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anxiousdino · 1 year

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Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep, but a place for crows to rest their feet

Cross posted on AO3 by the same name!

Almost a year ago Bowser kidnapped Peach for the last time. Exactly 11 months and 13 days ago, the two rulers signed a peace treaty. And, in a week there is a party. Unsurprisingly the Mushroom Kingdom decided to celebrate the anniversary in their typical fashion; a huge event. Stalls and fair games will be placed along paths near the palace for those wishing to escape a crowded dance within the castle. Koopas and mushroom people alike are invited to the festivities.

This is where we find Luigi; finishing a snack stall for one of the locals. Without receiving any thanks he leaves to help another vendor only to be stopped by his ex-enemy. He wishes he could deny the small yelp from being startled. Bowser chuckles at the plumber before greeting him boisterously. The sentiment is returned, albeit much quieter but just as joyful. Witnessing the display of Luigi’s unsuspecting strength the Koopa King teases him, claiming that he’ll be giving him a run for his coins soon. Across the shy plumber’s face spreads a maroon from the complement. To hide it, Luigi bows with a flourish of his hat and plays into the joke.

Being friends with Luigi came easier and more natural than with his twin considering that the two barely knew each other. He and Mario had a sour history that made the reconciliation feel less political and more like children being forced to apologise after a fight on the playground. While the princess found it quite amusing, the men did not. Then came apologising to ‘the green one’. As half assed as the apology was, he was forgiven much quicker than with his actual nemesis. In fact, Luigi had invited him to ‘hang out’ or something which baffled Bowser to no end. Yet he still agreed and caved into the timid smile.

During the week the two barely separate while helping for preparations, swapping jokes and deep conversations as they have been the whole year.

Rambles of his garden follow the pair down the path to the Mario Bros’ house, and as they get closer the human grabs the koopa’s hand. His excitement renders him oblivious to his company’s stunned reaction to the simple gesture. There is a small garden laid before the front door, it had been a project in Luigi’s spare time. Bowser notes that the stars in the shorter man’s eyes tell him that it’s his pride and joy far more than his words were currently trying to. It’s impossible for him to resist joining in on the plumber’s mirth. Teasing remarks are comfortably traded while Luigi shows Bowser his humble flower beds before moving to sit on the lawn.

The conversation begins to sway between topics like the grass blades do in the breeze, the larger of the two softly watches a flower crown being weaved by his unlikely friend. He’s so caught up in the rustle of Luigi’s hair and the sun lighting up his eyes to match the sky above that it takes him a second to realise the crown is being placed on his head.

“There! A king-a needs his crown, bello come sempre amore mio,” his face burns as he corrects himself, “amico mio.”

Still dazed from his sedated hour in the cosy sun with the fantastic view, he doesn’t question the plumber’s gibberish like he normally does. Instead he thanks the world that whatever it was made the man prettily flustered.

“Then where’s yours?”

At first, Luigi falters, his smile dims and his body freezes. Quickly enough though, his face goes from pink to maroon and picks up his hat to hide behind it. Some of the Italian curses make it past the fabric to the koopa’s ears. The same koopa heartily laughs as the hat is swatted against his arm.

“Mama Mía, Bowser! You can’t just-a say those things!”

“Even if it makes you smile this much? Bit contradictory there Green Bean.”

“Bruto, bruto assoluto. You’re a brute, I hope you know that.” Wait, Luigi knows that grin-

“Yeah, you love it though.” He does.

Royals and citizens in fancy outfits pack the ballroom but Luigi pays no mind to them. Koopalings terrorising (pranking) them is much more entertaining. They aren’t quite who he wants to see but the fondness hugging him nearly makes him forget about who he was looking for. When he does find the person, everything fades away. Bowser stands there, talking to Kamek, in a black suit with a deep green shirt unbuttoned at the top. It makes Luigi want to undo a few of his own just to be able to breathe a little.

“Stop ogling him and ask him to dance.”

“Waah! Don’t-a sneak up on me like-a that, Daisy!”

“Never. Besides, I said ‘hello’ at least twice. Ask him to dance.”

Luigi groans, knowing she’s not going drop it. They make a deal; he will if she buys him a drink for confidence first. Daisy quirks a brow at him downing it considering he’s never been a big drinker. True to his word, he hands his best friend his glass, bids her a ‘fuck you’ and strides up to Bowser.

Even from the slight distance she can tell her friend is getting worked up with anxiety. Where Bowser stands it’s even worse, he just smirks while the smaller man stuttered through the request. To Luigi’s further dismay the taller of them pretends to have to think it over.

Bowser leads, mostly out of convenience with their sizes, his claw more than covering Luigi’s waist. Due to their heights Luigi holds on to the koopa’s bicep rather than his shoulder and they clasp their other hands together, albeit a little awkwardly. After a few moments of getting in the rhythm they begin to feel more comfortable, naturally gravitating closer. By the end of the song they are firmly pressed together head to chest with Luigi having his eyes closed and trusting Bowser to guide them both. A flourish of instruments boldly finish the music before starting the next slow dance. The king doesn’t notice. He can’t notice anything other than how Luigi looks up at him like that and before either even realise they both start leaning in.

Right as they’re about to meet in the middle Luigi pulls back. Fiery eyes snap open to meet icy ones. Neither move away.

“Y’alright, Greenie?” Had he read this wrong? The plumber shakes his head and looks down.

“I, I can’t-a do this,” he meets Bowser’s gaze again, “I really want to but I can’t.”

Confusion mixes with the koopa’s concern as the words register. A million reasons brew in his mind, but Luigi isn’t shallow enough for any of them to make sense. He tests it anyway, a small puff of smoke from his nostrils accompanies the question.

“Cause of what I am? Who I am?” It’s more tentative than angry. “No! N-nothing like-a that!”

“Mario? He still got a problem with me?” His small chuckle quickly gets cut off by the shorter man leaving his arms.

“Bowser. I can’t-a do this because I can’t be a back up. I grew up as-a everyone’s second choice, fine, I’ve accepted it. But you? I can’t-a put myself through that.” Tears crack his voice but don’t fall.

“Back up? Greenie-no-Luigi, you’re not second. I want you.”

“Because you can’t-a have her. We both-a know you’re only settling for me because a treaty stops you having her.” Seeing Bowser’s face twist so painfully gave a tear permission to fall. The anger in the king’s eyes throws him off.

“D’ya really think that little of me?” People notice his voice raise and curiously eavesdrop. Not realising the situation Luigi immediately fires back.

“Of course not! I think that little of myself!”

Cheerful ballroom music has never sounded so somber than it does now, in an otherwise silent hall. Bowser himself flinches back from the outburst while stares drown the two of them. It isn’t until Mario touches his shoulder that the situation hits the younger twin.

“Fratello? You good, Weegi?” Before he finishes asking, his brother is bolting out of room. All the former foes can do is look at each other in concern as Peach gets the party running again.

One slightly awkward explanation later has Bowser pacing and Mario stunned.

“You-a kissed my brother?”

“Tried to. That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Mario nods uncomfortably, “right, scusi. I knew he had self-esteem issues but I thought he was getting better, not worse. Did I-a do this to him? I try to help but-“ A snort cuts him off.

“Look, we don’t get on but ’m not stupid. You’re a good brother, I’ve seen it.”

Being reassured, by Bowser no less, halts the spiral Mario begun going down. A few seconds pass before the plumber fiercely catches the koopa’s gaze and asks if Luigi was right. Suddenly the stare was mutual.

“Fuck no! I got over Peach a long time ago, I only kidnapped her for political reasons after a while.”

“And my brother?”

“I really have to say it?” The Italian’s glare hardened, “okay, yes! I like him!”

“What are we? Ten? Like him, really?”

“Fuck you. I don’t do this feelings shit, ‘s new for me. You really wanna hear your arch-nemesis admit he’s in love with your little brother?”

Without hesitation, “if it makes him happy then yes. I do.”

“An’ you thought you were a bad brother. Alright short stack, I love your little brother. Now, whose gonna talk to him?”

Muffled sobs are interrupted by the door opening and light intruding into the darkened room. Around Luigi’s neck dangles a tie, crumpled and loose as if clawed at by a criminal trying to escape his noose. The tie sways with the man’s head snapping up, eyes glazed with a petrified sheen. Soft steps thud against the carpet cautiously in an attempt to not mess up again.

“Hey, Greenie.” With the way Luigi still stares shell-shocked it was almost as if Bowser hadn’t spoken at all. “‘M I good to sit?”

Sinking the plumber further into the bed is the mattress dipping under the king’s weight. Said king watches as Luigi crawls into himself as if he was the one with a shell to retreat in. It would amuse him had it not been so shattering. Nothing has ever bothered him more than not being able to hold the smaller man and protect him from anything able to induce this state. Nothing has ever terrified him more than remembering he induced this. He pushed too far and too fast, possibly ruining the friendship let alone the prospect of something more. A king shouldn’t grovel. A king as prideful as the King of Koopas shouldn’t grovel. Yet he goes to anyway.

“I’m sorry,” huh?

Heavy sobs begin to break through Luigi again, “I’m sorry, mi dispiace tanto!” A king shouldn’t grovel, and neither should someone the king deems more worthy of the title than himself. He shifts a little before pulling Luigi close. He shakes in Bowser’s embrace, letting out the stress from the past half an hour. Words of comfort become louder than crying as sobs dissolve into sniffles. Neither realise that the human ended up in the koopa’s lap and is completely enveloped by his friend.

Gravelly reassurances rumble from Bowser's chest helping to calm his friend who had stopped apologising in between sobs. Unbeknownst to the other, they both blamed themselves and believed they had fucked up whatever they had going on. And now that Luigi had settled, Bowser intended to fix it. It was based on being a replacement right? Easy!

“I've not liked Peach in a long time, Greenie. Political interest, definitely. Romantic interest? How could I when got to know you?” The Koopa's confident cadence almost made the plumber look up at him. Almost.

“But why? I’m-a the second choice, second place, good old forgettable player two.” A couple of tears re-wet his face. One lands on Bowser’s thigh, alerting him of the melancholic change. He shifts in a way so Luigi is facing him and gently lifts his head so that their eyes meet.

“I’m gonna kill whoever fed you that crap. Look, my kids love ya’, Kamek loves ya’. And as for me? Even in her best gown and makeup, Peach wouldn’t look half as stunnin’ as you do right now. I love ya’.”

Doubt still wracks his mind, it will probably always do so, but the way Bowser looks at him quiets the storm. There’s no hint of friendly teasing, no malice, no doubt or question. Luigi has never felt so seen, or utterly adored.

It shocks Bowser when Luigi surges up to kiss him. Eyes wide and eyebrows shot up to his horns. He recovers quickly enough to reciprocate without the other beginning to doubt himself further. Small hands gently hold his maw in response to him cradling the brown locks, clawed digits threading through the strands. They pull apart to allow Luigi to breathe, he’ll never tire of Bowser looking at him like that.

“Be with me?”

“‘Kinda question is that?”

“Weege! Grazie a Dio, stai bene? Cosa è successo con Bowser?” Mario practically leaps to hug his fratello.

“Sì. Mi sento meglio ora, scusa per aver rovinato la festa. Mi ha aiutato a calmarmi e abbiamo risolto alcune cose.” Luigi internally groans at the grin on his older twin’s face.

“Voi due insieme ora? Ti sei già baciato?”

“The hell are you two saying? You alright Greenie, ya’ look like you’re gonna do another runner.”

Admittedly Bowser’s not far off, the green twin is almost as red as his counterpart’s clothes. All he seems able to do is tell his brother to shut up while he hides his face in his hands. Bowser doesn’t like how Mario’s mischievous look is now turned to him.

“Did you-a try to or succeed this-a time?”

“Can it, short stack! We’re together now or whatever.”

Despite the exhausted words, he glances at his partner with affection and goes to hold him. Luigi accepts the hug, explaining to his brother that yes, they’re together.

“How good was he?”

“MARIO!”

#bowuigi #bowser #bowser x luigi #luigi #luigi x bowser #fanfic #mario bros

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madara-fate · 1 year

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Hi.

First and foremost I want to apologize for my impatience; I wrote you sometime ago and I’m getting a bit nervous you might forget about (understandable considering the shit you have to read the last past days)

Anyway. I was asking if you know Tekken? I saw a lot of similarities between sasuke and sakura in jin and Xiaoyu. Now it depends if you even know them but I remembered that you said you where a console type or guy (cheers 👊 bro)

Also you have my mad respect for not blocking all those … fanatics.

Yes I remember your initial ask, I have it saved in my drafts. I always save the asks I receive so I can take my time answering them and revising/adding things at a later date if more things pop into my head, so don't worry, the asks are never forgotten. They just tend to be answered on a first come first serve basis, unless they're not anonymous (non-anonymous asks are given more priority).

Here is your initial ask:

So to answer your question, yes I've always been a console person, and yes I was a huge Tekken fan back in the day (Tekken 3 holds a particularly special place in my heart), but I didn't really actively ship anything while I was still heavily invested in the series. Once the romantic undertones of their relationship became more obvious in the later games, I wasn't against it, and thought the idea of those two becoming an item was cool, but I wasn't actively pushing for it either.

I can definitely see the parallels to Sasuke and Sakura though, and Xiaoyu's Tekken 6 ending in particular gave heavy SS vibes:

youtube

With Xiaoyu being worried about Jin's descent into darkness and evil, Jin acknowledging the dark path he walks, Xiaoyu doing everything she can to dissuade him, telling him she'd stand by him no matter what, and Jin's thank you in response to her loving words - It all gives heavy chapter 181 vibes. It's a shame it was all a dream, but the sentiment remains; Xiaoyu want to save Jin from the darkness.

#Jin Kazama #Ling Xiaoyu #Tekken #sasusaku

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todomitoukei · 4 years

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Japanese vs. English Dabi A 293 Comparison

Chapter 293 gave us another great speech by Dabi, filled with all kinds of information. Similar to my post for the previous chapter, the official translation for chapter 293 has, unfortunately, once again made some changes in regards to Dabi’s speech due to its bias that I would like to share and explain here to give a better understanding of Dabi’s actual character rather than just leaving it at his American version.

Because Dabi said so much in this chapter and we will be comparing the panels from the Japanese version and the official English translation and taking apart the Japanese phrases, the rest of the post is under the cut (this post may or may not be just below 6k words)

The interaction begins with a short exchange between Dabi and Shouto as the former is hugging his younger brother mid-air while the others are still on the ground trying to take down Machia. In the official translation, Dabi begins by pointing this situation out to Shouto.

The two panels aren’t too different from the Japanese version, but this is another case of lost nuance. So here’s the original for comparison:

The speech bubbles read:

「向こうは楽しそうだなァ」

「可哀想になァ」

「おまえはこんなに辛いのに」

Breaking down the first line we get

「向こう ; mukou」-> other side; other party

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「楽しそう ; tanoshisou 」-> looks fun

「だ ; da 」-> casual form of です (desu); be; is

「なァ ; naa 」-> sentence ending particle; expresses emotion/sentiment

= “The others seem to have fun, huh?”

Then we have the second line:

「可哀想に ; kawaisou ni 」-> pitiable; poor (interjection)

「なァ ; naa 」-> sentence ending particle; expresses emotion/sentiment

= “Poor thing, huh?”

And the third line:

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「は ; wa」-> topic marker particle

「こんなに ; konnani 」-> so; like this

「辛い ; tsurai 」-> bitter; painful; heart-breaking

「のに ; noni」-> even though

= “Even though it’s so painful for you.”

Someone made a post a few days ago where they made an interesting note about this part, specifically that last line, that I think is worth mentioning here: this situation is Dabi comparing his own past to Shouto’s present. Touya was in pain for so long until he burned to death because no one helped him (and by that I mean an adult that could’ve actually helped him and not his younger siblings). Similarly, Shouto has been in pain for so long and now that it’s especially obvious to those around him as he is in the process of being burned, no one is helping him and instead, they continue fighting each other. And while Dabi doesn’t know the extent of this, it’s true that Shouto has been vocal about his family’s circumstances and yet no one’s ever done anything about it. So while Dabi at this moment is primarily referring to the fact that in this very instant no one is immediately by Shouto’s side to save him, it’s also unintentionally pointing out how no one in charge ever looked at the teenager with a huge scar on his face who openly hates his father so much and thought to maybe at least ask him about it.

You can argue that that is interpreting too much because “Dabi doesn’t care about him” - but I think that Dabi not knowing enough about Shouto and seeing him as nothing but “Endeavor’s doll” and Dabi recognizing that Shouto is in a similarly bad situation as Dabi are two statements that can coexist, especially since he is right in saying that right there no one is helping Shouto. And, again, based on his broadcast and how much his speech has changed to be more polite and humble in contrast to his usual direct, rough ways, it’s important to recognize that Dabi has an understanding of people (and how to get to them).

So while his mind might be too focused on his hatred for Endeavor, there might also still be that ability to acknowledge that those around him are hurting, too. This is an important problem within the fandom (and outside of it) as far as vocabulary goes - a lot of people throw around the word empathy and how awful it is when someone lacks it. But empathy is the ability to feel someone else’s emotions. And you don’t need to actually feel what they are feeling in order to recognize their emotions, which is far more important. This understanding of someone else’s emotions is sympathy. Compassion, on the other hand, is not just understanding someone’s emotions, but also trying to alleviate someone’s negative emotions. So even if Dabi doesn’t care about people, he can still recognize when someone is in pain.

After this, we get Shouto’s only line of that chapter, and as much as I wished he was given more lines, this one’s so good, it’s okay there isn’t more:

Above you can see the English translation having Shouto say “But... you’re... burning up... too!”

For comparison, here is this same part in Japanese:

Starting with Shouto’s line, we got「てめェ。。。こそ。。。体が。。。焦げて。。。！」

This line already broke itself apart! How nice.

「てめェ ; temee 」-> you

「こそ ; koso 」-> for sure; emphasizes preceding word

「体 ; karada 」-> body

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「焦げて ; kogete 」-> to burn; to get burned (the dictionary form of this is 「焦げる」(kongeru), the te-form is used here to leave the sentence trailing)

= “YOUR body... for sure… will… get burned…!”

The reason I’m saying this line is so important is the emphasis on the “you” part through the usage of koso. The general content of the sentence already tells us this, but that emphasizing nuance doesn’t exist in English (unless you bold, italicize, and underline it). The line is important because we’re shown someone who is in the process of being burned alive, and yet his worry is on the person trying to kill him rather than anything else. He isn’t trying to argue with him, isn’t trying to protect himself - he’s simply saying: this is hurting you. It’s interesting because in the eyes of those around him, Shouto is the one hurting the most. But to him, it’s Touya who is hurting the most. To him, this isn’t the hero-to-be Shouto being fought by the villain Dabi. This is big bro Touya hurting himself for the sake of getting at their awful dad. And little bro Shouto is only thinking about his big bro.

Now for Dabi’s response, we get the line that particularly stuck out to me as far as the English translation goes: “Seriously, it’s great that you were raised with love.” What? If you read the fan translation, you might remember this line as “You’ve grown up to be so considerate - I’m happy for you little bro” - so which one is more correct? If you guessed the fan translation then, unfortunately, you are correct!

The Japanese line reads 「優しく育って嬉しいよ」

「優しく ; yasashiku 」-> ; tender; gentle; kind (adverbial form of「優しい」(yasashii))

「育って ; sodatte 」-> to be raised; to grow up; (te-form of「育つ」to indicate reason & means (this part results in the second part of the sentence))

「嬉しい ; ureshii 」-> happy; glad

「よ ; yo 」-> sentence ending particle; shows emphasis

= “I am glad because you grew up kindly”

First of all, an adverb is nothing other than an adjective that is directly affecting/describing the verb it precedes. So to understand that in reference to this sentence, you can ask the question “how was he raised?” - with the response being “kindly.” If you wanted to say “raised with kindness” on the other hand, you would have to turn the adjective into a noun. That part of the phrase would then be 「優しさで育って」As you can see, that’s not what it says in the original version.

More importantly, the word “love” is not part of this, so I don’t know why that word is used here. It really gives off a wrong understanding of what is actually being said here. The official translation makes it sound like Dabi is saying “I’m glad you were raised with love, while I wasn’t” sort of like a complaint?

We still don’t know exactly what Touya’s upbringing was like, but we do know that things gradually got worse over time, so with the assumption that he was raised in a more positive (not good, just better in comparison) environment than Shouto, the English statement then doesn’t make sense since he was “loved” too for a long time.

Besides, he is saying that in direct response to Shouto displaying his worry for Dabi, which says nothing about how he was raised but everything about what kind of person he is (a kind one).

Furthermore, it leaves out the part where Dabi says he’s happy about this. Instead, he just says “it’s great” - which is more something used when you can acknowledge a situation being good for someone else, even though you don’t have any particular feeling about it. It’s very objective, yet in the original, he is stating his emotions with this.

The official translation, in my opinion, just ends up turning the two against each other (more specifically turning Dabi against Shouto), when in reality, Dabi is happy that Shouto shows compassion for him here, despite Dabi currently trying to kill him. In other words, he is surprised by Shouto’s concern for him and happy to be proven wrong about him.

Next, we got「俺は大丈夫今とても幸せだから。」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「大丈夫 ; daijoubu 」-> alright

「今 ; ima 」-> now

「とても ; totemo 」-> very

「幸せ ; shiawase 」-> happy

「だから ; dakara 」-> because (indicates a reason for something)

= “I’m alright, I’m really happy now, so...”

There are two things to note here in relation to the previous phrase. First of all, notice how both phrases include the word happy. In the first phrase, the Japanese word is ureshii, whereas in this phrase it’s shiawase. Once again, this is a question of nuance.

Ureshii is more of an immediate feeling that you feel in that exact moment. It’s a feeling that isn’t going to last forever (for example the joy you feel when you receive a gift).

Shiawase, on the other hand, is a long-term happiness.

The way to interpret why he is using both these terms is that he uses ureshii as his reaction to Shouto showing that he cares. He most likely didn’t anticipate for Shouto to say something like that, so signaling his concern for Dabi made the latter feel joy in that very moment.

So what about the happiness he talks about in the second phrase, how is it different from the first one? Clearly, Dabi is not exactly someone you would describe as happy when looking at the overall picture. I think one possible explanation as to what the shiawase here refers to is that Dabi has accepted his situation. While it wouldn’t be accurate to describe his state as one of having moved on from the past - clearly - at the very least, through admitting to his past and having distanced himself from that dark place, he has been able to now be in a better situation, where he is allowed to just live rather than trying to prove himself to someone day after day.

The second thing to note is that you might be wondering why I ended the sentence with “...” when the official translation is “I’m fine, because I’m really happy right now.”

Well, it’s kind of an odd sentence, isn’t it? The sentence as it is right there is just giving us a reason. But a reason for what? In Japanese, it’s okay to omit the main clause (the phrase that would follow after this to explain what you just gave a reason for) when it’s obvious what you’re talking about.

This confused me for a little bit until I thought about what sentence came before this one. Right before this Dabi says “I’m glad you were raised kindly.” The sentence we’re looking at right now is an extension of that. And what came before that sentence?

Shouto saying: “Your body will burn too.”

See what I’m getting at?

As explained before, Shouto is essentially telling Dabi “I know you want to kill me, but this is going to kill you.” Now if you add Dabi’s two phrases to that, you get his response as “I’m glad that you’re so considerate. That makes me really happy, so it’s alright if I die.”

Many people have pointed out before that Dabi doesn’t care about whether or not he will make it out alive and this is essentially him confirming just that. His only goal is to ruin Endeavor and knowing he is doing that is enough for him to accept death.

He then continues to explain that joy of his with the next sentence:「見ろよあの顔」

「見ろ」-> look (volitional form)

「よ」-> adds extra emphasis after volitional form

「あの」-> that

「顔」-> face

= “LOOK at that face!”

With his goal being all about destroying Endeavor, seeing this man look so defeated right there is the first proof for Dabi that his plan has worked out. While he doesn’t know yet what the actual consequences for Endeavor are going to be after this, he certainly has damaged him.

The next line reads:「最高傑作のお人形が失敗作の火力に負けて死にそうだってのに。。。！」

「最高傑作 ; saikoukessaku 」-> masterpiece

「の ; no 」-> hierarchy particle (the word before is the general noun, the word after the specific noun)

「お人形 ; oningyou 」-> doll

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「失敗作 ; shippaisaku 」-> failed creative work

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「火力 ; karyoku 」-> firepower

「に ; ni 」-> indirect object marker

「負けて ; makete 」-> being defeated (te-form because another verb follows)

「死に ; shini 」-> going to die

「そうだって ; soudatte 」-> I’m saying it’s so

「のに ; noni 」-> shows disappointment (“If only that weren’t the case”)

= “I say it’s a shame that the masterpiece doll is about to be defeated and die by the firepower of the failed creative work.”

A lot of people take issue with Dabi yet again referring to Shouto as a “doll” here. Obviously, that isn’t a nice thing to say, but please keep in mind that Dabi doesn’t really know Shouto and with that also doesn’t know how Shouto feels about Endeavor. All Dabi sees is Shouto being a hero-to-be, just like Endeavor has planned. Keep in mind that Dabi used to be in Shouto’s shoes, which makes looking at Shouto be like looking in a mirror and seeing young Touya trying so hard to be what his father expects of him, yet failing over and over again. They were both born for that selfish purpose. They were never born to be people, but only born to be what their father needs them to be. And now that Dabi has broken free from that role, it’s natural for him to describe Shouto’s position as such to emphasize it in case the others haven’t understood that this is the reason for their existence and them being right there in that exact moment.

The final part says「グプっ。。。なァ見ろって！壊れちまってるよ！！ははは！！」

「グプっ ; gupuu 」-> special effects sound (I will explain this one in a second)

「なァ ; naa 」-> when placed at the start of a sentence it’s an attention seeker, kind of like a “hey!”

「見ろ ; miro」-> look (volitional)

「って ; tte 」-> to say (in casual conversation this can be used to repeat what one has just said to stress one’s own quote; can show frustration)

「壊れちまってる ; kowarechimatteru」-> be broken (unintentionally; regretfully)

「よ ; yo 」-> sentence ending particle to show emphasis

「ははは ; hahaha 」-> laughing sound

= “Hey, I said LOOK! He is completely broken, hahaha!”

As mentioned in the translation comparison for the last chapter, the chimatteru indicates that the verb it attaches to has happened unintentionally or has yielded regrettable results. We know that it is Dabi’s intention to hurt Endeavor - so him being broken is neither unintentional nor is it regrettable to Dabi.

So in this case it’s not so much about how Dabi feels. Instead, it’s probably more fitting to say that it’s about Endeavor. This situation has broken Endeavor (which is regretful), even though it had never occurred to him that the past could come back to haunt him (he has not intended for this to happen).

[edit because someone pointed out that (as mentioned for the 292 comparison) chimatteru can also be used to indicate something has been done completely, so in this case he is saying Endeavor is completely broken]

Now for the part that I neglected before: the special effects sound gupuu. The reason I have been holding off an explanation is simply that it’s not necessarily that important for the sentence, however, when I looked this up this was the result:

Yes, you’re reading that correctly: *slurp*

I had a good laugh about that. The holy trinity of the slurping brothers is complete (albeit Dabi doesn’t have the noodles to go with it)

Anyway, back to the serious stuff!

Next, we get this big panel of Dabi with the three speech bubbles. Notice that there are several ha to indicate that he is laughing.

The speech bubbles all put together read:「焦凍！！俺の炎でおまえが焼けたらお父さんはどんな顔を見せてくれるかなァ！？」

「焦凍 ; shouto 」-> Shouto

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「炎 ; honoo 」-> flames

「で ; de 」-> by

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「焼け ; yake 」-> to burn

「たら ; tara 」-> when (focuses on the results that can come from this first part)

「お父さん ; otousan 」-> dad

「は ; wa 」-> object marker particle

「どんな ; donna 」-> what kind of

「顔 ; kao 」-> face

「を ; wo 」-> direct object marker particle

「見せて ; misete」-> to show (te-form to connect to the next part)

「くれる ; kureru」-> something was done for the speaker (being shown)

「かなァ ; kanaa 」-> I wonder

= “I wonder what kind of face dad will show me, when you get burned by my flames, Shouto!?”

The official translation added the “burn you to ash” part, which just adds more harshness to this than there already is. I’m not exactly opposed to that as I do recognize that he is being harsh here, however, this overall theme of adding words to make the villains sound harsher is just not what a translator is supposed to do so it is important to point it out.

Also notice the kureru, which is used when something was given to or done for the listener (i.e. a favor). Previously, Shouto has pointed out that Dabi would not survive his attempt at burning Shouto, either, and yet here he is wondering specifically what face Endeavor will show him. He isn’t just wondering what face this man will make, but what his reaction would be that his own failure has killed his masterpiece.

After Deku interferes we get this panel of Dabi and this is where the conversation between him and Shouto ends and his speech to Deku starts.

The Japanese version essentially says the same as the translation:「他所の家に首突っ込むなよ！」

「他所」-> another place; outside (one’s family or group)

「の」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「家」-> family

「に」-> in

「首突っ込む」-> expression to poke one’s nose into another’s affair; lit.: “to thrust one’s neck into something”

「な」-> sentence ending particle; expresses emotion/sentiment

「よ」-> sentence ending particle; shows emphasis

= “Don’t stick your neck (nose) into other people’s family!”

After this, we get the part where Deku gives his speech with the “And guess what?! You’re not Endeavor!” part that was supposed to… reach what exactly?

Someone pointed out that this wasn’t supposed to be an “It’s your power!” 2.0 speech, because with Shouto, Deku wanted to get to him and help him. With Dabi, on the other hand, he is saying (and he literally is saying this) that Endeavor is trying to be better. And Dabi not being Endeavor means that Dabi is not trying to be better. That, in turn, means that Deku is watching this Endeavor, the one that is trying to be better, but someone like Dabi who isn’t trying isn’t something worth watching.

Anyway, regardless of what the point of that phrase was, Dabi’s reaction is mocking this obvious statement

The Japanese line says「はははそんな事が誰でもわかる！！」

「ははは ; hahaha 」-> laughing

「そんな ; sonna 」-> such

「事 ; koto 」-> thing

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「誰でも ; daredemo 」-> anyone

「わかる ; wakaru」-> to understand

= “Hahaha, anyone understands such a thing!”

Continued by this part.

The first line here says「でも俺はかわいそうな人間だろ！？」

「でも ; demo 」-> but

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「かわいそうな ; kawaisou na 」-> pitiable; poor

「人間 ; ningen 」-> human

「だろ ; daro 」-> don’t you think?

= “But I am a pitiable human, don’t you think!?”

What’s interesting to note about this line is the use of ningen. Normally, you would more likely use the word「人」(hito), meaning person, when you put another word in front of it. After all, when you talk about another person (much like I am using the word right now) it’s obvious they are human, so you wouldn’t need to use the word human.

With that, Dabi specifically using the word human here is done in order to humanize himself to Deku. Not only is he asking “hey, don’t you pity me at least a little?” but rather he is saying: “I get that you think I’m just some low-life villain, but I am a human being with valid feelings, so don’t just ignore them because you don’t see me trying.”

Again - Dabi chooses his words carefully and this is no exception.

If you paid extra close attention, you might have noticed that the word kawaisou gets used again. But did you spot the difference? While in the first example the word is written in kanji as 「可哀想」now it’s completely written in hiragana. Why is that? You might wonder, and I did too. Keep in mind that the first time the word gets used here (written in kanji), Dabi is referring to Shouto. This time (written in hiragana) he is referring to himself. Kanji are generally used because it makes texts easier to read since there are no spaces in Japanese. Much like the rest of us, Japanese people are also born with zero kanji knowledge and learn about them as they grow up. Because of this, books for children tend to just be in hiragana (the letter Kota writes to Deku thanking him for having saved him is also written in just hiragana) so they can easily read them. With that, a text in all hiragana gives off a more childish, cute, innocent kinda feel.

Obviously, in spoken Japanese, you can’t hear that he is saying this word in hiragana. But we know that he is. So aside from him using the word human to make him more, well, human, he is also saying the word pitiable in an innocent way, which furthers the image he is trying to create of himself; that of an innocent human being that has been wronged. Because clearly, someone has to help the heroes see that villains are also people. As mentioned before, this is a common theme of the League of Villains and has most recently been brought up by Toga’s question to Uraraka of whether or not the heroes saw Twice as a person. Dabi is, in a way, asking that same question, just with several exclamation marks.

The second line says「正義の味方が犯した罪それが俺だ！」

「正義 ; seigi」-> justice

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「味方 ; mikata 」-> supporter

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「犯した ; okashita 」-> committed

「罪 ; tsumi 」-> crime

「それ ; sore 」-> that

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「だ ; da 」-> casual form of です (desu); be; is

= “The crimes committed by the champion of justice: that’s me.”

That first part seigi no mikata is sort of a set expression, but I wanted to break it down so you can see what the actual words are. It’s generally translated as champion of justice, knight in shining armor, crime avenger, or hero. Hero is obviously not the right translation here, since they just use the word hero for the profession. Champion of justice is just the closest to the actual words, hence I chose that translation.

The official translation is once again being biased with this sentence, this time though not so much to make the villains look worse, but to make a hero look less bad. While the Japanese version says that this “champion of justice” aka Endeavor has committed crimes that resulted in Dabi’s existence, the translation changed it to “did some vile stuff” which is seriously downplaying the fact that a Pro Hero, whose job it is to fight criminals, is actually a criminal himself! It’s just yet again a very odd change to make, especially given the fact that we know that Endeavor has committed crimes. So why make it sound like less here?

Okay, so you might be confused about this line if you read both the fan translation, as well as the official translation.

Again, the official translation says “evil is thriving” - the fan translation, on the other hand, says “evil will no longer prosper.”

To opposite meanings for the same short phrase. Why is that?

You see, the first line says「悪が栄えるんじゃねェ！」

「悪 ; aku 」-> evil

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「栄える ; sakaeru 」-> to prosper

「んじゃねェ ; n janee 」-> “isn’t it” (see explanation below)

= “Evil will prosper, won’t it?”

The reason for that confusion is that last part, n janee, because its meaning depends on the context, and with that, in cases like this, it’s less obvious which it is.

This is a rougher way of the casual n janai, which is a more casual way of no janai, which is a more casual form of no de wa arimasen. Or in simple terms: it’s very casual.

So what does it mean? Like I said, the meaning depends on the context.

The no is an explanatory particle and when paired with janai can be used for when you express an opinion, whilst seeking the listener’s opinion.

So you can treat it as a “isn’t it” in an affirmative sentence (when you express your opinion or talking about probability), but you can also use it to negate a sentence (hence the two opposite translations). The former can also be used when you’re making a point.

Knowing that it’s pretty much down to context, we have to ask what makes more sense. Is Dabi saying that evil will prosper, or is he saying evil doesn’t prosper?

To put this into context, you have to look at the surrounding sentences. Prior to this one, Dabi mentioned that he is the crimes of the hero system. In the next phrase, he talks about justice collapsing. Because of that, I think “evil will prosper” is a more accurate translation as justice collapses as a result of evil - unless you interpret evil as being about the heroes.

Anyway, the second line says「正義が側板するだけ！」

「正義 ; seigi 」-> justice

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「側板 ; gakai 」-> collapse; downfall

「する ; suru 」-> to do (turns the noun it attaches to into a verb)

「だけ ; dake 」-> only

= “Justice will only collapse!”

If you look back at the official translation, it says “Justice is losing this war!” Meanwhile, the Japanese version doesn’t mention the words losing or war. While they still somewhat say the same thing, losing a war doesn’t inherently lead to irreversible, long-term effects. Instead, this situation is about more than just losing this war. The entire system is taking a fatal blow from this. Not even so much from this war, though. The reason Dabi is so certain that this will be the downfall for justice is that how are people supposed to still trust in this justice system when those that are supposed to defend it are criminals themselves? It’s more of a natural consequence resulting from a system that has been corrupt for far too long - the exposure is simply what will put an end to it.

The third line in that part is「俺はその責任を感情豊かな皆々様に示しただけだ」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「その ; sono 」-> that

「責任 ; sekinin」-> duty; responsibility

「を ; wo 」-> direct object marker

「感情 ; kanjou」-> emotion

「豊かな ; yutaka na」-> extremely; very

「皆々様 ; minaminasama」-> everyone

「に ; ni 」-> to

「示した ; shimeshita」-> pointed out; showed

「だけだ ; dake」-> only

「だ; da 」-> casual form of です (desu); be; is

= “I only pointed this responsibility out to all you very emotional people.”

What irked me about this phrase in particular in the official translation was yet again the choice of words. I get that Dabi has a rough way of speaking. But sometimes, he chooses to use polite words and that shouldn’t be erased.

So when the official translation makes him say “All I’m doing is showing you sentimental dopes who’s to blame for that!” It’s just a rude phrase. But in Japanese he says minaminasama. You might be familiar with the word minna or minna-san, with the san in the latter example being a polite suffix (kind of like Mr./Mrs.,...). Sama is similar to that but even more polite. So minaminasama is about as polite as you can go. There might not be a direct English equivalent to that level of politeness, but I think we can all understand that “dopes” is not a correct translation here.

The responsibility/blame part goes back to what Deku said to him. “You aren’t Endeavor” - no, he isn't. And no, he isn’t exactly trying to be better. But that kind of mentality only ignores the obvious fact that this all could’ve been prevented, had it not been for Endeavor and his own selfish goals. It was a hero - the “champion of justice” - that committed crimes just like a villain. But it’s unheard of for a hero to do such a thing. Society doesn’t get shaken at its core when it hears about a villain committing a crime. A hero, on the other hand, being found guilty of a criminal record, will lead to people doubting the integrity of heroes altogether and that is not Dabi’s doing. All he does is share the truth.

To round this speech off, we get one last phrase:

“The future coming down the pipeline… is one where all that schmaltz and lip service is gonna get blown away by the chaos!”

The Japanese line says「これから訪れる未来はきってキレイ事など吹けば飛んでく混沌だろうぜ！」

「これから ; korekara 」-> from now on; after this

「訪れる ; otozureru 」-> to arrive

「未来 ; mirai 」-> future

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「きっと ; kitto 」-> surely; without a doubt

「キレイ事; kireigoto」-> glossing over; lip service

「など ; nado 」-> such as

「吹けば ; fukeba 」-> to blow (conditional form of fuku)

「飛んでく ; tondeku」-> to go flying (short for tonde iku)

「混沌 ; konton」-> chaos

「だろう ; darou」-> it seems; don’t you think?

「ぜ ; ze 」-> ending particle for emphasis (more casual/ruder version of yo)

= “Surely, if things like this lip service get blown over, the future coming after this will be chaos flying around.”

In Japanese, there are several conditional forms. The ba form, as used here in fukeba, is used when the preceding clause expresses a condition, which results in natural consequences. In this case, something happens in case pretty things get blown over.

Mirai is one of the words you can use to talk about the future in Japanese. This word is more intangible and more general rather than being about one specific event or person, so everyone will be affected by this.

And with that, we have made it through all of his speech from this chapter, congrats!

Something you may have noticed is that there are plenty of particles you can use at the end of a sentence, usually for emphasis. One of the most common ones you find throughout the chapter are yo and ze. Yo is a pretty standard one to show emphasis, whereas ze is more of a colloquial version of yo that has an assertive feel and is therefore usually only used when speaking in very casual conversations or to someone of lower social status than you. Dabi has used this on Endeavor before and is now also using it on Deku - aka his opponents.

Going back to the start of the chapter when Dabi is mainly focused on Shouto, though, he ends most of his sentences with naa. As mentioned before, this particle is used to express emotions/sentiment.

He also uses that during their first on-screen interaction during the summer camp. While I do think that Dabi is mainly still only seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, I do think that there is also a part of him that does see himself in him and that can somewhat sympathize with him. He isn’t being as rough on him overall (verbally that is), and instead is trying to come off as more emotional, possibly just to appeal more to him.

To sum it up, there are a lot of things that just get lost in translation due to nuances that don’t exist in English. More often than not, though, the villains are being given harsher words, whereas anything related to heroes is softened. Dabi is constantly shown to be someone who puts great care and thought into the words he uses, so there is a lot of that emotional intelligence that gets neglected in the translation and then makes him seem more like someone on a random mission rather than someone who has put genuine thought into this.

There are still so many people in the fandom who, for some reason, think Dabi is in the wrong and irredeemable for having killed thirty people, whilst having the same stance as Deku in thinking that Endeavor is much better because at least he is trying.

While they should both be held accountable for their actions, Dabi has a good point when he said that heroes are to blame for his existence and that their crimes are what will ruin the justice system and not him.

Best Jeanist’s reaction to this whole situation was complaining that Dabi uses his personal past to shed a bad light on the heroes, which summarizes that exact problem of the hero society: That heroes are more concerned with their own image than actually being heroes who go above and beyond to bring about peace and safety.

Seeing Shouto’s reaction, being concerned about his big brother rather than himself, is at the very least giving some hope that at least one person on the hero side is able to see beyond the villain exterior and see them as a human-being - without needing a long speech for it.

We’ll have to wait and see how this is going to continue, but in more likeliness, the official English translation will continue to include its bias.

If you’ve made it this far - thank you so much for reading! This post was filled with a lot of information and trust me when I say some of these lines almost broke me as I tried to understand them. I hope I could clarify some parts of the chapter, though, specifically Dabi’s character, since the official translation loves to change his character.

#bnha #dabi #293 #translation #meta #boku no hero academia #bnha 293 #todoroki #shouto #touya #mha #my hero academia #mine #japanese

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rouiyan · 4 years

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𝘌𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘚 [ 𝘫.𝘫𝘩 ]

⧏ extra follow-up scene for someone to bring home ⧐

synopsis — jaehyun is your brother’s best friend, smart, good-looking, and above all, yours.

✧ medstudent!jung jaehyun x (fem.) reader (featuring older brother!johnny) ✧ established relationship au, college au, brother’s best friend au

✧ genres : fluff, angst ✧ word count : 1.6k ✧ disclaimers : discussion of fears, food.

you tilt your head to the skies outside. they're darkening, fast, and you wonder if your ride will be here in time to resuscitate some of the liveliness that has left your soul. surely enough, exam season proved to be the death of you and winter break was the single strand of hope you were holding out for. sighing, you tug the curtain back closed and look to your phone for the nth time that day, your lockscreen comes up blank.

fingers drumming against the handle of your suitcase, you busy yourself with roving your eyes over the lengths of your apartment once more in search of anything you might've missed. another short sigh is uttered and cut off when the rap of knuckles sounds at the door. you're rushing all of a sudden, how did you miss his car pulling into the parking lot when you've just barely parted your eyes from the window?

checking the peephole, something that should be second nature to any female living alone, is long forgotten as you swing the door open just as a second rap is about to ensue. the man on the other side is who you've been needing to see for the whole duration of the afternoon and the weeks leading up to it.

"hey, sorry, i got caught up with a bunch-"

an 'umph' replaces the rest of his words as you fling your arms around him. jaehyun reciprocates well, wrapping his own arms around your frame and bringing your bodies close, a tight-lipped kiss placed on the left of your forehead whilst mumbling into it, "missed me much?" a chortle of sorts escapes your own mouth, muffled by the thick fabric of his jacket, "been thinking about you all day."

he gives your shoulder a pat, reminiscent of a 'bro pat,' and pulls from you, "we gotta get going, babe." you leave your fingers entwined with his as half of your body reenters your long-forgotten apartment to retrieve your suitcase, of which he takes charge of not a second after. your eyes are on the sky, once again, when the two of you exit the complex, and jaehyun can only question your glances. "something wrong?"

you don't mean to lie to him, but most certainly the words that tumble from your mouth pay no mind towards your sentiments, "nothing, i'm good."

but jaehyun knows you better, likes you more, than either of you are willing to admit. he lets the first half hour of the drive sit in silence. he understands that whatever's sitting on your mind will come to him when you need it to, he knows that you'll share. jaehyun looks over at the cross of your legs and the elbow propped under the window and head propped on your hand. in the faint light that lingers of the sun, he can make out the creases of your brow, the quivering demeanor that sits under the composure you let show. your boyfriend reaches a hand over to your left, lifting it from your lap, finger by finger, and into his palm with tenderness.

you remove your stare out the window and onto him, his dark hairs falling into place across his forehead, head bobbing to the thrum of whatever song was playing in the background of your thoughts. he squeezes tight at the hand, and really, that's all you need to timidly, reassuringly, voice your worries.

"i'm not scared of the dark."

jaehyun waits for you to go on and, when you don't, shifts some of the weight of the conversation onto his shoulders, "i figured as much."

you find your voice a little while after, "and i'm not scared of driving either," musing along to your thoughts and allowing them to be aired aloud as they come, "it's just...things happen in the dark, and well, things happen all the time, but in the dark- you really don't know much when driving."

he's more just trying to nudge you along at this point than actually curious. "are you scared of hitting someone or being hit?" it's that feeling that comes when you care for someone, and when that someone is in the midst of opening up to you and the only thing you can do is receive them well, to reciprocate, to engage and make them feel heard. jaehyun loves the feeling of being the one with whom you open up to.

"both, i mean, what isn't there to be scared about when you're going 60, 70 miles per hours with little to no idea of what's in front of you?" a small, oblique smile etches on his expression, though facing forward, at the way your fingers halt their little trembles and the way your body is now aligned inwards, in his direction rather than out, towards the window. ever so diligent in choosing his words, he's also a great deal prudent in pronouncing his tone placidly when he supports, "perfectly rational."

kicking off a sandal, you hike a leg up onto the passenger seat, tucking it under your thigh and resting your and his entwined hands atop, "you think so? jieun always tells me it's dumb."

"that's just because it doesn't apply to her, not because she doesn't think it can't apply to you." you wonder how your boyfriend articulates himself so well, even as his eyes are set forth and his other hand swerving the car into the lane beside. you nibble, unconsciously, on a fingernail, also looking out into the vast night before you. "then why did you say it's rational? you're fine with driving in the dark." you can't see a thing but you can hear jaehyun's low chuckle reverberate above the consistent hum of the engine and the whipping of wind, "because unlike your best friend, i have enough heart to pay regards to your fears."

at the lilt of his voice, you revert your sights from the black ahead and onto him. jaehyun doesn't look back; he's driving after all, but the little smile that plays on his lips tells you enough. "hm, i'll have to bring that up to her." there's this back and forth that passes between the two of you, something under the current of your conversation and something that you'll only pick up on when remembering back to this episodic memory. it's sure to be episodic.

jaehyun doesn't respond, not for awhile, and you know him well enough to understand that silence is also a love language of his as well. it's a month that you've known him. you wouldn't say it felt like years, there were still years worth of things to discover about each other. rather, it feels like the only thing you understand, mutually and in the undercurrent, is that whatever it is that's playing between the two of you isn't just something in the moment, it's the knowledge that it'll be of the long run ahead.

it's like the feeling of when you first meet someone and you already know that they'll be your best friend. like the first chord of a song that you just know you'll never get sick of. the first whiff of a cologne that you know you'll never mind inhaling for the rest of your livelihood. the first month of a love you know will never fade, no matter the years, the miles apart, the fights, the fears.

you wonder if this is what it feels like for everyone else in the world whose first love is also their last. at least, this is what it feels like for you.

your eyes are on the moon when jaehyun breaches the silence, "you know, i'm sorry about today." head snapping to him at the sound of him speaking, you're pleased to see the moon so lovingly glints in the strands of his hair, his irises, the rings on his left hand, and his hand on the wheel. "what do you mean?"

the seeming afterthought of his seems to have been thought out quite well, for he answers almost instantaneously, as if it were at the tip of his tongue, waiting, "for picking you up late, of course." and though you are unrehearsed, you discern and voice your answer in a similar pace, "no, i'm glad you did."

"why is that?"

"because if you didn't then...we wouldn't have had the talk."

this time, the smile that lights his features is in the crossroads of knowing and loving, understanding and reminiscence for a scene that passed less than an hour ago. jaehyun's hand is now clammy in yours, or yours in his, and he squeezes your palms together then, mortifyingly gross but somehow tolerable in the hands of only each other. a silly smile etched on your face, you glance down to note that the rings that clutter his left hand are absent on his right and that your left hand is bare of any such accessory whatsoever.

he catches the gaze and his smile morphs into one of adoration, affection, unadulterated fondness as he muses, the sound of his voice almost getting caught in the bleakness of silence, "a few years, love, i'll put something on that finger of yours, a few years."

and in a few years, indeed, johnny stands while jaehyun sits beside him. a fork is clinked to the rim of his champagne glass and the gazes of a hundred or so guests turn with intrigue in his direction. he really could go on about how his sister, the bride, had come to this point in her life where a ring would be slid on that finger of hers by none other than his best friend. he could go on about the pumpkin pie, the blanket, the text, the hand soap, the yogurt, the game night. but he doesn't.

instead, johnny, best man to the groom, jung jaehyun, simply announces into the echoes of the reception hall, "i called it."

✧ end note — about an hour later than promised but it's all good (i'm supposed to be on a break anyways, remind me to never say that again because it will probably never hold true). anyways, i hope this tied it all together a little neater than i had left it; i'm quite pleased with how it turned out hehe. okay, have a splendid day, i'll see you around!

#neothestars #neo-constellations #nct jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fics #jung jaehyun #extension of an already fulfilled request #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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pwilzfan73 · 3 years

Text

In Praise of Patrick Wilson, Scream King

The classically trained actor has been acclaimed for his work onstage. But in ghost stories like “Insidious” and “The Conjuring,” he’s proven to be a master of horror.

Patrick Wilson in “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It.” The actor brings both an intensity and a reassurance to the franchise. Credit...Warner Bros.

By Calum Marsh, The New York Times.

June 6, 2021

Ed Warren is sitting in a musty living room in North London, trying to establish contact with a demon. Behind him sits a little girl, said to be possessed. The demon won’t talk, she insists, unless he faces away and gives him some privacy. With his back to the girl, Ed gets down to business. “Now come on out and talk to us,” he says brightly.

Out comes the demon, cackling and taunting in a fiendish, guttural voice, like a cockney Tom Waits. He wants to rattle Ed, but as played by Patrick Wilson, Ed’s not easily rattled. Alongside his wife, Lorraine, he works as a paranormal investigator, and this is hardly his first tête-à-tête with a malignant spirit. “Your father called you Edward,” the demon snarls, trying to get under his skin. But Ed just rolls his eyes and shakes his head impatiently. “You’re not a psychiatrist, and I’m not here to talk about my father,” he says. “Let’s get down to business. What do you say?”

This scene in “The Conjuring 2” (2016), the sequel to the sumptuous, vigorously terrifying “The Conjuring,” encapsulates what these hit movies do so well. The director James Wan shoots the entire conversation in one long, unbroken take, zooming in so slowly that the movement of the camera is virtually undetectable. The demon, in the background, is a sinister blur. Instead, our attention fixes on Ed, staring ahead.

In “The Conjuring 2,” a scene with a demon in the background depends entirely on the range of emotion in Wilson’s face.Credit...Warner Bros.

Wan is demanding a lot of his lead here — the effect of the scene hinges entirely on Wilson, and without a cut, in extreme close-up, he has nowhere to hide. But he proves more than capable. The five-minute scene is an acting tour de force, and one you might not expect in the middle of a haunted house picture.

The range of emotions in Ed’s face is mesmerizing. Wilson, a classically trained actor with a background in stage dramas and Broadway musicals, is able to do so much with subtle changes in the cast of his eyes and his manner that you can tell from moment to moment exactly how he is feeling — apprehensive, irritated, disturbed, chagrined. For a split second, his composure waivers. Then he steels himself, blinks and gains it back. This is a frightening confrontation, to be sure. But it’s compelling mainly for the intensity that Wilson exudes.

Of course, Wilson, who plays Ed again in the new sequel, “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It,” has been a known talent for more than 20 years. In the early 2000s, he earned Tony Award nominations for his starring roles in the musicals “The Full Monty” and “Oklahoma!,” and in 2003 he was nominated for an Emmy and a Golden Globe for “Angels in America,” the television adaptation of Tony Kushner’s play in which he played a gay Mormon attorney struggling with his sexuality during the AIDS crisis.

“Angels in America” is a more straightforward acting showcase, and Wilson’s performance, full of stifled passion and moral compromise, is sensitive and powerful. He shares scenes with Al Pacino and Meryl Streep, but his is the most affecting turn.

Like many celebrated stage actors before him, Wilson soon tried to parlay his growing prestige into movie stardom. The results have been mixed. Over the next few years, he appeared in a number of high-profile Hollywood movies, but many of them were poorly received, like the limp remake “The Alamo,” the over-the-top domestic thriller “Lakeview Terrace” and the big-screen version of “The A-Team.” When he starred as the reluctant superhero Nite Owl II in Zack Snyder’s ambitious adaptation of the graphic novel “Watchmen,” critics complained that he was miscast.

It was in 2010 that Wilson found an unexpected niche: the horror movie. That year, he starred in “Insidious,” an early experiment in the producer Jason Blum’s low-budget horror revolution and a creepy, atmospheric ghost story with a playful touch of David Lynch.

Wilson played Josh Lambert, who, for the first two acts, seems like the typical horror movie patriarch: stalwart, steadying and, as the haunting begins to escalate, staunchly disbelieving. He spends a lot of time reassuring his wife that she must be imagining the scary things she’s been seeing around the house and that ghosts aren’t real. Until it turns out that ghosts are real, and that in fact Josh has a history with them.

Patrick Wilson opposite Rose Byrne in “Insidious.” He does so much with a stock character. Credit...FilmDistrict

In “Insidious: Chapter 2,” he’s an evil spirit pretending to be human to his family, which includes Barbara Hershey, left, Ty Simpkins and Byrne.Credit...Matt Kennedy/FilmDistrict

At the end of the second act, it’s revealed that Josh had an encounter with a demon as a child, but that his memories had been repressed. And Wilson, as he accepts this information, manages to subtly disclose a lifetime of trauma. With a faint shifting of the eyes and delicate tensing of the muscles, he conveys flashes of bone-deep dread lingering at the back of his subconscious. Suddenly, a familiar and somewhat flat character gains a new dimension, as Wilson transforms a stock type into someone dynamic and real.

Wilson reprises the part in “Insidious: Chapter 2,” with Josh’s body inhabited by a malevolent demon and Josh’s soul trapped in the spirit world. As the demon-Josh, Wilson has the difficult task of playing an evil spirit pretending to be human, convincing his loved ones that he’s the same old Josh as he secretly conspires to kill them. Occasionally, the mask of the happy husband slips, and Wilson reveals a glimpse of frenzied menace. It’s a terrifying performance reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in “The Shining.”

Ed Warren is Josh Lambert’s opposite. Ed’s role in “The Conjuring” movies is a stabilizing presence.

He and Lorraine (played by the wonderful Vera Farmiga) are called on to investigate happenings that seem to defy scientific explanation, and their arrival on the scene, usually after ghosts and demons have done some preliminary haunting, is accompanied by a sense of reassurance that is rare in horror movies. Wilson gives the calming impression of unflappable expertise, an almost fatherly stolidity, not unlike what Tom Hanks brings to many roles. However frightened we may be, we’re heartened that Ed knows what he’s doing.

Patrick Wilson with Vera Farmiga in “The Conjuring.” Their chemistry helps ground the movie.Credit...Michael Tackett/Warner Bros.

Ed is a man of God, investigating the demonic possession on behalf of the church, and one of the most striking things about Wilson’s performance is the intensity of his religious conviction. When he thrusts a cross at a spirit to dispel its power or reads Scripture in Latin to save the day, he doesn’t seem to be simply holding props or quoting dialogue but to regard these objects and rituals with palpable awe. He makes you feel Ed’s faith, as well as his belief in evil and the supernatural. It makes the scary stuff scarier and feel more real.

Wilson and Farmiga’s screen chemistry has been widely praised, but it’s difficult to overstate just how potent they are together. Their warmth and tenderness are a crucial reprieve from the pulse-quickening horror around them, and the affection they show one another is appealing precisely because it contrasts so sharply with the rest of the action. They are so magnetic that their minor roles at the beginning of the “Conjuring” spinoff “Annabelle Comes Home” practically spoils the rest of the movie: Having had the pleasure of watching them at the start, you’re disappointed to see them leave.

Shortly after Ed’s confrontation with the demon in “The Conjuring 2,” he notices an acoustic guitar in the corner of the same room. The family of the possessed little girl hands it over to him, and he proceeds to imitate Elvis Presley and sing “Can’t Help Falling in Love” in its entirety. The scene does not advance the plot. It’s not a misdirect; it doesn’t culminate in some twist or revelation or jump scare. The openness and gentle humor Wilson embodies is worth a dozen heart-stopping scares: Indeed, that openness and humor are what makes the scares worth anything in the first place. “The Conjuring 2” is already 136 minutes — a more prudent editor might have advised cutting the extraneous scene. But this moment, so earnest in its sentiment, is the heart of the movie. Like Wilson’s performance, it’s perfect.

#patrickwilson #pwilzfan73 #actor #movies #verafarmiga #patrick wilson #theconjuringthedevilmademedoit #edwarren #lorrainewarren #insidiouschapter2 #insidious #rose byrne #the new york times

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

4+1 Taylor’s short edition

Daniel x Taylor (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor

Summary: The four times Daniel teased Taylor about being short and the one time she got her revenge.

Requested by my platonic spouse @hopeveon Hope you enjoy it bro! (sorry for the wait) Love, Vy ❤

There are times in Taylor’s life she wishes she was the high-heels-to-the-store type of person. Maybe then her height wouldn’t hinder her from reaching the top shelves where her favorite cereal is kept.

She’s been standing in front of the raft, glaring the orange box of cereal down as if that way she’ll eventually convince it to fall on its own right into her arms.

This is one of those ‘I wish I could wear heels without maneuvering around like a baby giraffe’ moments. Not that the heels would help her much considering how high up the shelf is but it’d still give her some level of advantage: she’d be able to reach the shelf below the top one and that’d still be considered a bonus.

“Need help, T?”

Then again, who needs heels when they have a tall boyfriend to snatch up things they can’t.

Taylor flashes him a smile as he turns into the aisle she’s standing in, the shopping cart he’s pushing already containing the items he was assigned to get. “Could you, for the love of God, grab me one of those?” She asks pointing up at the cereal boxes with clear frustration in her movements.

Daniel shoots her a smirk as he parks the cart, “Why don’t you...” Taylor, sensing the oncoming joke at her shortness, opens her mouth to complain but before she can say a single word, she’s lifted up off the ground, earning a yelp from her. “...get it yourself?” Daniel finishes his previously began sentence, holding his girlfriend up so the boxes are within arm’s reach.

When she takes two, he sets her back down on the floor. Just as she’s about to thank him, however, he ruffles her hair, placing a kiss at the top of her head once he does so. “You’re welcome, shorty.”

And just like that, she swallows her gratitude.

Taylor’s classes finished earlier than Daniel’s today due to some change in the professors’ schedule. That leaves her here, on a bench in the college park, waiting for her boyfriend since she doesn’t want to break their routine and walk to the dorms on her own, leaving him to do the same. They’ve had very little time for one another as of recent because of the upcoming torturous finals that have them worrying and overworking themselves sick. Walking to the dorms is one thing these upcoming exams can’t take away from them, luckily.

As she types another message to Andrew, promising she’d help him with his essay he’s gotta turn in in two days and has no idea how to even start it, she hears the sound of laughter. Laughter which the person is desperately trying to suppress. She looks up from her phone to see Daniel standing on the path a few feet away, one hand clutching the strap of his bag while the other is balled in a fist and pressed against his lips to prevent the aforementioned laughter from escaping him.

When he notices she’s looking, he does his best to keep his composure and still himself but it’s already too late - it’s all been spotted.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Taylor can’t contain the need to ask what has him cracking up so badly, “Take a breath please. What are you even laughing at?“ Finding himself unable to speak without laughing, he just points to her feet which has her even more confused. She raises an eyebrow at him, looking down at her dangling and swinging feet clad in an old pair of Converse. “That explains nothing.” She says, continuing to watch his movements with an unamused look on her face.

Daniel does as she told him - takes a breath - before he opens his mouth to explain, a smile still stretching at the corners of his lips, “You can’t touch the ground, can you?”

It takes a few moments for the words to register and be processed but she’s quick to catch onto yet another one of his increasingly creative jokes. It’s understood without saying that she’s less than impressed by this joke of his when she gets up and proceeds to speed-walk down the path towards the dorms, leaving Daniel rushing to catch up to her, calling her name while laughing his ass off.

III

This carnival date was entirely her idea, but she’d never admit it, obviously. There’s another truth she’d never admit, this one even more embarrassing in her opinion - she wants to win some stuffed animals so she can decorate her dorm which she’s suddenly decided is incredibly barren.

Daniel had no problem agreeing to the idea of a carnival date, especially not when Taylor agreed to go on the rollercoasters with him. The rides aren’t all that impressive but they are enough to get your adrenaline rushing and he’s prepared to settle for that with the added bonus of the fact that Taylor probably wouldn’t have accompanied him if the rides were impressive by his standards.

After a successful negotiation, Daniel’s spent the short but drawn out walk to the first ride they plan on going on with his arm wrapped Taylor’s shoulders, convincing her there’s nothing to be afraid of and that the ride is perfectly safe.

“It doesn’t even go upside down!“ That’s an argument he uses as though it’ll change anything about Taylor’s feelings on the ride or make her any more enthusiastic about getting on. If it were to go upside down she wouldn’t be anywhere near it let alone on it. “Besides, it’s less than three minutes and I’ll be by your side the whole time, T. Nothing to worry about.“

Taylor, unable to say no to the excitement of her boyfriend, succumbs with an eye-roll, “Fine, but if I puke on you it’s your own fault.”

Lifting his hands up in surrender, he continues guiding her to the entrance of the ride where they make it within less than a minute before the ride starts. However, right as she’s about to step onto the platform, Daniel’s arm gently tugs her back. In response to the unexpected gesture Taylor stops in her tracks, turning her head to give him a confused look. Daniel doesn’t reply verbally, but the grin on his face and the tilt of his head that point to a sign displaying the required height to get on the ride say it all.

“It’s your lucky day.“ He laughs, seeing the frown upon her face as a response to the teasing look in his eyes. Taking hold of her hand he leads her away from the ride stifling laughter at the cute displeased furrow of her brows. “Let’s go get you your stuffed animals.“

“Great game!“ Taylor claps her hands together when she sees Daniel exit he changing rooms following a particularly intense match that ended in a draw, leaving both teams displeased to a certain degree.

Despite the bitter feeling of not having lost but not having won either, Daniel lets a wide smile spread across his face when he sees the excitement in Taylor’s eyes. He knows she’s clueless about more than half the things going on in the field but her support is limitless and unconditional which makes him so incredibly fond of her - even more than he already was.

“Thanks, it could’ve been better though.“ He replies, shrugging as he leans down to give Taylor a hug, “You coming to the party with us?“

Pressing her lips in a thin line when the two pull away, she gives him an apologetic shake of her head, “Sorry, I have an essay to finish and an exam to study for. I hope you have fun though.”

He does an expert job of covering up his displeasure with her absence as to not make her feel guilty about it, “Don’t worry, wish I could help you with it. I mean, I don’t have to go...”

Taylor scoffs, giggling a little bit at the cuteness of the boy standing before her, “Nonsense.” She says with a playful eye roll as she pushes up on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Just as she’s about to turn around and walk away, she catches glimpse of the oddly sentimental look in his eyes and the small smile on his lips, lightyears away in comparison to the one he wore previously. “What is it?”

“Nothing.“ He shrugs yet again, “You’re just super cute when you do that.“

Taylor huffs, “You’re lucky you’re tall.”

She was practically asking for it

“Nope, I’m lucky you’re short.“

That earns him a punch to the shoulder before she storms off a frown and a blush on her face. And a smile she’s suppressing.

The Revenge

It’s spring, the smell of the freshly bloomed flowers and trees tickles their nostrils as the couple walk in the park, the sunlight warming their skin. Spring break has never been an exciting time period for either of them. Hell, they didn’t even go home and chose to stay in the dorms instead so they could spend the time they had with each other rather than with their families who’d either bore them to death with awkward questions or make them regret coming back via a different method.

Daniel and Taylor are discussing the movie they just saw, completely unaware of the world around them as they do so. That happens frequently - when they’re in each other’s company, lost in conversation, they often end up forgetting they’re not the only people on this planet. Not the only things either.

“Oh come on, he was so annoying. I like a good villain as much as you do but he was ridiculous.“ Taylor complains, one hand resting above her eyes to shield them from the sunlight in order to be able to look up at Daniel who in return is gazing down at her, head slightly bowed.

“That just makes him cooler - he’s so ridiculous and such an airhead but he’s super intelligent. Did you see what he came up with? That doesn’t say ‘ridiculous’ to me.“ Daniel replies, receiving a frustrated huff from Taylor in return.

“Whatever, he’s still super annoying and no amount of intelligence can change that.“ She persists, frowning as if that’ll emphasize her point better.

Just as Daniel’s about to reply, however, he’s quickly silenced by the smacking of branches against his face. He panics momentarily, caught off-guard by the not painful but still unpleasant impact. But when he hears Taylor’s laughter, he brings himself to open his eyes and stop his arms from flailing around in self-defense of the twiggy branches that he walked into. When he turns to look at Taylor he sees she’s not at all affected by the same affliction, seeing as how her height allows her to pass right under the branches untouched.

“That is what you get! That is what you earned!” She calls back to him as she keeps walking down the path, “You joke about my height, Mother Nature’s gonna punish you.”

This gets a laugh out of him as well as he jogs to catch up to her, “Hey, I never joke about your height! I just ACKNOWLEDGE it in a playful manner.” He corrects her, looking down hoping for a laugh or something but only receiving a glare in return.

Before another set of branches hits him in the face.

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Reflection of Beauty Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for a date yet to be released in EN! 🍒

Phone call between Gavin and Mr Keller before the date: here

Candlelit Night Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

Trivia regarding the name of the date:

This date is called 惊鸿照影来, which is part of a couplet from “Shenyuan”, a poem by Lu You written in the Song Dynasty

Rough translation of the full couplet: Alas, the green water under the forlorn bridge / Once reflected the charming face of my beloved one!

It was inspired by the poet’s own love story, where he was forced to leave his wife because his mother didn’t like her. Even so, their love never ceased. Ten years later, they met again in Shenyuan Garden (which was also the place he first fell in love with her). Lu You inscribed a poem on a stone wall, conveying his anger and sorrow towards their separation. A few days after seeing the poem, she died from depression :’<

“Shenyuan” was written later on as a memorialisation of his undying love. It conveys how revisiting old places makes one remember past lovers and sentiments

[ CHAPTER ONE ]

The date begins with MC and Gavin having a rehearsal for the sequel of the “Three Lifetimes” play

The audience had a deep impression of them in “Three Lifetimes”, so Mr Keller wrote them into the sequel as second leads

In the play, the town looks forward to the marriage between Lady Su (the female lead) and Swordsman Bai (Gavin)

But Lady Su is in love with Swordsman Bai’s friend, a scholar (the male lead)

Meanwhile, Swordsman Bai is in love with the character MC is playing (a high-ranking palace maid and a close friend of Lady Su)

After the rehearsal, Mr Keller gives them suggestions on how to improve, and tells Gavin to gaze at MC and hold her hand during a particular scene:

Gavin: ...all right.

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

Once the rehearsal is over, Gavin is a sweetheart as always, bringing water and a few bananas over to MC with this face:

Gavin: If it isn’t enough, I can get a few more?

MC: There’s enough, there’s enough.

Su Xuan, the actress playing Lady Su, tells them to change outfits for the photoshoot:

Su Xuan: I’ll help you put on some make-up first, then marry you off beautifully to your Mr Gavin. Come, close your eyes.

Without giving me a chance to explain or argue, she skilfully helps me with my make-up, as though she’s really helping a sister prepare for her wedding.

Su Xuan: Mm, that’s more like it.

She pulls me to my feet. After looking me over carefully, she tilts her head and smiles at something behind me.

Su Xuan: What does the groom think?

Before I have time to react, Su Xuan pushes me lightly, and I fall into familiar arms.

Gavin: Pretty.

Gavin, who has walked out of the changing room, is also wearing a matching set of red wedding attire.

The colour, which isn’t typically found on him, suits him unexpectedly well.

His easy-going independence has been toned down, replaced with fiery passion.

Gavin: What are you looking at?

MC: This outfit really suits you.

MC: ...very handsome!

Gavin: [coughs] ...you look very pretty in red too.

Gavin’s ears have a tinge of redness. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes containing insuppressible surprise and warmth as he looks at me.

Su Xuan: All right, you two “newlyweds” can appreciate each other after the shoot! The photographer this time is quite picky.

As she speaks, she pulls our hands together.

The both of us stop talking, perhaps due to the dry air around us, or the warmth surfacing in our eyes.

Gavin holds onto my hand tightly.

[ CHAPTER TWO: A flashback ]

Location: Outside Lynn’s Kitchen

By the time Minor and Gavin leave the noodle shop, the sky is mostly dark.

Only traces of the sunset glow faintly from behind the tall buildings.

Minor: It’s so difficult to get tickets this Chinese New Year... I’m always struggling during this part of the year, and spending the New Year’s alone here is too cheerless. Gavin, what are your plans? Eh... why am I even asking - you’re definitely spending it with Boss.

Gavin is the same as always, letting Minor ramble on at his ear.

Only when he hears the final sentence does a corner of his heart feel a light tug.

Gavin: Mm. I promised to help Mr Keller with her.

Gavin smiles faintly without even realising it himself.

Minor: Huh? ...even though I find this method a little off, it’s not bad I guess! Boss has been asking everyone in the office what dishes they usually make for New Year’s. It made me curious... so you two are spending New Year’s together!

Minor’s words cause Gavin to recall the few memories of “spending the New Year’s” he has.

New Year’s should be a festival of celebration. There was a time when he looked forward to it.

It’s just that afterwards, this day gradually became no different from a normal one.

That is, until the girl reappeared in his life, drawing the link between this day and warmth.

It made him start looking forward to it again.

Minor: Bro Gavin? What are you thinking about? It’s rare to see this look on your face... I got it!

Minor makes an exaggerated expression, predictably receiving Gavin’s neither hard nor soft punch.

Gavin: Minor, are there places selling New Year goods near her home?

Minor: Bro Gavin, you want to... buy New Year goods?!

Gavin: What’s wrong with that?

Minor: Nothing nothing nothing...

Gavin: ...your smile is a little nauseating.

Minor: I’m just happy! Then again, as compared to preparing in advance, there will be more of an atmosphere if you pick them out together!

Gavin: Makes sense.

Gavin nods, quickening his pace slightly.

Minor: Bro Gavin, where are you headed to next?

Several images flash across his mind - a warm light in the living room left on for him, a table with the home-cooked dishes he mentioned liking, and the girl waiting for him on the sofa, hugging a pillow.

Gavin: Home.

[ CHAPTER THREE ]

The photoshoot turns out to be more difficult than MC expected

Photographer: You must imagine - you two are about to elope, so it has to be dynamic! And yet have a tinge of... hesitation and worry! You’ve got to feel it! Change your pose!

MC and Gavin struggle to understand the photographer’s abstract descriptions

MC suggests they pretend to chat while sitting on the grass

MC: ...the weather is getting cold. Does Sparky need to be sent for maintenance?

Once the words leave my mouth, I’m filled with a sense of regret. This topic is too forced...

Gavin seems to be stunned for a moment, then the corners of his lips lift gently.

Gavin: Mm, I have plans to do so. We can find a day to go together.

MC: Ah, okay!

Gavin smiles, lifting his hand to tuck stray tendrils of hair behind my ear.

His amber eyes, which are filled to the brim with smiles, hold my blinking and grinning expression within them.

Photographer: Very good! That’s the right feeling! Could the both of you try lying down? Girl, close your eyes and lift your head slightly.

MC: ...all right. Like this?

I follow the photographer’s instructions and lie down at Gavin’s side, closing my eyes.

In the darkness, a familiar warmth encases me tightly, allowing me to have a peace of mind and lean into his arms.

We are very close to each other. His unique scent entwines with the reed grass that has been dried by the sun, reminding me of the summer we spent together. A breeze brushes past us.

It makes one want to draw even nearer.

Photographer: Very good very good. Can the man include some movements to add on to the idea of newlyweds interacting?

Gavin: ...uhm.

I hear Gavin’s breath halt for a moment, as though he’s deep in thought.

After a while, he seems to have thought of something, and he laughs softly.

Gavin: MC, don’t move.

Right after he finishes speaking, I feel a lock of hair near my ear being lifted gently.

I don’t dare to move a single inch, nor dare to open my eyes. I leave myself entirely to Gavin.

The frequency of my heartbeat increases, and a numbness travels from the roots of my hair to my spine. My hair seems to be gently held in his palm.

Gavin: ...let me know if it hurts. I’ve never tried this before.

Even though he says this, his actions are cautious and tender.

All I can feel are the slight vibrations from my hair, the lock of hair ascending and descending along with his fingers, and then falling by my ear again.

I purse my lips tightly, frantically trying to control my rapid breathing. I’m afraid that I might accidentally ruin this ambience.

The shutter continuously sounds. The photographer seems to be saying something again, but I can no longer hear him clearly.

Next to me, Gavin’s breathing brushes against my forehead and the tips of my hair. The breath, which carries a certain warmth, feels like a light kiss.

Even though this is just a photoshoot, I wish time would give us this moment for a little while longer.

The words he said during the Qixi Festival last year surge from the depths of my heart, and once again gather in the centre.

I can’t help but feel that even if our destinies entangle and cross, and fate only allows for fleeting meetings, we will ultimately accompany each other at the very end.

In my ear, the sound of his heartbeat is akin to him giving me a definite answer. One after the other, regular and resolute.

Photographer:

Gavin: MC, we can get up now.

I open my eyes slowly. The past few minutes have felt like a small, beautiful dream.

In Gavin’s hand are locks of our hair tied together with a red string.

Noticing my gaze, Gavin clear his throat unnaturally.

Gavin: ...when the idea of “newlyweds” was brought up, I could only think of this.

[Trivia: In Chinese culture, one’s hair represents one’s self. During a traditional Chinese wedding, the couple would each cut a lock of their hair and tie them together. This is called 结发 (”joining of hair”). It symbolises the couple becoming one flesh and blood, and how they would be connected forever... T^T]

I nod, not daring to meet his eyes.

His short sentence channels layers of emotions in my heart, converging into unstoppable ripples.

In a most straightforward way, his unembellished words leave a long and sweet aftertaste in my heart.

MC: Let’s go over there so the next group can use this place...

Gavin: Hold on...

Without waiting for Gavin to finish, I’ve already sat up. Only when I feel a light tugging sensation do I realise that my hair is still tied to Gavin’s.

MC: Ah-

Gavin: ...does it hurt? Don’t worry, I’ll untie the knot.

Gavin’s voice, which carries within it concern, is very close to the top of my head. In the next second, the strands of hair that are pulled are immersed in a tender warmth.

Gavin: ...I might have tied it a little too tightly.

MC: Let me try...

Gavin agrees with a sound, cooperating by bending down slightly to make it easier to untie the red string.

I try pulling at the end of the string, but the knot refuses to budge.

Gavin: ...

MC: It does seem a little tight... could it be a dead knot?

Gavin seems to have leaned in a little closer. Perhaps it’s just my misperception, but he seems even closer than he was during the photoshoot.

His temperature and breath make my face feel increasingly flushed. I focus on the knot in my hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice my flustered state.

MC: N-next time, don't tie it so tightly! Or else I’ll leave it to you to untie.

I pretend to be angry, wanting to break the atmosphere that makes my heart go into a frenzy.

Gavin: All right, I got it.

When I hear his voice in my ear, I know fully well that my attempts are futile.

When the red string is finally released and falls to the ground, I release a huge sigh, yet feel an inexplicable emptiness in my heart.

It’s as though my fate with Gavin has become untied.

They get called back to the rehearsal

MC: We should go over then.

Gavin: ...hold on.

Gavin pauses, then takes the red string from my hand.

In a slightly clumsy manner, he uses the string to tie a knot at the end of my plait.

Gavin: This is also considered joining of the hair.

Gavin looks at me, his eyes clear, as though he has seen through all my emotions.

Gavin: Let’s go.

While he speaks, he takes my hand and we leave.

I hold onto Gavin firmly, the red string on my hair swaying gently along with our footsteps.

We will never miss each other again.

[ CHAPTER FOUR ]

At 8pm, the play finally begins

On stage, MC is supposed to read a letter to Gavin

But when she opens it up, she realises there’s nothing on the letter even though her script is supposed to be on it

Gavin notices that something is amiss, so he steps in to calm her down while pretending everything is normal

MC starts reciting her lines based on memory, but starts panicking in fear of ruining the play

Gavin then takes the letter from her and pretends to read from it, reciting her lines perfectly

The First Act of the play comes to an end, and there’s an intermission

MC decides to thank Gavin properly after the play is over, but Su Xuan suddenly looks for her:

Su Xuan: MC, are you free now? Pass the silk ball to Gavin! I don’t know why, but the prop hasn’t been brought over yet.

MC: Okay! I’ll go now!

Thinking of the little time left, I grab the silk ball and run towards the other end without much thought.

In the next scene, Gavin and I are supposed to enter the stage from different sides, which is why I have to cross through the entire backstage to reach him.

The silk ball is an indispensable prop in the next scene. Also... I have a “thank you” to say to him in person.

With this in mind, I quicken my pace, and find a familiar figure afar off in the busy backstage.

MC: Gavin! I’m over here!

I stand on my tiptoes and wave at him, thinking of ways to reach him even faster.

Hearing this, Gavin raises his head. After seeing me, he immediately weaves through the crowd and walks towards me.

People are moving to and fro. Our eyes only have each other, and we go against the flow of people, walking towards our only focus.

Staff: Prepare for the second half!

When I’m only a few steps away from him, the countdown for the second half of the play resounds.

MC: Gavin, this is for you!

In my desperation, I lift my hand. The silk ball flies in a slightly shaky arc, landing steadily in Gavin’s arms.

[Trivia: In Chinese culture, the silk ball (绣球 - ”xiu qiu”) is used to symbolize love. Giving it to someone reflects the giving of one’s heart. If a woman is in search of a fated life partner, she will toss the ball high into the air in a crowd. The person who catches the silk ball would become the person’s husband]

MC: Gavin, about earlier...

Staff: MC? What are you doing here? Go back, we’re about to start soon. The snatching scene is next, and it’s very important.

MC: Please wait! I haven’t finished what I wanted to say...

The staff doesn’t give me a chance to continue, and pulls me to the other end.

I turn my head towards Gavin, and I have no choice but to swallow the words of gratitude I couldn’t say to him in time.

Gavin: [unintentionally sexy whisper] Wait for me.

Gavin stands in place and looks at me, mouthing those words to me.

The bell from the venue rings, and the noise from the audience gradually dissipates.

Staff: The Second Act! Begins!

[ CHAPTER FOUR: A flashback ]

Location: Gavin’s home

MC: “It’s good, and I doubt the lady would refuse, but...”

Gavin: Are you still looking at your lines?

MC: ...Gavin? Why are you here!

[Note: I have no idea why MC asks this since the backdrop is of his own house LOL]

Gavin walks over with a blanket in his hand.

MC: The rehearsal is the day after tomorrow, so I’m trying to make use of my time to familiarise myself with the script, especially the scene where I’m reading the letter. Even though I should be able to read straight from the letter on the actual day, I think it’s better to memorise it just in case... Gavin, why don’t you accompany me in going through the lines!

Gavin nods and sits beside me. After covering me with the blanket, he takes the script from my hands.

Gavin: From here?

MC: Okay!

Gavin and I go through the dialogue. Places I usually get stuck at become miraculously smooth.

Without realising it, we’ve gone through the entire script.

I flip through the script, marking out places requiring additional attention.

MC: I feel like Mr Keller has taken reference from the personalities of the actors when writing the lines. I keep thinking that the lines sound like what you would say.

While speaking, I let out a yawn.

Gavin: If you’re tired, rest. We can continue tomorrow.

As the year draws to a close, there are more things than usual to settle at work. And when I come home, I’d have to familiarise myself with the script. It’s natural that I’d feel fatigued.

MC: You don’t have anything on tomorrow?

Gavin: I don’t have work tomorrow, so we can practice our lines.

MC: That’s great!

A warmth gushes out of my heart. I shift closer to Gavin, sharing half the blanket with him. We look at the script together.

MC: This is so much warmer!

Gavin: ...do you still want to look at it?

MC: Mm, let’s look through the letter scene again. “If you lack medical knowledge... attach some... scattered silver... I hope to do my best...”

The words in front of me gradually become blurry and distorted. After a certain line, I lean on Gavin’s shoulder in a dazed state, giving up on my fight against sleep.

Gavin: MC? Are you asleep?

The girl, who loftily said they would look at the script together just a few minutes ago, is now leaning softly against his shoulder, sleeping peacefully.

Gavin doesn’t wake her up, and simply covers her with a jacket. He flips to the first page of the script, quietly reading the girl’s lines, and memorising them.

The city is asleep, but the room filled with the breath of two people is still illuminated with a tender light.

The all-knowing stars in the night sky are silent, and will guard the small world belonging to these two people.

[ CHAPTER FIVE ] The curtains are drawn slowly. I once again step onto the stage, following the script.

In this scene, Gavin will snatch the silk ball, and I will hand it to the male lead so he can bring his beloved home.

For the scene to be more realistic, the actors are allowed to walk around spontaneously.

As such, I have to run past various settings, weave through the crowd, and finally reach the stipulated spot.

MC: Swordsman Bai?

Panting slightly, I stand underneath the embroidery building, looking for Gavin.

[Trivia: In ancient times, women who were more socially well-to-do would do embroidery in embroidery buildings.]

The sense of deja vu blurs my perception of the boundaries between the play and reality.

A strong wind arrives as promised. Following the glint of a sword, a path forms in the crowd, interrupting my thoughts.

Gavin is dressed in red. One hand holds onto the silk ball, and the other sheathes his sword. He walks straight towards me.

Gavin: Trivial matters held me back, and I seek forgiveness from the lady.

The corners of his lips are curled into an open smile. His eyes are wilful and tender.

The setting of the blue sky, the red silk in the surroundings, and the startled magpie birds surround Gavin, who is donned in wedding attire. It makes one unable to look away.

At this moment, he finally stands before me again.

The crowd and the noise of the world - they no longer have anything to do with me.

Gavin places the silk ball into my hands steadily.

Even though I know this is a script, and that it’s part of the plot, I can’t help but feel that the red silk ball in my hands is akin to a solemn promise.

A greedy thought even flits across my mind - maybe it’d be good if the story ends like this.

On stage, the silk ball is finally handed to the scholar. The lady takes the silk ball and holds it with her lover.

Under the embroidery building, Gavin suddenly takes my hand.

Gavin: Perhaps this may be abrupt. MC, are you willing to marry me and become my wife?

MC: ?!

Was there such a line in the script?

I look at Gavin with confusion.

Gavin doesn’t say a word. He stares straight at me without a hint of evasion.

There are so many emotions within that pair of eyes, leaving me unable to make sense of them. I have no idea what to say.

Off-stage, the audience erupt in thunderous cheers.

I glance to the side. Mr Keller, who has been watching the entire play, nods in my direction, signalling that I should continue in my role.

My confusion dissipates when I see Gavin’s amber eyes, which are filled with deep, tender emotions and lingering affection. There is even an undercurrent of questioning and anticipation.

It’s as though the answer I give would be an entrustment of the rest of my life.

My heart beats loudly in my chest, feeling like it would leap out from my throat in the next second.

MC: I... I accept.

I blush and respond, not even sure if my words are loud enough to be heard by the audience off-stage.

However, every single word is heard by Gavin, who has received my feelings.

With a gentle laugh, he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up.

Gavin brings me up the embroidery building to stand alongside the male and female leads.

At the end of the play, there is thunderous applause from off-stage. There are even a few audience members who are fully immersed in the story, sending us their blessings.

In the midst of the applause, I tilt my head and lean towards Gavin’s ear, speaking softly.

MC: Gavin, just now... I don’t remember seeing such a scene in the script?

Gavin: Mm, it was impromptu.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? I even thought...

Gavin doesn’t respond further, only smiling at me.

Facing the cheering audience, the four of us bow and thank them for watching, as though worshipping the vast sea of people.

After the play, everyone involved in the show gathers together to celebrate over dinner

MC: Gavin, thank you so much for today! It’s a good thing you saved the show! Back then... I really didn’t know what to do.

While I speak, I raise the drink in my hand, clinking it lightly against Gavin’s.

Gavin: You were looking for me just now to say this?

He raises his drink, making up for the delayed clink.

MC: Yeah. I wanted to thank you properly, but time was so tight that I couldn’t find the chance. Come to think of it, how did you know my lines...

Gavin: When we were rehearsing lines together, I just memorised them as well.

Gavin lowers his head and takes a mouthful of food, maintaining his usual casual attitude. Noticing that I’ve been watching him, he rubs his neck in slight confusion.

Gavin: Um... is there something on my face?

I immediately shake my head. A warm wave of emotions overflow from my heart. Countless words of gratitude are lodged in my throat, but I feel that no matter what I say, it would not be enough.

In the end, I silently fill a bowl of soup for him.

At the table, everyone is eating and drinking merrily, and the atmosphere is warm.

MC: After spending so many days with the crew, thinking of how we might not have the chance to get together like this again makes me feel quite reluctant to part with them.

I lean against Gavin, looking at the lively crew around us.

MC: Gavin, I suddenly thought about something from my childhood. My dad used to be busy producing programs, and would bring me to the recording site to spend the New Year’s. The site was always busy, but no matter how pressed they were for time, everyone would sit down together and have an especially sumptuous dinner. Once I grew up, I also started spending my New Year’s working. I still remember that the warm ambience back then was the same as right now.

Gavin: Mm, I can imagine. I used to spend New Year’s with my teammates, and it was very lively.

MC: Even though it’s not at home, it’s still a different kind of fun!

Gavin: Since we’re on this topic, [coughs]...

Gavin seems to have something very important to say, but he takes another sip of his drink and stops.

I blink, waiting for him quietly. I can vaguely guess what he wants to say.

In the end, he seems to become determined. He clears his throat and turns his head to look at me with a serious expression.

Gavin: Over the next few days, if you don’t have anything else planned....

Gavin: Spend the New Year’s with me at home.

His tone is light, but the look in his eyes tells me just how solemn this invitation is. Even the tips of his ears turn an unnatural shade of red.

I am very certain that, to the both of us, these words are the most precious and serious treasures from the deepest parts of his heart.

MC: Okay.

I nod heavily in response. Since a very long time ago, this answer has not changed.

The corners of Gavin’s lips turn up slightly. Those eyes, which always have an undercurrent of emotions, look like a glacier that has melted in spring, tenderly melting into a warm current.

Gavin: I’ll pick you up then.

MC: Mm!!

The way his lips are curled upwards is as though all the uncertainties in his heart have found a most potent answer.

I find myself smiling along with him.

MC: I recently learnt how to make a few New Year’s dishes, so we can try them.

Gavin: All right, I can help. My skills... have improved.

I freeze for a moment, making a sudden realisation.

MC: Have you been practicing in secret? Looks like teaching you how to cook was a wise decision.

Gavin: ...I occasionally tried to.

MC: I’ll have to check the results of my teaching this year then!

Gavin: No problem.

Gavin smiles, nodding his head with some measure of seriousness. He suddenly thinks of something.

Gavin: Oh yes, do we need to buy things like spring couplets?

MC: Mmhmm, we also have to buy the character “福”! It will only feel like New Year’s when we have these things pasted.

[Trivia: During the Chinese New Year, households paste an inverted red coloured square with the character 福 (“fu”, which means auspiciousness, blessing or happiness) on doors, walls, etc. to usher in such tidings]

I continue talking, listing on my fingers the items I want to purchase.

In my memory, my aunties’ fierce interrogations don’t seem that long ago. In just a blink of an eye, a new year has arrived.

[Note: She’s making reference to the Spring Festival Date!]

This time, we can leave our time to each other.

In a place belonging only to us, flipping open a new year’s calendar together.

The atmosphere at the dining table is just right. The sound of clinking glasses and celebration comes in waves. No one notices this small corner.

We clasp each others’ fingers quietly.

Our pulses, only separated by a layer of skin, call out to each other in the language of warmth.

I’m so lucky to have you by my side.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #SOFT GAVIN #pardon the one billion screenshots of Gavin I included in this

202 notes · View notes

axther · 4 years

Text

black tie occasion (and other little things that make you fall in love)

prompt: slow dancing

bakugou katsuki x reader

rule number one of proms: there’s always a balcony

Dedicated to @heroinepose - finally, a good bakugou fic

Thanks to @add-a-teaspoon-of-heroism for giving the idea of a suit. Nish, your mind-

Thank you to @samanthaa-leanne for beta’ing for me!!

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t much of a smiler, YN had concluded.

Sure, he smiled, but it was more the kind of smile that brought a chill into your bones, especially if you were at the receiving end of it. There were smiles that he had around his friends, but they were still guarded, still angry.

YN had made it her goal to see Bakugou smile, for real.

Truthfully speaking, she hadn’t known Bakugou for very long. She entered Class 1-B and saw him in intermediate periods. He was growly and big and angry, and yet, YN found him endearing. It went without saying that most of her class was confused, but YN let them stay confused. She went with what her heart said, and her heart said that the bundle of rage was more than he let on.

“A prom? What the hell?”

Speak of the devil.

YN paused mid-step from the lunchroom to glance over at the spiky blonde. Surrounding him was his posse, all powerful quirk users in their own rights. The red-haired one, Kirishima, patted Bakugou on the back.

“Wow! A real prom!” She giggled, linking arms with Mina.

“Don’t sweat it, bro! We can get some cute dates, have a nice night, and get some good food!”

“Aren’t proms an American thing…?” Sero murmured. “Why now?”

“I know!” Seemingly out of nowhere, Midoriya Izuku popped up with a nervous grin. His own group of friends were close by, and Ochako skipped to the info board with a smile.

“It’s to create a sense of unity. It’s for all the classes in the first year, and since there’s such a rivalry between the classes, Principal Nezu wanted everyone to have an evening together!” Midoriya listed it off like he was a dictionary, and YN titled her head.

“Something the matter?”

Shinsou’s voice came directly behind YN and she jumped with a squeak. Several heads turned (though not Bakugou’s notably) at her cry, and Shinsou chuckled.

“You looking at the board?” He hummed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The strap of her bag was jostled. “Or at Bakugou?”

“None of the above,” YN huffed, turning away. “I was looking at the expanse between time and space.”

“What the hell?” His nose scrunched up a little, watching her walk away with sass. He shook his head before glancing over at Bakugou, who was absorbed in berating Kaminari over something. His eyes flicked from him to YN, who was nearly skipping down the hall. Shinsou placed his hands in his pockets.

“Huh.”

The next month has filled with a buzz, between students asking each other out and someone actually asking Midnight if she could be their date. It was a month of pure giddiness.

Except for YN.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the courage to ask Bakugou to the dance. She knew several other people had asked him and he had turned all of them down, spitting insults the entire way. With every rejection, fear crawled into her heart.

“Where’s all that lion-heart gusto?” Shinso told her on the Monday before the prom. “Weren’t you raring to go?”

“Oh, you hush.” YN sat at her usual lunch table, watching the rabid blonde growl and bark at his friends about something.

“Personally, I’m kinda glad.”

YN sat upright almost immediately, fury on her face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Shinsou laid back with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He hummed. “I wanted to ask you. You’re my only girl friend, after all.”

YN’s brow went from furrowed to upturned, eyes wide and cheeks pink.

“Shinsou, you bastard. I thought you were saying that Bakugou and I weren’t a good fit!”

“You aren’t. He’s prideful. You’re calm.”

“Those two aren’t opposites!”

From across the room, Bakugou stopped yelling at Denki and watched YN playfully smack Shinsou’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed.

“Bro…” Kirishima whispered. “She isn’t gonna make the first move.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He barked, looking as though the whites of his eyes had dominated his entire demeanour.

“Ha!” Mina tittered. She leaned back with a wide smile. “The mighty Katsuki Bakugou, whipped like a little bitch.”

“I am not a little bitch!”

In the days leading up to the prom, YN was nervous.

She didn’t think she should’ve, considering she nailed a date with Shinsou (or, rather, he nailed a date with her) so all she had to do was get an outfit ready.

Unfortunately, her classmates weren’t much help.

She walked over a bit timidly, peeking past YN’s shoulder. “O-Oh!” She gasped. “It’s very pretty…!”

“Wear something sexy!” Setsuna cheered, holding up a short purple dress. “You’d look fine as hell in this!”

“No…” Ibara frowned, placing her hands together. “She must wear something modest that respects the Lord.”

“Wait!” Kendo gasped, holding two dresses that had already been rejected. “YN! What do you want to wear?”

“I dunno…” YN murmured, picking up the skirt a white dress that had apple accents on them. “Pony, you might like this one.”

YN pulled it off the rack and handed it to Pony, pointing to the changing room with a grin. “Go, and we see if you like it!”

“Mm!” She nodded. There was something unspoken about it, but Yui looked as though she wanted YN’s thoughts.

She trotted off happily and Yui walked up. She was holding a mid-length black dress.

“Do you like this one, Yui?” YN tilted her head.

“I think you’d look cute! Here, I’ll help the other girls pick something out, and we can have a mini runway show.”

“MM!” Yui smiled and skipped away. YN began picking at dresses to give to the others, walking from the rack when something in the clearance aisle caught her eye.

“Huh?”

“Yeah!” Kendo pulled off a crisp shirt that vaguely reminded YN of a mobster. “Why?”

She picked out a suit jacket, noting the orange hints with the pocket and cuff. She tilted her head and hummed.

“Oy!” She turned, looking at Kendo. “Do they have dress shirts over there?”

YN shrugged, hiding the jacket underneath some of the dresses. She walked over to Kendo and handed off a sporty blue dress, smiling. “Can you put the shirt on top?”

Kendo obliged, walking into a changing room. More dresses were passed around with the girls until everyone had something. Sassy compliments were thrown around (except for when Ibara dragged Setsuna for wearing something that clung to her).

YN sighed happily, running a thumb over the orange fabric. It reminded her of Bakugou, and she felt terrible for putting a guy she wasn’t even going with over matching with Shinsou, but…

She blushed, smiling.

“You look happy,” Komori leaned over YN’s shoulder. “Did you find something you like?”

“Yeah.” YN held up the suit jacket. “This. I don’t know if they have pants here, but I can make it work.”

YN paused in the changing room, still holding the shirt, pants, and jacket to her chest. She looked down and bit her lip a bit. She was going with Shinsou, and though she never even asked Bakugou, there was still a part of her that was convinced that she had a chance with Bakugou.

“Ooh!” Setsuna jumped a bit and ran off, leaving YN and Komori in the dust. Both looked confused until Setsuna ran back with loose black slacks. “Here! Try this!”

“It’s modest.” Ibara murmured. “And you would look good.” Even Pony stepped out and cheered YN on about the suit. Setsuna gently pushed YN into the changing room with a grin.

“Go on, girl! Work it!”

“Are you okay?” Komori’s voice leaked from the other side of the door. YN jumped a bit.

“Uh, yeah!” YN changed as fast as she could, tripping over herself in an effort to get into the pants. “Just a second.”

“Hot damn.” Setsuna whispered, eyeing YN up and down. “You look good.”

Once she adjusted the pants, she opened the door and stepped out, albeit ungracefully. The girls stopped talking immediately, staring. YN felt an embarrassed flush crawl under her skin.

“Hey, uh, I’ll pick something different out, gimmie a second-”

“Yeah!” Kendo cheered. “It really suits you!”

“Was that a pun?” YN gave Kendo a look.

“Get it!” Komori grinned. “Bakugou’ll drop dead!”

There were collective laughs and YN flushed.

“Ay!” YN rushed forward to mock-wack Setsuna and they took off across the store. Kendo watched them with a laugh as YN easily outran Setsuna, thanks to the pants.

“But I’m not-!”

“And?” Setsuna shrugged. “You’ll still see him.”

“Stop running.” Ibara frowned.

“Get over here!” Kendo took off after YN, and YN watched her go after Setsuna. She paused and panted a bit, grinning.

This weekend was going to be good.

At five-thirty on Saturday, YN stood next to Shinsou, standing outside the U.A. hall. There were scattered blue and yellow balloons on the ground from an arch over the door. Lights lit up the path to the door in an attempt to set a mood, but it seemed tackier than anything. There were flower petals, too, and YN wondered if maybe one of the more sentimental teachers was hoping to make it romantic. Other students lingered, too, talking quietly.

“Should we go in?” YN turned to Shinsou, wearing the white corsage he gave her in her pocket. He, too, wore a suit and had his corsage in the same style, but he was shorter than her and had to look up.

“Sure.” He shrugged. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands but settled for shoving them in his pockets. Part of YN felt guilty for the awkwardness, but accepted it and wrapped her arm over his shoulder.

“Then let’s go.” They walked down the path and she opened the doors, letting Shinsou go before her. The entire hall was dimly lit, with more blue and yellow balloons than necessary and a DJ at the back of the room, but YN supposed that it was some of the teachers just getting too excited with the idea of prom.

She saw Kendo wrangling Monoma by the punch bowl and Midoriya Izuku talking with Todoroki Shoto. They both nodded in Shinsou’s direction, and he nodded back, but turned to you.

“Alright. Where is he?”

“Huh?” YN stared at Shinsou dumbly. “What are you talking about?”

“Bakugou.” Shinsou looked both unamused and ready to laugh. “Do you see him?”

YN flushed and looked around. He was nowhere to be found just from glancing alone, and YN shrugged.

“I don’t see him. He might not have come.” A part of YN hoped he did, even if it was just to see him in a suit. She continued looking.

“Hm.” Shinsou huffed. “Fine then. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

Before YN could ask what he meant, Shinsou disappeared into the crowd around them. YN could’ve sworn she saw a pair of pink arms pulling purple away, but before she could check, she got swept into the tide of newly arriving students. It was like swimming upstream, and she decided to just let herself be carried away.

Sorry, Shinsou, but I’ve got a plan.

She ended up shifting towards a more open area, facing out towards the main road and seeing several sappy teenagers make out with one another.

And there, at the edge of the balcony sat Bakugou Katsuki. The man of YN’s hour, if you will. She stared at him timidly, for a moment, before tilting her head.

Bakugou Katsuki swore up and down that he hated parties.

He went to bed strictly by nine, avoided alcohol if he could help it, and stayed away from questionable crowds.

So, why the fuck was he tipsy at eleven at night while Caramelldansen blasted over the speakers?

The answer was that Mina had dragged him to the school’s prom. He didn’t want to go, not after the mess that was him chickening out on asking YN. But the acid-user donned him in a suit with hints of orange and walked he through the doors. But around the time that they started playing Lil Jon’s Get Low, drink after drink was offered to the oh-so-famous winner of the sports festival and that one kid that got kidnapped, right?, and Bakugou accepted one, if only to get the crowd to shut up and leave him alone. But the drink was vaguely sweet, with hints of pink lemonade, and when he was offered another he was less adamant in rejecting them. He didn’t even know who even snuck in the drinks; just that they long left him for better horizons and consenting partners.

If Bakugou was being honest, then he didn’t like being tipsy. He wasn’t drunk enough to enjoy the feeling or do anything out of his comfort zone, but just inebriated enough that his balance was off, his sight felt a little bit weird, and it felt like everyone was talking about All Might.

He couldn’t tell if the lights were red or brown anymore, and he’d lost sight of Mina, when he heard someone gossip.

“I heard that the Bakugou dude...he’s why All Might retired, and he doesn’t even have a good attitude.”

It probably wasn’t meant for him to hear, or even exactly what he heard, but it felt like it was whispered directly into his ear. Shame flooded through Bakugou, and he felt every set of eyes in the room fall on him. His breath caught in his throat, and the lights blurred, and he waded through the sea of people, hoping to get just a second’s reprieve. He never thought he deserved it, but he still pursued it. Maybe that was how one could explain Bakugou; searching for what he never felt he deserved.

He stumbled onto a balcony, nearly shoving over two teenagers that were making out before clutching the balcony rail. The world spun, despite just how little alcohol he had, and he felt as though it was all closing in.

“Water?”

“Water?” She repeated again. “You look like you need it.”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open, and he shot the nastiest glare he could muster at who spoke. It fell almost immediately when he realised who it was.

YN stood there with kind e/c eyes and eyeliner that could cut him. She had a red solo cup in her hand. She held it out to him but kept her distance like he was a feral dog.

Bakugou said nothing but turned all the way, choosing to remain cautious. Despite the bitter bile in the back of his throat, he hesitated.

“Why?” He croaked out and hated just how torn his voice sounded.

“Because you’ve been drinking” She extended the cup to him a bit more with a guarded smile. “And, you look like you need someone to listen.”

Bakugou’s face flushed angrily and a white-hot rage rushed through him.

“I don’t need a fucking therapist! Get out of my fucking face with that shit!” He snatched the cup out of her hand and she didn’t so much as flinch.

“You were crying.” Her smile fell, and if Bakugou wasn’t tipsy and angry, then he would have sworn that concern flashed through her eyes. Bakugou took a quick but hefty gulp of the water, feeling it go down his throat with subdued satisfaction before rearing back to yell at her more. Before he could, though, she raised her hand to his cheek. Her fingers were deathly cold, like what a corpse might feel like, but they were gone before he could complain about it. She held her fingers up to the swirling lights, and every time a strobe hit her hand, Bakugou could see the glistening of something wet on her fingers. Her eyes held something like pity, but it wasn't pity for him. It was just indomitable sadness.

She turned and began leaving as Bakugou stood there in shock. He didn’t feel himself crying or the typical runny nose, just the cold and sudden terror of loneliness. It carved him out like a pumpkin, and before he realised that he was moving, he had grabbed YN’s wrist. She glanced back in surprise, but it faded into a gentle look that, had it been any other person, would have made them melt. Bakugou stared between her wrist and her face, glancing up and down and back again in confusion before ripping his hand away. He held it like it had been burned, with a flushed face and blank confusion.

“Sorry,” He grumbled, letting his hand hang down again. YN didn’t leave but she was still turned. Bakugou could only stare as the lights backlit her, like a bomb, and there was a glint in her eyes that was neither pity nor judgement, but indomitable sadness. There was an oozing silence, until she tilted her head. For just a moment, he felt like he was being dissected by her eyes, scrutinised like roadkill, before the sadness returned.

“And they fuckin’ say it’s not my fault, but All Might would’ve never had to retire if I had just been strong enough!”

“Wanna talk?”

Somehow, be it the little alcohol in his system or the fact that YN just seemed so warm, he had begun spilling all his fears and burdens to her. She never spoke, besides the occasional hum of confirmation, but occasionally rubbed his back when he choked up. She would whip out tissues sometimes, but overall, she listened perfectly.

“I know that just being told that it isn’t your fault doesn’t help.” The girl murmured, staring through the short pillars of the balcony, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But I think it was a good thing that All Might retired.”

Bakugou felt his heart leap into his throat with rage, but before he could rip her apart, she side-eyed him and took another sigh.

“Don’t get me wrong. He did great work. But...he was in pain the entire time. Could you imagine the toll? Physically and mentally? That the world was on your shoulders, and you were slowly dying, but you weren’t able to just...stop.” She sighed for a third time, and for a moment, Bakugou wondered if she knew exactly what All Might felt like, with the stars in her eyes and sorrow on her shoulders. “His retirement would have happened eventually. You spared him months, maybe even years, of pain and torment. He went out, and nobody can ask him to come back, and now he can kick back and let someone else take over. And I think he deserves it. To be able to finally rest.”

Bakugou stared for what felt like the upteenth time that night, before feeling something else tense in his heart. It was like a knot had been wrapped around it, unbreakable and tight. But with only a minute, a girl that he only ever watched from a distance, at a party he never meant to attend, had undone it completely. It snapped, and if he thought about it enough, he could almost feel the cord hitting his ribcage and coming to rest on his kidney.

YN gave a teasing grin on his subdued, awestruck look, and hummed. She rose with a groan, stretching her arms in front of her with a yawn.

“There you have it. That’s just my opinion, anyway. You don’t have to take it.” Someone called out, and Bakugou couldn’t quite hear it, but YN turned. She waved, and then looked back at Bakugou. “Take care of yourself. Don’t let them get to you.”

She turned to leave, and she felt like this incomprehensible force that made everyone else move like the tide, or the Red Sea. Softer, kinder music leaked through from the dance floor, and he shot up.

“W-Wait!”

It was a demand and a question all wrapped in one and YN snorted, nodding.

YN stopped and turned with a tilt of her head. “Yeah?”

“Fucking-!” He was choking on his words, trying to literally grasp them from the air. “Fuckng dance with me!”

“Sure.”

She walked back to them and some of the other students left the balcony, abandoning them. Bakugou’s hands felt sweaty and he wiped them on his pants, heart pounding in his ears.

“D-D’ya know how to waltz?!” He barked, eyes flickering from nervousness.

“Yeah.” YN nodded. “I can lead.”

And she did, spinning Bakugou around under the stars in a moment that felt untouchable. Bakugou looked at her, and she looked at him, and at once, he felt at ease. Everything melted off of him for five minutes and fifty-two seconds, with her hands on his hip and holding him just tight enough that he knew she was real. The stars glittered in her eyes, and the breeze was warm and cool and perfect.

“I love you,” He whispered with wide eyes. She didn’t so much as flinch, pulling down into an Eskimo kiss.

“I love you, too.”

#I'm back!!#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha bookclub #bnhabookclub bingo

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maybe-i-dreamt-u · 4 years

Text

Soft sighs and simple smiles

“I’m sorry. I really am.” She said.

Zuko couldn’t really believe what just happened. Had Mai actually fucking broken up with him? He vision was suddenly very cloudy and he didn’t know if it was because of his headache or the tears pooling in his eyes. He needed to get out of there. Quickly.

He had said something before he left the room. Something along the lines of “sorry I wasn’t enough.” Or “best of luck”, but he wasn’t really sure what. He’s sure he didn’t just storm off without a word, but right now he really couldn’t remember what it is that he said. It’s not like it mattered, anyway.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. Zuko was feeling too sick and there were too many tears streaming down his face to properly pay attention to what he was doing. Running away, apparently. At around 3 in the morning the realisation kind of hit him. Fire Lord Zuko, yes, the one who had just had a wonderful meeting with his council not even 12 hours ago, was currently sitting in a train going to Ba Sing Sai, with a big black hood on so people wouldn’t recognize him (and also so they wouldn’t see his red face and puffy eyes). That Fire Lord Zuko had just been dumped and was now heading to his uncle in hope for some comfort and good tea. Though if he thought about it, good tea was comfort.

Zuko felt more dead than alive when he entered the Jasmine Dragon, and he wanted to sleep more than anything else in the world, but he knew he had to at least say hello to the person who had supported and loved him more than anyone else. So he quickly stopped by the kitchen to hug Uncle and thank him for allowing his nephew to come on such short notice, before heading upstairs to his room. As soon as the door was closed behind him, the salty tears returned and Zuko threw himself face down on the bed, wishing he could get a fucking break from life.

As soon as Iroh had called them, Sokka knew he had to get to Ba Sing Sai as soon as possible. He knew what getting broken up with felt like (thanks, Suki) and he also knew that what his best friend (who he was coincidentally very much in love with, you know, to make tings difficult) needed, was a distraction. Or, in other words, Zuko needed his friends to come over. So Katara and Aang took Appa and collected Sokka and Toph on their way to the Earth Kingdom. They made it to the city in no less than 5 hours.

Sokka hadn’t exactly expected Zuko to be ball of sunshine, but that didn’t prepare him for the sight inside the tea shop. In the far left corner, where light barely made it though the windows, Zuko was sitting alone, drinking a small cup of tea and writing something in a leather journal. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the breakup. His matted hair was slightly covering his face, which was lacking its usual angry expression. Zuko just looked empty. Sokka’s heart broke a little. He hadn’t seen Zuko like this since Azula was put in a mental hospital.

The others didn’t seem to take the sight much better either. Katara looked like she wanted to cry too and Aang had a horrible, pitiful look on his face. And Toph, well… Toph couldn’t see so she was safe for now.

The group approached Zuko slowly and quietly, trying not to startle him, as if he was some wild animal that would run off at the slightest sign of danger. Knowing Zuko and his relationship with emotions, he probably would run off.

As they got closer to his table, Zuko lifted his eyes. He looked more annoyed, than surprised to see them.

“I fucking knew he would tell you” he said in lieu of hello and dropped his gaze back to what he was writing.

“Well hello to you too, Sparky!” Toph punched Zuko’s arm and took a seat next to him. Katara, Aang and Sokka sat down on the other side.

“Hey there, Zuko! How are you?” said Aang cheerly and Zuko answered flatly with

“Fucking great, and you?” Apart from his right hand, he wasn’t moving, but Sokka could see how tense he was.

“Oh, you know, just… Visiting a beautiful city” Everyone fell silent after that. None of them really knew what to say to Zuko when he was like this. Sokka wished he could crack a joke for his best friend, but he suddenly felt at a loss for words. Seeing Zuko so incredibly sad made his heart hurt. He just wanted to hold him tight and never let anything bad happen to him ever again. But that was against the rules, and this wasn’t even about him in the first place, so Sokka shoved that thought away for the time being.

“Look Zuko, we’re just trying to help you.” Katara tried again. Zuko just huffed in response.

“I know you and Mai were very close,” Zuko physically flinched at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, “and I know that you feel rea-“ she continued, but Zuko interrupted with a quiet

“You don’t know shit, ok? Stop acting like you know what’s going on. I appreciate the sentiment, but you really. Really. Don’t have any expertise in this particular domain.” Zuko sounded like he was staring to tear up again. Katara looked hurt, but she thankfully held her mouth. Toph however didn’t.

“I get that you’re hurt n’ all, but you really don’t have to be a bitch. We’re here for you, Sparky, not because we missed Ba Sing Sai so much, so maybe try acting like you appreciate it, and loosen up a bit.” Zuko opened his mouth to say something but Toph was quicker. “And don’t even try to tell me “Oh but I didn’t ask you to come!!” because we both know that you needed us to come and take your mind off things. I mean which one of us looks like they haven’t slept for 48 hours? Exactly. You. Now shut up and get me a cup of jasmine tea, please” She ended with an innocent smile and, for some reason, Zuko actually got up and headed towards the kitchen. Or at least that’s what Sokka thought. In the last moment, instead of going straight ahead, Zuko turned left and vanished in the back room.

“What the fuck, Toph?” Sokka stood up before he could think twice and headed in the same direction. He was going to go upstairs towards Zuko’s room but then he noticed the Fire Lord sitting expressionless in the corner of an empty staff room, knees to his chest, looking out the window. He looked like a little child that had been separated from his mother. Sokka’s heart broke a little more.

“Hey” he announced himself, in case Zuko hadn’t spotted him. His friend didn’t move, but he didn’t tell Sokka to stay away either, so Sokka slowly approached him. He sat down next to him and waited in silence. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Sokka was looking for the right way to tell him that he’s not alone, he’s got his friends and his uncle and yeah, it sucks now, but it’ll get better, you just have to give it some time, and, the Universe knows what to do, and frankly, they didn’t even look that cute together, and it would all be ok. Instead he just said

“You look like you could use a hug.” After a few moments of silence Zuko turned to look at him and asked

“What?” in flattest tone possible, with an impossibly tired look on his face. Sokka just shrugged and went

“I don’t know, you just give me the vibes of a person in need of a hug” he said with a tiny, knowing smile.

Zuko hummed in approval and turned to face him fully. Sokka opened his arms and Zuko slowly leaned into them, carefully placing his forehead on his friend’s chest. Sokka hoped Zuko couldn’t feel his heart beating at 1000mph and concentrated on embracing him in the fiercest hug he could muster. Slowly but surely he felt Zuko relax against his strong body. After a couple of minutes he let out a soft, little, ragged sigh and Sokka thought he might die on the spot.

Though unfortunately after a while Sokka could barely feel his legs anymore and as much as he hated ruining the moment, he said in the softest voice possible

“Bro I’m sorry to interrupt but my legs are absolutely dead, so if we’re gonna keep cuddling you have to let me move a bit”.

“First of all we’re not cuddling, I’m just receiving a comforting hug from my best friend because I feel like I’m going to die alone, and second of all, no.” Sokka felt a smile forming on his face and tried his best not to let it show.

“Ok, well if you want to keep receiving a comforting hug from your best friend, you’re gonna have to move because my legs also feel like they’re going to die alone.” Zuko only huffed at that and then he lifted his head. They changed into a more comfortable position, Sokka leaning his back on the wall, and Zuko’s head under Sokka’s chin, Sokka’s arms around Zuko’s fragile looking body. After he was sure that Zuko had closed his eyes, he texted Aang “we won’t be back for a while, don’t come looking, I’ve got it under control”. He wasn’t sure he actually had it under control, but he couldn’t tell Aang that, could he now?

The two just sat there without speaking. The silence was only occasionally broken by Zuko sighing or sniffing quietly, but nothing more. After about half an hour, just as Sokka was about to fall asleep and have the greatest nap of his existence, Zuko said faintly

“It was so sudden. I never even saw it coming” He said it so quietly that Sokka almost missed it. He starting asking himself if he had only imagined it when Zuko continued. “I know her. I’ve known her for years. And she didn’t act any differently.” That was followed by a sniffle and then, “She just- Fell out of love? I guess? That’s what she said but I don’t even know if I should believe it because she looked so sad, like I was the one breaking up with her. What the fuck is up with that?” He was now fully crying again. Sokka didn’t know what to say. He had never been great at words. So he just squeezed Zuko a little harder. That seemed to work, because Zuko went on, “I know this is gonna sound really dramatic, but I honest to Agni felt like I was dying a slow painful death as she was speaking to me. That feeling died down a bit since then though” Sokka could hear a smile in his voice. Oh the world really isn’t fair, is it?

After that he fell silent again. So they spent the better part of an hour on the floor, Zuko mostly crying, Sokka’s heart breaking, but it seemed to work. A good quarter of an hour after Zuko’s last sigh, Sokka finally spoke again.

“I know that you’re hurting immensely, and that you’d rather just brood in your room right now, but I think maybe it’s time that we go back to the others. I’m sure Katara and Toph have learned their lessons and maybe Aang will even manage to cheer you up. Also, I came here to have tea, and it’s kind of hard to drink any in this position.” Zuko didn’t even seem to hear him, so Sokka nudged his head gently. All he got in response was a simple “not yet”, so he tried again.

“Dude, it’s been like 2 hours…” to which Zuko only mumbled something inaudible. Sokka decided to let it go, but then the Fire Lord stood up, dragging the former with him.

He didn’t look Sokka in the eye as he said “Thanks. I mean it.” And then left the room. Sokka followed shortly after and counted it all as a victory.

#did I just write my first fic?#yeah I think I did #can't believe the first fic ive ever written is a zukka fic #what has my life become #anyays #enjoy #atla #zukka #zuko #sokka #modern setting au

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pidayforpi · 4 years

Text

Brother’s Sentiment

“Abner...why did you come all the way here?”

“Mr Whitewater Duck, a mail for ya.”

Abner “Whitewater” Duck had never been fond of his family. That’s why he chose to live alone, in a rural small town, instead of the bustling metropolis of Duckburg. He never showed up in any family gathering, nor sent his family a letter or a card. Abner was a loner, and he loved it that way.

The other Ducks had also learned not to disturb their lumberjack relative. They wouldn’t send a letter without a reply letter. They wouldn’t give an invitation only to be rejected or outright ignored. They knew Abner was a loner, and they knew he loved it that way.

But when the local postman handed him a letter sent directly from Duckburg by air, he knew he probably should read it before burning it in the campfire.

“The rich geezer or the broke bloke?” Jay questioned the confused duck. The blue jay bird only knew Scrooge and Donald, the only two relatives to have visited Abner in his faraway town. Abner actually guessed the sender to be one of them. But he was wrong. It was from someone he didn’t know.

“From Hubert and Dewford Duck.”

“Dear Cousin Abner,

Your brother would like to see you. Please come to Duckburg as soon as possible. Meet us at the McDuck Manor.

Love, Your Cousins Huey and Dewey Duck”

“Woo...Someone’s getting high-class...” Jay slyly commented, before receiving a shove from his friend. “Hey! Do you read your clients’ letters?!” Jay let out a chuckle while fixing his postman hat.

“Anyway, it seems like your lil’ bro is dying to meet ya. You should probably go-“ Jay stopped when he noticed the usually loud Abner had gone silent all of a sudden, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat.

“Need me to help send a reply, Whitewater?” Jay quietly uttered, confused and a bit scared by his friend’s unusual meekness. Abner sniffed softly, adjusting his hat with one hand and picking up his axe with another.

“No need. I will give them my reply in person.”

———————————————————

Abner felt like Duckburg hadn’t changed much. Autumn in Duckburg was gloomy as usual, or so he thought. He had not been to the city for half a decade.

Fethry was the only reason for him to go to the city. His younger brother was the only one in the family - and in his social circle - that Abner cared about. Fethry had always been the oddball of the family: He was not as thoughtful as Donald, not as brave as Della, not as lucky as Gladstone, not as helpful as Gus, not as creative as Kildare...

While Donald and Della were out adventuring, Gladstone was non-busily finding $20 notes on the ground, Gus was helping Grandma Duck (and himself) at her bakery, and Kildare was painting the town red (literally)...

Fethry was just lounging by the pond, daydreaming. At the end of a long lumberjack training day, Abner always joined his little brother by the same old pond, watching him look up to the crimson sky, look down to the bottom of the water. The brothers just silently lay down on the ground, until the orange sky faded to black, and Abner held his sibling’s hand as they walked back home under the starry sky.

Abner knew that Fethry, unlike himself, was never a loner. Fethry enjoyed company. Fethry yearned to be recognised. To be appreciated and be of use to others. Yet, being the anomaly of the bunch, talentless and a slow-learner, Fethry had nothing to offer.

“Not even our family give him a place to be in...” That might be one of the reasons Abner never felt the need to bond with his family.

Abner ignored the light mid-autumn rain, and walked down the streets to his uncle’s place with his brown hat covering his head. It was noon in Duckburg, yet the roads seemed lifeless and sad in the shower.

Abner picked up his pace, lest the shower became a downpour. He buttoned up his leather jacket, and hurried to the manor overlooking the city.

(7-3-2020)

———————————————————

“Pst...!Over here, Cousin...err...”

Despite not hearing his name, the voice of a child caught Abner’s attention. He turned to his right, and saw two young ducks hiding next to a bush.

“Dewey, you signed the letter. It’s Cousin Abner.” The duck with a red cap reminded his younger brother, who’s dressed in blue.

“You said it. I ��signed’ the letter, only.” Dewey retaliated. Huey only rolled his eyes, and motioned Abner to come to them.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Abner. I am Huey Duck, and this is Dewey. Nice to meet you.” The duck in red politely introduced himself and his brother, and bowed his head.

“Yeah...umm...we sent you the letter. Did you...receive it...?” Dewey awkwardly asked while looking at his feet, avoiding Abner’s fierce eye contact.

“Why would I be here, otherwise?” Abner asked sarcastically. Abner would have been shouting at his nephews for their lack of common sense, and somehow attributing it to their city lifestyle.

But not when the two kids were the only clues he had to his little brother.

Dewey sulked after realising his mistake, while Huey swiftly cut in to break the weird atmosphere. “Long story short, Cousin Fethry wanted to see you.”

“...and he’s apparently your little brother...” Added Dewey, face still red with embarrassment.

Abner let out a slight sigh. “Lead me to him then. Will your ‘dear’ Uncle Scrooge give you a limousine ride?”

Dewey quickly put a finger on Abner’s beak with a quiet “shh”. After dramatically looking around like a criminal on the run, Dewey explained to Abner, “Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this visit. Don’t even let him see you, no matter how much you want to meet him.” They obviously knew nothing about Abner.

“Uncle Scrooge doesn’t know about our invitation. He doesn’t even want us to visit Cousin Fethry again.” Huey added, his smile faded.

“Why?” Abner questioned, confused how their loving Uncle Scrooge would separate his family members from one another.

Huey, now grimly held his head down, stated, “Uncle Scrooge didn’t want Cousin Fethry to leave the underwater laboratory.” Abner was shocked, but stayed silent for the duckling to continue.

“Dewey and I visited Cousin Fethry a month ago. We answered his...call. Launchpad took us, without telling Uncle Donald or Scrooge, to the underwater laboratory according to the coordinates Cousin Fethry had given us. Together we went on an adventure to the depth of the ocean.”

“We met his team - which was just a bunch of glowing krill, by the way - and went scuba-diving...above undersea volcanoes! 3000 meters below the sea surface, facing scalding dreams of 400 degree Celsius...Oh, and he told us not to drink seawater. Duh.” Dewey cut in, adding in the details of their adventures, unaware of Abner and Huey’s lack of interest.

“Yes. But after getting back up to the surface, we were...well, caught. Uncle Scrooge was there at the lighthouse, the entrance of the laboratory. We were excited to share with him our adventure, when Uncle Scrooge just urged us into Launchpad’s ship. When Fethry was about to come along, Scrooge...”

Huey paused for a moment, still unable to believe the things he was about to say. “...he hit Fethry with his cane. Hard. And slammed the ship door on him. We left, under the order of Uncle Scrooge, while Cousin Fethry was still on the platform of the lighthouse, holding his right hand in pain.”

“The trip back to land was painfully quiet, but once we were back at the Manor, we couldn’t help but confront Scrooge about his actions.” Dewey said, trembling with anger. “‘He nearly got you lads killed!’ was the only reason Scrooge gave us. When we asked him why Fethry was not allowed to come with us, he just said that doesn’t concern us...”

Dewey bit his lips lightly, whispering just loud enough for Abner to hear. “As if a member of our family being trapped underwater by another member of our family for 4.5 years doesn’t concern us...”

“Fe-Fethry has been there for four...four and a half years...?” Abner’s eyes were wide open, blinking occasionally to hold back tears.

“...Yes. Uncle Scrooge never allowed him to leave the laboratory. Cousin Fethry only survived on fish and self-purified seawater. His only form of communication with the outside world was a tin-can-and-string phone, with one of the cans connected to Scrooge’s office. Cousin Fethry was ignored nonetheless, and we were the first ones to answer his call.” Huey continued.

“And the last call he gave us was about his wish to see you. He gave us the address to your town, and asked us to send a letter to you. That’s why you are here.”

A dead silence followed as the three ducks said nothing for a minute.

Abner eventually broke the silence with a question. “Why would Scrooge want to trap Fethry underseas for four and a half years?” Kildare he might understand, but why Fethry? Why the innocent, naive Fethry Duck?

“I guess you will have to find it out yourself, Cousin.” Dewey answered with a shrug. “Here are the coordinates to the McDuck Sub-lab. Launchpad won’t be able to drive you there, so you might have to hire a boat or swim there.” Dewey took out his phone to show Abner the coordinates. “You want a pen and a piece of paper to write it down?”

Abner took out his own phone, which very much surprised his cousins. “You know, living in the countryside doesn’t mean living in a cave.” Abner showed Dewey his phone number. “Send it to me through SMS.”

(8-3-2020)

———————————————————————————————

“Alrighty.”

Abner quickly searched the location of the coordinates. It really was in the middle of the ocean.

“May I ask...how would you plan to go there?” Huey asked, prompting Abner to look up from his phone. “Uncle Donald probably knows a few sailors...Probably.”

“I can manage it.” Abner said, picking up his brown leather bag.

“What’s that?” Dewey pointed at Abner’s belonging curiously.

“Oh.” Abner opened the zip and pulled out his trusty axe, holding it by the wooden handle. Its iron blade gleaming in the dim light. “You mean this?”

“Eek-!” Dewey literally jumped onto Huey, prompting the older brother to catch the duckling in his arms. The trembling duck in blue cried out for the only hero he knew. “Gizmoduck! Help!”

“Hey, you asked for it...” Abner tried to calm his cousin down, albeit still holding the axe in his grasp. He was trying to refer to Dewey asking for him to display his axe, but he was not the best with words.

“No———! I did not! Back off!” Dewey tried to move backwards, which nearly threw Huey off balance. “Gizmoduck———!”

“Hey! Keep it down. Didn’t you say not to alert anyon-“ Abner was interrupted when he heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Abner tried to hide himself, but a battle cry signalled him that it was too late.

“Don’t worry, citizens! Gizmoduck is here to rescue! Blathering Blather-“ A brown duck in a lab coat came rushing with a stack of lab reports. But the moment Fenton spotted the well-built lumberjack wielding a sharp axe, looking at him straight in the eyes, even the robo-hero fainted onto the ground, pieces of paper scattered around him on the courtyard.

An awkward silence followed.

Abner looked at the unconscious duck on the ground, the crying duck in blue, and the annoyed duck in red. “Weird city slickers...”

“Umm...You probably should go now, before anyone comes. I will take care of these two.” Huey spoke while dropping Dewey onto the ground. He held Abner’s hand sincerely, and whispered to him.

“Take Fethry away. Away from his misery.”

Even without Huey’s request, Abner would do that himself.

———————————————————————————————

Abner borrowed a wooden boat from a local fishermen duo. The duo offered a turbo jet, even free of charge. But Abner preferred the old-styled oar-driven boat, and insisted on paying for rent (of $1).

The weather that day was not the best for a sail, but Abner could not wait to see his brother. And he believed that his brother would think the same. He followed the GPS on his phone to the coordinates of the McDuck Sub-lab, and paddled against the current.

Despite living most of his life on land, Abner had learnt how to sail at a young age, thanks to his Junior Woodchuck training. He stopped paddling for a moment, and took out his Junior Woodchuck guidebook from his knapsack. On the first page was a photo of him, Fethry and their fellow teammates. At that time, both of them were ducklings. Abner just got his white feather coat, while Fethry was still a yellow-feathered child. Fethry was the most enthusiastic member of their Junior Woodchuck team. Being a Junior Woodchuck was the only thing Fethry could take pride in.

(9-3-2020)

Fethry was the reason Abner joined the scouting organisation. What was taught by the scoutmasters, such as building a campfire, pitching a tent, and (of course) bringing down a tree, had already been learnt by Abner from his lumberjack mentor. Yet, Abner let his brother demonstrate his skills as a Junior Woodchuck. He joined the organisation after an invitation from Fethry, to share Fethry’s joy and pride of being appreciated and praised by his juniors and seniors. Only as a Junior Woodchuck could Fethry truly be himself.

Abner took one last look at the photo, and closed the guidebook. He would be seeing him soon. In person.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey. You didn’t tell me about this thing here.”

Abner phoned Dewey when he saw the weird machine inside the lighthouse. There were so many buttons and levers on it, Abner didn’t know which would lead him down the lab, and which would set the lab on fire.

“Oh, now you are asking for help.” Dewey said sarcastically. “Not before you say sorry for trying to chop us up.”

Abner slapped his forehead with an audible sound, while Huey slapped Dewey with an audible scream. Huey caught Dewey’s phone with his other hand, and instructed Abner on the machine.

“Just pull the red lever and you are good to go. The one next to two stopwatch-looking thingie, with a green grid screen on top of it. There should be a green arrow pointing down once you pulled the lever.”

Abner pulled the lever as he was told, and the machine started rumbling. “Thanks Cos’.”

“My pleasure. A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Said Huey proudly before hanging up the phone. Abner was dumbfounded about how much his newly-met Cousins knew about him, as the elevator took him down to the depth of the ocean.

———————————————————

The elevator stopped suddenly.

Abner nearly lost his footing, before balancing himself with his axe. He tried pulling the lever, but there was no further response. The glass gate to a corridor of the lab only opened slightly, the gap too small for Abner to slide through.

Without any further way to proceed, Abner tried forcing the gate open with the poll of his axe. The glass gate easily gave way, rising up to the top automatically. Abner sighed, seeing how worn-out the lab was. At this point, he wondered if the lab was still in use. Everything looked like it was in ruins.

Abner looked around the corridor: The walls were dirty. The pipes were rusty and broken, with unknown chemical solutions dripping from the holes. The lighting flickered on and off, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. His surrounding was unnervingly quiet, except for the dripping of liquid. As if someone, or something, was waiting for him, watching him from the shadows. The smell was awful, a mix of seawater, chemical wastes and rotten organisms. The wall of the corridor read: “Tully Observatory”.

Abner was known to have nerves of steel, but even he could not help but feel scared. The lab was visibly dangerous. If the boys were not guided by Fethry, Abner doubted he would be here now. He would probably never receive the letter. The letter would have never been written. He held his axe close to himself, eyes darting left and right, up and down to look for potential dangers. He took out his flashlight from his knapsack, and turned it on, holding it in his left hand with his other hand grasping the axe tightly. He could feel his heart racing as he nervously shone the flashlight everywhere. But the light from the flashlight came out wobbly, largely due to his hand uncontrollably trembling.

“Man up, Whitewater!” Abner tried to give himself a pep talk. He was the strongest arm in his town, able to win any wrestling match without breaking a sweat, be it with men or beasts. But now he was alone, sweating involuntarily without a single enemy in sight. Abner was grateful he was alone, lest anyone saw him shaking like a damsel in distress. Yet, part of him was also wishing for company. Someone to fight alongside with him. Someone to give him courage and encouragement.

Suddenly, the light went out. For 1 second. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 30 seconds...Abner dared not to move, and shone his flashlight in every direction. He wanted to make a run for the elevator, but his strong legs were weak with fear. Abner was near his breaking point. He knew something was there with him, as a hissing sound and a disgusting noise were heard. He strained his ears in the darkness, trying to predict where the enemy, or enemies, would ambush him from, but his head was in a daze. The sounds were getting closer, closer and closer to him. They were coming from all direction. Abner’s heart sank: He was surrounded.

At this point, Abner wished the lights would not turn on again, like a child covering his eyes to not see the monster in front of him. He would rather die in ignorance than die in fear. He dropped the flashlight, and held his axe to himself as tightly as both of his trembling hands could.

Finally, at the worst moment, the lights switched on. Abner came face to face with rows of sharp teeth on the wall of a tunnel to the abyss, with the tunnel stretching to unknown length. He was too late to run. Too late to close his eyes. The monster was right in front of him.

(10-3-2020)

———————————————————

Abner was, to a certain extent, glad that no-one would be there to save him, there to hear him scream. He wildly swung his axe forward, clumsily missing his target just in front of him. He swung again, missing the giant sea worm by half a metre. Despite how large in size they were, the invertebrates were quite agile.

Abner was no trained warrior, but his proficiency in wielding an axe was second to none. The fact that he kept missing his targets dampened his battle spirit: He didn’t have a chance against the monster.

Suddenly, just before going in for another careless attack, Abner felt his feet leaving the metal ground. Abner’s heart sank even lower when he was lifted off the ground. He frantically glanced around despite hanging midair: His feet was caught. He was caught.

Worse still, his hand slipped, thanks to his cold sweat on his palm and the disgusting, slimy substance of the beasts. He dropped his axe. His only weapon. He could only desperately look at his axe falling to the stone cold ground, away from his hand, until a loud clunk could be heard.

Abner had no time to fear for the worst. The monster quickly wrapped its body around the duck, squeezing the warmth out of him. Not even the strongest arm in the countryside could resist the constrictor. He tried pushing at the smooth, jade-green skin of the worm, with all the strength he could muster. It didn’t even bulge. Uh oh.

The predator, though without eyes, sensed its prey trying to push his way free. A quick coil pinned his arms to his body, immobilising those nasty limbs. Oh no.

With only his head and feet free, Abner knew that was the end for him. No way to help him escape. No way to struggle. No way to cry for help (at least, no one to hear him). He frantically thrashed around helplessly, heart pounding, eyes wide open with fear.

He made the long trip to Duckburg, met two of his distant cousins, knew his brother’s ordeal, went to where his brother was trapped, and now he’s going to die without even catching a glimpse of his brother. For four and a half years...he had no contact with his brother. And he would soon be no longer to hear from his dear Fethry forever.

The sea worm tightened its crushing grip, subduing even one of the toughest ducks in the world. Abner’s struggling ceased. He felt that his seemingly limitless strength had been squeezed out. Abner could only squirm weakly, watching as his predator loomed over his relatively small body. The pair of lips split to reveal the tunnel of fangs, seeming endless in length.

Perhaps he was already too late. There’s no way Fethry could fight this monstrosity. Perhaps Fethry wasn’t in the lab anymore. This was the way to see his brother. This was how the two brothers could finally reunite. Abner’s view turned black, as the ravenous maw closed in...

“Hey, meanie! Leave him alone!” A strange yet familiar voice shouted out, echoing through the corridor. Though muffled, Abner could recognise that voice. The voice he had missed for nearly half a decade, the voice he came here for.

Fethry rushed to the base of Abner’s captor, patting the worm’s body, rubbing his beak against it. “You wouldn’t hurt a kind soul, would you? You lil’ angel...We have to treat our guests with love and respect!”

Upon “hearing” Fethry’s persuasion, the sea monster let out a sad whine, stopping its swallowing albeit still trapping its prey in its mouth. It’s still not giving up.

Fethry started to get impatient, but reminded himself to fight with kindness. “That’s my big bro, our VIP. We have to show our Atlantis-tic hospitality! You are a good host, right? A good host gives his guest personal space and freedom. I know you can do it...” Fethry encouraged the sea worm with a light kiss to its smooth, slimy body. Satisfied, the sea worm spat its prey out onto the ground, and lowered its head for a pat from Fethry. It slithered back to the lab’s extensive tunnel system, along with its fellow sea worms. The corridor once again became silent, except for the dripping of liquid.

———————————————————————————————

Fethry rushed to his brother’s side, checking for breath and pulse. Both were weak, but at least detectable. Abner lied against the metal wall, still drained and dizzy from the near-death experience. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting his little brother’s.

Fethry pulled Abner into a hug, despite Abner still being covered in the worm’s secretions. Fethry didn’t care. He missed his big bro. So, so bad.

(19-3-2020)

From just a single hug, Abner could feel all the warmth that had been squeezed out returned to him. Even in a daze, Abner could feel his brother’s emotions, his smile and tears. Four and a half years, across the ocean and over the mountains, the two brothers had finally reunited. To think that should Fethry had arrived five minutes later, just less than a jiffy to rescue his brother from the foul, mutated creature, the two brothers would had been forever parted by the death door. Fethry couldn’t imagine waiting in solitude for so long, only to see his brother die in front of him. A mixed feeling of happiness, sadness, anticipation, loneliness and guilt flooded Fethry’s mind, his grip tightening around Abner’s waist.

Abner knew that mixed feeling was mutual. Although unable to hug back due to his arms still numb, Abner said nor did anything, letting the welled-up emotions fill his heart, and express themselves in the form of tears.

———————————————————————————————

It was Fethry who let go first. Once he did, the good old enthusiastic Fethry was back.

“Big bro! You really did accept my invitation! I am so happy!” Fethry jumped up and down, visually showing his unnatural happiness.

Abner felt something a bit off, but went along with Fethry for now. “Yeah. I...uh, read your letter. Or your cousins’ letter. They met me at the McDuck Manor, and guided me here to find you. You said you have-“ “Oh! So you met the two lil’ Donalds! They were cute, weren’t they? I especially like the Red Donald. He’s a Junior Woodchuck too!” Fethry interrupted before Abner could finish. Fethry was always the bubbly type, so Abner was used to his enthusiasm.

“Yea. Um...’Huey’ was quite helpful. The other one...not so much.” Abner said as he got up from the floor, his legs still weak and numb. His entire body was drenched, but he got neither the energy nor the motivation to dry himself right now.

“Um...I...” Abner looked down, hands messing with his hair aimlessly. Fethry looked at him with his huge, watery eyes, waiting for his brother. “Th...than...thanks for saving me just now. I...I don’t know what would happen if...if you didn’t co...come to he...help. Thanks, Fethry.” Abner managed to utter the last sentence of gratitude without stuttering. Abner never owed anyone anything, and now he owed his life to his dear brother.

“Aww shucks...It was nothing.” Fethry puffed his chest proudly. “A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Abner chuckled as he saw the resemblance between his cousin Huey and his brother. No wonder Fethry liked Huey so much.

“Come on! I’ll show you around.” Fethry proposed as he took off his jacket, and put it on Abner. “You’ll catch a cold, big bro. Wear this!” Abner wouldn’t want to make his brother’s coat dirty, but he couldn’t deny that he was freezing. Partly because his head was uncovered right now...

“That’s right! Where’s your hat?” Fethry pointed out, before Abner even noticed his hat missing. “Must have been taken by that...thing as a souvenir. Won’t risk taking it back.” Abner shivered at the thought of fighting those monstrous sea worms again, that feeling of pure fear still lingering in his head.

“Oh, no! Your head must be kept constantly warm to prevent...brain-freezing! A warm head is a happy and healthy head...” So Fethry’s still believing in that self-help book? “No, I’m fine. Just need a quick rest...”

“Here, take this on!” Without hesitation, Fethry took off his stocking cap, and put it on Abner’s head. Fethry never took his stocking cap off. Fethry was never successfully convinced to take his stocking cap off. Fethry never doubted that self-help book’s advice of keeping your head warm to keep it healthy. And now he’s taking his cap off on his own, under no pressure or threat, and putting it on someone else’s head, while leaving his head bare and unprotected? Fethry’s love for his brother was so great, even Abner couldn’t comprehend.

“Th...thank you, Fethry...” Abner uttered in disbelieve, fixing his new undersized jacket and stocking cap. “Don’t mention it! They look great on you!” Fethry smiled.

(20-3-2020)

“I’ll take you on a tour! You are our honourable third guest!” Fethry walked forward down the corridor, looking back to signal Abner to come with him. Despite still having questions...a lot of questions...Abner decided keep his beak shut for the moment. Questions could wait. He retrieved his axe from the floor, and let Fethry take his hand.

———————————————————————————————

“And now, we come to the abode of the one and only Fethry Duck. Behold!” Fethry said in a tour guild’s voice, as the brothers entered Fethry’s abode. The pod was inhabitable, but clearly in disrepair.

Fethry’s voice was optimistic and persuasive, but the fact that the pod, along with the rest of the lab, was not a homely place was obvious. The golden-yellow paint on the wall was tearing off. Every piece of fabric was sewed up again and again (despite Fethry’s fine sewing skills, the evidence that those cloths have been used for years was inevitably visible). Electricity was still supplied throughout the lab, albeit unstably, as it was generated by the “hydrothermal vents” (as Fethry had explained). Living here for four and a half years was, to a small extent, possible, especially given how adaptable and creative Fethry was. But would anyone want to live in such a condition for so long?

(21-3-2020)

A torn poster was decorated on the wall. The only phrases readable were the title “Signs of Ocean Madness” and a bullet point “Isolation for Long Period of Time”. Abner wouldn’t say Fethry had gone mad, but he sure did feel...different. Different from a person suffering from isolation for long period of time. Why was the poster there in the first place? One of the partly-torn bullet point involved the word “Pressure”, and Huey reported Fethry trying to “depressurise” himself from the deep sea pressure. Was Fethry trying to stay sane while being trapped here? Was the torn poster a symbol that he had failed?

“So this is where I live. Simple and sweet. Not too much, not too little.” Fethry showed Abner his “home” by spinning around. “My bed, my sofa my stove, my tea kettle, my dishes, my towel, my empty coffee bean jar...” Among the possessions Fethry listed, he missed one prominent item in the room. One type of household item that was in excess quantity and diversity: Cleaning goods.

Fethry didn’t mention it, but Abner knew that much cleaning chemicals and tools were unnecessary for a pod this small.

“...my cupboard, my curtain, my window, through which you can see the beautiful ocean view - well, in depth...and...Oh! My team!” Fethry dashed to the an even smaller storage room, before Abner could stop him. He took out a jar of seawater, which, on mild stirring, began to glow. Bioluminescent krill. It was the first time Abner saw anything bioluminescent other than fireflies. The krill were beautiful, but Abner had no more time. Abner was happy that his little brother was happy, but something tells him Fethry was not. Questions could wait, but it was too long.

“My team, meet my big bro. My big bro, meet my team-“

“Why-“ Abner cut him off before he could introduce his “team”. That was obviously not a team, whatever the nature of the team was. Fethry was obviously hiding something. There’s no way he could feel so happy.

Yes, he just met his “long lost” brother. But then he’s taking Abner on a tour around his prison, without hinting why he was sent to this prison in the first place, or his feelings when trapped in this hell. Fethry asked his cousins to send his brother a distress signal, and his cousins added additional information on how pathetic the situation Fethry was in now. Fethry might hide the truth from the boys, as they were still acquaintances, and Fethry might not want to badmouth their dear Uncle Scrooge in front of them.

But there’s no reason why Fethry would ask the boys to send a long distance mail by air to Abner’s town, urged Abner to come all the way to the McDuck Sub-lab, only to take him on a tour around the lab. There’s no reason why Fethry would hide the truth from Abner, the only family member he could trust. He couldn’t hide it.

Fethry was evading. And Abner could see through it.

“Why could I fend off the sea worms? Oh...You see, they feel affection...” The sea worm attack was an hour ago. “So instead of fists, you fight with kisses! Red lil’ Donald’s tactic worked! I should write that in my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...”

Fethry put down the jar on the cupboard, took the guidebook from his bed, and began flipping through the pages to find a blank one. When he did, however, Abner put his right hand on the page, pushing the guidebook down. Fethry was wacky, but he’s not stupid. He knew he had been exposed. He’s just buying time now.

“Fethry, level with me. Please.” Abner requested firmly. “Why would Scrooge trap you here for four and a half years?” Fethry didn’t tell Abner he had been here for four and a half years, let alone the fact that Scrooge was the culprit.

The question pinpointed the problem at its core. There’s no escape for Fethry now. He dropped the smile on his face, and the guidebook in his hands. He lowered his head, and said nothing for the next minute. Abner waited, as Fethry was internally struggling to open the lid to his bottled-up feelings. Betrayal, rejection, isolation...

Fethry’s hands rarely balled into fists, his entire body shifted from shaking to trembling. Fethry could lie, but he couldn’t lie to himself. When those bottled-up emotions were let out, Fethry easily collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, his hands covering his face. Not even his hands could contain the flowing tears, which slipped through the gaps of his fingers. Four and a half years’ worth of buried sadness manifested into a pathetic wail, echoing in the small pod. He cried, screamed, shouted, cursed...It wasn’t the first time Abner saw his brother cry, but it was the first time he saw his brother cry this hard, this intense. Fethry hit the cold, hard ground with his fists. It surely hurt, but not as much as it was in his heart. Scrooge, Scrooge McDuck, Uncle Scrooge...Four and a half years, because of this man, this relative, this...”idol” of his.

Fethry needed some time. Some alone time. Abner watched as his brother expressed his feelings wildly in his so-called “home”, not saying a word, not doing an action.

In merely fifteen minutes, four and a half years’ time suddenly burst forward.

———————————————————

“So, the boys told you about what happened when they left...” Fethry, still looking down, stressed on the word “they”. He wasn’t allowed on board, on board the ship to freedom. That slap on the hand started to hurt again.

Abner sat on the ground to get to the same level as Fethry. Fethry had the answer to his own question.

“Ten years ago, I left from our hometown to Duckburg. I heard Donald and Della were going on adventures with Uncle Scrooge again, from Gladdy. Of course they wouldn’t involve me in their adventures. They wouldn’t even want me to know about their adventures.” Fethry said with a strong hint of sadness. It was after a visit by Gladstone Gander that Fethry left for Duckburg, but Abner never thought what really drove Fethry to his uncle was the postcard sent to Gladstone by Donald.

“I had been pushed aside, neglected and ignored for so long, I wanted to prove myself I could be as successful as anyone else. I wanted to prove that I am not just a Junior Woodchuck. I am more than a Junior Woodchuck. I am talentless. I am useless. I am weak. But I thought: Through determination and creativity, nothing is impossible. Isn’t this how Uncle Scrooge became the richest duck in the world? ‘Tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties...’, eh?” Fethry recited that phrase with pure bitterness. The phrase he once lived by had come back to bite him.

“When I arrived at Duckburg, however, Uncle Scrooge had stopped adventuring. Apparently, Della had laid three eggs, which are, of course, the three boys. Without Della, the adventure team stopped its operation.”

“‘That was my chance!’ I thought to myself. I could substitute Della as the third member while she waited for the eggs to hatch. After proving my abilities, I could become the fourth member of the team.”

“But Uncle Scrooge outright rejected my offer. ‘You are too incompetent,’ he coldly said to me. ‘Don’t think your Junior Woodchuck skills make you a genius.’ I understand. I am not as strong as Donald. I am not as brave as Della. But I have a heart for adventure as passionate as both of them. I am also a Junior Woodchuck like both of them. Somehow, being a ‘jack of all trade, master of none’ automatically makes you useless.”

“I tried to prove my worth as a team member. I had thought of possible locations for treasure hunting, researching the geographic and the fauna of those areas, thus working out the level of difficulty of different destination. I had also provided solutions, and self-invented gadgets if necessary. But all my proposals were not even given a glance. All my gadgets were not even given a trial. I understand Della was an irreplaceable member of the team. I wasn’t trying to replace her. I just wanted to be like her. Be a part of the team. Be...like Scrooge.”

“A man of miracles, hailing from the highlands of Scotland, travelled to the land of America at a young age of 18, gained his own bucket o’ gold from the gold rush at 20, and established his own company at the tender age of 22.5. Just four and a half years, Scrooge McDuck was already on his way to fame and glory. A man of miracles, indeed.”

(22-3-2020)

“And even the richest duck in the world couldn’t escape bad luck, it seemed. One day, I came to the McDuck Manor, and bumped into Donald with the three eggs. I didn’t need Donald to tell me what happened. It was all on the news. The niece of the richest duck in the world went missing in space. Poor ol’ Uncle Scrooge poured his heart and soul into saving his beloved niece. I had never seen him look that pathetic: His eyes were red with crying, his sleeves wet with tears. His feathers were all puffed up and ruffled. His office was in a mess. Oh, poor Uncle Scrooge.” Despite his wording and apparently sympathetic attitude, Abner could hear a strong satirical tone in his innocent little brother’s speech.

“Donald took up the responsibility to take care of the three little Donalds. I wanted to help, but Donald insisted on being the sole caretaker. Donald never like owing people things.”

“The only thing I can do is take care of Uncle Scrooge. Duckworth’s ageing body started to fail him, so I volunteered to help take care of my own uncle.”

“Those days were tough. Very tough. I believe Donald felt the same when raising three children on his own. Uncle Scrooge didn’t seem like himself. Once the owner of the world, now a pathetic old man. I did everything for him. Meals, cleaning, laundry, fetching newspaper, collecting mails, gardening...And he said my Junior Woodchuck skills meant nothing...”

“Dr Gearloose, as usual, helped in the repairing of electronic appliances, while Mr Duckworth helped deal with the press and the entrepreneurs. Those days were hard, but there, I found a meaning for my life. Despite I was just taking care of my uncle, I felt like someone appreciated me for the first time since I left the Junior Woodchucks. I felt like I was being treasured, being noticed. I was an apprentice of the legendary Scrooge McDuck!”

“I didn’t want his wealth or fame. I just want the attention he gets. Not the one from reporters, but from his family. That’s all I ask for: A place in this family. Where I can be myself, and be welcomed and accepted.”

“After a year or two, things started to get back together. The money bin was filled with coins and treasures again. The stock price of McDuck Enterprises was rising again. Even I was just being a caretaker, I felt like I had done something great for the family. I felt like I played a part to save McDuck Enterprises, and Uncle Scrooge himself. There weren’t any celebrations, but I was clapping my hands in my heart intensely when the news arrived.”

“Uncle Scrooge returned to his former glory. The last ray of sunlight at dusk seeped through the curtains into his office. Uncle Scrooge was asleep in his chair, tired from a day’s work. Even on a sunny day, autumn in Duckburg could be chilling. I took a blanket from the closet, and placed it on Uncle Scrooge. His drowsy ‘thank you’ was all I needed. Two words gave me the will to live on. A smile gave me the energy to move on. Just being by his side filled me with happiness. Just being with Uncle Scrooge gave me the meaning in life. I don’t need adventures anymore. I had found my position, my value.”

“But life just wouldn’t give ol’ Scrooge a break. Fate just likes to mess with people, you know?” Fethry’s voice deepened, signalling a dark turn of events.

“Five years ago, Mr Duckworth passed away. He had fought bravely against death for five years to witness the rebirth of Scrooge McDuck, but he succumbed to his disease on a beautiful autumn morning. The morning glory bloomed quietly in the garden, its speaker-shaped flowers listening to the silent prayers of the elderly duck.”

“We were afraid what happened five years before would happen again. It didn’t, in their eyes. But it did, in mine.”

“McDuck Enterprises didn’t fall into depression, but Uncle Scrooge did. It wasn’t very visible this time, and only Dr Gearloose and I noticed Scrooge’s abnormal behaviour. He had been working much. Too much. He could take care of himself. He ate, slept, bathed...but then it’s back to working time. The only socialising he did was with business partners. He only talked to Dr Gearloose about research and design. Nothing more.”

“Not being part of his enterprises, Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk to me at all. Except complaints about incomplete or imperfect houseworks. I still had my job, but the meaning was starting to fade. I was still Uncle Scrooge’s caretaker, but that’s all I was. I was treated as though I was being paid. I wasn’t appreciated. I wasn’t needed. Scrooge could take care of himself. What I was providing was no longer required. I was no longer important.”

“I was never appreciated in the first place. The one receiving the glory was Mr Duckworth, the forever faithful mister butler. He was the one who saved Uncle Scrooge. I was just pretending to be in his spotlight. Now that Mr Duckworth was gone, the spotlight ceased, and I realised I was the jester on the stage, not even close to a sidekick.”

(23-3-2020)

“I stayed by his side, taking the role of Mr Duckworth before a replacement could be found. Funny how I was now taking the role of someone else, like I always wanted, but I felt nothing. For half a year, I didn’t exist in this world. I was invisible, non-existing, intangible. Anxiety crept in as I realised my meaning in life getting away from me. I needed to be of use. I needed to contribute to McDuck Enterprises. Only then...I would feel Uncle Scrooge’s appreciation.”

“I asked for whether he needed any help. I had done all the necessary housework as possible, and asked for extra work for the Enterprises. The reply was surprising. Unfortunately surprising.” Abner frowned slightly as he knew what the job would be.

“‘Yes.’ He said. He introduced me to the McDuck Sub-lab, where I would be working as a scientist. The Sub-lab at that time looked nothing like this. Golden walls, brightly illuminated hallways, well-furnished laboratories...I was overjoyed when I stepped into the Sub-lab. I imagined how my life in the McDuck Enterprises would be: Me, working among elites from all over Duckburg, doing experiments and research with hundreds of Dr Gearloose, doing demonstrations and presentations in front of thousands of Scrooge McDuck...A life full of meaning was there in my reach.”

(24-3-2020)

Abner listened quietly, and kept his confusion to himself. Didn’t his cousins told him Fethry was just a caretaker of the lab?

“To think I could be second to Dr Gearloose, the greatest inventor in Duckburg, I was more than delighted. Childish it may seem, but I always aspire to be a scientist. A person who can change someone’s life. A person who can change the world for the better. I just find it meaningful to help others. Must be all that teaching back in the Junior Woodchuck.”

“That’s why I invited you to Duckburg at Christmas of that year, big bro.”

Fethry looked up, looking at Abner’s shocked expression. Abner seldom answered his family’s invitation. His family seldom gave Abner invitation. But that Christmas, five years ago, Abner accepted his brother’s invitation. He knew there must be a reason why Fethry, the one who knew him the most, would invite him to a family gathering on purpose.

———————————————————————————————

At the front door of the McDuck Manor, there he was: Fethry waving at his brother in the front garden, wearing a bright smile that warmed Abner’s heart in the evening snowfall. That was the first and only time Abner entered the Manor. He would never think of getting in there if it wasn’t because of that letter from Fethry.

Despite the Fethry’s warm welcome, the bright lighting and the fragrant aroma of wintry herbs, the inside of the Manor was colder than the outside. The Manor seemed unusually big, thanks to the lack of occupants. It’s true: Scrooge would stay in his office, while Gyro would stay at home. One hated Christmas, one hated human interactions in general. That “family gathering” was between the two brothers only.

Still, Fethry prepared everything himself: The invitation, the decorations, the hospitality, the food...That full-course meal was the best Abner had ever had. After all, which chef in all of Duckburg - or in the world - would know what he personally liked the most?

Together, the two brothers warmed up the three-storey manor. On the Christmas day five years ago, laughter filled the McDuck Manor. The long-gone festive atmosphere surrounded the Manor. The winter moonlight illuminated the once misery abode. For one night, a couch beside the fireplace became the most cozy place in the city. For one night, a plain bunk bed became the most comfortable place in the world.

For one night, a Christmas miracle was bestowed to the Duck family.

———————————————————————————————

But little did Abner know, the Christmas present given to him that year was a parting gift.

Fethry didn’t tell his brother about his new “occupation”. He wanted to invite his brother to his new working place for a tour once he started working there. But surely, that dream didn’t come true until now, four and a half years later.

“I wanted to celebrate with you, brother.” Fethry held Abner’s hand. “That was the best Christmas I had ever enjoyed ever since we grew up and went separate ways. I wish that Christmas night would repeat. That happiness and warmth I experienced would come back to me...” Fethry was close to tears, but held them back with a soft sniff.

“And then, I didn’t experience any Christmas at all for four years. The next spring, I was brought to the Sub-lab by a submarine, guided to the depth of the building complex, and left stranded here until now. Uncle Scrooge promised the other scientists would be joining me soon, but I should have known better. A tin can for communication? How silly of me. I watched as the Uncle Scrooge left with the only vehicle to freedom, and disappeared into the spring mist. I remembered I waved at him, smiling. I could imagine Scrooge doing the same, smiling at his gullible nephew.”

“While waiting for my non-existing colleagues, I did the only thing I know. The thing I once did to save the company: Caretaking. I found the cleaning goods in this pod, and made the whole laboratory sparkly cleaned, ready for scientists from all over the world to join me underseas.”

“For days, weeks, months, years...nobody came. The tin can must have rung countless times, but nobody answered. I tried joking, shouting, screaming for response, but nobody replied. I waited on the dock of the lighthouse for ships from McDuck enterprises, or just from any good Samaritan, but nobody even passed by in the murky sea. I don’t have a submarine, ship or boat. Even if I did, the only coordinates I have was of this cursed Sub-lab. I wouldn’t know where to go. Swimming back to land was suicide. I have learnt enough to know how dangerous the wonders of the sea could be. That’s when I knew: I am truly trapped in this deserted laboratory.”

“Food was running short. Clean water was running short. Fear was running high. Even with my Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I can’t survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, the chemical waste and the hydrothermal vents were turning my sea companions into murderous monsters.”

“What started out small enough to fit my palm mutated into unmeasurable length. You aren’t the only one scared of those sea worms, big brother. The first time I met one of those, I knew I was going to die. Just one of those monsters, and I was immediately subdued. My eyes wide opened, my feet dangling midair. I was cornered, trapped, vulnerable. That was the end for me, I was convinced. That was where I would die. That was how I would die. Alone, scared, hopeless, helpless...”

“I cried. Pathetically. At the mercy of my predator, I didn’t use my hands to struggle. I didn’t use my hands to beg for salvation. I used my hands to cover my face, wiping away ever-flowing tears. That wouldn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t save myself anyway. I was weak. I would never be tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties. I just couldn’t. I cry when I am scared. I panic when I am startled. At the end, I am just a whiny kid.”

“My discovery about those worms was the result of that near-death experience. The monster loosened its grapple, from a crushing grip to a gentle embrace. It softly set me down onto the floor, and nuzzled my face. They may not have eyes or noses, but they can sense emotions. It must had sensed my sadness, and felt my tears dripping onto its smooth skin. These were my buddies, originally my predators. I was pathetic enough to treat my killers as my friends. I was pathetic enough to let those cold, smily skin give me warmth and comfort.”

(30-3-2020)

Fethry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a little laugh. “On the other hand...” He pointed at the torn poster on the wall. “That is what Scrooge gave me. A mockery, letting me know I’m going insane: My cries for help are just ‘signs of madness’. My fears of dying are merely ‘paranoia’...”

The laughter turned from a chuckle to a hysterical cackle. “When I look at that poster...That worn-out piece of paper bearing the logo of McDuck Enterprises, signed by Scrooge McDuck himself...” Fethry touched the window of the pod, looking at the deep sea outside. “My anger as scalding as the vocanlos, but my sorrow as blue as the sea.”

Abner looked at the jar of bioluminescent krill Fethry was hugging close to himself. The dim blue lights from the critters reminded him of the twinkling stars back at their hometown. Fethry must have thought the same: Whenever Fethry stared lovingly at his “team”, was he thinking of his hometown? Those carefree days observing the starlit night sky with his brother on the meadow. He used to make a wish to the stars every night. Was he doing the same to the krill? How many wishes had he made during those four and a half years?

“But...” Abner hesitated to say the question he had been wanting to ask. “Why would Scrooge do this to you?”

Fethry didn’t answer immediately, still looking at the deep sea. Abner patiently waited, silently worrying he might had asked a wrong question. Was it something Fethry had done? Did Fethry not have the answer?

“Uncle Scrooge wanted a start over.”

Fethry whispered, looking back at Abner.

“Ever since Della went missing, Donald went away, I was the only person who would remind Uncle Scrooge of his past, adventure days. After Mr Duckworth passed away, Scrooge wanted to move on. Falling into depression a second time taught Scrooge the only way to rehabilitation was to let go of the past.”

“I’m his life reset button. Only by removing me could Uncle Scrooge forget the past and return to his former success. When I realised I was trapped here, I understood Scrooge’s intention: Getting rid of me, dead or alive.”

Fethry showed a sad smile.

“At the end, I was saving McDuck Enterprises after all.”

———————————————————————————————

A faint ray of light pierced through the glass into the pod.

The sky must had cleared up. For light to penetrate through the deep ocean layers, the sunlight out there must be very bright.

The sunlight illuminated Fethry’s smile, like an angel trapped in hell, yet basked in heaven’s light.

And Abner’s going to free this angel from his underwater prison. He’s going to give his brother the salvation he had deserved for four and a half years.

Abner stood up, walking behind Fethry, and returned his jacket and stocking cap, helping him put on the clothing. Before he could decline the offer, Abner held his brother’s hand, helping him up.

“We’re getting out of here, Fethry.”

The younger brother replied with a nod and a smile, his watery eyes showing his gratitude and happiness.

Just like in the past, back in the rural hometown: A big brother holding his younger brother’s hand, walking home in the dark.

Axe in one hand, his brother’s hand in another, Abner walked through the ruined underwater lab for the second and the last time. What seemed like hell just an hour ago was a bit more homely now. The cold, metallic ground underneath was now the path to freedom.

Walking towards the wall labelled “Tully Observatory”, Abner faced the predator again. The sea worm came out of its hiding spot, tilting its head at the duo. Abner let go of his brother, dropped his axe voluntarily, and paddled towards the monster whom he had feared just a while ago. The duck embraced his predator, patting the head previously trying to devour him.

“Thank you for accompanying my brother.” Abner uttered, a bit unbelieving that he’s talking to a seemingly non-sentient being. Whether it understood or not, Abner felt that he must give his gratitude to the only company his brother had had until their two young cousins came to visit.

The sea worm let out a contented whine, like a cat’s purr. Despite having no limbs or visible sensory organs, that creature was quite sensitive. The invertebrate bent its body, seemingly trying to cough out something. Abner put out his hands to receive the “gift”, which was no other than his own brown hat.

Slightly disgusted, but heart-warmed, Abner gave the monster one last pat, put on the hat, before taking his axe and his brother’s hand again.

———————————————————————————————

The sky in the outside world looked like it had never rained before. The evening shade was a mix of aqua and orange, with sparse clouds a deep blue colour. Distant light from lighthouses and ships looked like twilight stars fallen from the sky, gleaming brightly on the water surface. The waves were calm, the breeze gentle, as if it was the start of a new journey.

Abner stepped onto the boat, putting his axe back into his leather bag, his knapsack beside him, while taking the oar in his hand. Fethry looked at the lighthouse one last time - his home for nearly half a decade - but his heart was now calm as the evening tides. He had left his sadness, wrath, despair, and agony down on the sea bed. Uncle Scrooge was right: Only by letting go of the past could someone move forward.

Fethry flipped a switch, turning the lights off. No need for the beacon of hope, now that the stars were in his reach. Fethry took a deep breath, and turned around to his brother.

“Let’s go home, big brother.”

(7-3-2020 ~ 11-6-2020)

———————————————————————————————

-Oh my god I finally finished it.

-This is actually the first fan-fiction I have started in my life, but the fourth to finish writing. This is also probably the longest story I will ever write. I’m sorry I’m impatient and lazy.

-Like “122,640 Days” (and “Hey Laddie”(?)), I wrote most of “Brother’s Sentiment” before and during my public exam. I’m sorry I’m a terrible student.

-(Okay back to the story) This story is an AU (?) of the Ducktales (2017) episode “The Depth of Cousin Fethry!” (S02E02), in which Huey and Dewey did not (could not) free Fethry after their visit to the McDuck Sub-lab, so as to give way for Fethry’s big brother Abner “Whitewater” Duck. The lab was not destroyed during the kids’ visit (sorry Mitzy no playing hero for you).

-I also tried to give a backstory as to why Fethry ended up in the lab in the first place, a description of Fethry’s feelings for being trapped for four and a half years, and a reason for Scrooge’s decision of trying to indirectly kill his relative, etc. These aspects were not explored in the series and were thus non-canon.

-Also non-canon was Scrooge’s road to fame as described in the story. I know there’s a detailed backstory about Scrooge’s rise to power (?), but I am not a real fan I didn’t do my research I’m sorry wanted to fit the time “4.5 years” so as to make a comparison between Scrooge and Fethry.

-The story was written (finished) at the start of Season 3 (up to S03E07). More of Fethry may be explored (Abner screen debut please), so the story really is all my imagination.

Two songs I listened to while writing (most of) the story:

Mitsuha’s Theme (三葉のテーマ), from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NHefLo230SE

Kataware Doki (かたわれ時), also from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy3NpQRJntc

———————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading my first story. Have a nice day!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #the depth of cousin fethry #fethry duck #abner duck #whitewater duck #story #storyteller #long story

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thedoctordonnas · 3 years

Text

santa and cupid planned exactly what you did (when you kissed me by the mistletoe above)

merry christmas @straightembarrassment!! i wasn’t sure if you’d rather read it here or on ao3 so i figured both can’t hurt! it’s been so fun to get to know you and bother you in your inbox! i’ve never written anything like this tbh so i hope it’s okay! merry christmas <3 <3 <3 here’s the link to ao3 or it’s under the read more too <3

ao3

Zoey may not be the most observant person ever, but she’s not an idiot either and she knows what a crush looks like (at least when it’s not a crush on her, anyways). And if she knows what a crush looks like, she’s pretty sure her newly hired assistant (more of an intern actually, there less for the fact that Zoey needed an assistant and more because they needed somewhere to put her) has one. Big time.

Usually, her first instinct would be to think it’s cute. Her assistant is nice enough; a little bit young and naive, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but hey, she’d once been that naive, bright-eyed kid and she happened to think those were endearing qualities now. She much preferred it to the alternative of being jaded and going through the motions, anyways. And she would think it’s cute if her assistant had a crush on anybody other than Leif Donnelly.

And if she hadn’t had her suspicions confirmed with a very soulful, melancholic little ditty about being ‘into him’ and being ‘captured by his style’ that had only made her a little nauseous. But it also meant that she had to help her, regardless of her own personal feelings about the man and whether or not he’s actually capable of real, genuine human emotions (which isn’t actually fair and she knows it, recalling tearful eyes and an embarrassing karaoke incident that provided more than enough evidence of real human feelings).

So, she sets to meddling. It’s not like she had a choice anyways, knowing that if she ignored the situation then she would be haunted by the song about being into him and, quite frankly, that’s the absolute last thing she wants.

Her first course of action isn’t the stealthiest option available, but she doesn’t really wanna give the song time to catch up to her, so… She talks to Tobin, approaching his desk while Leif’s on a coffee run to suss out the situation.

“Hey, Tobes,” She draws out, approaching him with what can only be described as an awkward charm.

“‘Sup, Red?” He’s nonchalant as he leans back in his chair, tossing a ball that was previously sitting on his desk up in the air.

“Can I ask you something kind of weird?” She drags the chair from Max’s old desk over next to Tobin’s to sit as she asks, which causes him to raise his eyebrows in suspicion.

“Uh, shoot, but you gotta know how sus you sound right now.”

“Right, I just, uh,” She honestly doesn’t even know how to start to approach this subject, if she’s being honest. She really should’ve planned out what she was gonna say. “What does — I mean does Leif — do you think — does he like anyone?”

“Um… What?”

“Like, if he liked someone, how would I know?”

“Do you think Leif has a crush on you?”

“What? No,” Her eyes go wide before she can process it, shaking her head and forcing down the urge to gag. “Ew. I just,” She glances around, making sure there are no prying eyes. “I think the new intern likes him. And I think,” She has to steel herself for this one, praying her face doesn’t betray her that she absolutely does not mean what she’s saying. “If he liked her, y’know, they’d be cute.”

The suspicion in Tobin’s gaze hasn’t fallen, but he does narrow his eyes thoughtfully which is better than telling her to straight up fuck off. After a moment of thought, he nods deliberately, leaning forward as if he’s about to spill a secret.

“Real talk, I’ve seen them talking and stuff at the cereal bar and… y’know, I don’t think it’s entirely out of the question.”

Tobin nods awkwardly and it seems like that’s all he has to say as he leans back again with a shrug and a sure look on his face.

“Hang on,” Now it’s her turn to be suspicious as he tosses the ball between his hands. “Why would you just tell me that? Isn’t that, like, against the bro code or something?”

“Alright, first of all, don’t talk about the bro code, you don’t know anything about the bro code. Second, I don’t know, I… I want him to be happy, y’know? I think that would make him happy. And I think you’ve been hella intent on meddling recently, so I feel like if you know, he might actually say anything about it ever.”

Okay, then.

“Actually,” Tobin starts again. “I have an idea if you wanna hear it.”

-----

So, Zoey and Tobin end up in charge of the SPRQpoint holiday party and… well, there’s mistletoe everywhere. Over the bar, over the elevator, really anywhere there’s something for it to be over, it’s there. It’s all part of the plan.

Her assistant shows up early to help set up (and thankfully doesn’t question the copious amounts of mistletoe being hung up) and Leif shows up slightly later while still being ridiculously early, claiming that he just wanted to see if he could do anything to help. And oh, she notices the way his eyes land on her assistant with a soft smile while he’s pretending to observe what’s already been decorated and okay. She is much more confident in the plan now.

Before she knows it, the party is in full swing and she makes eye contact with Tobin from across the room where he’s chatting with Leif, mouthing ‘it’s go time’, to which he responds with a smile and a thumbs up.

She catches her assistant at the bar and makes small talk for a minute while she waits for Tobin, who only takes a minute to lure Leif over to the bar with the promise of a strawberry daiquiri before suddenly Zoey and Tobin are both walking away to talk to one of the other brogrammers on the other side of the room, leaving Leif with wide eyes and a stutter on his tongue.

“Uh, hey.” He greets awkwardly, taking a sip of the drink that the bartender had just set in front of him. “You enjoying the party?”

“Yeah,” Her voice sounds almost wistful, staring out at the decorated space and the many socially awkward coders dancing to Christmas music that’s only a little bit obnoxious. “It’s just all so… so —”

“Yeah.” He affirms with a laugh, shaking his head as he takes another sip. “It’s all really something, huh?”

“Yeah.” She looks at him for a second before laughing and now it’s her turn to shake her head. “Now that we’ve swapped the same monosyllabic word a couple times…”

She trails off, taking a sip of her own drink and not bothering to hide the smile behind the glass as her eyes flit over to his own smile before looking up and catching on something above them. Oh.

He seems to notice directly after her, following her eyes up to where the mistletoe hangs above them.

“Well, it is tradition.”

“I didn’t, um, I don’t —” He stutters out, hand shoving into his pockets with a nervous swallow. “You really… You don’t have to. If you don’t want to. I mean, if you do want to, I’m okay with it, I just —”

He’s cut off by her pressing up onto her toes and pressing a kiss to his lips, bringing her hand to his neck before pulling away with the ghost of a smile.

“I wanted to.”

He sputters for a second, cheeks flushing red as he opens and closes his mouth before settling on a soft smile as he relaxes his posture.

“I wanted to, too.” He repeats the sentiment with a somehow even dumber smile than he already had, small and soft and reserved just for the moment between the two of them, taking his hand out of his pocket to reach down and grab her own. “Just to be clear.”

“Well, message received. Loud and clear.”

Their soft smiles meet again as he registers a change in the music blasting through the fourth floor, an upbeat pop song taking over the airwaves as he takes one last large sip of his drink.

“Do you… wanna dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#zoey's extraordinary playlist #zep #zepsanta2020 #zep secret santa #straightembarrassment #leif.docx

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

Text

Imp(erfection)

Summary: Clones do not have birthdays. (This is fluff, with a dash on angst.)

CW: Self-censure. I’m gonna tag for gaslighting out of an abundance of caution. Past abuse. Hordak’s horrifying view of himself, including ableist thinking.

A/N: Every time I try to use a readmore, it fails. I am going to attempt it, but please forgive me if this is a long post.

Read on AO3

[[MORE]]

Hordak didn’t look up from his work when Imp landed beside him. “Do you have something to report?”

Imp’s wings flapped once, then he folded them neatly and sat down. He opened his mouth to play a recording:

“[Happy Birthday, Force Captain!]”

Hordak didn’t look up. “That’s fine, Imp. I’m given to understand it’s an Etherian tradition. So long as they are not overly disruptive, I allow them to celebrate if they please.”

“[Happy Birthday] [Imp].”

Now Hordak gave the little clone his full attention. “You do not have a birthday. You were not born.”

“[Lord Hordak!]” Imp punctuated the recording of Shadow Weaver with an inquisitive chi-rup?

“No. I was not born either. We were decanted; it’s not something to be celebrated.”

Imp made an angry screech before darting away, chittering unhappily.

Hordak shook his head and returned to his work, but Imp’s unhappy chatter seemed to linger. He continued his work—he was not going to put his progress on hold over something so foolish and sentimental—but at the end of the day, he ordered Imp to give him a moment alone. When he was gone, Hordak brought up the files he’d kept on Imp’s development, decanting, and conditioning.

Sitting back, he folded his hands under his chin and considered the computer screen. Imp was, technically, a failed experiment. He was flawed—severely so. He would never speak in his own voice; had Hordak not installed his recorder, he’d never speak at all. He would never reach puberty or grow past his present size, would never be a capable warrior. His brain would never fully mature.

(Big Brother would not have permitted him to develop further, after discovering the flaws in his genetic code.)

Hordak had always felt vaguely guilty about Imp. He’d intended, at the time of his decanting, to dissect him as he’d done with all his previous failures. He had been especially intent on dissecting this clone because he was the closest he’d managed to come to success—none of the others had developed as well as this one, despite his flaws.

He had been surprised when the clone took his first breath. None of the others had been compatible with life—their genetic defects were too severe for them to survive past their decanting. Imp was the first. The only.

Hordak should have severed his brainstem at that moment. It’s what Big Brother would have ordered. It’s what any true Horde scientist would have done. Imperfections were not permitted in the Horde, and Imp was as imperfect as they came.

Yet the clone had cooed softly, followed by a chirp. Unable to help himself Hordak had chirped back, his ears twitching, then dismissed it as instinct and nothing more. The clone reached out a grasping hand, the fingers so small. His wings fluttered and he turned his head this way and that, blearily regarding the world with open curiosity. He chirped again, and with a stab of guilt, Hordak knew he would not cut the child’s brainstem as he should.

(When Big Brother came— He shut the thought down, unwilling to confront it.)

He’d designed a custom conditioning program for him after that. Some of his force captains began calling the clone Imp, after an Etherian myth, and despite his attempts to curb it, the name had stuck. It hardly seemed worth fighting; what harm was there in a name?

(Big Brother would not approve.)

Studying his notes, he saw nothing worth celebrating here. If anything, he should be ashamed of his sentimentality. It was, surely, a sign of his own defects and imperfections that he had allowed the flawed clone to live, had allowed him to be named. (Big Brother had surely known he was so deficient. He could see into the hearts and minds of the Horde; he would have known that Hordak’s defects ran deeper than mere muscle and bone.)

Nevertheless, he took note of the date of Imp’s decanting. He made no plans, didn’t allow himself to fully consider what he was doing or why.

(When Big Brother returned, he could know nothing of this, couldn’t be allowed to see it in Hordak’s thoughts. The things he could not hide were damning enough.)

Then he shut down the computer and went to remove his armor, carefully thinking of nothing in particular.

It was nothing so sentimental as a birthday present. That was a foolish, Etherian tradition, and he would take no part in it. It was merely an annual gift—an acknowledgment of Imp’s service. So it happened to fall on the same day he’d been decanted? What of it? The date was meaningless—he only gave it meaning by choosing to reward Imp for his work on that specific day.

He was not, would never, celebrate something as meaningless as the day of decanting of a flawed clone of a flawed clone!

So when Imp, on receiving the extra ration bar and the apple on that completely meaningless day, had asked, “[Birthday?]” Hordak reiterated—

“Don’t be absurd. You were not born. You do not have a birthday.”

Imp nuzzled his hand anyway, before screeching in victory as he flew away with his prizes. Hordak merely shook his head and returned to his work, pretending not to notice the slight smile on his own face or the subtle warmth in his chest.

He upheld that tradition for years, never acknowledging that the gifts were anything other than a reward for good work. Then everything changed.

Big Bro—Horde Prime was gone. He and Imp were free of him.

Forever.

Some days that was...overwhelming. Some days it left him feeling lost. Before, he’d been imbued with purpose—misguided, perhaps, but purpose nonetheless—but now, sometimes it felt like he had nothing. Usually, on those days, Entrapta would wrap him in her hair and whisper soft words—good words, kind words, words he didn’t deserve but needed so desperately—until he could catch his breath and he remembered that he had a new, better purpose now. It was not as simple—strange that making a life with Entrapta and their unconventional family was somehow more complicated than galactic conquest—but it was infinitely more rewarding.

Which left him considering his current predicament.

Imp’s decanting day was tomorrow. Ration bars and fresh fruit had been reward enough in war time, but that would hardly be a treat now. Furthermore, this was the first time that Imp could have a proper birthday. No longer under the shadow of his ‘brother’s’ disapproval, Hordak was free to acknowledge their silly, sentimental tradition without shame or fear of reprisal. The problem was, he had no idea how to do that.

So he did what he always did when he had a troubling question:

“Entrapta?”

She peered at him from under the large mech she was repairing. “Yeah?”

“What do Etherians usually do to celebrate their birthdays?”

She cocked her head, thinking. “Well. They usually give presents and eat cake—or another dessert if the birthday-person doesn’t like cake.”

He nodded. Imp liked cake well enough. “What kind of presents?”

“Whatever the birthday-person likes, I guess?”

His ears flexed. Imp seemed to enjoy wrestling with stuffed animals until they were nearly falling apart. A stuffed animal, perhaps? “Thank you,” he said, leaving her to her mech.

She darted after him, leaning out of the doorway, supported by her hair. “Um? Hordak? You know my birthday is months away, right?”

His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. “I...did not. You will tell me the date as it gets closer?”

“Oh, of course!”

He thanked her again and walked toward the kitchens, cheeks still hot. He hadn’t even thought about Entrapta! Of course she had a birthday! Thankfully, it seemed he had some time to consider that more carefully. Finding an appropriate present for Entrapta would be a good deal harder than finding one for Imp.

He spoke to both the baker and seneschal about acquiring a cake and a stuffed animal, though they had seemed unnerved by his request. He wasn’t fully sure why—perhaps he was doing something wrong? He knew that commanding an army was different from managing a kingdom, but he‘d gotten better at keeping his temper in check. Perhaps he’d speak to Entrapta about that as well....

The next morning, after approving both cake and stuffed animal, he dismissed the baker and seneschal and waited. Imp knew what day it was, and he would find his maker when he woke up and there weren’t any extra rations or pieces of fruit beside his bed.

He did not expect Entrapta to find him first. She came in through one of her hidden doors, welding mask down as she studied the cake and the toy. He didn’t say anything, just allowed her to examine everything. One rope of hair scratched the top of her head, then she shrugged and lifted the mask. “Okay, I give up. What are you doing?”

He crossed his arms. “It’s not obvious?” His ears flexed.

“Well,” she drew out the word, as if rolling it around in her mouth, “given your questions yesterday, I have to assume this is supposed to be a birthday cake and a birthday present.”

He nodded firmly. “Yes.” He paused, considering her word choice. “Am I doing this correctly?”

“Mostly? I mean, kind of—the cake usually has a message on it, like, ‘Happy Birthday!’” She raised her hands to either side of her head as she said it, as if emphasizing the words. “And there’s decorations in frosting—“

He frowned. “This is not enough frosting?” It seemed like more than enough to him.

“That’s not really the point? It’s just supposed to be more colorful. Exciting—fun!” She widened her stance and threw her arms open, as if mimicking an explosion. Which, considering the things Entrapta considered to be ‘fun’, was as likely as anything else. She retracted her limbs all at once. “Oh, and the present is supposed to be wrapped.”

He blinked. “In what?”

“Paper!” He cocked his head, staring down at the stuffed toy and trying to figure out how that could possibly improve it. “By the way, who’s this for, anyw—?”

Imp’s irritated screeching interrupted her reply. He came barreling out of one of the vents, hair raised in a crest and ears flat. He flew immediately to Hordak, then kicked his shin in fury, still screeching. Hordak looked down at him, cocking his head in question. Grumpy, Imp crossed his arms and sat heavily on the floor, turning his back. “Is something the matter?”

With a glare, Imp looked at him over his shoulder and played a short recording. “[Forgot]”! He punctuated that with an angry huff, though the way he started playing with his tail made it clear he wasn’t merely angry—he was disappointed as well.

Trying not to smirk, Hordak set first the cake and then the toy in front of him. “I forgot nothing.” He hesitated for just a moment, then ruffled Imp’s hair, jostling it out of the angry crest. “Happy Birthday, Imp.”

Imp stared at him, eyes wide. Then he opened his mouth and played an old recording. “[You do not have a birthday. You were not born.]”

Hordak shrugged. “Happy decanting day, then.”

Imp stood all at once and tackled him, hugging his leg so tight he could feel it through his armor. Not entirely sure what to do about this development, he looked to Entrapta for help, but she was only staring at him, wide-eyed. “Aw, Hordak....” There were tears in her eyes, and for a moment he was worried he’d done something very wrong, but then her hair coiled around them both and she pressed her hand to his chest, smiling broadly. “You should have told me what you were doing! We could have had a party to celebrate!”

His features softened, a subtle smile playing at his mouth. Warmth spread through his chest, and he laid his hand atop hers. It was a good moment. But he had to ask—

“What’s a party?”

#entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #hordapta #imp #horde prime #content warning #gaslighting #abuse #ablist language #ableist language #longpost #ao3 link

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tres-fidelis · 4 years

Text

Disclosure - Part 1

Part 2

8 months.

No other contact since. Just one small note and a cursed token. Both items resided in her office, stowed inside one of her desk drawers and buried underneath office supplies. There’s perks to keeping something so dangerous and troubling hidden away. She could forget it’s ever there. Anyone could if you busy yourself enough with other work.

Even so, Jayden knew it. She knew for a damn fact keeping it out of sight, attempting to keep it out of mind, wouldn’t relieve anything. It’s still a problem. A problem put aside until someone procrastinated enough for it to evolve into something more dangerous.

No one must know...no one can know about this…

Almost a year later Jayden kept this secret out of the public and private eye. Shaska, her mom, Axl, she sealed her lips even to them. Their own worries and troubles mattered more than her own state of mind. Why burden them more with this trouble when she’s experienced plenty of it already? Why should anyone know when it’s “family matters?”

“...why…”

The heavy coin reflected a bright shine from the afternoon sun. A precious item to anyone whose curious eyes caught a glimpse of its sheen, but an emblem of destruction for those who knew its origin.

ES.

The Emerald Spears.

A long since “dead” terrorist organization born from the wrath and hatred of all things robotic. Jayden first heard about their existence in some old texts recovered by the museum’s archeology team. Apparently before the Cataclysm, many humans loathed the existence of AI robots and their rapid progression in society. They saw them as a threat and began preaching humanity’s downfall at the hands of this AI intelligence. Robots grew, they evolved in their own way, they’d outsmart their human creators, and bring about a genocide. A beaten, burned document recounted an attack from the Spears at a robotics expo long ago, however there were no recorded names on such. The Cataclysm seemed effective in wiping out most of their information including other reported terrorist attacks, several listed names and company contributors, and other criminal records.

Yet here in 21XX…

Not much is known of their resurgence. Locals say they spotted hooded figures breaking into reploid repair shops, criminals under guise holding reploid centers hostage in exchange for police information, and of course influencing protesters in public areas. In most cases the suspect never admitted or even spoke of the Spears’ guidance in their plan. There’s some who don’t even believe the Spears are working from behind the curtains. Some are just flat out saying they all died off with the Cataclysm.

‘It’s just the nature of humans to fear something greater and more powerful than themselves. Something that can easily control their free will or restrict their freedom? Of course humans had a reason to be afraid, to be terrified of mechanical beings built to outlast them.’

Jayden knew…

No matter what others believed. If they thought the Spears couldn’t exist in this day and age, Jayden knew it all.

She saw it.

She saw from first-hand experience. The absolute terror of what these people could undertake. Not just from the encounters as a news reporter, civilian meetings with a potential member in her presence, or even during her own participation in pro-reploid civilian protests. It traced back to her own beginning. The start of her own life.

Jayden remembered the fights, verbal abuse, and control of her own ‘father figure’ since she was a little girl. Restrictions on anything reploid related suffocated her and her own mother. Neither could speak a word about their work or school life if it involved ‘those hunks of junk.’ Home wasn’t home for them. Her mom found quiet solace in the museum or, in Jayden’s case, a small cafe not too far from her home. Most of her memories from middle school centered around the friendly encounters inside the cafe. A young girl’s face glued to the TV watching the news and the staff treating her to some pastries after her tests. Jayden cherished the safe space, and of course the food.

The ‘real home’ for Jayden was the Abel City Museum. Staff treated her like she was their own daughter. At that point, they could’ve used her as a mascot for the museum just to draw in more business. Everyone loved seeing the girl with the two different eyes greet them with an award winning smile. Jayden equally loved welcoming the guests, giving them their tickets, and wishing them well through their adventure in the museum. Sometimes she managed everything all on her own! Some staff members were baffled seeing a nine-year-old kid handle money so accurately. Then again, they too saw the delight in something so innocent. Jayden grew to be one of the main attractions in the museum aside from the “real” ones.

The end of the day brought on the dreaded reality she and her mom embraced. No talk of mom’s work and of course no talk of any kind of news. Especially if stories centered around the Hunters. Dinner always led to extreme outbursts about ‘father’s’ own work day, snide comments about her mother’s workplace, and Jayden having to ‘man up’ against the bullies at her school.

‘No one else will fight for you! You never know when one of those walking scrap metal corpses will get the jump on you. Then you’re dead! You’re gone! It’s about self defense! You have to be stronger than them!’

It wasn’t self-defense. It was pure torture.

Punch after punch, kick after kick. Jayden couldn't keep track of how many new bruises appeared after each ‘training’ session with her father. Her mother had to purchase new bandages almost every week just for her own daughter. Of course mom brought up this horrible treatment with her father but it was met with a slap across the face and an derogatory, loud opinion. The only solace her mom could give was tending the new wounds and giving warm comfort.

All for what? Getting her stronger for an eventual, yet highly unlikely reploid takeover? Just so she could fight against them?

........What good did that do her?.

.............................What good did it do to her now...

...........................................

................................................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“..............................................miss lady?”

“!!!”

A young girl around the age of 12 stood in front of Jayden. Short straight brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and freckled skin. A small flower hair clip swayed by a few strands of hair holding on for its dear life. The child perked up soon as Jayden caught her attention. “Oh! Sorry...uh...were you asking for me?”

“Mmhm! You’re the one who’s on the TV right? The lady with the colored eyes, reporting on the Hunters yeah?”

Oh, right…

Just...put that eyes comment off to the side…

“That’s right. I’m the one you see on the holocasts. I’m...guessing you’ve seen my broadcasts before?”

“Yeah! Mom and Dad always put the news on when they come home from work. Say they enjoy the stories and other stuff they hear from you. Never really watched news much until you came on. They say they like your writing and how you...present yourself? I don’t know, I just like hearing you talk and seeing you talk with the Hunters!”

“Oh…” An admirer. She’d gotten used to some fan mail coming to the office and the brief encounters with other citizens in her work travels. It’s not uncommon to be recognized out in the public here and there, but this kid had some guts coming straight up to her. Did she want an autograph?

“Well it’s very nice of you to come up and tell me this. It affirms I’m doing my job right.” Jayden smiled pleasantly making the girl share the same sentiment.

“I wanted to ask. Actually...if...if you get scared out there. When there’s bad things going on, you’re there with the hunters. Isn’t it scary when you’re so close to those bad Mavericks?”

What a brave question. Melancholic too. She had to be in middle school yet she’s already recognized the threats. Of course everyone, at least hopefully everyone at this point, knew the difference between those kinds of threats and the ones who fought them.

A deep breath and a warm hand sat on the girl’s shoulder.

“It is. It’s very scary when I have to report in those areas. However, I don’t do it just because it’s my job, or because I’m told to do it. I do it so I can keep the people informed, so people are safe and so no one else gets hurt. In a way, I’m...almost like a human version of a Hunter. I don’t necessarily keep the people physically safe, but...I do my best for Abel City to know what’s going on. So no one’s hidden in the dark, so no one is lied to about current events, and...hopefully to make people smile too. Just like you!”

“Heehee~” The small girl bounced in place. “Thank you miss reporter!” Someone called across the street catching both of their attention. A taller boy, broad shoulders, and much older than the little girl.

“Hailey! I’ve been looking for you! Come on, we have to get going!”

“Okay bro!” One last turn, one last big smile and thank you, then off she ran straight into her brother’s leg. A little wave from her and soon they melded into the evening word crowd. Such a pleasant exchange...

Beep beep beep! Beep beep beep!

A small alarm beeped on Jayden’s watch. Right, she promised her mom she’d be home for dinner tonight. A home cooked meal waiting for her, as soon as she stepped into the door. Anyone working the kinds of shifts she undertook would take this as a special treat, yet Jayden couldn’t feel any warmth or longing excitement. Tonight would be the night. She’d come clean about the note and the…

Right...the Spears.

....was this really the right time? Her mother already had too much on her plate considering her work at the museum. It’d been months since she received the threat so...maybe they just wanted to scare her. That’s all. But...in another way she had a right to know. After everything she did for Jayden though...all that heartache, pain, suffering...after all the troubles of her own life…

...does she really deserve more heartbreak?

The crunched note slipped out of her inside jacket pocket.

‘...little canary…’

“I’m going to be late…”

A deep breath in then pushed out. This exhaled some of the weighted stress out of her system. The reporter rose off the bench fixing the folds in her jacket. No bike ride tonight. She’d take it easy and walk back to the apartment complex. A calm, steady pace at that. There wasn’t any need to rush home when her mother already expected a late start.

#ic update #ic drabble #ic plot #plot progression #blog progression #part 1 of 3 #((DEFINITELY putting this under a read more because of the length #but I hope you guys get a good read!!#just wait for the next 2 parts coming up!!!))#((The two images at the beginning come from the RWBY Manga Chapter 2))

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dragonsaphirareads · 4 years

Text

Winding Strings

#dlamp #deceit sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #obsession sanders #tsshipmonth2020 #saphira writes #saphira writes ts

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louadorable126 · 4 years

Text

Demons(you).me Chapter 5 - Burgers and Meetings

>>Click here to read over on Ao3!<<

Art by Aya/ITOUYAS! <3

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Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady's life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

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Important information!

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Realtionships: Dante x Lady, Vergil x Lady

Characters: Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry) Morrison (Devil May Cry), Nell Goldstien (Devil May Cry) Eva (Devil May Cry), Sprada (He’s mentioned bless him), Mundus (Also Mentioned)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Genetic Engineering, Sci-fi Fantasy, Strip Clubs and Strippers, Dystopia, Seizures, Flirting, Eva and Sprada are alive! :D, Human Experimentation, Cults.

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Chapter 5

When Vergil said he wanted to take a break, Lady certainly hadn’t expected…this.

After walking a few blocks away from the cult’s abandoned lab, the group had stumbled across a fast food truck cosily tucked away beneath a monorail bridge; the occasional train passing overhead and zooming passed in a matter of seconds. Needless to say, Dante had been quick to drag them over to such a ramshackle establishment, the moment his nose caught whiff the sizzling of meat on its grill.

Before Lady knew it, she found herself left on her own in the middle of the road. Vergil had isolated himself away from his twin’s embarrassing display, as he mindlessly drooling over the truck's menu while resting his chin against the van’s rusted counter, by going over to one of the supporting pillars of the bridge and leaning back against it. Of course, he didn’t exactly look like he was in the mood for company; looking lost in thought as he gazed up at the towering layers cascading up to the metal sky above him. Vergil always seemed to have a way to project an aura of intense disinterest when he didn’t want to be spoken too. So not really knowing what to do with herself, Lady walked over to the fast food truck.

“Hey kid, you gonna get anything or not?” The gruff, bearded, chef behind the counter asked in a polite tone. Wiping down his newly washed, worn tongs with a cloth.

“Uhhh give me a moment. It's hard to decide-“

“Not for me! Can I please have a hot dog?” Lady chimed in, as she approached. Standing beside the red demon.

Startled, Dante quickly pushed himself away from the counter and looked over at her in surprise.

“What? Thought you were the only one that was hungry?” Lady taunted with a sly smirk.

“No! I- uh…” The demon frantically stumbled for his words, caught completely off guard by her bluntness. All of a sudden, he turned in the direction of the chef and threw up two fingers. “I’ll have two of the Mega burgers please!”

“Sure. That’ll be 7.50.” The older man informed them. Swapping his hand so a holographic payment screen appeared in front of the pair.

Lady swiftly pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket and tapped it against the screen. A moment later a bright green “Payment Received” sign appeared and the hologram vanished into thin air. With a pleased nod, the chef quickly got to work putting two meat patties onto his grill, followed by frying the spongy, inner section of the buns.

“Two burgers, huh?” Lady asked curiously. Raising a playful eyebrow, as she crossed her arms.

“Well, one’s for Verge.” Dante explained, taking a glance over his shoulder at his stoic twin. Resting the back of his head against the supporting pillar with his eyes shut, seemingly in some sort of ‘meditation’. “The guy will never admit he’s hungry. But Eva would totally kill me if she thought he hadn’t been fed!"

“Are you sure he’s going to like it?” Lady questioned in an unsure tone. Leaning in closer to Dante, and keeping her voice low, and away from the prying ears of the nearby chef. “Your brother doesn’t seem like a guy whose taste palate would fit...this kind of place.”

“Nah! I’m sure he’ll be fine with it!” Dante reassured, waving his hand dismissively at the idea.

Lady still didn’t 100% agree with Dante’s assumption; her gut instinct screaming at her that this was a terrible idea. But who was she to argue when she’d only known his brother for around a day or so? Dante had known him his whole life. “If you say so then."

The two quickly fell into silence after that. The space left empty by their words was quickly filled by the satisfying sound of sizzling and spitting from the grill, and the low tunes of a rock song escaping out of the nearby radio. Their meals were coming close to being done, as the chef applied two slices of cheese over the meat and went to go and stuff the hot dog into a bun.

“Hey Lady…” Dante suddenly started to ask. His voice uncharacteristically soft in tone. Something that didn’t slip Lady’s notice, as she looked up at the boyish face hidden beneath that crimson hood of his. “What do you plan to do after me and Vergil leave?”

Well that certainly caught her off guard! At first, it seemed like such a strange thing for him to be asking. Part of her thought that they’d be together for a longer time yet. That even bringing up the idea that they would disband their small party seemed out of place at this moment. But, the more she thought about it, she started to realise where Dante was going with this.

Dante had found his brother, and by all means had completed the original mission he had set out for himself down here. It was only through Vergil’s intervention and insistence that they protect the true nature of their heritage that the boys were still here with her. Nothing more nothing less. And…well they were coming close to making that a reality.

Granted, they had about as much a clue as her when it came to predicting where or whether the next ‘leak’ would appear. It could just be that they would have to deal with this cultist and then everything would be fine. No more work would have to be done and the brother’s could return to their newly discovered mother for a heart to heart. That they would leave her, and she’d return to a mundane life without the thrill or adventure she had experienced over the last few days.

And if Lady had to be honest…she didn’t really want to go back to that.

A swell of anxiety started to curl in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, her breath heavy with conflicted emotion.

“Well…I’d probably just go back to working as a mercenary under Morrison. Don’t think much else would change really.” She answered honestly, with a small shrug.

Yet, a part of her couldn’t just leave it at that. A nagging sensation reminded her that things would change once he and his brother finally left. Maybe it was because of an overwhelming sense of sentimentality she’d grown to feel towards the demon. But Lady didn’t want him to think she wouldn’t care for his departure when it finally came. That she wasn’t thankful for what he’d done for her.

She leaned back against the trucks metal counter, letting out a small sigh, as she looked out into the distinct wistfully “But, you know....I think I’d miss your dumb ass. Things will be much less fun around here without you!”

“Who are you calling a dumb ass?” Dante whined in a jovial voice. He obviously wasn’t particularly offended by her slight jab, if that sly smile playing on his lips anything to go by. Lightheartedly poking her shoulder.

Lady couldn’t help but smile too, as she raised her hands in defence. “What? I’m just speaking the truth-“

“Alright you lovebirds! Meal's ready!” A deep voice from behind interrupted. At the sound, the pair quickly turned around. Finding the bearded chef standing directly behind them with a brown paper bag seeped with grease in one hand, and a cardboard container with a hotdog sticking out of it in the other.

Oh god! Not this again! Lady cursed in the back of her mind. Unable to save herself from the rush of heat flooding her cheeks with red, as she gingerly took the items off the man and quickly handed the paper bag over to Dante by shoving it at his chest. Head tilted down shamefully throughout. I’m never going to hear the end of this! Why does everything think just because we’re around the same age he’s my boyfriend! It's so infuriating-

“Thank you” She mumbled in a small voice to the chef. Cutting off her inner turmoil before it could rise to the surface. Keeping her cool as she ever so calmly grabbed Dante’s wrist and forcefully dragging him away from as fast as she could physically move. Which wasn’t that fast given that Dante was already briskly walking ahead of her, when they reached Vergil. Earning her a curious look from the blue demon, as he watched his twin seemingly lead her along. Dammit! She could only imagine what he was thinking! Stupid demons and their speed!

Without a second's hesitation, she quickly let go of Dante’s wrist. Letting Dante’s arm drop down limply, as she threw her hand up to her face and rubbed it tiredly. Trying to compose herself before all logical thought left her and she did something she’d regret. Well, if she hadn’t already. All Lady wanted to do was pray the ground would open up and swallow her whole right now!

Dante however, was completely obvious to this. Freed from her grasp, he swiftly wandered over to his nearby twin and pulled out a neatly wrapped burger, in a cream coloured napkin, out of the paper bag and presenting it to him proudly. "Bon Appetit, bro!”

Vergil looked down at the item in bemusement. As though he had not been expecting his brother to present him such a ‘gift’. Hesitantly, he reached out and gently took it from his brother’s hands. “You didn’t need to get me this, Dante. I’m not particularly famished right now.”

“Yeah yeah! Keep saying that to yourself!” Dante said disbelievingly, waving his brother off.

He pulled his burger out of the paper bag and quickly scrunched it up into a tight ball. Looking around for a bin, the red demon was lucky enough to spot one only a couple of meters away from the group. Never being one to pass up a challenge, Dante attempted to throw the scrunched up paper bag into bin’s open mouth at a startling speed. Sending it hurtling through the air and almost barely missing its target by a small margin, if not for the light breeze that had swept in to save the day. At the sound of the small metallic clank, made by the ball as it hit the inside of the steel container, Dante fist pumped in victory as he spun back around to face Vergil. Who was shaking his head in disapproval of his little brother’s antics.

“Come on! You can’t say that wasn’t cool!” Dante exclaimed passionately. Pointing at his grumpy brother’s person with a burger in hand.

“I see nothing ‘cool’ about littering, little brother.” Vergil said coldly. Not taking his eyes off his brother, as he unwrapped his meal with one hand. “If you had missed that shot, you would have to be the one to clear it up. Not me."

“But I didn’t miss, did I?” Dante pointed out, smugly. Vergil didn’t react to his retort however. His face remained cold and impassive, barely showing a hint of emotion as he glared at his twin. An invisible tension began to mount between the two of them. Rising up until it reached its breaking point, when Dante admitted defeat with a roll of his eyes. “Alright fine! By the way, Lady's the one who bought this meal for us. So might wanna thank her a little!”

“Wha-“ Lady blurted out at the mention of her name. Not expecting to be brought back into the conversation so abruptly. Dropping her hand and letting her vision focus, when she came to her senses, she found Vergil staring at her with an awkward smile. One that looked rather forced, uncomfortable, and….ok somewhat terrifying if she had to be honest!

“Thank you…..for this.” He said in a stilted voice. Seemingly trying his best to remain polite while obviously not caring much for what he was thanking her for, like a child who got a knock off toy for Christmas.

“Oh! Uh…no worries!” Lady said awkwardly. Trying her best not to wither under that unsettling smile of his. She glanced down at the hotdog in her hand and quickly took a small bite out of it. Gosh, it had been ages since she had one! She’d almost forgotten how good they were!

Wiping away a few small crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand, she looked back up at the two dumbfounded brother’s awkwardly staring at her while she ate. “You guys going to start eating or not? This stuff’s going to get cold soon!” She exclaimed in a muffled voice, mouth filled with food.

Without another word, Dante quickly tore open the napkin covering his burger and began to dig into it. He let out a moan of pleasure as he ate, seemingly enjoying every bite with that blissful expression on his face. It always fascinated Lady how Dante could be so pleased by anything he ate. She honestly wouldn’t have taken him as a foodie to be honest. Expecting him to be a rebellious picky eater who could only enjoy fast food and would sustain himself on nothing else.

Ironically enough, however, that title seemingly went to his brother. Vergil had yet to touch his burger in the slightest. Instead, he had pulled back the burger's wrapping and bun ever so slightly, and awkwardly poked its inner contents with his finger and gave it a rigorous examination before it went anywhere near his mouth. It was obviously not a pleasant conclusion however, as a growing look of vile disgust formed on his fair features. His face twisting and distorting as though he was on the verge of throwing up, as he quickly pulled back his finger and hastily whipped it down with his napkin.

“Is this thing made out of rodent?” Vergil commented maybe a bit too loudly. Causing the food trucks chef peaked his head up in interest a few meters away.

“Uhhh...might wanna keep it down a little, Vergil!” Lady said in a hushed voice, chewing on her food. Catching sight of the man’s movements out of the corner of her eye. Worrying that the chef might kick them out of the area, the mercenary quickly spun back around to check on the older man. Thankfully, Lady was relieved to find, however, that the bearded chef sat back down in his truck, and was nodding his head to the beat of the radio.

“I’m not eating this.” The blue demon asserted coldly. He took a step forward. Moving to walk past his brother, as he headed towards the bin.

All of a sudden, he was stopped by a strong arm appearing in front of him and reaching out across his chest, blocking his way.

“Hold it right there, princess!” Dante said in a muffled voice. Stopping for a moment taking a bite out of his own burger. “Look, it's not that bad! In fact I think these burgers are pretty tasty! So I’m not sure what you're being a crybaby about bro! But, I’m not gonna let your waste a perfectly good meal-“ Dante reached out to his brother with open hand. “Hand it over if you don’t want it.”

Vergil slapped away his brother’s hand with a growl. “I’m not a crybaby, Dante! I just have standards for what I put into my body!” He paused for a moment, taking a deep, shaky breath. Looking down at the burger in his hand with a hard, determined glare, as though he was facing down a fearsome foe in combat. "This meal is mine, and mine alone. Not yours, little brother! If you wish for me to prove to you that I can eat it. Then I will! "

Finishing his dramatic monologue, and without a second's hesitation, Vergil bought the burger up to his mouth and slammed his teeth into it in one mighty, powerful bite. Sending a spray of sickly-sweet, bright red ketchup sauce flying out of the other end of the burger and into Dante’s face. Covering him with sauce like a tasty face paint.

“Pffffffff!” Lady burst out into roaring laughter at the comical sight. To which she was soon joined by Dante, seemingly completely uncaring for the ketchup splattered across his face as he chuckled. Ironic, as Vergil's regal face quickly turned the same bright red shade as his tomato covered brother’s, at their mocking. Deathly embarrassed, Vergil quickly turned away from the pair of them and stormed over to the nearby bin and slammed his burger inside.

As he walked back from the bin, Lady couldn’t help but feel bad for the blue demon. He was obviously trying to play off that he didn’t care about what had just transpired. His face marred with his usual stoic frigidity, icy eyes hard and lips pressed together in a firm line, actively schooling his features so that he looked emotionless. Yet, as the bright red blush slowly left his cheeks, he couldn’t hide the light, pink dusting covering his sharp cheekbones. It was both hilarious and endearing to see. Hell, Lady might even have gone as far as to say it was….cute.

Vergil walked back over to the pillar and picked his sword up off the ground, right next to the black laptop haphazardly leaning against the concrete structure. Held it close to his chest protectively, in his crossed arms, as he stubbornly gazed up at a futuristic, bullet-like train rumbling past overhead. Although, not loud enough to cover up the sound of a stomach growling in annoyance. Given that she and Dante had certainly eaten their fair share, by process of elimination it seemed Vergil was hungrier than he let on.

Taking pity on the young man, Lady awkwardly split off the untouched end of her hotdog, and strolled over to him. She coughed lightly to gain his attention, and when his fearsome gaze fell on her, she swiftly presented her peace offering with a soft smile. “Here, take half of mine.”

Vergil raised a curious, pale eyebrow at her offer from beneath his hood. Still looking uncomfortable at the idea of eating anything from the food truck. The brunette suspected that it was going to take a bit more convincing to get him to concede to her demands.

“I-uh...saw a jar of branded hotdog sausages in the van. So there shouldn’t be anything weird in it if you're worrying about that.“ She was reassured. Rubbing the back of her slim neck with her free hand.

At the news of the hotdog's authenticity, Vergil hesitantly took the uneaten half from Lady’s hand. A small smirk creeping onto his pinkish lips as he gazed down at the meal in his grasp. “Thank you, Lady.” He said in a soft voice. There was a hint of…something behind that tone, however. Something indecipherable to the mercenary.

She didn’t have time to question it too much though, as Dante walked over to the pair of them rubbing down his boyish face with the torn remains of his napkin. It seemed he’d done a successful job of clearing away much of the ketchup covering his face, however the odd spots still remained around his jawline and chin. Apparently only the top half of his face really counted when it came to cleaning himself.

“Hey, you doing alright bro?” Dante asked in a concerned voice, as he casually leaned back against the concrete pillar beside the blue demon. “Don’t worry too much about what happened. There’s a reason I wear red!”

“I thought it was because Eva got annoyed every time you came back from a mission covered in drenched in blood, dirt and god knows what else attaches itself to you.” Vergil pointed out, without missing a beat. Looking over at his twin with a fond, yet taunting gaze. Knocking Dante off guard for a brief second, before he quickly recovered.

“Heh…well I suppose that’s true! But this just proves it has other uses!” Dante lightly pat his twin on the shoulder affectionately. “Anyway, enjoy your meal bro! Let’s hope no special sauce leaks out of the other end this time!”

Dante winked at his brother with a cheeky grin as he finished talking. At first Vergil ignored him, moving to bite into his hotdog regardless. It was only after a second of processing what his twin had said, the cogs in his brain clicking into motion, that the young man realised what he was implying. His pale face quickly flushing with bright red once again. His sharp teeth just stopped shy from the hotdog's delicate bun, before slamming his mouth shut. Gritting his teeth together so tightly that his jaw began to shake.

The mercenary started to step backwards, already anticipating the ticking time bomb about to go off before her, as Vergil moved to click open Yamato’s blade with his free hand. A murderous glint in his blue eyes as he slowly tilted his head up and glared at his unassuming twin - still resting his hand on the blue demon’s shoulder. Toothy grin still etched into his features like he had been turned to stone.

I should probably get myself a soda! Lady thought to herself wisely. Breaking off in a sprint towards the food truck, the moment a flash of bright blue light sparked off behind her, out of the corner of her eye.

“DANTEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

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Click here to read more over on Ao3! :3

#devil may cry #dmc #dante #vergil #dmc lady #dmc vergil #dmc dante #dante sparda #vergil sparda #dmc fanfic

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