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7grandmel · 27 days

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Todays rip: 04/04/2024

Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess

Season 5 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume C

Ripped by Jiko Music (@jikomusic)

youtube

Requested by Memmy! (Discord)

Well, would you look at that: It's a rip request six months in the making!! I hope the wait will have been worth it, Memmy! And thank you endlessly for championing the blog so early on in its life <3.

Now - I recently spilled a lot of words regarding SiIvaGunner's fifth annual April Fools event back with Your Best Nightmario and Bowser's Finale, just four days ago. It is arguably one of the channel's all-time high points, an event that I still see discussed from time to time by random internet dwellers, even now three years later. And its clear to see why: akin to something like Mega Man Dropping January 7th‼️from earlier this year with Hella Pummel, Mario's "Death" on March 31st was an event that a huge part of the internet was already keenly aware of, one we'd all been anticipating, and one that SiIvaGunner in turn had a golden opportunity to leverage for an amazing channel event. From March 31st to April 3rd, we got to see Mario's existence as a figment be celebrated for one final day, then be entirely erased from the SiIvaGunner channel's reality at the day's end, only to then begin fighting tooth-and-nail in Your Best Nightmario for his memory to live on - a battle that, through our continued support as YouTube commenters, he was able to win in Bowser's Finale. A storybook journey, a clear beginning/middle/end structure, with a clearly-told message by the end of it all - Super Mario was back.

Yet, it still wouldn't be complete without that one last touch. Any book needs a back cover, any film its credits roll, any game a return to the title screen. Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess, then, was what truly closed the whole event out - and in typical SiIvaGunner fashion, did so in a deviously clever manner.

A lot of the appeal in this event as a whole, I feel, is just how easily understood the bit was at a moment's glance. Without even clicking on the videos, a viewer will notice Mario's gone, it's IMMEDIATELY apparent that something is wrong - and that likely drew a lot of eyes to the event that may have otherwise missed it. This shift in dynamics with how viewers engage with the SiIvaGunner channel is practically what this year's April Fools event, from just a few days ago, was entirely built on, yet there it was done in an incredibly tounge-and-cheek way. Because really, what it pretends to be doing almost goes against everything the channel is meant to be! The bait-and-switch, though not nearly as effective as it once was back in Season 1 with rips like Be Cool, Be Wild, and Be My Girl, IS core to what the SiIvaGunner channel is all about. It has always been a channel all about surprising you with something delightful, be that with surprise bangers like Beyond the Floating Isles, hilariously executed bits like THIS RIP WAS MADE BY TEETH GANG, or everything inbetween. There's a reason why I said that this year's event only *pretends* to be going against this - because the bit with this year's overly-explained, corny titles, is that the rips themselves still hold a secret bait-and-switch bit within them. Even when it appears to be quite literally explaining the joke, the channel hides further layers to rips just out of sight.

But what does all of that have to do with Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess? Well, what I'm trying to say isn't that the Season 5 April Fools day event betrayed the essence of SiIvaGunner or anything - rather, that by intentionally breaking its own rules for an entire day's worth of uploads, rules it had otherwise kept up for five whole years prior, it made this sudden subversion and the stakes of the event hit all the harder. That part may be rather obvious, sure, yet the brilliant thing here is that as a closer to the event, Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess employs the exact same trick in reverse order. Because after an entire day's worth of rips going against the grain, a storyline clear as crystal to follow no matter what rip you've landed on - the LAST thing anyone would've expected would be for it to close with something so seemingly low-key, standard-fare, outright NORMAL for the SiIvaGunner channel, as a single rip of Super Mario 64's Staff Roll theme. I'm sure many were expecting a grand fusion collab, some sort of CCC-esque lore video, a true mind-blowing celebration of the journey's end...and yet, to me, this return to normalcy is absolutely brilliant in so many ways, both as a subversion of those expectations, but on so many layers yet deeper. Yes, it marks the return to the SiIvaGunner status quo, it marks that Super Mario has finally been remembered - yet look beyond that, and you may just realize that Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess's one joke subtly hides layers of meaning, that almost recontexualize the entire event.

But, alright, let's get the ground rules set first - Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess is an absolutely lovely rip as is in isolation. Jiko Music is no stranger to the channel nor to the blog, having worked on several hidden-gem favorites of mine such as Trail on Powdery Snow Halation and YACKER TOILET - they very clearly know their way around a rip, and have a stellar track record over their seven years of activity. Super Mario 64's Staff Roll theme is a lovely piece of music already, one I covered a fair bit already with Staff Roll (SM64) Fusion, and Jiko Music absolutely leverages that quality to full effect here - its nostalgic percussion, melody, and instruments that sound so indescribably "Nintendo 64" push this arrangement to some truly excellent emotional heights. The original song's vocals are no longer here, akin to rips like Blessing the Dire, Dire Rains - yet through changing the lead melody's instrument from section to section, from verse to chorus, Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess is able to elegantly replicate how the original song's vocals would change per how many of its six vocalists were singing at any one time. It's a great rip!! ...but wait, what exactly IS the original song its arranging?

Alright, here we go - Fukashigi No Carte is the ending theme to the anime series "Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai", a story about many things, yet primarily about a mysterious girl suddenly made invisible to the world around her, dressed in the titular "bunny girl" costume. The immediate surface-level box to tick is, of course, that it's the ending theme to an anime, a credits roll to match the dramatic storyline of the event - but you may also start connecting some other dots, too, hm? Mai Sakurajima, the titular bunny girl, isn't merely made invisible to the world - she is FORGOTTEN by the public consciousness, her existence at all erased from all's mind, save for the series' protagonist who works to get the rest of the world to acknowledge her existence. Sakurajima's curse in the series is, effectively, that of a forgotten Figment - the fate that befell Mario in this very event, with us as the audience taking the role of the story's protagonist, together helping Mario win the fight against his fate by collectively remembering him.

That's a great reference all on its own, but there's another part left to discuss - the coolest part, I'd argue! Unlike comparable events such as Season 7's with ...of 2023, the Season 5 April Fools event spanned a total of five days - from the day Mario's execution was scheduled on the 31st, to April 1st itself when the event of his disappearance kicked into gear, a day-long break of April 2nd leaving his fate uncertain, the final push to resurrection on April 3rd, and the credits rolling on April 4th - which, during 2021 in particular, just so happened to be Easter. And do you notice anything in particular about this timeline of events? Executed on the 31st of March, brought back from the brink on April 3rd: Mario, just like Jesus Christ himself, AROSE ON THE THIRD DAY. Almost through sheer luck, the holiday celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ fell *right* next to Mario's great story of returning from public execution - allowing the whole event to come to a close on the most perfect day imaginable. And aside from Jesus himself, what is THE thing that defines Easter as a holiday?

That's right - The Easter Bunny. Bunnies. Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai.

The way every single puzzle piece clicked into place for Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess to work is genuinely incredible and some of the coolest shit I've ever seen the channel pull off. Not only is the rip itself a beautiful listen, it nails the landing on every single imaginable front: Subverting the expectations of the entire event's premise by its return to the status quo of rips, connecting the very lore that the SiIvaGunner channel is built on to an anime series with a rather iconic and recognizable ending theme - and connecting the event's storyline to the very foundation of the Easter holiday, and one of the Bible's most well-known events. On the very last video of the event's runtime, Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess made SUPER FUCKING MARIO into a Jesus allegory within the SiIvaGunner channel - and if that's the case, does that make Grand Dad the holy spirit? Is SiIvaGunner ITSELF a loose allegory for Christianity?!

...Mamma Mia, this post got long. But I hope you've been able to understand why I have so many words to say on it - so many thoughts finally able to spill over in the three years I've spent ruminating on this incredible event. Mario's return itself after Bowser's Finale was already pitch-perfect, featuring a sudden reappearance of The Reboot from Season 1 (don't get me started, I'll be here all day) - but ending it all off with something so seemingly plain, yet hiding so many layers of beauty and connective tissue, as Mario Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Princess...it, to this day, blows me away how perfectly the pieces clicked into place.

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jell-o101 · 1 year

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Thank you so much for sharing you’re beautiful art with us and I know that you’ve blown up quite a bit recently, so I just wanted to let you know a few things. You do not need to apologise for your schedule, make art however suits you. You do not need to apologise for the amount you produce, anything you give is more than we have asked. Anything and everything you share with us is a free gift, one that should be treated with the respect of someone willing to share their free time and skill with us. Sorry if this came off as preachy or cringe, but I just wanted to make sure you have you’re boundaries and don’t get to caught up in the insatiable appetite of the internet.

You know, that's actually a really nice thing to say. And yes, since that first comic, I am a little intimidated that i now have a crowd to please once again (last time this happened was when I was making Hamilton animatics on YouTube and I have still yet to make the Satisfied animatic, which was promised years ago). I do wanna please because I dont wanna be that one person who doesn't "update a chapter for a fan fiction that says "last updated 12 years ago." My hyper fixation is fueling all of this and even though everyone tells me to take my time, I kinda don't wanna. I just wanna draw everyday. You should have seen my spiral notebooks when I was in high school. Throughout the four years, I drew a comic almost everyday during class and i ended up COMPLETELY filling 22 spiral notebooks full of my Irony comics (its a personal show I wanna make, but I don't have enough money to pay for helpers, so I animate, do backgrounds, make the music, and find the sound effects all by myself on my phone and laptop).

What I mean to say is

I'm not used to the attention. But its SO NICE that I don't wanna let it go just yet. Heck, I was REALLY HAPPY when a Mario and Luigi artist I look up to, talked to me during my Super Paper Mario live blogging. Of course I wanted to mention that to them but I didnt want to be weird. They're just another artist like me, dont be weird, dont be weird.

Idk man...I'm also just hoping that this boosts commissions because, I don't get any at all.

I'll just stick to making people happy with what I've got to share.

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

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Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years

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Whumptober No.18

Aramis awoke to the smell of blood and snow.

What in God’s name…?

The panic was almost instant. He lurched to his knees, shivering. His heart jolted in his chest. The world around him - trees, a leaden sky and snowy ground - was rippling in and out of focus. His head hurt. When he brought his hand up, he found his hair and the side of his face sticky. His glove came away red.

Oh, please, no.

Struggling to his feet, pulse racing, he saw movement between the trees.

Marsac? Had he come back to-

Aramis clutched his head and took a deep breath. No. This wasn’t Savoy. Savoy happened years ago. Time did not repeat itself. It didn’t, it-

The shadows seemed to come alive as he looked around him, clueless as to where he was or how he’d got here, but when he squinted at the tree line, he didn’t see anyone. All he heard was his own breath and the crunch of his boots sinking deep into the snow as he staggered across the small clearing. His clothes were frozen stiff on one side, his hat was missing. Looking down, he saw his rapier swinging from his belt, but no musket. Hoofprints had kicked up the snow where he stood, leading away in a trail - a single animal had fled this place.

Had he been on horseback and fallen?

Aramis waited for memories to flood back in, but he drew a complete blank. There was nothing. The last thing he remembered was kneeling down for his evening prayers beside his bunk.

Head wound. He had a head wound.

With shaking fingers, he probed his skull again. His hands were so cold inside the gloves, he could barely feel anything, but he thought there was a lump above his temple, and touching it stung. Dried blood was caking the collar of his shirt and had soaked into his leather doublet. He must have bled quite a lot.

Memory loss. A concussion?

It was at least that, judging by the nausea building in his stomach, the dizziness and his compromised vision. He could see a little better now, but when he moved his head, the blurriness returned. Not much he could do about that now. But he had to do something about the cold. He had to find shelter.

The snap of a twig made him turn around. The shadows between the trees had darkened - it had to be afternoon. Again, Aramis didn’t see anything. It must have been an animal. Another worry to add to his list.

Where was his pistol?

He stumbled back to the spot where he’d woken up, brightly marked with his own blood and the shape of his body pressed into the snow. His spine tingled and his head throbbed as he searched the ground. Behind a tree trunk, badly visible in a bed of rotting leaves, he found what he’d been looking for: he picked his pistol up and brushed the snow off before tucking it back into his belt.

Better.

His hat, however, was nowhere to be found, and he eventually gave up on it. The sky was beginning to darken. Nightfall couldn’t be far away, and the temperature was dropping even further. His headache had been a distraction from the cold, but Aramis was shivering so wildly now that he could barely control his hands anymore. He tucked them under his armpits and decided to move.

The snow was deep, and walking was hard work. Soon, his breath was coming in quick gasps, and his head was throbbing ever more painfully from the exertion. At least moving warmed him up a little. He was still shivering, but not as badly as before. Or, possibly, his hypothermia had moved past the point of freezing. In that case…

Aramis didn’t finish the thought. He ploughed on, wondering where his comrades were. Had he been on a solo mission? A private affair? A memory tickled his brain but refused to surface.

Night fell as suddenly as Aramis had feared. What little light there had been, vanished with barely a warning, and Aramis found himself trudging through a landscape lit obscurely by moonlight on snow. Wind rustled the dry leaves. Shadows sidled between the trees.

That was when the ghosts came.

He’d held them bravely at bay. But exhaustion mixed with the effects of his head injury now, and reality - as hard as he’d clung to it - was receding. The snow glittered. Mist collected in the shadows and reshaped into faces. White faces. Dead faces.

Marcel. Christian. Bruno. Severin.

Aramis shook his head to clear it. It was no use. His heart beat in throat.

Jurek. Davide. Sebastien. Denis.

Milky-eyed and with open mouths, his fallen brothers gathered around him. He stopped. Fear reached deep into his chest and clamped around his heart. In spite of the cold, he broke into a sweat.

Mario. Bernard. Timoté. Martin.

They stood to muster, with a caved-in skull, a shredded shoulder, a gaping stomach wound and a slashed throat.

Aramis tried to chase the images away like the crows he’d once chased away from their dead bodies. He stopped walking and stood swaying in the snow, staring wild-eyed into the darkness.

It’s not real. You’re not real. You’re not-

Something brushed past his cheek. It could have been anything - a gust of wind, a bat, a figment of his imagination. But it sent him over the edge.

Panting, he sank down on his knees. His heart hammered in his ears. He couldn’t breathe. Panicked, he wanted to move, to run. But he couldn’t. He was frozen in place, frozen in the snow, frozen to the ground that was cold and wet and soaking into his knees like blood.

Alain. Fabien. Christophe. Pablo.

Their fingers, white and spidery and dead reached for him, their faces tableaus of rotting horror.

Aramis screamed, but no sound came. He screamed inside, and his head wanted to split, and even if it did, he wasn’t sure he cared. A keening sound made it past his lips as he cradled his head and curled in on himself.

Alone. He was alone, being torn to shreds by the ghosts of Savoy, and no one was going to save him this time. No one was-

“Aramis!”

Instinctively, he fought against the voice and the hands touching him. Eyes closed, he clawed at the creature about to pull him into Hell.

“Aramis, stop it! Look at me!”

With a gasp, Aramis tore his eyes open. And looked into Porthos’ worried face.

He was too real to be a ghost. He hadn’t been at Savoy. He smelled of horse and leather and gun oil. He smelled real.

“Aramis?” Brown eyes, so familiar, so safe, bore into his.

“Porthos?” Aramis could only whisper. But he could also breathe.

“Yeah. I’m here.” His big hands remaining on Aramis, the musketeer shouted over his shoulder: “HE’S HERE! I found him!”

Muffled Hoofbeats on snow. The snapping of twigs. Blue coated riders. They, too, were too real to be ghosts.

When Athos and d’Artagnan reached them and slid off their horses, Aramis found himself cradled in Porthos arms, sobbing with relief.

#whumptober2020 #whumptober #the musketeers #fan fiction #fanfic #panic attacks #aramis

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rookie-ramsey · 4 years

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“Please don’t do this.” (Bryce X MC mini-fic 2)

Description: Second Bryce mini-fic based on this prompt list. This is @fortunatelywaywardsandwich‘s extremely belated fic for the 500 follower giveaway from long, long ago.

“No!”

Revving engines roared as Bryce cried out. In agony, he squeezed his eyes shut. How could this be happening again?

A triumphant snicker made him open his eyes. “I win. Looks like I pick dinner tonight.”

Groaning, he stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at Jenifer. “Let’s change it. Best two out of three?”

“Nope.” Jenifer shook her head as she paused Mario Kart. “The deal was, whoever wins the first round of Mario Kart picks dinner. I pick.”

He groaned again. “Two out of three,” he challenged again.

“Fine.” She resumed their game. “I’ll just kick your ass again, Lahela.”

“Bring it on, Doctor Hot Stuff.” Bryce sat up straighter, focusing on the screen. “Mario’s about to leave Princess Peach in the dust.”

“Famous last words!” As soon as the countdown started, Jenifer pressed the accelerate button, making her character take off. She grinned and propped her feet up on the table. Days off were rare, so she was going to enjoy every waking moment of it.

Bryce chuckled as he passed her. “Ha.”

“Not so fast.” She collected a power-up. “Here it comes!”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I’m doing this.”

Her husband shook his head pleadingly. “Anything but the red shell! Don’t hit me with the red shell!”

“Oops.” Jenifer pressed the button, effectively knocking Bryce out of first place and reclaiming the lead. “And victory is mine!”

Sighing, Bryce gave up. “You win. Dirty, beautiful little cheater.”

“Sore loser.” Pausing the game, Jenifer set the controller aside and kissed Bryce’s cheek. “Don’t make bets you can’t win. We’re getting Japanese tonight.”

Bryce huffed and drew her in for a kiss. “You’re lucky I’m completely and utterly whipped for you, or I’d pout about losing for a really long time.”

“I don’t doubt it one bit.” Jenifer rummaged through the takeout menus on the coffee table until she found one for her favorite Japanese restaurant. As she perused the menu, an unhappy cry came through the baby monitor. “You’re on poop duty.”

“Since when poop duty part of the bet?” Still, Bryce got off the couch to check the twins’ room. A few minutes later, he returned with Jesse and Alana settled on each hip. He set the almost two-year-olds down and watched as they toddled to their toys in the corner of the living room. “Alana escaped her crib and was trying to get Luke free. I think they may be ready for beds soon.”

Jenifer sighed. “Nope. They’re not allowed to get older.” She leaned over and freed the TV remote from the twins’ grasp before they could start a duel with it. She helped them climb onto the couch, settling them between herself and Bryce. She finished ordering their dinner and set her phone out of the mischievous toddlers’ reach. “Our dinner, courtesy of my Mario Kart victory, will be here in 20 minutes.”

“Too soon. I’m still scarred from my horrific loss.” Bryce put an arm around her and kissed her head. “New bet. We play another round.”

“Winner picks dessert?”

“You’re on.”

Tags: @fortunatelywaywardsandwich

My perma-tags are for Ethan romancers. If you want to be tagged in Bryce fics, please comment or reblog and let me know.

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart

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altalksaboutstuff · 4 years

Text

Shantae: 1/2 Genie Hero

From the 16th of this month, March 2020, to the 15th of next month, April 2020, Games with Gold has the excellent platformer – Shantae: ½ Genie Hero. As long as you have an active Xbox Live or Xbox Gamepass Ultimate subscription

It's “FREE” to download during that period but even after April 15th, you can keep playing it, it won't leave your library and if you let your subscription expire it will still remain, you just can't play it.

I have had Gamepass for about a year now, I wanted to kind of document my journey and time with games on Gamepass and one of the first that I played when I got the service last year was Shantae: ½ Genie Hero. Unfortunately, this game is no longer available on the service and I thought back in September of 2019 that I had lost my chance to talk about it in a relevant sense, but lo and behold its back now – kind of, in a zombie-esque way.

The game expiring from Gamepass was actually the launching point for me to a Switch. It was my birthday in September and Shantae was just about to be removed from the service, great present Microsoft. I was kind of depressed that in this moment in my life that I had spent about a quarter of a year playing the game that was just going to up and leave. Now I could have bought it and at a discount but if I did that I would be getting just the base game that I was practically done with. I also had all this extra money from my birthday burning a hole in my pocket and instead doing something smart like putting towards my mortgage – I ended up buying a Switch to cheer me up. And what does the Switch have but the physical version of Shantae: ½ Genie Hero that includes all the DLC.

THAT – and the fact that one of my favorite games of all time was just remade – Link's Awakening.

So I got those two games to cope with the fact that I wouldn't be able to play Shantae on Gamepass anymore in a few days ...but I had also gotten my wife a Switch Lite for our anniversary so I kind of wanted a reason to give it to them early and we had a Switcheversay on September 28th.

NERD!

On a side note of this tangent – I feel like I'm always a little behind with Nintendo, with my earliest exposure to Nintendo being no different. Way back in the dark ages of the early 1990s I was a Genesis Lad. After school I was in a program where I first got to play a Nintendo game, there were NES consoles, games and Ataris as well. While kids at school were telling me, “YA GOTTA PLAY Donkey Kong Country 2 and Mega Man X!” The cutting edge stuff of the time, I would root around and find other games like Donkey Kong Jr. and Mega Man 2 on NES. Now don't get me wrong, those were great games I loved then and still love now but I was behind the times. I just didn't have a Super Nintendo, like most of my peers that I went to school with. I just had the Sega. So when most were playing Super Mario World, Chrono Trigger and A Link to Past – I was playing Sonic... Sonic (Sonic 2)... and Sonic... (Sonic 3 but not & knuckles)

BUT Sonic is great!

When my friends had a Gameboy Advance, I still had a Gameboy Color. When the DS was the hot handheld, I got a Gameboy Advance, I got a 3DS around the time Fire Emblem Fates came out when it seemed like everyone was clamoring for a new portable technology and I got a Wii U when it was all but dead. As previous stated, I only got a Switch last September. Heck, I haven't even played the new Mary-o yet

Pushing forwarding in the way back machine to the time when I was a still a young teen, at the age of 14, I remember a Gameboy Color game came out that I really wanted to get – Shantae. I don't even know why I really wanted it other than it was a new Gameboy Color game when new Gameboy Color games weren't coming out. Like, I remember the Gameboy Advance came out about a year ago but I didn't need one according to my parents-

Me: Mom, can I get a Gameboy Advanced? Mom: You have Gameboy Advance at Home ::At home::

So the impact of a new Gameboy Color game coming out - blew … me … away.

Of course - I didn't get that game either.

Now don't get me wrong, I still got games as a kid on birthdays and Christmas but I feel like the games I didn't get are the ones I look back at and think – If only...

(^I never had a Neo Geo but I wanted this game)

Love you Mom and Dad

Back to Shantae though

Tangents aside – why do I think I like this game?

Why is it when I played Half Genie Hero in June of 2019 did I really got hooked on it well until the end of summer? I play, play, played it – all the modes, collect the endings, the tedious achievements like Queen of the Seven Cheese where you have to beat Risky Boots by just chomping at her as a mouse doing 1 damage at at a time.... ugh! For achievements I even … gasp (teeth noise) … speed ran it. And successfully, not on my first attempt though! Or … at least successfully enough to get the endings and achievements. I've never speed ran a game before, at least on purpose. I drew bad fan art!

(^Unlike everything else on this post, I actually drew that [sorry])

For the first time in my life I even looked into Fan Fiction.

Which, on a side note, I don't recommend you look at most of the fan fiction that I’ve seen if you are at work.

The game really got its hooks into me and I'm not exactly sure why but I think I might know.

Well, it feels like a SEGA Genesis game – long story short.

Short story long - I think the best way to classify what kind of game this is, is Metroidvania. You have a mini map and you unlock powers that later allow you to explore the rest of the levels you had previous been to and there are collectibles and upgrades you can buy in game. As you play you can upgrade how Shantae attacks by purchasing upgrades for her hair whip attack or armor but the big mechanic is the transformations – you can turn into animals with varied attacks and abilities as well as some other inanimate objects and living things like this tree

- to help you better get across the stages and discover the secrets of Sequin Land.

I've also read its kind of Mega Man– ish which I had never really thought about before but yeah, because I do love some Mega Man. It has a lot of obstacles/the levels are kinds of obstacle courses like the early NES Mega Man games and there are two areas particularly in my mind – The factory in Mermaid Falls and the Hypno Baron's Castle part of the … Hypno Baron's Castle stage. Well most of it is actually like an obstacle course now that I think about it

The score is by Jake Kauffman and man, AND if I ever make a game I want that guy doing my music. I mentioned the factory part of Mermaid Falls before – the best track in the game and maybe even in any game I've ever heard is Counterfeit Mermaids, its such an earworm,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkXd26E_Ynw

I feel like this song and Neo Town Burning are the two best games

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yParHIzy1nA

You are going to be in the camp that one is better than the other (though Counterfeit Mermaids is clearly the superior track, ahem)

Its a great soundtrack, I find myself tuning into it during my commute to work and sometime even turning off my podcast or audio books to listen to this soundtrack (yes Even Neo Town Burning too). The game's lead voice actress according IMDB is Cristina Valenzuela (sometimes credited as Cristina Vee) who sings the games title theme that also appears in the first level, Scuttle Town the first time you play the level and also when you first boot up the game its there too. POW! Give it a listen – sample plays and fades. Its great. This soundtrack is really memorable and still in my rotation almost a year after I played it for the first time.

The characters themselves too are varied in personality and the styles are now toted as being“in high definition”.

Shantae is my least favorite but I think that works well in the sense of self insert. And that's not to say Shantae doesn't have a personality, she is kind of bubbly and she cares a lot about her ties such as to her family - such her uncle Mimic and her late mother - and to her friends. The three main friends that back Shantae during her journey (that also get their own adventure in the DLC)

Sky - a somewhat more responsible friend of your that is out to give you some counsel and a ride to each stage on her cool bird

Bolo – who offers a bit of comic relief

Rotty Tops the zombie that is a true friend that shows up to support you and cheer you on, in one time literally too.

By the way there is also Risky Boots (the best character, IMO) who is the larger than life antagonist to akin to a comic book villain.

But even with the “HD” graphics, and incredible score everything about just feels like … a Sega game. I can't really put it to words to do it justice, like, it has the essence of games I grew up with. I know a lot of people already had that nostalgia rush with Freedom Planet or Sonic Mania but I only just got Freedom Planet on Switch

Which is great so far, by the way

and Sonic Mania is on my to do pile

so for me – Shantae was it.

I felt that joy like I was 5 years old playing Sonic 2 for the first time. I took me something embarrassing like 8 hours to beat the first time. But after I beat it, I immediately wanted to play it again. I almost NEVER want to replay a game after I beat it – Best case is I take a break and play it again in a year. While it took me a laughable amount of hours to beat the game the first time but by the time I was really invested and on the 3rd or 4th time replaying it, I was completing it in under 2 hours. I was looking up speed running strats and Youtube videos of people speed running the game to compare and contrast how I played the game. I never, ever thought that I would speed run a game. Super Metroid still takes me an embarrassing number of hours to play and I've beat that almost as many times as Shantae now.

Having played both the Xbox One and Switch versions they look pretty similar and seem to play about the same. I noticed that the game seems to run a bit better on the Xbox One and the load times aren't as long

So I really recommend you get this game. I'm super jealous if you've never played it, you get to experience it for the first time! If you don't have an Xbox One but have a Switch you can get the physical version for pretty cheap, used I got this copy for about $20 and it has all the game content. And with the DLC you can finally play as Risky Boots!

It goes without saying that the game I am most excited for this year, 2020 is going to be Shantae and the Seven Sirens.

If you don't have an Xbox or a Switch, the game is also on PC too. Steam has sales, last time the Ultimate Edition was on sale it was only about $21 (show pic) and with a plug and play controls great.

And just as I was checking before posting this, it is on sale for $20.99 until March 30th, 2020

Its also on PS4, I guess if you don’t have any other options

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meepdrawartgood · 4 years

Note

Oh PLEASE tell me about your Dimentio past headcanon.

clasps my little gremlin hands together

ALRIGHT! SO! lets start with that first picture

this would be what he looked like for most of his life if i could draw smoke properly. he was created almost 3 to 4 trillion years ago through means not even he remembers as an immortal trickster spirit sort of thing, whose sole purpose was to just bring people misery through pranks and japes and such. he was Very Smol and didnt have a lot of powers or complex emotions(on purpose, so we wouldnt turn on his creator). heres a lil babby dimentio that i drew today that looks a lot more like smoke than the first draw

this lil guy acted sort of like a fairy, playing mean jokes and just being a tiny jerk for about 3 to 4 trillion years until about 4,000 years before the events of super paper mario

then he found someone that, no matter what mean things he did to them, treated him nicely and welcomed him as a friend. he started feeling emotions he wasnt made to feel, like love, guilt, admiration, attachment, etc, and of course he was scared as shit because he had no idea what was happening to him, so he stayed with the person as they grew old.

when they finally died, he was...upset. all these emotions he wasnt supposed to feel came boiling up at once, his powers went haywire, and he just...exploded. kaboom from the inside out. since he was immortal of course it didnt kill him, but it left him horribly weak and injured.

soon enough a certain Ancient magician found him and took him in, nursing him back to health and giving him a stable, more solid form, and then took dimmy under his wing as his apprentice.

yes the similarity to count bleck is intentional, since the tribe of darkness was originally part of the tribe of ancients, and dimentio got his stable form from the Ancients

for 1,000 years he was trained as one of the magician's apprentices, and learned to hone his current powers as well as temporarily give himself new ones. he was accepted into Ancient society and most of the time wore his hood up to look more like them

then the magician began studying the dark prognosticus and began his work on the pixls. dimentio himself helped create the first pixl, the Pixl Queen, but when he saw how hurt she was by this and learned that the magician had used his own sickly daughter to create her, he wasnt happy. but he never expressed this, and pretended to stay on the side of the Ancients when the war began.

the Ancients needed a way to fight the pixls, and the magician finally came to dimentio...with a mask in his hands.

the mask was a last ditch weapon the magician had made many years prior in case of a dire emergency. it provided the wearer with extraordinary power, but permanently fused to them. dimentio agreed and put the mask on, and it fused to him, becoming the mask he wears in the game (have i mentioned that my dimentios mask is his actual face and also his weak point i dont think i did).

he was sent out into battle as an undefeatable, brainwashing resistant tank to destroy the pixls' forces. but, with a pixl in his hands, so vulnerable and easy for him to kill right then and there, he remembered what the magician had done, and how hurt the pixls were. and let it go.

and turned on the people who had cared for him.

he wiped out the squadron of Ancient soldiers he had been protecting and fled to the pixl queen's castle. the pixl queen could easily see his true intentions of not hurting pixls with her mind reading, and took him in as her most trusted soldier. he was defeated when the hero and 12 original pixls came to kill the queen, and after waking up to find out she was dead, he fled, and it was only a few hundred years of wandering before he encountered a freshly turned count bleck

and the events of the game were set in motion.

#HOO BOY this was a long one #long post #meep writes #dimentio #super paper mario #he feels bad about betraying the ancients who accepted him as one of their own but he doesnt regret doing it #spm

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classicdaisycalico · 5 years

Note

"We'll figure this out" for luigi/Daisy

Angst/fluff Prompt List

Okay so some brief Italian lessons before we begin:

Castello di Flora = translates to “Flora’s Castle” (lit. “Castle of Flora”)Un colpo di fulmine = colloquialism for “love at first sight” (lit. “a lightning bolt”)

Luigi and Daisy, “We’ll Figure This Out”

***

Between fleeing the country in the aftermath of Tatanga’s invasion and staying in the Mushroom Kingdom during her citizens’ recovery efforts, Princess Daisy was initially very homesick. She missed the scorching western desert heat of Birabuto, the peaceful southern beaches of Muda, the rolling hills and rocky cliffs of Easton, and the blistering northern mountain winds of Chai. She missed her parents, and she missed their home, which ended up being destroyed during the attacks.

Now, after a fair amount of time, she had been arranged to meet them at their new residence, the historic Castello di Flora. As its name implied, the castle was once the residence of Daisy’s distant ancestor from several centuries ago, a queen named Flora who reigned over a newly unified Easton.

For Daisy, returning to Sarasaland should have been exciting. Now, there was a new issue: she hadn’t counted on how much it would hurt leaving the Mushroom Kingdom.

She hadn’t been back in years, and wanted to explore every inch of how much Toad Town and its surrounding neighborhoods had changed since her last visit. It had been Peach’s idea first, and Mario was more than happy to bring her there, the latter of whom she ended up striking a very good friendship with. Peach, in the meantime, was ecstatic to host her sister-in-arms again, and Daisy was just as thrilled to stay with her during that time.

Then, of course, there was Luigi, a completely unexpected surprise. She hadn’t arrived to the Mushroom Kingdom looking for love, but a chance encounter with the young plumber outside of Peach’s castle was all it took. That encounter early in the afternoon turned into an unofficial first date, followed up by an official second the day after. Following that came a bouquet of flowers at her doorstep and a dance in the rain that subsequently lead to their first kiss. They were exclusive ever since.

It was now the evening before Daisy was scheduled to leave. The two of them were sitting at the top of a hill providing a beautiful view of the Mushroom City skyline, a callback to the end of their aforementioned first date. That evening, they stayed out to watch the sun set and for the first of the stars to appear before returning home. Sitting next to him, hand in hand, gave her plenty of time for reflection as the hours ticked away.

Truth be told, the princess was not one to dwell on the notion of love at first sight, she hadn’t expected that sort of thing to happen to her. In fact, she was almost repulsed by the idea, given her history with Tatanga and several other self-centered sons of prominent government officials vying for her affections in the past. Now that she had experienced it for herself, however, the thought nearly frightened her.

Suddenly she understood why love at first sight was so rare to come by: whenever it happened, everything surrounding love was far more intense than normal. Sparks didn’t fly, but fireworks did. First dates, which were usually planned at least a day in advance, were now completely rushed and on-the-fly, often operating on a wing and a prayer. And forget about pre-kiss tension; it didn’t exist in the event of, as Luigi described it in his native Italian, a lightning bolt.

Un colpo di fulmine, it was called. At least that saying was a little bit more reassuring. It meant that love could be found from looking at somebody either one time or one thousand times. Conversely, “love at first sight” was just that: the first sight, and there was so much pressure for everything else after that to be just as perfect.

But that was the problem. Nothing was ever truly perfect.

She sighed sadly, earning the attention of the green-clad young man next to her. “Is something wrong?”

How could she answer with so much running through her mind all at once? The princess instead looked out into the horizon. “...There’s just so much to unpack,” she said, hesitantly.

A corner of his mouth ticked upward in a faint smile. “Unpack? I thought that was for AFTER you get home, not before.”

The princess couldn’t help but giggle. Leave it to Luigi to make her laugh, no matter how corny the joke. Still, it wasn’t enough to diffuse her sour mood, and the plumber was quick to catch on. “I’m serious. What is it?”

Again, she let out a melancholy sigh, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer. “It’s the fact that I’m literally leaving tomorrow morning,” she answered. “I never had any real friends in Sarasaland. Coming here and being with Peach and everybody else made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Now that I’m going back home, it’s gonna feel like everything I’ve ever built up in the Mushroom Kingdom will disappear in the blink of an eye.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to forget this.” She gestured outward with her free hand. “The memories, the friendships...everything. I guess I’m just afraid everybody else will, eventually.”

It really hurt Luigi to see the princess like this. Still, seeing this normally cheerful and optimistic lady in such a somber mood brought to mind similar fears of his own, fears of being left alone or forgotten, left in the dust.

Thankfully, Mario always gave him some good advice to curb these doubts. “You’ve known Peach for...how long?”

“Since before I could even remember. The both of us were probably still teething when we first met.”

“Well, she wouldn’t forget you, would she? Not after the two of you have been such good friends your whole lives.”

“I know Peach would remember. But what about Mario?”

“He’ll remember Sarasaland for days to come,” the plumber replied. “I hear him say every day that he wants to go back again...when there’s been enough recovery, obviously.”

“Well...” she began, “it would definitely explain all the questions he had about the provinces. And their history. And their cultures. And their people. And their creatures...”

“The list goes on. There’s no way he’ll forget. Not for a long time.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed in thought. “And then, of course...there’s one more person.”

“Oh?”

“Someone special...” Daisy mused. “He’s really quiet before you get to know him. And shy. PAINFULLY shy. But underneath it all is a guy who’s as kind, honest, and sweet as anyone could ever be.”

She laced his fingers through his. “He’s not afraid to be sensitive or emotional. And in my opinion, that’s the bravest thing any guy can do.”

The princess saw Luigi nervously scratching the back of his head, knowing full well he was catching on to what she was saying. “He’s also extremely handsome, especially in green.”

And there it was, a twinge of red in his cheeks. “Stop that,” he laughed, trying not to stutter over his words. “I’ve heard enough.”

“But YOU won’t forget, will you?”

He sat there for a moment, looking at her, eventually letting his hand brush away a stubborn strand of hair threatening to obscure his view of her bright green eyes. “Why would I ever want to?”

He let his fingers lightly trace over the outline of her face before letting his hand rest over her cheek. “You’re my lightning bolt.”

Her own hand reached up and held on to his. In moments like these, rather than say anything back, she let the words linger, so she could take in their meaning. In the time she had known Luigi, she knew he was not much of a talker, but when he was, he never minced his words. Everything he said carried depth, and lots of it. This was no exception.

She closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was nothing like their first kiss on that rainy evening; there was no desperation, no awkwardness, no bottled-up feelings to resolve. It was simply a small show of affection she knew he’d appreciate.

The way he slowly found the courage to kiss her back let her know she was right.

After letting it linger for a few seconds, they pulled back, his hand still cupping her face gently. “Will you write, at least?”

“I don’t know how often...”

She wrapped an arm around him and drew him in for a hug, her head now resting snugly against his chest. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

#ask me things #melissa writes #waywardcollectionchai #Luigi #Princess Daisy #my fave #Luigi and Daisy #my mario series otp #OOF sorry this took so long #grad school is already beginning to pick up sorryyyyyyyyyyyy #this is also real long btw so if you make it to the end then you're heckin amazing

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wic-waseda · 5 years

Text

The doors on the Right Side Will Open

Sometime last week, I took a train, bound for some arbitrary place within the 23 wards. I don’t remember my intended destination - perhaps I was looking for a café where I could study and sip a bittersweet iced cocoa. Maybe I was heading to a trendy neighborhood where, amidst the vintage clothing stores, antique shops, and family-owned soba restaurants, hid a small purveyor of exquisitely crafted Japanese denim. Or it’s possible that I was on my way to a Toho Cinema to catch Quentin Tarantino’s latest flick, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (I’m at least certain that I did this last week, and the film was great). Needless to say, this train ride was generally forgettable. I take a lot of trains these days. But last week, while on one of the trains, I saw something that made me think.

I was tired, as I usually am when riding the train. The guy sitting across from me must have been tired, too - he was fast asleep. This wasn’t especially noteworthy, as it’s normal to see salarymen, students, and senior citizens (or me) sleeping on the train. After all, those dozing commuters, swaying back and forth to the bustling rhythm, are offered a brief reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the world’s largest city. But something about the way this particular sleeping man was positioned drew my attention. He was scrunched into the tiny end-seat, head tilted back, with his face positioned towards the roof and his mouth agape. His orientation was awkward and, in a word, “silly.” I thought, That can’t possibly be comfortable! I turned my attention back to my phone.

The train continued on. After several stops, I glanced back at the man. His position remained unchanged. We passed through the stations. The train wheels rolled to a halt, followed by a brief shuffling of the disembarking and loading passengers, and the cars creakily came to life again after the closing of the doors. I would check the status of the man. I registered no movement. It didn’t even look like he was breathing. At some point, I had another thought. Is he okay?... Almost as soon as the thought crossed my mind, the train screeched to a stop, and the man deftly popped up from his seat and out the door, having arrived at his station. I was faintly surprised by the suddenness of his movements, but otherwise unperturbed. I went back to scrolling through my phone.

For the rest of that day, I didn’t spare much thought to the incident with the sleeping man on the train. After all, it wasn’t particularly unusual or remarkable. However, I did find myself thinking things like, When was the last time I slept through my stop on the train? This led me to think about how the nature of my Tokyo train rides has changed in the past year.

Whereas I now expend little thought on where I’m going, relying on my past experiences (and Google Maps), when I first came to Japan, I was a total novice. Every time I left home, I was felt discombobulated and rushed as I tried to navigate the city. I missed transfers. I got on the Limited Express instead of Local. And, I would fall asleep and miss my stop on the last train, stranded to either walk for an hour or shell out for a taxi to get home.

I also noticed a change in the feelings I felt when making my way around the city. I used to be so excited when I was on the train. While the regulars and locals were either relaxing or distracting themselves with their phones, I was attentive to anything and everything. I wanted to take it all in. The sights. The sounds. The people. I wanted to experience as much as I possibly could in my new Tokyo life.

The mishaps, mistakes, and the feelings of excitement and anticipation that I felt on the train lasted for a few months. But as I grew accustomed to life here, I found myself paying less and less attention to what was going on around me. Even with less focus, I stopped making mistakes. I breezed through train station crowds. I stopped worrying about missing stations, and I stopped looking around so eagerly on the train.

I departed for Japan in September 2018. I had been anxiously and excitedly anticipating that day ever since I first committed to the trip. It had been in the works for quite a while; I first thought about coming to Japan a few years ago, and the process of finding a program, applying, and preparing took up significant portions of the previous year. But, come September, it was time for me to get on a plane to head to the other side of the world. As I said goodbye to my parents (and, naturally, Mickey Mouse) in the Orlando airport, my mind was flooded with thoughts and feelings. Generally, I was over the moon – I’d wanted this for so long. But truth be told, I had my doubts. Was I really ready to leave home for over half a year? Would I be okay, having neither friends nor acquaintances, in a new country where I had a such limited understanding of the language and culture?

Doubts or not, as I sat on the plane, traversing the Pacific, I told myself, plainly, Too late to back out now! Some 12 hours later, I landed; I popped a new sim card into my phone, and set off on my journey. It was a hot, muggy, and rainy summer day (I remember thinking distinctly, I thought I had escaped Florida weather…) as the bus carried me away from Narita and towards Tokyo. I’ll never forget the moment when I first saw the city - an eclectic and seemingly never-ending array of buildings for as far as the eye can see. I looked for some of the landmarks. One by one, they popped into view. Skytree. Tokyo Tower. The Metropolitan Governement building. What were the chances that the bus would take me right through the heart of the city? I was incredibly jet lagged, but I was too excited to look away. I wanted to absorb every moment. I didn’t want to miss a single thing. It was my first time in the city.

I was finally in Japan (the cicadas made sure to remind me daily). But how did I end up here? The reasons are numerous and varied. I’ve been interested in Japan, at least tangentially, for as long as I can remember. I was born into a golden generation, blessed with the first generations of Pokémon and various iterations of classic Japanese video games like Sonic the Hedgehog and Mario. In our household photo albums, there are of pictures of me playing, often with a Gameboy or Digimon Digi-vice in hand. I would play Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Monsters with friends, even over the phone. If it sounds very cliché, that’s because it is – but at the time, I had no idea that these products originated in Japan. Over time, I gradually became more aware of Japan and its impact on my childhood.

But these factors, in and of themselves, did not solely inspire me to come to Japan. There was a point during college where I developed a passion for traveling and learning about other cultures. In 2015, I traveled to London to study. It was the single most influential experience of my life to that point, and I made it a goal to travel as much as possible. Eventually, I decided that I would like to go to an entirely new place, because I felt that placing myself in a new situation, getting out of my comfort zone, would help me to grow as an individual. I also love novel experiences, craving the feeling of finding myself in unusual, unexpected situations. I’m also interested in history and culture. Though the subject matter was limited, some of my favorite pieces of history that I studied in school dealt with Japan. I started looking into Japanese culture and examining the interesting relationship between Japan and the United States. As I began studying International Relations, it occurred to me that the U.S. relationship with Asia, and particularly Japan, was an important factor in world affairs, and would likely continue to influence world politics, economics, and society for years to come. This coupled with the immense influence that Japanese media had had over the childhoods of my peers and me. However, despite these facts, there was so little focus afforded to the study of Japan in the American education system. How could such an important nation and ally be neglected to this extent in the American curriculum? I decided it would be extremely valuable to travel to Japan, to learn firsthand about Japanese culture and society.

I’ve now been in Japan for more than a year. I’ve had an untold amount of unbelievable experiences here - anyone who comes here will be assuredly gifted with those. I’ve eaten expertly crafted meals from world-renowned chefs, trying new foods that I never could have expected, and I’ve also stuffed myself on conbini bento and onigiri. I’ve made tons of friends from all over the world, partying in clubs and izakaya - other times found myself in bed, feeling incredibly alone. I’ve gone to the major tourist sites, climbed Mt. Fuji, drank in Osaka, and taken a dip in a Hakone onsen during the chilly winter. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to do nothing more than go for a walk in my neighborhood park. Having been here for over a year, I’ve experienced a lot of highs and lows in Japan. In either case, the experiences I’ve had are precious to me, and I’ll surely never forget them.

But what’s truly important to me is my life here, in general. Japan has offered so much to me: the aforementioned experiences, lifelong friends, new challenges and opportunities, and a fresh state of mind. Before coming to Japan, I was incredibly bored – that boredom manifested itself in the form of an indelible apathy. But living in Japan has given me a new perspective, forcing me to reckon with my own preconceptions about the world and about who I am as a person. I like to think that, all things considered, it has also allowed me to grow as an individual as well. So even as my life here becomes routine, I never stop appreciating what Japan has given me – a fresh start.

“I guess the trains have lost their magic for me.” That’s the realization I came to after seeing the guy sleeping on the train. But I also realized something else: that Japan - the place, the country, and my current home – has not. I don’t expect it to, not for the forseeable future. That’s why I decided to stay here after I finished my program at Waseda. And it’s why I want to stay here even longer.

That day on the train, I spent a lot of time thinking. Honestly, I’m surprised such a minute occurrence caused me to reflect so much. I’m still searching for my purpose here, and I’m excited about the future. It was certainly gratifying to think about the time I’ve spent in Japan and to ponder the nature of my life here. But it was also incredibly exhausting. As if by fate, on the train ride home, I dozed off. When I woke up, I realized that I had missed my stop. I guess I’ll need some more practice riding the trains. And I’m definitely okay with that.

Author: Chas Funderburk

My name is Chas Funderburk and I’m a 25-year-old American. I’m from a small town in the state of Georgia, in the rural southeastern United States. I came to Tokyo in the summer of 2018 to complete my master’s degree on exchange at Waseda University and the Graduate School of Political Science and Economics (GSPS). I finished my coursework in early 2019, graduating from Florida State University with a Master of Science in International Affairs. Upon completing my degree, I enrolled in Toyo Language School in eastern Tokyo to continue studying the Japanese language.

#English

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tjovalboy · 5 years

Note

Marty and TJ rap battle

The FIghty FIght

Words: 2888 and I am so done

AO3 (please let me know what I need to improve)

Cyrus thumbed through the note document on TJ’s phone– his early preview given more because he begged for one than to give any critical input. “This is good, this is good,” he remarked. “I think you’re going to be fire out there. Absolute domination.”

“Okay, buddy. Easy there,” TJ chuckled, but he knew it was true.

TJ shoved his smartphone, in which he poured hours the past week perfecting his rhymed insults, into his back pocket. In an organized rap battle, the guy who doesn’t have his shit memorized is already ten times more lame than the other, no matter how good his lines are.

Cyrus punched his chest weakly, breaking him out of his thought. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face every time I’m gonna finish my baby taters this week, and hand her the check after I’ve finished every last crumb.”

He shook his head at him, then craned his neck over his shoulder to glimpse at their opponents. Marty Thupparty, a track star parallelling his finesse with the hoops, bobbed his head along to something Buffy Driscoll was explaining very firmly. It was probably something useless, anyway. It’s not like either of them had nearly as much experience as he did, which made this pairing an overkill.

The whole thing was Cyrus’s idea, really. He knew TJ rapped, and that Marty rapped, and that Marty was a little afraid of TJ at one point last year, so naturally, he thought a rap battle would be the sickest way to bring them together– a friendship ploy for Marty’s second initiation into the group since his absence from Buffy’s life.

The baby tater bet was to get Buffy involved for even teams. She only agreed to coach Marty if they bet that the losing rapper coach would have to buy baby taters at the Spoon for the winner the whole week afterward.

They were taking it a lot more seriously than he and Marty even were.

“We should get going,” TJ breathed after seeing their opponents start heading away.

The asphalt scorched the flat bottoms of his sneakers as he walked towards the court. It was like the entire world just decided to preheat on itself, he thought, as sweat began prickle his arms and the mass of excited chatter drew closer. He knew he didn’t make the decision to have an outdoor rap battle at three o’clock in the afternoon in June.

At Basketball Court Number Three, a large, but niche, clump of people had come to watch them rap. They had formed a space for both of them in the middle of the circle, in which Marty was already positioned.

“Alright, alright, settle down everyone! They’re both finally here,” announced Jonah Beck as some random little hands shoved TJ from the outskirts to the space across from Marty. There were whoops and shouts coming from directions he couldn’t pinpoint, and some were so close to his ear he didn’t know where to turn.

He eyed Cyrus and Buffy at most inner circle of the crowd and grinned as they playfully nudged each other, keeping fierce looks in their eyes. However, he couldn’t decipher what was going through his opponent’s head. He stood across from him with his hands shoved in his pockets as if he was watching a golf match, his face as flat as a brick as he alternated slight glances with the crowd, Buffy, and TJ.

“Most of you already know, but I’m Jonah Beck. I started walking home from school today, then I saw this crowd and stopped to say ‘hi’ to everyone, and now I guess I’m hosting this rap battle!”

The kids erupted in giggles, but TJ swore he was dead serious.

“On this side…” he stretched an arm out at TJ. “…captain of the Jefferson Basketball team, king of hair gel, and connoisseur of more redemption arcs than I can count– no really, I never learned how to count– my man, ‘True Jank Fruity!’”

TJ stuck his chin up a little higher and smirked. Jonah waited for the giddy chatter and whoops to fade before turning to Marty. “And over here– track star, lover of parties and, I think, country music; he saw me fall on my face once– ‘Eleven Point Yikes’!”

Marty ran his fingers through his dark hair, which was messier than usual. They stood so close that TJ could see his own frowning face in the reflection of his eyes. ”Ready to lose, Kippen?” he sneered.

“You wish,” he shot back.

Smartphones went vertical one after the other, waiting to catch every hard jab and mangled line between the two dogs, their fingers probably already on the ‘post’ button in hopes of garnering the most attention by sharing first.

“We’re doing two rounds, starting with TrueJank,” Jonah announced. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“You say you’re ‘Marty From The Party’ but you’ve never been invited

When I see the pics on Insta, your blurry head looked like I smudged it

You should take advice from pocket lint, maybe then, you’ll get some relevance

I asked who I was battling, they said, “Middle Schooler #100”

It’s 2018 and they really named you “Martin”

Popped you out the womb and remembered their fifty year old accountant

I think I scraped you off the wall last week, now that needed an extra napkin

Four classes with me and you were nameless? Bro, look around. The whole school had that experience.”

The “ohh’s!” loudened after his most powerful lines, preceding a much larger display of fist pumps and hoots (even from the ones he’d bullied) after the verse was over. However, Marty, surprisingly witted for a newbie, hushed the crowd before he could take in the music.

“Let’s get things straight, TrueJank, you sicken me.

You think shitty rhymes make them pity you for an apology?

You’re like the last day of October, all face with no sincerity.

At least the other ex-bullies use their heads, they differ “sorry” from stupidity.

Aw, but, I know you feel bad; got all this baggage weighing on you

You swing at the park because your mind’s got too many issues

But it’s time to skip the angst, skip the coldness and the frown

Your just plain scary, and JMS won’t let you live it down.”

The screams seemed about equal to his.

“So you didn’t make my team. What a surprise.

I know you were out, and you were trying, but you tripped over every painted line!

I’d say go right, like Mario Kart you’d run zig zags like there was squid ink in your eye.

You got Buffy calling witness protection cause she so embarrassed she let you inside.

Two athletes in a fight, Wit to wit without the fouling.

I throw words, you shoot em back and think “I’ll end him with these similes.”

We running lines in the weight room, spitting verbs where we kick grovel.

From a rapper to a rapper, we playing for different leagues

You couldn’t diss me better than you wipe the dirt off your cleats”

It wasn’t until after spat his final lines that he could focus enough to hear his heart pound. There was nothing more he had to show, but the world seemed to slow as Marty returned with his own final verse.

“Your hoodies upon hoodies got style enough for Fashion Week.

The critics say “eclectic” cause it’s “he-don’t-leave-his-basement chic”.

Runway shots of your ‘do be like White Christmas with the gel that flakes.

Your name says it all, the only fashion show you running is the coach ordered jank from the sports teams.

Yeah, you’ve rapped longer but your rhymes ‘aint unique

Jock, bully, kinda dumb, and lives a trope like a bad movie

Put some shades, baggy shorts, fake chains, and you’ll almost be a rapper

I’m a newbie? Why am I hearing your MTV lines a decade after?

You’re unoriginal.

Your first date hears “Perfect” by Ed and shakes at all the horror.

He sees your cliche ass boombox blaring like you’re Dobler.”

It took a few moments for TJ to register that his mouth hung open. His classmates were breaking into hysterics and patting Marty on the back like he’d just single-handedly fought a war for them and emerged victorious. He could vaguely hear Jonah amongst the crowd declare Marty as the winner.

TJ tried to pick Cyrus out of the crowd, but he couldn’t amongst the blaring amount of chaos. Teeth gritted, he decided he would just wait by the gate.

TJ, feeling a little selfless, held his full tray out to Buffy and offered her some french fries.

“No, thanks,” she stopped sipping her milkshake to reply. “I have practice right after this and I’m already stuffed.”

He nodded, and offered the same next to him. “Cyrus?”

His friend shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He set the tray between them and they both dug in for a handful. The calm chatter and occasional sound of the bell atop the entrance door overtook them at The Spoon diner. After a few moments, he noticed Buffy grimacing at him.

“…and Marty?” she pressed impatiently.

Oh, right. He probably wanted to feel included, too. With his lips tightened, he gave the fries a slight push so they slid forward and stopped at the spiky haired boy’s milkshake glass where he’d accept the offer if he wanted. “Take some,” he said simply, and Marty rolled his eyes at him.

Buffy gave Cyrus a look, then turned back to him. “You’re seriously still mad you lost the rap battle?” she bursted, holding back a laugh. “That happened a whole week ago!”

“I’m not mad,” he muttered in reply, focusing very hard on the pedestrian activity outside the window beside them.

“You totally are,” she pressed. ‘You’ve been weird ever since it happened.”

Cyrus sighed dramatically and slumped down with his elbow on the table. “And I really thought my friendship-making plan would work! I guess I can’t fix everyone’s relationship problems.”

Buffy patted his hand lamely. “It’s okay, Cyrus. You’ll get ‘em next time around.”

He and Marty’s tension had been going on since the battle. He was just a little irked that “I’ve-been-rapping-for-a month-Marty” pulled rhymes out of his butt that shanked his bully boy reputation into little pieces. He may have ignored a few of Marty’s texts since it happened, which pushed Marty into ignoring him, and therefore, neither of them hanging out with the Good Hair Crew that week in fear of seeing each other. While their excuses were believable, it was more difficult to get out of plans Buffy and Cyrus made for all four of them after school.

He almost wanted to tell Cyrus that his friendship-plan wasn’t gonna work from the beginning.

“While you were both amazing,” started Cyrus. “Marty, your last line about TJ being so cliche he’d hold a boombox above his head on his first date was hilarious.”

Buffy snorted. “That’s the part people keep sending me videos of. Someone would have to slap me in the face twice if I actually saw you doing that, Kippen.”

TJ didn’t know how to respond and just shook his head playfully. His gaze flickered toward Marty, and while a corner of his mouth tugged up at the look, he broke away quickly and returned to his comfortable frown.

“Listen, TJ,” Marty had his elbows propped on the table and his eyes bordered on desperate. “If you wanna talk, then let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about because I’m not mad.” He surveyed the contents on his table. “I’m gonna go grab some more ketchup,” he excused himself without looking anyone in the eye.

At the ketchup pump, he pushed the lever down with too much force and much of the red blob squirted onto the counter next to his paper container.

There was a snort from someone behind him. “Nice one.”

He almost chuckled, too, but bit it back when he recognized the voice. There’s no way he was staying here alone with him, so he began heading back without a turn.

“Wait, TJ, you can’t just pout and stomp away. You have to tell me what’s really up,” he pleaded sternly.

He glanced at Buffy and Cyrus who were both in some heated debate and didn’t even seem to notice their absence, and before he could process his thoughts, he was face to face with Marty again and had blurted, “The boombox line.”

Marty hesitated, like he wanted to know what he meant, but he couldn’t admit that he didn’t. “Um, what?”

Your first date hears “Perfect” by Ed and shakes at all the horror.

He sees your cliche ass boombox blaring like you’re Dobler.

“The boombox line,” he repeated with a breath. “I thought you said that was your favorite part of our first date– the way I ended it.”

“It was. I always tell you that,” he replied.

“Well, you didn’t have to make fun of it,” he argued. “Yeah, I know we both hated the song and the whole thing was part of an inside joke, but I did it for you to see. Not for the whole school to imagine.”

Marty’s face went red much like the way it did when he held TJ’s hand for the first time at the soccer game, and when he and TJ sprinted down the street filling the sky with their laughs when Buffy and Cyrus almost caught them together, and the Friday they agreed they would go on a date the next day and plan absolutely none of it; thus it finishing with TJ blasting “Perfect” in Marty’s driveway while he cracked up from the second story bedroom window.

They were already calling themselves boyfriends by the time Marty apologized to Buffy and she let him back into their group (which included TJ). They were clueless about the countless dates they had been on since that first.

“Well, sorry, okay,” Marty muttered. “Literally no one suspected it was you and me, though, so you don’t have to be mad. I would never really make fun of you like that.”

TJ’s stomach twisted. He knew he used to scare him before they really talked, but they were countless secret dates past that. “I know. It sounds ridiculous to me now that I’m saying it out loud.”

Marty exaggerated a shrug and put on a dopey grin, showing him that they were okay. “Apology accepted, Kippen. Glad my boyfriend is talking to me again.”

TJ stepped forward couldn’t ignore the smell of greasy foods frying from where they were standing at the back by the kitchen door. He didn’t mind, though, as they were used to meeting in odd locations to talk. “I had no idea you would win, though. I’ve been rapping for so long and you’ve literally been doing it for two seconds!” TJ said through a laugh.

Marty smirked, grabbing his hand and letting it dangle between them. “Maybe I was born with it.”

As his mind ran with ways to banter back, he remembered another one of his problems. “It sucks that Cyrus thinks we’re never gonna be friends,” he commented.

Five weeks was a long time to hide a relationship. In hindsight, they could’ve at least pretended they were friends, but the enemies trope seemed more safe.

Marty rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb. “It does. Even after you rapped about me being as irrelevant as a T.V. show extra and I called you out on your ugly clothes, we still hate each other in their eyes.”

“Their” meaning Cyrus and Buffy. Cyrus was TJ’s closest friend, and Buffy was getting to be Marty’s. After missing Marty all week, he began to wonder how long secret relationships were supposed to last. He caught Marty’s gze flickering over his shoulder at them. “I think we should tell them soon.”

“We should.”

“But how? When?” TJ furrowed his brows, and Marty stared at him like he just suggested that boombox thing from Say Anything was a good idea for a first date.

“Duh, we rap it to them!” he hissed.

Holy shit. His boyfriend’s brain!

“We both wrote awesome verses insulting each other in like a week. It’ll be great!” he continued.

“Four classes and you were nameless? Bro look around. That’s a universal experience.” did have a certain energy to it that would be perfect for a relationship reveal. He was proud when he thought of that while his mother dragged his with her to the bank. He already couldn’t wait or this collab. “I am so in, Eleven Point Yikes.”

“Just let me have some of your fries first, in like, not a passive aggressive way, and then we can start, True Jank Fruity.”

They unclasped their hands to whip their arms around for a painful high five, causing some people to turn their heads. They jogged back to their table, where Buffy and Cyrus already had their necks craned at them, and grabbed the rest of the fries out of TJ’s tray by hand and skipped out the door ignoring their questions. Cyrus probably assumed they made up, but he’d be even happier when they told him in a few days.

TJ would remember to thank Ed Sheeran, or the rap gods, later.

#andi mack #HE LOOKED BACK AT MARTY AT THE BEGINNING DID YA'LL CATCH THAT #i never say yall #tarty #this was supposed to be a plot twist l #i am learning

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Odinson x OFC | Word Count: 6956 Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing, Loki being Loki

“I need to kill something.”

“You do not need to, you simply want to.”

“No, brother. I need to kill something before I return to that house and curse that woman to the farthest reaches of the nine realms! There are places I could stick her, Thor that would give rise to such pain, such terror before she died.” Loki clenched his fists again and tried not to either frost over the yard or burst into a flaming ball of green magic.

Thor’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Loki.”

He looked up into his brother’s earnest blue eyes.

“Is that what Lauren would want?” Thor asked.

Loki growled irately and pulled free of his brother. “You did not see the bruises on the boy. You did not see the ones on his sister. You did not comfort my Ástvinur as she cried, again, because of that woman! She breaks Lauren’s heart with every interaction! I can’t keep watching it, Thor!”

“Is there nothing to be done?” Thor sighed, his face showing the same level of disgust and dejection Loki knew was on his own.

Loki scrubbed a hand over his mouth and turned to watch Lauren chase Benny and Sara around the yard. Her dress was a bright red halter style which left her shoulders bare, ended at mid-thigh, and was covered in white polka dots. She’d put her hair up in a knot at the back of her head, and flat sandals in white protected her feet while her torque gleamed brightly around her throat. Usun jumped and played, chasing the children as well, licking at the bare legs of the kids who were dressed for fun in shorts and t-shirts. It was the most casual he’d ever seen Sara or Benny look, and knew by the scowl on Magnolia’s face their attire had been Hoyt’s doing.

“We spoke at length about it once she was calm again.” Loki crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “She is afraid, my Lauren.”

“Of what?”

“Of losing them altogether. If she accuses her sister of abuse, there are many layers of investigation which will need to be done. People will come and take the children away if it is deemed unsafe for them to be in their mother’s custody. Then there will be a fight, mud will be slung, and Marabeth is very good at making people see what she wishes them to. If Lauren tries and fails, Marabeth can ban her from seeing the children at all. Even with her father’s backing, with my backing, she is not certain they can win this battle. Throw in what is about to happen with Avirett and the Bianci’s… Marabeth could, potentially, claim she was stressed and had herself been abused by Samuel, saying she would never normally hurt her children. That is was the trauma of what has been happening with her husband which had pushed her over the edge. I don’t know.” Loki shook his head. “I just don’t know enough. Lauren has said most people believe it is best if the children stay with their mother and Marabeth will fight hard to keep the image she is presenting.”

“Then what can be done has been. You have protected them with Usun. We are removing the greatest threat, and Lauren’s father has had his eyes opened. You have done your best.”

Loki didn’t bother to mention how he’d threatened Marabeth if she ever touched the children again. It appeared his warning had fallen on deaf ears anyway. “Not everything, but I will rectify that oversite soon.”

Thor frowned at him. “Do not do anything which will upset your Ástvinur.”

“I would never.” Loki threw him a devious smile.

“Time to go,” Stark said, jogging over with the others. “Text came through. Gallo is supposed to head back.”

Loki clapped his hands together and magic flashed. Everyone was kitted out in their standard gear when the light waned except Stark. He looked exactly like Mario Gallo. “Coms.” He held out his hand, and everyone took one, Steve slipping his beneath his helmet. “We will be waiting for you when you arrive,” Loki informed Stark.

“You sure I can’t get shot? Whoa… that’s weird,” Tony muttered when his voice was no longer his own.

“You will sustain no injuries.”

“Really?” he asked, still skeptical.

Loki huffed out a breath and stabbed him in the chest. The blade which had materialized in his hand skidded off Tony’s shirt.

“Jesus!” Tony barked, jumping back.

“Satisfied?” he asked, annoyed at having his skills doubted.

“Yeah, yeah we’re good.” Tony nodded.

“Excellent. I have access to Gallo’s memories. Should you be questioned, I will assist you. He is cocky, annoying, and quick of tongue. In other words… be yourself.”

Steve chuckled. “He got you there.”

“Let’s do this. I’ll see you there.” Tony flipped Steve the bird and jogged off to get in the car hidden beyond the trees.

Loki left the others to their strategizing and return to Lauren, watching them from a few yards away. Worry rippled in her heart and Loki took her gently by the elbows. “Don’t, beloved. We will be fine.”

Lauren set her hands on his chest and began fiddling with the leather straps and metal buckles. “Be careful, please. I’ll be pretty upset if someone gets hurt, but I’d be devastated if it was you.”

He smiled and pulled her closer. “A wife barely a day and already nagging me.”

Her fingers tugged on his armour. “Watch it, buddy. I know where you sleep at night.”

Loki chuckled and kissed her softly. “And threats, too. Will you soon start harping like a fishwife?”

She pulled her arms from his hold and threw them around his neck. “Please,” she whispered against his throat. “Please, be careful.”

“Always, my heart. Always. I promise,” he murmured against her cheek, closing his arms around her. Her pounding heart and slight shaking had him tsking softly. “Everything will be fine, but I can’t leave you if you are in this state, darling.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me and tell me you love me and then go. Do what you have to and come back safe.”

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and rubbed away the single tear which fell from her eye. “You are so worried, love. I have never seen you so concerned before when we had to go away.”

She tangled her fingers in his hair. “I never had so much invested before. You, the kids, my family. I need this done, and I need you back here where I know y’all are safe. So kiss me, Loki, tell me you love me, and then go.”

“You are so brave, Lauren.” He leaned down and kissed her, gentle and tender, making certain his love for her was present in the press of his lips. She sighed into it, body falling into his when he deepened the kiss and sipped at her mouth, drawing forth that sweet, delicious flavour from her lips before finally biting into the bottom one softly as he drew away. “I love you, my darling.” He kissed her cheek. “My heart.” Her forehead. “My soul.” The corner of her mouth. “My wife,” he whispered, placing a final peck on her lips. “I will be back soon, everything will be fine, and we will spend a pleasant day with the children.”

He pulled away, smiled reassuringly at the two children clinging to Usun, sent a warning glance to the hound, and rounded on his heel to rejoin the others. With a flick of his hand, he opened a portal and walked through without looking back, the others following in his wake.

***

Lauren pressed a hand to her stomach and the other to her mouth, desperate to stave off the tears. She startled when an arm wrapped her waist and glanced toward Pepper. “Does it ever get easier?”

Pepper smiled and shook her head. “Never.”

“How do you do it? How do you watch Tony go, knowin’ what could be comin’, and not want to break down?”

“Breaking down makes it harder for them to go. So you smile, and you do what you did. Kiss him goodbye, tell him you love him, and hold it together until they leave. Then, you have a little cry and join me in a glass of wine,” Pepper said with a quiet laugh.

“Little early for drinkin’,” Lauren giggled and wiped her face.

“Mmm, it’s never too early for mimosas.” Pepper gave her a wink and led her toward the table where Hoyt and Magnolia were sitting.

Her mother looked grey, not at all well, and Lauren frowned at her father. “Daddy?”

“She knows. About Cissy, about what almost happened last night, and about what Samuel’s been up to.”

“Mama?” Lauren sat at her side and took her hands.

“I don’t… I don’t know… what to do,” she whispered, clutching Lauren’s fingers.

“Nothin’. There ain’t nothin’ to be done. What happens now… it’s outta our hands.” Lauren shook her head. “Cissy’s doin’ what’s best for her. We need to support her and be proud she took this step herself.”

Magnolia nodded, but she did so slowly as if she was only half listening.

“And the team will take care of the other stuff. We just need to be patient. Everythin’ will turn out alright,” she continued to try and assure her mother.

Magnolia ripped her hands away. “Alright? Nothin’ will ever be alright ever again! Priscilla’s gonna be known as a junky, Marabeth’s husband is a criminal!” Her voice rose and grew shrill. “Our family is in shambles and all of it is your fault!” she hissed, getting to her feet. “None of this started until you began stickin’ your nose in other people’s business. NO! Until he started stickin’ his nose where it didn’t belong! You’re the cause of all this! Bringin’ that… that… heathen into my house and stirrin’ up trouble. I’ll never forgive you for this, Lauren!”

“Me?” Lauren snapped, finally having had enough of her mother’s venom. She lurched to her feet to go toe to toe with Magnolia. “No, mama. You don’t get to blame this on me! I had nothin’ to do with Samuel’s lyin’ or his stealin’. I ain’t forcin’ Marabeth to hate on her children. Cissy is the one who chose to do drugs and drink to escape from her responsibilities and life, and I sure as shit didn’t force you to sleep with George!”

Her mother went white. “You… you… I never… you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I should’a known there was somethin’ happenin’ all those years ago, but I was too naïve, too young to ever even consider such despicable behaviour from the woman who raised me. Who I was so desperate to have love me I cowed down to at every turn, but no more! I’m not some afterthought you can bully and terrorize to your will anymore! I’m a goddamned princess of Asgard and Loki’s wife. I’m not insignificant and it’s time you grew the hell up, mama!”

Magnolia paled even further which Lauren hadn’t thought possible before bursting into tears and rushing for the house.

Hoyt got slowly to his feet. “Lauren… she’s still your mama.”

Lauren lifted her chin. “That doesn’t mean I have to respect her. She lost my respect years ago and has done nothin’ to earn it back. I won’t apologize for finally standin’ up for myself. I won’t!”

“She’s… far more fragile than you realize, Lauren Guillemin,” Hoyt sighed.

“Even if she is, I won’t be part of this toxic relationship with her anymore. I won’t accept blame for somethin’ that had nothin’ to do with me.”

His face hardened, but he nodded once and went after his wife.

Lauren flopped back into her chair, sprawled out with her hand over her eyes, and peaked at Pepper sitting quietly at her side, sipping her coffee like she sat through familial arguments every day. “Welcome to my home. We’re all nuttier than a squirrel’s nest.”

Pepper smirked. “Sweetie, I’m attached to Tony Stark. This?” She circled her fingers toward the house. “Is tame compared to some of the shit him and I’ve dealt with.”

“Least we managed to keep it from the kids,” Lauren sighed and looked toward the children playing with Usun closer to the house.

Her cup clicked softly when Pepper set it down, then she reached forward and linked their fingers together. “I have no right to comment on your family drama, but I do have one thing to say.”

Lauren straightened up and turned to face her. “No, please. I mean, if you gotta sit here and witness it, you may as well speak your peace.”

“I don’t know what the history is here, or only what I have been able to infer, but you weren’t wrong in what you said. Perhaps it was harsh, but sometimes, when we’ve failed to say what we needed to, continuing to bite our tongues until the resentment and anger and disappointment is so strong it won’t be held back any longer, harsh is what happens. You needed to speak and your mother needed to listen. Whether she will or not, that is no longer your problem. Whatever happens from here, whether or not you get an apology and can reconcile your relationship, that is on her.”

Lauren gave a sniffle and reached for the napkin sitting on the tray with the coffee pot. Using it to wipe her eyes, she smiled at Pepper. “Daddy told Loki she’s got a condition. A mental health issue. I don’t remember what he called it, but she’s refused to get help until recently. I hope… maybe this will help kick her in the ass so she’ll actually do it.”

“Maybe it will, but either way, Lauren none of this is your fault.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Loki… he’s done so much for my head. He talks about what I’ve done for him, but… I think he’s done just as much for me.”

Pepper patted her hand. “You’ve blossomed here, Lauren. Truly. Even with all this emotional upheaval, you’ve become someone so strong.”

Lauren gave a watery laugh. “Stop! You’ll make me cry and then Loki will worry.”

“We can’t have that now,” Pepper chuckled. “How about that tour? I’m not much of a horse person but they are certainly pretty.”

“They are definitely that. Kids!” Lauren called out. “Let’s show Ms. Potts around.”

Sara and Benny scampered over, Usun trotting along behind like a four-legged nanny. “I have a pony!” Benny giggled, bouncing up and down at Pepper’s side. “I can show you, Ms. Potts!”

“Ms. Potts is like Mrs. Potts on Beauty and the Beast,” Sara chirped. “But you’re much prettier.”

Pepper smiled softly and tweaked Sara’s nose. “Why thank you, Sara, but how about you both just call me Pepper, and I would love to see your pony, Benny.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Benny grabbed her hand and tugged.

Laughing, Pepper got to her feet and the four of them headed around the side of the house as the sun crested the tops of the trees.

***

Loki stepped from the portal into a stand of trees, waiting as the others spread out around him. The portal snapped closed and he materialized his helmet out of thin air, shifted it into the half helmet of gold browband and horns, and slipped it over his head.

“Fancy,” Bucky teased.

“It is far too warm here for the entire thing,” Loki muttered and put his com in his ear. “Stark?”

“Do you know how disgusting this car is? It’s a sedan, Loki. A sedan! And a rental vehicle. There is something sticky on the steering wheel, the engine sounds like someone poured rocks in the motor oil, and I’m not even going to discuss the state of the back seat. Did this man have no concept of hygiene? Good god!”

Natasha snorted out a laugh. “Not up to your standards, Stark?”

“Don’t even start, Romanoff! If you could see the disgusting pigsty I am currently operating you would feel like vomiting too!”

“Prissy,” Bucky coughed.

“Bite me, tin man!”

“Pull it together, Tony. You’ll live.” Steve smirked at Loki. “I’m sure Loki would be willing to delouse you if you need it.”

When all Tony could seem to do was sputter, everyone laughed.

Chuckling softly, Loki raised his hands. “We are shielded from view for the moment, but that does not mean we can’t see who is hiding where.” The shield wavered, then red heat signatures began popping up.

It was a much smaller property than Lauren’s, more the standard style farm. A two-story house with a wraparound porch had a circular drive out front. A large red barn stood three hundred or so feet from the home, with other smaller outbuildings cropping up here and there. A long carport was less than fifty feet from the back of the home and had five vehicles parked beneath it.

Five men were in the barn, three more the house, and one sat sentinel on the front step.

“And Gallo would have made ten,” Loki murmured. “But only one guard. They are feeling overconfident.”

“We could take them now,” Bucky muttered. “Hit them while they’re unprepared.”

“And if there’s another team?” Steve shook his head. “We let this bit with Stark play out.”

“It is a good plan,” Nat murmured.

Loki glanced her way and tilted his head. “Devious is something I do well.”

“You’ve been holding out on us,” Steve muttered, his shield resting at his feet while he waited with his arms crossed.

“I have offered what help was needed. It is not my fault you never asked if I could do more.” Loki cast him a disapproving look.

“Well, I’m sure a shit looking forward to seeing what you’ve got up your sleeve now, Loki,” Bucky grinned.

Loki flicked out his wrist and made his dagger appear, slowly beginning to sharpen it against the stone he held in his other hand. “There will be little I cannot do. I’m afraid your Dr. Strange may be quite… put out by this.”

“Why?” Nat asked, turning on her Widow’s Bites.

“He once thought us equals in strength. I’m afraid that is no longer the case.” Loki laughed softly but it had a very wicked undertone to it.

“You and Strange have never gotten along. What happened there?” Bucky asked.

“Hm, it is unimportant,” Loki muttered.

“Strange called him a witch,” Thor chuckled.

“Shut up, brother.”

“Aren’t witches just another kind of magic user?” Steve asked. “Like Wanda?”

Thor snickered. “Not on Asgard.”

“Foul creatures,” Loki muttered. “Always so pessimistic and just… witchy!”

“They wear a lot of black, so it’s an easy similarity to make,” Thor teased.

“Do shut up, you big oaf,” Loki huffed. “Here comes Stark.”

They all fell silent as the car, a sedan indeed, drove up to the house and slowed.

“Around back. There is space in the carport,” Loki murmured.

“Roger that,” Stark muttered, doing as instructed. He parked and got out, stretching as if he’d been stationary a long time.

The door at the back of the house opened. “Gallo. The Valentino wants to see ya in the barn.” The screen door slammed as he headed down the stairs.

“Guy can’t even get breakfast first?” Tony quipped but waved a hand in acknowledgment and lead the way to the barn.

“Natalia, be a dear and take out the sentry, then clear the house,” Loki murmured.

“On it.” She was gone in silence, not even a leaf twitching.

“Captain, you and Barnes get in position to take the barn. If there is no further threat, Thor and I will assist. Otherwise, Stark can call in his suit while Thor and I take out the second team.”

“Got it.” Steve nodded. He and Bucky went the opposite way of Natasha.

Loki continued to watch the house as Thor shifted closer.

“Tell me what you feel,” Thor said softly.

“The storm gathers, but… something has changed.” Loki frowned, watching Natasha slink along the side of the house and creep up on the porch where she put her bite to good use, catching the rifle before the unconscious man could drop it.

“One down,” she murmured, securing him with cuffs. “Moving on to clear the house. Loki, locations?”

“Rear right corner and second floor, front left room.” Loki peered curiously at the figure on the second floor. “He appears to be in the shower.”

“Oh, goody,” Natasha muttered. “So fun.” Her sarcasm was quite clear in the remark.

“Is the change positive or negative, brother?” Thor asked.

The ravens rose to caw and circle above the trees across from them. “I don’t know yet,” Loki murmured.

“Gallo!”

“Valentino,” Tony muttered. “House was awake when I left.”

“Good. We’re gonna move forward with plan B.”

“What’s this map of?” Stark asked and paper rustled down the com.

“Fairgrounds. You know Sidwell, yeah?” Valentino asked.

“Yes you do,” Loki said. “His ma and yours are friends.”

“Yeah, of course. How’s your ma?” Tony asked.

There was the sound of backs being slapped before a new voice answered. “Ah, you know. Bitches if I visit, bitches if I don’t. Same old, same old.”

“His mother still hasn’t given up her recipe for her meat pies,” Loki added.

“You know my ma still complains about not getting yours’ meat pie recipe,” Tony chuckled.

“Well, if yours would give up her cannoli recipe, we could make ourselves a trade,” Sidwell snickered.

“Sidwell, apparently, specializes in explosives. I would be especially careful what you shoot while in that barn, Captain. Blowing it sky high would see my wife quite upset with me.”

“What you here to blow up?” Tony asked.

Steve asked at the same time, “You got any magic tricks that can find the explosives before we accidentally set them off?”

Loki rolled his eyes at tricks. “Give me a moment.”

“Number two is down,” Natasha murmured. “Heading upstairs.”

“Be careful, Natalia,” Thor fairly purred, and Loki threw him a look. “What?” Thor asked, all innocence.

“I had to explain your ways to Lauren. She was not impressed. Keep your seductive tendencies in your pants, brother,” he grumbled.

“You ruin all my fun,” Thor sighed.

“Yeah, yeah!” Sidwell snickered. “C’mon. We’ll show you.” There was a moment of tension which seemed to resonate through Stark’s com. “I mean, Valentino will explain,” he backtracked quickly.

“Watch yourself, Sidwell,” Valentino growled. “The Avengers will suspect somethin’ by now. My guess is, if they had cameras, they’ve probably got an idea what we’re doing here, though they’ll likely be looking at Avirett first. Gives us time to snatch the kids at the fair.”

“What makes you so sure they’ll go?” Tony asked. “Won’t they just lock down the house and come hunting?”

“The little girl was full of Aunt Lu this and Aunt Lu that. How her Aunt always takes her to the fair. I watched her with them, that sweet piece of ass in that, mmm, back-baring dress.” Valentino hummed in appreciation and Loki’s hands froze in mid-air. “If we can snatch her up today too, the things I’ve got planned for her.”

The men all laughed and Loki’s hands slowly clenched. “Get the location of the second team, Stark. Captain, there are no explosives on site.” He watched Barnes quietly scale the side of the barn and sneak inside an upper window.

“House is clear. Moving to the barn,” Natasha murmured. “Don’t kill him just yet, Loki. We need his intel.”

“Then you had best incapacitate him before I get there,” Loki hissed.

“Brother, we have our own job to do. We must stop whatever explosion is set for later,” Thor murmured.

“He speaks of assaulting my bonded Ástvinur. It is my right, Thor!”

“I’ve got him,” Bucky whispered. “He won’t escape, even if I have to put a bullet in his spine. I’ve got this, Loki.”

“So? What’s the plan?” Tony asked.

“The Avengers are a cocky bunch. They’ll likely think they can protect the bitch and her brood. We have a team standing by to blow the Ferris wheel the minute they catch sight of even one of their ilk. We’ll be shadowin’ the girl. Ten-man team. Take the woman and the kids and haul ass outta there. Bianci wants the kids unharmed but... he doesn’t need to know about the woman. Not right away, anyway.” A few of them laughed along with Valentino.

Loki’s teeth ground loudly together. “Stark.”

“Fuck I hate Ferris wheels. So the bomb set or what?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, it’s set. Push of a button and we’re gold. The Avengers will run off to help, leaving only one or two behind to watch the kids, and that’s when we’ll strike.”

“Good. I wanna get outta here. All this fresh air is making me nauseous. The other team good to go?”

“You’s sure asking a lot a questions all of a sudden, Gallo. What’s up with that?” Valentino asked.

“Nothing!” Tony bluffed. “I just wanna get this done. The Avengers make me nervous. Especially that Iron Man. The last thing I need is a missile blowin’ smoke up my ass!”

“Sei sicuro di stare bene?” Valentino muttered.

You sure you’re fine? Loki mentally translated.

“Yeah. I just need some eats. I’m fine, boss,” Tony said.

Loki knew instantly he’d made a mistake. No one called Valentino boss. That moniker was reserved only for Bianci. “Call your armour! Everyone go!” He shifted both himself and Thor to the hayloft beside Barnes just as Valentino drew his weapon on Tony and the rest of his men followed his lead.

“Who are you?” Valentino barked.

Tony only grinned with Gallo’s face. “Oh, FRIDAY. Be a dear and send it in.” The Iron Man suit plowed through the barn door with Natasha steps behind.

“Hello, boys,” she drawled and punched the closest one in the face.

The Captain kicked in the back door to a hail of bullets bouncing off his shield, while Barnes took out two from the loft. Thor sparked with lightning, his eyes on the one likely to be Sidwell, standing closest to Stark, but Loki only had eyes for Valentino as he unloaded two rounds into Tony’s chest. The bullets ricocheted off and Stark’s suit closed around him.

Loki stepped off the second story to land loudly behind Valentino. “You have made a most grievous error,” he sneered when Valentino spun around and gaped at him in horror. Loki stabbed him twice, once in the arm of the hand holding the gun, sending the weapon tumbling to the ground, the second in the abdomen causing him to double over. “How dare you try to take what’s mine! How dare you talk about my woman as if she were a thing of no value to be used and discarded. How dare you!” he roared and slammed his hand around Valentino’s throat to lift him high and hold him suspended in the air. “I should rip out your lungs and feed them to you for so much as suggesting hurting what I claim as my own!”

“Just… job…” he wheezed and Loki stabbed him twice more, a quick in and out to his thighs. Valentino’s scream ripped through the stillness now present in the barn.

“Easy, brother,” Thor murmured, moving closer with caution, the bomb maker held captive by the back of his clothes. He was dangling from Thor’s fist, stunned and twitching from the lightning still rippling along Thor’s skin.

Loki ignored his brother and threw Valentino at the wall where he hung suspended, ice clawing its way over his ankles and wrists as Loki stalked after him, anger running so cold each step sent frost racing out from beneath his feet. “You will tell me the location of the second team. You will tell me the location of this bomb, or so help me, not even the Norns will recognize you when I drop you into hell!”

“Stand down, Loki,” Steve said, holding out his hand.

“Yes, listen to your Captain,” Valentino chuckled weakly. “Avengers don’t kill their captives.”

“You shut up,” Steve snarled.

Loki drew up in front of the man and dragged his dagger down Valentino’s chest, cutting through fabric and kevlar like a hot knife through butter and leaving a thin red line of welling blood behind on the hitman’s sternum. “Let me make this very clear. The knife wound in your abdomen is quite fatal. Already your belly fills with blood. I estimate…” he cocked his head and frowned, “four minutes until you lose consciousness and six until you are dead. Now.” Loki flicked his hand and a chair appeared he sat regally down upon and crossed his legs. “You can give me what I want and I will stop the bleeding, saving your miserable life, or I will wait until you lose consciousness and simply take it from your mind while allowing you to bleed out. Choose.”

Valentino swallowed thickly. “Where’s Gallo?” he asked.

“Choose.”

“Is he dead?”

“Choose!” Loki roared, causing his eyes to turn red and ice to coat everything around him in a three-foot radius.

“Loki…” Steve murmured, stepping closer.

He cast a disdainful glare at the man in the blue suit. “You cannot make me save this man, Captain. I won’t do it without the answers I seek. He talks, or he dies.”

“Loki, this isn’t our way.”

“No, Captain. It isn’t your way, but it is mine.” He shifted his gaze to Natasha. “And hers.” He turned to look at Barnes. “And, I suspect, his.” Barnes only arched a brow. He looked at the man in the red suit but received no protestations from Stark, and Thor just tapped his hammer against his thigh.

“You’re really gonna let him kill me?” Valentino gasped.

“I am not killing you, you are dying and there is no one with enough medical skills to stop the internal bleeding who can get to you in time before you perish except me, and none of them can force me to assist you. So chose, Valentino. The team and the bomb or your life.”

Fear coated his face and Valentino’s eyes darted around the room, taking in all his unconscious men. “Okay, okay! I’ll talk!” he barked.

“Excellent. The team and the bomb, if you please.” Loki got to his feet and wiped his blade off on Valentino’s clothes. “But know this. If you lie to me, I will know. They do not call me the God of Mischief and Lies for nothing.” He watched absolute terror fill the man’s face and smiled, wicked, sharp, and deadly. “Look at you. You’re holding up better than Gallo did. He pissed himself when I made him choose.” Loki laughed and dragged his dagger down Valentino’s cheek. “Come now… Francis. The bomb and the second team. Time is ticking away, as is your life with every beat,” he tapped the dagger on his chest, “beat,” and tapped it again, “beat of your heart.”

White-faced, Valentino told him everything.

***

Loki’s steps were long and gliding as he paced out of the barn with Thor on his heels. Barnes jogged out a few seconds later and called his name, prompting Loki to pause long enough to allow the soldier to catch up.

“Would you really have let him die?” Bucky asked.

Thor chuckled and Loki smiled the same grin he’d used on Francis. “My dear, Barnes. However, would I explain such a thing to my wife? But I do have a reputation. Why not use it to our advantage?”

“That isn’t a no, Loki,” Bucky grumbled but a smirk was twitching his lips.

Loki sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Had Valentino passed out, I would have taken what I wished from his mind and healed him before leaving him for SHIELD to deal with trussed up like a villsvin awaiting the spit. Now, are you joining us, or staying here?”

Bucky shook his head. “Think I’ll leave it to you. I better talk Steve off the ledge.”

“Ah, yes. I believe I may have smudged his moral compass today. Pity. He will know better for next time.” Loki flicked his wrist and nodded to Bucky while Thor laughed uproariously and walked through the open portal.

“Come, brother. It is time to have some fun!” Thor called.

“Don’t wreck the town. Don’t hurt any civilians,” Tony warned from the open maw of the barn.

“What do you take me for?” Loki huffed and rolled his eyes.

Stark’s mask snapped up. “I was talking to Thor,” Tony smirked.

“Well, then…” Loki only smiled and walked through the portal.

“Hey! Reindeer games!” Tony barked before Loki could close it behind him. “Where’s my helicopter?”

His smile turned devious. “Why… I do believe it’s in pieces all over the lawn.”

“What!” Tony yelped, eyes bugging out.

“I dislike being spied upon,” Loki snarled and shut the portal with a snap.

“He’s not going to let that go,” Thor murmured, striding with Loki down the still quiet streets of Greenville.

Loki shrugged. “I can fix it if it is that big a deal.”

“Will you?”

He smirked at his brother. “No.”

Thor snickered. “I figured as much.”

“Did you get what you needed from Sidwell?” Loki asked, slowing as they reached the fairgrounds.

Here, already, there was activity. Farmers tending livestock, which… confused him. He had no idea why there were rather large hogs, fluffy and overly clean cattle, and large draft breed horses held in pens off to the side.

“I did,” Thor murmured and glanced at Loki. “This just became more difficult.”

Loki snapped his fingers. “Get the bomb. I will deal with this… crew.”

“And keep all the fun for yourself? Bah!” Thor huffed.

Again, Loki rolled his eyes. “We do not have time to argue about this. Sidwell told you how to disarm it, and if you can’t, you can get it out of here before it goes off.”

“As easily as you could, Loki. Just admit you need to beat the crap out of a few people.”

“Fine! I wish to beat the crap out of a few people. Valentino barely took the edge off,” he huffed.

Thor chuckled and bounced his fist on Loki’s shoulder. “I will see to the bomb. Shall I assume people can no longer see us?”

“Correct, but I used the same spell as when we were children. You can rid yourself of it whenever you wish. Let us finish this. I am tired of my wife being upset.” Loki flowed away, heading toward the far side of the fairgrounds where a white van was parked while Thor jogged toward the Ferris wheel.

The van was nothing special. A large cube van without identifiable markings, like the one Agent Hill often used for surveillance, but inside… inside sat the two men who had helped place the bomb. They were waiting for further orders, orders which would not be forthcoming.

Valentino had been kind enough to explain how Sidwell had built the bomb overnight, snuck into the fairgrounds and placed it under the mechanical unit for the Ferris wheel, then returned to wait with the others while he’d left the two in the van as lookouts.

Jimmy Johnson had been in town long enough to learn there would be a parade down the main street starting in less than an hour. After, the entire town made their way to the fairgrounds where the day was spent judging contests, playing games, and going on rides before the big barbeque, dance, and fireworks later that evening.

The men were to blend in with the crowd and set off the bomb once Valentino gave the word.

The wellspring of rage he’d been doing his best to keep contained finally overflowed. They would have killed dozens, injured so many more, all to take the children of his heart and the woman who was his soul.

There was no hesitation as he stalked toward the back of the van and ripped the doors off their hinges. The men inside jumped up in surprise, stumbling together in their haste. “What the fuck…?”

“Gentlemen,” Loki smiled as he pulled his horns from his head. “You are about to have a terrible day.” He gave the horns a spin before chucking them through the door, hitting the man on the right in the face as Loki stepped inside.

“My nose!” Blood spurted from beneath the fist clamped to his face.

“You’s gonna pay for that!” Jimmy snapped.

Loki only laughed and dodged the wildly thrown punch, returning his own to the man’s ribs. A sharp crack sound and Jimmy screamed. Loki smiled and wrenched his head up by his hair. “I wondered where you had slithered off to, weasel. You were not with your friends, but I knew I would catch up with you eventually.”

The man with the broken nose lunged at him, but Loki materialized a dagger and slammed it into his thigh. The high pitched squeal he made, like that of a pig, hurt Loki’s ears. “Now, now. I am busy at present. Wait your turn.”

The second man fell to the floor, grabbing his leg.

“I remember humans being so much tougher back in the day,” Loki sighed. “You are all just so… fragile now,” he muttered, grabbing the hand flailing at him and breaking Jimmy’s thumb with nothing more than a squeeze of his fingers.

“Ah! Stop, stop! I give up! What do you want? I’ll do anything!” he blubbered.

“Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy… how foolish you are. How forgetful. I told you, quite clearly, to stay away from my woman,” Loki growled in his face, watching as Jimmy’s eyes widened in fear when the glamour of his humanity slowly burned away beneath the blue of his Jotun form. “Yet, here you are, conspiring to take her from me. Did you really think I would allow anyone to take my woman!” he bellowed.

“No! No, no! We were supposed to take the kids! Just the kids!”

“Lies! Valentino changed his mind and wished to take my Lauren for himself. For doing so, he has paid in the coin of blood for his indiscretion against me, against what I claim as mine. Now… now it is your turn,” he hissed and traced an icy trail down the man’s cheek with his finger.

Jimmy’s eyes rolled back at the first contact and he fell into a dead faint.

“Ugh,” Loki huffed, disgusted. “Like I said. Fragile. So weak it’s embarrassing.”

“Please don’t kill me,” blubbered the other man he’d nearly forgotten.

Loki dropped Jimmy to the floor. “The detonator if you please.”

“Cell… cell phone!” He pointed to the one laying on the floor near Loki’s foot.

Loki stepped on it. “Some very nice people from SHIELD will be round to collect you. Behave for them and you will, likely, never see me again. Stir up trouble…” He arched a brow and let the threat hang.

“Yeah, yeah! Yeah. Whatever you say!”

He nodded frantically and Loki stepped over the fallen Jimmy to retrieve his helmet. “Very good.”

“You’d best watch your back,” the man murmured.

Loki narrowed his eyes and glared at the bleeding fool as he allowed his human glamour to return. “Why?”

“Bianci, he’s a mean son of a bitch. He ain’t gonna be happy you all interfered with his business.”

“Bianci will not long have a business to be concerned with,” Loki smiled and jerked his dagger from the man’s leg. Before he could do anything but draw breath to scream, Loki slammed the hilt into the man’s jaw and sent his eyes rolling back in his head as he joined Jimmy in unconsciousness. “Cretin,” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “Come in, Agent Myers. I’m certain you and your men can handle it from here.”

“Loki.” He stepped into the back of the vehicle. Tall and broad of shoulder, the man was exceptionally bald but had bushy dark brows that always reminded Loki of fuzzy insects.

“That one will need a medic, the other has a few broken bones. Nothing serious. I keep forgetting how breakable you humans are.” He shrugged and sauntered for the door. “Thor has the bomb?”

“He managed to remove it without incident. We’re in the process of taking it apart and will soon have the components safely stored.”

“Excellent. I shall leave you to it.” He stepped off the back of the van and Myers stuck his head out the opening.

“Hey, Loki. Is it true?”

“What?” Loki asked, slipping his horns back on his head.

“I overheard a rumour that you and Lauren are… a thing.”

“Thing?” he arched a brow and stared at Myers.

“You know, a thing. Like, you’re dating.”

He said it as if he hoped such a thing were not true and Loki lifted his chin, annoyance filling him at finding out she’d had another admirer. “Lauren and I are not dating.”

Myers gave a relieved sigh. “Oh, well then-”

“We are engaged to be wed.” His face fell into a look of utter shock. “Though, technically, we are already married by Asgardian standards.” Smirking, Loki turned and walked away. “Have a nice day, Agent Myers.”

“You… you too.”

Loki looked back over his shoulder, horns glinting in the sun, matching the gleam of amusement he was certain was in his eyes and let his grin widen. “Oh, I’m certain I will, Agent. Very certain.”

Next Chapter

#balance #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson fanfiction #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #Avengers #the Avengers #Avengers au #Avengers fanfiction

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plaguedparadox · 6 years

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Anything You Want - Chapter One

The Roommate

“I could give you anything!”

Those familiar words echoed out in my mind as I tried to pull at the things holding me back, my mind swimming far too much for me to even concentrate. The smell of damp keeping me aware that I was still in the same place as I had been for a small while now. Trapped by something out of my control. How did I get here again? My thoughts asked. I should’ve just listened. Exhaustion muddied my mind more as I began to recall what had happened.

I was content with life, I had a steady job, decent coworkers for the most part and had constant company thanks to a certain someone - My roommate. My roommate had been living with me for about a year now and was a decent man most of the time when he wasn’t giving off an air of hostility and looking like he was a moment away from stabbing someone but apart from that he was nice enough, he helped pay the rent almost effortlessly every time that rent was due, he helped keep the place clean and he kept the place stocked with supplies. But living with him made me uncomfortable, there was just something about him that weirded me out as if a darkness hung over him and it didn’t help that he seemed to stay within the shadows as much as possible to watch me - not that I ever said anything, I was too unnerved to.

Much like what was happening now, I sat on the place of the sofa I had long claimed as mine when I had initially moved in but I wasn’t at all relaxed like I should have been. My eyes drifted from the television as I played an old Mario game and over to the man sitting in his chair that was in the corner of the room, the one spot where light never seemed to reach. Ugh, he’s staring at me again. My thoughts huffed out as I tried to go back to playing the game only for my attention to land once again on my roommate who had apparently gone back to his reading. He always seemed to be able to read my mind and then act on it. My thoughts complain about a lack of a specific product that I like while most people wouldn’t notice or care about? Bam! That product is now plentiful in the apartment. I think about decorating the apartment at any point? It’s redecorated the exact way I had thought about doing it the next day. He claims it’s just a coincidence but things like that happen a lot more often than just those two examples and it was freaking me out the more and more it happened.

About an hour ago I let out a victorious cry as I finish the level before placing the controller down and reaching for my phone as I planned to call the local pizza place, only to hear my roommate ordering what seemed to be my favourite kind of pizza and only that. I hummed to myself before thinking that a soft drink would go well with that, preparing to still call the pizza place before I heard him quickly ask whoever he was calling about if he could order a drink. I felt my eye twitch in annoyance as I listened to his order, not feeling at all bad considering how often he would just stare at me and listen to my phone calls. And now here we were as I worked on beating another level as the pizza guy took forever to arrive. How long does it take to make and deliver a pizza to a place that’s just down the street? My thoughts complained as my stomach started to growl more violently than it had been throughout the past hour.

A sigh from him drew my attention over. “This is taking too long. I’ll be right back.” His voice seemed to growl as he stood up and waltzed out of the apartment only to come back about five minutes later with the pizza and drink that seemed to have come from the pizza place. “The idiot didn’t recall the apartment number and was about to eat our stuff himself.” He gruffed out before placing the large bottle and pizza box on the coffee table in front of me. I was quick to open the box and take a barely warm slice of the pizza, not really caring about the heat of the meal as I was so hungry. Of course, pizza is just pizza but if you haven’t eaten all day thanks to work and an addiction to gaming then any food tastes just about heavenly once you begin eating it so as I took the first bite a satisfied moan left my lips. A low chuckle sounded out from the man who now sat beside me, my eyes fell on him as I squinted up at him, mentally questioning the man as I did. His cheeks had a slightly pink tint as took a slice for himself, his body strangely close to mine considering he spent most of his time in the chair in the corner of the apartment.

“Hey, D?” I ask softly, having finished my last slice and leaving the last one for him. I didn’t know his full name, he just told me to call him by the initial if I was to call him something. I wait for him to reply with a small hum before continuing with what I wanted to say. “Why did you choose to live with me? You seem to have plenty of money so I don’t get why you chose to share a place with an office worker that can barely keep the rent up herself…” I ask, mumbling near the end as I put myself down which was rather typical considering my dull lifestyle as my only fun outlet was gaming. D was the only person outside of coworkers I spoke to as well, most of my friends being online so I couldn’t just go hang out with them.

D looked off to the side for a moment before pulling his almost pure black eyes over to me. “I chose you because you needed me. And I didn’t need nor want a fancy apartment, despite my liking for more pricey items, an expensive place to live isn’t very practical. Plus it doesn’t help that I- ...Nevermind.” Was his rather confusing response. I didn’t need him as far as I could tell as he and I barely interacted as it was so it wasn’t as if him leaving would affect me mentally, he just made life more convenient for me. I hummed in thought for a moment before bidding the man goodnight and heading off to one of the few places where I felt like I had privacy - my room. My room was strangely the fanciest place in the apartment, not by my choice though as I walked in one day to find it like it was decorated as if royalty was living there, which was shortly after D had moved in. I flopped onto the bed, not really caring that I was had been wearing baggy sweatpants and a hoodie all day. Work tomorrow, hope it goes well. My thoughts pray tiredly as I wrap my lightweight blanket around me, not needing much in the terms of insulation thanks to the thick clothes.

I went to work the next morning feeling as if I hadn’t slept and hating having to walk all the way there which was normal as I was outrageously tired and didn’t own a car. I hear the padding of paws on the ground behind me but I don’t turn around, I was well aware that a dog had taken to following me to and from work, it had been for months now but I wasn’t going to take it in just in case it was owned - locally owned dogs had a habit of walking around the area and no one seemed to panic about it so I followed their lead.

It wasn’t long before I was at the office building and sitting in my cubicle typing away in the mind-numbing way I was used to, the only upside of this job were some of my coworkers. Nate, Thomas and Tyler. Nate, Thomas and Tyler were more enthused about the job than I so no one anticipated us hanging out at all, being from different departments didn’t help, but we always met up in the park nearby for our lunch break, Nate and Thomas often breaking into song while Tyler and I just spoke. Thomas was the poor, unfortunate soul stuck in the same department as me, us only meeting thanks to the fact our cubicles were right next to each other. “Another day, another pile of paperwork…” I groan out as I glare at the mountain of paperwork someone had plopped onto my desk without me noticing. I had a good idea about who it was though. Thomas was busy typing away, whistling to himself to pass the time and to help block out the monotonous sound of keyboards clacking away. “Hey Sanders, any idea who placed this lot here?” I ask him, my gaze still firmly on the papers.

The whistling stopped, alerting me to the fact he heard me before a hum sounded out. “Um… I think it was Mimi. I saw her walking by but I wasn’t really paying attention.” He muttered before wheeling his chair over and flicking through the pile. “Yep, this is Mimi’s work alright. I saw her working on this yesterday as I was walking to the kitchen.” He answered before rolling back other to his desk and returning to typing away on the clunky office keyboard. Another groan left my lips as I thought of Mimi Sanchez, the ‘queen bee’ of the office, it was people like her that made it feel as if high school never ended as she held an obnoxious ranking system over people based on things that were nonsensical to me and it wasn’t as if she was a higher up, she did the same work as the rest of us sitting in these cubicles. All she got was a higher pay due to her rather obvious relationship with the department manager.

I sigh silently before sifting through the work, sorting it into categories and checking for any errors as I went. Mimi typically used me to ‘proofread’ her work which was annoying but as long as I did it she didn’t have room to complain. Soon enough the work day was over and I was biding my coworkers goodnight and starting my journey home. Their wishes of me to keep safe echoed through my mind as I climbed onto the bus as I felt far too exhausted with life to walk back. I wonder why D never asks me to stay safe… My thoughts murmured as I watched the buildings pass by as I waited for the bus to reach my stop. Once I was home I was quick to hang up my coat and rushed into the kitchen to try and start dinner, a routine just as familiar as waking up in the morning. D didn’t usually show his face until dinner was over, always claiming he was busy with something which was disappointing to hear. It may seem selfish but I would at least like someone to talk to during this time of the day.

“How was work?” His deep voice sounded out from behind me making me jump and turn around quickly to face him, his arms were crossed firmly behind his back in his usual standing pose. I mutter that work was fine, rather unsure what to say considering he had broken a routine that had been going on for almost as long as he lived here. He’s usually busy during this time. I turn back to what I was doing, trying not to think about how weirded out I was that he suddenly appeared as soon as I wanted company. “Things with work got wrapped up faster than usual so we have some extra time together.” D practically purred out as he leaned against the counter I was using as I started to chop away at some vegetables.

D’s voice usually had what seemed to be a purr in it when he spoke to me, something I learned to ignore within months of knowing him. He wasn’t a flirt as far as I could tell and he never brought anyone home so I just chalked it down to him just talking in a weird way as he also seemed to emphasise a lot of words. Personally, I adored the way he spoke as it was calming and familiar and it meant that I was safe because I was home. “Well, it’s nice that to hear!” I chirp out absentmindedly as I continued to chop away, trying to be careful not to cut myself on the knife. A yelp left my lips and suddenly my hand was wrapped up in a damp cloth and larger hands surrounding it as I was lead out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. D was quick to get the first aid kit and patch me up. “Thanks, D…” I mutter, feeling rather embarrassed that I had gotten hurt in such a silly manner.

My eyes flutter shut so I don’t have to look at him, his eyes were always rather intense when he focused on something. “It’s not too deep so it won’t be much of a problem to fix.” An odd pressure was pressed against my finger and then my cheek before I felt a band-aid being wrapped around my wound. My eyes opened slightly to see my roommate staring back at me, making me feel more and more uncomfortable as time slipped by. I mutter that dinner needs to be made and shift awkwardly away from the man before sprinting back into the kitchen and continuing what I was originally working on.

Dinner was more awkward than him helping me and the small time after dinner was more awkward than that. I sigh and shift slightly in my seat as I tried to focus on the game playing out on the TV and the controller buzzing in my hand as my character got hit. D was once again in his seat in the corner of the room, seemingly using this time to try and complete another chapter of his book but I could feel his stare burning into the side of my face as I played my game.

I was used to my days playing out so similarly, I wake up, get washed, get dressed, then I make breakfast for both D and I before run off to work, I hang out with Thomas, Tyler and Nate while at work, I then head home and prepare dinner all alone, have dinner with D, have a few hours to do whatever I want before I tell D goodnight before running off and collapsing on my bed, and then it repeats and repeats so when something new happens I was a bit thrown off. Then again, D always did something to throw me off, like the day he decided to redecorate the entire apartment without me knowing, took him long enough to apologise for it. I sighed as I laid on my bed, my gaze on the ceiling as I felt the temperature of the room cool down and allowed the strings of sleep to pull me into the web of unconsciousness.

The next morning I expected things to slip back into the routine but D being unpredictable made sure to change the routine once more. I had just finished my breakfast and was busy putting things away in my bag before slipping it around my shoulder. I was just about to leave when I heard his voice purr out: “Be careful on your way to work, dear~” Which caused me to turn, just for peace of mind in case he was speaking over the phone only to see him leaning against the wall and smiling at me with no phone in sight. I squeak out a small thank you before rushing out the door and towards the office building that I called work.

At work, I was back to clicking away at my keyboard in my cubicle, Tyler standing next to me as he watched me work. “What’s up, Friendly Giant?” My nickname for him flew off of my lips in the usual way as I continued to focus on my work. Which was nothing much as I always made sure I didn’t fall behind unlike the woman who often called upon me to do her work for her.

“Oh, nothing much, Smalls, it’s just that the new guy from my department had apparently been coming in here to get a look at you.” Tyler teased, ruffling my hair slightly. He was all for me finding a partner, so as soon as someone showed interest he made sure to encourage them but because of his gung-ho attitude, it usually drove my potential partners away. The tall man was an angel but it was just too much at times. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I haven’t told him about D. “This might be the lucky fella!” He chuckled out before pulling me to meet the stranger who just walked into the office space from a different part of the building. “Smalls, meet… Zackary! Zack, this is my best friend who I’ve been telling you about.” Tyler threw a wink my way before excusing himself.

I cleared my throat awkwardly before saying a hello to the rather attractive man, something in me wanted to make a good impression but a deeper part of me began to panic about what Tyler had said to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I practically melted as I heard his voice. I nervously repeat the phrase before I hear Mimi shriek out that she needed me. Ugh, I hate that woman. I wish she’d just disappear. I turn to him but before I can get a word out he says: “It’s okay, I understand. I’ll see you during lunch, for coffee?” I nod quickly, give him a small smile before rushing back to my desk and beginning to help the woman who was somehow tone deaf even without singing. A small pat on my back caught my attention and I pulled my head up to look at Thomas who gave me a thumbs up before turning to watch Zack head back into the part of the building he worked in.

Lunch came quickly, or at least it seemed but it could have just been my excitement, and my group were at the usual picnic table, chatting happily to each other while we waited for Zack to show up. Tyler let us know ahead of time that the newbie was going to be held up a small while so we didn’t worry. So I didn’t worry. “Did you hear about Mimi? I heard that she really sick and had to be hospitalised not even an hour ago!” I heard a group of women gossip from the next table over. They soon went on to theorise that happened but I zoned out of that conversation after someone else confirmed that Mimi was sick. About ten minutes went by before Zack decided to make himself known. We all said our hellos to him before he took my hand and gently dragged me away from the group so we could go for that coffee that was mentioned. We talked as we walked and Zack proved that he wasn’t just attractive in the looks department but also in personality. Every now and again he would say something that made my cheeks turn scarlet but I brushed it off for the most part. He already had Tyler being overly giddy about the possible relationship, I didn’t want to add to that.

We met up again shortly after work and continued any conversation that us heading back to work after lunch interrupted. But the sweet sentences of his was overridden by the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. When Zack wasn’t paying attention I’d do a quick sweep of the area and try to spot if someone was, in fact, watching us and prove that I wasn’t just being paranoid. “This has been wonderful, I hope that we can do this again sometime.” His voice chirps out, his arm slowly curling around my waist and pulling me into a hug. “I’m glad Tyler introduced us~” Zack’s voice purred as our foreheads touched. I wasn’t sure why but I didn’t really like his purr despite liking the lack of distance, it was safe to say that I had a crush on the guy.

“I’m glad too.” I give him a small smile before I feel myself get pulled back into a hard object. Confused, I turn to look and notice D glaring over at my new crush. “Oh hey D, this is Zack. He’s a new coworker.” I say softly, trying to diffuse the tension in the air. D grunts slightly as if he really didn’t care about who Zack was, and that was very possible. He didn’t really care when I introduced him to Thomas or Nate either. I’ve never seen him this angry… My thoughts hushed out as I tried to move away from D’s iron grip only to stop as soon as I heard him growl under his breath.

D cleared his throat before moving me behind him and closing the distance between him and the other man. “So, you think you can flirt with my dear…?” He asked rather calmly, the purr missing from his voice. A small gulp left Zack as D’s cold anger swept across the area, making him seem far more threatening than he was being in that moment. “Coworker or not, you have no right to her. Understood?” The venom in his words were practically dripping as his hand slowly curled around Zack’s collar and lifted him up slightly. “There will be no second warnings.” More of a promise than a threat considering the tone, and it made me flinch slightly. I knew that D liked things to go a certain way but to downright threaten someone is something I didn’t think he was capable of.

I make a small sound of protest before his cold, harsh eyes were trained on me. “D, come on…” I mutter softly, pulling his free hand over to me and making him move away from the other man. “Let’s just go upstairs, I need to prepare dinner…” I say as I gesture to the building’s main doors, hoping that the promise of food will pull his attention away from the anger filled scenario that just played out. The man regarded me gently for a second before shaking his head and glaring at Zack, only for his head to zip back over to me after a small tug on his arm. D huffed out a small ‘fine’ before allowing me to pull him into the building. “Today was fun, Zack! I’ll see you tomorrow!” I call out, beaming at my coworker before focusing on getting my roommate upstairs.

Once we were back into our apartment, the tension grew again. “I don’t like him.” Said my roommate as he stormed into the kitchen and began to work on the job I usually did. I opened my mouth to question his actions but he cut me off. “I’m making dinner to apologize for my actions, I should have warned you ages ago that my anger is nothing to sneeze at and I tend to be… reactionary. I felt as if he got far too close and I got worried for your safety. You two haven’t even gone on a date yet and he was pulling moves on you. I had to say something.” He explained as he pulled things out of the freezer and read through it. D’s eyebrows narrowed as if he was thinking before looking over his shoulder at me, his hair falling over his left eye rather gracefully. “This won’t be a good enough apology in my book, so, on Friday after work… I’d like to take you out to dinner.” Was all he said before he turned back and took the item of food out of the packaging.

It was a shock to the system to hear those words so I was frozen for a small bit, trying to process what he said. “Wait. What.” A small brain fart before I finally caught up. “You mean like a date?” I asked as I went to stand next to him, placing some of the chosen food on the right trays. My gaze flicked up and over to him, my eyes just about registering his darkening cheeks even if it was only slight. D cleared his throat before taking some of the trays away from me.

“Only if you want it to be.”

#darkiplier x reader #darkiplier fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #markiplier ego #x reader #long post #anything you want

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galfridus1 · 6 years

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Actually Love

Part three of my contribution to Zelthur Weekend. This was originally posted to Tumblr ages ago, but the rest of the fic has kind of grown up around it so I’m re-posting it.

This follows parts One and Two and is fairly obviously inspired by the film Love Actually.

***

It was bright. That was all Zeldris could register as he stared at the glass doors, harshly illuminated in what looked like ultraviolet light. The white, marble tiles were shining, as were the polished metal rails which separated arrivals from their friends and loved ones. It looked suspiciously like a hospital, only less clean.

He was just on the point of complaining about the interminable chatter that was filling his ears when Arthur showed up, extremely large cup of coffee in hand. With a grateful look, Zeldris took the proffered beverage, practically slamming the hot liquid down his throat. Scowling, his eyes swept over the throngs of people, some holding up cardboard signs of dubious quality, others grabbing hold of the railings, bobbing up and down like meerkats as the passengers walked past to the sound of suitcase wheels rolling over the tiles.

“What is this stuff,” Zeldris complained as he crushed the empty paper cup in his fist. “I do not believe it is coffee…”

“It’s airport coffee,” Arthur said cheerfully, his violet eyes sparkling with his smile. “And no doubt it has as much caffeine in it as the proper stuff. Which is just as well because you’re driving home.”

“What?” Zeldris asked sharply. “You said you would…”

“I changed my mind.” Arthur’s grin broadened as his hands went to his hips. “Come on, you’re a much better driver,” he coaxed. “I’ll only fall asleep at the wheel.”

“It’s not even that late!” Zeldris protested, glancing up at one of the many digital clocks which adorned the walls. “You cannot be that tired.”

Arthur too glanced up at the clock, one eyebrow raised. “But Gelda’s plane’s not due for another half hour, and then she’ll have to wait an age at baggage reclaim. It could be ages before she gets here, and you know I’m rubbish at staying awake.”

Zeldris drew himself up at this, squaring his shoulders. “You seem to manage perfectly fine when those friends of yours are around.” He watched Arthur’s mouth open, then close again, this lover’s eyes soft with a silent plea and he suddenly relented. He never could resist Arthur when he looked at him like that. “Fine. I’ll drive.”

“Yes!” Arthur punched the air dramatically and Zeldris’s face worked as he suppressed his smile.

“But make no mistake - you owe me.”

“Glad to pay off the debt. I won’t even make you play Mario Kart this time, unless you want to of course.” At this Arthur winked causing heat to flood to Zeldris’s cheeks. “You look too cute when you blush,” he added, his infectious chuckle echoing through the cavernous hall. Several people turned to look at Arthur, smiling as they did so.

Zeldris pouted, his dark eyes hard with annoyance. “I do not ever look cute…”

“Whatever,” Arthur said casually, his lips curved in a smile as Zeldris’s frown deepened. “You look even more adorable now…”

“Shut up!” Zeldris was on the point on continuing when he saw a shadow cross Arthur’s face, the corners of his mouth dragging down. “What is it?” he asked, turning to follow Arthur’s gaze up to the arrivals board. He let forth a groan of his own as saw the word ‘delayed’ flashing almost gleefully next to Gelda’s flight number.

“Well that’s just terrific!” Zeldris felt his hands curl into fists at his sides, his teeth clenching together almost painfully. It was already ten in the evening and all he wanted to do was go to bed.

He relaxed slightly as a warm hand squeezed his shoulder, allowing himself to lean imperceptibly into Arthur’s touch. “Come on, it’s not all bad.” The words were murmured practically into his ear, comforting and soft. “You know, we could always use the time to join the mile high club.”

“You have to be on a plane for that, you idiot,” Zeldris snapped, his good humour gone. Spinning round he took in Arthur’s innane grin and realised at once he’d been had. “Very funny,” he grumbled, allowing his features to return to their usual glower.

“I know what will cheer you up. Wait here,” Arthur commanded and before Zeldris could protest he was gone, weaving expertly through the crowds. People seemed to leap out of his way, as they always did, his ready smile and boyish good looks persuasive enough for most of the populous.

With a sigh, Zeldris turned back to examine the new arrivals, trying to check off how long it took between planes landing and their passengers turning up at the gates. From the looks of things, the wait at baggage reclaim was around forty-five minutes and Gelda’s flight still had no concrete landing time. “Typical,” he muttered to himself, his pulse ticking under his skin.

“Now come on, take this and stop scowling. You look like you’re sucking a lemon or something.” Zeldris was surprised to see Arthur holding a white coffee cup, a green Starbucks logo emblazoned on the side. “I got this from the other end of the terminal,” Arthur explained as, with a nod of thanks, Zeldris took the cup, relishing the first sip. It was a lot better than the last one, and he allowed the familiar aroma to sooth his nerves.

Side by side, the pair watched as another stream of arrivals made their way through the doors. Without knowing why, Zeldris’s eyes were drawn to a young man, maybe in his early thirties, dressed in a suit and dragging an enormous suitcase behind him. He looked like he’d been away for weeks, his sluggish gait showing him to be rather fatigued and he felt a stab of pity for the weary traveller. It was late in the day to be struggling back home.

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched squeal, the sound reverberating unpleasantly on his ear drums and he whipped round, determined to locate the source of the irritating noise. He did not have to look far. A small boy, no more than three years old, was running full pelt across the terminal, ducking under the rails as he charged. With a clatter, the man Zeldris had been watching dropped his suitcase, kneeling down and stretching out his arms wide. The boy hurtled into him, nearly knocking him back to the floor, but the man steadied himself against the impact, picking up the boy and holding him tight against his chest.

“Now that’s sweet,” Arthur declared as the boy flung his arms round his father’s neck. “I love airports.”

“You would say that.” Zeldris tried to inject a note of disdain into his tone but it did not work. He suddenly felt all gooey inside, the sensation only intensifying as a woman wheeled a pushchair over to the still hugging father and child, joining the ongoing embrace. After several moments the pair broke apart, the woman collecting both the man’s suitcase and the pushchair so the father could carry their son, who was chattering enthusiastically. Zeldris was not surprised when he felt Arthur leave his side, rushing towards the family with a trolley to help them with their bags.

A few moments later Arthur returned, his eyes sparking like stars and his face slightly flushed. “Ok, I decided!” he blurted out as he practically shook with excitement.

“Decided what?” Zeldris asked in confusion. “If you want me to engage with this conversation you will have to be more specific…”

“It’s been a year,” Arthur said, his voice slightly hurt. “I thought you’d remember.”

Zeldris felt himself start to grow impatient. “A year since what?” he snapped. “As I said…”

“Since, you know, the scare.” Arthur’s voice dropped low, the final word coming as a hushed whisper and all at once Zeldris understood. It had indeed been twelve months, almost exactly to the day since they had sat with Gelda in their shared bathroom, glancing nervously at a small stick placed horizontally on the edge of the sink. They had waited for what felt like hours, eyes fixed on the thing which would show in just a few minutes whether or not they were to be parents. It had been negative of course, and Zeldris remembered keenly the disappointment he had unexpectedly felt as the other two celebrated.

Arthur took his hands, their fingers immediately interlacing together. “I said I needed to think,” he murmured, “I didn’t know if I wanted to be… a father. Well, I know now. I’m ready.”

“You are?” Zeldris felt excitement surge in his breast, his face pulling into a grin. “That’s… wonderful!” He looked up at the arrivals board, hoping to see that Gelda’s flight had landed, bursting to share the news. But the interminable delay sign was still blinking.

Stepping closer, Arthur wrapped an arm round his waist, his fingers digging slightly into his side. “Just think, in a year or two we could be here, waiting for Gelda with a baby.” Zeldris leaned against Arthur’s shoulder, allowing his eyes to close with the welcome image. He was snapped from his reverie as Arthur said, “do you think it will have my eyes?”

“Who said you would be the father?” Zeldris pulled away slightly to look at Arthur properly. “It makes much for sense for me to… you know,” he protested.

“I don’t see that,” Arthur replied, his head tilted to one side. “Why…”

“It’s obvious,” Zeldris retorted, “on almost any measure you could care to come up with, I would be the better candidate.”

Arthur smiled and Zeldris was amused to see him stand to attention. “But you forget, I’m taller,” Arthur said, his grin broadening. “We don’t want our child to be tiny.”

“Tiny?!” Zeldris practically yelled, “how dare you…”

“None of this matters right now anyway I guess,” Arthur said placatingly, looking up at the arrivals board. “Gelda ought to decide, right?” After a few moments, Zeldris nodded, allowing the tension to leave his limbs. Arthur was right, nothing could be determined without her.

“When is this bloody plane going to land?” Zeldris looked at Arthur in some surprise; it was rare for him to show temper.

“I thought you liked airports.” Arthur looked at him ruefully and Zeldris smiled. “Come on, no point waiting here until we know more about this flight. Let’s go sit down.” With a twist of the mouth, Arthur followed him towards the hard, grey metal chairs set a little back from the crowd, removing his phone from his pocket as he did so.

“You go get seats. I’m going for a walk.” Zeldris glanced at Arthur’s phone screen, rolling his eyes as the familiar Niantic logo appeared. Why Arthur liked this game he had no clue. “There’s a gym!” Arthur exclaimed as the Pokémon Go app opened up, the phone vibrating as a number of the creatures he did not understand popped up out of nowhere. “And I’ve got to catch this Lapras! I’ve never even seen one in the wild before.”

“This is why you want a child, you’re practically one yourself,” Zeldris called after Arthur’s retreating back, chuckling to himself as a finger was raised in his direction. Slumping onto a seat, he pulled out his kindle, hoping to goodness that Winston Churchill’s biography would keep him awake.

***

Strolling through the glass doors, Gelda looked around, her eyes feeling puffy and slightly sore as she scanned the few men and women scattered around the metal railings. There was hardly anyone in the arrivals hall and she sighed, trying to quell her disappointment. It was one in the morning, and no doubt Zeldris and Arthur had headed home, and let down as she felt she should not blame them. It made no sense for them to get zero sleep that night as well as her.

High heels clattering on the tiles, Gelda made her way towards the exit, wondering with some annoyance if there would be any taxis available at this hour. It was then her eyes caught a flash of ginger and black and she instinctively turned her head to get a better look. Her face pulled into a smile as she saw Arthur and Zeldris slumped against each other, their hair blending together as their chests rose and fell in their sleep. Arthur’s mouth was open as he snored slightly and Gelda giggled as she moved closer towards them.

Without moving a muscle, Zeldris opened his eyes, meeting her gaze as she approached. Gelda smiled warmly; she should have known he would wake up, he always did sleep like a cat. Instantly on the alert Zeldris shook Arthur gently, the latter groaning slightly as he righted himself and rubbed his eyes.

“Thanks for waiting, you didn’t have to,” Gelda murmured as Zeldris shot to his feet, pulling her into a soft kiss and then taking her bags from her before she could protest.

“Of course we did. Come on, let’s go home,” he replied as Arthur reluctantly pulled himself up, Gelda supporting him as he staggered slightly. “Arthur has something to tell you tomorrow…” he added mischievously.

“Zel… lemme sleep, kay?” Arthur murmured and Gelda laughed as the three made their way out of the airport.

#nnt #zelthurweekend #zeldris #arthur pendragon #gelda #domestic au #zelthur

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todokanai-suishou · 3 years

Text

Excerpt of a fic I didn’t know I still had

Vanilla Twilight - an excerpt of what used to be a ceo!JJK AU fanfic written at three AM somewhen in november. I don’t know why I didn’t choose names.

Neither do I know why I’m posting this. Good Night. WC: 2,4k

„As many times as I blink I'll think of You tonight“

It's been what? Three months now? Yeah, it must have been about three months since she told him „I don't want to see you again.“ Three Months since the love of his way too young life just stumbled out of it completely, three months since he's been drowning himself in work,

and yet, only two days since his father told him not to.“You need a break“ he said. „You'll die before you reach my age if you keep overworking like that.“ „Take a leave for the next week or so, the company won't go down in flames because you're missing for a few days.“

But yet it felt like the company was the only thing that held him together anymore. It may have been unhealthy to work that much, but sitting on his rooftop right now and starring at the sun that was setting wasn't any better. The company might not have missed him, but he missed her and if he was wide awake like that, from the lack of work or excercise to keep him from falling asleep as soon as he even saw a bed, it was worse.

There was nothing to distract him now. No means to make up for what he had done and no reason to not think of her this very second

on this very day, that once was so special to them both.

A tear ran down his face as he gripped the magnetic bracelets tighter with his left hand. Two years had passed since he's got his.

„If my heart was a house, you'd be home.“ they'd say. The compasses reacting to each other wildly, needles swinging left to right beneath the glass as the bracelets were pressed together.

At one point, after she left hers at his place that night, he stopped wearing his. Though for the time being, he still looked into the little flowery treasure chest in his closet to see if hers was still with his, Hoping she'd secretly somehow come to sneak in and steal it like she did his heart three years ago, or that it was all a bad dream and he woke up with her next to him like they did on every trip, or back somewhen two and a half years ago when she fell asleep in his apartment after watching some movie he didn't want to watch in first place. He still hoped, wished, dreamed he could go back to that.

And every time it was devastating. It was devastating to see her bracelet next to his, lying there and just pointing at the other as theirs would if they were within a few metres.

But she wasn't. And he had no idea where the hell she was. And it killed him. It killed him when he told her she'd never change, that he made her say good bye instead of letting her into his apartment, when he was the only one she trusted with her deepest thoughts, the only one she felt whole around and when she was the only one he ever really loved that loudly, and he didn't tell her until she walked out of his life,her still saying „I'm sorry“. When, to him, he was always the one that should be saying sorry for the things he said and did that night.

Or maybe they shouldve both just said sorry, talked it out.

He sighed „no.“ She made it clear that she didn't want to talk. She didn't want him to apologize, or at least not accept it. Letting her pride led by the pain get in the way ...and that was just what it was.

He created a hole in both their hearts and for a second he contemplated just throwing both of these bracelets down the 24th floor into the rose planted and flower filled garden, so he wouldn't find them even if he tried - and They could fall anywhere.

Another sigh from him as he clenched his hand tighter around the bracelets, holding them up as though he was ready to throw them as soon as the sun would have fully set.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

He just got flashbacks of that night when she gave it to him.

„I swear to god if you ever lose or break yours, or if I see another person with it, I'll kill you.“ she'd say smiling, but he fully knew she meant it. „There's only two of them“ „They were custom made.“ They were his blessing and now his curse. He looked up into the sky, somehow trying not to cry while it seemed like the same full moon from back then came to taunt him now, laughing at him with „Tsuki No Usagi“ laughing along at how pathetic he was.

But he cried. He cried a lot, clutching both of these bracelets over his heart. He couldn't do anything to them. He knew he wouldn't.

Except for the smell of her perfume on the couch pillow she prefered to lean her head on and hug, they were the only thing of hers that was still with him and he thought that maybe, just maybe...

in another universe he'd still be with her, with these bracelets.

And maybe in this world one day, he'll get her back, give her the bracelets and somehow everything goes back to normal. Despite the trust being broken, the wishful thinking didn't stop. A sillouette to build him up again.

However when he cried his last, he didn't mean to get up. Something drew him to the stars that night. All he got was a blanket before tiredly making his way back up just to continue whatever he meant to do.

He fell asleep a few hours after getting the blanket she gave him, on the roof that night, in between looking up at the stars, looking up at the constellations trying to find the ones she tried to show him before. Failing miserably, like tonight, two years ago, and almost laughing through the tears he shed, at how she showed him a million times and he still couldn't figure out all that astrology stuff, or how they worked, and so “well”.

All he knew was that looking for even the slightest signs of stars and constellations in the sky, brought him a little closer to her.

Maybe she'd be looking up tonight too, probably in a different timezone, to a different time, he didn't know.

But what the did know was that for a second, while actually finding the little bear, he was happy. „I did it,love, I did it.“ For the first time in forever while thinking about her, he actually smiled.

It was a weird feeling of, not quiet feeling content, but better, a little less sad. Maybe he'd always spend like three hours just ripping strands of his black hair out while trying to find anything in the sky. Texting you like he did that night.

“And love, you won't see it, but, I did it. I found one of the constellations, I bet you'd be so proud now. I'm still lost though. I wish you were here with me. To tell me about all of them. And your days. And you and what I missed And see your probably already new hair do and hear you laugh and rant about your literature professor. I just want to see you. Hear you. Happy. And mostly I want to give you your bracelet. I can't even remember which one was yours though. Please remind me.”

A lie. He knew exactly her bracelet had a little slit on one of the wooden pearls, as he accidentally lost track of the knife while cooking. He was apologizing so many times that night while she yelled about him almost chopping her arm off and he almost had to laugh again. She raged that night, but eventually they'd laugh about it later on.

„JK, I'd never forget“ he wrote below a photo he sent. Him wearing his bracelet for once while looking at how the compasses searched for each other. Knowing well the photo wouldn’t reach her though. That she still had him blocked, yet...

Wondering if one day she'd search for him again. Knowing she'd be the only one who could find him instantly.

„Good Night, flower girl.

I Really Miss you terribly“

„Sincerely, me“ he typed, deleted „yours tru-“ deleted.

„- The dumb ass that almost chopped your arm off about 16 months ago.“

If she could read it, she'd no doubt, be laughing but for now he'd hoped someone else would make her laugh the way he used to.

That she could focus on her studies and not the loss of him and the few grams she no longer carried around with her.

He wished her to be as happy as he can't be right now, as happy as she can be and with other, possibly better people, who would treat her well. Also that she got better at smash bros and mario cart so people wouldn't laugh at her being terribly bad again.

„Maybe I should also take on drawing lessons“ he whispered before tiredly closing his eyes „but I guess if she ever found out, she'd be the one to almost cut my arm off“

slight reminders of her telling him the only thing she was really good at was drawing and how she showed him and he really didn't figure out how anything worked at all flashed in his mind as he calmed.

„I'll teach you“ and only she could.

Well, technically she couldn't. He was a hopeless case and they both knew. Clowns. Clowns in love, for she loved him as much as he loved her, but the words always stayed unsaid. She'd make an impression that she did the night he ruined her, but he was too far gone.

Never from her mind though. He was still what she'd draw on the weekend when she was not in the mood for her theses or working. He. Though painful, was still her healing in some kind of way.

„You're working on that again?“ Her new dorm mate said as she sketched his face from memory. They had a different model in the art class she enrolled in right now but the face portraits still always went back to him. Much like the pictures where someone posed with scrunched up noses or peace signs.

She really didn't mind it though, for some reason, unless she found the initial sketch of their bracelets, drawing him was therapeutic, falling asleep on those pictures was therapeutic.

And her just getting a hick up as she started sketching reminded her „If you get the hick-ups, someone's thinking about you. My mom used to say that.“ She laughed back when she told him one night at one of their week-end trips, half drunk and laughing. Him responding with „Yeah, or someone talks badly about you, my three times divorced and landlord-hated aunt said. She had a hick-up problem.“

More laughter to the backround noise of „if my heart was a house” followed by slurred lines of „sugar we're going down“ and „american idiot.“

She chuckled quietly. „Oh shut up, I want to sleep“ her roommate exclaimed. It wasn't that late though, was it?.

Seven pm, still early, the sun not yet setting. Yet, with the full moon above, she couldn't wait for the sunset, night fall.

She stared at her phone. „Approximately 15 Minutes till the sun starts setting and you usually can't fall asleep until it's getting cotton candy skied, what's wrong this time?“ a chuckle escaped her mouth.

„Bad break up.“ the other girl murmured. „That's the 4th time in 15 days. I think you should get a new guy.“ - „That's also the third in a month. Love just doesn't work for me, believe me.“

„It will.“ The artist said. „Even if the person you think you'll end up with isn't the one, one day, with the right person, it all will.“

She didn't realize tears were falling on her piece of paper as she switched to his contact on her phone, contemplated unblocking him, but eventually she didn't.

It would be better this way. She said good bye and it was irreversible. It always was irreversible for her. Gripping her empty wrist and letting go of the pen for a while she smiled through the tears and said, in a cheerful yet shaky voice.

“Even if it wasn't him, one day, there's someone who won't leave, who you won't leave. One day, I promise.“

Not knowing if it was to reassure her friend, or herself and not realizing she held her breath, until she felt two arms and a blanket wrap around her signaling that „everything will be okay, precious, everything will be okay“

and for once, even without her telling the context of the story no one really knew about, she started to let down her walls and cry to let out the emotions all the parting had led her to.

Even if her friend didn't know or understand her infatuation with Jeons son. She just held her as though the fragile soul, whining loudly like a child that fell and came running with a bleeding knee, would break if she wasn't there to give her the warmth she deserved and obviously needed in that very second.

„You know, I miss him so much.“ a little inaudible whisper said and her friend didn't understand what she meant, but „shhh, shhh, it gets better.“ Came from her until her roommate fell into a deep slumber.

All she saw was the name on the display that wouldn't go off. The display picture looking quite familiar.

Name saying „Jeon Jeon Jeon“ and the caring one wondered if the girl had been catfished and dreams crushed by that person on screen, and if that was exactly why she blocked that number. Ideas about unblocking him and investigating filling her head but then again, as much as she wanted to. She couldn't just meddle in a broken hearts story, especially not her friends.

So she kept her theoretic, tangled and still curious thoughts, knowing they'd stay just that - and left the blanket above the girl that was fast asleep, closing the book with the drawing of the Jeon boy and replacing it with a pillow to slobber on, instead of the art she created.

„Good Night, lovely“ she said as she went outside to take snapshots of the sky, making sure to get her friends beloved constellations on camera, as the sleeping beauty usually did herself. Sneaking in trying not to wake the other up again.

„Good Night, dumbass“ the artist almost fully asleep whispered as her friend said good night the way he did. Some things wouldn't fade and her roommates complaints the next morning, for insulting her, though accidentally, would be surely be one of those.

__________________________

It’s 3am and I have no idea why I’m posting this.

The Idea Of “Vanilla Twilight” is part of a ceo!Jungkook fanfiction I never posted because I usually don’t post my writing for..uh...reasons.

“If my heart was a house -” fanfiction was created on national novel writing month and is a full on trainwreck that might never be finished. The Name as Well as reasons for the writing & inspiration for the bracelet design is lowkey because “if my heart was a house, you’d be home” by Owl City was kind of their Song since they first met and they do be soulmates so... >-<

Said magnetic bracelets stam from the line “if my heart was a compass you’d be north” and basically have magnets pulling “needles” towards eachother whenever they’re close. (They’re custom made, which is why they’re that special to OC & him. Also expensive as hell and she’s a poor lit/art student.) It was partially brought up by OC in a former chapter after they lost eachother at a fully crowded market and didn’t find eachother again for about two hours despite being like 2 minutes away from eachother the whole time.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this it’s three AM lord help. Good Night.

#this was supposed to be a drabble #excerpts of stories #excerpt of a story #this was also supposed to be fanfiction #bad writiting #jesus my grammar lord help me

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crasherfly · 3 years

Text

Weekly Update

It’s never enough.

Be it progress in a hobby, pages written, reps in a workout, miles run, dollars spent at local businesses, weight lost and gained back, video games completed or personal apologies issued to people I’ve been too brisk with online- the prevailing theme of 2020 has been IT’S NOT ENOUGH.

This is, on its face, ridiculous. We are in a pandemic. Whatever reservations you might have about the virus, the fact is economically, we will be in dire straits for some time. Surviving should be enough. Thriving should be considered a rare bonus.

Even so, this December, I’ve struggled a great deal with feeling like I’m bringing “enough” to the table in anything I do. If I play a video game, I lament that I’m not good enough at it. If I write, I mourn the words that go unwritten. In my friendships, I fixate on small arguments that I drew myself into, or a harsh word I shouldn’t have said, worried over their long-term impact. There’s a dozen anime shows I haven’t finished. I have a script that needs pages, an end of year anime blog that needs writing. I keep skipping meditation sessions and forgetting to brush my teeth. The NBA season starts tomorrow- will I watch it to have something to talk to other folks about, or will I settle into something easier to fill the time?

Time.

I have nothing but time. I’m off until January 5th. I’ve had more time off this entire year than I’ve had any year since college. I tell myself this means I should be doing something remarkable, and yet, with more and more time off, I find I’m just doing the same things I would normally do- just in bigger quantity.

My therapist tells me it’s cuz I grew up in a home where praise was hard won- if ever given. Growing up with this deficit, it is only natural that I’d rarely feel like anything is “enough”- and blame myself when I feel lacking.

We’re still working on a solution for it.

I do know there are Good Things that I have accomplished this year. I made new friends. I became more knowledgeable about my hobbies. I picked up some new healthy habits- running, kettlebells, core workouts. I lost a little weight. I disconnected from the violently angry media sources that had wormed their way into my brain since my Gawker days. I got out of a little debt. I developed a more positive relationship with alcohol. I got to therapy. I’m becoming more comfortable with speaking truth to how I feel, instead of burying my feelings.

I still fail in many things. I have a laundry list of moments I failed this week to review with my therapist. I’m still not in a place where I can be a functional adult while also working a full time job. I have lost friends this year because I am a hard person to endure. I have had to issue more apologies this year than perhaps in any year prior. And the people who know me best would still point out, rightly, that I sound like a very different person in online public spaces than I do privately.

As 2020 comes to a close, I’m thinking about the theme I want to bring into 2021- and my 32nd year on this globe. And I think the theme I want to embrace is vulnerability, which is, ironically, the theme I struggle the most with in my personal life. I am, by nature, a secretive person- reclusive, even. Without getting into a whole Thing here, I would just say “meet my parents” and you’d get why. This shit’s been wired into me.

But as I look back on many of my issues the past year- my breakowns and spirals, the arguments, the friends lost and stresses placed on my loved ones- so much could have been avoided if I was willing to just explain what was going on in my life.

I don’t mean the long stylized depression posts I was doing back in August. Those are helpful to a point, but they don’t actually drive toward a conclusion. I mean talking about how I feel in plain terms, and explaining the pressures that lead to those feelings.

‘Cuz I think we can all agree that after almost a full year of relating to each other almost exclusively through cynical tweets and mirthless retweets that we as humans are desperately deficient in nuance- an ingredient essential to understanding each other in actual human contexts. And the only way for nuance to be understood is to speak plainly and directly to one another.

I’m going to try and do more of that in 2021. Here’s hoping the results are good.

So lets talk some vidya games and anime, yeah?

Vidya Games

BlazBlue: Centralfiction and BlazBlue: Cross Tag Battle (SWITCH)

Arc Systems was having a switch sale. I’d enjoyed my time with Guilty Gear and noticed the BlazBlue series was relatively cheap, so I picked them up. I’d seen some of the fighters on Spriteclub before, so I was excited to expand my fighting game knowledge a bit further.

BlazBlue is a 2d fighting game that uses drawn sprite fighters. The effect is a beautiful anime more reminiscent of Street Fighter or King of Fighters, but with modern mechanics that make them feel more approachable. The rosters are huge and the individual fighters varied. There’s a full “episodes” mode, as well as plenty of options for training and tutorials.

Of the two games, Cross Tag seems like the easier to pick up. I’m a sucker for tag systems so that one is an easier sell for me. It’s also fun to see the crew from Persona 4 on the roster, not to mention RWBY.

Centralfiction seems to be more mechanics focused, but also includes a “stylish” mode that plays like Capcom Vs. SNK 2′s EO mode, where supers and command list moves are tied to single buttons instead of complex commands, allowing you to see everything a character can do without being stuck in hours of practice. I’m still trying to learn those damn quarter circle moves, but it’s a nice fallback option for moments where I’m not looking to exhaust my brain and thumbs.

Mario Maker 2 (SWITCH)

I’ve built three levels in the last week for Super Mario Maker 2. One I built during a work meeting, the other two I did as morning exercises over coffee. They’ve all been moderately played since and feature clear rates over 25%, so I’ll consider them a success.

I’ve uploaded over 40 courses to SMM2 since its release. That’s far more than I ever uploaded with the first game. I think Nintendo missed some big opportunities to make this game a centerpiece for the Switch. I also think the diehard fans got in their own way (designing courses on your tv is honestly not that hard- in fact, I prefer it to the portable option now). But overall, I do think that SMM2 is a success- at least for casual fans like me who value standard level design and ease of access.

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

My gaming has been somewhat hampered by the sudden implosion of my Samsung television, which houses my XBONE and Switch. About a week ago it shut down and began to flicker on and off. I unplugged it overnight and powered it on the next day to find a long black horizontal line across the panel and discoloration beneath the line. A call in to Samsung confirmed my fears- it was a wire defect and would require extensive service work. Because of the pandemic, it would take at least a few weeks before the part could make it.

The TV is still usable, so that’s a relief. I’m not dwelling on it much. Samsung was easy to deal with and they’ve promised this will come at no cost to me. There are many worse things happening in the world, so this is an easy thing to let roll off my shoulders now that I know what the solution is.

I also MIGHT have a Series X. Key word is MIGHT because I technically got my order in on the 18th, but Gamestop has yet to actually send a confirmation e-mail. However my order number appears valid and does pull up a processing page on their site, so I’m going to hang tight. I ended up pulling the trigger on a massive bundle that includes a very expensive headset and a second controller...as well as a copy of Assassin’s Creed. I can’t emphasize enough how NOT the primary audience I am for AC. However, I doubt I could pay anyone to take it off my hands at this point...so...whatever. At least there’s a chance I’ll have the new system.

My final bit of news on the technical front- I returned Cyberpunk 2077. I have zero regrets. Microsoft processed my refund in about 15 minutes without issue. I was on XBONE and yes, I tried the 1.4 update. Frankly, the update did seem to improve matters, but not so much as to be a game changer. And as I wrestled with the conundrum of powering through, or shelving the game in hopes of a future update that would magically fix everything, I finally opted to take the third option- and get off this damn train at the first possible stop. I will play Cyberpunk 2077 someday. Hopefully, when that day comes, this whole mess will be somewhat resolved.

ANIME

Jujutsu Kaisen

Season 1 has officially earned a “this show is straight fire” tweet from me. It’s just so good. The fights are thrilling. The emotional investment is real. The cast is outstanding. The design is imaginative, moody and the prettiest direction to behold this side of Fire Force.

Do yourself a favor and give this show a shot. It’s my top recommendation for the winter.

No Guns Life

I’ve almost wrapped the first half of season 1. This lovely noir continues to impress as its world unfolds. It is sure to please those itching for a cyberpunk or technoir story. The overall story still feels a bit unfocused, but I’m not minding too much. No Guns Life is one of those worlds that’s just a joy to be a part of, even when we’re unsure what its driving at.

END OF YEAR LISTS

Tis the season for LISTS. Oh man, so many lists.

I’ll be focusing my 2020 end of year stuff on anime and video games this year, because of course. I’ll also talk a little about media I’ve been enjoying. It’ll be a whole THING, either here or on wordpress.

But here’s a quick preview for those who are a bit curious about what titles I’ll be visiting for my Top Experiences list. Bear in mind that these are not confined to 2020 releases- this is purely about what I as a person dabbled in this year. Here’s what you can expect me to touch on in my end of year post :)

Games

Crusader Kings III Call of Duty: Warzone Yakuza 0 The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel Fighting Games (genre) Consoles Oculus Quest 2 NEO-GEO Arcade Stick Pro Anime

Re:Zero - Starting Life in Another World Gleipnir Jujutsu Kaisen No Guns Life Kaguya-sama: Love is War DECA-DENCE Tower of God

Manga

Berserk Fruits Basket

Tabletop

Dungeons and Dragons 5E: The Lost Mines of Phandelver/Ghosts of Saltmarsh

Streaming

Spriteclub Gawr Gura/Hololive WWE Network

Lifestyle

Kotatsus Sake

Music

Nightcore (genre) Personal Projects Alice and the Pale Horse (script) Legos (various sets) Like I said, this is gonna be a big ol’ THING. But I can’t wait to share it with you all :D

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