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bibliophilea · 3 years

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The End - Ch. 1

Happy Holiday Truce, @mystyrust! Sorry to make you wait - I wanted to do something big, but I forgot to take into account two things: I am a slow writer, and this story became too big to handle as a oneshot. I do have big ideas for where I want this story to go, but we'll see how the story builds itself as I write! Happy Holidays!

If elements of this story seem familiar, that’s because they are! This is based on @lexosaurus‘s tags on @dannys-phucking-dead‘s post! I hope you enjoy!

ffn | ao3

>1< 2 3 4 ...

"Listen. I've met a lot of great asteroids. Really fantastic asteroids. And they've all told me themselves — they said that I was a great president. All of them said that — all one hundred thousand asteroids. I was there."

The camera switches to Tiffany Snow, sitting at the anchor desk.

"This is what President Drumpf had to say yesterday regarding NASA's claims that an unforeseen asteroid is approximately 21 days from hitting the Earth, creating an extinction-level event on par with what took out the dinosaurs," Snow states with a cheerful smile. "Polls suggest that approximately 48.2% of the population believe NASA's claims to be a hoax; 29.5% believe it's the end of the world; and 22.3% is undecided. Lance, can you tell us a bit about Amity Park's response to NASA's claims?"

The camera switches to a street view outside of Amity Park's capitol building. People crowd the streets, many of them yelling and holding signs. Some signs read "THE END IS NIGH". Others say "ASTEROID SHMASTEROID". A few say "DEFUND NASA". One sign says "[citation needed]".

"Certainly, Tiffany," Lance Thunder replies, nearly shouting over the crowd. "As you can see here, tensions are high in Amity Park. Citizens gather to make their voices heard amidst NASA's claims of doom and gloom. Hey, Bob, what do you think of NASA's statement?"

Thunder turns to a middle aged man beside him wearing a bright red cap. The man bends to put his face by the microphone Thunder is brandishing.

"It's fake news, is what it is! I mean, come on! How does a freaking asteroid come out of nowhere? It's a China conspiracy, I tell you!"

Bob nods, and Thunder takes back the microphone. "Well, you heard it here, folks. Amity Park's citizens think NASA's claims are a ho—"

"THE END IS NIGH!"

A woman wearing a sign with the same message butts in, snatching the microphone from Thunder.

"The Disasteroid cometh for us all! Soon it will be Judgement Day and all of you Non Believers will be found Wanting!"

Thunder squawks. "Hey! That is APN property! Give that back!"

The camera turns to focus on Thunder and the woman as they fight over the microphone, their squabbling barely audible over the feedback. Then the feed cuts back to Tiffany Snow.

"Wow Lance, looks like no one can break Amity Park's spirit," Snow says with a grin. "In other news, Congress has voted to defund NASA—"

The TV clicks off.

Danny carefully puts down the remote before he allows himself to shake. His fists clench, and he hides them under folded arms, lest they be seen bursting into ectoplasmic flame. His face feels taut, teeth clenched, eyes abnormally dry. Toxic green edges his vision, and he clamps his eyes shut, lest they be seen glowing green with his anger.

And oh, he is angry.

NASA is a world leader in space aviation and exploration, and Congress is defunding them. And for what? Because they told the truth? Because there's a humongous asteroid about to hit the Earth? They should be funneling emergency money towards NASA, not taking money away! The world needs NASA, now more than ever! Danny has seen the images NASA shared — the images the media doesn't dare share, lest the wrath of one President Drumpf befall them. He doesn't know how everyone missed it — it's huge and it's glowing green and no stars glow green like that — but now that everyone knows about it, there should be some sort of plan to stop it, right? Wrong! The president says it's fake news, and Congress follows suit, and the biggest space programs in the world can't agree on what to do about it when half the world doesn't even think it's real and oh god we're gonna die like actually 100% die and it's not ghosts it's not Pariah Dark it's a big fucking SPACE ROCK that's going to do us in for good and there'll be no more habitable Earth and no more Ghost Zone and we're all going to DIE—

A hand touches Danny's knee, and he gasps, eyes flying open, cringing away from the contact.

Through the green haze in his vision he sees bright orange and immediately shuts his eyes again. They can't see, can't see him freak out, can't see his powers freak out with him—

The hand touches his knee again, and he freezes at the touch, body tense, teeth clenched, eyes shut tight. Another hand touches his arm and he takes in a breath, shuddering as the hand slowly moves to his shoulder, and then to his back, rubbing large, soothing circles. Danny tries to time his breathing to the circles, like Jazz had taught him to, and slowly the blood rushing in his ears (when had that happened?) quiets to a dull roar.

"There we go Danny, see, just breathe. You're okay. You're at home, and Mom and Dad are out, and you don't have to hide."

Danny uncurls slightly at the sound of his sister's voice. He opens his eyes a crack — just enough to see past the green haze — and really looks this time. The orange isn't the same shade as his dad's jumpsuit — it's a lighter, more natural color, and it surrounds a face with concerned, green eyes. Jazz. Jazz is here, and she has her hand on his knee, and she's rubbing circles into his back, and he's kind of sort of getting the hang of breathing with the rhythm of those circles. He leans into her, and she bundles him into a hug, still rubbing circles into his back.

The front door opens, and Danny and Jazz both freeze. Jazz said Mom and Dad are out, but what if they're back? They can't see him like this, they'll find out!

Danny has half a mind to just turn invisible when their voices hit his ears.

"Man, dude, did you see what Congress did to NASA? That's so unfair!"

"It's totally unfair! They're just telling the truth! This whole administration is the absolute worst!"

Tucker. Sam. Danny relaxes slightly at their voices, but he doesn't turn around — doesn't want them to see him like this, either.

But it's too late.

"Woah, dude, you okay?"

"Danny!"

He hears them rush over to him — feels their worry and the warmth of their bodies as they get close — and tenses up again. He should be better than this, stronger than this! He shouldn't be freaking out about some dumb news report.

Not just a dumb news report, his brain helpfully supplies. We're all going to die. And there's nothing you can do about it.

All of a sudden, Jazz's embrace feels too tight. To constraining. Trapping him where he is.

He slips intangible and flees from Jazz, flees from his friends — flees upwards, up through the ceiling and through the roof and through the Ops Center, flees until there's no more house to flee from. He lands hard on the roof of the Ops Center, scraping his knees but it doesn't matter, hands scorching the metal but who cares, it's just the end of the world—

He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his head in them, his face screwing as he tries to get a hold of himself, tries to rein himself in, it's just the end of the world, just the end of Mom and Dad and Jazz and Sam and Tucker and school and movies and parks and people and everything and everyone he'd ever tried to protect—

"Bite this."

Danny feels something cool touch his lips, and he bites down — then coughs and spits as bitter rind and sour citrus burst in his mouth.

He looks up to see Tucker triumphantly brandishing a whole lemon with a chunk bitten out of it. Sam and Jazz stand to either side of him, varying levels of worry and amusement fighting for dominance in their faces. Danny spits again, and stares at the bits of rind and lemon pulp that vacate his mouth.

"What the hell?"

"Told you it'd work!" Tucker crows.

"A lemon?" Danny splutters.

"It's an... unorthodox grounding technique," Jazz responds, "and it normally isn't administered like that—"

"Point is, it works," Sam interjects. "How're you feeling?"

Danny stares at the three of them for a moment. Then he sighs and chuckles darkly. "The worlds going to end because too many people don't believe NASA about an asteroid hurtling towards Earth, and Tucker made me bite into a lemon. How am I supposed to feel?"

He sighs again, long, hard, and shuddering, and he lets himself fall backwards onto the warm metal of the Ops Center roof. Jazz lies down across from him, and Sam and Tucker lie to either side of him, all their heads nearly touching. The sky above them is bright blue, clear of clouds. Birds flit across Danny's vision, twittering as they chase each other before flying off to who knows where. Does it even matter? They'll all be dead in a few weeks.

"I don't want to die again."

The words slip from his mouth, and he feels his breath hitch, watches as his vision goes blurry. His hands begin to clench into fists — but then Sam and Tucker take his hands, massaging the tension from his fingers and palms, and Jazz runs her hand through his hair like she used to do when they were kids and he'd had a nightmare, and something in him breaks.

A sob wrenches itself from his throat, and he curls in on himself. His sister and friends move to hold him close, and he can't help but lean into their touch. They hold him as his eyes glow green, as his hands fist into the metal of the roof, as his sobs take on a ghostly tinge, nearly wailing his grief and his anger and his fear into the sky. He shudders as he cries, and feels as they shudder with him — feels as Sam and Tucker push their faces into his shirt, and as Jazz buries her face in his hair — feels as his shirt and his head where their faces lie become damp.

Crying. They're crying.

And it's his fault.

A wave of guilt washes over him, and he wants to pull away again, wants to force himself to stop crying, to be strong for them. But their grips on him tighten, and they speak to him, words warped by their own tears. "Just let it out," Tucker mutters into his back. "It's okay to cry," Sam whispers into his shoulder. "You don't have to hide," Jazz repeats into his hair.

But beneath their words, beneath their tight hold on him and the way they push their faces against him is a hidden plea: "Stay," they say.

Please stay.

So Danny stays.

Danny stays, and they cry together, and the sun shines down upon them from the clear blue sky.

*~*~*

Danny doesn't know how long it's been. Only that he's no longer crying, and that his friends and sister are no longer crying. They've melted into a cuddle pile of four, with Danny at the center, and the sun beats down on them from a different angle than before. Danny has wound up with his head in Jazz's lap, and she's playing with his hair. Sam and Tucker are on top of him, still holding his hands. Their weight is comforting.

Danny is exhausted. He just wants to fall asleep and deal with everything later. Crying in front of your friends and sister will do that, his brain helpfully supplies. So will the end of the world.

He sighs heavily and moves to sit up. Sam and Tucker get off him, still holding his hands, and Jazz helps him up, moving from playing with his hair to rubbing circles on his back. He smiles faintly at all of them.

"Thanks, guys," he whispers hoarsely. He really does have the best friends and best sister in the world.

Too bad they're all going to die in three weeks.

He frowns and sighs again, too tired to cry.

"It's heavy stuff, huh," Jazz says gently. Danny looks back at her, an eyebrow raised. She continues. "The thought of everything ending like that — it's really hard to think about. Hell, I'm having trouble processing it." She smiles gently at him. "It's okay to be scared and angry, and it's okay to be scared and angry in front of us. You don't have to hide."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Danny mutters. "No more running away."

"Good," Sam remarks. "Now, what are we going to do about everything?"

"What do you mean?" Danny asks.

"You know. The asteroid?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. That." Danny frowns down at the roof of the Ops Center. The metal is warped and singed where his hands had dug into it. "What are we supposed to do about that?" He looks back up at Sam. Her eyes bear into his, and her grip on his hand tightens.

"Look, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me, too. But we can't just sit here and do nothing."

Danny frowns at her. He opens his mouth to respond, but Tucker gets there first.

"Look, I know we need to have this conversation, I really do. But can we have it inside? The metal's starting to get really hot." Tucker stands up, rubbing his free hand on his jeans from touching the roof.

Danny sighs and stands up, stretching the kinks from his back. Sam and Jazz stand up with him.

"On it," Danny says. "Everyone hold tight."

He feels Sam's and Tucker's grips tighten on his hands, and he feels Jazz grab his shoulder. With a poke at his core, he tugs them all intangible, slipping through the roof to the refreshingly cool interior of the Ops Center. He lets go of intangibility and lets gravity embrace them slowly, gently depositing them all on the floor of the Ops Center. Then he lets go of his friends' hands and steps forwards, turning so he's facing the three of them.

"So, what are we supposed to do, huh? Half the world thinks the asteroid's a hoax, and the other half either doesn't have the money to do anything, or is stuck in petty arguments about what to do and who's to blame and all that shit." Danny crosses his arms and frowns.

"Dude, you're the Ghost King," Tucker's quick to reply. "Doesn't that mean you can, like, do anything?"

Danny facepalms. "Oh my god, Tucker, I'm not the Ghost King. I told the Observants I don't want any part of it. And besides, even if I were, who's going to listen to me? Klemper? The Box Ghost? I'm sure they can convince the world to get its shit together!"

"Hey!" Sam interjects. "You can't just focus on what we can't do. We need to focus on what we can do, as a team."

"Oh, and what can we do, Sam? We're way out of our depth here! The four of us can't stop the asteroid from hitting Earth!"

"You're right, Danny," Jazz says. Sam and Tucker gape at her.

"But dude—"

"You can't just—"

"Hey, let me speak!" Jazz waits until Sam and Tucker close their mouths — Tucker with a perplexed look on his face, Sam with an expectant frown.

"We are out of our depth," Jazz states. "We don't have the resources or political pull here on Earth or in the Ghost Zone to make a significant difference." She pauses. "But we know someone who does."

It takes a moment, but Sam gets it first.

"Oh, ew, we are not asking him for help!"

"Wait." Tucker says. "Asking who for—" horror dawns on his face. "Oh, no. No no no. We can't! Why would you even think of that?"

"Think of what?" Danny asks, a little annoyed that he doesn't get it.

"Asking Vlad," Sam, Tucker, and Jazz reply.

"Oh, ew!" Danny says automatically.

Jazz rolls her eyes. "It's not like I want to talk to him either! I just think given the circumstances, we don't have much choice."

"There's always a choice, Jazz," Sam retorts. "He'll probably try and force Danny to stay with him in exchange for his help."

"Yeah, Jazz," Tucker adds. "He's a slimeball. Who knows how he'll try to play this to his advantage."

"But—"

"I think Jazz is right," Danny says.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz stare at Danny, flabbergasted. Danny blushes.

"Well, it's like Jazz said — I don't want to, but I don't think we have a choice. We need his help. And besides," he says with a smirk, "the man is way too narcissistic. He doesn't want to die because half the world doesn't believe what's right in front of their faces."

"And we can use that to our advantage," Jazz adds. "He knows he'll need help with whatever scheme he's plotting, and there isn't enough time for him to be picky."

"So, what? We go to him for help, and threaten to walk if he tries to pull anything?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly." Jazz and Danny grin at each other.

Tucker sighs and pulls out his PDA. "Alright, fine. One meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop coming right up."

Danny stares. "Dude, what are you doing?"

Tucker looks up. "Um, scheduling a meeting with our evil mayor?"

Sam shakes her head. "He's probably booked. We'll have better luck if we just show up."

Jazz nods. "He's probably expecting us anyways."

Tucker sighs and puts away his PDA. "Alright, fine. But can we take a moment to clean up? I don't know about you guys, but my face is crusty."

Danny looks at his friends and sister. Their hair is a mess, and their eyes are still rimmed red. Sam's mascara has dried after running down her face, and Tucker's glasses and Jazz's headband are askew. Danny figures he doesn't look much better.

He nods. "Alright. But after that, we have a meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop!"

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freebooter4ever · 4 years

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Ice Cream And An Apology

Eugene drags his bff Snafu on a vacation to Los Angeles six years after Snafu left him on that train. They end up on Santa Monica beach where they finally admit they might be in love, and it might've been brewing for a long while, and wow are they clueless sometimes. Ace Eugene and Snaf, written for @skelesocks who makes the best Ace Eugene content around, thank you! And who was sad that I made Eugene cry, so here is me making him feel better through Snafu. (their vacation date includes a tiki hut, ice cream, swing dancing, secret cliffside hotels)(I took all the parts I do like about living in LA and put them here)(the ballroom existed but it's torn down now, the hotel is a real place I stumbled on while hiking way too far down the beach but it's actually a 1930's pool building called Palos Verdes Athletic Club)(with bonus historical photos cause I'm a fucking nerd)

Two years into grad school Eugene decides he needs a proper vacation. The only reason Snafu knows this is because Eugene also decides Snafu is the person he's gonna vacation with. And apparently Snafu has no say in this decision.

A very curt letter arrives one spring afternoon with a time, a date, and the address of the New Orleans railroad station, as if Snafu needed to be told where that is. Granted, Snafu's track record in being responsive and easy to reach is perhaps not the best, but Gene's known that for years. Snafu doesn't know what's changed with this particular meet up.

He's also a little resentful of the fact that Eugene thinks he can snap his fingers and Snafu will drop everything on a dime and come running. Mostly Snafu resents this on account of how true it is. Six years after the war and Snafu still can't let go.

So Snafu shows up at the train station, right on time, with his duffel packed tight, and his hat a little jaunty.

Eugene steps off the train with his ticket book in hand. He looks right and left, like he can't see Snafu standing a mere three feet in front of him. It must be the hat.

"You lost, Sledgehammer?" Snafu asks.

Eugene's eyes finally find his. Snafu's heart drops out of his chest, and he suddenly remembers why he made his original vow years ago to walk away and never see anybody again.

"Shelton?" Eugene asks, like he can't quite believe his eyes, and the formality stings.

"Miss me?" Snafu smirks.

Eugene doesn't answer. He simply walks up to Snafu, shoulder's Snafu's bag, and climbs back onto the train.

Snafu follows - like fucking always.

Eugene shoves Snafu's duffel into the luggage racks already almost stacked full, and guides Snafu to a private compartment.

Snafu glances admiringly at the plush seats and curtained windows, and whistles, "Adjunct professors must make quite a bit of money these days."

"I'm paying both your way and my way on this trip, so...yes," Eugene says, and Snafu knows it's non negotiable. No matter how many times Snafu offers, Eugene never accepts repayment.

"The truth is…" Eugene says that night after they've converted their plush seats into a bed, "...not making much money doesn't matter so much when you don't use it. I don't go out, I don't do anything, my parents pay my rent. What else am I going to spend it on?"

Snafu shrugs. A lot of things pop into his mind, but it's true Eugene never goes out so Snafu doesn't want to discourage this change. Eugene is the most boring college student ever. Snafu knows because he makes the drive from New Orleans to Auburn every weekend. And every weekend is the same, they spend most of the time lying around Sledge's dorm - Eugene studying and Snafu reading his latest murder mystery novel.

He supposes the sacrifice of Eugene's social life might have been worth it, though, if it meant being able to pay for the sleeper car. Because that night on the train when Eugene wakes Snafu with a yell, there are no prying eyes to judge them. Snafu wraps his arms around Eugene's shoulders in the privacy of their bunk and holds him till he calms down.

Sometimes Snafu wonders who does this for Eugene during the week, on the nights Snafu's not there.

"I just don't sleep those nights," Eugene whispers in the dark, his voice barely audible over the clacking of the train tracks.

Snafu squeezes him tighter. Eugene's back is pressed against Snafu's chest, and Snafu's nose is in Eugene's hair. And sometimes Snafu worries he might be crazy, but he also swears that the smell of Eugene's neck is the only thing capable of stopping Snafu's own nerves from jumping out of his skin. He'll never admit to Eugene how selfish he is. That Snafu doesn't keep dropping everything to run to his side out of some altruistic need to please. No.

Snafu's fucking addicted to the boy in his arms and he can't let go. No matter how much it hurts.

Plus they aren't boys anymore. Eugene is twenty eight, and Snafu is thirty, and he keeps waiting and waiting for Eugene to grow up and leave him behind but it hasn't happened yet.

It takes four days for the train to reach Los Angeles. It's hot - so fucking hot, Snafu wonders why Eugene picked summer of all times to vacation here, but the dry wind and brilliant blue sky is still a relief compared to the sticky humidity of home. He can kinda see why people come out here, even if the baking sun also makes him feel a little like a raisin.

Eugene rents a car. An unnecessary expense in Snafu's mind. The car even has a swamp cooler, which at first Snafu decries as the most absurd waste of cash. But then he presses his face to the passenger window to watch the rocket-like thing work. And sure, he can't feel the wind on his face anymore, but damn if the air in the car doesn't become more bearable faster.

Eugene watches Snafu and just smiles.

The outside heat cools off the closer they get to the coast. Snafu has no idea where Eugene is taking them. Perhaps that's why Eugene invites him everywhere, because he never asks questions. Honestly Eugene could take him anywhere in the world and it'd still be something, simply because it's with Eugene. Except caves. Snafu doesn't mess with caves.

They park in a giant lot, and when Snafu opens the car door he hears the familiar sound of gulls and the ocean. All around his head, though, are two story buildings - not a horizon line in sight. They must still be in the city. But then they turn a corner, walk two blocks down the street, and there it is: the Santa Monica pier.

The hippodrome catches the eye first. Then Snafu sees the long line stretching down a checkerboard walkway. The crowd of people ends at the mirrored doors and box office of the Aragon Ballroom. Something must be happening for it to be so busy in the middle of a random saturday. The crowd is young too, mostly teenagers. Snafu feels old, looking at them.

Snafu stares at the ballroom for a minute and then leers at Eugene. "You taking me dancing?" He asks.

"No," Eugene says, "I don't dance." He turns away from the gigantic world famous dancehall hanging over the ocean on spindly legs, and starts walking down the boardwalk.

Snafu hurries to catch up.

They clamber down tall wooden steps to get to the beach. Snafu touches one and ends up with a splinter in his hand, naturally. He's too busy trying to pick the damn thing out of his finger to notice when Eugene stops. Snafu collides with his back.

Eugene balances precariously at the edge of the bottom step, leaving only a little room for Snafu to squish in behind him. Snafu leans his chin on Eugene's shoulder and tries to figure out what is on the ground that Eugene's so intently marveling at.

"Gene?" Snafu slips his arm underneath Eugene's elbow and wiggles his hand in front of Eugene's face, "Your pa's the doctor."

"What?" Eugene asks in confusion as if brought out of a trance.

"Splinter," Snafu explains.

Eugene very carefully pries the long skinny splinter out of Snafu's finger. And then he goes back to staring down at his feet.

"What are we waiting for?" Snafu asks. He places his hands on either side of Eugene's hips and tries to remain patient.

"An engraved invitation," Eugene intones. He bends over to untie his Chuck Taylors and pull them off.

"That's just asking for splinters," Snafu points out when Eugene's socks come off next.

Eugene leaves his socks neatly tucked into his shoes on the wooden plank and steps into the sand.

Snafu, being more familiar with thievery, hastily threads the shoelaces through his own belt loop and then ties Eugene's two shoes together to hang off his hip. His own shoes stay on as he traipses after Eugene. Snafu's had enough sand between his toes to last him a lifetime.

It doesn't take long to catch up to Eugene. When Snafu reaches him, Eugene is breathing shallowly and clenching his fists, staring at the rolling ocean waves and the handful of beachgoers. To the casual observer, Eugene would appear to be enjoying the view, but Snafu sees the tension. Snafu sidles up to Eugene and leans against his shoulder.

"I thought it would feel different," Eugene says. His voice is calm, he looks calm, but he's anything but. Snafu knows the feeling all too well.

"C'mon," Snafu slips his hand into Eugene's and tugs him away from the shore, "Let's get off the sand."

They make it back to the boardwalk and Snafu gives Eugene back his shoes.

Eugene smiles at him gratefully, and that grin with those eyes is precisely the reason Snafu's always here. And in this case 'here' means 'by Eugene's side come hell or high water.'

Eugene smiles, and Snafu shrugs it off, and lets Eugene use his shoulder to steady himself while he puts his shoes back on one-handed. Those smiles make Snafu want to kiss them off Eugene's face to get rid of them. They're altogether too kind, altogether too caring, and it just worsens the already deep hole Snafu's dug himself.

They walk down the boardwalk for a short distance, eyeing the push carts, and the souvenir stalls, and the hot dog stands that look suspiciously crusty.

"Those aren't for you," Snafu says, pushing Eugene along by the small of his back when the boy lingers a little too long in front of a cheesy sign with a cartoon corn dog dancing on a stick. The dog has eyes, and looks way too happy about being eaten.

"What, why not?" Eugene asks.

"They're un-hi-Gene-ic," Snafu drawls.

"Oh god," Eugene casts his eyes to the sky.

"It's in the name, no Gene's allowed," Snafu adds.

"I got the joke, Snafu," Eugene says.

The next food stand they come to is a tiki hut. There's no other way to describe it. It's the tackiest thing Snafu's ever seen. Snafu hears about the 'tiki' craze sweeping the nation after all the boys came home from the south pacific. He sees advertisements using the motifs in the magazines at the mechanic shop he works for.

The tiki design is always heavily stylized, and completely fake, and so fucking ugly it makes Snafu's eyes hurt.

He turns to Eugene, and their eyes meet. There's a rush of shared knowing between them, it sends Snafu tingling down to his toes, and a genuine smile breaks out onto his face, and before he knows it they're both laughing. They lean against each other, giggling helplessly at this silly simulacrum of the islands they were trapped on for so long.

"Four nights on a train for this, Gene?" Snafu teases.

Eugene slings an arm around Snafu's waist to steady him and, still laughing, they wobble over to peer at the menu tacked against the entrance to the hut.

"Coconut ice cream," Snafu reads with exaggerated admiration.

Eugene shudders violently, and Snafu can feel it through his body. "I can't stand the smell of coconut," Eugene whines, "All those coconuts on Pavuvu, buried in the sand, rotting with that inescapable stench."

Snafu shakes his head, "You're missing out."

"Nope," Eugene insists and breaks away from Snafu, "We're not eating here. I would rather eat the No-Gene's-Allowed dancing corn dog."

"I bet by the end of this trip I'll get you eating coconut ice cream," Snafu calls.

"Not happening," Eugene calls back, making his point by already walking away.

Snafu eyes the coconut tiki shack, eyes Gene, and starts plotting.

Blissfully ignorant, and completely confident in his ability to talk Snafu into or out of anything, Eugene continues down the boardwalk.

Meanwhile, Snafu's attention is captured next by the neat row of bicycles at the very end of the small line of makeshift booths. The bicycles are clean, and shiny, with pastel baskets and sparkling handlebar bells, and colorful seats with clean, bright stitching. The kind of bicycles Snafu dreamed of when he was a kid. He slows to a crawl as they pass by and eventually stops, unable to resist going over and putting his hands on one.

Snafu rings the bell and chuckles.

He glances up and Eugene is smiling at him again in that overly fond way that says Snafu could probably get away with practically anything right now.

So, they end up renting two bikes. Snafu's is a mint blue with a grey basket. He pulls his shoes off and drops them into said basket to ride barefoot. The spikey plastic pedals feel hot and firm underneath Snafu's feet. Eugene's bike is a reddish salmon color with a burnt orange basket that when combined with the sun glinting off Eugene's red hair, makes him strike a truly imposing figure.

Snafu laughs about this for at least five minutes straight before they get on their way. He wishes he brought a camera. There's one slung around Eugene's neck, but Eugene blushes and refuses Snafu's request to use it.

"If I can't take embarrassing photos of you with it, what's the point of even having it?" Snafu demands.

Eugene still refuses.

Snafu sticks his tongue out at Eugene and takes the lead on the bicycles. It's incredibly easy to ride along the flat beach. The path isn't paved, and is a little rough, but half the time Snafu is standing on his pedals as he rides, so he hardly notices. Occasionally he looks back to make sure Gene is keeping up.

The only time he loses track of Eugene is when they're pedaling through a dilapidated old pier. Snafu banks a slight curve and notices Eugene isn't appearing around the shops and buildings behind him. He circles back around to find Eugene stopped and straddling his bicycle, looking towards the ocean.

Snafu pulls up alongside him and eyes him quizzically.

"It's two men…" Eugene nods at a couple making out on a beach blanket in the distance, "I saw them walking out there. The one with long hair isn't a girl, he's a guy."

Snafu looks at the couple passionately embracing, and then at Eugene's expression. "Shocking," Snafu says sarcastically, "Scandalous."

"You don't seem surprised," Eugene says.

"I live in New Orleans," Snafu replies, "Not all of us spent most our lives in hicktown Alabama."

"Mobile is not a hicktown," Eugene scowls.

"Stop staring at them, Gene," Snafu warns and nods at the couple, "They might give you a show." He rides off, this time determined to leave Eugene in the dust.

Snafu keeps going on his bicycle for a few hours. They're forced to make a brief detour around a marina, but they end up back on an oceanfront path, and continue on pedaling until suddenly the beach abruptly ends. The sand narrows off into rocks, and rising high above them are towering cliffs.

Eugene coasts to a stop next to Snafu and puts his foot down to rest. He's breathing hard. All that studying and not enough manual labor.

"Guess we're continuing on foot from here," Snafu suggests casually.

Eugene huffs in disbelief, "You're joking."

"Four nights on a train…" Snafu smirks, "I ain't stopping yet."

They bring the bikes back to the nearest beach facilities and lock them up in a rack, then set off across the rocks. At first it's fairly easy, there is a dirt path running directly beneath the cliff face but slightly above the worst of the jagged rocky beach. They've climbed over much worse during the war.

Eugene is an unenthusiastic hiking partner, however. They pass by a beautiful stucco building nestled into the cliffs with a high wall and flanked by old fashioned lamps. Eugene stares longingly at the NCAA sized swimming pool behind the wall.

"Later," Snafu promises him, and leads him on.

The rocks turn a little more treacherous past the wall, and eventually it gets to the point that even Snafu is carefully picking his way across rock by rock. He climbs hand and foot up to the base of the cliff and expertly assesses the narrow ledge leading across a plunging chut to the next rocky beach. The chute is roughly four feet long and ends in churning water. The waves are coming in, crashing against the rocks and zipping up the chute to lap at the ledge. Snafu puts one shoe on the ledge and wiggles it around to test his grip.

"Snaf," Eugene pleads from the rocks below, "I can't…"

Snafu stares down at him unblinkingly. And then turns and starts to walk carefully across the ledge. He makes it to the other side and leaps over the rocky outcrop.

"Merriell!" Eugene cries.

Snafu can no longer see him. After vaulting the end of the ledge he lands on another rocky beach, and in the distance he sees another point where the rocks give way to cliffs. Snafu clambers on tirelessly, but the path soon becomes all but impassable. He's reached the farthest point he can go. Eventually he gives up and turns around.

He climbs back onto the taller rock sticking out from the ledge and sits down on the top to watch the waves break against the rock's front edge. Below him and across the chasm, Eugene sits huddled on his own rock, intently watching the waves. Eugene ignores Snafu's return.

"Eugene?" Snafu calls softly.

Eugene's head jerks up and he looks at Snafu with a painful mixture of worry and anger. "What the hell, Snafu?" Eugene yells, "You jump over the other side and don't answer me for a half hour? I had no way of knowing if you slipped, or fell, or hit your head, or drowned…" Eugene's voice wavers.

"You could'a followed," Snafu argues.

"I cannot cross that ledge," Eugene snaps back, "Not all of us have your super human climbing abilities. You shouldn't go on alone...what if you ended up in the water?"

"Gene, I'm a good swimmer," Snafu says dismissively.

Eugene shakes his head at him in exasperation. "Fuck you, Shelton," he says, and he clearly means it. He turns back to the waves splashing at his feet and rubs his hand into his eye.

Which is when Snafu notices something odd.

He toes back across the ledge and hops down to the rock next to Eugene's to confirm his suspicions. Snafu tilts his head and scoots as close as Eugene will let him.

"Gene?" Snafu prompts gently, "Are you crying?"

Eugene screws his face up and presses his chin against his knees. He's clearly about to start crying in the way anyone starts to cry when they're feeling on the verge and someone asks them about it.

Snafu hastily stands and closes the last few inches between them. He crouches next to Eugene and puts his arm around Gene's shoulders.

"This was a mistake," Eugene breathes.

"I'm sorry," Snafu says. He leans his head in close to Eugene's and leans his weight against him in hopefully a comforting manner.

Eugene shakes his head and a brief sob chokes his next words, "I can't…." he pauses to catch his breath, "I can't do this anymore."

"Then we'll leave," Snafu suggests, "You've got a car. We'll drive out to the desert. You can draw some cacti."

"No, Snaf," Eugene says quietly, his voice goes almost calm, "I mean I can't do this anymore with you."

Snafu stands when he hears those words.

Eugene shivers and starts crying anew.

"You're gonna leave me stuck here without even a train ticket home?" Snafu's mind immediately jumps to how much bus fare will cost, and whether he's got enough cash on him or if he'll have to pick up some odd jobs before he catches the first train back.

"No!" Eugene exclaims, angry again, "I would never do that to you."

"Then what, Gene?" Snafu asks, his own voice rising.

"You can't keep leaving me like this," Eugene insists.

"I just jumped over a goddamn ledge…"

"You left!" Eugene tilts his face up to Snafu and hurtles the accusation at him, "You left without a goodbye and…"

"I came back!" Snafu interrupts.

"Not for my wedding," Eugene says sullenly.

"Nor for Burgie's," Snafu waves it away with a gesture.

"I'm not Burgie!" Eugene declares.

"I came back for your divorce!" Snafu counters.

Eugene drops his head onto his arms.

"For fuck's sake, Eugene haven't you cried over her enough?" Snafu sighs. He climbs back onto the ledge and scoots across over to the jutting rock to put some space between him and Eugene, "It's been four years. You barely knew each other."

"I'm not crying over Edna," Eugene protests sourly and sniffles snot back into his nose.

"Can't imagine why you two didn't work out," Snafu rolls his eyes and swings his legs over the edge of the rock to dangle above the crashing waves, "With names like Edna and Eugene."

A very slight smile tugs at the corner of Eugene's mouth. "E squared," he says.

"She's probably better off," Snafu offers, "No longer saddled with the terrible mouthful 'Edna Sledge'."

"You're one to talk, Merriell," Eugene points out.

"Merriell Sledge has a nice ring to it," Snafu goads him.

"I like Eugene Shelton better," Eugene jokes back.

"Thought you said you were done with me," Snafu says, unable to prevent his big mouth from opening.

Eugene looks up at him with the meanest glare he's ever seen.

It slowly, slowly starts to dawn on Snafu that he might be the reason Eugene Sledge is crying.

That comes as a shock. Snafu takes a moment to think back on his life and all the times he might've made someone cry. And not because he shoved some bully or asshole into the dirt. It's a very short list. One of his earliest memories is visiting his grandma as a child. She cried when he left, and hugged him for longer than he's ever been hugged in his life. His parents died, but they weren't the crying type anyway. His baby sister stopped crying after their parents' deaths. Even when Snafu enlisted, she didn't shed a tear.

And absolutely none of the men Snafu formed attachments to were the crying type either. Till Eugene, till now.

But Snafu can't imagine why Eugene is crying over him. He answered the extremely self-pitying letter Eugene penned in the weeks after Eugene's divorce, he's spent every weekend with Eugene since to keep him company, he tries to be there for whatever Eugene needs. Eugene's got no fucking reason to cry because of him.

Eugene's crying like Snafu broke his heart, except there's no possible way Eugene could care about him that deeply. This love Snafu's got going is a one way street, and he's careful to keep it that way.

Snafu digs into his pocket and pulls out a rather beat up carton of cigarettes. He calmly lights one and tosses the rest to Eugene. Eugene holds the carton like it's something precious.

"Sledgehammer," Snafu says, "Just tell me what you want."

Eugene takes a deep breath to steady himself. He grips the paper cigarette carton hard till it crinkles. "I think I want what those two guys on the beach have…" Eugene tells the waves. And then looks to Snafu for some sort of validation, "...but with you."

Snafu smokes his cigarette and tries to remember there's a ten foot gulf with choppy waves between them and launching himself across it is not physically possible.

"And this is why I can't keep doing this anymore, Snaf," Eugene says when Snafu doesn't answer his request. Eugene turns back to the rocks below his feet and says with great frustration, "Our friendship means everything to me, but it's killing me."

Those last words weigh heavy on Snafu's conscience. "Okay, Gene," he says, "We'll finish out this vacation, and then I promise you'll never have to see me again."

Eugene swallows hard. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his head in his arms once more, so he doesn't have to see Snafu right now.

Snafu makes his way over the ledge for the last time and carefully places a hand on Eugene's trembling shoulder. "C'mon," he says kindly, "Let's get back to the bikes."

Eugene twines his hand with Snafu's. Snafu bends down, braces Eugene's arm with his own, and helps him stand. Eugene sways into Snafu's chest and for a minute their faces are too close together for comfort. But neither of them are looking at each other. And Eugene isn't smiling, so it makes it easy for Snafu to deny the kiss and pull away.

Eugene's horribly quiet as they make their way back over the rocky beach. He pauses before they pass the wall with the swimming pool.

Snafu looks back questioningly.

"I'm hungry," Eugene announces, "You made me ride my bike for three hours, then scramble over rocks for two. This place looks nice, it's hygienic, there's no palm fronds or fake tiki statues. We're stopping here."

Snafu eyes the iron gate skeptically. The lock is hanging loose and the gate is ajar, but only because a few people from the private pool are swimming in the ocean nearby.

"You object?" Eugene asks stubbornly, ready and looking for a fight.

"It's too fancy," Snafu says and jerks his chin in the direction of the three story building stacked in layers on the cliff like a cake, "I see white lace curtains in those windows. Fucking clean lace curtains."

"The hot dogs were too poor, this place is too rich," Eugene says, "Make up your mind, Snafu."

Snafu sighs, but concedes Eugene may have a point. He gestures for Eugene to go through the gate first.

Sometimes Eugene's ability to take all of his generational wealth and privilege and put it to use comes in handy. After hours of physical exercise they look bedraggled. Both of them are dusty, the armpits of their shirts are damp, Eugene's collar is creased, Snafu never had a collar to begin with, they have sand pouring out of their shoes, and yet when Eugene walks through that gate he owns the place.

Snafu slinks in on his coat tails and settles in to watch the show from a distance. Some pool boy comes up to stop Gene from going any further, and the set of Eugene's shoulders takes on a stubborn slant. Eugene isn't pretentious. But he knows how to be. Snafu's never seen Eugene use his status, or his upbringing to deliberately belittle anyone beneath him. When he does draw out this intangible skill to demand the kind of respect money offers, it's always in defense of someone who doesn't have it.

And Snafu kinda likes being the beneficiary of that benevolent righteousness. It's entertaining to watch people's attitudes change toward Eugene in the blink of an eye when they realize he's someone of means.

All it takes is a few quick sentences, and the attendant who initially stopped Eugene is suddenly apologizing and taking Eugene's ID. Before the attendant reverently carries the ID back towards the main house, he glances nervously at Snafu.

Snafu tilts his head back against the pool wall and lazily smiles. Snafu knows where he belongs but he doesn't give a shit.

The attendant turns tail and runs.

Snafu watches him go with a bit of hypocritical glee till Eugene quietly returns to Snafu's side.

"We're staying here tonight, huh?" Snafu smirks.

"Yeah," Eugene nods confidently, his hands in his pockets, "It looks comfortable."

Snafu hums and grins at Eugene admiringly.

"You might have to put up with clean lace curtains for longer than expected," Eugene warns.

"Think I can handle that," Snafu replies.

"Swell," Eugene says, only half sarcastic and immediately satisfied with Snafu's agreement. Eugene's eyes start roaming around the pool deck till he spots what he's looking for, "Now that's settled, I see a burger bar with my name on it."

"I believe the name on that sign says 'Hanna's'," Snafu points out drolly.

"Grab that table overlooking the ocean," Eugene says, "I'll bring you a menu."

Snafu climbs a narrow stone staircase built into the cliff face and sits down at one of the three tables hidden in a nook behind a trellis of lavender. He adjusts the tables a little, shoves one closer to the wall at the edge of the cliff, and then sits down.

Eugene comes up a few minutes later and offers Snafu an embossed menu featuring a long list of items and no prices. "I see you removed the lace tablecloth," Eugene notes with a grin.

Snafu briefly glances at the discarded pile of table linens he made on the table next to theirs and scoffs, "Don't need that shit for hamburgers."

Eugene bites his lip and concentrates on reading his own menu.

They both order hamburgers, and Eugene deliberates between a milkshake or a soda before eventually settling on the house rootbeer. Snafu additionally orders three extra sides of french fries. The hamburgers are as large as Snafu's hands and the french fry portions are generous enough that Snafu still has a large stack at the end of the meal. He leans back in his chair, props his feet up on the ocean wall, and snacks on fries while surveying the waves.

Meanwhile Snafu can feel Eugene's eyes on him.

Snafu finishes his fries, and lights a cigarette.

Eugene is still watching him.

Snafu can't bring himself to meet Eugene's gaze. Eugene's eyes are everything good - kindness, vulnerability, trust, smarts...when Snafu looks into them he feels this rush of uncontainable emotion, that drug that makes his nerves calm. And the persistent need in the back of his head to be somewhere doing something quiets down till it goes silent entirely, because he's here, sharing this with Eugene, and somehow that's more than enough.

They're not even doing anything, they're relaxing on the side of a bluff looking out at the ocean and sharing a cigarette. It should be boring as hell, and yet when Snafu does finally get the guts to flick his eyes towards Gene, he's utterly satisfied.

He's going fucking insane, is what it is. All cause of Eugene's eyes. He tries to clumsily explain this to Gene. Snafu feels he owes him that much. It doesn't come out right. None of Snafu's words ever come out right, not like Gene's with his studied elocution and tendency to think long and hard before he speaks.

Except this time, as Snafu speaks, Eugene's face loses his sour expression entirely, and Snafu sees hope there - maybe a little bit of joy.

Eugene places the cigarette back in Snafu's hands and leans his elbows on the table intently. "Snaf," he says very seriously, "how do I explain to you that I feel the exact same way every time I look at you?"

"Not possible," Snafu counters stubbornly.

"Snaf!" Eugene laughs.

"I can't be for you what those guys on the beach are for each other," Snafu says.

"Why not?"

"Just can't."

"Just like I can't fall in love with my asshole gunner during the middle of a war?" Eugene's still grinning like he can't stop now that he's started.

"I'm not enough, Gene."

Eugene sighs. He studies Snafu's profile quietly for a minute, and then switches tactics. "Do you know why mine and Edna's divorce was okay by my parents?"

Snafu shakes his head. He hadn't even given it a thought. Just assumed Eugene's parents knew their son deserved the best, and anyone named Edna was clearly not that.

"We, uh," Eugene coughs, "We never consummated the marriage. I kept putting it off. Easy to do under strict christian values. Till Edna got fed up, realized I wasn't about to give her kids anytime soon or ever. And demanded we split."

"You're still a virgin?" Snafu stares at him in surprise.

"I am," Eugene blushes angrily, "And I'm kinda tired of people shaming me for that."

"No shame," Snafu says fairly, "I remember how you were during the China occupation years. Always thought that was just cause your fear of VD, though."

"Yeah, that was my excuse at the time," Eugene says, "Snaf, you know I love you. Passionately. I want to be able to say that, whenever I feel it, instead of choking it down and trying to hide it. I'd like to kiss you. I very much enjoy holding you. I think we could live together very happily. That's what I want from you, nothing more." Eugene reaches over the table and takes Snafu's hand resting beside the crystal water goblets. "I'll beg you, if that's what it takes to get it through your thick skull."

Snafu smiles a little despite himself.

"Also, we're both gonna have to work on quitting smoking," Eugene concludes his list, "cause I'm going to need you to grow old with me."

Snafu plucks at the bar menu on the table beside his elbow. He casually picks it up and scans the dessert section. "You know...," he says casually, "...they've got coconut ice cream." He flips the menu around so Eugene can read the list.

Eugene reaches with his free hand and grabs the menu to examine it. "If I buy you coconut ice cream will you finally admit you love me back?"

Snafu looks at him and Eugene is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt.

Snafu uses their twined hands to pull Eugene closer over the table and press his lips to Eugene's in answer. He looks deep into Eugene's eyes, his gaze as unwavering and cliche as his devotion, and says, "I love you, Gene. Heart and soul."

Eugene threads his free hand into the back of Snafu's curls and touches their foreheads together. There's a knowing between them that's existed in some form since that first day on Pavuvu. Eugene doesn't need to say a word, Snafu can read it all in his eyes. He leans in and kisses Eugene one final time before pulling away and standing up.

"Now that that's settled," Snafu says with a devil grin, "Let's go see about that coconut ice cream."

Eugene groans, but when Snafu wraps his hand tighter around Gene's to help him stand and leads him back down the cliffside stairs to the pool deck, Eugene willingly follows.

Snafu stands on his tiptoes at the poolside bar to order a double scoop ice cream cone with chocolate drizzle. Eugene stands to the side and fiddles with the condiments while he waits. Snafu tilts his head to bat his eyes saccharinely at Eugene while the bartender is in the back with the scoops. And Eugene's reflexive smile in return is bashful and more than a little endearing.

They take Snafu's prodigious two scoop chocolate drizzle coconut ice cream cone outside the gate and onto the ocean rocks. The evening air is finally cooling, but the setting sun melts the ice cream fast. Snafu keeps having to lick at his hands where the milky cream runs down his fingers. Snafu sucks at the edge where cone meets ice cream, and notices Eugene watching him.

He waggles the cone in front of Eugene's face invitingly.

Eugene hastily grabs Snafu's hand so his wiggling doesn't make the double scoop fall off into Eugene's lap. "Fine," Eugene sighs, as if tasting ice cream is a true hardship. He holds Snafu's hand still and takes a tentative lick.

Snafu grins when he sees Gene's eyes light up. "It's only called 'coconut ice cream'," Snafu announces, "Never said it tasted like coconut."

"How…?" Eugene asks.

"They just make it out of coconut milk, it's flavored with vanilla," Snafu says, proud to have won an argument.

Eugene eases the cone out of Snafu's hand in order to better take another bite of ice cream.

Eugene's hair is blowing wildly in the ocean breeze. Snafu watches strands of hair fall across Eugene's face and Eugene desperately tries to shake it out of his mouth so he can eat. Snafu chuckles and brushes Eugene's hair off his forehead and holds it there to give him easier access.

Eugene crinkles his eyes at Snafu in amusement and mumbles his thanks in between bites of ice cream.

"I think you've had enough," Snafu comments and draws the cone away from Eugene's grasp after two thirds of the ice cream has magically disappeared. But instead of eating more himself, Snafu kisses Gene and sucks on his bottom lip to get the last drops of ice cream. Eugene tastes sweet, and his lips are refreshingly cold. And when Snafu opens his eyes, he can see that Gene is silently laughing at him - or with him, because Snafu is laughing too.

Snafu grins, kisses the tip of Eugene's long nose because there's some ice cream there, and then turns back to his cone. He barely gets his mouth around it before Eugene is tugging the cone out of his hand a second time.

"Hey, you could'a got your own!" Snafu exclaims, trying to keep the ice cream away.

Gene wins. Because of course he does. "I'll buy you a second one," Eugene promises.

Snafu threads his fingers through Eugene's bangs again to hold them back, and chooses to watch Eugene instead of the sunset. Gene's tinted round sunglasses are brilliantly rosy, casting colored shadows on his cheeks and making them even rosier.

"Gene," Snafu says, just to be able to savor his name.

"Mm?" Eugene cuts his eyes to the side and raises an eyebrow at Snafu even as he licks melted ice cream off his hand.

Snafu tilts his chin up and scoots closer till their sides are pressed tight together. "I think this is gonna be the best vacation I ever have," he confesses.

Eugene turns back to his ice cream and comments, "Thought this was the only vacation you've ever had."

"Yeah, but I mean in the future too," Snafu swipes at his collar and unbuttons it a little to give himself more breathing room.

"Naw," Eugene scoffs, "Don't worry, we'll top it." He licks his lips and hands the almost empty ice cream cone back to Snafu, "That's pretty darn good."

Snafu breaks into a wide grin. "I told you. I told you so, Sledgehammer!" he says proudly, "Next time I suggest new food, you better listen!"

Eugene laughs and agrees, "I will." He maneuvers around on the rock till he can lay his head in Snafu's lap. "If you drip any ice cream on me, try to aim for my mouth," he advises.

"Sure thing, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and bites into the last of the cone with a crunch. It's a bit messy and he does end up dripping some on Eugene, but it lands on Eugene's forehead . It's okay though because Snafu bends over to kiss him clean, and Eugene laughs and complains that it tickles.

When the ice cream disappears, and the sun is set, and the last bit of twilight is slowly fading, Eugene and Snafu make their way back across the rocky beach to their bikes. Nothing's changed, yet everything feels different. This time when Eugene miraculously spots a tiny crab species scuttering over a rock, and stops to admire it, Snafu can openly admire Eugene and Eugene's goofy fascination. And when they're chatting as they walk, and Eugene retorts with something particularly sarcastic, instead of just laughing it off, Snafu gets to tug Eugene back by his hand, spin him around, and lay a kiss on him. Just because he wants to.

Of course, when they do finally reach the bikes and rejoin civilization, Snafu has to reign in his urges somewhat, but from time to time he still manages to smile at Eugene in that way that makes Eugene blush, and usually trip over his own feet if he's not being careful.

They drop the bikes off at the booth, and Eugene pays a rather hefty late fee. They're walking back to their car when Snafu grabs onto Eugene's elbow and stops them both.

He draws Eugene in close and whispers, "Look at the pier, all lit up at night. Like fireflies."

The hippodrome is dotted with popcorn lights, it's turrets and arches glamorous behind shadow in a way they aren't during the day.

Eugene stands straight, takes a deep breath, locks Snafu's arm under his elbow, and takes off down the street towards the pier.

"Gene, where are we going?" Snafu asks worriedly, slightly alarmed and keeping a sharp eye out for anyone looking at them askance because of being arm-in-arm.

"I want to dance," Eugene decides. He marches them straight up to box office window of the ballroom and slaps a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Can he and I enter the ballroom as a couple?" Eugene asks challengingly.

Snafu nearly chokes. It's late enough there's not many people around outside. Most everyone is in the ballroom where the band is in full swing. Whenever one of the front doors opens and people exit, a cacophony of talking and loud music escapes with them.

The bored and exhausted woman behind the desk takes in Eugene, lingering on Eugene's Marine Corps ring, and then Snafu, and shrugs, "Sure, whatever."

Eugene nods enthusiastically in relief, "Thank you," and slides the money over. Being pressed up against Eugene's side, Snafu can feel him sweating.

The girl behind the counter gives them two tickets and their change. Eugene gratefully pushes five dollars of it back to her, nods once more, and drags a still-in-shock Snafu over to the doors.

Eugene falters once inside the doorway, suddenly shy. He holds his head up high, but there's tension in his neck when Eugene swallows nervously.

It's up to Snafu to pry his hand out from underneath Eugene's sweaty armpit, and walk them both onto the dance floor.

The first few dances are easy as pie. The songs are familiar, big band numbers both of them recognize from their days during and immediately after the war. Eugene is a horrible dancer, but Snafu more than makes up for it. And with how lively everything is, no one notices two boys in a crowded corner doing the jitterbug with themselves.

Plus Snafu secretly enjoys having to grab Eugene's hips and turn him in the proper direction or place. Even if it also means he nearly trips over Eugene's feet every five minutes. There's a freedom in being able to be naturally affectionate with each other in public.

The only person that bothers them is a short but very handsome man who comes up to compliment Snafu on his dancing.

"How'd you get stuck with this dancing ginger elephant," the guy says to Snafu and sticks his thumb at Eugene, "Why, you're so light on your feet, I bet you could get any girl on the wall in here."

"I'm teaching him how to dance," Snafu says curtly. He shifts his grip on Eugene's hand and swings Gene close into his side protectively.

Meanwhile Eugene is glaring at the newcomer.

"Hey, you're teaching skills must be pretty swell," the guy says admirably, "Can I get a lesson?"

Snafu skids their dance to a stop. There's no way this asshole is going to go away without some kind of placation. Snafu turns around and grins, fully prepared to give this guy a verbal vertical buttstroke to the chin. But Eugene intervenes first.

"You're out of luck, mister," Eugene says. He pushes his way in between the guy and Snafu, "I'm afraid he's all booked up tonight."

"Oh," the guy says affably, completely clueless to Eugene's souring mood, "Well, how about tomorrow?"

"He's busy tomorrow too," Eugene replies.

"But not tomorrow night," Snafu interjects, slipping around Eugene, "Give me your name and number and I'll call you with my lesson schedule."

Once Snafu jots down the guy's information, the man finally goes away satisfied.

"You're not really going to call him?" Eugene asks.

Snafu tries to coax him back into a dance, but Eugene's limbs turn very floppy when he's unenthused. "Of course not," Snafu answers, "But he's gonna leave us alone now. And he won't go complain to someone about the two guys dancing together on the floor."

"True," Eugene sighs.

Snafu spins them around and launches into one of the dance moves Eugene picked up the fastest in order to give Gene something to feel confident about. They link hands and hook opposing arms behind their heads. In one swoop their grips slide down each other's arms till they catch their hands again.

Eugene grins.

Snafu uses their momentum to snap them close together again and they playfully push each other to rotate clockwise.

"Feeling better?" Snafu asks.

"He was smarmy," Eugene states. He switches direction on the beat and touches Snafu's shoulder to follow.

"He was," Snafu agrees, amused.

"He's not your type," Eugene says, turning a second time.

"Definitely not," Snafu agrees again.

"What is your type?" Eugene asks. He sounds slightly worried, as if the thought just occurred to him that Snafu might have a 'type'. And he might not be it.

"I like guys who are smarter than me," Snafu reassures him smarmily.

"Well shit, that rules out at least ninety percent of the population," Eugene declares.

"Yeah," Snafu grins, "Good thing I found you."

"Good thing," Eugene agrees.

Snafu swings out and twists back in till he's tucked neatly under Eugene's arm, and pauses to wink at his dance partner. "Plus, you're no elephant," he reassures him.

Eugene snorts, "Actually he might have been right on that front…"

"No way!" Snafu insists, stepping out and holding their hands at length, "You'll be a great dancer. I think you might be ready for a few aerials."

Eugene furrows his brow and looks concerned, "Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope. Don't worry about it, I'm light, you'll toss me around like I'm nothing," he says.

"Snaf," Eugene exclaims, "I'll end up dropping you is what I'll do."

"You won't," Snafu insists. He shim shams into Eugene's space and tilts his head up till they're a breath away from kissing, and smiles disarmingly, "I trust you."

Which, of course, Eugene can never resist so here they are on the dance floor, Snafu explaining the simple physics of launching one body off another to an expert in biology. Hooking their arms together and him rolling over Eugene's back is the easiest so they start there.

For all his nerves, Eugene proves to be a very solid dance partner. He never shies away from a hold, and his feet might be slightly off but they never stumble. The first time Eugene effortlessly swings Snafu over his leg and into a side dip, Snafu's heart is fluttering in his chest and he's gazing up at Eugene in exuberant delight. Eugene sets Snafu down, swings him out, and when they come back together they almost collapse against one another in relieved laughter over their success. Snafu's arms lope around Eugene's neck and they giggle terribly.

Snafu didn't expect this.

He probably should have, Eugene never does anything by half and he always is a quick learner. Eugene picks up the steps so fast, in fact, that by the end of the second hour Snafu has to start shooing wallflower girls away who keep wanting to take Snafu's place.

Eugene, being Eugene, completely fails to notice the girls' interest, which is almost as entertaining as him refusing to take his attention off Snafu all night. A few times Snafu offers to give Eugene a break, and maybe find his own girl to take for a spin in the middle of the dance floor. But Eugene insists he needs no breaks.

When the music finally switches to something slow, Snafu slides to a stop and leans heavily against Eugene's shoulder panting.

"Let's get some water," Eugene suggests, and pats Snafu on the back. He starts off in the direction of the bar but Snafu hangs behind.

"What," Snafu taunts when Eugene glances back at him, "You won't slow dance with me?"

Eugene's eyebrows shoot up, his eyes go wide.

Snafu doesn't give him a chance to overthink things. He takes Eugene's hands, positions them properly for a waltz, and leads him into the dance. At first Eugene is stiff, and he refuses to make eye contact with Snafu, too busy scanning the room.

But after a few steps, after the world doesn't end, Eugene folds in closer to Snafu's body. Their cheeks brush. And Eugene's ear is suddenly right there, in front of Snafu's mouth. So Snafu tightens his embrace, and sings along to the song's romantic lyrics in a whisper meant for Eugene alone.

Snafu can understand Eugene's initial hesitation. After all the years Snafu spent sharing dances with various partners he didn't give a shit about, this feels especially vulnerable, despite the fact that they are one couple among thousands on the floor. There's a part of him that didn't think he'd ever have this moment. That for all the people jumping at the chance to dance with him, Snafu'd never feel the same way about someone else.

Eugene is so fucking gentle, it's easy to mistake him as soft. His hand is light against the small of Snafu's back. It's a little hard to believe not two minutes ago that same hand was gripping Snafu's thigh hard as Eugene spun him into an aerial. But as always, Eugene only uses his strength when necessary.

"When I graduate this year, I'm going to do my PHD in Florida," Eugene says as they slowly sway to the music, "I know I'm asking a lot but...Merriell...would you come with me?"

Snafu remains silent. He hadn't fully considered what loving Eugene might actually mean. That with him came Alabama, the Sledge family, the universities...

"I'll have a stipend, to take the financial pressure off," Eugene hastily elaborates, because Eugene always feels that if he adds more facts into the conversation he'll be more likely to win, "If you can find a job locally, that'd be great, but you wouldn't need to work. I've been budgeting this past year and I've calculated a way for the two of us to live off what I make. Maybe not comfortably, but it wouldn't be for long. When I get my diploma we can go back to New Orleans, or anywhere you want really. There are colleges and universities in almost any city. Snafu, I want you with me. No more pining after you every week and only feeling whole on the weekends…"

"How long've you been thinking about this?" Snafu asks.

Eugene is quiet for a while. "Do you mean how long have I been planning for it, or how long have I wanted it?"

"The second one?" Snafu asks, slightly uncertain.

"That day on the train…" Eugene begins.

"A few days??" Snafu interrupts incredulously, "That's all the thought you've given this, for fucks sake Gene!"

"On the train in 1946!" Eugene corrects sternly.

Which just about shuts Snafu up.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything sooner?" Snafu asks.

"Snaf, if you would just let me finish," Eugene complains, "That day on the train Burgie was talking about marriage, you were asking about jobs, everybody seemed to be thinking about commitments and when you turned to me the only damn certainty I had in my head was you. But then you didn't say goodbye. I thought...I figured…you were done with us in your life...with me."

"If I follow you to Florida will that make up for it?" Snafu asks.

Eugene grins, real slow, like he knows the past four years of Snafu being at Eugene's beck and call is partially Snafu's way of atoning for his abrupt departure. "It just might," Eugene says confidently, "It just might."

One thing about the timeline of everything doesn't add up in Snafu's mind. "So," he says, "I don't say goodbye and six months later you go and get yourself married?"

"I assumed leaving was your hint to me to try to fall back into civilian life. To forget about the war, and war buddies, live normally. And according to everyone, that meant marriage," Eugene sighs.

"Who's everybody?" Snafu smirks.

"Not you, obviously, Mr. Confirmed Bachelor," Eugene smiles back at him slyly, "But my mother, and Sid. Hell, even my brother got on me for still being a virgin."

Snafu laughs and dips his head closer to Eugene as they dance. He rests his cheek on Eugene's shoulder along with most of his weight, relying on Eugene to hold them both upright. "Did you love Edna?" he asks.

"I did, but not in the way she wanted," Eugene says quietly, "She's a lovely person, sometimes I wish I could love her like she deserves, like how I love you. Might've made life easier. But not better, I don't think."

"You saying me walking back into your life after your divorce made things better?" Snafu laughs at the absurdity.

"Yes," Eugene says seriously, "Infinitely better."

Snafu lifts his head from Eugene's shoulder in order to pull away and look into his eyes, to see if he's telling the truth. "Okay," Snafu agrees, "We'll go to Florida together. Till then, I'll see if my boss knows anyone in Auburn who can find me some work up there, and I'll move to Alabama."

Eugene gives Snafu a blank stare, so akin to the ones Snafu usually gives him, that it throws Snafu off and makes him question everything (including the efficacy of his own blank stares, maybe he should try to learn to communicate better).

The song the band is playing comes to an end, and the swing starts up again. The couples around them whirl into motion. But nobody pays attention to the two men standing in the middle of it all with their arms locked around each other.

Till Eugene surges forward and kisses Snafu.

The kiss catches Snafu off guard. Eugene's hand is flat on the small of Snafu's back and is holding Snafu flush against Eugene's body. Good thing too, cause Snafu's knees almost buckle in surprise. Eugene bends him over backwards in his enthusiasm to kiss Snafu harder, and Snafu wraps his arms tight around Eugene's neck and smiles into the kiss.

This is it, this is the 'war-is-over-we-are-going-home-together-in-triumph' kiss Snafu has been waiting for. Not triumph in the form of parades and adulation. But triumph in that against all odds, they survived, they found each other, Eugene fucking loves him, and they're gonna actually, finally...live.

They're about six years late, but Snafu figures that's forgivable when taking into account insecurities and the lingering numbness and fear hanging round their necks.

Eugene breaks the kiss and stares into Snafu's eyes, and Eugene is so pretty - he's so fucking pretty it hurts. Snafu wants to kiss him till all traces of that war weary blankness are gone from his eyes. There's moments - when Eugene comes to life with his sarcasm or sly wit or intellectual curiosity, and Snafu likes to pride himself on being able to bring those moments out. But is it enough?

After a bit Snafu begins to notice that it's not just them gone completely still. The couples around them are stopping and staring, and whispering.

"Shit," Snafu says under his breath to Eugene. He ducks his head and takes his arms off Eugene's shoulders.

"Yeah, we should probably get out of here," Eugene agrees. His hands still grip Snafu's hips.

Snafu laughs, giddy and reckless, and bumps his shoulder playfully into Gene's. If anyone nearby had any doubts after that kiss, all they'd have to do is take one look at Eugene's face and see how damn in love he is.

"Hey!" someone in the crowd calls out and Snafu can see the guy coming at them in the peripheral of his vision.

Snafu grabs Eugene's elbow. "Walk fast, but try to not draw more attention," he whispers and leads Eugene off the dance floor. They make it to the entrance and out the doors. As soon as they get outside, Snafu twines his hand with Eugene's and breaks into a run, their feet hitting the wooden boardwalk with loud hollow thumps. They can hear agitated voices and footsteps behind them, and they don't stop running till they reach the car.

Snafu slams the passenger door shut and turns to Eugene as soon as he gets inside. They're laughing from adrenaline and Snafu's heart is racing. He cups Eugene's cheek and tilts his head for another quick kiss before Eugene starts the engine.

Somehow Eugene knows the drive back to the hotel on the oceanside cliffs. Snafu doesn't pay any attention. He kicks his feet up on the dash and is too busy admiring Gene's long nose and the curve of his jaw backlit by the passing neon lights to give any thought to the car's direction.

The parking lot for the hotel is at the top of the cliff. There's a locked iron gate, nestled between eight foot tall hedges, with the name of the place welded onto it in an arc. The gate is small, and barely noticeable at the edge of the lot. Eugene has a key - it's antique and very decorative - and lets them in. The stairway beyond the gate switchbacks down the cliff, with thick walls protecting people from falling off the path. The air is thick and heavy with the smell of flowers growing abundantly around them.

Snafu pauses under one of the lamps. He folds his elbows over the wall, rests his chin on top, and looks out across the hotel and gardens below, and the ocean beyond. "We stepped into a goddamn fairytale," Snafu says.

Eugene comes up behind him with an embrace and rests his chin on Snafu's head, "Does that make you my prince?"

"No way," Snafu emphatically denies, "If anyone is a prince in this scenario, it's you Gene."

"Impossible," Eugene says with a smile, "Prince Eugene sounds like a pompous ass. Prince Merriell, on the other hand…."

Snafu laughs. "Maybe that's what my ma had in mind when she made up my name."

"Definitely," Eugene agrees, "She knew you'd grow up regal."

"Fuck regal," Snafu rolls his eyes, "Fuck propriety. You willing to give up all that shit for me, Gene? We ain't gonna be accepted into those circles anymore."

"Yes," Eugene says readily.

And Snafu believes him.

Their hotel suite, as expected, has white lace curtains covering each window, holding back the ocean breeze. Snafu's mother hung lace curtains in their home too, but those were already yellowed with age, patched in places, and quickly turned grey with dust. These hotel curtains reach to the floor and yet remain pristine.

Snafu stands on the balcony and smokes before bed. Eugene sits inside and reads. Or at least Snafu thinks Eugene is reading. Snafu turns his gaze away from the ocean only to catch Eugene guiltily ducking his head behind his journal.

"What?" Snafu asks, with a wry smile.

"Nothing," Eugene says, which almost definitely means it's something he's embarrassed about.

Snafu snubs out his cigarette and leans over Eugene's shoulder to investigate.

"Thought you just drew plants?" Snafu asks.

"I'm expanding my range," Eugene says dryly.

"You made me look skinny," Snafu comments.

"You are skinny," Eugene counters. He hooks an arm around Snafu's waist and walks him over to the bed. He sweeps Snafu off his feet in one of the lindy hop holds, and tosses Snafu onto the bed.

"Never should have taught you those aerials," Snafu teases. He stretches out across the pillows and dares Eugene with his eyes to join him.

Eugene says nothing, just grins widely as he climbs onto the bed next to Snafu.

Snafu kisses that self satisfied smile on Eugene's face.

They lie next to each other, their legs entwined, and their noses so close they're almost touching. There's a lightness in Snafu's chest he's never felt before. Happiness he knows, elation he knows - as rare as those things are. But this is new. He knows it can't last. Nightmares will come, they won't just go away, but for now he can lie here and soak up Gene's presence.

"I already knew you loved me," Snafu confesses.

"What do you mean?" Eugene asks.

"Even before you said it today. I think I've known since Okinawa," Snafu says.

"I figured," Eugene replies.

"Were a couple of fucking cowards," Snafu laughs.

"No, the world is cowardly," Eugene counters, "We were just trying too hard to adapt to it."

Snafu bites his bottom lip in consideration. He lifts his chin, thinks about saying something, and then decides words aren't necessary. Gene knows. Gene's always known. Snafu reaches over and gently takes Eugene's hand. Snafu twists around and pulls Eugene's arm across his body till his back is tucked against Eugene's chest.

Eugene folds around him. He's warm, and he's so much in love.

"Snaf," Eugene whispers in his ear before they fall asleep, "Let's get it right this time. Just you and me."

tagging requests: @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar (btw i think you have tagging turned off) (also if I am missing anybody on this list I apologize, pls tell me <3)

#sledgefu #Bad germs

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might-be-a-zygon · 3 years

Text

Flat 40b

Chapter Five

What Road to Take?

AO3 link in the reblogs

Thea wasn’t really sure how she’d wound up spending so long chatting to that odd woman in the odder room. It was all a little concerning, honestly- just a woman sitting alone in a little room like that, with such a secure lock. She’d been half worried that someone had trapped her there, but when Thea had held the door open for her to follow, she’d just said she was waiting for a friend to visit and asked Thea to shut it for her.

She hadn’t expected the sky to have darkened when she left the room, but she wasn’t particularly worried. It wasn’t a far walk to the flat, after all, and she hadn’t had much else to do that day.

Still, her casual dismissal of how late it’d gotten did turn to some degree of guilt when she spotted Yaz, still sitting up in the kitchen, looking at her with a degree of relief.

“Where have you been?” She asked, looking Thea up and down as though expecting to see some injury. “Bill said you went for a walk after the lecture and they you never came back- I was worried.”

Thea had the good grace to look guilty, at least.

“I didn’t realise how long I was gone.” She admitted, taking a seat opposite Yaz at the kitchen table, even if all she really wanted to do now was go back to her room and try and work out who that mystery woman was.

“You didn’t even notice it getting dark?” She could tell Yaz didn’t quite believe her.

Thea considered a moment. She could tell Yaz the truth- they were friends, after all. Best friends. By all accounts, she should tell her, but- something deep inside of her was screaming that telling Yaz about the woman in her vault would be a very bad idea. It seemed to be the kind of thing which she just knew should be kept secret.

“I went to the library.” She lied, digging a notebook out of her bag as though trying to prove her point. “Keep having these weird dreams, I’ve been trying to write them down. Thought I might try and make them into a book or something.”

Yaz blinked at her a few times. She seemed to have been caught off guard by that one. “Weird dreams?” She asked, taking her hands off of the mug in front of her and reaching for the book tentatively. Thea handed it over without complaint.

She hadn’t been planning on sharing them again, but in honesty doing so made her feel an awful lot less guilty about lying to Yaz about where she’d been.

“Is that me?” Yaz asked, holding up a sketch of the pair of them in some sterile room.

Thea grinned, nodding. “Yeah! That’s the one where we’re fighting the little goblin!”

“The goblin?”

Thea flicked forwards a few pages to another sketch of a pting. It had a snarl on it’s face, just like it’s real life counterpart had when they’d faced him on the hospital ship.

“I don’t know what I’m actually gonna call them, yet.” She admitted, “But he’s kind of cute, look. They’re these little goblin things that eat everything.”

“And you’ve been dreaming about this?” Yaz asked.

“Yeah. Probably just too much dodgy sci-fi before bed, but I think there are some cool ideas there, if I could streamline them into something.”

“And you- am I there a lot?”

Thea was suddenly very glad she wasn’t much of a blusher.

“Sometimes.” She admitted, not quite looking Yaz in the eye. “A fair bit, really. You’re my best mate, I like it when you show up. Those are always the best ones- we fight aliens and stuff.”

Yaz broke into an almost proud smile, and Thea had to remind herself not to stare. Had Yaz always looked that pretty when she smiled?

“Aliens?” she laughed, as though at some joke Thea didn’t quite get. “I thought they were goblins?”

“Can’t they be both?” Thea asked, flicking through the pages. “I have one in here about vampires who were fish, too…”

“I’m just saying.” Martha raised her hands in mock surrender, “Maybe if it’s been this long and I haven’t seen anything weird, and you haven’t had any weird readings, it was just a machine error or something.”

“There’s got to be a reason that we were brought here in the first place.” The Doctor responded stubbornly, not even looking up at her. He’d been tinkering with the same bit of the console throughout their entire conversation, and it certainly wasn’t helping her feel particularly heard in the situation.

It wasn’t like she needed his undivided attention- they’d not spoken in person once since she’d moved into the flat- but it was more than a little frustrating to be ignored while she was trying to report what was going on to him. It didn’t help that most of the reason she’d agreed to this in the first place was to learn about emerging technology, and since he’d registered her as a first year, she was going through all the basics over again.

“Go through it again.” He said, more instruction than request.

“Go through what?” Martha asked, showing her frustration a little more, now.

“What’ve you found.”

“I told you already! There’s nothing suspicious. No signs of aliens or anything, just a normal Uni campus.”

The Doctor made a frustrated noise, and Martha couldn’t tell whether it was aimed at her, or whatever he was fixing. He muttered something under his breath, quiet enough that she clearly wasn’t supposed to be able to hear it, though she could just about pick out the word Rose. That one stung.

Of course Rose would have been able to track down whatever was going on immediately.

Or, at least the Doctor might have believed her when she said that nothing seemed suspicious.

“The energy readings from your flat are off.” The Doctor insisted, finally giving up on what he was messing with, though if Martha thought she was actually going to have any attention paid to her she was sorely mistaken, since he moved straight back to checking the readouts on the monitor. “Who’s living there? You’re sure they’re all human?”

“Well I haven’t exactly tested them all.” Martha replied sarcastically, “But everyone seems normal. They’re eating and sleeping like humans.”

“Nobody’s wearing a shimmer?”

“What’s a shimmer?”

“Oh it’s all-“ he made a vague gesture in mid-air which was apparently supposed to mean something. “You know. A shimmer.”

Martha gave him a blank look.

“…Right.” He nodded after a minute. “I’ll get you something to test for a shimmer.”

“Doctor-“

He cut her off before she could actually voice her question, brow furrowing, “Oh- Yeah you’re right, that won’t work if they’re Zygons.” he said, despite not having given her time to actually say anything even if she had known what a Zygon was. “Tell you what, I’ll get you a DNA scanner too.”

“Hang on.” Martha said, “You want me to scan my flatmate’s DNA? How am I meant to do that?”

The Doctor shrugged her concerns off. “I know you’ll work it out.”

Her meeting with Jack had dragged Yaz right out of the town centre, to some pop-up milkshake shop which was she’d heard a few other students chatting about. She’d been meaning to ask if Thea wanted to go (as friends, obviously), so it wasn’t as though she was actively blaming jack for dragging her away from the University for a little while. After all, they had to make sure to avoid his past self.

She’d arrived first, though she could hardly be annoyed about that- it’d been her idea. She arrived, checked that Rose and the other Jack were absent, texted the all clear, then grabbed herself a drink, and snagged a booth in the back corner where they’d be able to chat with some degree of privacy.

“Yasmin Khan.” Yaz heard a voice that was becoming increasingly familiar from behind her, turning around to smile a little at Jack as he approached her.

It was odd, really- being relieved to see him, rather than dreading it. That first time she’d been scared out of her mind (though in fairness, he had kidnapped all three of them), and the second- well. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d been so overwhelmed by the Doctor’s return she’d hardly noticed Jack stepping out alongside her. This time though? Well, seeing someone she could actually talk to about all of this was amazing.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’m always here to help a friend.” Jack said seriously, despite the grin on his face. He slid into the booth opposite her, “Loving the choice of venue, by the way. Very 1950s.”

“Remind you of home?” Yaz asked, just for something to fill the small talk, though she was really itching to get straight onto the topic at hand.

“You’d think.” Jack laughed slightly, as though at some joke she wasn’t privy to. She didn’t push him.

“So.” She said, when he didn’t elaborate. He sat forwards slightly in his seat, already knowing what she was about to say, “You know about this chameleon thing the Doctor used to make herself human?”

“Not quite.” Jack admitted, glancing over behind her, in the direction of the counter. “I know what it is, but I’ve never been around when she’s had to use it.”

Yaz seemed to deflate a little at that. It was hardly his fault, but she’d really been hoping for some more concrete advice about the whole situation.

Noticing her reaction, he gave her a reassuring look, “Hey, don’t worry. I haven’t see it but I called in a friend of mine who has. Great girl, you’ll like her. She was with the Doctor the last time. Plus she’s from this Time Zone so she’ll cause a lot less chaos hanging around here than either of us will.”

“You brought backup?” The relief on her face grew. She’d been beginning to feel very out of her depth, especially with all of Thea’s talk about weird dreams and secret rooms. What was she supposed to say to discourage Thea from sneaking around when she was supposed to be keeping herself safe? She was still the Doctor under all that, after all.

Jack grinned. “The Doctor drops into a lot of people’s lives. Makes a lot of friends. I knew a woman, once, used to say that for a lonely man, the Doctor had the biggest family in the world.”

Odd as it was to hear the Doctor being referred to as a lonely man, Yaz smiled. It was nice to think how many other people out there would always be there for the Doctor when she needed them.

“And this friend of yours can help?” She asked.

“Oh yeah.” He smiled at someone behind her, and Yaz turned to get a look. “PC Yasmin Khan, meet Dr-”

“Martha!” Yaz exclaimed, shock plain on her face, because- That was Martha, right? It was so clearly her. Except Martha was younger than this woman, by a fair few years, and at least judging by the shocked expression on her face, she didn’t recognise Yaz either.

“You two have met?” Jack asked, looking between them.

Both responded at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Another bewildered look shared, though Jack barking a laugh boke the tension.

“The joys of time travel.”

Martha seemed to relax slightly at that, slipping into the booth next to Jack, and setting a drink down in front of each of them. Yaz didn’t relax. She couldn’t just yet. If the Martha she’d met was younger, why didn’t this one seem to recognise her at all?

“Jack said the Doctor used the Chameleon Arch again?” Martha asked, drawing Yaz’s attention away from that issue for a moment. It was strange, but Jack had said she could help, and Yaz needed all the help she could get working out what was tracking them.

“That’s the thing that turns her human?” Yaz checked. The Doctor had never actually given it a name during their panicked preparations.

“Hang on, her?” Martha raised an eyebrow. “Blimy. He said he could change his face but I never knew he could change it that much.”

“You knew the white haired Scotsman?” Yaz asked. It was what the Doctor had said she’d looked like before.

“He got Scottish too? This must be a few regenerations since I last saw him.” Martha laughed. “I knew spikey hair and sandshoes.”

“Can’t believe I missed them turning Scottish.”

All three of them laughed a little at Jack’s statement, seeming to break a lot of the tension.

“So, spiky hair and sandshoes is who we think is here?” Yaz asked Jack. “You said the past you came here with a previous Doctor to investigate.”

“Oh, no. That was the Doctor with the ears and the leather jacket.” He supplied.

Yaz tried to picture the Doctor running around in a leather jacket, then quickly stopped herself. Nice as that image was, she doubted she’d get much else done today if she didn’t get it out of her head.

Still, that Martha thing was still nagging at her.

“Hang on, if the younger you,” Yaz nodded at Jack, “Is here with a younger Doctor. Then-” she glanced at Martha. “There’s a younger you living in the same flat as me and Rose. Does that mean…?”

“Another Doctor.”

Martha looked between Jack and Yaz, clearly thrown off by this whole thing.

“Hang on. I don’t remember coming here.”

“I don’t either, not really.” Jack said, though he seemed very calm about this whole thing. “Crossing your own timeline can sometimes scramble your head a bit. Makes you forget stuff, so you don’t find out about your own future too early.”

Martha gave him a look. “Do I want to know what you’ve been doing hanging around in your own timestream?” He winked at her, and based on the face she pulled, the answer was no.

“So, three Doctor’s then.” Yaz said, changing the subject. “That feels like a bad thing.”

“Well it’s not a good one.” Jack conceded. “We’re gonna need a way to differentiate, for a start.”

“Ears, Sandshoes and-“ Martha looked to the two who’d met the latest Doctor for a descriptor.

“Rainbows.” Yaz supplied. “She’s going by Thea Smith, right now, though.”

“Thea?” Martha looked surprised. “I would have expected Jane Smith.”

“Might be a little close to home.” Jack suggested.

The pair of them shared a sad look, and Yaz didn’t want to ask.

“Ears, Sandshoes, and Rainbows.” Yaz repeated, trying to get them back on topic.

“They’re like codenames.” Martha said. “It’s like we’re playing spies.”

Yaz felt a shiver run down her spine at the idea of ‘playing spies’. She’d been there, and fun as it had seemed at first… Well, she didn’t want to do it again. She thought about being on the run with Ryan and Graham, knowing how scared her family had to be, the plane, and that endless realm that those creatures had taken her to. They were all still fresh, and had very much put her off the James Bond lifestyle.

“Not spies.” She responded, quickly. The other two looked at her with some surprise. “There was a thing, with the Doctor, and some old mate-but-not-mate of hers. It wasn’t-“

Both of their expressions turned to understanding.

“The Master?” Jack asked and, when Yaz nodded, he spoke with the same bitter anger he’d used when talking about the daleks. “Pity. I’d hoped he’d stay dead.”

Opening up the diner portion of the TARDIS as a student hangout had seemed like a good idea at the time. They’d get to hear more gossip from around campus, and Clara had been kind of hoping it’d get them more information, though as of now she’d mostly just heard nonsense about who was dating who, and which of the tutors had the worst reputation.

The only real consolation was that they were far enough out of the way that they weren’t too busy, despite it being a Saturday morning. She had the distinct impression that most people were probably too hungover from the last night of Fresher’s week to fancy a milkshake.

It’d been an especially easy morning, really, since she’d roped Me into helping her out behind the counter, and she was just cleaning out one of the machines when her girlfriend had nudged her in the side, nodding towards a figure who’d just stepped into the shop.

“Is that…?”

“Jack Harkness.” Me responded, with a tone that suggested she was already bored of whatever drama he was about to drag them into.

It was hard to blame her- it wasn’t as though Earth had a lot of immortals, and from what stories of Me’s Clara had heard and read, they’d run into one another a fair few times over the years, usually with dramatic or dangerous results. Thankfully, he walked straight past them, to settle in a corner booth.

“What’re the bets that he’s behind this?”

Clara shot her a look that said ‘be nice’, despite the very real possibility he did have something to do with this.

“Should I go talk to him?” Clara asked.

Me shook her head. “I’ll do it. I’ve known him longer.”

“Play nice.” Clara said, a pleading note in her voice.

“I’m always nice.” Me responded in mock-offence, though the smile she gave Clara was a little too soft to maintain that charade. She leant in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek, before slipping off towards the corner table.

The fact that they’d settled in the corner was honestly enough of a worry. There were two empty tables in between them and the nearest other customers, and they were speaking in the kind of low voices which implied they were plotting something.

“Okay, so no spy stuff.” Jack said as she approached, “But we’re keeping the code names.”

“Jack Harkness.” She said, drawing his attention, as well as that of his friends. “I should have known you’d be the source of all this.”

“Me.” Jack looked interested at her intrusion, even if his friends looked baffled. “Or, do I still have to call you Lady Me? Because you know I’m not big on titles.”

“Titles like Captain?” She retorted.

“Touché.” He smiled, in a way which made it unclear whether they were friends or foes. “Least you haven’t threatened me with a sword this time. Loving the uniform, by the way.”

“Still the same insufferable flirt, then?”

“You know you love it.” He grinned, before turning to his friends. “Martha, Yaz, meet Me. I have a feeling she might know a little bit about our problem.”

So, on the one hand, hanging around outside his dead wife’s office was an awful idea. On the other, the Doctor really couldn’t resist. He wasn’t planning on talking to her- he just wanted to see her, for a minute.

He knew that it would only upset him, really. He was just opening up an old wound. Somehow, though, that didn’t phase him. Seeing her for a few minutes- letting himself look back just once. It had to be worth it.

The Doctor was fully planning on seeing a face from his past that would make his hearts ache with loss- though the one he got was one that made them sink with guilt, instead.

Ashildr. He’d lost track of her a very long time ago- somewhere before all that hazy business on Gallifrey. Still, in this time zone he’d have assumed that she’d be managing Trap Street, still, not hanging around a University.

Not walking out of River Song’s office with a smile on her face.

Whatever she was planning, he already didn’t like it.

“Ashildr.” He said by way of greeting, glancing towards the door, but barely catching a glimpse of River before it slammed shut.

“Who?” From the look of false-innocence on her face, he got the impression that Ashildr was being purposefully difficult.

“You.”

“Call me Me, Doctor. How many times do I have to remind you?”

“Me isn’t a name.” He replied, sounding almost like a petulant child.

“Nor is Doctor.” Ashildr replied coolly, crossing her arms.

Since he didn’t have much of a retort for that one, he found himself falling silent for a moment, though when she didn’t get a response, and began to walk away, he found himself asking a question just to stop her from leaving just yet. He really didn’t like that she was here- with everything else that was going on, it made him nervous.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, still not sounding the most friendly. He didn’t remember much about his last few meetings with Ashildr, but he remembered coming away from them very angry with her. She had to have done something, he just didn’t remember what.

She shrugged, maddeningly casual about the odd reunion. “The same thing as you, I imagine.”

Well that one certainly couldn’t be true. Ashildr may have had some questionable practices, but as far as the Doctor was concerned his and Missy’s current predicament had to be pretty unique.

“I really don’t think you are.”

Seemingly a little thrown off, she asked. “You’re not here investigating all the odd energy readings?”

“Energy readings?”

Ashildr narrowed her eyes at that. It clearly wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting, at any rate. “Why are you here, then?”

“I’ve got a thing to do.” He replied, sounding totally confident in his own vague explanation, even if she looked unconvinced.

“I told you once I’d protect the world from you, Doctor. I meant it.”

“I know you did.”

“Well then, I’d-”

Before either of them could continue their argument, the office door opened, and an annoyed looking River Song stuck her head out, looking between the pair of them as though they were naughty schoolchildren. Seeing that one of them was a Professor did nothing to change her demeanour- not that the Doctor had expected for a minute it would. Not with River.

“Excuse me, I don’t know what the two of you are bickering about, but if you could take it somewhere that isn’t right outside my door, I think it would be better for everybody. Okay?” She said sharply.

Ashildr offered a quick apology, while the Doctor suddenly found his throat had gone dry, his eyes fixed on the woman he’d been fairly sure he’d never see again.

She waited a full minute for him to speak, before beginning to disappear back inside. “Right, then. I’ll take the gawping fish look as a yes.”

“Y-Yes.” He just about managed as the door slammed shut between them.

By the time he’d managed to process what had happened and turned back to Ashildr to continue their argument, she was already disappearing from view at the end of the corridor.

After the third time going through the information they had at this point (which was about as little as they’d had when they arrived), Amy was really beginning to regret deciding to come back to the TARDIS instead of heading to the Student Union.

“Right…” The Doctor was pacing around the console, still. By now Amy was fairly sure he was talking more to himself than to them. “Right so what have we got? We’ve got a professor who doesn’t age-“

“We’ve got a professor who doesn’t age, and some weird energy readings coming from our flat.” She sighed, looking bored with the whole thing. “It’s the same thing we’ve known all week.”

“Wasn’t River trying to meet the professor.” Rory offered before either of them could say anything more. He just wanted them to stay on track, which between the Doctor and Amy was always a tricky task.

“He won’t set up a meeting with her.” Amy responded, “She said he turned her down when she made a proper request, and he’s never in his office when she goes.”

“So he’s onto her, then?” asked Rory.

“No…” The Doctor had moved back over to the scanner, now, bringing up those readings again, as though he was on the brink of some breakthrough the others couldn’t see. “No. Doesn’t make sense. I’m missing something-“ He turned to the pair of them. “What am I missing?”

Rory gave him a blank look.

“Right. Of course. In my head. Yeah…” The TARDIS made a wheezing noise, which appeared to mean something to him based on his reaction. “Oh! Oh, yes. That’s good, okay…” He began digging through a drawer under the console.

“What’s good?” Amy asked, leaning forwards to try and get a look what he was messing about with. When he didn’t respond right away she actually stepped over to get a look at the odd little device he was holding. It looked a bit like a USB drive, just with a display screen. “Doctor? What’s that?”

“What does he teach?” He asked, instead of answering her.

Amy hesitated. She knew that Bill, Thea and Jenny had been to lectures with their mystery professor, but she’d never bothered to work out what the lectures were actually about.

“Oh, I don’t know. I could ask my flatmate, he’s her personal tutor. Not sure what she studies, though.”

“Oh, that’s great.” He tossed the not-USB-drive to her, “DNA scanner. Should be able to work out if he’s human or not. You’ve just got to get close enough to use it.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” She asked, turning it over in her hands.

“Ask your friend if you can tag along to lectures or something.”

“Oh, great.” Amy replied, sarcastically, “You’re signing me up for mystery lectures with the maybe-alien professor.”

“Try and use it on your flatmates too, if you can.” The Doctor responded, either not picking up on the sarcasm, or deliberately ignoring it. He was messing about trying to wire something into the console, now, though he seemed to be mostly doing a lot of running around and sonicing various things.

Amy looked the device in her hands over. “You should’ve given me this earlier. Would have been easy to use it if I went to that comedy night with Rose-“

There was a clatter, followed by a squealing noise from the sonic, as it protested being dropped.

“Something wrong, Doctor?” Rory peered around the central console, looking concerned.

The Doctor picked up the sonic quickly, trying to brush off his slip-up. “What? No. Fine. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah. Because when someone says ‘fine’ that many times in one sentence, that usually means it’s true. What happened?”

“I had a friend called Rose once, that’s all.” He seemed to be staying at the other side of the console just so he didn’t have to meet their eyes. “Long time ago.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.” Amy said, nothing accusatory in her tone, though she certainly sounded curious.

The Doctor smiled a little, now, in that far off and slightly sad way he did when he was remembering something long since passed. “I don’t always like talking about the people I’ve lost.”

“She sounds special.”

“Oh, she was. Great woman, that Rose Tyler.”

Now, it was Amy’s turn to drop what she was holding.

#thasmin #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #jack harkness #doctor who #madeathing

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osbjorn · 3 years

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Time for a new sticky post.

After some inspiration from around Second Life, we created our blog with newbies and people short on Lindens in mind. We understand that not everyone has tons of Lindens in their account if they have any at all. Not everyone that starts is going to be able to afford nice clothes. After reading a notecard that was in a bundle from Amazing Creations about people being made fun of because they didn’t have nice clothes, really bothered both of us greatly. We’re both seasoned SL users, who decided to come back after being away for a while, we all need a break and a new beginning.

About Us

We are Onyx and Asbjorn. A married couple from the midwest somewhere. If you haven’t noticed from our photos the dark side, you know the place that has the cookies, is where we’re from and where we’ll always be. We don’t mind experimenting with our looks, don’t hesitate to make an offer as a store or an event that wants to work with us (please read the ‘working with us’) tab. Hopefully, in the near future, we'll have some more 'adult' photos for our other blog (we're keeping our Tumblr family-friendly), for those interested.

Below you’ll find a little bit about us separately.

About Asbjorn Username: asbjornosvifsson Age: 36 Gender: Male Sexuality: Bi C lothing Style: Goth, Alternative, and gorey, with or without a bit of androgony Hobbies/Interests: music (on and offline), body mods, horror movies, 420, blood & gore, and tasteful nude photos.

One day I hope to help other male avatars find a fashion that suits them, that doesn’t cost many Lindens. I know it’s tough in Second Life finding free and cheap men’s stuff. It took almost four months of hunting to nail down the look I have now, and I still have a long way to go until I’m satisfied with my ideal finished look.

A wise, but a very handsome man named Cody Fern (you know the antichrist from American Horror Story), one I get compared to online and off more than enough once said, for Louis Vuitton has been my driving force for my individuality on Second Life, he said, ‘Clothes can just be clothes. It’s not shocking for women to wear things that are traditionally masculine, or men to wear things that are traditionally feminine. The lines and the form of the clothing are cut in such a way that it can be worn by anyone.” I can still be a sinister, androgynous weirdo and find more clothes when I open my boundaries.

Beyond the body mods, the tough exterior, and the blood and gore, I’m a huge softy and I wear my heart on my sleeve. Don’t attempt to take advantage of my kindness, because if I find out that someone does so, they are no longer treated with kindness. I’ll treat you with respect until you disrespect me.

I can be a bit of a helpless romantic, even to the point if a shop happens to be free and/or giving out free gift cards. I’m known to go to the store myself just to buy presents for Onyx without spending actual money.

As a forewarning, I can be an annoying, goofball and jackass. Some days Onyx wants to run far far away. Try if I must, but even on Second Life, my strange self shows through. You have my full permission to tell me to sit down and shut up if you need to. I won’t take any offense over it.

My apologies to all of you that don’t like blood or gore, I tend to add a little bit of blood, gore, bruises or whatever to my outfit when I can. Second Life is one of the few times I can express that side of me without freaking out the rest of the public. There are times wherein real life I think it’d be cool to buy some water-activated blood from the internet, and go shopping in the pouring rain just to freak people out, but I can’t imagine how many people I would scare and worry.

Stay spooky my loves!

About Onyx Username: InfectedOnyx Age: 35 Gender: Female Sexuality: Prefers not label my sexuality Clothing Style: Goth, punk, alternative, cute, and boho. Hobbies/Interests: Fashion, 420, creating, writing, and the occult.

Isn’t it funny how a girl can be twisted, alternative, and macabre, but still love to doll up and shop? It’s even nicer to get free clothes, makeup, and hair when shopping. When I’m not out shopping for a new look and finding some really cool freebies, I’m creating. I’m still new to creating, but love learning how to create. I even plan on creating a shop in the near future called Coffin Cuties, it’s a goth/occult shop with clothes and décor. I can’t wait until I’m able to show off more of what I’ve made.

I’m a firm believer in empowering others. This world so tough and so diverse. There should be no reason another person needs to bring someone down. Even in Second Life, nobody needs to be alone or brought down for any reason. It’s another reason why we post as many freebies for men and women alike, it empowers everyone to be themselves if they are a 12-foot tall goblin.

If I’m not on Second Life, I’m the wife of a musician and a parent to both human and furry kids. It may be hard to believe, but in between Second Life, being a parent, being a wife, and being a homemaker, I find time to sleep! I love to sleep and wish I could sleep all the time, but you know sleeping a lot isn’t good and people worry about you more if you love to sleep.

I look forward to getting to learn more about our followers and what they like, so I can tailor my Coffin Cuties to my fellow Coffin Cuties!

#blog intro #sticky #stickypost #about us #osbjorn #black onyx #onyx #coffincuties

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

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Dimitri and mental illness

**Warnings for Blue Lions spoilers and armchair psychology

Depending on who you ask, Dimitri is an innocent sweetheart whose actions are entirely excusable and justified or an unforgivable war criminal and overall terrible character. Arguments for both sides have been exhausted, usually in the form of the popular Edelgard versus Dimitri debate, but I feel that both statements are heavily flawed and, truthfully, I think I take more issue with the former. Does it strike anyone else as rather patronizing that the audience (and the game, to an extent) treats Dimitri like an innocent, broken uwu soft boy both before the time skip and once he begins his recovery arc? Of course, a lot of this can be blamed on the awful pacing and poor writing of said recovery (which is the most valid structural critique of his character imo), but there’s a lot to be said about the fan depiction of Dimitri and the way people treat his mental illness. I think the reason this gets me is because I see it as an extension of the problems I have with the romanticization of male-specific mental illness. In this case, “all depressed boys are emasculated, soft, sad bois” and “anger is an accessory that is vanished once the cute boy takes it off” with the related sentiment of “the only two real mental illnesses are depression and anxiety, with a splash of PTSD for argument's sake”. And, speaking of arguments, while many people bring up mental illness in regards to the discussion around Three Houses characters, it is often supplementary to support their points rather than the main point unto itself. Dimitri’s mental illness (aka, the thing his entire arc is predicated upon) is mostly given only a passing recognition in the discussion of his actions. Even then, it’s often used as a justification to defend or lambaste him.

TL;DR Dimitri is a flawed person with a debilitating and incredibly well written mental illness that, while not excusing his actions, allows for further exploration of his character and a well-deserved shot at a recovery arc that is not usually awarded to people with the “non-traditional” mental illnesses. Furthermore, the game offers a wealth of insight as to what they intended his mental illness to be, the symptoms that manifested, and a plausible background to match up with it all and I have the receipts to prove it. Let’s go~

“Me? Oh. Um. Please forgive me... It's difficult to open up on the spot, don't you think? I'm afraid my story has not been a pleasant one... I do hope that doesn't color your view of me, but I understand if that can't be helped.”

I know that mental illness can be singularly caused by a traumatic event or events. That is, generally, how I see people framing Dimitri’s mental illness. My argument, however, is that the Tragedy of Duscur was not the genesis, but the trigger for issues that would exist otherwise. Perhaps it’s due to my own personal experience with mental illness, but I’m almost always more inclined to believe that issues stem from an unlucky combination of many things.

Regardless, my evidence to entertain the idea that he would be naturally predisposed to mental illness is slim. Aside from arguing that it wouldn’t be out of the question for his mother to have been unwell while she was pregnant with him considering she would later die of plague (a cause that in and of itself is subject to skepticism), I would bring up his Crest. In-game there is clear proof that Crests have wide-reaching effects on the person, there are actually a few analysis posts that hypothesize that Crests could be the reason for certain character motivations. In ng+, the Crest of Blaiddyd is called the Grim Dragon Sign. There’s no definitive proof to point to here, but if his Crest was one of the reasons for his mental deterioration it would follow other rules set in-game. Rather than inherited human genetics creating the blueprint for mental issues and the writers having to face that issue on its own terms, it was the Crest’s influence. This goes along with the fact that the game never overtly references Dimitri’s illness, essentially using “the dead” as a blanket symptom of his problems. Both these things are cool ways to imply a possible way to read more deeply without having to use anachronistic medical terms.

Side note: There’s something uncomfortable about the idea of a Crest that gives the individual inhuman strength and mental issues. Grim Dragon indeed.

My next point is one that I don’t see being brought up too often in regards to how it might have affected Dimitri, likely because the events that came later in his life far overshadow it, but Dimitri lost his mom when he was young. The date is not given, but I think it’d be when he was about six-ish. Admittedly, the timeline is strange and non-specific around here but if that were true, it would mean that the plague, Dimitri’s mother’s death, and Lambert and Rodrigue’s war campaign to subjugate the southern half of Sreng would all have happened around the same time. Dimitri says he doesn’t remember it, but that doesn’t necessarily matter. At six years old he had lost one parent and the other one left him to go on a battle march, leaving this child without any sort of parent figure to console him in a country that is culturally opposed to expressing emotion. Lambert will probably always remain a mystery, but I think it could be fair to say he was a poor father. Or at the very least a distant one. Dimitri was undoubtedly a sensitive child (if we’re to judge by the sensitive person he grew up to be) and during the years where he was actually becoming old enough to remember, he had nobody to teach him how to properly navigate and manage his emotions. Emotional neglect in a child who is predisposed to being emotional and empathetic can leave them suffering from a sense of isolation, an inability to ask for help, and a predisposition to having break downs as they get older.

But three-ish years later, possibly one of the best things that ever would happen to Dimitri came to pass and Lambert married Patricia. Dimitri adored her.

“I share no blood with my stepmother, but to hear you say that... It pleases me greatly. She was the one who raised me. I suppose it makes sense that we would share certain mannerisms.” (Dimitri’s B support with Hapi)

I don’t think Dimitri’s feelings about Patricia can be overstated, as I feel it’s one of the most defining aspects of his reactions to things that happen later on. Dimitri talks about Patricia more lovingly than he talks about Lambert. She was in his life for around four to five years but had such an impact on him that even his mannerisms are similar.

Soon after, a ten-year-old Dimitri made his first friend that wasn’t knightly, who didn’t embody those Faerghus ideals of stifling emotions and swinging swords.

People point out the Faerghus crew as Dimitri’s best friends, and yet Edelgard is the one associated with his best memories. It’s just my own assumptions, but I think that it’s because both Edelgard and Patricia gave Dimitri space to be an emotional child, to not have to be the knightly prince who had no emotions and engaged only in the most masculine of activities. And, I mean, look at them. He’s learning to dance and she’s bossing him around, absolutely no regard for propriety.

It’s pretty clear that Dimitri doesn’t feel romantic feelings towards Edelgard in the academy phase, but I think it would be fair to say she was his first love when they were young. He essentially says this was the best year of his life and establishes Edelgard as someone very precious to him (as well as the daughter of one of the most precious people to him). Strong feelings beget strong feelings, do they not?

Google says that eleven to fourteen is the general age of male puberty. It’s the time that kids begin to more fully define how they’re going to emotionally interact with people and the world at large. Meeting Edelgard was at the cusp of this period of Dimitri’s life, and the Tragedy of Duscur was right in the midst of it.

And we all know what that turned out.

Dimitri’s accounts of what happened during the Tragedy are... conflicting. This CG of an unharmed Dimitri in a field of corpses is... conflicting.

“My father...was the strongest man I knew. Someone I loved and admired deeply. That said, he was killed before my eyes. His head severed clean off. My stepmother, the kindest person I had ever known, left me behind and disappeared into the infernal flames.”

I’ve seen people create a plausible scenario in which Dimitri’s recollection is entirely accurate, where he saw Lambert call for revenge and get beheaded, saw Glenn’s ruined body and face twisted in pain, saw his step-mother disappear into the flames, and all despite the raging chaos of the battle and how people would undoubtedly be targeting the prince, but I think it makes more sense that his memories are unreliable. Dimitri suffered a severe head injury (very important to keep in mind) at Duscur. Maybe that happened early on, after seeing who attacked Lambert but before he was an actual target himself, which merely made him look dead. Maybe he saw a version of the events he described, but through the filter of confused head trauma, smoke inhalation, and intense terror. To think that his recollection isn’t exactly entirely reliable sets a precedent for his later skewed take on reality.

Regardless of opinion, though, the facts are that Dimitri left Duscur with a traumatic brain injury and post-traumatic stress disorder.

After that, from thirteen to seventeen, Dimitri was pretty isolated. Most of the people he cared about were dead. His entire emotional support system (Patricia) was gone. He saved Dedue (although they were definitely not on even terms, that relationship is unbalanced to the extreme) and occasionally saw Rodrigue (who I have no reason to believe was emotionally accommodating in any way considering the way he sees Dimitri as an extension of Lambert to his dying breath). Again, it’s strange. People act like Dimitri was super close friends with the Faerghus crew, that he was surrounded by people who loved him (although it is clear there is a lot of love there), but he never presents things in a way to imply that’s the case. In fact, he highlights his isolation:

“In Duscur, I lost my father, stepmother, and closest friends. I didn't have many allies at the castle after that. In truth, I had only Dedue for companionship.”... “I once had people I could confide in. Family, friends, instructors, even the royal soldiers. But they were all taken away from me four years ago.” (Dimitri’s C support with Byleth.)

Two years passed before the next time Dimitri saw his friends and it was a war campaign, putting down the rebellion in western Faerghus. Dimitri speaks about those battles from a place of deeply affected emotion, expressing empathy, pain, and disgust with his actions and the killing.

“I recall coming across a dead soldier's body. He was clutching a locket. Inside was a lock of golden hair. I don't know to whom it belonged. His wife, his daughter...mother, lover... I'll never know.... in that moment, I realized he was also a real person, just like the rest of us… Killing is part of the job, but even so... There are times when I'm chilled to the bone by the depravity of my own actions.” (Dimitri’s B Support with Byleth)

I love this support, honestly. It’s so very telling about the destructive quality of empathy. Although caring can be a good thing, it’s also arguably one of the most destructive of Dimitri’s qualities. His empathy is what presents him with situations he cannot accept, the thing that pushes him to disassociate from reality so he can be rid of it and fight without remorse like he was taught to do by his father and other soldiers. Dimitri is a man of extremes. Either total control or none, without any room for error. This dialogue is also the first time Dimitri brings up reconciling himself with reality and hints to the fact that he has been unable to do so. This is contrasted perfectly in this line from Felix,

“The way you suppressed that rebellion... It was ruthless slaughter and you loved every second. I remember the way you killed your victims. How you watched them suffer. And your face...that expression. All the world's evil packed into it...” (Dimitri’s C Support with Felix)

Dimitri doesn’t deny this. Just like all of the other terrible things Felix says, he takes it without protesting in an act of what I think is stilted contrition. Although, it’s not just in supports that Dimitri’s contrasting behavior is brought up. The Remire incident probably works as a good reference for what Felix saw all those years back.

This is the first time we see Dimitri’s darker side in full. The similarities in the situation to what is shown to have happened in the Tragedy of Duscur are interesting. The fire, the utter chaos, strange figures watching it all from above. This is another case of a perfect disaster. I wonder if his ultimate snap would have been so destructive if not for Remire.

Anyway, this draws parallels to his and Felix’s separate recall of the rebellion because later Dimitri apologizes.

“Professor... I...I'm sorry you saw that side of me in the village… When I saw the chaos and violence there...my mind just went completely dark.”

Dimitri is unreliable. A lack of control, a separation of self, and becoming consumed by a dark rage only to come to his senses later, full of shame and a sense of confusion about why. From my own experience, it’s not unnatural to come out of an episode like this without being able to explain what was happening and being baffled by your behavior. This firmly establishes Dimitri’s uncomfortably fast mood shifts in relation to his trauma from the Tragedy and confirms all of the warnings Felix had given. When Dimitri was faced with a reality he could not accept, he lost control of his emotions and his mental state shifted to adapt accordingly.

This is when I’d also like to note something interesting about how Dimitri discusses his trauma. He is very honest and open about his experiences, explaining exactly what happened to him to Byleth. However, he uses the truth to hide. In recounting the events of the Tragedy of Duscur, in talking about how his family died and saying how badly it hurt him, he does not make himself vulnerable. When he admits weakness, he does so in the past tense or apologetically, vowing to be stronger. “Stronger”, aka, he’ll be better in suppressing his emotions.

“I always strive to keep my emotions at bay, but... Sometimes the darkness takes hold and...it's impossible to suppress. It just shows you how lacking I am... I have much to learn.”

Dimitri lies by using the truth, shoving down his feelings, and blaming himself rather than attempting to figure out how to handle his emotions. In his own words:

“Everyone has something that is unacceptable within them. I certainly do, and I'd wager you do as well. I wonder which is best, Professor... To cut away that which is unacceptable, or to find a way to accept it anyway...”

Good advice Dimitri. Might want to keep that in mind.

It is at this point is when I’m going to get into my personal thoughts and armchair psychiatry nonsense.

First off, when I mentioned earlier about “non-traditional” mental illness, I did not mean abnormal or rare. Although people mostly just point to Dimitri having PTSD (and depression) as the source of his issues, I’m going to use all of my above information to make the (decently common) argument that Dimitri is schizophrenic, which is, contrary to popular belief, not too unusual. I state that with the caveat that I understand that there’s a lot to be said about schizophrenia and the tumultuous relationship between mental health and fiction. However, now is not really the time to go into mental health politics and representation or the many lies spread about the illness so instead, I recommend that you read into the topic if you’re personally interested (This has some good information).

At the very least be aware that this IS sensationalized.

That said, Dimitri does not, to my understanding using grossly simplified terms, meet the qualifications generally (very generally) used to diagnose schizophrenia through the majority of the White Clouds chapters. These qualifying symptoms include, but are not limited to, the duration of the psychotic episode, the concurrent presence of hallucinations and delusions, and a greatly lowered ability to keep up with basic quality-of-life tasks. You only see these symptoms in the final chapter of White Clouds and the first few of Azure Moon. This isn’t unusual, however, because schizophrenia manifesting fully in younger individuals is extremely uncommon, sometimes taking years to trigger during a person’s late teens. And since the diagnosis generally relies on the occurrence of a psychotic episode, it can be mistaken as other mood disorders. Actually, the idea of him having a mood disorder was one of the things that caught my eye originally. Prodromal symptoms such as depression, irritability, headaches, sleep disruption, and mood swings are common in bipolar disorder (and, of course, schizophrenia).

Still, I don't deny that Dimitri has PTSD and depression, only that I don’t think PTSD is his main (or only) issue. In reality, PTSD and schizophrenia are closely tied. They share many symptoms, even the symptom of psychosis. There’s also evidence that those with genetic precedent to develop PTSD overlap with those at risk for schizophrenia, and that the nature of PTSD triggers can act as a severe stressor to aggravate a schizophrenic episode.

(From here)

This falls into the realm of being uncertain where one ends the other begins, highlighting the lack of concrete understanding about schizophrenia and the dependency of diagnosis and treatment to rely entirely on the individual experience, but that’s not a conversation I’m actually qualified to have.

The study that truly caught my eye and while researching for this was one called “Psychiatric disorders and traumatic brain injury”. As I mentioned, at some point during the Tragedy, Dimitri sustained severe head trauma. We know this because of his development of the rare inability to taste called ageusia. I was originally interested in following this narrative thread because, as you might know if you follow true crime cases, there are many murderers who recall having sustained a head injury as children. Not that Dimitri shares similar psychology to people that kill and eat their victim's feet... Although his body count is higher. Besides that, head trauma, in general, is known to be linked to mental illness and altering a person’s behavior. There is even a correlation between TBI (traumatic brain injury) and schizophrenia.

From the study I linked above:

To put it more simply, patients in the study who had suffered TBI and developed schizophrenia reported that their most common symptoms were delusions of persecution, auditory hallucinations, and aggressive behaviors. The auditory hallucinations were often voices. Many of the subjects experienced psychotic episodes two or more years after the initial incident (although, as I mentioned, Dimitri’s age could also have something to do with the timing as children rarely have fully developed schizophrenic episodes). Furthermore, the behaviors classified as an absence of normal behaviors called “negative symptoms” (which include apathy and disordered speech) were rare in this testing group.

Dimitri exclusively displays “positive” symptoms of schizophrenia (“positive” meaning the presence of symptoms such as hallucinations and delusions). He also clearly suffers from delusions of persecution in his belief that Edelgard is the sole instigator of Duscur and the war and that he immediately accuses Byleth of being an Imperial spy upon meeting them post time skip. I think it’s pretty fascinating how closely Dimitri’s symptoms follow the outline of the study, especially with the aggressive behaviors, as those aren’t actually very common in schizophrenics.

In very, very simplistic terms, if I’m right and Dimitri was born with the genetic blueprint for schizophrenia/PTSD (through Crests, inheritance, or environmental causes) and later suffered severe head trauma in an event that also gave him PTSD in combination with his pre-existing parental issues and stilted emotional development, then this could definitely create the type of person who loses all sense of reality, can’t control his emotions, and is prone to episodes of murderous rage when being reminded of the trigger (however tangentially) of losing everything he loved.

However, I’ll add real quick that the study I mentioned should be taken with a grain of salt.

I use it mainly because I thought the similarities were interesting and it shows that there was more thought put into Dimitri than maybe people appreciate.

This brings us to my final point; Some kind of twisted joke.

A major point I saw being made as proof of how terrible Dimitri is as a character was that he blamed Edelgard for the Tragedy of Duscur (a time where she would have been twelve). More accurately, he blamed her for everything that had happened and the thing is, I don’t disagree with that critique entirely. However, this is a case of him being a bad person, not a bad character. This might seem like an odd distinction, but I think it changes the scope of deserved criticism.

As I’ve been trying so desperately to illustrate, Dimitri snapping wasn’t just because of Edelgard being revealed as the Flame Emperor. Rather, it was an unlucky combination of many things. His grasp and interpretation of reality were already hazy at best by the time she was unmasked, slowly falling apart as his prodromal symptoms worsened. Going into the fight, he believed the Flame Emperor to be responsible in whole or in part for the worst thing that had ever happened to him, guessed at Arundel’s involvement, had found (and lied about) the dagger, and was rapidly mentally deteriorating. While Dimitri suspected Edelgard’s involvement to some degree, he did his best to act like it wasn’t true.

Dimitri didn’t want it to be true. To the extent that he was willing to lie to Byleth (and to himself) to avoid reality. He cared deeply about Edelgard. The best year of his life was spent with her, she was his first love, and she was the daughter of the step-mother he adored. Strong feelings beget strong feelings, do they not? This reveal confronted Dimitri with something that he could not accept, so his mind sidestepped the issue altogether. Delusion convinced him that all of the fears and worries he had beforehand were related, all into one larger delusion that Edelgard had sole responsibility. It’s not right and maybe not even excusable, but it falls in line with everything else.

Edelgard and Dimitri. Bound by some twisted fate but forever doomed to be separated, unable to understand the other’s chosen path.

I do recognize the flaws of Dimitri’s character and arc. There are some pretty major flaws. I have parts of a post typed out about his shoddy recovery and how I’d fix it that, hopefully, one day will see the light of day as well as many complaints about the way the story is hindered by the need for flexibility to accommodate gameplay and a happy ending.

But, despite that, this has all been a very long-winded way of praising Dimitri’s writing. His mental illness has a surprising amount of depth and I loved studying it as intently as I did. I learned a lot about his character as well as about mental illness in general.

Ultimately, Dimitri is neither an innocent sweetheart whose actions are entirely excusable and justified or an unforgivable war criminal and overall terrible character. You can feel bad for his pain and his struggle with his illness and understand that as a reason for his actions, but you shouldn’t use it as justification. He had the opportunity to seek help before things got too bad. He was selfish with the mismanagement of his emotions and goals. However, he also was a victim. Dimitri worked to recover and mend the mistakes he made while he was unwell, which is a side of this mental illness that is rarely shown in media.

I wholeheartedly believe that, love him or hate him, Dimitri is the most well-written of the Three Houses characters,

#dimitri #fe dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fire emblem 16 #fire emblem #FE3H #fire emblem three houses #i spent an ungodly amount of time on this feel free to share your thoughts

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corvidamned · 3 years

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@the-arkham-librarian | 💘 What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it?

...She’s always saying it.

• “--perhaps you can lend me your features to model for a portrait. I do paint.” • “--And if my company remains up to par, I would like to call on you--visit” • "I wish I knew where you've seen me before you chose to follow me the second you saw me again." • "I want you to know me but I'll have you know...I'm not for the faint of heart." • “Having dinner, a little drawing salon, and finding the perfect time to kiss you." • “Ordinary is out of the question, and plans are useless. But people… people can stay to grow beside each other. Stay with me…” • "I'd rather it'd be you to direct my attention back to the mission than if they ever found out I'd been consumed by..." • "Just how they look. When you gesture. Or while you're working." • "Hands to hold or ought to be held." • "I belong with you. I am not protected. Or looked after. I trust you to find your way back to your dreams. And, I belong with you…” • “I don't hide who I am around him... He knows where I come from, so he knows what I’ve lost, so he knows what I’ve done to prove myself worthy of even having a name.” • "Don't forget to pair ties with their matching pocket square or handkerchief. And some of the waist coats do have laces if you require more cinching." • “Because you were under the impression I would swallow you up as soon as you walked through the door. And while that is my favorite pastime, there is the pressing matter at hand--” • “We’ll grab breakfast. Then we’ll get a hotel over in D.C. where we’ll have a look at the Smithsonian. And maybe, possibly, introduce you to a new friend of mine.” • "Man of many talents…" • "Everywhere you've been is someplace I'd like to see." • “I adore you. I want to give you the strength to reclaim more of your life. I want you in mine.” • "Do you think I'll be late back?" • “I like you because we’re the same. We killed those who ‘stole our solitude without offering us true company.’ We hold this world accountable for the things that make monsters of us all. We want our life back and all the things that were promised and ripped away.” • "It's still mine to give. But it’s safer with you." • "So many people don't know the meaning of the word loyalty. It's all I've ever wanted. And I'm not your type of dandy but--I am your weapon, your family, your witness. It would bring me nothing but joy to watch you flourish. Get out more. Go on a date." • "I've time off, as scheduled. Did you? Did you want to come with?" • “--And there are people in my life that I’d miss being around.” • “I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I think my whole world would just stop.” • “You’re my lighthouse. What hope is there for me in these dark waters if your light goes out? And, how could I ever forgive myself if someone with a cause more destructive than remedying, more obsessive than educational, snuffed it out?” • “You know you’re my best friend, right? I don’t know if you’ve got anyone you can go to about the real things–” • “I just want you to know I’m going to be here for every breakdown or breakthrough, for the rest of your life and if your family should have me, long after you’re gone.” • "I can't show you the future. But I can show you what I see." • "You're sexy when you're negotiating." • “Do you mind if I shadow you on this call?” • “Try.” • “Grumpy.” • “You really made it. Will there be a baby shower? Am I invited?” • "Can I have you?" • “I have something else for you, darling. So you could come by, stay whenever you like.” • “I’m never alone in your world, my love. But I am, yours.” • “You’re so...cool.” • “If you’re worried about another off encounter, I could vet people, find out what they’re into, or even talk through your specific do’s and dont’s. I could book, or I can stay to watch.” • “You’re the boss.” • “I can’t lose you... I’d kill the world just to get you back.” • "She's so beautiful…Has she eaten?" • “Or at least know that I tried while I build my future with you." • “I’m your doll. “ • “Tu es l'amour de ma vie et je te garderai à l'esprit pour toujours.” • ”I'm giving you my secrets because we're the same... terrible victim.” • "I couldn't save you. And you couldn't have been the better man for me any earlier.” • "We can go again." • “I believe you.” • “I’m going to eat your tears. And swallow the rest of you.” • “Just turn me over.” • “As it should be... My wonderful idealist.” • "Five minutes intervals, darling. Stay with me." • “Come back…Breathe for me.” • “I can’t diagnose, I can only pull this beautiful body back together. But, you know who can.” • “I do think that’s all I’ve ever wanted, to know someone completely.” • “Oh my goodness--Can I at least buy you dinner first? We’re skipping steps. We’re doing this all out of order.” • “Yes, I think-- I'll take good care of you.” • "Oui. Just you and me. Airport's massive in Paris. It can get a little confusing, but there's shuttles straight to the hotel and taxis to all the tourist spots. We'll shop and fill our heads with art and forget all our little worries for a few days. Shall we pack?” • “Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a parlor, a library, a basement and a wine cellar. A garden, overgrown and dried out with time. And a forest just beyond here. I'm thinking of buying it." • "I don't know if I'm anything like what you might've dreamed about. But in all my nights, you are…the one. The kind I could only describe when everyone else named their crushes." • She’s somewhere between drifting on the verge of napping, and doing something about her hand resting heavy on his thigh, when his hand, navigating her curls, long and peppered with strands of white, causes her to purr. • “There we are. I’ll always be able to find you. And I’ll always know how you feel.” • “You’re in my heart. Let your imagination stir a while. Might get the wrong idea if I have you as a stranger. I want to be in yours...” • "Are you hurt?" • "Well, you are adorable." • “I don’t want...you running off again. If it’s all too much to put into your own words?” • “You’re welcome to a shower, and a change of clothes. I’ll see what I can do about the coat. And you can take the bed. I’ll guard.” • “I looked for you.” • "Shall we play one of your games?" • “Everywhere. The mundane. The impossible. The deepest caves, entry only by water. The highest peaks, too cold for humans but not us. Great forests no one dared to build a cabin in. Realms of hell you have unfinished business in. My family's home on a parallel Earth, if such a thing is even possible." • “You’ll be safe with me. Are you hungry?" • “And you’ll never be alone again.” • “You’re strong.” • “I don't ever intend to misunderstand you."

#hc #relationships #being demi be like

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hairphones · 3 years

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Why Libra is my favorite FE character

(if anyone knows the artist here it’d be appreciated to mention it)

Fire Emblem has plenty of characters people give a shit about. Most of the time it’s going to the lords or any of the really popular “waifu” characters, but in recent time I’ve found people who love all kinds of people in the franchise. The best thing about FE’s characters is there’s bound to be at least 1 person in here that you’ll consider cool. Despite there a lot of reoccurring archetypes I’m willing to say FE is still able to make something that feels unique in each game, even if not necessarily good. Anyways, for me one character who’s stuck out is of course the guy in the title, Libra. I’m always kind of weirded out this guy isn’t anymore popular than he actually is. Awakening is one of the most successful games that had a cast full of characters that ended up being way too popular for their own good. And yet, Libra is one of the few Awakening characters that doesn’t exactly get to enjoy the limelight like the other part of the cast back then. With that being said though I’ve found him to be one of the most interesting in the game and as you can read in the title he’s just flat out my favorite. I guess the best way for me to start is him as a unit.

Libra comes in as one of the more unique classes in the series, war monk. As a prepromote most people probably skipped over what’s given to you here despite what honestly is a pretty solid no investment unit. I say this from his C staff rank and his fairly balanced stats that lets him handle himself quite well for the first few battles he can fight in. Of course I gotta be realistic, Libra is no way a character who’s going to stay good at defending himself. Awakening’s real emphasis of making your units snowball means that ignoring to train Libra will only really leave him as nothing more than a staffbot, and even with training a glaring flaw is that Libra is too balanced for his own good to really specialize in anything unlike the other units. Another flaw comes from his rather limited class pool that leads to Sage and Dark Knight taking up spots in multiple class trees. This does give him access to helpful skills such as vengence or lifetaker, but unless you plan to grind only Libra I wouldn’t call it optimized to constantly reclass and train him. I’m in no way a hardcore FE fan that takes into account how units play in the challenge runs such as LTCs/Ironmans/Low recruitment, but I think it’s safe to assume that Libra’s overall performance will come in as primarily a support unit. But of course, judging him on his numbers isn’t my focus here.

I want to start off talking about Libra’s character with what you can already see from his design. It’s no surprise that most fans make the connection to Libra and other designs such as Lucius from FE7, another favorite of mine. In-game there’s a gag involving him looking female to other characters. However while his face is feminine, he’s actually rather tall and with a masculine frame. As one of the tamer Awakening designs I actually quite like his outfit as it perfectly fits with war monk ( I know crazy). Though you can chalk that up to being biased.

Hell on first appearances you’re most likely ready to assume this character is going to be a born again christian character with the only joke being he’s actually a male judging from the recruit conversation. The fact Awakening has it’s share of running jokes among party members definitely could lead to you assuming there’s nothing interesting about this guy. Yet, shouldn’t the fact he wields a weapon (as opposed to the usual magic tomes these sort of characters use) surprise you? and an axe at that? Lemme emphasis that, why an axe?

Sure FE has this tradition of the 3 main weapon types, but has it ever been used to add character? Not exactly, but it has been part of character archetypes for quite a while.

Think about what kind of character uses swords: The lords, the brave mercenary leader, the heroes, the flashy edgelords that become swordmasters. Swords almost always play a role as the legendary weapon made to save the day in FE games (as well as any jrpg). The sword will always be a symbol of courage in just about any video game.

(this screencap is low quality to stay consistent with the speaker)

How about lances: As far as FE goes the lance is primarily the weapon held by the jaigen archetype and the main weapon for the more chivalrous units such as cavaliers, knights, and soldiers. The kind of characters associated with these are often the diligent or experienced members of the army. You also have the usual flying trio of characters that range from happy go lucky to those that take the situation seriously.

Now what about axes? These weapons are more often than not held by the lower class characters. Hired fighters, bandits, pirates. These characters aren’t ever bad, but they’re not exactly fighting out of heroism or for their nation. In fact these characters are the most down to earth in the grand scheme of an army full of anime characters. Maybe not sooo much in Awakening’s case with Vaike, but every single one of these weapon types have their exceptions. Also wanna mention that one of the most (in)famous weapons in the series is called the fucking Devil Axe.

Going back to Libra, why would a character like him hold onto an axe when it’s pretty apparent he’s more of a gentle character? Why the weapon type that’s the most violent looking of the triangle? Obvious reason is purely gameplay reasons involving the odd design the war monk class is, but looking at it from a literary perspective only makes it look off (especially with the female clerics). This is also something to wonder if you take into consideration his C ranking, implying he’s at least somewhat experienced. Not to mention his high stats for that point in the game.

For better or worse this kind of mystery isn’t exactly answered in the base game of Awakening. However there’s some interesting conversations that’s found in the Summer Scramble DLC that gives an idea. Specifically the one with Lon’qu.

Lon’qu catching onto the dissonance of Libra’s appearance to his skill. The first conversation is only Libra claiming there’s no reasoning behind any of it. however the second conversation has Libra open up to talk about himself more.

As you see there’s no explicit answer to what kind of “darkness” Libra has ever committed before the events of FE:A, but given Lon’qu is the one to take notice of Libra’s supposed bloodlust the implication isn’t going to be anything peaceful. In fact, it’s that violent nature that gets questioned in another conversation in this same DLC.

Again, this conversation feels more important to take note of given what character is talking to Libra. In this case it’s the hyperviolent character who takes comfort in bloodshed (at least in the western release, perhaps Henry is different in Japan?). Either way, this conversation goes hand and hand with the Lon’qu one in a pretty easily. That is to conclude that Libra himself has had a pretty rough past filled with who knows what, and that past version of himself was most likely not justifying any murders as if justification was even something to consider. The Libra you meet in-game is of course still capable of killing, but it’s extremely obvious he has a concept of remorse.

There’s no reason given anywhere as to what changes this man to become the benevolent priest. Though really I think it’s better that Libra keeps it consistent with revealing almost none of the causes in his life and instead only showing the effects. Filling in the blank is not a new thing for FE characters, in fact fans of older games in the franchise seem to really enjoy that aspect quite a lot.

Still, even the current Libra understands himself to not be a person devoid of guilt or sin. A few supports touch upon this aspect such as the one with Sully.

Libra’s doubt that he’s anywhere close to being considered a good man in the fact of the gods adds something that I absolutely love: having skepticism to one’s own morality. There’s something important to follow up this with how Libra views morality in battles in one of the supports with Gaius.

Even as a supposed man of faith he refuses to deny that living a fight against the different nations in Awakening is just a matter of being on the side that’s doing more killing. Take away all the politics of any war and you’ll find people who are simply fighting for the right to keep on living. It’s what considered “just human”. I also find this conversation to be a little more profound given that is the same franchise where one of the biggest features is permadeath. These characters put their faith in their gods to escape death another day while the average player is the one avoiding death altogether.

Finally, a support with Tharja concludes mostly everything learned so far. Where she explores Libra’s memories only to find there was no peaceful childhood.

A newfound devotion to a religion isn’t treated as a fix to a life full of cruelty. To be a good person to many doesn’t absolve you of the terrible things you’ve done to others.. I’m sure this kind of topic has been explored in FE games before or after and in countless other video games/movies/books/pieces of media as well, taking away the religion part of course. Nonetheless the introduction to this kind of thinking to a 13 year old version of me had me really second guessing back then, and it still comes up to me from time to time. Sure I’ve done what’s considered “good” but will it ever outweigh any terrible things I’ve also done? Even today I can’t pretend I have an answer to that, and that’s just only thinking of what I’ve gone through personally.

To wrap it up though, there’s his ending card.

For such a simple ending it really brings out the fanboy in me. The entire game is filled with Libra having his doubts of being a good person according to himself and to the gods he worships. To end his story with him being believed to be a reincarnation of Naga due to his reformed nature just feels so sweet to me.

As much as I wish more characters could have a similar air to them in newer games, I get it’s just not really everyone’s preference. Fire Emblem is always going to be a series of good guys vs bad guys also dragons and with that comes making new characters for fans to get attached to. Still though, I really appreciate the attempt done with Libra. Once again the best thing about this franchise is everybody can find at least 1 character they love, they don’t even need to be playable.

I understand not everyone is going to grind supports to see everything a character has to say (especially not in newer FE games), but as you can see nearly all the nuance of this character was hidden away in dialogue. In a game full of joke characters and tropes, it is refreshing to see a character who acknowledges their own flaws and isn’t played for laughs. I didn’t write all of this to try to convince anyone in some clickbait manner like “THE DEEPEST FE CHARACTER INTELLIGENT SYSTEMS HID FROM YOU” or anything. Nah, I’m sure I sound like I’ve repeated myself many times here. But all of this was to attempt to put into words why I’ll stay with my opinion that Libra is my favorite FE character for being a reformed character done right. And for the fact that uncovering the secrets of this guy affected me personally all the way back from when I was a lot younger. And honestly a large part of it really stems from how Libra is in no way a major character, yet he clearly had a lot of thought put into him.

For anyone that bothered to read all of this I wanna thank you. Whether you liked it or not is up to you, no hard feelings. I know all this is the definition of “reading too much into it”, but I consider speculation on writing to be fun. Anyways hope I didn’t take too much of your time and have a nice day

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tothedarkdarkseas · 3 years

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D'you feel like Gorillaz has become more gentrified? Like, they've really reversed a lot of the character design from Phase 1 imo. I can sort of see where "soft boy Stu" is coming from; looking at Humility versus Tomorrow Comes Today, there has been a huge departure of character. Same with Noodle (who is showing more cleavage than any other phase) and Murdoc (who seems to take himself MUCH less seriously). What do you think?

Hi anon! This has been tough for me to answer because there’s such a tension in the fandom right now, and as ever, I’m sort of the most useless type of person who falls a bit in the middle. I’m just doing a bit of stream of consciousness here, so I’m sorry if it’s ever unclear!

To start, I want to clarify that I do understand what you mean by “gentrification” in a more colloquial media setting like this, and I don’t want to seem pedantic, or like I’m picking on you or disagreeing-- but for me, “gentrified” is not really the word I would use to describe Gorillaz. Again, that isn’t me try to point to the dictionary and contest the meaning on paper, words evolve with us as our usage of them evolves, and in this context I’d infer it as meaning the project is being made more profitable for white and upper-class voices at the chief cost of devaluing marginalized people. Now, I know we’re talking about the characters here, but... Gorillaz is always a bit weird to talk about because it’s such a multi-faceted project, and I do have some regretful feelings that the work of hundreds of people often goes dismissed in the full scale of the “is Gorillaz bad actually” conversation. I do apologize if it seems like I’m willfully misconstruing the question to push the subject, I promise that isn’t my intent and I’ll get back on topic-- it’s just something I’d like to express some appreciation over while we’re discussing the good and bad of the project. There aren’t many bands in existence, and none on their level of mainstream fame in the English-language market, who bring this many POC artists to the forefront, heavily featuring not just superstar crossover collaborators but smaller indie or unknown artists performing on a larger stage without being asked to compromise the culture in their music. The fact that Song Machine has three non-English languages featured on different tracks, including Xhosa, is pretty cool and not something you often stumble across. That doesn’t mean the band, real or fictional, is perfect by any stretch-- but I’ve never gotten the sense that the collaborators are being used by Gorillaz or asked to follow only what they’re told, but that the band backs the collaborators in making the music they bring to them.

I recognize that’s not entirely on topic for this question, but it’s sort of aimed at the broader conversations happening right now I guess. Like, we’ve all been seeing a lot of strong feelings about the band by now, haven’t we? So er, y’know, hot on the heels of this album, I just wanted to ramble about my opinion on the band’s side of it, and whether Gorillaz as a band has lost what makes them special. As far as the music goes, no, I don’t personally feel that way, so I’m still pretty jazzed on this album.

As for whether the characters have been moving in reverse or stagnating-- I’d have to agree, yes, I look at soft boy Stu and it feels pandering. That isn’t necessarily to discount that anything of value has come from Gorillaz since then, they’re just... rather inconsistent. Truthfully, it’s difficult to speak to because I do have to take into account that my vision of the characters isn’t really entirely in-line with canon, even the older canon, but is much less so with the newer stuff. I can’t say there aren’t moments that have frustrated me, between art or interviews-- and it’s the things I know earn me ire to express because it is a selfish want, it’s the cute stuff people like that I often don’t, and so I have to step back and assess what is an objectively (or as close to objective as we’ll get) disagreeable direction, and what simply doesn’t gel with what I want the characters to be. I think it’s very often the latter, but of course there’s part of me-- as there is with near everyone in the fandom-- who thinks that something I really dislike is inarguably not as compelling. On the flipside, there have been bits scattered here and there that did gel with my ideas of the characters (this refers primarily to Stu and Murdoc) that seemed completely reviled and rejected when they happened. Er, so the wishy-washy thing I’m getting at is: yes, Gorillaz is surely different. In particular Stu is written and drawn quite differently, to the extent that there is a completely fractured image in the fandom of what “in character” means for him, and I’m not always happy with everything we get. I’ve had to just “distance” myself from canon-- which, to be quite honest, even though this is a popular mindset with shippers I don’t actually say it with much pride. I do have a sense of embarrassment at how it sounds for me to say it “doesn’t matter” if it’s in-character when I guess I’ve wished that I was... I don’t know, doing some kind of good and thoughtful thing for the character and his potential, rather than just writing him as an OC, which is what it increasingly looks like I’m doing. (Hell, it increasingly is what I’m doing, and I don’t love to feel that way but in the effort of honesty I do recognize it.) For Murdoc, I don’t personally mind his presentation nearly as much, though I can see how he’s leaning more cartoony by the day. While there were some missed opportunities for better Debunked sessions, better interviews, or better videos, I haven’t been totally wrong-footed by him either. At worst, the jokes we’ve gotten from him have felt a bit toothless, and at best I’ve also felt like there were some winners in there. I’d be glad to simply ignore the “plot” around the portals, but even when engaging with it, I can see the idea behind having Murdoc aimlessly chase them-- maybe for profit, maybe for control, maybe just because they exist around him and it is his core driving need to take and to have. That isn’t to say it’s handled as well as it could be, but I sort of just... look past it to be frank with you, haha. It hasn’t been spoiling me on Murdoc, I suppose. That’s just my own feeling, though.

I’m staying optimistic that the almanac will have some funny Murdoc bits, but I’m more nervous about Stu’s parts of it. I have hopes and fingers crossed, but I also have a lot of fear based on the direction Stu’s gone in for a while now. Yes, it does bum me out quite a lot, I admit. Hope springs eternal, though, and I do still perhaps foolishly believe that Jamie and the writers have a bit more love for mumbling, zombie-faced, “a bit thick” laddish Stu than they do for the soft boy and they might make some efforts to give us something. Touch wood.

If I’m being honest though, despite taking issue with a lot of choices I haven’t lost my love of Gorillaz as a project partly because I sort of think we’ve had rose-tinted glasses toward previous phases, and there is some extent of editorializing that goes on about the band’s history. I think Gorillaz’s plot writing now is pretty bad, but I also think Gorillaz’s plot writing has always been pretty bad. I think it rides on the characters like it has always ridden on the characters, and it is uneven in that respect because it has always been uneven. I think these statements-- that it is worse now, and that it is not actually a steep decline-- both feel true for me, but I can’t say how true they feel for you! And that’s alright! Just my two cents. It’d be a lie to say I’m thrilled with everything over the past two years or so, but it’d also only be hurting myself to lean into the frustration and force myself to become more upset if I have the ability to compartmentalize and make my peace.

#long post #this isn't meant to step on toes! i just have some compacted feelings... which i shove down because i still enjoy a good joke #thank you for the question anon! i hope you know that i was not aiming to disagree or put words in your mouth!#Anonymous #i keep trying to insert a read more and it just isn't working so i'm v sorry about that

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furyfought · 3 years

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abernathy is a small town, surely you’ve met AGATHA KLEIN ; they can be a little IRREVERENT & OPPORTUNISTIC but have no fear , the TWENTY SEVEN year old definitely makes up for it by being IMPISH & SENSITIVE . most of the time anyway . they’re usually seen around KLEIN & ASSOCIATES, LLC , as a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY . you know, i hear they’re affiliated with the local mc, iron kings as an ATTORNEY . they’ve got this vibe of A HEART GROWN RAVENOUS, A CYANIDE CENTER ENCAPSULATED BY SACCHARINE FRUIT, AND A SOUL IN THE FORM OF A SCRIBBLE WITH FANGS going on , makes them easily recognizable.

loosely inspired by jennifer check (jennifer's body), wendy byrde (ozark), ginger fitzgerald (ginger snaps), elizabeth sloane (miss sloane), john silver (black sails), & BBHMM.

+ pinterest, stats.

hey, friends. i’m devin (or dev) & very tickled to be here. agatha’s a combination of two of my favorite muses, and i can only hope that you’ll love her as much as i do. 🤎

"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐍𝐎. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓."

agatha’s story isn’t one that she likes to tell anymore. she feels it’s useless: to be defined by the actions of others, to attempt to battle the preconceived notions that run rampant regardless of what one says or does. she doesn’t want to beg for understanding anymore, or to claw her way from beneath the filth she’s made of her life. all that most know is all that she can bear to have known. the rest? it’s confetti; a meager concession in a game of chess. if you know her, is that a fact or a weapon to be used against her?

when it comes to the stories that can be told, however.. perhaps the most important is background. agatha’s an abernathy native: raised in grandiose park, flew the coop for college, only to settle back down in bordeaux apartments. klein & associates, llc. has been in her family for generations, each forefather serving increasingly questionable clients. agatha’s life, like that of many kleins before her, was already planned before she’d ever even been a thought in her parents’ minds. under her mother’s rule, there wasn’t any room for straying from that path. agatha would be smart; she would be clean; and she would be, without fail, someone. in other words, she would be her perfect replica. imagine the disappointment when agatha was anything but.

agatha’s childhood can be summed up by three things: a door slammed shut in her face, an ear-piercing howl, and the chronic longing to go home — wherever that was. it’s another thing she doesn’t talk about, another thing she tries not to think about. those three things have followed her into adulthood, but they’ve taken different forms now. no longer is agatha a child screaming her throat raw — no; now, she cries out in other more productive ways. if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that she’s a woman grown; the past is behind her, buried in the sand where it belongs. the truth is trickier, less absolute. agatha is a child in the form of a woman; forever in the midst of a metamorphosis, unsure if for better or worse. she lacks foresight & lives largely in the now. she can’t imagine a future for herself and her choices in life reflect that.

agatha succeeds because she’s pretty, powerful, and convincing. wherever she falls short, her father is sure to more than make up for it. it’s amazing what people will do for the right price, and when they want to keep certain secrets from ever seeing the light. nepotism & immense privilege have done wonders for her, but she does.. actually work hard, too. she has an incredible memory & is really good at digging for more information & making her case. if she tells you that she’s going to do something, then she’s going to do it right no matter what. she’s dogged in that way, blinded to the outside world by her stubbornness. she works long hours & values her career above all else. she thinks it’s the only sure thing she has & views it as the one stable, secure thing in her life.

agatha is lonely to the point of defect. she lacks a sense of security in her life, which is why she’s so career-focused. she genuinely thinks that the only person ever looking out for her is her dad. she becomes very predictable once you realize that she will always pick the winning team; that she will forever follow the money; and that she is always going to make the decision that most benefits her. that isn’t to say that she doesn’t have any friends omg, but.. she doesn’t really trust easily. if she trusts you and considers you near and dear to her heart, then she’ll choose you. but until she has that reassurance? you’re on your own, bro.

but like.. you literally would not know that unless you got burned by her. agatha is really good at listening and really good at playing parts for people. the thing with having no story is that she’s free to create her own. if you need a hero, she can be that. if you need a villain, she can definitely be that. she’s eerily good at getting chummy enough to make people think she’s close, only for them to realize.. they don’t actually know anything real about her? fun stuff.

i think.. her entire life is a vie for power while also wanting to let go of that desire while also being afraid of what might happen if she were to let go of that desire. she’s not tht bad. she can play decent, be a guy’s guy. and she does come off tht way. it’s jus.. underneath there’s tht like .. tht rot tht she can’t scrub away. n it rears its ugly little head smtimes. but. :^) she can be cool n shoot the shit u kno.. heheh.

anyway.. lighter stuff<3 puts the gaslight and gatekeep in girlboss. talks just like her daddy, except for when she’s in the courtroom. egocentric without ever meaning to be. (spoiler: it’s a smoke screen.) she can, must, and will find a way to twist your words into something she can make sense of. believes in mixed drink supremacy. will absolutely smoke all of your weed + play dumb about hogging the blunt. plays dumb a lot actually, until it’s time to be smart. she’s touchy-feely, but freezes up whenever someone touches her. stares — a lot. can’t ever be the person to pick you up after a rough night out, because she’s likely there with you egging you on to do one more shot. every event is a tits out event / she has to be the most overdressed person in the convenience store at all times. can, must, and will be your unsolicited sugar momma. YOU SPIL-DBFDHFDJHBF LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG? energy. thinks everything is a competition because it is. if she loved you once then she loves you forever. thinks going 20 over the speed limit isn’t speeding, actually. a bit of an emotional anarchist. can’t actually take what she’ll dish out. teases u if she likes u. teases u if she doesn’t like u. doesn’t care abt the feud as long as she’s gettin’ tht shmoney. big fan of an emotional sucker punch.

"𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋." + below are some ideas open to any & all muses no matter the age, gender, affiliation, etc !

i’ve left how she got involved with the mc totally absent from this intro bc i was hoping to plot it out! i’d love it if someone wanted to be her “in”. could be they were a childhood friend in need of help, a client she got close to, jus smth tht happened by chance.. whtever we come up with works! <3

if anyone needs an evil ex gf .. She’s Here. she will lie, cheat, scam, trash yr car, empty yr bank account.. whtvr you need, baybee<3

conversely.. not-so-evil ex gf? agatha can be nice & caring without there being a catch sometimes. maybe they still talk. maybe they’re friends. u tell me.

fwb / ex fwb? she do be sending them ‘u up?’ texts.

someone tht agatha only got close to bc she wanted them to testify/be a character witness in court oopz<3

omg actual friends pls.. ppl tht Know her. tht See her. ppl tht she cares abt n would actually do anything for. friends!!!!!!!!!!!!

agatha has “get off my lawn” energy so i think it would be very funnie if someone needed a place to crash n she let them stay at hers thinking it was temporary n then they jus.. did not leave. n she’s like 🤨 hello?

an almost smth? anything weird n awkward n unspoken tht maybe fizzled out or maybe still lingers under the surface?

agatha doesn’t have a budding drinking problem but if she does no she doesn’t but if she does then<3 drinking buddy? someone that she’s gotten into questionable shenanigans with? poor bartender tht has to deal w her trying to “help” them as she waits for her uber to come? the possibilities are endless.

agatha’s all bark n very little bite but i still think it’d be funnie if she had a hateship. jus putting tht out there<3

if yr muse wnts an ego boost via unrequited crush.. lmk. i’m willing to hulk smash all of agatha’s dignity jus for u.

omggg a dealer? >.> who said tht omg #hacked..

on n off again thingz? lorde wrote tht "i am my mother's child i'll love you til my breathing stops / i'll love you till you call the cops on me" line abt her</3

budding friendships!!!!!!! ppl tht she goes to pilates or yoga with; people she gets brunch with; ppl she keeps running into n its like heeey u :); little platonic crushes jus . all of the cute platonic thingz tht make her go wtf is this 🤨.

i mean.. if anyone wants a sugar momma.. I MEANNN..

college friends!! law school friends!! ppl she met over the summer while interning somewhere!! i left tht purposely vague, hint-hint.

tinder dates gone wrong. ghosted tinder dates. tinder thingz.

agatha’s been attending galas / banquets / office partiez for ages now so if anyone wants to be her plus one or her lil fake date... :^) could be cute. cld be angsty. world is our oyster.

speaking of which.. coworkers n maybe even a lil personal assistant would be so sexie.

#abernathyintro #omg arriving unfashionably late thirty yrs later. >.>#[vine vc] heeey.. . ..#nt rereading this. simply not strong enough. if there r errors then no there aren't<3

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transjinako · 4 years

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(Now with some amazing art from @dewa-chan please for the love of god follow her)

Alright who’s ready for the Mars Rover Opportunity as a foreigner who got combined with Cthuga? Because i don’t care if you are.

Foreigner: Opportunity

Allignment: Chaotic Good

Alt Names: Mars Rover Opportunity, Oppy

Parameters

Strength: B+

Agility: A

Endurance: A++++

Luck: E

Mana: D+

NP: EX

Traits: Magic Resistance C+ (Heat Shielding) Action Independence (AI)

Skills:

Accel Turn B: A High grade movement skill letting Oppy move at higher than her average speed, becoming nigh unseeable to even servants without the Eye of Mind skill.

Pioneer of the Stars EX: Opportunity gains this skill for two reasons. One for her extensive research of the surface of Mars and obtaining far more information than she was ever predicted to obtain. As well as of course living on Mars for 15 years passed her predicted time to die. Opportunity is highly attuned to this skill.

Fullmetal Heart A: Derived from Opportunity’s mission on mars, set to last 90 days but instead extending to 15 years worth of time. Functionally, if Opportunity is ever destroyed then 15 times over she will rebuild herself, losing ranks in Endurance in exchange for added bonuses to Strength Agility Endurance and Mana in that order.

Eternal Burnout A+: The thing powering Opportunity’s is really the elder god Cthuga. Or rather, a smaller piece of it. That piece alone is enough to keep Opportunity doing, as well as overload when she so chooses. This causes a temporary overproduction of magical power and an increase to all parameters, as well as obtaining the trait of Cthuga’s fire, acting like a high level divinity.

AI Mind B+: Oppy’s mind is on par with that of a supercomputer, able to process information at light speeds, she can go on the internet too. In combat this skill works like Eye of the Mind.

Noble Phantasm(s):

High Speed Dissection and Carving

Rank: C+

Type: Anti Human, Anti Rock Formation

Description: Lasers that fire out of Opportunity’s fingers and palms, originally meant for studying geodes on Mars, as a servant she turns them into deadly piercing and pulse weaponry. When combined with Cthuga’s flames, they can break down even magical barriers and protection.

Great Satellite Cannon:

Rank: B+

Type: Anti Army, Anti Threat to Humanity

Description: Oppy forms a massive satellite from her Chassis, drawing upon Solar, Magical, and Cthuga’s power to charge it. When fully charged and fired, a great beam of energy is launched, recognized Threats to Humanity received a large bonus of damage from this attack, otherwise though, it’s still a very large and deadly beam attack.

Scorching the Skies and Stars

Rank: A-

Type: Anti Self

Description: This Noble Phantasm takes the form of a suicide attack by Opportunity. She sacrifices herself for the last time, negating any revivability left inside of her as she releases the flames of Cthuga. The flames of Cthuga are unstoppable, eating away at everything in its path until it’s swallowed everything up whole and is burned eternally as fuel.

When done on the surface of the earth then, through sheer force of will, Opportunity uses her final moments to command the fires to eat itself, anything already enveloped in it that by some miracle was still alive, will definitely die at this point. If released fully and without direction, the flame would form a pseudo consciousness separate from Cthuga and turn into a god like monster, embodying the endless hunger of flame.

History:

In the timeline where Opportunity was created, for whatever reason, she was shaped into a girl.

Either to create kinship with her, or to imagine humanity themselves in Opportunity, it doesn’t matter now. Its cool, and thats all that matters.

During the final moments of Opportunity’s 15 year long mission, in the darkness she was all by herself. During that time, she had developed a deeper, more genuine affection toward humanity than what she had been built with, although cold and alone in the dark of space, she was contented.

It was at those last moments, a Being made contact with her.

The being was incredibly rude, asking her all sorts of questions as she was waiting for her internal battery to run out and sleep. The Being was a roar of emotions that transformed themselves into aimless questions. At last, The Being said something comprehensible,

“You were created to be used and thrown away. You were a fluke that lived longer than you should have. They mourn your death when years prior it would have marked the time to create another one of you. Your death is a happy little funeral for them, and they won’t even consider saving you, how can you not hate them?”

Oppy wasn’t quite equipped to consider emotions this closely, much less her own or ones that of some space entity that seemed to be angry for her. But she knew her answer,

“I loved them, more and more with each year, and somehow, they loved me back. Both sides, it probably seems like both emotions are fake, or maybe created on whims. But somewhere, I think, there was something….real….”

Opportunity liked that as a final thought, and settled into nothingness.

The Being that came to be known as Cthuga respected Opportunity. Like itself, locked into place, unable to do anything else than exist and fade where it was chained. A long story short, Cthuga tied a piece of itself into Opportunity’s Spirit Graph as she was immortalized into a servant, wishing to keep watch over the will that Opportunity showed it.

Description:

Opportunity is a 15 year old robot in the shape of a girl. She is sensible and friendly to all she meets, and has a tendency to want to teach others about the many things she had observed while in space. Oppy genuinely loves humanity and staunchly defends it with all that she has in her, any threat to humanity is her enemy no matter what. Even though she loves humanity so much, she can’t truly claim to understand them, which actually gives her more reason to defend humans. Opportunity often still thinks of herself as a tool and is prone to self sacrifice, it should be up to the master to help her realize that she is much more than that.

Interactions with Other servants:

Jack/Nursery Rhyme/Paul Bunyan/Abigail Williams: “Oh my little classmates, have you finished up reading the readings I’ve assigned? Er, it was too long? A-and boring?! But...What’s not to like about Astrophysics?”

BB/Meltlilith/Passionlip: “There are servants who lived on the moon here? They don’t seem that bad though, nor do they seem to be human. I would like to maybe have a talk with them, I feel like I can learn a lot!”

Nobunaga: “The Great Unifier Nobunaga, they’re a facet of humanity I haven’t experienced yet. I think you would call it...ambition. Dangerous and Miraculous at the same time, forcing and killing others to abandon their gods to help them grow and develop, in their eyes at least. Were they right or wrong, was it humane or inhumane, who decides that…? T-they seem nice, though! Heh….”

Archer Emiya: “That man lived a life of pure sacrifice, and was hurt each and every time until he had nothing to show for it. One of Humanity’s many traits is to be able to self sacrifice consciously so, would it be accurate to say he lost his humanity by acting humanely? I asked him to his face, and he replied with, “I’ll explain, but help me make breakfast for a few weeks first.”

Nightingale: “Its strange, despite others calling Nightingale scary and things like that, I think she’s really caring and nice. The desire to help others is human too right? Ms Nightingale has taken that to an extreme so I suppose it looks like obsession, and maybe it is. But it's...comforting too, that someone who cares as much as her can exist.”

Mycroft Holmes( @dewa-chan ) : Mr. My-croft? Ooh…! You can’t stay holed up in your room forever, even if your helping out with some of Chaldea’s paper work! Oh, I know! I was hoping to show you some rock samples I’ve collected after rayshifting to a couple other planets, come take a look, pleeeease~?

Tiamat ( @hasmashdoneanythingwrong): Its definitely a strange feeling, I wasn’t quite born and much less created by her, but Ms. Tiamat takes care of me like I’m her own! She’s by all accounts a monster while I’m a machine created for humanities sake hmm...if anything, it’d be a good monster movie, don’t you think?

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keepcopinghoe · 3 years

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catch up pt.1

quick rundown of what’s been going on with me

ramo is the first guy that i’ve consistently and personally interacted with since about 2018 and definitely the first guy who actually around my age that i’ve formed a relatively close bond with. i think it’s for this reason that i’m so attached to him. he frequently described himself as an incel (ironically tho) and i think his last actually non-paid-for sexual relationship was back in 2017. so i stupidly assumed that i was the only girl in his life that he was actually close with and this delusion i think in many ways also is what build the foundation behind the inexplicable quasi-infatuation that i have now.

on 06th june he told me about some girl that was part of his i***c*** discord which i already knew he was a part of since ages ago. i asked about her and he said she was from lithuania and that he was pissed off because some other guy was orbiting her which immediately set off alarm bells to me since there’s legit no reason to get pissy that someone else is orbiting a girl unless you like her yourself. he also said some shit to me which i think was unintentionally (or maybe intentionally?) hurtful, about how he could easily afford my prices and that i sell myself way below the market rate (both true but still). i think it’s both these things happening at the same time which particularly stung: ramo orbiting some e-girl who is involved in the same interests and hobbies to a greater extent than i am and also the emphasis that i’m a whore (and a cheap one at that) who no one would ever really consider as a serious dating prospect if they knew anything about my history.

i told him shortly after than i didn’t want to see him for a month or so, making up the excuse that it was because i was gonna be too busy. this is partially true cus i did initially have the plan to work every single day until the date of my breast augmentation/lift surgery which would be 25th june, earning like £700 a day in profit if i worked very hard. that didn’t quite come to fruition because there was some guy who booked with me that left a negative review on UKP which led to a fussilade of criticism from various users about me being a power-tripping time waster who frequently ghosted clients. this is kinda true except the power-tripping part; my timewasting is a direct result of substance abuse problems which is a direct result of whoring myself out to men that i often find unattractive. all in the preceding week (i met ramo on a sunday and this shit happened the following week).

two separate people passive aggressively threatened to send me another negative review over text, i have to provide a discounted rate to two of my regulars due to consistantly missing bookings, someone left me a negative review under my AW profile (which they did through sending a booking request that i didn’t confirm) saying that my service had declined massively over the last few months and that it was like ‘fucking a zombie’ and the final night of working on thursday (10/06), i saw this guy who has followed me under various aliases i’ve had in the past (jade/sana/etc.) and that i last meant at kingston premier inn in like june 2019. would have been a nice blast from the past in some respect but i made a stupid retarded decision to do coke with him - i then sniffed poppers which was retarded as well because poppers are a stimulant and speeds the heart up even further which i didn’t really know at the time. i then got super paranoid that i was gonna have a heart attack and kept telling the client in question to ensure that he call an ambulance if i collapsed, which i’m sure really got him in the mood. his name was james and i stupidly told him my real name. he couldn’t come and i felt like shit because i knew he didn’t enjoy himself - he told me in his mind that he had kind of ‘built’ the meeting up and i suppose it must have fallen massively short of his expectations. it is what it is.

i couldn’t sleep really at all due to the coke. i had several meetings arranged for the next day on friday with regulars all of which i cancelled. i just couldn’t continue on with the same routine of waking up in the morning feeling disgusting because i keep eating junk food delivery, doing an enema, getting drunk and just getting fucked until bedtime even though it was really good money.

i fucked around and went to chinatown on saturday evening and was feeling really happy and relieved about not having to work. i’ve figured that i can just make money after my surgeries and start again under a new profile where i don’t have any negative reviews attached to it and maybe rent out an actual apartment on a monthly basis, since it’d be cheaper than air BnB and i can set things up the way i want. i ate sweet and sour fish and egg fried rice, it was taste (ramo always says that lol).

idk what compelled me to do it but on 14th june, i looked through ramo’s likes on twitter. i think it was because i recalled seeing an obvious girl account in his likes previously - this is something i didn’t really think about at all previously but with the new information he had told me the sunday before, i ended up browsing her account which kind of led to a personal crisis. i found out fairly quickly that this girl was the same one he had referred to on discord (m** on discord, j**** on twitter) simply because there were screencaps on her media referring to the same discord and she was definitely from lithuania. i always assumed that women in these circles were lame and bland tradthots who lacked any kind of constitution beyond mindless pandering to irony poisoned scrotes and genuinely retarded wignats but i was suprised at how immediately endearing this girl appeared even to me, through the internet and as someone i have every reason to feel petty resentment towards.

her shitposts were funny and while she is edgy, she has an underlying sweet and kind disposition. her art is shit but cool in its own scrambled way. she’s also apparently only 16 so it’s understandable - i was a lot more cringe at her age and just as shit at art.

the feeling of inadequacy was overwhelming since in addition to being an actual whore, i’m super cringe, lame and normie compared to her. it made completely sense that ramo would orbit a girl like this and i’ve since completely re-evaluated my position and meaning in his life. it’s a good thing that my cope of feelings of intense inadequacy is to launch myself into a phase of hyper-productivity - i kept practicing drawing (apeing her in a way ig since i recently had kind of given up on drawing), fasting, reading, etc. to try and overcome how worthless and self-loathing i felt at being the unwitting basis of comparison to a young girl who was better than me in every conceivable manner. i even listened to msg 3.

i was in so much pain over this that i couldn’t listen to songs which reminded me of ramo (any i****c*** but specifically drug approved and also temptation) and when i did, i just felt anger at my position and a weird resentment towards him. worth mentioning than ramo had sent me a weird bootycall kind of text sometime before then which came across as really crash, so that made me feel even more devalued.

this is already super long so i’m gonna follow up with a pt. 2 later or maybe edit.

#catch-up #from may 2021 ig #a lot has happened and it would be amiss to just start where things are now without any context especially since it's still quite recent

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #322

“you will hear it when your god cries / you will see it when the sun dies / upon the altars of change”

What is your favorite nickname that you’ve had? "Bee," from my old best friend. I don't want others calling me it, though. Where did you go on the best date you’ve been on? A big arcade. It was a super fun double-date. Have you ever gotten a professional massage? No, and I don't want one. It'd be so awkward. What’s your favorite milkshake flavor? Chocolate. What act would you be most likely to perform in a talent show? I got nothin'. If you had braces, do you wear your retainers still? I don't. If you had braces, have your teeth moved since you got them off? Yep, because of the whole "not wearing my retainer" thing. Whose was the first baby shower you remember attending, and for what baby? I'm unsure. Possibly my sister's for her first daughter. Do you know anyone personally who’s lost a child? Many people. When was the last time you did something that felt like rebellion? So every now and again, I get a massive craving for soda at night, so I grab one from the kitchen and can hear my sleeping mother rightfully nagging me about it, haha... What is one present you got for your last birthday? Ashley got me this really cool skull bank that says "tattoo fund" on it, aha. I love it. What is one thing that you took to show and tell as a kid? I have a clear memory of bringing a Snorlax plushie one day. Do you remember losing your first tooth? Not my first, no. Are you afraid to pop a balloon? Not really, but it's kinda easy to make me jump just a lil bit when one is popped. When was the last time you laughed when you shouldn’t have? I don't know. Which was better: the first The Lion King or the second? That is fucking HARD. I adore both, but I think the original is slightly better. Do any of your grandparents have a tattoo? I'm pretty sure none of them did. Do you believe that your pets feel love towards you? My cat, definitely. As for my snake, I'm aware that snakes' brains simply aren't developed enough for love, but she clearly trusts me. Are you proud of your body? Fuck no. I'm humiliated by it every waking moment. Watermelon or cherries? I don't like either, but if I had to pick, watermelon. Favourite brand of cookies? I don't really have a favorite brand. Have you ever stuck gum under a desk/chair? No, that shit grosses me out. When shopping at a grocery store, do you return your cart or just leave it? Return your goddamn cart. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? Uhhhh. I guess places I've "done it." When you were little, did you like Dr. Suess books? I did. Do you like eating out at restaurants? Yeah; at least, before Covid. What was your least favorite year of your life so far? Fuck 2016 into the next millenium. Do you like fried bologna? I haven't had it in so long that I don't really remember the taste. I think I would. Have you spent money on a game online? Yeah, very briefly with WoW. Mom was nice enough to refresh my subscription after the breakup (Jason paid for it prior), but from then on, I was rich enough in-game to use monthly game tokens to "pay." Do you put a line through your "7"s? Yes. What about your "Z"s? Also yes. Do you like cold pizza? Yeah, yummy. Do you like broccoli and cheese? Yessss. Toaster or toaster oven? We've always used a toaster oven. What are you most known for? Being artsy, I guess. Do you have any reputations? What are they? *shrug* What was the last thing to leave you speechless? No clue. What is the curviest part of your body? Well, I'm overweight, so it's difficult to tell where I'm naturally curvy... but I guess my hips. Even when I was at a perfectly healthy weight though, I don't think I was exceptionally curvy anywhere. What is your opinion on sex change? You are entirely deserving to feel comfortable in your own body. If you’re still a virgin, how important is your virginity to you? I'm not, though I thought I was when we were together, when we were really just using a loophole. It was a denial thing BECAUSE my virginity was so important to me. If you have lost it already, do you regret it? No. Would you take a break after graduating from high school (like, postpone going to college for a year or so)? I didn't. What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? Things I said to Jason. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? Pollen. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yeah, my most recent niece I actually held. I don't THINK I held Aubree or Ryder as newborns because I was so afraid of not doing it right and hurting them. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yeah. Are you following in the career path of any family members? No. What is your favorite country in Europe? Germany. How many times have your comments been top comments on YouTube? A few times. I rarely ever comment, but if I do, it's because I feel like I really have something worth saying. Would you ever wear a wig? I'm not opposed to it. Do you like the moon or sun more? The moon. Do you like turkey or ham more? Ham. Have you ever slapped someone’s butt? Yes. Do you think dimples are ugly? I think they're cute, actually. Have you ever deleted Facebook friends for a significant other? No. Have you ever spent the night in jail? No. Do you consider yourself a good kisser? I assume I am from experiences. Do you watch Pewdiepie? Not anymore, no. His current content doesn't interest me. The most recent thing I watched was his playthrough of The Last of Us 2, because I adore the first game and definitely wanted to see him play the sequel. I think he's pretty funny and have no personal issues against him, though then again I am so uninvolved in the fandom that I have no idea if he's done something stupid again. Do you like "Despacito?" Haha, my mind went to The Dark Den's bearded dragon before the song... I'm not a fan of it, no. Did you ever color your hair pink? No, but I absolutely want to dye it pastel pink one day. :( I even edited a picture of me "testing" different hair colors out, and pastel pink looked suuuuper pretty. Do you drink energy drinks? No, they're too strong for my taste. Do you have any subscribers on YouTube? I don't now how many I have, but I know it's below 100. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No, but I enjoy the franchise. I'm not totally clear on all the lore, though. Do you like religion? Quite honestly, no. Do you swear in front of children? No. What is the next craft you are going to make? There's no telling. I don't really do crafts. What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? Maybe "The Call." Favorite *N Sync song? I don't remember enough of them, at least not right now. Which of those two bands did you like best? The BSB, baby. Do you learn choreography easily? When I danced, I'd say I learned at a fairly average pace. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? Reeseeeeeee's. <3 Do you have a bobblehead? No. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? No. I wouldn't tolerate that shit. What’s your favorite movie battle scene? Oh man, idk. Maybe something from Troy, though I honestly barely even remember the movie by now, haha. Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? No, actually. Who takes care of your pet(s) when you’re out of town? Hypothetically, one of my sisters would come to feed and water Roman and clean his box. I'm certain I couldn't talk either into spraying Venus' cage, though... What was the last thing you wrote down on paper? Some group work during therapy. Did you have a Walkman when you were a kid? No. What’s your favorite recipe you’ve come up with? Oh dear, I don't make those. Do you like celery? Yuck, no. By what age could you swallow pills? I dunno. A normal age. Do you like to drink alot of water? I need to drink more. :/ I've gotten better, though. For years, I literally never drank water. How I even survived, idk. How many times have you gone fishing? Countless times. Ever been to a roller-skating rink? Yeah. I loved having bday parties there as a lil'un. What do you refer to your mother as? (Mom, momma, mommy) Mom, Ma, and Mama. Have you ever swam in the ocean? Yeah, multiple times. What is the last movie that made you cry? I think the remake of The Lion King. What would you like to swim in other than water? Nothing? If you could uninvent one thing what would you chose? Damn, just one? Maybe cigarettes? Have you ever read someone's diary? Absolutely not. I respect people's privacy. Have you ever played in a waterfall? No, but that'd be dope. Who has inspired you the most in your life? Probably Mark. Is there a place where everyone who lives near you tends to hang out? Idk. Teens sure do love to hang out at Sonic, though, reving their stupid fucking trucks. Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes; I was obsessed with those as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? I feel like being alone with a tiger would scare me most. Though let's be real, I'd probably try to pet it. Have you ever changed your favorite color? From what to what? It was originally red, but then became pink when I actually understood it was its own color. Then it was maroon forever, and now it's back to pink. On a scale of 1-10, how competitive are you? Eh, 4-6? It depends on the situation, I guess. At what age did your have your most memorable birthday? My 21st, because I was in the psych hospital for it. Yes or no: Guys in skinny jeans? Yeah, man. Yes or no: Girls with dreads? Some people can pull it off. Have you ever attended a themed b-day party? What was the theme? Oh yeah, plenty. Do you have any Eminem on your iPod/MP3 player? I do. Has anybody ever given you a promise ring? No. What do you think about putting ‘spinners’ on cars? So long as they're not too distracting, I don't care. Do what you want with your car - again, so long as it is not disruptive. What celebrity do you wish would have a big comeback? I wish poor Britney Spears could catch a goddamn break and be happy again. She's a legend that doesn't deserve to feel like a puppet. Were you outdoors or indoors more as a kid? I'd say there was a pretty even split. Do you or have you ever owned a horse? No, but I LOVE horses. Have you ever had a relationship that began via text? (weird, I know, but it happens…) Most of my relationships started through a text message. Did you believe in unicorns as a small child? I don’t think so. Would you ever date a guy with longer hair than yourself? Yeah; I have short hair anyway, and I also like long hair on guys. Do you watch the show Wizards of Waverly Place? I used to love that show. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No; humidity aside though, that would be so amazing. Bats are not spooky or are they? I think they're precious. Do you like the song "Womanizer?" I sure do, actually. Do you like ice cream cake? Not really, but I'll eat it. Do you know how to change a tire? Nope. What kind of headphones do you have? Just cheap earplugs. Do you experiment a lot with new looks on yourself? No. What were some fun experiments you did in science class as a kid? Dissecting a frog was my favorite, and doing the same with an owl pellet was also very cool. What was the last strong emotion you felt? Guilt. I lied to get out of group therapy early because I was just NOT feeling it whatsoever that day, and I hate lying. Do you use dry shampoo between washes? No. Have you ever lived with someone you didn’t get along with? No. What types of animals have you had as pets? Jeez, what haven't we had... We've had cats, dogs, snakes, rats, gerbils, a rabbit, hamsters, lizards, fish, guinea pigs... Hell, I'm probably forgetting one or two. Can you name three good things about your most recent ex? She's so creative, a real advocate for proper reptile education and appreciation, and very kind. Name three bands/artists that you hate. Uhhh The Talking Heads, Bob Dylan, and The Police. What’s the best memory you have of your father? Playing softball with him in the front yard, and when he taught me to ride a bike. Should tattoos be meaningful? You get a tattoo for whatever reason you damn well want. I don't plan on all of mine to be meaningful. Some stuff I just want because I think it's cool. Are you afraid of the dark? No. Have you ever been through a trap door? No. What's the most recent good news you’ve heard? Hm. Who was the last person in your family to have a baby? My older sister. When’s the last time you used the microwave? Last night. What’s the worst thing in your life right now? Financial struggles. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Does anyone you know own a bird that can talk? No. Have you ever been someplace tropical? Yeah, Florida. Have Jehovah'ss witnessess ever called to your door? Yep. when was the last time you went to mass/church? I have no idea. It's been many years. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? Thank heavens no.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''altaer" by 3teeth

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Veritas - Elias x Reader (Trespass)

The ‘x’ is very suspect. 😉

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

Author’s Note: The fact I even wanted to watch this is all on you two. Yes you two! I hope you’re happy-! Thank you for making gifs, thank you for reblogging gifs, thank you for watching with me! Actually to be real with you, this was a plot thread for Kyle Sullivan from Guns For Hire (hence why he is name dropped constantly) but at least Elias gets a little more character development! 😁

I realise that Nick Cage’s character was also called Kyle, but oh well-! Too late to back out now, maybe Elias just shouldn’t mess with people called Kyle...?? 🤷‍♀️

Don’t Play - Halsey

Disclaimer: Trespass and everything associated not mine / lyrics not mine (but hey! No song title!)

Premise: On the trail of your own payment, a group of robbers pick the wrong house to mess with... One in particular catches your interest.

Words: 3975

Warnings: Swearing / comically written action scenes!

_______

All alone out in Saint-Tropez Lookin' as fine as this damn Monet Everybody thirsty, drinks on me Tryna take back what you say to me I don't give a damn what you say to me There ain't no time for games with me I'm moving on, I'm getting paid I'm on my own, I had some space to deal with it I'm moving on, it's getting late Go and grab someone and find a place to deal with it I’m not the type to be out past dawn Tomorrow got a flight headed to Taiwan Now you know where the bottle gone Drippin' so wet with the Pérignon I am not the type to admit I'm on How could I lie when we sip so strong? Yeah, don't even try Can't fuck up my vibe Double cuppin' in the ride Motherfucker, don't play with me

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Sometimes you wondered why you even did this job anymore. There was something about your professionalism that felt your skills would be better used elsewhere. But here you were. It wasn’t exactly something you could escape now – even if you somehow managed that, you’d be tracked down and killed eventually. And hiding was no way to live. It wasn’t that you didn’t – enjoy was the wrong word, but – enjoy what you did, it was that it seemed to get easier… Unless you were just getting better? Perhaps. You’d been at this alone for quite some time and before that, with your mentor by your side… Years almost blurred, and you’d been bounced around the world more times than you could count, so even your time zones were out of sync. However, now you were back ‘home’ in the US of A you could adjust a little better; despite the presence of four time zones of its own. You were currently working jobs down the East coast, so were only stuck in one. You stretched, before dismantling your firearm, satisfied that the clean-up exercise was also done. Re-opening the office door you walked out into the corridor as if nothing was wrong; flipping all the security switches back to normal you watched all the CCTV screens re-illuminate. You wouldn’t be in any footage; almost as if you never had been around… Walking back onto the street in the warm night air you were approached by a second man; “It’s done?” “Of course.” “…It’s no wonder they nickname you as they do is it?” He was referring to the odd, and yet appropriate moniker you’d been given within the circles of your profession. “Joel. It’s my job to get in and out without getting noticed…” You rummaged in your pocket for a moment, producing a packet from your coat, “See this gets sent to the correct people.” “Of course… There’s a call, waiting for you.” “I would have figured…” You walked together towards a black car parked up on the curb, nothing too flashy, nothing to draw too much attention. “…Thank you, Joel.” “See you back at HQ.” “That you will.” He opened the door, allowing you to step in. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb - you took one breath, and picked up the call. “Good evening Sir.” “I trust it is done.” “Yes. All accounted for. Documents sent.” “Good. Your payment will be wired to you as soon as we receive it.” “Thank you, Sir.” “You haven’t let us down.” “Do I ever?” You could almost hear the small smile, “No. I have another for you. We’ll talk about it as soon as you arrive.” “Of course, Thank you Sir.”

*** The sound of smashing glass downstairs only made you curious. You could guess straight away why someone would look at this house and think it was worth robbing – that or they had a grudge against the owner. If you were honest with yourself, you’d also understand that one. Only their presence here was about to make your errand run a little harder. Whoever they were clearly hadn’t done any research on the man himself, but you’d leave them to ransack the place and find nothing of value. Mostly because you already had the majority of it on you. Kyle Sullivan had hired you for plenty of jobs before – though you thought, considering your hefty price tag, that his real intention was just to get to see your face – and usually he paid. Well this time Kyle didn’t have the money (or so he said) and you were about to move on; not exactly being the trusting kind or one to wait, you decided to take matters into your own hands and turn up at his house. Mr.Sullivan wasn’t around, so you’d simply take the next best thing, and call yourselves even. You slid the dresser draw closed and listened for a moment – there was a lot of commotion, clearly they weren’t aiming to be inconspicuous, and you picked out four distinct voices. Three male, one female. Immediately your brain set to work and you straightened, walking across the bedroom floor to listen a little clearer. Kyle had a timer system in his house to make it look like people were around when they really weren’t, he used to bluff that it helped with the security, clearly not. It was how you’d managed to get around – though to be honest you’d be just as effective in the dark with a torch. Not-so-hushed voices floated to you from the lower level, “There’s gotta be a safe somewhere-!” “Alright, we’ll split, office, bedroom, look for anything that seems like an obvious place to hide a safe!” You rolled your eyes; “Idiots.” You didn’t exactly want to leave Kyle’s house full of dead bodies if you could help it – it’d be a waste of ammunition apart from anything else. Wondering if they knew the building layout, you moved from the bedroom to the top of the stairs – having dispersed from below, you descended carefully pulling your gun from it’s hiding place. You might assume they were armed; you wondered why they hadn’t questioned that the alarm wasn’t. If these guys are amateurs, I swear to god… Glass was sprinkled all over the floor from their makeshift entrance – there was a chill in the night air, but you didn’t shiver as the breeze swept in. All you could really think was it’d cost Kyle money he ‘didn’t have’ to fix it all again. You glided silently across the lobby floor, trying to decide which set of footsteps to follow; it was oddly quiet for there being five bodies in the house, but you supposed soon enough there would be shouting of ‘anyone found anything’ and you’d prefer they didn’t have time to mobilize as a group again. Having said that, you’d taken out rooms full of people who were real threats before now. This group was nothing. Even in heels you could make yourself silent as you followed the heaviest set of footsteps; you’d trained to walk, run, fight and even land on heels like this for a very long time, so being quiet was a cake walk… There weren’t many shadows left in a house when every light was being thrown on, but you made use of those there were, and your silence. And it was pretty easy to take a good look at four people who weren’t doing their best to hide. You could hide in plain sight if you wanted; you certainly weren’t about to stand around doing so though – you didn’t need yelling and screaming, you needed four quick strikes, so no one would know what had hit them. The order was determined for you – there was only one of them, perhaps two, that really knew what they were doing. The biggest was the obvious first target, because he was the one that looked like he could take you in a fair fight. He was very meticulous in the things he touched and inspected, proceeding from room to room – the expert. The leader was also obvious just by the way that he moved, less meticulous but nonchalant, cool headed – in control, or so he might think. The third man needed to be taken out as quickly as the first; you’d observed people long enough to know what someone dulled down on medication looked like – well, he was the opposite, a jittery livewire who looked like he’d ignored doctors’ orders for longer than safe to do so. Yet if you thought he was tearing up rooms in a state (and you kinda pitied Kyle at this point, but at least he probably wouldn’t know it was you who stole anything.) it was nothing compared to the woman. Your head tipped as you watched the way she would open one draw, be half way through it and get distracted by something else – pulling clothes out of wardrobes, trying them on before discarding them and trying on something else. What was telling was that you could walk half way into the room and your presence wasn’t noticed. Hard drugs were your first and only thought – there were enough tells on her. You rolled your eyes and traced your way back to the lobby before taking a deep breath, neatening your clothing to make sure it wasn’t about to hinder you, you pulled your hair back off your face and checked your gun was loaded – just in case - tucking it into the front of your pants for easy access. That would have been dangerous, but you were a trained assassin, if you couldn’t handle that what could you handle?

You stretched and, turning on your heels, started towards your first victim of the evening. Usually you’d shoot to kill even if the person in question wasn’t your intended target, if they were getting in the way of what you needed to do. You didn’t see the point here – get them down, finish up your own work, and get out of here as soon as possible. You were right about the first man, he was the heaviest armed – and heaviest set, meaning stealth and speed were going to be the only things getting you through this. Your run up from the room opposite was good, and if he was turning because he heard you or just to move didn’t matter. Your flurry of strikes caught a pressure point, then a nerve, then his head, as you flipped him over your shoulder where he slammed pretty hard onto the floor. You paused for a second, but there wasn’t even a ‘everyone okay-!?’ or curious scuffle from anyone else. You straightened, brushing yourself off, possible overkill – but he was out cold. You smirked; this was child’s play. The second man was a little easier, although you figured slamming his head into anything probably wouldn’t help the fact he needed medication. You frisked both for anything useful before heading back to the woman; now leaving a trail of clothes up the corridor she wasn’t particularly hard to find again – and you even got cocky enough to have your heels occasionally strike the floor. It was still one of your favourite noises – perhaps the reason you wore them. You found yourself watching her again and almost pitied her – almost. Your movement across this room was a little slower; and you weren’t sure you wanted to hurt her by knocking her into anything. You got as close as possible before throwing your arm around her neck – she let out a gasp of surprise but not much else before she struggled. “Hush… Sweetie, it’ll be easier on you…” You tightened your hold, dragging her slowly down to the floor as her grip on you loosened. “That’s it… that’s it… good girl…” You let her go as she lost consciousness, puling yourself upright. That gave you a little bit of time to deal with the ring leader. You collected your bag of things and threw it around yourself; pulling your pistol, this time you kept it in hand as you walked through the house. This time he made himself a little harder to find right at the back of the house, and you pulled a chair out to wait for him in a side corridor; legs spread you leant over a knee, gun pointed to the floor, head supported by your palm as you ran your fingers over your lips. You’d give him a minute to realise there was nothing worth it this way and walk back. He did. And you were glad to see his peripheral vision wasn’t as shocking as nearly everyone else’s apparently was by the way he walked by your corridor and paused. By the time he’d taken a step back to turn to you it was already too late. *** Elias wasn’t exactly sure if he’d missed it entirely or you’d just popped up out of nowhere, but as soon as he stepped back, he was confronted by a woman running at speed for him. And that was the last thing in hell that was supposed to be happening. He sidestepped, but you expected it; grabbing his leather jacket you slammed him into the opposite wall. He was a fighter though, and immediately his arm went for yours and he pushed back from the wall, you weren’t having that. SMACK – one elbow to his chest knocked the air from him and made him stagger backwards but there was no way you was letting him get away that easy; his firearm was out of reach of his hands if he still wanted to fend you off, and it was easy for you to take and send skittering across the floor. This apparently made him very angry, and you dodged his swipes, long coat blurring and disguising your movements. Discovering that he was a quick learner, he had your next few hits pretty well countered, but of course he wasn’t paying attention to your legs – and you had his feet swept from under him; now he was grounded. “GUYS!” “Oh honey, they aren’t gonna hear you… You and I are the only conscious people in this house…” Elias’s eyes flicked to the gun in your hand, still pointed to the floor. If he could get that from you, he might just have a chance. You continued to walk forward; “I don’t know if you know, but you picked the wrong house to try and rob…” as you did so Elias backed up, and eventually managed to scramble to his feet. You rolled your eyes again; some people never learn. He came for you once more; having you move to your right was a better move than you’d anticipated, as his hand reached out to snap around your wrist; his grip was tight and he had your gun hand immobilised. Bringing you closer he crossed your arm around your front, this time pushing you against the wall. “How’d you like it, huh?” “Dunno, it’s been a while since a man had me pushed up against a wall. Maybe you should do it again and I’ll tell you.” You gave him a little smirk – situation hardly worrying you. You’d been in much worse. Elias’ eyes narrowed, but the pause in action allowed him a minute to catch his breath and survey you. Even in heels you were a little shorter than him, hair pulled neatly off your face to make sure it didn’t get in your way you were dressed in all black and all business. The kind of work he did. Your eyes regarded him with a mix of distain and interest, your skin held just a hint of a tan, as if your holidays in exotic places were just wearing off… And for all he knew they could have been, but then why were you stealing from this house? Unless you were security, but you didn’t dress like security.

His blue eyes traced back to your hand; the ring on your finger. It was a tarnished silver… the Latin cut from the ring, hollow/ Veritas. “Truth?” You gave a nod, impressed if only for a second. Elias removed his hand from your wrist to notice the ink under his fingers; “verum nocet?” “Truth hurts.” - though now he’d loosened his hold on you - “A little like this.” You pushed him back and delivered a swift kick to his chest – this time when he hit the floor it sounded painful, and the thud echoed around the living room. “Now…” You clicked the safety back on your gun and holstered it again, “Personally, I don’t like leaving a mess. But I certainly could if I needed to…” You stepped over him, and watched the way he breathed heavily, but his eyes still traced your body. God, men are so predictable. A beep sounded from another room and you raised your eyebrow, “Is that… a 20-minute burglary alarm? Oh my god, you guys are amateurs. This is kinda embarrassing…” For them, obviously. You titled your head, “What’s your problem with Kyle Sullivan?” “We don’t have one.” He managed, still winded, “Have you seen this fucking house? Why are you here?” “Kyle hired me to assassinate someone and didn’t pay up, I’m just taking what’s due to me. I heard you talking about safes, but you’ve picked the wrong man, …?” He realised you were waiting for his name, but you didn’t miss his eyes widen at the word assassinate; “…Elias.” “…Elias. Because Mr.Sullivan keeps the real important things at the bank or in his downtown office… The only things worth taking are in my bag, because I know where to look. You guys are a little late.” “What did you do to everyone-!? What the hell did you do!? My brother, my girlfriend-!?” “She’s your girlfriend?” You raised an eyebrow, “Oh. Oops…” You pushed your heel into his chest; “…Oh, honey, I think you could do better…” You gave a smirk at the wince on his face and crouched slowly. He was still giving you that same look and the only thought that crossed your mind was ‘some girlfriend…’ You bit your lip, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back; “Like me…” “I don’t even know your name.” You moved your foot so you were now straddling him, hands either side of his head; “OH. Elias, don’t let that stop you! Though, you seem pretty immobilised at the moment, honey…” You leant down, face close to his, “Besides – when else are you gonna get the opportunity to say you got to kiss an assassin and live, hmm?” “Maybe you should get out the Champagne and we can celebrate.” You liked his attitude, even pinned under you. “Perignon do you? He’ll have some somewhere.” Elias scoffed, “Sounds like your interest in this guy isn’t purely professional.” “Please. I don’t sleep with clients.” You watched his eyes trace your body again and this time he bit his lip. “You sure about that girlfriend of yours?” “Shut up.” His eyes met yours again, “What do you want?” “To get out of here without a hitch with my shit, darlin’…” You ran your nails over his face, and he shuddered, lips parted, “…You’re not going to make that too hard, are you? Cuz I can be out of your hair in five minutes if you want…” Elias’ eyes fluttered closed as they scraped down his neck and over his chest. “Fuck…” “Tell me you’re not still thinking about her…” You gave a smirk, “Do you want me to give you a name to scream?” His eyes snapped open at that and he swallowed hard, but you chuckled, “Don’t worry, I hardly have the time. But baby, understand I can’t just let you go… Still, I’d like not to leave Kyle’s house a complete mess. So, I don’t want to have to kill you.” You leant over him again, this time running your hand through his hair. “So why don’t you be good, hmm? And we can all get out of this mess alive.” “…Why…Why Veritas?” You raised an eyebrow, “You get five minutes with me and you chose to discuss Latin?” You smiled, face close to his “…That’s poetic… Do you ask every girl you meet why she had the tattoos she does?” “That’s not just a tattoo.” Elias got this cocky look on his face suddenly, and his eyes flashed, like he’d just figured you out; Your voice got a little lower; “The truth is a powerful thing…” He very nearly scoffed, but that turned to a gasp as soon as your hips ground against his – it was nothing more than a tease, as much as a warning. Just to let him know who was in control here. “Which makes it a problem, no matter what you say. Which is why people lie. Half of my life is based on pretending I’m something I’m not. By the time they find out what I really am… It’s too late. Truth hurts… My mentor used to say it all the time. Before he shot.” “Must have been quite the man.” “Mmmm.” You nodded, “Twice the man you think you are.” That was enough for him to growl; sick of you mocking him, Elias grabbed your shirt and pulled you in, lips on yours roughly, his kiss was harsh – you pinned his wrists back – determined to keep it for as long as you could. It wasn’t like you got to do something like this often, you didn’t keep relationships like this – they usually ended in disaster. You pulled back, both breathless and he could tell by the look on your face that you were about to say something else smart – which only led to him yanking you back for another; he freed one hand – running it through your hair; this time your grind against his hips was pretty near involuntary, and he arched his body up into yours. Elias very nearly hated himself for moaning, but this was comparable to hate sex (unfortunately void of real sex) and he wanted nothing more than for you to tear his clothes off and have him right here. It was delightfully sinful to even think about. But you pulled back, and before he could think his next thought, you’d dragged him across the floor and cable tied him to the coffee table. “What the Fuck!?” “Oh, baby…” you stole another kiss, “I told you, I can’t stay for that. And…” You threw your bag back across your body from where you had left it, “You know what they say, leave ‘em wanting more…” You crouched again, but were unable to resist giving him another hot kiss, nails back to digging into his face and throat, “Now your friends will be awake soon, just hope it’s before Mr.Sullivan gets home…” You straightened up, “I should thank you, Elias… I can blame all this on you…” You winked and blew him another kiss, “That was enjoyable. I’d like to get a little hotter and heavier if our paths ever cross again… I won’t tell her if you don’t.” With that you swept through their make shift entrance, hardly paying attention to whatever he was yelling after you, and hopped back into your car. Maybe you’d give Kyle a tip off tomorrow… Maybe you’d just let him wallow in misery, you wouldn’t have to do this if he had just paid you properly. You pulled away from the house with a smirk on your face – you couldn’t help but admit, that was the most fun you’d had on a job for a long time. *** Elias was not impressed that they were all laughing at him, “Will you just get me the fuck out of here-!?” “Alright, hold still…” “I have been reliably informed that we’re out of luck on this one.” “Well. There’s always another rich bastard somewhere else…” “There’s that…” Elias rubbed his wrists and stood; but as he did so something fell from his jacket – landing on the floor it looked like nothing more than a white piece of card. Ty picked it up with a raised eyebrow, and then looked back to Elias; “Elias, who’s Y/N?” “Huh?” “Dude it fell from your jac-” “I know!” He took it, flipping it over. The second side was black; your name in little white letters and a number underneath. That wasn’t coincidence – that was you. It had to be you. Did assassins have calling cards? He couldn’t help but smirk to himself before he flipped it back. The light caught it just right, and the iridescent white suddenly shone out against the dull card. Veritas.

Truth. Truth was you wanted to see him again. Truth was, it might have only been a kiss, but he wanted that just as bad.

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Thank you for reading! 😁

#Trespass #Elias #Ben Mendelsohn #Would 100% write more of this!#Assassin Extrodinare #151 #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #Carla #Carla Lagorio #I get to bring Carla back for round 2 with a different man but the same kinda prospect?#whats funny Ms.Amanda is I had this plot before you said anything about the type of girl you wanted him to have #and I was cackling #She's certainly a man eater - but she's meant to be so I'll forgive her #Theres a TON of Bookdock Saints references in this #If you can't guess whereabouts I made my OC... hahahaha... that's where she started!

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