#so i tried using one of my keys to unjam the door

[crime-scene-psychic]

never thought I'd type out the sentence "my Kingdom Hearts game got stuck in an Amazon Locker" but here we are

[tobiasdrake]

Time to confront our killer.

Actually, there can. It's super weird for there to be one, but there definitely can be a fifth corpse. The key is here:

My bestie gave us the biggest clue of this case; The key to the illusion being performed here. The fifth car door opens fine. Now. That implies that someone jammed the door earlier, and it's since been unjammed by whoever went nuts and lit all these fires throughout it.

That does throw a kink in my "Aphex did it but isn't the impersonator" theory, since this would require a level of premeditation.

But there can easily be a fifth corpse, provided that one of these corpses belongs to someone who was already dead when Aphex and Pucci scanned the train. This body in the fifth car may have been here from the beginning, and that's why they jammed the door.

That would also explain why they're burning all of the bodies. This strongly suggests the simpler explanation that the impersonator is behind the killings here. They're burning the bodies to disfigure them, such that the body of the person already-dead can be mistaken for their own.

And it's most likely Aphex. He put his necklace on this corpse after he burned it. The necklace shows no sign of fire damage.

Still want to know what happened to Zilch's puppy dog hat, on that--

Hold up, is this Zilch? Did he pick up Zilch's body, follow us through the train, tuck it away in here, and then put his necklace on it?

If so, then that eliminates the premeditation required for this to have been the impersonator's doing. This illusion could just as easily have been created with four corpses as five, though it seems harder to believe that Aphex ninja-sneaked past us.

...let's have a look at the infirmary.

Is this where Zilch died? Aphex tried to set him on fire like the others but there was a struggle and Aphex had to stab him with the knife? That would explain the weirdness of the knife.

And then... what? Aphex carried him to Car 1, put him in the infirmary, stabbed the knife into him, and set him on fire... then carried him back to Car 5 to create this illusion? It's possible but it doesn't sound plausible.

Pretty sure that's where I left the fire extinguisher too. Hm....

...okay this is going to sound crazy. But is it possible that we're in Car 1 right now?

Hear me out.

See, this is where the car number should be. But it's destroyed by the seemingly indiscriminate flames. Let's take a moment and think back to that route map we saw.

See how there's a sort of a loop around the tunnel?

So, this is definitely in the realm of wild-ass speculation. But maybe the reason the door to Car 5 wouldn't open is because there was never a fifth car. While we were in the tunnel, the train could have stopped and we wouldn't know. Then, Car 1 could be driven around the entire train through that loop, coming up to be attached in the rear.

Car 1 gets locked into place in the back and now it's "Car 5". Then Aphex drags Zilch's body out of bed, puts his necklace on him, and suddenly his body is "Aphex's corpse". Boom, illusion created.

This would require cooperation from the automated system which means he would then have to be the corporate spy. But it also explains why the spy would spare Yuma. No point in creating an illusion like this if you don't have a witness, after all. Aphex can vanish once we pull into Kanai Ward, while Yuma explains that five people were killed (and probably gets arrested for it).

This would also explain why the backup system came online after the blackout. It wasn't because Aphex destroyed the main system. It's because the main system car became disconnected from the rest of the train!

[tea-with-eleni]

I think literally everything about my museum is run on a "well it works, but it probably shouldn't, and we really ought to do something about it before it blows up in our faces" mentality.

The Electricity: The wiring was done by "a bunch of good old boys back before they had to worry about code" and the tech department has been swearing at it for years. Apparently when they first inherited the museum, they had a 1.5 million volt Tesla coil plugged into an off-the-shelf surge protector. It's a miracle nobody died. They've spent the last few months puzzling out the wiring in the offices. They still don't know what all the switches do, and I know there's about six switches in the office kitchen that just say "NO" and "DO NOT SWITCH".

The Dome: Our planetarium is literally kept running by witchcraft, and everything in it has been created by three chucklefucks who have had to teach ourselves how to code. The closest we have to an expert is probably me. I attended a hackathon on the precursor software in February 2020, mostly for the free food. We've found a bug so weird that apparently the actual experts in the software were flummoxed. The official take is "that sounds weird and bad".

The Closet: The education department has two closets. One is full of crafting supplies and was meticulously organized by our non-adhd department head back in May. The other... well... she tried. And we tried. But the rest of the department is VERY adhd, and then summer camp happened, and now it looks like the Kratt Brothers were turned loose with a much larger space. It's giving our poor department head nightmares.

The Dinosaurs: There are rather nice (if about 15 years out of date, which is to say featherless) dinosaur statues outside on the walking trails. Speakers play dinosaur noises during the day. For some reason, the speaker system is cross wired into the copy machine. If the dinosaurs aren't roaring then the copy machine doesn't work. Apparently some of the roars are courtesy of our poor tech who's been unraveling the wiring debacle.

The File System: You know how if you leave an ADHD person with access to too much information of any particular type, they'll go and become a fucking expert? Yeah, so that happened to our museum director and the museum's logs. She's told me a couple of times about some of the weird things she's found buried in the museum archives-that-we-aren't-even-supposed-to-have-because-we-aren't-that-type-of-museum with the tone of a person who is still trying to process the visceral strangeness of what they've found.

The Entrance Bridge: Yeah so apparently it's only avoided collapsing by virtue of... well, maybe witchcraft again, but also a decent amount of luck. They're actually closing for two weeks so we can fix it soon. I don't think it'll be an "all hands on deck, wear comfy clothes because somebody has to build it and it's going to be literally all departments" situation - although, you never know. Literally everyone was involved in repainting part of the office wing.

The Water Feature: We have this cannon thing that spans two floors and is great fun, because it involves launching playpen balls into a fountain. It just gets jammed a lot. You unjam it by retrieving The Broken Broom Handle from a corner, making a joke about using high tech tools, and poking around with it at an awkward angle until it's unjammed again. Probably a lesser evil, but still kinda funny.

The Ghosts: Possibly due to the amount of energy we pour into the atmosphere every day via the giant 1.5 million volt tesla coil, the museum is haunted as shit. I had someone pounding on the door of the dome earlier today. Nobody was there, except for one woman about fifteen feet away who seemed genuinely startled when I asked if anyone had knocked on the door. Weirdly, it sounded like one of those push-bar doors, even though it's a door with a turn-handle. Other ghosts have also been heard - there's one with a ring of jingly keys who draws attention to unlocked doors, for example.

The Staff: Of the staff, maybe one person? is neurotypical. Although I can't tell for sure. I think she might just be better at masking than the rest of us. The staff members on the spectrum try to point the adhd staff members in productive directions. Our department is currently looking for someone physically capable of organization and scheduling to handle the paperwork, outreach coordination, planning, and volunteer coordination. Because out of our department and the nearest adjacent department... well... the nearest adjacent department head got bored yesterday and spent a good thirty minutes melting crayons in the sun. Which distracted the other person in my department, who helped. The cardboard box of melted crayon art is now sitting in the middle of the floor. It may stay there for quite some time.

[asimpforarmin]

What’s Done is Done 💛

Content: Armin Arlert x Reader, Modern AU, italicized means flashback, bold is just something used to quote from a flashback.

Summary: After not talking to Armin for 2 years, you finally reconnect. Then, after a little bonding, he comes over and comforts you when you lose your job.

WC: 5,196

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Warnings: Financial struggle, alcohol and mentions of alcoholism, a little arguing, and probable grammatical errors. Let me know if I missed any!

A/n: Everyone in the story is above drinking age. Yes, I did listen to Nobody by Mitski slowed down with reverb while making this, thanks for asking. This is really just a vent fic for me, I’ve just been daydreaming for hours about how I just want to be held and comforted by Armin. This isn’t what’s happening to me irl, but I just felt like I needed a simple explanation for the fic so yea.

“Armin! Are you okay?! Where’d they get you?” you exclaimed, looking over Armin. He’d been beaten up by one of those punks who bullied him. You slung his arm around your shoulders, helping him stand up.

“I’m fine!” he says loudly, brushing you off and sitting back down.

“Hey, Armin, what’s wrong?” you ask in a softer tone. You bend down next to him. He’s sitting with his knees clutched against his chest, head down.

He looks up at you, tears in his eyes. “I’m nothing but a burden to you. You, Eren, and Mikasa are always having to come to my rescue.”

“Armin,” you take him into your arms, holding him tight, “It’s not an inconvenience to us. We’re happy to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your torso, head resting on your shoulder.

He sniffles, “I’m sorry.”

You pull him closer and rub your hand along his back, “I’m glad to be here. There’s nothing I want more than for you to feel better.”

~~~~~

Armin was everything you wanted to be. He was smart, he had a good job even when attending college, and was able to support himself. You were just you, someone stuck in a never-ending dead end job with bad pay and no special degree to help you out. You were barely scraping by while he was fully capable of doing anything he wanted with his life. Not to mention he had a huge network of friends.

So there you sat, alone in your apartment with the lights off and the windows open, blowing the curtains around slightly. The only thing illuminating the room being the small blue screen of your tv and the ambient nighttime lights of the city outside.

You sat up on the couch, looking at your phone. You went onto twitter only to see Armin and all his friends out doing something at a bar far away from you. You were never really close to many of his friends. You met Eren first, then, he introduced you to Armin. You and Armin hit it off pretty well and you got attached to him. He became your closest friend.

By the time you reached middle school, you and Armin were inseparable. He would obviously spend time with other friends, but he always made time for just you and him.

By highschool, it was clear to everyone around that you two liked each other. You two would blush whenever the other was near, would sit super close, share food, it was almost like you were a couple without admitting to it.

When highschool ended, Armin was so excited to show you his acceptance letter into the college he would be attending. You were hyped up too, until you noticed it was in another state. You were still happy for him, but it would just mean you wouldn’t be able to see each other as often.

You managed to find an apartment only an hour away from him. It wasn’t anything nice, but it was in your budget, and was closer to his college than your last home. In the beginning, you two would video call a lot, especially after classes. You did almost every day. Then, that turned into every week, every two weeks, every month, then you both just stopped around the one year mark.  

He had changed too, not in a bad way though. He had cut his hair, got new friends, and was a lot more social. He still had his old nerdy interests, but he wasn’t the same.

Meanwhile, you desperately tried to get into any college or higher education you could, not even living at this point, just trying to survive. You had two jobs, a cashier in a gas station and a barista at a quaint little coffee shop, but you were still struggling.

You couldn’t get enough money to leave and go to a cheaper place to live. So you slaved away, trying your best to make a decent sum every week.

You wanted to see your best friend again so badly, but you just didn’t know how to reach out. He would give you the motivation you needed to keep going, to try to do something with your life by just being there. The thing is, you’ve drifted so far apart that you were clueless on how to ask without being weird or needy.

You set your glass of ice water on the coffee table in front of you. You looked at it for a moment, thinking of what it could be instead. You were only dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, but you threw on a hoodie and a pair of sandals. You grabbed your keys and phone, you were going out, to a random bar nearby to be exact.

So what if it wasn’t healthy? It’s not like you did it every night, and it wouldn’t drain you for too long. You went down to ground floor and started walking. You didn’t own a car, and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t be able to drive it back.

You walked for a little bit, reaching the building. You went inside and sat at the bar. It wasn’t a huge place, but it wasn’t tiny either. It was quiet though. The only sounds were random people hanging out in the corner, jazz playing over the speakers, and the other lonely people drowning in their sorrows who had it worse than you.

You ordered a drink and looked at your reflection in the glass. You looked like and felt like an utter mess. You didn’t know what you were doing anymore. You took a sip.

The sound of everything else happening was a cruel reminder that life goes on even when you’re at your lowest. The people going in and out of the bar will never know what you’re going through. Time doesn’t care about how you feel and it ever will. But you can try to slow it down a bit with another drink.

As soon as the bartender gives it to you, you see an arm to the left of you. “What’s cookin’ good-lookin?” a man says. You can tell he’s tipsy.

You look up at him and see a familiar face. “Jean?” you inquire, unsure if you’re mistaken. He was one of Armin’s friends he met in university. You never met him, but Armin talked to you about him when you used to call and makes a lot of appearances on his twitter.

He gulps, not knowing who you are. “Yeah actually, who’s asking?���

“I’m- I used to be Armin’s friend,” you say as you stick your hand out. He shakes it. “My name’s Y/n.”

“Oh I see.” He leans on the bar and orders a shot. “Y’know I always wondered who you were. Armin used to never shut up about you. Now, it’s almost like he’s forgotten about you.”

Even though he’s drunkenly blunt, those words still hurt. That just goes to show he’s moved on from you. You look back into your glass, wondering if you should just down it and get out of here.

Then you hear giggles and look over. You see Sasha laughing at Connie punching the air, clearly snockered. You’ve talked to both of them before, but not too much.

You decide you won’t down your drink, instead sliding it over to Jean and paying.

You stand up, wanting to go home before the alcohol kicks in too much. You had an alright tolerance but you wanted to make sure you made it home first. Plus, what were they doing so far out here? Surely they were barhopping. The others would come in soon anyways.

You hear a drunk Jean whine as you walk away, falling off the barstool. You push open the doors, only to be met with those blue eyes you haven’t seen in person in for over a year and a half. They widen looking at you.

“Y/n?” he asks, more shocked than you. You realize Eren and Mikasa are there too.

“Hi,” you say quietly, pulling up your hood and pushing through them.

“W-Wait-“ he’s cut off by Eren dragging him into the bar.

You start sulking back towards your apartment. You feel defeated. Even though he barely said anything to you, that made you start thinking about all the conversations you had when you were younger.

You get halfway down the block and realize you forgot your stupid keys. You quickly turn around, not wanting anyone else to take them. As you look back, you see Armin a few yards away from you. He sticks his hand out, giving you your keys.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it sure has.” You walk up and snatch the keys out of his hand, not in the mood for a conversation with him. You weren’t mad at him, rather with yourself for not knowing how to talk to him.

You turn away and start walking again, when he says, “I’m sorry Y/n.” You stop dead in your tracks, glaring back at him.

“Of course you are, even after two years of not talking to me,” you raise your voice. Why were you saying this? This wasn’t like you. It wasn’t his fault either.

Armin looks down and grabs his wrist, keeping his arms together. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say again. “I knew I should have said something, I just didn’t know how.” You heard how his voice broke slightly, but you couldn’t see his face. “You were always there for me and I just brushed you off.”

~~~~~

Armin rushed to his math class. He knew he was going to be late but only by a few minutes if he was quick. You were also running late, going to the class down the hall from him. Armin opened the door.

“You’re late, Arlert,” the teacher replied immediately.

“Sorry sir, I-“ Armin was cut off by you speaking.

“He was helping me get my locker unjammed sir,” you say, lying, but covering for him.

The teacher nods, “Sit down, I’ll let this one slide.” Armin smiles at you and you give him a thumbs up before continuing to your classes.

~~~~~

You stand there, not sure of what to say.

“I took you for granted,” he continues. You wanted to yell at him, but it wasn’t his fault. You didn’t blame him. These things happen, that’s just how life goes.

He looked up at you, he was crying. Not too much, but his cheeks were red and they had tears running down them. Your eyes started to water just at the sight of this.

Before he could speak anymore, you walked closer to him. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek. “Don’t sweat it,” you say shakily.

Neither of you knew what to say, but if one of you didn’t say something, it was just going to go back to how it was before.

You’re the one to crack first. You wrap your arms around his waist, head in the crook of his neck. “I’ve missed you so much,” you say, crying into his neck.

“I-I’ve missed you too,” he admits. And just like that, it feels like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders. He wraps his arms around you and lightly cries onto your shoulder.

It’s been a long time since you’ve spoken to each other, let alone touched each other. “I’m sorry.”

You pull back from him a bit, “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you smile up at him.

He lets you go, wiping his tears away, while you do the same.

“I-I should get back home,” you say, hoping he’ll propose something to make the night flip around. But he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should get back too. Oh uh, do you want my new number?”

You perk up immediately to his suggestion. “Yeah! Of course!” You take your phone out, giving it to him. Once he types his number in, you give him yours.

You both say your goodbyes and head in opposite directions.

~~~~~

Over the next couple of months, you and Armin start to get in touch again. You can’t visit each other that often because of how far apart you are, but you try to every other weekend. Every time you can see him though, it’s a pleasure. Going to bookstores or libraries to be bookworms together or just getting food, every moment was bliss.

Your feelings for him started to come back too. This time, you have a pretty good feeling he likes you back, but you weren’t completely sure, so you didn’t say anything.

You two started video calling again, this time at least a little bit every evening with little to no exception. You both adored each other and loved geeking out together about things.

But you still had to work. You didn’t bring up anything about your struggles to him, he probably didn’t want to hear and you don’t want to be a burden.

That is, until you got laid off from both of your jobs in the same week. It was the end of the week and the coffee shop you worked at had gone out of business and the gas station found someone to do your job for less money.

You came home that day and just dropped to the floor crying. You didn’t know what to do. You were stuck with no job after barely getting by and all you could do was just sob as it felt like the world crumbled around you. You were completely distraught.

“Shut up!” you hear your neighbor yell as he bangs on the wall separating your rooms. You choke back your cries and pick yourself up to just curl up in your bed, sobbing into a pillow.

You suddenly wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. You drag yourself out of bed and rummage through your bag. You find your phone, slide back into bed, pick up, and turn your camera off.

“Hey Y/n!” Armin exclaims. He sounds so happy to see you.

“Hey,” you try to sound fine, but your voice cracks and you sniffle a little.

Armin takes note of it, “Why’s your camera off?” he asks inquisitively.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, wanting him to just take over the conversation and tell you about his day.

“Are you okay Y/n?”

“Just ignore it, I just woke up.” He takes a minute to try to figure out how to respond. “Just uh- How was your day?” you ask quickly, trying to change the subject.

He cautiously talks to you about it, knowing something’s up. You put in some headphones so you can have him right in your ears and just lay on your bed.

He tells you about the quiz he had that day, how Eren got into a fight, how spring break started, and it starts to calm you down, just having someone talk so casually to you like you’re having a normal conversation.

“So, how was your day?” he asks you in return. That snaps you out of it, you start crying again. You mute your mic and try to get your composure back.

“Y/n? Oh, you’re muted? Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was low and considerate, trying to help calm you down. “I don’t mind, if you want to talk about it, we can. If not that’s fine too.”

You unmute your mic, “I’m tired,” you say, voice breaking as you speak.

“Hey, that’s alright, tired of what?” he asks you.

“I don’t have a job anymore, and I’m barely getting by. I just want a steady income or a new opportunity,” you say, getting more and more unconsolable by the second.

Armin always has his ways though, “Hey, you’re going to be okay. What happened?”

You sniffle and take a deep breath. “Well this coffee shop I worked for went out of business and-“ you take a second to sniffle and cough, “I got fired from the gas station I worked at.”

“You were working two jobs?” He’s a little shocked, but doesn’t act like it. He doesn’t want to throw you off your train of thought. You nod like he can see you, then make a sound of affirmation.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says. He sounds calm and collected, trying to just make you feel better. His voice is quiet and comforting.

“I-If it isn’t too much to ask, Armin, could you come over tomorrow? I just wanna hang out with you,” you say.

Armin takes a minute, thinking of what to say. “I can come over tonight if you want.”

You want him to, you really do, but you say, “It’s a long drive and it’s the middle of the night, Armin.”

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s the least I can do.” You try to convince him otherwise but he’s already hung up. You pull your legs to your chest and put your head down. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not worth his time. He’s going to have to drive an hour just to get to where you are.

After a couple minutes, you hear your phone ringing again. It’s him. You pick up.

“Hey, I’m in the car now,” he said.

“Armin, I’m too far from you. You’ll have to drive 2 hours tonight, just to get back and forth.

“Then I’ll just stay the night with you.” You were a little shocked by him just saying that, but you welcomed it.

“I know you want to be here for me now, but you don’t have to drive an hour in the middle of the night just to comfort me.”

“Just an hour? So you’re agreeing I can stay over?” He was more lighthearted now, trying to cheer you up.

You sigh, say, “I guess” and lightly chuckle.

“It’ll be just like the sleepovers we had when we were younger.”

~~~~~

“Hold still!” you said, “You’re gonna make me mess up.” You were sitting criss cross with Armin on your bedroom floor, painting his nails a light blue color.

“Hey, you’re the reason you have that streak going halfway up your finger, you couldn’t hold still either.” You chuckled, looking down at your fingernails he just painted.

“Oh well, what’s done is done,” you say, putting the brush back in the bottle. “Tada!”

He looks down at his nails, then blows on them to try to get the polish to dry quicker. “They look great.” You look at him and smile, and he does too, but his smile soon fades into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” you say, putting the polish away and sitting next to him.

“People are gonna make fun of me because of this.”

“Hey, don’t think that way, if they do, I’ll beat ‘em up!” you smile, making a fist with your hand.

“Y/n, no,” he looks at you, trying to get you to back down.

“Okay fine, only if they hit you first.”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” he raises his voice.

Then you hear a voice from downstairs, “Go to bed kids!” You sigh, getting up and reaching your hand out for Armin.

“I’ll be okay.” He takes your hand, standing up. He goes over to his bag as you climb into your bed.

You yawn, “What do you have there?”

“A book and a flashlight. I hope you don’t mind. If you do I’ll just put them away.”

“No, it’s okay. What book?” He moves a little closer to you, showing you the cover with a smile on his face. He sits next to you and starts going on about the plot and all the characters, flipping through the pages showing you his favorite parts.

After a while he’s reading it to you, trying to keep quiet because he doesn’t want anyone to know you’re both still up. He’s getting to a part he’s quite passionate about when he looks at you. You’re half asleep under your blanket, trying to keep your eyes open.

He stops reading for a moment, “Sorry I’m boring you, I’ll go to sleep.” He goes to his makeshift bed, a pile of blankets with a ton of pillows underneath, and his sleeping bag on top. It’s just a few feet away from your bed.

You sit up a little, rubbing your eyes. “It’s not boring at all. It’s quite relaxing actually.” You wrap the blanket higher up on your body, before laying on your bed to look at him. “Tell me more,” you say.

He smiles. He turns the light off and his flashlight on, getting under the covers and flipping through his book to find the good part. He starts reading again, in a hushed voice. You cuddle up against your pillow, watching him.

He looks so absorbed in the world of that book. Reading you a chapter, occasionally pausing to tell you context since you haven’t read it. He’s smiling throughout it all.

You close your eyes, listening to him continue. Soon enough, you’re asleep. He falls asleep shortly after.

~~~~~

“Oh yeah, I remember those,” you say wiping your eyes and smiling. “You gonna paint my nails again?”

“Only if you let me read to you,” he says.

“Of course you can.” You two continue just making small talk for a while, until he pulls into a gas station.

“Well, I’m gonna hang up for now, okay?” he asks you.

“Okay,” you say, pulling your blanket closer to your body.

“I’ll be right over.”

“Alright,” you say. He’s about to hang up when you say, “Wait.” He stops what he’s doing and puts his phone back up to his ear. “I- I love you, Armin.”

He pauses for a moment. “I love you too, Y/n,” he says, before hanging up.

With a blush across your face, you stare up at your ceiling. He’s calmed you down so much by just talking to you over the phone. You get up, getting changed out of your work clothes. Not into anything fancy, but just a baggy t-shirt and a loose pair of pajama pants.

As you’re getting dressed, you’re thinking it over. Did he really mean what he said? Or if he did, did he mean it in a super friendly way? You don’t know how this is going to work out. On one hand, he could actually have feelings for you, or on the other you could have just made your whole relationship awkward.

“But what’s done is done,” you thought. There’s no going back now. You sat back down, waiting about 45 minutes. You wanted to cry but you felt too tired even for that.

You heard three loud knocks coming from your door.

“Y/n, it’s me,” you heard Armin say from outside. You get off your bed, go over to the door and unlock it. Armin’s standing there with a bag. “Hey,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve missed you Armin,” you say. You don’t know why you said it, you were just talking to him.

“Well I’m here now,” he says, letting go of you. You step aside for him to come in. He goes to your coffee table and places the bag down. “While I was at the gas station, I picked you up some of these.” He takes out a plastic container filled with cookies, and a bottle of your favorite drink.

You walk closer picking up the drink, “You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” he says. He grabs your hand, “I never forgot about you.” That made you think back to what Jean had said to you at the bar. You put the drink back on the table and wrap your arms around Armin’s waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He puts his arms around your shoulders and holds you close. “It’s okay, Y/n, I’ll never leave again.”

He doesn’t end the hug, but once you’ve calmed down a little, he spaces you two apart so he can look at you. He says, “If you want we could pop a movie in, or I could paint your nails, or read to you, anything you want to do.”

“Could we just talk for a bit?” you ask, as he hangs his jacket over the side of the couch. You felt bad for dragging him out here if you were just going to watch a movie or something you could easily do by yourself. He nods and you bring him over to the couch.

You sit to the left of him and lean your head on his shoulder. “I don’t really know what I want to talk about, I think I’ve told you most of what’s happened.”

“That’s okay. So, what job do you think you’re gonna get after this?”

“I don’t know,” you say, looking down. “I don’t think I’ll find one easily.”

“I can help you find something in the morning if you want.”

“Sure.” You both stop talking for a minute.

“Do you have any other friends?” he asks.

“No, not really. I had some friends at the coffee shop I worked at, but now that’s gone out of business. I never really spent time with them either, they were just people I talked to.”

“If you want, I can introduce you to some of my friends. I know they’re far away, but if you’re not busy, we could meet halfway, maybe once a week.”

“Like at the bar?”

“Yeah, just a better place than that,” he says. You look up at him, and then down at his hand. You take it.

“Where do you want to go?” You look back up at him, waiting for a response. He blushes as you hold his hand, looking away.

“Well if it’s all of us, some of my friends will probably want to go to a club or something, but if that’s too much, we can just go get food or see a movie.”

“What if it’s just you and me?” He looks back at you, cheeks still flushed. “Do you want to go the library or something at some point?”

“Sure,” he says. You’re thinking for a moment. You’re holding hands with your best friend while your head is on his shoulder, after he drove an hour just to comfort you. You were gonna have to tell him at some point. He wouldn’t just confess to you.

You start to get tired, it was relaxing to be in this position. You yawn, getting the attention of Armin.

“You should go to bed.”

“I’m not that tired, plus you just got here.”

“That’s alright, I don’t mind. And I bet you are tired. You’ve been crying a lot today.” He brushes some hair out of your face, stands up, and takes both of your hands. “Come on, you need to sleep.”

You both part hands and you go to the bathroom for a moment to wash up. When you come out, Armin’s checking his phone with his jacket over his arm.

“Guess I’ll be on my way,” he says.

“Wait, I thought you were staying?” you ask confused. You wanted him to stay.

“Do you want me to? I kind of just said I was without asking you.”

You go closer to him, “Well I made you come all the way out here, so the least I can do is let you stay.”

“You didn’t make me, Y/n, I chose to come.” He puts his phone in his pocket.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I’m burdening you.”

“Y/n,” he takes both of your hands in his own, “There’s nothing I want more than for you to feel better.”

“God, you even remember that.” You look down, starting to feel your eyes water.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he says, wiping a tear from your cheek. You look back up at him, he’s concerned, but he’s smiling at you.

You let go of his hands and hug him. “I love you, Armin,” you say, “and I mean it.” He quickly puts his arms around you, while you let out a shaky breath. You continue, “I have since middle school, it’s not just from this.”

He puts his face in your neck, starting to tear up. “I have too,” he says with a quavering voice. You two stand there, overcome with emotion, holding each other. You pull back for a moment, cupping his face and brushing a tear off his cheek. “I love you, Y/n.”

You smile up at him, still while blubbering. You pull him back and you both rock each other for a moment.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” you say, leading him to your bed. He puts his jacket over your chair and his phone on your nightstand. Once he’s done, you already have your legs under the covers. You open your arms and he climbs in next to you. He hugs you, then you both lay on your sides, facing each other.

You reach for his cheek again, just holding it. “God, you look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand. “You look stunning.” You smile and let out a little chuckle.

“I love you,” you say again. God, you’d have never thought you’d be saying this to him, especially tonight.

“I love you too.” It was a short and simple phrase but it made your cheeks darken and you felt butterflies in your stomach. You lean a little bit forward, kissing him. You both close your eyes as he kisses back.

After a couple seconds, you both part. He pulls the blanket over you, wrapping you in it. “Goodnight,” he says, turning the light off.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~~

You open your eyes, to see that no one’s there. The other side of the bed is empty. You sit up a little, before smelling food cooking from the kitchen.

After around 15 minutes of just laying in bed, you get up and go see what’s cooking. Armin’s at your oven, pulling muffins out of it.

He turns around to see you, a smile on his face. “Good morning!” He starts putting some of the muffins on a cooling rack, “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” you say, sitting at the table.

“That’s good. I used some mix from your cupboard, I hope you don’t mind.” He takes some of the muffins and puts them on plates for the both of you.

“It’s fine,” you yawn and look down at the table. There’s a newspaper in front of you.

Armin comes over to the table and places one plate in front of the newspaper. “Look at the bottom.” You look down the newspaper and see an ad for some small shop that’s hiring. “Thought maybe you’d be interested.”

“Thanks,” you say as he sits down. “So, are we a thing now?” you ask shyly, looking up at him.

“Yea, if you’re interested.”

“Of course I am.”

“Well so am I,” he giggles.

You start reading into the newspaper a little more. What’s done is done, and you’re happy about it.

[talisragnell]

A Tale of Two Thieves

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Notes: Casey belongs to @midnightsramblings and this is an intro piece I wrote for his ship with Zeke. Their ship name ends up being Cake of all things.

The manor was dark as a storm raged outside, lightning flashes leaving twisted shapes on the walls. They illuminated everything in the twisted corridors, from the antique furniture that stood in the darkness, stately and imposing, to the gilded mirrors with ornate detailing.

Everything in the home seemed to be made of wood of a deep, chocolate brown. The floors were made of the same wood and everything was polished until it gleamed. The windows were of the kind that the glass was crisscrossed with metal, each one made up of scores of little glass diamonds. In some rooms,  the ceiling had ornate plastering in the shape of plants or even faces.

It was a beautiful home, and an old one. But on this particular night, the halls contained an intruder. Footfalls, silent in the dark. Eyes peering and fingers prying, in search of things that did not belong to them. A thief.

Or... maybe two.

Zeke smirked as a peal of thunder shook the house. He’d always loved storms and the energy they had, somehow managing to put him at ease and make him buzz with the need to do something. Anything, just to match the energy that laid thick in the air all around him.

He moved carefully through the dark, his vision unhampered by the dark. His eyes were more effective than any human’s and saw with perfect clarity in nearly any variety of darkness. However, as a result, they were sensitive to extremely bright light.

But he didn’t foresee that being a problem, as he approached the room he knew held his prize. The owner of the house had an artifact, a gorgeous necklace with an extraordinarily rare, extremely large crystal. It was worth quite a lot. About $250 million, from what Zeke had learned.

After a moment of pause to ready himself, he tried the door. It was locked, of course. But he had figured he’d see if the owner had been stupid enough to leave it unlocked.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Zeke slipped down onto his knees, fluid as shadow. Deft fingers pulled tools from their places among his clothes, sliding them into the lock. It was a very complex one for being so old and he found himself amused and surprised. He hadn’t worked this particular variety before although he’d heard of them.

Chubb detector locks, they were called. They were a normal lever lock, but with added protection. The lock was built so that if anyone tried to unlock the door with anything but the true key, it would jam. And then, only the true key would be able to unlock it while it was jammed. Because of the way it was designed, the owner would know when someone had attempted to pick their door, because to unjam the lock they’d have to turn their key the opposite way.

Zeke smirked as he gently prodded the levers inside, noting there were five of them. He’d always wanted to try his hand at one of these and he knew he’d only have one shot. If he pushed any of the levers up too high, they’d jam the lock, and he knew for a fact this was the only way into this room. Otherwise, he’d just have picked his way in through the window.

Still, he was looking forward to the challenge.

Wordlessly, he used his tools to prod at the levers. Every touch was gentle, minute. Painstaking. He tested them carefully, giving himself a long moment to get a feel for this bastard of a lock.

His tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated, head tilting to the side as he listened for every little sound. He focused entirely on his task, the hall and storm outside falling away around him.

This lock was a puzzle. A game. And how he adored games.

It took him time, but he slowly found the correct placement of this first lever. Then the second. Each sliding into place, until...

Finally...

The lock clicked open.

A smirk slid across his face at his triumph and he had to struggle to contain the small laugh that threatened to bubble from his lips. He’d figured it out.

He’d won.

But his elation was short-lived when he glanced at his watch and noticed how long it had taken him.

Four minutes.

Zeke made a face. That amount of time was likely to get him caught in the future. He’d have to use some of his earnings from his client to buy a similar lock to practice on.

With a frustrated sigh, he stood abruptly. He pushed the door open carefully, keeping an eye out for traps. Seeing none, he made his way into the room.

The diamond stood on a cushioned pedestal at the far end of the small room, no bigger than a study. In fact, given the bookcases full of artifacts that were built into the walls, Zeke suspected that was the room’s original purpose.

As he approached the pedestal, Zeke supposed the owner hadn’t thought he’d need any defense besides that lock. It was an extremely complex lock, after all, and notoriously difficult to pick.

But, he mused as he stared down at the necklace, it obviously hadn’t been enough.

After a cursory examination of the pedestal, Zeke decided it was safe to lift the necklace from it. His fingers slid underneath the platinum setting, lifting the massive blue diamond up to dangle in front of his eyes.

It was beautiful, he had to admit. But probably not enough to merit all the lives lost fighting over it throughout history.

He decided he’d have to look at it later, in a room with enough light to make it sparkle and gleam. But for now, well...

Zeke grinned to himself, opening one of his belt pouches and sliding his prize securely inside.

He made his way out of the room, kicking the door shut behind him as he made his way out. Now that he knew his way, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled through the mansion like he owned the place.

He didn’t move any less quietly, but he moved much more confidently. He’d figured out earlier that all the staff were hiding in their quarters, cowering from the storm.

Idly, he wondered if any of his traps had caught anything. He’d set up a few in spots around the outside of the mansion, spots he knew other thieves would be using to observe the mansion. He knew several others had been hired to steal the jewel, and he really didn’t feel like fighting any of them.

Normally, he was all for playing all kinds of games. But tonight... his prize was a bit too valuable for that.

Even so... He figured a cursory check of his trap would be good. He’d only set three, all of them simple ankle traps. And he was curious to meet his colleagues, after all.

Zeke slid out of the side door he’d picked his way into earlier, finding his way out into the rain. He lifted his face to it, grinning as he felt the cold drops run down his face.

He tilted his head back down, making his way over to the one in the ruined, burnt husk of the old kitchen. With old manors like this, the kitchen was often separate. It was the building most likely to burn down, so it was beneficial to have it separate from the main house. The house had been more modernly renovated to include a modern kitchen, and a rather nice one too.

Granite countertops and everything. Zeke had to admit he was jealous.

But they had left this old ruin near the main house, unmonitored. Quite stupid of them, quite good for him.

And for the other thieves he knew had been casing the house.

With a soft sigh, Zeke stepped on a large rock outside the old kitchen, slid the board blocking the window to the side, and slipped carefully inside.

He was pleased to find that his trap had worked, a smirk gracing his lips as he examined the man caught like a mouse in his trap.

Zeke had to admit he was handsome, even as he hung upside down. Broad-shouldered, well-muscled, and tall. Combat boots, black jeans, and a black shirt that hung to his frame beautifully. It only slipped down his stomach slightly, revealing a small glimpse of the tanned skin beneath. As his gaze traveled down the man’s form, he realized he’d never met this one before. Dirty blond hair that he was sure was often tousled hung from his head, stubble ran along his jaw. Intense blue-green eyes stared at him, so focused that he drew in a deep breath upon locking gazes with him.

Well fuck, he was hot.

“So...” the man began as he spun slowly, clearing his throat. “This isn’t what you think it is.”

Zeke laughed then, eyes dancing, “Oh, it isn’t?”

He waited for a moment, his grin widening as he watched the man’s face go from vaguely irritated to confused. It only took a split second longer than that for realization to slide across his face.

“I... suppose that all depends on what you think this is?” the man offered, his slow turning making him twist away from Zeke right afterward.

“Hmmm,” Zeke chuckled. He grabbed an old broomstick from the corner, beside a collapsed table. He used it to poke the other thief, turning him a little faster so he wasn’t talking to his back.

“Ah, there’s your pretty face. Thank you,” the other thief remarked dryly.

“Awww,” Zeke snickered, holding his hand over his heart dramatically. “That’s sweet of you.”

"My pleasure.  Mind returning the favor by, I don't know, letting me down?  The blood is rushing to my head.”

Zeke tapped a finger to his lips, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Well...”

He waited a long moment, adding some suspense.

“I think the fuck not,” Zeke said cheerfully as he dropped his gaze back down quickly, his expression impish.

"Wow, way to be a dick," the other thief muttered under his breath.  "I asked nicely and everything."

Zeke hummed as he produced the necklace from his pouch, dangling it as close to the blond’s face as he dared for a moment, “Considering I have this, I don’t think playing nice would work out in my favor.”

“Well damn,” he said, letting out a deep sigh as he slowly turned away from Zeke again. “I knew I should have stayed home and watched Mean Girls.”

Zeke blinked slowly and turned the other man around with his stick again, then groaned, “Hot and has good taste in movies. Why are all the good ones trying to steal the things I rightfully stole?”

“Have to get your attention to steal your heart somehow,” the blond drawled.

“Smooth,” Zeke laughed, tossing the necklace into the air and catching it before sliding it back into his belt pouch. “Very smooth.”

“Thank you,” the other man said cheerfully, his tone holding more than a hint of sarcasm. “A compliment from a cute thief like you almost makes up for the trap I'm currently dangling from.”

“I’ll make it up to you sometime,” Zeke replied, amusement lacing his voice. “For now, I should get out of here.”

He stepped back towards the window he’d come in from, “I’m afraid I’ll have to be on my way for now though, but before I go...”

Zeke pulled one of his throwing knives from his belt, considering the man carefully for a moment. He didn’t sense any aggression or violence from him. He was sure if he released him, he’d likely try to overpower him and steal the necklace. But... from his body language, his tone, his everything.

He was exasperated, but not interested in hurting anyone.

Zeke flipped the knife in his hand so he was holding the tip, then with a flick of his wrist sent it darting through the air. It cut into the rope holding the man up, slicing it nearly in half but not quite. It was enough that the rope would break given a few more minutes, but those minutes would buy him more than enough time to get away first.

The thief dropped a few inches, his head close to the floor now.

“Fuck not the face!” he yelped, then he blinked as he stared at the floor. “... Oh. Thank you?”  

“I wouldn’t want someone so fun getting killed for something he didn’t even steal,” Zeke said easily, turning to the window.

“Wait,” the other thief called. “What’s your name?”

Zeke paused, then turned just enough to wink at the other man, “Well, if you ever manage to beat me to a mark, you might find out.”

And then he stepped forward and pushed the board out of the way. He slipped back out into the rain, belt pouch heavy and heart lightened.

It wasn’t often that he met a thief like him.

[melonpanbread]

The New Girl’s Secret: Part 8// Peter Parker (TH)

Peter was swinging next to you as you flew next to him. Peter landed on the roof of a house and you kept flying as he ran down it and landed on his feet.

Peter shot another web to swing with when it didn’t attach to anything. Peter sighed as he started to run through the open field golf course, following your distance figure. “This suck!” Peter said out loud as he ran after you.

~

You landed softly on the bridge right above the two guys. One guy, you take as the seller, went into the van and grabbed a huge gun out, while the other guy, the buyer, waited for the seller. You looked around you for Peter, but he must have fallen behind without you realizing.

“I really need to add an A.I. system so I can keep track of Peter.” you whispered to yourself, making a mental note to upgrade your suit a bit.

You watched as the seller shot an abandoned car with the gun and there was another explosion of blue light. The seller cheered and laughed as the blue light disappeared again. However, the buyer was actually jumped at the explosion and looked very concerned.

“Now, this is crafted from a reclaimed sub-Ultron arm straight from Sokovia. Here. You try.” the seller said to the buyer as he handed him the gun.

“Man, I wanted something low-key.” the buyer said as he looked at the gun and then at the seller. “Why you tryin to upsell me, man?”

“Okay, okay. I got what you need, all right?” the seller said as he grabbed the gun back and went into the back of the van. “I got tons of great stuff here. One sec. Okay, I got black hole grenades, chitauri railguns…” the seller started to name off as he searched through the stuff.

“You letting off shots in public now? Hurry up.” another guy said to the seller. He was obviously more higher up than the seller. He was more of a driver/guard. The guard guy walked up to the buyer. “Look, times are changing. We're the only ones selling these high-tech weapons.” he said to the buyer.

Unknowingly to you, Peter had finally arrived and was climbing up a wall where you couldn’t see him.

“This must be where the ATM robbers got their stuff.” Peter said as he watched the bad guys. “Where’s __?” he questioned as he looked around him.

“I need something to stick up somebody. I'm not trying to shoot them back in time.” the buyer replied to the guard.

“I got antigravity climbers.” the seller suddenly said.

“Yo, climbers?” the buyer replied interested.

Suddenly, Peter’s phone went off and his yodeling ringtone was definitely heard.

“Peter!” you scolded quietly as you heard the familiar ringtone.

“What the heck is that!?” the guard said as he looked around.

Peter quickly pulled out his phone and saw it was Ned calling him.

“Did you set us up??” the guard questioned the buyer as he whipped out a gun and pointed it at him.

“Hey, hey man!” the buyer said in defense as he raised his hands up.

“Hey! Hey, come on. If you gonna shoot at someone, shoot at me!” Peter said as he jumped down from his spot and landed on his feet.

“Alright.” the guard said as he turned the gun at Peter. You quickly jumped down and kicked the gun out of the guard’s hand as you landed. The buyer quickly ran into his car and drove away as Peter shot a web at the gun and pulled it away from you and the guard. You ducked at the guard went to go punch you, before turning away to go to the driver’s side of the van. You went to go after him, but Peter called out to you.

“Wanderer! Look out!!” Peter cried as he ran towards you. You turned around as Peter reached you and the seller had another weapon around his hand. He quickly punched you into Peter with another blue light blast. You and Peter were sent back as the seller laughed at you guys. The seller quickly got into the van as the guard drove off.

You and Peter landed on the ground, on your stomachs and groaned in pain.

“What the heck was that?” Peter asked you.

“Beats me, but it hurt like crazy!” you replied as you. “They’re getting away!”

“Oh no they don’t!” Peter said as he shot a web to the open back of the van. Peter was dragged away from you. You got up and quickly turned on your rocket boosters and followed them. You caught up to them as Peter crashed into a trash can when the van made a hard turn. Peter shot another web with his free hand. He now had two webs on the van. As you flew by, you grabbed a lid to a trash can to help Peter with. Peter tried to stand up as you flew closer to him to give him the lid to stand on. You noticed the seller had a different gun in hand and was aiming at Peter.

“Spidey, watch out!” you exclaimed as the seller shot at Peter, blasting off one of the van doors in the process. The beam was still heading towards Peter. You quickly flew in front of Peter and deflected the blast with the lid. It destroyed the lid, but at least it saved you and Peter. You tossed the ruined lid aside and continued to fly next to Peter.

“Oww, my butt!!” Peter exclaimed as he was basically sitting while being dragged. The seller continued to shoot at you guys. You flew back and forth, dodging the shots, as Peter… well, Peter was lucky to barely dodge the shots. The van suddenly took another sharp turn, and this time the seller lost his grip on the gun and it flew out and landed in the ditch near by. The van was swerving and taking a bunch of turns, trying to shake Peter off or into you. The guard was successful as he rammed Peter into a brick post with an address on it. Peter’s webs broke off. You followed the van still as Peter shot another web at the other van door, only for it to break off. You looked back at Peter in worry.

“Keep following them!! I’ll catch up!!” he yelled out to you as you continued to follow the van.

~

You followed the van as the seller kept shooting at you. You were able to dodge them, but it prevented you from actually catching them. Luckily for you, the gun got jammed and the seller was trying to unjam it. You saw your opportunity and pushed your rocket boosters a little hard to gain a lot more speed. You reached out and almost grabbed the bumper of the van when something grabbed you by the foot and lifted you into the air.

“What the-?!” you exclaimed. You were able to turn in to see who had you and saw a man with a mask that completely covered his face and metal wings and talons. He lifted you up high, about 15 feet and counting above the houses. “Let go!!” you exclaimed as you raised your hand to shoot a blast at him.

“Bye, bye.” the man simply said before crushing the rocket booster that was in his talon and tossing you aside, away from the van.  

You tried not to scream as you fell towards the ground. “Come on, come on!” you said to yourself as you started to start the one good rocket booster. You were getting awfully close to the ground as you still struggled to start the rocket booster. At the last possible second, the one good booster turned on and slowed your momentum a bit. You still crashed into the ground and tumbled a couple times before completely stopping. You groaned from the impact, but luckily you slowed down enough to not break any bones.. But you were definitely gonna be sore and possibly bruised in the morning.  

“Definitely need to update this suit..” you sighed as you sat up. You looked at your surrounding to see where you were at. In the distance, you saw a weird, tiny purple glow. You slowly got up and walked towards the purple glow.

~

Tag list:

@spiderneds

@multifandombackpack

@angstyween

@cocastyle

@lltrashll

@fangirl-colo

@gerardway-has-socks-yeah

@hbmoore1986

@musiclover1263

@julimelodi

[neverangle]

Waltz

Title: Waltz

Fandom: Carmilla

Pairing: Carmilla/Laura

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am poor. I owe 80,000 dollars in student loans. I just had an idea about our favorite girls and felt like writing for the first time in forever.

A/N: I am sorry if this sucks. Haven’t written in forever. Got this headcannon in my head and had to write it. Was encouraged to do so. Unbetad Here it is.

 The rain has been falling quietly all day. Not that the occupant of the little studio apartment had really allowed herself to notice. Laura was too busy writing on her laptop, trying desperately to finish her newest article. It wasn’t much of a story, but it was still something. It was important that the world heard about not just the big things, like a vengeful goddess trying to tare the world apart to get to her long dead lover, but the small things as well. Her current article was about a small little store that was down on its luck.

She had stumbled on it when looking for a new coffee place since the old one switched her favorite coco, and really it shouldn’t be that hard to find a place that used actual chocolate instead of that powdered stuff right? She was just turning the corner to the place google maps had just suggested when she stumbled on a feisty older woman fighting with the lock and cursing like a sailor. Laura couldn’t help but chuckle to herself in memory. The woman reminded her of Carmilla when she couldn’t get the door to the bathroom to unjam like she used to, when she had super vampire strength.

What could she do but try and help? That is her mo. after all. Even though it seems to keep getting her in trouble. Like with that truck driver and his husband. How was she supposed to know that they were just roleplaying? It was an honest mistake for a kidnapping. Laura had quickly walked over and offered her services. Picking the lock just like Carmilla had taught her that one night they lost the keys to…well when they had lost the keys.

The woman, Darla, was so grateful. Thank yous led to in-depth conversations about each other’s lives and the next thing Laura knows she is promising to write an article about the little shop to try and help drum up business. Which would be a whole lot easier if she could think beyond her own exhaustion. Being an adult in the real world was a lot harder than at any university. Fighting supernatural forces intent on destroying her freshmen experience and feeding people to demon fish was easier.

           Stretching out her sore muscles from sitting over her laptop and staring at all the tabs open. She couldn’t help but let out a drawn-out sigh. Reaching for her hot coco she frowned at the fact it was empty. Cold she could handle, then it was like fancy chocolate milk. Empty meant getting up and making more. Getting up meant movement. And more movement the stretching was not something Laura was up to at the moment.

           Laura had just psyched herself up to move when two delicate yet strong hands slid down her shoulders and over her arms and a raspy voice whispered in her ear, “Is it break time yet cutie? As fun as it is watching you pretend to work while rereading your fanfiction, I was hoping for a different kind of fun.”

           Laura first squeaked in surprise before quickly melted into the person now holding her from behind. “I was not reading fanfiction. I was writing an article.” She tried to sound put out by the accusation, but couldn’t force herself to. Not when all she wanted to do was bury herself in the leather and incense smelling arms. She have been temporarily caught in another world, that doesn’t mean that the familiar scent of her lover couldn’t drag her firmly back into this one. “As long as your fun means I don’t really have to move I will be all good.”

           “I’m afraid that my activities require quite a bit of movement, also for you to get a little wet. Trust me cupcake it will be worth it.” Carmilla purred in her ear.

Laura felt a second wind hit at her broody ex-vampires words and was up and moving before she could remind herself to be smooth. Not that she was ever smooth, but she liked to pretend. She was moving towards the door to their bedroom when Carmilla’s throaty chuckle and hand grabbing hers stopped her. Pulling the over eager journalist back into her arms, the ex-vampire smiled a true blue, if not very amused smile. “You’re going the wrong way buttercup. Follow me.”

Laura could only look at her amused lover confused as she was dragged out the door of their apartment and up to the roof where a communal garden for the building was. The moment the cold rain hit her face she shocked out her confusion and trying to go back inside. “Carmilla it is raining. We could get sick. And I really don’t want to deal with you sick again.” Considering how long it had been since her lover had been sick, dealing with her first cold since getting her heartbeat back had not been pleasant. The broody brunette was even more of a finnicky cat now then she was when she was a giant panther.

Carmilla just smiled and pulled Laura into her arms. The grumbling reporter only resisting a little as she was dragged to the middle of the roof. Once they were surrounded with the plants that were beginning to die as fall took over where summer once was, Carmilla settled them into a familiar position. One they found themselves in when one or the other were feeling silly, or romantic. It really depended on what they thought their partner needed to  get out of their head and back to them.

“Dance with me Laura,” Carmilla whispered. Using her name to add a little intensity to the moment.

“Always,” Laura smiled.

Just like that Carmilla led Laura in a waltz. The rain coming down steadily, washing away the past. Washing away their sins for a little while. It was just them as they laughed and danced. Allowing themselves to be wrapped up in each other and the music created from the breathing, their heartbeats and the rain.

Three days later Carmilla was in bed with a cold and Laura was going into overprotective girlfriend mode trying to make her feel better. That moment, where they just allowed themselves to exist with each other, to just be in love was so worth all the tissues and gross cough medicine.

[ciathyzareposts]

The Legacy: Won! (with Summary and Rating)

                   The Legacy

United Kingdom

Magnetic Scrolls (developer); MicroProse (publisher)

Released 1992 for DOS

Date Started: 3 June 2020 Date Ended: 17 June 2020

Total Hours: 25 Difficulty: Moderate-Hard (3.5/5) Final Rating: (to come later) Ranking at time of posting: (to come later)

           Summary:

A first-person adventure game set in a haunted house, The Legacy tries to blend point-and-click adventure gameplay, with inventory-based puzzles, with the tiled movement, real-time combat, and character growth of an RPG of the Dungeon Master line. In the end, some design choices make the game not work very well as an RPG, and it has a frustrating interface. I still slightly recommend it for the satisfying story.

            *****

          For me, adventure games usually start out fun. They tend to have more immersive settings than RPGs (at least of this period), so I enjoy absorbing the backstory and lore. I start exploring and mapping. I solve a few light puzzles and begin to feel good about myself. But there almost always comes a point in which I start to find the game increasingly unwieldy–a point where it has too many rooms, too many objects, too many puzzles, to the extent that even if I’m not technically blocked, I still start to feel mired.

I reached that point with The Legacy shortly after the last session. I can point to nothing technically wrong that the game did. It just kind of exhausted me. In particular, knowing that I was going to have to travel to other dimensions started as a mildly interesting prospect, then an annoying one, then an (illogically) enraging one. I mean, this mansion is already the biggest goddamned mansion in the entire world. Seven floors of it weren’t enough?           

By the end of the game, Irene was wearing a skirt, samurai armor, and a demon mask.

         I don’t often get the same feeling with RPGs, which is why I’m tending, towards the end of my experience, to think of The Legacy as more an adventure game with RPG elements than a true hybrid. The problem is that while The Legacy does feature experience and the associated development of skills based on that experience, none of the skill-building seems to really matter. Enemies don’t get notably easier as you increase your skill with weapons. As for other skills, there’s rarely a threshold above which you must build a skill to accomplish a task. Instead, each task has a slightly higher chance of success the higher the skill. So doubling your “Mechanical” skill means you only have to try five times to unjam that weapon instead of ten. RPGs tend to feature characters that grow more markedly in power. Aside from having more resources, my Legacy character didn’t seem that much stronger at the end of the game than at the beginning.   There is one exception to that statement, and that is in the area of spells. The spellcasting system in The Legacy is so flawed that I can’t believe the developers let it out the door. The basic problem is that they’ve populated the game with about 20 interesting and useful spells, and then they make you paranoid about casting any of them by making spell power a precious resource, reclaimable only (or almost only) through the use of a limited number of magic crystals.

There are times in the game that it seems like you have way too many crystals to ever worry about running out. But then you reach the lower levels of the basement and find a dozen or so magically-locked doors that will only open to “Key of the Shadow Lord”–and not just one successful casting, but sometimes multiple castings at the highest power. There were times that a single door wiped out my entire magic bar. The paltry two crystals that I’d saved “in reserve” turned out to be laughably inadequate when I started encountering these doors. Soon, I was wishing that I had never cast a single spell the rest of the game–that I had saved all my energy for those damned doors, and all my experience for improving my skill with the spell. When I ended the game, I didn’t have a single crystal remaining–that’s how close I came to not being able to win at all, despite your warnings and despite playing (I thought) conservatively with magic.    The annoying thing is that there are some great spells, offensive and defensive, that would have been useful throughout the game. A few tweaks would have created an adventure game with an excellent RPG-style magic system, such as allowing spell points to regenerate over time, or allowing the character to rest more often to recover both health and spell points. Instead, they made a game that would put a large percentage of players in a “walking dead” situation in the last tenth of the game.       The resting system is so bizarre, in fact, that I think it must be bugged. In 25 hours of gameplay, I only got explicitly tired once, and was only able to rest twice. It’s like there was no difference between game time and real time. Similarly bugged is the food system: I was able to eat maybe four or five times, leaving a dozen or so unopened food items. I didn’t particularly want to have to eat more often (especially since food is finite), but resting is a key method of health and mana recovery in most RPGs, and a true hybrid would have been more lenient.

The story didn’t develop a lot from the summary I gave last time. The builder of the house, Elias Winthrop, made a deal with the dark god Belthegor to bind his family to service. Over the centuries, descendants of Elias, mad or evil, expanded on the house, made deals with lesser gods allied with Belthegor, and ensured Belthegor’s return to the material plane every 50 years. This event was meant to be special, with the last descendants of Winthrop’s slated for sacrifice so that Belthegor could enter the plane permanently.             

The areas of The Legacy

            The game ultimately consisted of ten 20 x 20 areas, a reasonably sized “dungeon” even for an RPG. You have a lot of latitude in the order of exploration, and given that you find items in all areas useful in others, I don’t suppose there’s a single “right” order except probably to clear the ground floor and upper floor first. In short:            

The Ground Floor introduces you to the game and its conventions, including your first crude weapons. Zombies roam the corridors; they’re easy to kill, and you find a fetish that allows you to walk past them with impunity.

The Upper Floor starts to deliver more information about the setting and its story. The area is crawling with ghosts, who can be addressed individually or en masse through the burning of the painting that binds them.

The third floor is somewhat nonsensically an Asylum with sterile hallways and padded cells. You encounter a lot more trouble with locked and secret doors on the level, which is prowled by blobs of fire, giant floating two-headed leeches, and an insane relative in a straitjacket.

The fourth floor is a Museum (though not public) of powerful artifacts. You learn here the rituals that you need to banish the dark gods, and you acquire some of your most powerful equipment. There are many puzzles that must be solved by returning plaques and items strewn about the mansion to their proper places in the museum. Enemies are floor slimes (almost impossible to step around) and these disgusting crab things, the latter of which can be destroyed en masse with a ritual involving statues.

          Returning plaques to the museum pedestals allowed me to take items on those pedestals.

            The Mausoleum is full of secret doors and has the bodies of former residents of the house, most alive and animated as skeletons. Kill one, and it rises again the next time you trespass on its bones unless you use “coffin dust” (which is in limited supply) to destroy it permanently. You have to kill all the enemies to get the Golden Torc, an artifact necessary to win the game.

              Cutting into a skeleton with a chainsaw.

            The Egyptian Tomb is full of magically-locked doors. The primary goal is to summon and destroy the Karcist–the transformed spirit of the house’s builder, Elias Winthrop. You have to fight your way through “sonic mummies,” capable of damaging you even through doors. You have to summon the Karcist with the “Chinese Coins” you find on the Asylum level, and once summoned, you can kill him in regular combat or by first finding his heart and destroying it in front of him.

            Old Elias changed his tune quickly once I showed him his heart.

         The Basement has a variety of demons and supplies you with information and weapons necessary for the lower levels. One important chamber lets you create an artifact necessary for the final level.

           Making the Eye of Agala in a basement room.

          The corridors of the Sub-Basement are patrolled by the dark god Alberoth. You have to use an astrolabe (from the museum) in an observatory in the Egyptian tomb to banish him. There are also burrowing worm creatures to kill.

The Sea Demon Caves are the home to walking fish creatures that demand human sacrifices, and their humanoid “servitors.” You have to get past the dark jellyfish god Melchior (I don’t believe you can kill him, but you can get him to ignore you with the Golden Torc). There are a number of teleporters, including an annoying one that takes you all the way back to the ground floor, but ultimately you find the exit to the Astral Plane and the final battle.

          One of the sea demons, which hopefully you can see better than I can.

            It’s notable that the game gives you several approaches for conquering each level. I adopted a more classic RPG approach and insisted on killing every enemy that could be killed, and this wasn’t much of a problem after the first half of the game. I ultimately exhausted the ammunition for most of the firearms, but on a lower level, I found a chainsaw that never seemed to run out of gas (I was mindful to turn it off after each combat, which helped)–and there are three or four gas cans in the game. The chainsaw got me through almost the entirety of the mausoleum and museum. I then followed some instructions in the museum to perform a ritual that made the ancient spirit of a samurai appear and embed his two swords with magic. His katana served me the rest of the game; few enemies survived more than two hits with it. On the same level, I also found a suit of samurai armor that served as my primary protection from then on, plus a demon mask that made me look like a lunatic but also strengthened my attacks.           

A little ritual provides the best weapons in the game.

        But the game also gives you a way around most enemies. Sometimes, they can simply be avoided, as in the sonic mummies, which will leave you alone if you find and carry the “boom box” (remember those?). Sometimes, there’s a puzzle you can solve to destroy them all at once, and sometimes there’s a weapon to which they are uniquely vulnerable. For instance, the worms in the sub-basement die quickly from blasts of rock salt from a modified shotgun. But by the time I reached this area, my katana was cleaving through everything so nicely that I barely bothered.             

Instead of fighting this servitor, I can make myself look like him by wearing his robes and putting a squid on my head (seriously).

         While you get some experience for killing individual monsters, you get more from solving puzzles, so the game doesn’t encourage you along an RPG mindset.

I misunderstood the nature of the Ethereal Plane until almost the end of the game. While I’d been seeing doors to it throughout the house–and you can open more by casting “Dimensional Portal” wherever you see a glyph on the wall–I wasn’t sure what its purpose was. I wasn’t even sure that all the portals went to the same place. I assumed it was some place I’d have to visit for a penultimate or ultimate showdown. Instead–although it has some monsters and one NPC–it’s more a method of fast travel around the game. If you take time to map the exits (which look like cubes), you can quickly get from, say, the sub-basement to the museum without having to find all the stairways. I was only an hour from winning when I realized how the plane worked and I thus missed its benefits for most of the game.         

The Ethereal Plane with one of its monsters and a portal to its left.

          A few notable encounters and puzzles:      

A “Magician of the Right Hand Path” named Charles Wenlock approached me in the Ethereal Plane. His “inner self” had been trapped there, and he needed to draw on my energies to escape. I said yes, even though I didn’t exactly have a surplus of magic power. In return, he gave me some advice for surviving the Astral Plane and the final confrontation with Belthegor, plus a spell. The spell was automatically “implanted in my mind,” so I didn’t notice which one it was.

            One of the few “role playing” choices in the game.

      In the Sea Demon caves, there was some kind of altar on which a stone was surrounded by a glass shield. Fiddling with the shield produced a message that it resonated with a particular note. This was a clue to use a flute that I’d previously found to play the same note, shattering the glass. It was still difficult to take the stone; electric tendrils going up and down two columns zapped me if I didn’t time it just right.

          Something feels Lovecraftian about this level.

        A juicy diary entry indicated that Josiah Maitland (grandson of Elias Winthrop) was poisoned by his wife for somehow “tricking [her] into marriage vows.” 

A note indicated that an entire Boston Police squad was killed when they tried to investigate the sea demon caves in the 1920s.

              The final confrontation takes place on the Astral Plane. Fire blobs are back, and you probably don’t have a fire extinguisher by this point. Even worse, teleportation cubes roam the hallways and transport you to other levels if they hit you. There are also energy barriers that require an artifact called the Eye of Agala, which you have to make in a ritual in the basement. Finally, Belthegor himself is behind an illusory wall. My magic was so low that I couldn’t explore the entire level. I had to take a save at the beginning and keep staking out in different directions, reloading if I didn’t find anything interesting, until I finally found the way to Belthegor.           

From the Sea Demons’ caves to the Astral Plain.

         Belthegor can kill you instantly if you don’t have the Golden Torc from the mausoleum. Even with it, you want to load up on all the magic resistance items and spells that you have before you enter. I don’t know if he’s immune to regular weapons or just extremely resistant, but I was only able to kill him with spells. Fortunately, the final battle is otherwise easy because your mana bar suddenly becomes inexhaustible. You just need to keep casting offensive spells (I alternated “Flames of Desolation” and “Obsidian Shards of Annihilation,” which is perhaps the greatest spell name ever) and pound away at “Elixir of Health” if your health gets low.         

I ended up fighting Belthegor three times because the game kept crashing during the final cinematic. This was the easiest of the battles. I didn’t even have to cast “Elixir of Health” once.

          Once Belthegor is defeated, a brief cinematic brings the game to a close. A storm gathers over the mansion, and its ghosts are freed or sucked up into it, depending on your interpretation.       

This is the brightest shot I could capture.

          Demonic eyes and skeletal faces appear in the clouds. Lightning bolts and tornadoes pummel the mansion until it is all destroyed or sucked away. A newspaper front page closes the game, suggesting the character was able to sell the property and finance a lengthy cruise. As the DOS prompt appears, you’re given instructions to give a special name to the final save, perhaps anticipating a sequel.

        I think that’s a little unfair to the police. It’s not their responsibility to explain the noncriminal destruction of property.

                 When I was done with the game, I reviewed some walkthroughs for what I missed. I never finished returning all of the items to the museum, including a plaque for a shuriken and a demonic skull, but it doesn’t appear that would have done me any good. The “Hand of Glory,” lit like a candle, would have kept the slimes from attacking me on the museum level. Oh, well. On the Sea Demon level, I could have gotten the servitors to avoid me by dressing like one of them, and I could have gotten the sea demons themselves to avoid me by burning an incense. I actually intuited both of these puzzles from the available clues, but by this point I was having fun just slashing everything with my katana.

          I wasted a lot of time reloading on the Astral Plane because I forgot to put on the crystal glasses Charles Wenlock gave me; they would have prevented random teleportation. There are rooms on both the Upper Level and Asylum level that I never was able to enter. I never found the spells “Iron Fist of Agatta” or “Swift Limbs of Mercury.” And I didn’t unlock most of the glyphs with “Dimension Door.” I think it’s a measure of a good game that you can skip some content and still make it.

        In a GIMLET, I give the game:

      6 points for the game world, perhaps the best part of the game. The mansion is suitably creepy, the backstory (while a bit derivative) suitably detailed. I like the way that you slowly learn the mansion’s history through scraps of notes, diary pages, letters, and so on. 

           The game’s epistolary revelations never get old.

            4 points for character creation and development. The mechanics are sound. I like that you can choose among multiple defined characters or create your own. I like that you can spend your experience directly on skills. I don’t like that the latter stages of the game require magic and thus punish you for not having invested heavily there, nor that development in other skills isn’t well-reflected in the game. This is not Quest for Glory, where you can choose your strength and role-play that type of character. With just a few tweaks, it could have been.

            Irene’s skills at the end of the game. Very few reached 50% on their bars and a couple never did anything.

           4 points for NPC interaction. Again, the mechanics are good, and I appreciated the dialogue options, but there are only a few people with whom you can interact.

          Dialogue options with an explorer in the Ethereal Plane.

          6 points for encounters and foes. This was another strong part of the game. I particularly liked that you could intuit the solution to most puzzles, but if you had trouble, some document or NPC dialogue would eventually spell it out for you. The puzzles were varied and fun, though not as much as some other adventure games I’ve enjoyed. The monsters are well-chosen for the setting and have their own strengths and weaknesses you have to figure out.

3 points for magic and combat. Combat is nothing special–hit or aim. The magic system could have been special if it hadn’t been so suppressed by the game’s miserly approach to magic points. 

          Slashing mummies on the Egyptian Tomb level.

        3 points for equipment. Most of it is puzzle-solving. You get two pieces of armor, a couple of magic upgrades, and far too many possibilities for weapons. I would have preferred the game content itself with one firearm than to lead so much specialized ammunition scattered around.

0 points for no economy.

3 points for a main quest with some side areas.

            Attacked by the dark god Melchior.

        5 points for graphics, sound, and interface. It gets almost all of those for graphics (good enough for what the game was trying to achieve) and sound, including (though I rarely rate it) a decent music score that accompanies the game rather than overwhelming it. The interface was mostly awful. Half the time you go to click on something, the game either ignores you or clicks on something else. The act of putting down a gun and equipping a spellbook sometimes took several minutes of fruitless clicking, often while an enemy was attacking. The limited inventory discourages carrying alternatives to most weapons or armor. Ideas like “document wallets” are only good if there’s enough space for all your documents. Having movable/resizable windows isn’t a bad idea, though I didn’t make much use of it. Really all I liked from the interface was the automap.

5 points for gameplay. It’s about as nonlinear as a game with “levels” could be. As with most adventure games, I’m vaguely curious to play it a second time as a speed run, but otherwise I don’t see it offering rewards for a second pass. The challenge level (aside from the magic thing) and length were just about right.

      That gives us a final score of 39. That seems about right. I definitely recommend it for its story, atmosphere, and encounters, but in the end it’s hard to call it a true “hybrid.” Its RPG side is simply too underdeveloped, and some key choices that would otherwise mark it as a good RPG turn out to be illusions. 

               There is nothing corresponding to that lower screen capture in the game.

            Andrew Greenberg (not the Wizardry co-creator) covered The Legacy in the October 1993 Computer Gaming World. His review is mostly positive, though his conclusion is an unremarkable statement that some may like it and some won’t. If you get a chance, take a look at his review (starts on Page 30). It strikes me as an example of awful writing, but the kind where it’s hard to explain exactly why it’s awful. Every sentence has an awkward or uninspired word selection, an awkward use of the passive voice, a joke that doesn’t quite work, or more words than are necessary. I don’t know; I may just be in a mood. The bigger issue is that Greenberg clearly isn’t as familiar with genre conventions as Scorpia and thus somewhat misses the point of The Legacy, which is that it’s a hybrid that manages to be a hybrid better than, say, B.A.T. but not as well as, say, Quest for Glory.

         European magazines rated it in the 70s and 80s. The best review from the conventional selection of magazines comes from the December 1992 PC Joker, which praises the interface, the sound and spell effects, and the overall attempt to hybridize the two genres. A few magazines compared it favorably to Elvira, which I would agree is probably its closest “competitor.” One German review (April 1993 Play Time) argued that too many items are scattered randomly in the house, hurting the game’s realism. I hadn’t thought of that, but in retrospect I agree. The point was made well in a more recent review by blogger Roland Zarate on “Late to the Game”: “The mansion makes [little sense] as an actual house. There are hundreds of rooms but no kitchen, the only bathrooms are on the east side of the second floor, and a fair portion of the rooms have literally nothing inside them.”

        MicroProse bought and closed Magnetic Scrolls the same year that The Legacy was released, so there was no sequel. The manual credits Jim Bambra for the “RPG system design” of the game; he later co-formed Pivotal Games and worked on mostly action titles, his credits ending in the early 2000s. Stephen Hand is given credit for the “plot design” and “adventure design.” His further credits, from several companies, are mostly action and racing games, with the notable exception of design credits on Warlords III: Reign of Heroes (1997) and Warlords III: Darklords Rising (1998). Just a few years ago, Magnetic Scrolls founder Hugh Steers co-founded Strand Games, which has re-released several Magnetic Scrolls titles for mobile devices, including The Pawn, Guild of Thieves, and Jinxter. Whether The Legacy is on their list is anyone’s guess.

          As for my list, we move on to Amberstar while I devote occasional time to finishing Final Fantasy but most of it to finishing The Black Gate. A Japanese eroge titled Mad Paradox just appeared at the bottom of the list, bringing us ever closer to finally finishing 1992.

     source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/the-legacy-won-with-summary-and-rating/