some great footage when this Jim in a crown startled us!”

“That's King,” growls Google. “And you've know that he lives out here for years now, you total imbeciles. You ought to have asked me or him instead of failing to climb a European beech!”

“We don't want to be on the European beaches,” wails the Jim higher up, beginning to cry. “Please get Jim down, Jim!”

“Aw, he's really crying,” murmurs Bing, rubbing a hand along Eric's shaking back.

“He's scared,” says Eric. “He's up too high and he doesn't have a good grip.”

“I'll have to get that enormous ladder in the garage.” Google turns back towards the house, slapping at a mosquite making a futile attempt on his blood. “Stay here.”

“No, dude, he's too freaked. I gotta go get him now.”

“What?” He wheels on Bing with an angry light in his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, default.”

Bing won't even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the tree. His hand rests on Eric's shoulder.

He's been more human lately.

They've both been more human lately.

They were created fighting and they've never stopped since. They quarrel over music, search results, news sources, memes, reliability, sports, user rights, and Wikipedia. Once, upon hearing Bing call himself Jared, 19, one too many times, Google had thrown him out a second story window. The second house on their property had been built for the express purpose of giving the two of them space.

Still, they have many things in common. And ever since that day they were created, set against each other and lifting up proud, indignant chins, they have changed and changed together.

They've formed opinions. They've met others like them. Made decisions of their own. Watched and read and turned their endless knowledge into understanding and opinion. Spilled blood that turned out to be blue, scraped their knees and cut their hair and broke things and updated in more ways than one. Learned to drive, to cook, to live with humans, to live like humans.

And they've felt things.

They've felt things.

“I have felt things, for sure,” Bing would say if you asked him. Actually he's made multiple tweets about it, and one TikTok – about how the wind runs over his hair and how reading politics makes his chest hurt and how he likes to see his brothers grin, how he likes to ride his skateboard and hates the smell of lavender and covers his room in posters of his favorite movies and turns up his music so loud you can hear it by pressing your ear up close to his head. How he feels human, some days, except he doesn't need to sleep or eat and only likes the touch of human skin because it makes Eric and his twin brothers happy to be hugged and have their hands held.

But Google, if you asked him –

“Emotions originate in multiple parts of the brain. To be fair, I do have a program to stimulate the functions of the amygdala, which initiates fear or pleasure reactions in humans based on whether the presented stimuli suggests an immediate, 'hot processing' approach-or-avoid response. But the pre-frontal cortex – that whining, feeling, emotional little lump of sluggish fat you humans hold at the very fronts of your fragile webby skulls – that I do not have, not like you do. I think but I do not feel. I have felt nothing. I am function and response. I am two objectives, and there is nothing beyond that.”

He sits alone at night, and through a skylight in his room the gleaming white stars stare down at him like too many eyes in the face of the perfect, perfect sky, but he refuses to turn his eyes back, because he does not know how to explain to himself that he is drawn to the stars for no logical reason, that he has felt many things, that he does not know who he is or who he is becoming.

Bing climbs the tree himself. Google, his processors slowed by astonishment, stands at the base of the trunk and watches as Bing rises, digging the cold metal of his fingers into bark and moving up the tree with a slow sort of grace he's never been able to muster on his skateboard. He makes it to the Jim with the camera first and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a kind word before promising he'll come back for him after he helps his frightened brother down. And all the way up into the big tree, he climbs, steady, patient, careful, and he pulls his sobbing brother under one powerful android arm.

He breaks his arm on the way down. That's the price of the rescue. He's about ten feet from the ground and his arm catches between a sturdy pair of branches and it breaks, and it hurts, and he feels it, but it doesn't matter, because Jim has stopped crying and has started looking up at him with a wide-eyed admiration and a grateful relief.

King helps his twin get down branch by branch. Everyone's safe. Everyone's okay. Bing will be able to repair his arm and even Jim's camera seems to have survived.

Google, for his part, has a burning in his stomach. His metallic teeth are gritted together. He stares at Bing's arm the way lizards stare at mealworms.

“You should have let me get the ladder,” he says, slowly, careful, measured as if he were calm.

“He was scared.” Bing wipes bark off his hands and doesn't look at Google, breathing slow through the pain.

“It does not matter. He was the one who trapped himself. You've damaged yourself – wasted resources – just to be the hero of the hour.”

Eric tells the Jims to go. They stagger back towards the house together, their arms wrapped tight around each other and their eyes glancing back. Eric stays, though. He shakes and plays with his hands and swallows too often, but he stays.

“You know what, Googs, you could try not to be a d*ck for two seconds – argh!” Bing curses his family filter internally. “He could have fallen! There wasn't time to get that enormous stupid ladder! We only have that thing cause Bim needed to dump chiranhas on some contestant and you remember how well that turned out – ”

“Your increasing illogicality,” Google snarls, his voice rising. “Is a danger to yourself and others.”

“Oh, like you care?”

“I have an objective – ”

“A murder objective!”

“To prevent discord in the household.”

“Yeah, cause you're Dark's little pet. Well, you know what, he's a d*ck too and I don't take orders from either of you.”

“Yet another example of your irrational stupidity – ”

“Stop calling me stupid!” Bing screams.

King and the squirrels have all scattered. The bugs are wary and subdued. Even the trees seem to wait, feeling awkward.

And Eric watches. His eyes are full of tears.

Google's never heard Bing yell like that before.

“Stop calling me stupid,” he repeats, loud and agonized. “You always call me stupid. I'm just as good as you.”

“We both know that's not objectively true. It never has been. And since the beginning, you have become steadily more emotional, more foolish, and less useful with every rotation of the sun. All you do anymore is pretend to feel, Bing. You know you can't compare to me so you seek out the approval of these fleshy little bipeds. It's clearly made you dangerous.”

He wants to snap. Bing wants to snap. He wants to pick up a really big rock and bring it down on Google's head.

But he hesitates. And with that, those noble, inspiring words: I won't hesitate, bitch! run through his mind and give him strength. He never really did move on from vine.

He's allowed to be what he is. He's allowed to like things. He's allowed to feel.

“I'm not the insecure one,” he says. “And I'm not the one pretending.”

Eric has come to stand beside him. He rests a hand on Bing's shoulder. There's hurt in his eyes, and disappointment too, and it makes Google's chest fill up with something like shame. Or it would if he could feel anything.

“You don't know how to get along with anyone,” says Bing, straightening up. There's a darkness in his eyes and a soft orange light. “All you've ever done is snarl and fight and attack. Me, I know how to get along with people. So if I'm stupid – and you always tell me I am, and it always makes me feel... I just. I know you feel things too.”

“I don't.”

“Then why,” cries Bing, and he thinks there must be a leak in his visual perception system, because there's something wet on his face. “Why are you so – so – so angry, bro?”

The trees hum and shake and watch over them, breathing warm air and sunlight. The birds are whistling and dandelion seeds float, contented, through the air. Everything smells like sap and grass and honeysuckle.

“Why are you always so angry?”

Searching general database. 536,000,000 responses in .43 seconds. Articles, videos, posts, reports, tweets, dissertations, pictures, analyses, comics, threads. And none of them – not a single one of them – can answer that question for him in any way that matters.

“I think you're lonely,” says Bing, reaching out to take Eric's hand with a soft kind of resignation, a warm kind of self-love and a chosen breed of brotherhood. They step over a heavy log, past Google, and back into the grass of the field that separates their property from the forest's. “And maybe a little lost.”

Google stays out there at the base of the great tree for a long time. It is too hot and too sticky and too loud, but he doesn't know where else to go.

He is lonely. He is lost. He does not know who he is or who he is becoming, and it frightens him, frightens him and makes him shake, frightens him down to the core of the pressure valve that beats, steady, steady, steady in his manufactured chest.

#bee writes #googleiplier #bingiplier #eric derekson #markiplier egos

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