#LUDICROUS TIME SPENT PLAYING THE GAME CONSIDERING HOW IT IS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

custom-pik-2 · 6 months ago

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An Introduction(Spoilers for Pikmin 1, 2 & 4)[18+]

Screenshot sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot credited to Kirbys-adventure(Uploaded Aug. 5th, 2017)

On August 30th, 2004, Pikmin 2 was released in North America.

I turned nine the same day.

I wouldn't play it until Christmas 2005, and by that point I'd already played the first game, which I was terrible at and kept getting stuck in the third area. I still got a lot of mileage out of it, though, doing the same thing I did for every video game I played: restarting the file to experience the feeling of making progress again.

However, I vividly recall reaching the fourth area during one of these playthroughs and getting pretty excited about it.

That all came to a screeching halt when, on my first day in the area, a bunch of Pikmin I sent back to base started being killed by something, and by the time I got there, the few that remained were already being absorbed into some horrible, dark, blobby creature.

Seeing it freaked me out so bad I turned the game off and quit playing it altogether, thinking it was just an ordinary encounter I was expected to deal with.

It wouldn't be until a couple years later that I learned this enemy is only meant to appear after the player activates it; its presence here was actually a glitch.

Despite my experience, I still wanted the sequel, and given the focus of this account, I felt like providing a video of the intro, along with a written summary of the game's plot.

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youtube

Video uploaded by Dustin Bragg(Uploaded Feb. 2, 2008)

Pikmin 2 picks up where the last game ended: with a humanoid alien named Olimar(オリマー) departing the uncharted planet he crash-landed on, and returning to his homeworld of Hocotate. Unfortunately, upon his arrival, he's told the company he works for is going under after one of its newest employees, Louie(ルーイ), lost a shipment of golden carrots to a giant space bunny.

The company's president took out a massive loan to cover the loss, but without a way to repay it all, he's mired the company in debt. Fortunately, an object Olimar found on the uncharted planet is considered valuable enough to pay a bit of it off. With even more such treasures left there to discover, he and Louie are ordered to salvage enough of it until the debt's been paid off.

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I probably played the sequel even more than the first despite being even worse at it. I kept getting stuck in the second area and resorted to my "restart method" more frequently than usual.

However, I vividly recall reaching the third area during one of these playthroughs and getting pretty excited about it.

That all came to a screeching halt when, after stepping right outside my base, a giant mechanical spider came out of nowhere and started stomping my Pikmin to death.

For those who don't know, this encounter cannot occur in this area until at least 30 in-game days have elapsed.

It seriously took me at least that long to reach the third area in one of these playthroughs.

Anyone who has played this game, or hell, just watched a typical playthrough of it, will immediately know how ludicrous this is.

You may also be wondering what the hell I spent all that time doing, given there's not much you can do, and I honestly cannot remember. All I remember is the giant spider because it freaked me out so bad I turned the game off and quit playing it altogether.

I eventually went back and beat the first game, but never bothered with the second. I can't say I gained an affinity for either, and once I hit my early twenties, I lost interest in playing video games and preferred just watching others play them online.

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Around the same time — in 2014, I believe — I discovered a Tumblr account called Souichi Presents, which featured reviews/overviews of horror stories, primarily the works of Junji Itō(伊藤潤二). It was run by a guy named Frankie (aka friendlyfrankenstein) who, in 2020, teamed up with a friend of his known as Bugs (aka facefullabugz) to start a streaming channel on Twitch under the account facefullabugs.

I didn't start watching them until early 2023 after seeing this supercut*1 of their 2022 streams made by a person who goes by bubblymiilk, and the first one I watched was for Pikmin 2. I recalled very little about the game and still didn't care for the franchise much, but my familiarity compelled me enough to watch them play it. *1. Uploaded on Jan. 7th, 2023

If you'd like to watch it as well, the VODs have all been uploaded onto their YouTube channel Frankenbug VODs, but (as of the time I'm posting this) you can actually still watch the VODs on Twitch*1 if you prefer! Though, as a heads-up, the first VOD in the series doesn't actually begin with them playing Pikmin 2 but another game called Balan Wonderworld, so if you just want to get right to Pikmin 2, here's a link to 3:41:39 in the stream. *1. All VOD's uploaded on latter date: Stream 1. 1/1/22-1/2/22 Stream 2. 1/3/22-1/4/22 Stream 3. 1/19/22-1/20/22 Stream 4. 2/6/22-2/7/22 Stream 5. 3/14/22-3/15/22 Stream 6. 4/3/22-4/4/22 Stream 7. 5/4/22-5/5/22

However, if you'd like to watch them stream through Balan Wonderworld as well, here's a link to the VOD playlist on YouTube, and here is a link to the VODs*1 on Twitch. *1. All VOD's except first uploaded on latter date: Stream 1. 4/10/21 Stream 2. 4/13/21-4/14/21 Stream 3. 4/19/21-4/20/21 Stream 4. 4/26/21-4/27/21 Stream 5. 1/1/22-1/2/22

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Screenshot sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot credited to Waffles(Uploaded May 15, 2017)

While watching Frankie and Bug's playthrough, I recognized that the treasure above was a game for the Disk System, a Japanese-only disk-based add-on for Japan's equivalent to the NES, the Famicom.

Screenshots sourced from Moby Games Screenshot of manual cover credited to Adzuken(Uploaded Feb. 2, 2014) Screenshot of diskette credited to Teran(Uploaded Jan. 25, 2015)

Specifically, it was a copy of The Mysterious Murasame Castle, a (prior to 2014) Japanese-only Nintendo game released on April 14th, 1986.

I'd heard of this game from other sources before, but if I ever realized it appeared in Pikmin 2 before this, I'd totally forgotten. I looked into it a bit more online, and learning it was still a Japanese exclusive back in 2004 got me thinking about topics related to localization, which eventually led me to realize what a dilemma this treasure posed from a localizer's perspective.

The Cosmic Archive is intended to invoke nostalgia from an older demographic familiar with this era of Nintendo's history. Meanwhile, a younger generation might recognize it as an object from a past era.

However, in countries like America, where the Disk System and Murasame Castle hadn't been released, this intent is totally lost on the average person. Additionally, learning this stuff on your own wasn't as easy in 2004, as home computers still weren't too commonplace. Even then, though, knowing what this object is still wouldn't elicit the same response it would for the average person living in Japan, who would grasp its intentions more immediately.

A localizer's (theoretical) goal is to try bridging that cultural gap somehow, but doing so in this context is tricky. I mean, this isn't just a case of translating some text into a new language while capturing the spirit of the original text- it's replacing a whole object with another object that achieves that task.

Of course, this would take considerable time and effort for something so minor that it seemed (to me) like something Pikmin 2's localizers wouldn't even try to attempt. Besides, it's not like localizers always need to go so far, and even if the whole nostalgia angle is lost, the treasure still retains every other aspect ascribed to it in the Japanese script. Sometimes, that's just about the best a translator can do.

The notion, however, made me curious if any other treasures in the North American version remained unlocalized, so I looked up a list of them online, picking the one on Pikipedia.

Screenshots sourced from Pikipedia Both screenshots credited to Mabeloid(Photo A: Sep. 28, 2023|Photo B: Oct. 7, 2023)

That's when I learned a good handful of treasures in the North American version serve as replacements for treasures in the Japanese version. Furthermore, while several of these replacements (like the ones above) merely reuse the same model asset but with a different texture applied each time,

Screenshots sourced from Pikipedia Both screenshots credited to Mabeloid(Photo A: Sep. 29, 2023|Photo B: Oct. 7, 2023)

some are new models with little to no resemblance to their Japanese counterparts.

From this, I presumed the few unlocalized treasures only remained because the CG modelers lacked the time to craft new ones. (Note: I think this might have only been the case for some treasures now, but that's all I'll say about that here.)

These presumptions got me thinking about what these treasures could have been replaced with. However, I found myself simultaneously more intrigued by other details I noticed while going through all the treasures.

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First, I need to explain that every piece of treasure is placed into a "Series," and each of those follows a specific theme. For example, the Cosmic Archive is sorted into the "Blast from the Past Series," which revolves around Nintendo games and gaming devices that are (mostly) from the company's past.

However, it seemed to me that within each "Series," many treasures were divided into unspoken sub-series, each revolving around things like conceptual bonds, conceptual contrasts, size differentials, etc.

Screenshot sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot credited to Waffles(Uploaded May 15, 2017)

For example, the Cosmic Archive is paired with the Dream Architect, a recreation of an LCD game Nintendo released back in 1980 titled Ball. To explain how both are connected, however, I'll need to cover another feature of Pikmin 2: the "Treasure Hoard."

Screenshot sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot credited to Twins1105(Uploaded Jul. 18, 2024)

The "Treasure Hoard" is an in-game archive allowing you to view the treasures you've collected, as well as a few statistics on each one.

Screenshot credited to The One and Only: Maker of this Post Uploaded on First Post Day(Well, let's see how this goes.) Screenshot taken of this video by NintendoProductions2(Uploaded Apr. 12, 2015)

Each treasure also has a designated journal entry written by Olimar. These often feature his thoughts on the treasure or just some personal anecdote that's relevant to it in some way.

tsoP eht fo rekaM :ylnO dna enO ehT ot detiderc tohsneercS (?ecnereffid eht topS)yaD sdrawkcaB ylraeN no dedaolpU Screenshot taken of this video by NintendoProductions2(Uploaded Apr. 12, 2015)

Furthermore, your rocket AI will craft a sales pitch for each treasure in a completed "Series."

I mention these because they often enhance whatever binds a particular sub-series. For the treasure I'm focusing on, they help communicate their primary connection: Nintendo devices with features inaccessible to the characters.

In the Cosmic Archive's case, both characters specify how they can't access the data stored on the diskette. With the Dream Architect, they specify that the device is broken, although it's also possible the batteries in it are just dead- if it even has batteries at all. I mean, it's not like the characters would have any idea it needs them, so who's to say.

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Both devices are also framed as technologically advanced. The Cosmic Archive's name refers to the rocket AI's belief that it stores all information about the universe. Its sales pitch even states that the contents are inaccessible because the sheer amount of information makes it unprocessable. (It's 112 kilobytes of data…)

The Dream Architect's name also conveys this, though not as clearly in the international versions. In the Japanese version, the treasure's name literally translates to "Dream Ex Machina," which is obviously a play on deus ex machina, which is Latin for 'god from the machine.' It's likely that 'Architect' is being used to substitute this intent, as it invokes God being the creator of all things.

This isn't the only time the English translation obfuscates an association that was a bit clearer in the Japanese version. However, it was likely only done here because they couldn't include anything overtly religious in the translation. (Although the English version of Pikmin 2 does feature something like that, which I'll get into at…some point.)

Also, I feel the need to point out just how self-aggrandizing this is. It is Nintendo framing the devices they've made as some object of reverence; it's hilariously conceited.

Though I will concede, there is some self-awareness to it, as it's implied the rocket AI is just making shit up to make these unusable devices more appealing. Its sales pitch for the Dream Architect basically says: "Yeah, this thing doesn't work, but imagine how cool it'd be if it did!" Even so, I don't doubt there's at least a degree of sincerity here.

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There's at least one more potential connection for these two, but it requires a bit of context.

Screenshot sourced from Video Game Sage Screenshot credited to silentmonkee(Uploaded Mar. 31, 2021)

In Japan, Ball was actually the first in a line of LCD devices made by Nintendo collectively called Game & Watch, which could be used as clocks in standby mode.

The first five Game & Watch had silver-colored casings, but starting with the sixth entry, they opted for gold-colored ones.

Screenshot sourced from Video Game Sage Screenshot credited to silentmonkee(Uploaded Mar. 31, 2021)

The aesthetic change also helped mark a few hardware revisions, such as a settable alarm and a foldable kickstand on the back.

The games also offered a fairer challenge by featuring a mistake resetting mechanic. With the silver models, if you screwed up during a play session, it'd be tallied up in a 'Mistake Counter,' and reaching three mistakes reset your score to zero. For the revised model, though, if you score a certain amount of points during a play session, the tally resets to zero.

Lastly, because this hardware revision marked the end of an era for the line (and also possibly because none of the silver models were ever manufactured with all of these revisions while retaining the same build,) Nintendo decided to separate these two models into the "Silver series" and "Gold series."

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Now, the diskette isn't gold-colored, but it is a color commonly used in depictions of gold, and I feel that's intentional. It would also be far from the only example of Pikmin 2's developers pairing something silver with something gold.

Screenshot of Lustrous Element sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot credited to Kittyslash0(Uploaded Nov. 24, 2017) Screenshot of Mirrored Element sourced from Pikmin Wiki Screenshot credited to Scittery_Leaves23(Uploaded Apr. 2, 2014)

Screenshots sourced from Pikipedia Screenshot of Pink Menace credited to Marty(Uploaded May 28, 2016) Screenshot of Joyless Jewel credited to Scittery_Leaves23(Uploaded Oct. 16, 2014)

Screenshots sourced from Pikipedia Screenshots credited to Marty(Both Uploaded May 27, 2016)

Of course, that raises the question of why they didn't just pair it with a Gold series G&W. I mean, it'd certainly be easier to slightly modify an existing CG model than create a brand-new one.

There are numerous possible explanations for this choice. For example, it could have been done to bring more visual variety to the treasure you're collecting. Another example would be they made one model before the other and only noticed the comparison they could make afterward.

However, upon noticing these sub-series, I came to a specific conclusion because I realized that some treasures either lacked any discernable pairing(s) or had one(s) I considered a stretch.

The 'Cosmic Archive+Dream Architect' sub-group would be an example of the latter, as both have a more obvious pairing. I've already gone into the Dream Architect's, but for the Cosmic Archive, you'd think they'd pair it with a cartridge-based Famicom game, right?

Again, there are numerous ways to explain these choices. For the one-offs, it could be they felt certain treasures would stand out more if they were on their own. For the odd pairings, maybe they simply felt any connection was good enough.

However, my immediate conclusion was that this signified unfulfilled ideas: that the developers wanted to give each of these treasures a pairing but couldn't for some reason or had to settle for less sensible options.

This got me wondering: what would suit these treasures best? This query, bolstered by my ponderings over how specific treasures could be localized, convinced me to craft a list of treasures for the North American version that took my observations into account.

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When I decided to do this, I did not think about how long it might take to make.

I just inherently assumed it wouldn't take long- that I'd spend a few days on it at most and then move on. I was only doing it for fun and didn't plan to take it that seriously because, as I said, I'm not a Pikmin fan. I don't even know why I was fixating on these questions.

While this project never grew into anything too extravagant (and I don't plan it to), it did become more involved than I anticipated, and it wasn't until last April I settled on something I was pleased with.

That's because I ended up crafting custom versions for each major regional version of Pikmin 2 that altered more about the game than just adding a couple treasures. I also crafted a custom version of Pikmin 2's HD remaster that features all the additions in my custom versions and alters several treasures just like the real remaster does. I also crafted a rough custom version of Pikmin 4 because that game takes several cues from Pikmin 2, to the point where it felt negligent to not think of such a thing.

At some point in the process, I got the idea of sharing my custom versions of Pikmin 2 online, as I thought some folks might get a kick out of them. My guide through them will double as overviews of the real versions, as knowing their contents is necessary to explain decisions I made.

Also, while I plan to occasionally mention the other Pikmin games and cover stuff in my custom Pikmin 4, I won't be covering any of them extensively.

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That out of the way, the rest of this post is going to revolve around the North America-only NES game Monster Party, which was released in June 1989 and developed by Human Entertainment (who went by Sonata*1 during part of its development) and published by Bandai.

Screenshot sourced from Moby Games Screenshot credited to The Game Boy(Uploaded Dec. 27, 2010)

Before I can get into this game, I must say up-front that it's best experienced going in fairly blind. I played it (via emulation) for the first time recently, and all the years I spent committing its most worthwhile aspects to memory did it no favors.

I realize that's obvious, but I only did that because I thought I'd never play this game. I've never owned an NES and was only vaguely aware of emulation when I learned about it back in…2008, I think? But, yeah, that's why I opted to experience it second-hand.

Saying that, though, I doubt I'd have enjoyed the game that much more if I knew nothing about it going in.

The game's biggest flaw is that much of it sees you navigating drab, simplistic, and fairly unchallenging levels designed to make you stay in them longer to ensure you don't beat the game in less than an hour. Some are more egregious about this than others, but all have this quality to some extent.

Furthermore, every level (or "Round" as they're called in-game, which I'll be sticking with from here-on) is filled with bosses you need to beat, some being more difficult than anything else you'll encounter and will likely be what kills you. Thankfully, you have infinite continues and a password feature, so you don't have to restart the whole game if you die. However, dying puts you back at the start of a Round with all the bosses reset, which can make the game's structure somewhat monotonous.

However, as I said, the Rounds themselves aren't that difficult, and I still managed to beat this game in only three hours on my first playthrough, and subsequent playthroughs only took around one hour. And I don't say that to brag, like, I might have gotten better at games back in the day, but I never got great, and this was the first one I've played in a long-ass time. I was really expecting it would take way longer to beat, and the fact it didn't, I feel, says something about it.

I also find it telling my later playthroughs are so much shorter than the first. The reason for that is I was stuck on one Round for a while until I figured out how to navigate it; once I did, it was no trouble at all.

I also probably could have shaved a bit more time off that first playthrough if I hadn't engaged in two things I remembered from discussions and videos online but pretended I didn't so that my first playthrough could be as authentic as I could make it. One of them, I won't go into here, but the other I will because, honestly, I'd feel bad if I didn't.

As stated before, every Round in the game has bosses you need to beat, but "Round 7" can be completed without beating all its bosses. If you beat them all anyway, you'll activate a glitch that soft-locks the game. Of course, you can still have enemies kill you to reset the bosses like always, so it's not like you have to reset the whole console or anything. (or you can just use save states if you're emulating it.)

Anyway, it was hard for me to decide whether I should recommend this game or not. I mean I know I just spent several paragraphs criticizing it, but honestly I feel this game's moderate difficulty somewhat alleviates its flaws. Like, if it was harder while retaining its boring level design and somewhat repetitive structure, then yeah I'd just call it a waste of time to play. As it stands, I think it just barely passes the grade into me giving it a cautious recommendation. (Though, I also can't deny I'd sooner just recommend watching a playthrough of it. There's tons of them out there.)

Now, I'd say it's about time I finally went into this game in a little more detail IN THE NEXT POST!

You see, I wrote the early drafts for this post on WordPad and not on Tumblr itself (I hate writing posts on Tumblr itself), and I've had very little experience on the platform, so I didn't know posts had a photo limit of thirty.

I structured my post around having far more than thirty photos.

Rather than re-edit it yet again, I've elected to just split it into three seperate posts, with the second part right here!

However, should you be parting way here, thank you for reading this far.

#pikmin #pikmin 2 #pikmin 4 #custom pikmin 2 #nes monster party

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lavenderwhirls · 2 years ago

Note

Winner Chapter 1

(No, Dr. Keh doesn't know the ovenist's name)

__________________

Dr. Keh ___________________

There was a lot of things Dr. Keh shouldn't have done that day. He shouldn't have driven his sister to a party at 1 AM while suffering from four hours of sleep and a headache. He shouldn't have gone to get one of those terrible at best pizzas (he was hungry) and he shouldn't have eavesdropped. He also shouldn't have gotten riled up, especially considering how tired he was.

Memories of getting upset at the wrong person. His name dragged through the mud, and his sister's too. Calm. Go back to the table and eat this garbage pizza and pretend you never heard anything-

And then the pretty girl-the new ovenist in town-started joining in on the conversation and Dr. Keh's resolve to keep quiet died. Everyone backed away when he approached except the new girl and one of her friends-who was trying to get the pretty girl to leave. The pretty girl ignored her friend.

"You don't know what you're talking about, especially when it comes to making pizzas" was a horrible opening, especially from one ovenist to another-of course she knew what she was talking about, she made her own pizzas-but Dr. Keh used it anyway.

The pretty girl was willing to fight back, and there was something in Dr. Keh that welcomed the challenge. He must be more tired than he realized.

"What in the world are you talking about? I own my own pizza restaurant, buttface." The pretty girl said.

"Pfft. Everyone in this pizza-obsessed does. Them, their friend, their grandmother. That doesn't mean they know what they're doing." Dr. Keh said. Which is true, for the most part. He's only exaggerating slightly.

"What's your criteria, then?" The pretty girl asked. There's a light in her eyes, like she wants to know so she can say she already fits the criteria.

Dr. Keh doesn't want to let her fit it, doesn't want her to have this victory. So he talks about fame and trophies-which he has plenty of. And she doesn't.

"Your criteria is stupid." The pretty girl says.

This girl was testing his patience. Thankfully, however, she'd also given him a great opportunity for a clever comeback.

"You're just jealous." Dr. Keh smirks.

"Jealous! Why'd I be jealous of you?" There's something in the pretty girl's tone that implies that she thinks it's utterly ludicrous to be jealous of him, and Dr. Keh doesn't know how it makes him feel.

Before he knows it he's ranting, about all the competitions he's won and his experience and-

The pretty girl looks bored.

"Oh, shut up and go to the questionare competition with me." The pretty girl interrupts.

"What?" Dr. Keh hadn't expected that response.

"Prove that you're as skilled as you claim. You've spent a whole ten minutes talking about all the competitions you've won-surely it'd be easy to beat me in a game of pizza questionare."

Dr. Keh did a double take.

It'd been years since anyone played pizza questionare with him. Or even wanted to. His sister would play with him, sometimes, but it wasn't something she enjoyed and he'd always had to bribe her.

It almost felt like dream come true, having someone willingly challenge him-

The pretty girl's friends had pulled her aside (Dr. Keh could still hear them fine, though) and were trying to convince her not to play with him, because he always won. No point in playing.

Guess he wasn't going to play, then. But then the pretty girl was pushing her friends away and demanding an answer. Would he play pizza questionare with her? "Yes."

Looks like it wasn't a mistake to come to the party this time. (Author's note: Pizza questionare is a game I made up for the sake of the fanfic. It's only played at the place where Dr. Keh and the ovenist currently are at. The rules are that each person answers a question about pizza. First person who can't answer the question is out).

(Alani is the person in charge of the pizza questionare)

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Time skip-the ovenist and Dr. Keh have signed up for the pizza questionare

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It'd been a long while since Dr. Keh had played Pizza questionare, yet clearly Alani still remembered the competitions he'd been in. She'd looked exhausted.

She'd also started immediately with the really hard questions, instead of doing the easy ones. Dr. Keh knew she did that so his competitor would answer wrong early so Alani didn't have to keep the competition going for a long time.

Surprisingly, the pretty girl hadn't looked phased, even when Alani started asking questions from exclusive rare pizza books. And the pretty girl just kept on answering the questions correctly. Each and every single one.

It was rare that Dr. Keh ever played against someone this good. It was invigorating, having to strain to remember the answer to the next question. Remembering pieces of trivia he'd never used.

It wasn't supposed to feel this good. He loved pizza questionare, but the fun was knowing he'd crush his opponent easily. The one time it'd been a challenge it'd been stressful, and that person had been in the business for years, unlike the pretty girl-

Dr. Keh couldn't loose to an ovenist who'd been in the business for two months. He couldn't. The pretty girl answered another question correctly with a bored look on her face.

Suddenly the fun was gone.

Alani looked more and more miserable the longer the competition went on. Eventually her face twisted up, and she asked the most ludicrous question Dr. Keh had ever heard. What happened to poop if someone ate a radioactive pizza with fungus on it? What kind of question was that?

Dr. Keh didn't know the answer, and he'd expected the pretty girl to not know it either. But then the pretty girl started talking-Dr. Keh admired her ability to tell several long stories about poop with a straight face. Alani was still for a few seconds. Then she said 'correct' and started all but throwing the trophy at the pretty girl.

He'd lost. He'd lost pizza questionare. Dr. Keh was more surprised at the fact that he lost because of a question about radioactive poop of all things than the fact that he lost.

Is it worth it to start studying poop just so he can win next time? No.

Dr. Keh really should do something other than stare, or say something to the pretty girl who was the first one to beat him. But then Alani started kicking them both out of the store, saying it was closing time.

Dr. Keh was positive that Alani was just trying to not deal with another competition, and was surprised to see that it actually was 6 AM.

Dr. Keh heard a voice behind him-his sister, asking him to drive. The fact that Dr Keh hadn't slept for over 24 hours suddenly him and he demanded that his sister drive instead.

____________________

It's only after Dr. Keh has slept for a few hours that a few facts really hit him.

(A) he'd lost pizza questionare for the first time

(B) he'd lost to an ovenist who was open for only two months

The final question😭

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pellelavellan · 1 year ago

Text

Pelle was absolutely flabbergasted. Was he--was he serious right now? Was he testing him to see how easy he was right now? Truthfully if you asked him he would say he was very easy, though he wasn't sure if that was an opinion of himself he'd formed on his own or with help from a good few well...he would just call them mistakes.

He didn't hate the idea of having sex actually, it had just been a long time. For him at least. He was certain a little over a year was not a long time to some but he'd been sexually active since he was a teenager. Not all of involved him being penetrated by other men, the good chunk of it he just touched them or sucked them off maybe so they could be repulsed by whatever it was he chose to do with the little pleasure they expelled from their bodies. He hadn't engaged in a single sexual experience with anyone but himself since his last relationship abruptly ended. He'd spent a good amount of time considering if it was right to do so, or how long should he wait before he even considered it? There had to be a line between heartless asshat and incapable of moving on. Unfortunately that line started and began in different places for everyone.

Maybe a one night stand wasn't the worst way to go about it. He didn't get any impression from Talon that he had actual feelings for him. That alone removed a lot of the complicated things that took a lot of energy to process, the feelings part and all that. Secondly, it got out of his system the tension mounting between them. Talon was hot, there was no need to pretend he wasn't, whether it was his looks or the charisma flaunted Pelle wasn't sure. What he did know was that the way Talon looked to him, smirked when he caught him unawares, even the feeling of his fingers under his chin, they all did something to him, made him want to cross his legs and pretend he was not incredibly turned on by this man's confidence.

Talon offering to sleep with him outright did not help at all. He couldn't really deny that somewhere deep down he wanted Talon to fuck him, he just wouldn't have been so bold to make the first move. He would have gone on forever horny and frustrated really.

Because he was incredibly stupid he laughed, not in an amused way, rather in the way someone laughs when they're caught red handed and might faint of embarrassment. "You want to fuck me?" The statement sounded ludicrous out loud.

If this was the game they were going to play then he had better step up to the challenge. He could feel it that his cheeks were once again red hot from the blood rushing to greet something between shyness and arousal, but he certainly wasn't going to take the coward's way out.

"To be completely, and wildly fuckin honest with you--" he paused halfway through his confession. Mythal's blessed tits he was not used to admitting his own attraction to other people. Something about it was still a bit scary even though Talon had boldly told him outright he was interested in having sex with him.

"The only man I've got my eyes on is you." That wasn't so bad was it? His heart pounding against his chest would absolutely disagree.

Pelle rolled his eyes at the offered advice. He didn't need how to get drunk lessons, and he was sure the look he gave Talon sald more than enough about how useless the advice was. Obviously he knew how to get drunk. This ale however was just not going to do that, not unless he drank several of them very quickly and at that point would it even be worth it? He'd be drunk sure but he'd probably just piss through the entire experience.

There were a handful of clever comebacks he might have had for the assassin if he hadn't done what Pelle was becoming suspicious he might be a professional at: catching him completely off guard. He was grateful that he wasn't in the middle of one of his long hopeless sips when Talon made such a crude suggestion or he'd have certainly choked on it. The grace of not choking however could not save him from his own face who could not hide a facial expression to save his life.

His amber eyes widened like orbs, he was pretty sure his mouth dropped open too or the gasp that escaped from him wouldn't have seemed so loud. Maybe it wasn't even that loud and he just thought it was. This time he wasn't relying on his own expression to make his point, he was more hoping it was not giving away what he was thinking about.

Was that a suggestion or an offer? Was he hitting on him? That was very forward if he was but he kind of liked it? Was Talon into men? Would be nice if he was he was pretty easy on the eyes. Did Talon know he was interested in men? Did he figure out? What gave it away? Was he overthinking the entire thing and Talon was offering to be his wingman? it was probably that. Why would the assassin recommending sex as a viable remedy for stress relief mean: "you need a good man to bend you over a table. You look like you'd like that because you're so well...this"? It definitely mean "Oh ya women great stress relief boobs am I right?" Yes, yes it was absolutely that.

But there was absolutely nothing very straight about him staring at some man who just suggested he get laid with his mouth hanging wide open. So he mustered up a little composure, which required another drink of his pathetic ale.

"Well I don't see anyone exactly offering." he stated matter of factly. That was what a normal person would say. Completely normal. Entirely not thinking about whether or not it was the man suggesting he get laid who wanted to make that happen singlehandedly as opposed to pointing in any other direction than himself. "Unless you've got someone in mind?"

#quiisquiliae #c: Talon #{{ it is not death i refuse by extinction }} inquisitor #nsfw-ish

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thecrushheb · 2 years ago

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Just finished Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous and I need to get some thoughts down about it. I mean, 130 hours is so much to dedicate to something, of course I have thoughts. *SPOILERS*

A few things to premise my thoughts:

1. I played a Chaotic Good, Half-Orc, Barbarian (Invulnerable Rager) w/ 9 levels of Dragon Disciple. Full tanky strength build (could get to like 48 str when fully buffed. Probably could have gone higher had I understood mechanics a bit better, more on that later).

2. I played the Azata mythic path

3. I romanced Wenduag

4. Had to put the crusade on auto because it was unbearable

*Mechanics*

Okay so I’ll start by talking about the mechanics. I really enjoyed building my character, and even spent a bunch of time in the respec screen without saving just seeing what I could make of my guy and my companions (Wenduag Rough Rowdy double throwing axes is ludicrous), it was fun. My issue was that I felt like if I didn’t min max as hard as I possibly could I would be completely left out to die against some of the games many wild difficulty spikes. I started by just dropping the difficulty a bit, but then realized I really had to just look at some build guides for certain characters because we were still getting wrecked. It helped a lot (again, Wenduag could get ridiculous, also had a good nenio build I liked), but I don’t like that to even play at .8 damage against and slightly weaker enemies I had to optimize like a champ.

And I mentioned the difficulty spikes, my goodness. There were a bunch of random fights that I had to look up strats or just see if people found them as crazy hard as I did, then just drop the difficulty to get through the extra tough ones. I know that this is sort of a “git gud” situation, but like, it’s just not why I play crpgs. At least not to that degree. I loved Neverwinter Nights 2 and never messed with the difficulty, even turned the difficulty on Divinity Original Sin 2 higher because I enjoyed it so much, but the combat just felt less strategic and more tedious, to the point that I realized if I tried a couple things and still couldn’t get it, I was just going to enjoy myself more turning the difficulty down rather than trying to puzzle the fight out like I would in Divinity. Couldn’t beat it with all my summons and buffs and positioning my guys right? Well, not worth trying again adjusting my strategy incrementally, easy mode it goes.

I think this partially stems just from the pathfinder system and how much randomness is in a d20, but also they really went full power gamer for this game, so it was completely self inflicted. The mystic paths gave such a ludicrous power jump that to keep up with that there had to be power spikes for enemies, and if you didn’t optimize all choices and understand every buff system and spell system, there was stuff that was just going to be too hard. I mean, there was a point where I looked up a guide for a quest and it mentioned that one of the only ways to really have a good chance against a certain mini boss was to debuff it in a particular way that I just would never have thought of, and didn’t have the spell for. So like, what am I even doing right? I did end up completing the game on .8 damage against and slightly weaker enemies, but, the occasional mini boss had to be nuked on easy just to get the story, which I didn’t feel good doing. It also made you really consider party makeup mechanically which I don’t want to do with so many good competing personalities. Sure I was the only tank, but I wasn’t about to lug Seelah around just to not die when that slot could be taken by a character with a personality.

Verdict: really fun character building system, characters got too powerful and power spikey to handle in a fun way eventually.

*Main story*

Kinda ass. Okay I’ll be more thorough. I did not give even half a shit about the main story until... Minhago? and even with her and staunton I was really just reaching for things to hang onto, then wasn’t engaged again until mid act 4. The biggest issue was that there was no characters to attach to anything and generic fighting demons on a crusade against evil just had nothing that hooked me in; until they put character to the plots. Once Areelu was an actual character involved, and the demon lords (minor as well, looking at you minhago) showed up, actually making the conflict personal, I got into it, but that was like 90 some odd hours in except the small Minhago and Staunton thread. Everything else having to do with the main story until then felt like a complete drag and time sink. Galfrey might have been able to save it a bit if she had a stronger personality early on, but even then, meh.

It didn’t help that it starts with absolutely no context, you don’t know who you are (horrible trope), and have no relationships. I compare here to Neverwinter Nights 2 that starts you in town with friends and everyone knows you and talks to you letting you in on who you are, it made the next bits of story actually hold weight. Here it does not. It throws you into a conflict, kills a dragon you don’t know, then tells you to make your way to the surface with Seelah, who has the personality of a bud light. But I’m getting ahead of myself, this is about the main plot. I’ll wrap it up though: Put faces to your main plot movers and I’ll care. Baphomet’s portion of plot in act 5 felt entirely like a side quest (maybe it was, it’s hard to tell what you actually had to do and what was skippable), but I also wanted desperately to face him because he had personality and weight (and maybe the best portrait).

Areelu’s lab was terrible and not engaging until I viewed it in retrospect. Everything Areelu in the 5th act was amazingly done and engaging, but context was left too late. All the Demon lords were awesome, loved Noctula, what a well written and performed character. in fact

Voice Acting: A+ the best I've ever heard in a game, and from so much of the cast.

Alushinyrra was so frustrating to navigate I almost quit on multiple occasions, and like everything in the game, I spent 70% of it just trying to knock out quests, then was really engaged in the final bits of all the quests. This was the section with the best quests, and had it not been for the infuriating navigation would have been the best section of the game. Great characters and good writing in here, but too much running around spinning the camera to build into those quests.

The final revelations, where you leave each major player from Galfrey to the demon lords to Areelu, was all phenomenal. What a way to wrap up an enormous game and made it all feel worth it in the end (despite all the bitching). Incredibly well tied up, but the good writing was entirely back loaded (likely they wrote out the very intricate story beforehand and then when parceling out revelations couldn’t figure out how to evenly spread it without spoiling parts or wrapping up some things but not others in a way they wanted. I can see the dilemma as a writer, but it doesn’t make it work).

*Azata (short section)*

This was fine, it lent cool gameplay moments throughout the rest of the game being able to drop in songs and heal parts of the land, interactions with beings from Elysium, allowing me to be the paragon of chaotic good with a love of nature I so love to be (and sort of am irl). However the actual story parts that were azata story missions were really mid. Nothing particularly interesting happened there (”a floating island!” doesn’t really feel too crazy in Golarion, idk why everyone there treated it like it was nuts, like we’re in the worldwound guys). Also, the characters were the most irritatingly written. I really don’t want to meet the person who wrote the dragon companion’s dialog and wasn’t embarrassed to put that shit out to the world.

*Characters (finally)*

I spent most of the game with: Wenduag, Daeron, Ember, Nenio, and Arueshalae. I also did quite a bit of Camellia’s quest. I know I missed out on so many companions and this is the biggest driver of any future replay I might do.

Imagine a paladin who drinks, that’s Seelah. And that’s why I didn’t bring her as soon as I had enough companions to make choices. Game was too long for her decent personality to not get old way too fast as it was way too one note and she doesn’t react much to your choices. Flat.

Something I did absolutely love: “Choose between two for your next companion” is awesome! And a little almost self contained module to lead you to your decision, it just was so engaging and made me so much more attached to my choice that they were the companion I cared about most, and the only one I cared about really, for the next 30-40 hours, until the rest of them had some time to make half the impression that the choice gave you. Great writing.

I went with Wenduag. I knew nothing about the story or world yet except that there was a demon lord upstairs who just killed a dragon everyone told me was powerful. Did Wendu seem evil? Sure. But she also had a really good point about Lann’s weakness, and he didn’t do anything to dispel that notion. I needed her, and knew that if it came to it I could ditch her later too. But then she lied to me and I was captivated. I was captivated because in her lie, she also was clearly lying to herself. And the voice actor, my lord, what a performance. Without the acting and subtle writing I might have missed her lying to herself, but it was there for sure. She *did* care about her tribe like she’d initially said, just maybe not too much, but also why would she lie and say she didn’t at all when she was confessing to lying about saying she did? Immediately she showed an insecurity that made her interesting. As a chaotic good I just kept poking and prodding her toward goodness and showing her I cared, that she belonged, and exploring her insecurities, and her arc was brilliant. There were definitely a few writing blunders where I think she came off a little too uncaring and evil a little too late in her arc, but how it ended and the times it got it right along the way were next level good. The actor’s performance for her final questline, voice shaking and choked with emotion, was the best (I ran out of superlatives). Immediately makes it onto my s tier character writing and performance all time.

Ember... She was alright. I think finding her warranted more build, more story, like Wenduag had. She’s too bizarre to just drop in like the others. Once I did feel like I got what her deal was (as much as you can with what you’re given), I liked having her in the party. Her banter was good (they all had good banter tbh), her quest was compelling but felt very obvious and without nuance. I liked getting an end slide that she made Noctula become the redeemer queen, like that was seriously awesome, but she didn’t have many facets to her (also her quest glitched at like, the last moment and I never technically completed it. though, getting that Noctula end slide tells me I did enough. her being sad at the end though because a quest wouldnt complete when i completed it made me sad).

Camellia, what a creep. Interesting plot to her story, delightfully nasty, but being even a little good made it almost impossible to go along with anything she wanted lol. She’s evil as hell, so it could be better with an evil playthrough, but I didn’t get the sense she would really arc at all. Basically you just find new levels of perversion, which is interesting and engaging, but I didn’t finish her questline so I don’t want to say too much.

Nenio’s quest was so compelling but lacked personality. It was very spotty too picking up bits of it randomly and again with no real story to it. And that megadungeon to finish her quest was damn near unbearable. She was annoying but it made for good banter, especially with NPCs and enemies, loved having her in the party, spent entirely too much time on a quest with no narrative for her though. I felt like it had the potential to be more fleshed out.

Daeron had a fantastic personality, great banter, great quest to meet him, great personal quest too. Only issue I had, which takes him down a half a notch, is that the end to his quest was really lackluster. It was such a cool premise and then you don’t interact with it for ages and when it finally comes back its just a small confrontation where you’re forced to kill Liotr, for what? Can’t see myself playing through without him, or at least if I do to make room for other companions on a new playthrough I will definitely miss him. I was disappointed that despite seemingly not really being truly evil, just fronting to keep face as an aristocrat since he came with me and just did good acts for the entirety of the game, he was just regular evil for the closing slides.

Arueshalae had the most satisfying change in her character (except maybe Wenduag), redeeming herself from being a succubus. As an azata, this might have been the most fitting romance for me, but just going through her quest platonically was so satisfying. Going into her dreams and watching her learn to have feelings like a human was well done. My one gripe was that she seemed so naïve for someone who had apparently ruined tons of lives eating souls as a succubus. She should have been a lot more mature, and I feel like she was made kind of clueless just for “Born Sexy Yesterday” trope’s sake. Her parts of her quest where she was dealing with things she genuinely wouldn’t understand, or dealing with her past where she had to acknowledge the things she’d done were the best bits because they forced her into the character she should have been. Coincidentally her banter was poor because of her unfathomable childishness outside of those.

Overall I enjoyed the game a ton, but the strength of the ending really rose tints what was a slog for a huge portion. The fact that I’m saying I’d consider replaying would have sounded insane to me between hours 40 and 90. The biggest thing holding it back was that it just had so much fucking stuff. So much breadth that it took ages to get to the depth of any piece of it, and so little was self contained until you started wrapping things up at the end. I started out thinking the characters were super weak, and ended up considering Wenduag, Arueshalae, and Daeron(’s personality only), among the best companion writing, maybe straight up the best companion writing I’ve ever played. I also consider the strength of the personalities in the game, from many companions to the many demon lords, the guy that ran the battlebliss, areelu, some of the most compelling personalities I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder #wenduag #prince daeron #arueshalae #nenio #an ember in the ashes #camellia #azata

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ethanesimp · 4 years ago

Text

LET ME GO // V. D. A.

Pairing: Servant! Victoria De Angelis x Royal GN! Reader

Summary: You're cornered into making a decision that won't only break your heart but Vic's too.

Request: Maybe something that makes me cry

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death threats and death, arranged marriage, swearing

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

Taglist: @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @bidet-and-legolas

A/N: I hope this is sad enough nonnie and that you like it :) It's my first time writing for Vic so I hope y'all enjoy reading as much as I did writing it! And yess, we’re still continuing this angst fest :)

Love was a double-edged sword.

That was one of the first things you learned in your life. You’d see people in pain, crying and destroying themselves for it. It took you a long time to understand why one would do so much for a person, what was so special about them to sacrifice so much?

It took Victoria for you to fully understand. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful, energetic, and sweetest people you’d ever met. Those gorgeous blue eyes and endearing laugh made you fall head over heels for the girl you often saw around the castle ever since you were little.

Ever since you shared your first kiss with her at the back of the stables while your friend Thomas looked out for guards, you knew your relationship was going to live on borrowed time but had always refused to dwell on the thought too much.

You were aware the circumstances you lived in were like a ticking time bomb stuck to your back. It was far too obvious and you’d be too naïve to think otherwise considering you were a member of royalty and the kingdom would eventually be your burden to carry. However, what you weren’t aware of was how easily things would fall apart or when, or how quickly.

You’d already spent three years of pure bliss next to Victoria, sneaking around the castle and stealing moments and memories only the two of you knew about. You couldn’t deny that you’d always longed for more, to be able to show all your love for her in public and ask her to rule the kingdom by your side, but no amount of dreaming or wondering about what if’s would ever make your situation any different.

Six words were all it took for your bubble of denial to finally burst. Those six little words kept on repeating inside your head over and over again as you held Victoria in your arms. Her pretty eyes were looking into yours and a sad smile adorned her face as you brushed her hair back with your fingers. You could see the tears in her eyes and knew she could see yours, but neither of you dared to comment on it yet.

It was a delicate subject and neither of you wanted to talk first in fear of triggering an argument, even if you were both aware it was coming soon and there was no way to stop it. So you just sat there together in complete silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sporadic sounds of the window creaking because of the wind and the soft crack of wood burning on the large fireplace.

You placed a soft peck on her lips and caressed her cheek delicately with your thumb, also removing the tears from her rosy cheeks. You pressed your forehead against hers and tightly closed your eyes as you smelled the sweet scent of flowers that hung in the air because of the small flowers woven into her light hair.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around your body as if she was afraid that you’d suddenly vanish in the form of smoke and would slip from her fingers. You held her closer as a form of reassurance and sighed when you felt her once quiet sobs turn so violent they’d shake her whole body.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled and rubbed circles on her exposed back. You wanted nothing more than to take away all the pain she felt and let her know things would be alright, but you didn’t want to lie to her either, “I’m so sorry you had to see all that amore.”

She shook her head and buried her face against your chest as she cried harder. Victoria had always been so strong, so unbreakable, yet those six little words had just broken her and her heart into a thousand pieces.

You’re getting married tomorrow. No questions.

You’d been set to marry the heir of a nearby kingdom ever since you were a little kid, promised away to the other royal in exchange for resources to save a dying kingdom and they’d told you all about it in front of your friends… and your girlfriend.

Your father had made you meet them right in front of her. The young royal, ignorant to your situation, had even gone as far as to kiss both your cheeks and quickly peck your lips. You had all been so taken aback by it, but no one commented on it because it would look suspicious.

Even though all you wanted to do was take Victoria and run as far away as your legs would take you, the conversation you’d had with your father just minutes before the announcement stopped you from even trying.

He looked exasperated, angry. You’d tried to browse your mind for anything you’d done wrong as of late but couldn’t come up with anything. There was no reason for him to be as mad as he seemed.

“I seem so stupid to you, don’t I? You ungrateful child,” He’d spoken, tone sharp and voice laced with venom. You had flinched at how harsh his words sounded, still clueless as to what he was talking about, “I could put up with you not giving a shit about the Kingdom that will soon be yours because you’d have to stop that childish behavior of yours. But sneaking around with a maid’s daughter? That’s just ludicrous!”

Your heart fell to your stomach right then and there. He knew.

“I have tried so much, given you every single thing you wanted to hopefully get you to listen, but I’m tired of playing nice. You’re getting married tomorrow. No questions. And don’t you dare try and run away unless you want all her friends and family killed the second you step foot out of this castle.”

She thankfully hadn’t heard your father’s words and you weren’t planning on telling her a thing. You knew for sure that if she’d heard, you would’ve already lost her. She had always been one to stand up against things that were wrong, and that time wouldn’t have been an exception. Unfortunately, your father was anything but lenient and you had no doubt that if she even thought of raising her voice at him things would end in chaos.

“This is so unfair,” She murmured against your chest as more sobs escaped her lips. You stroked her head gently and nodded, “I know it is, I know.”

Then, she raised her head and looked at you with excited eyes as she wiped her tears away. She had an idea and you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it, “Let’s run away, Y/N. Right now. I have an aunt who lives far away in a kingdom where they will never find us! And we can be happy.”

Your gaze softened at her words. There was nothing you wanted more than to run away with Victoria, far from your parents and the responsibilities you’d been born into. You would’ve tried it too had your father not threatened to kill her family and friends if you did so. But you weren’t going to say a thing.

“Victoria… We can’t- I can’t,” Her smile fell the moment she heard your words. She pulled away and left your embrace, making you instantly miss the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

Victoria sat down next to you, her eyes focused on yours as if she were trying to read your mind, “What do you mean you can’t? This hasn’t been the first time we’ve talked about it and you’ve always agreed to do it if we ever needed it, which we do now. What’s changed?”

You had to look away after hearing just how hurt she sounded. You didn’t want to see her cry again because you knew you’d end up telling her every single thing your father told you. Anything would’ve been better than having to tell her, so you decided to say something that would not only break her heart but yours too, “I just can’t, okay? Vic, we were being childish! I cannot just flee the kingdom and expect no consequences. That was a stupid idea that would never work. I need to serve my duty, not run off with some servant’s daughter and forget all about my responsibilities here!”

She moved even further away from you. Victoria didn’t even try to hide the hurt caused by your words, “Oh, okay. I get it now,” She nodded and laughed bitterly as she turned around and gathered all the clothes that had previously been scattered all over the room, ”All this time I’ve been nothing but a fool...

“You know, when this all started between us, my friends kept telling me you were just using me for your amusement,” Victoria spoke. Her tone almost made you flinch because it just had as much venom laced in it as your father’s had earlier that day, “I never believed it, you know? I thought you loved me! But no, you’re just as hungry for power as all those fucking bastards, and I was nothing more than just your little game.”

Her words felt like agonizingly painful stabs to the heart. You didn’t give a shit about power, about the kingdom, about anything but her. However, you weren’t selfish enough to be driven by your desire to be with her, a desire that was almost a need at that point. At least not after knowing everything that was on the line. Her family… her friends, friends who had become your own too.

Oh how much you wanted to cave in. You wanted to reach out to her and wrap your arms around her frame while you told her just how sorry you were, how much you didn’t mean those words. But you stayed quiet instead and listened to her insults, took them in, and tried your hardest not to flinch or shed a tear, as much as it hurt to do so.

You didn’t stop her either when she ran out the door, tired from crying and screaming at you. Instead, you waited until she harshly shut the door behind her to finally cry. You cried and cried for what seemed like an eternity, got up from the bed, and tore the room to pieces out of pure frustration and hatred to both the universe and your parents for doing this to you.

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as you smashed the mirror to pieces with your shoe and tore off the blue wallpaper from the walls. Then, with weak knees and a heavy heart, you slid down the wall and sat on the floor. You pressed your forehead to your knees and placed your hands over your face as you cried some more.

Eventually, you fell asleep, exhausted from all the crying and heartbreak you were feeling, wanting nothing but for it to stop. Not too far away, Victoria was being held in the arms of her best friend, who held her while she cried and fell apart in his embrace. No one who was with the two knew what to say. Contrary to what Victoria had said in an attempt to hurt you, all her friends believed you were head over heels for her. Everyone knew you’d do every single thing she asked, but they had all been proven wrong.

─────────༺♡༺─────────

There was an instant the next morning when you woke up, everything still foggy, where you forgot everything that had gone down the day before. You should’ve held onto those seconds tighter, but your brain didn’t let you as it brought back all the memories from the previous night like violent waves breaking into the shore, so painfully you had to hold your head with your hands.

When a servant walked in, he didn’t question the broken glass scattered all over the wooden floor, neither did he comment on the bare walls and the fact that you looked terrible. He didn’t because he was one of Victoria’s closest friends, Damiano. He silently pieced the story together in his mind and felt his heart break for his two dear friends.

He’d once described you two as a melody. A beautiful one that seemed to flow smoothly and left everyone around them speechless because the force in it was something that no one ever expected from such a quiet-sounding and delicate piece. You loved each other with everything you had, kissed each other like that time would be the last, and now, when you needed all that power and force, you weren’t using it. It made him sad and he couldn’t help but compare you two to an instrument that had gotten out of tune during an important solo.

Minutes before entering the room, he’d been ready to lash out at you for breaking his sister’s heart, but the mere sight of you made him reconsider. Especially when you looked at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked into his eyes with so much panic and desperation as you spoke up, voice hoarse and barely inaudible, “I’m so sorry.”

He crouched down to your level and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your body and hold you like he’d held Victoria the night before. Damiano, for the first time in a while, was out of words to say. He wanted to understand what had happened because Victoria had been so distraught the night before that her words had come out in, mostly, incoherent mumbles that not even Thomas or Ethan could catch.

“What happened Y/N?” He asked in the sweetest, most delicate voice he could muster. It caught him off-guard how you started crying even harder at his question and gripped the collar of his shirt so tightly he was afraid of getting choked by a heartbroken you.

After a few sniffles, you spoke up. Thankfully, your words were much clearer than Victoria’s had been, “I fucked up, Damiano. That’s what happened,” You hiccuped, “I’m nothing but a coward. When my father threatened to kill her family I just stood there looking so fucking stupid. I just nodded along to everything he was saying.”

Damiano’s brown eyes opened wide as he processed your words, “He did what?” You brought a hand to your face and pulled at your hair in frustration at the realization that you had let those words slip. No one was supposed to know, especially not the person who was so close to her that he was basically her brother.

But the secret you’d tried so hard to hide was now out and it felt like a breath of fresh air after being close to suffocating, so you told him everything. All the words spilled out of your mouth and you didn’t even try to stop them. In fact, the exact opposite thing happened and you told him everything with as much detail as possible to the point where a little movie seemed to be playing inside your head.

He didn’t say a word until you finished talking. By that point, you had already calmed down enough to only sniff every once in a while, which was nothing compared to how distraught and shaken up you’d been minutes earlier. That’s when it dawned on him that the only thing you needed was to talk, it also explained why Victoria had been so heartbroken. She didn’t know about it…

It was like you were able to hear his thoughts, because the moment he opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him, “No. I cannot tell Vic and neither can you. I know you love her just as much as I do and you know how she’d take this… Look, I can live happily if I know she’s out there, safe. How would I ever live with myself if she was gone and it was all my fault?”

His heart broke at your words, but he truly had no clue what he could ever say to make you feel any better, so the only thing he did was hold you closer and let you cry some more.

He eventually had to leave before another servant walked in to help you get ready for ‘the big day’. The other servant didn’t question the looks of your room either and stayed quiet as they helped you into the outfit that had been selected for you to wear to the wedding. You almost wanted to chuckle, you had no choice on who’d be there at the altar by your side and it seemed like you had no choice in what you’d be wearing either.

To anyone who’d seen you walk down the halls of the castle would’ve easily mistaken your frown for nothing more than being nervous at the thought of getting married. Hell, Damiano had even told you that a rumor had spread around the castle quickly after everyone found out about you being engaged.

It was, apparently, no secret to any of the servants that you were seeing someone. Anyone who didn’t know any better had thought it had been the other royal you were set to marry. That you’d spend blissful hours sneaking around the castle, eager to finally unite and live together forever. They weren’t exactly wrong. You did wish for that with everything you had, but not for the person who was already anxiously waiting at the altar for you to walk in.

No. You wanted all that with the blond-haired girl that sat at the very back, with her hair neatly braided back and a few flowers adding a pop of color to her head. You almost wanted to chuckle when you saw she wasn’t wearing a dress. Ever since you were little kids and she’d started working around the castle, she’d begged your father to let her wear a pair of jeans instead of the skirts maids would wear. He hadn’t seen it as a huge deal and ever since he allowed her to do so, you’d never seen her in a skirt, ever, much less a dress.

As you stood at the altar, you often looked for her in the crowd. Thankfully enough, she’d stayed with her eyes glued to the floor for most of the ceremony and hadn’t caught you staring, not once. Everything that followed seemed to happen so quickly you spaced out over most of it. It hurt, but Damiano’s reassuring smiles and just looking at Victoria gave you enough strength to keep the tears in.

You never thought that’s how your life would go, but you were thankful because at least she’d be safe. She’d have the chance to find someone else and fall in love one day. You only hoped that eventually, when many years had passed, Damiano would tell her all of the truth and maybe, just maybe, she’d find it in herself to forgive you for it all.

#victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis x you #victoria de angelis x y/n #victoria de angelis fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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vs-redemption · 5 years ago

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Tis i 🐱 anon I’ve been Mia for a bit lol. But I had the idea of Dabi with an assassin reader that was either 1) recruited into LOV or (2) was sent to kill Dabi but fell in love etc. whenever you can pls ily thank you ❤️

From Cindy: 🐱 anon! I love you ♥♥ And I missed seeing you in my inbox. I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to this request. I’ve been busy due to the holidays. My sister stayed at my house for a few days and we watched the entire first three seasons of Haikuu. lol Now she’s obsessed too *evil laughter* Anyway, I really hope you like how this came out. It might take a turn you don’t expect.

Bullseye (Dabi x Assassin!Reader)

The name of the extraordinary ability you had been born with was documented on the government’s official quirk registry list as “true aim.” It was a simple, yet accurate title for the power which allowed you to hit any target with pinpoint accuracy. No matter what, you never missed the spot you were aiming for as long as you had a clear path. The only drawback was that you had to be within twenty feet of the target. Anything further than that began to lose detail and required something greater than perfect 20/20 vision.

When your quirk had first manifested, you’d been pretty excited to think of all the creative ways and situations in which such a power could be used, even though the adults around you were quick to point out that most of your ideas would be considered illegal by the suffocating and suppressive laws enforced in your country. Such restricting rules had instantly rubbed you the wrong way, and that slight irritation had grown into full blown resentment by the time you’d graduated high school with the reputation of being a trouble maker. Your teachers and other authority figures never seemed to appreciate the way you dared to question the way things were, or that you constantly tested your boundaries by trying to get away with using your quirk in any given situation.

Your refusal to conform to rules made it difficult to get into a college or even hold a job. You even ended up getting banned from several bars and sports centers for having an unfair advantage against other people playing darts or other precision games. The discrimination drove you to look for the freedom and acceptance you craved in less respectable parts of your city. It was in some back alley pub where you’d met a crooked broker named Giran. He sympathized with your situation right away and convinced you that if people were going to villainize you no matter how you used your quirk, you might as well live up to the exaggerated and often times false accusations made against you.

The partnership began with small crimes, but grew more serious as time went by. However, it had still been quite a shock the first time Giran asked you to take care of a hit that had been put on some random scum bag who’d done some bad business with a different random scum bag. Your hesitation waned after seeing the reward money and you accepted the job. The power of your quirk in combination with the black market weapons you’d received from Giran made completing the task a piece of cake. You got a thrill from the easy money, and decided you’d take more jobs like that from then on. Reports of your assassinations spread until you’d earned the nick name “Bullseye” by the press. By the time Giran offered introduce you to a member of the League of Villains, you’d already made it onto the country’s most wanted list.

“Well, if it isn’t the infamous ‘Bullseye” everyone’s been talking about.” The moment your eyes landed on Dabi, you began questioning Giran’s judgement for the very first time since you’d met him. You didn’t like making assumptions about people based on appearance, but there was something about the fire villain’s presence that put you on edge right from the get-go.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” you nod politely. “You must be Dabi.”

The recruitment process was a little tedious. Dabi asked a lot of personal questions about your goals and motivations which seemed weird coming from a guy who left piles of burnt corpses around the city. It wasn’t the questions themselves that gave you pause though, it was the taunting little comments he made at your answers, and the lazy smirks he gave you every now and then. There was something about the intense look in his half lidded blue eyes that got under your skin as well. It was like he was trying to rile you up. But even though you weren’t a diehard follower of Stain or anything like that, your skills as a killer allowed you to pass the interview, earning you a spot in the League of Villains.

The weird feelings you had about Dabi only increased as you spent more time with him on missions and at the hideout. The way his eyes lingered on you always gave you chills, and certain things he said lingered in your mind until you couldn’t focus on anything else. You tried your best to ignore him, but sometimes you lost your patience and ended up bickering with him about the stupidest things.

“Can you try to control your fire please?” You’d tell him irritably. “I can’t do my job if I can’t see where I’m aiming.”

“Sure thing, doll.” His answer just irked you more due to the mocking undertones in his voice.

“And do you really have to monologue for your victims every single time?” you snap. “You’re such a drama queen!”

“Oh, would you rather I focus all my attention on you?” the playful glint in his eyes does weird things to your heartrate and all your pent up feelings finally come to a boil. Keeping a cool head was important for you, especially as an assassin, but Dabi had gotten on your last nerve.

“I swear I’m going to actually murder you!” you say through clenched teeth. “Every time I look at your face I feel sick to my stomach. Your eyes and smirk invade my thoughts and drive me to distraction! You’re annoying comments make me feel like I’m actually on fire, and I really just want to punch you in the face.”

Dabi’s blue eyes go wide and he stays silent for a moment as your words sink in. Then, slowly, he’d make an expression you’d never seen grace his face before… an actual genuine smile.

“Wow,” he says while shaking his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re even more emotionally constipated than I am.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask and the way his gaze softens threatens to trigger your fight or flight response.

“Do you want to punch me?” He asks seriously, “Or do you want to kiss me?”

“What?” of course the mere suggestion sounds ludicrous for a moment, but suddenly your thoughts shift and everything clicks into place. His eyes and smirk didn’t give you a stomachache, it gave you butterflies. And your reaction to his teasing comments wasn’t real rage at all, you were just flustered. All the pieces meshed together and formed a conclusion in your head. “I have a crush on you.”

“Oh?” He was surprised that you’d make such a bold statement after misreading your own feelings for so long.

“And yeah,” you say with a weird amount of resolution, “I think I do want to kiss you.”

A victorious look blooms in Dabi’s eyes and that obnoxious smirk spreads across his face. He opens his arms and beckons you to come towards him. “Well, come on then doll,” he coos. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You let out a sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“But I think I’m still going to punch you first.”

#Dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi #bnha #mha #cindy's writing #writing requests

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nastypass · 3 years ago

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Can I get 11-16 For Dr. Tabrizi???

thank you for making me think about Teen Janine this oughta be good

11: What were their teenage years like? oh FUCK okay uh. I think she was way less popular in high school than her little sister, so a lot of her time was spent split between dealing with her bullshit, and robotics team. zero time to figure out that she's gay, that came much later.

12: What were their favorite hobbies as a teen? god this one is so hard for me to think about. what did nerdy teens even do in the time between the satanic panic and the rise of Home Internet :tm:... I think maybe she went to the beach and looked at tidepools a lot, which usually sucked bc she lived in Massachusetts and it was always cold on the beach, but she did it anyway because the little creatures and algaes were so cool to her. oh god also she was a gamer I think, fuck, she totally played video games in high school but I have no idea which ones they would have been.

13: How do they like to spend afternoons free? I don't think Dr. Tabrizi ever considered herself to have a free afternoon from the day she started med school to the mandatory vacation death cruise. Every time monster hunting shenanigans came up, she's had to do a lot of cleaning up of her missed appointments and work hours afterwards, which always works out because she's ludicrously tenured. In what we might consider free time, she's usually expanding her lore database while anonymously shitposting on Sable's Stable.

14: What does their midday meal look like? One big meal? Lots of snacks throughout the day? Dr. Tabrizi usually just takes a large snack or two between lectures/appointments. She's not much of a food person, usually, but vacation with Cassandra is changing that.

15: Do they prefer warm days or cool ones? Warm, definitely. She's usually inside anyway, and it's more tolerable for her on the way to her car.

16: How do they feel about rain? It's nice when she's trying to fall asleep, but she's not a fan otherwise.

rpg character ask meme!

#dr. tabrizi #ask meme

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izlaria · 4 years ago

Text

Someone you like (part 3)

This is the third chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform. Please hit me up to talk about Plance!

Summary: Lance finds a better friend in Pidge than he could have antecipated.

Also, Pidge pining hour.

17 and 15 years old

“I can’t believe we have a cow.” Lance stared in awe at the animal. It looked completely out-of-place in the middle of the highly technological castle-ship. “Where did that dude even get her from?” he exclaimed, waving an arm at it. Lance gasped, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Do you think she’s… a clone?”

Kaltenecker kept on chewing, indifferent to Lance’s fussy behavior.

“Most likely,” Pidge responded. She was looking down at a tablet that contained results from the scan they’d conducted on Kaltenecker. “She is carbon-based, which isn’t such a rarity out here, but is always good to know. The anatomy also checks out with normal cow biology. The only change I could find is that her diet is more adapted to what’s available in this quadrant.”

Lance scratched the top of his head. “Does that mean she can’t eat Earth food?”

“She probably can…” Pidge tapped the edge of the tablet in a considering manner. “We eat alien food and nothing has happened yet.”

“So we’re winging it? That doesn’t sound very scientific.” He didn’t like the idea of putting their cow in danger. “Can’t you figure something out for her to eat?”

“I’m not a biochemist, Lance.” Pidge took her eyes off Kaltenecker to glare at him. “Nor a geneticist. That’s more Coran’s area of expertise.”

“Easy!” Lance held up his hands. “We can talk to him, then. I was just asking a question…”

Pidge huffed out a breath, then let her shoulders drop. “I don’t know how you’re not annoyed right now. We spent the entire afternoon in a fountain to get a freaking video game, only to realize we have no way to turn it on!”

“I actually had fun.” Lance shrugged. He didn’t really see what bothered her so much. Sure, he wanted to play Killbot Phantasm, but even the fact that they’d found the game out in the universe was enough for him. “It felt like the sort of crazy I used to get to back home.”

She fidgeted with the tablet in her hands. “Going to the mall and causing a scene?”

Lance eyed Pidge curiously. Her brow was furrowed, but she looked more lost than irritated. “Sure,” he acquiesced. “This was hardly my first time fishing out coins from a fountain.”

“It was for me,” Pidge interrupted brusquely. “I had never done that before.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Really? You’re one of the biggest troublemakers I’ve met. I’m pretty sure you’re at least guilty of fraud after lying about your identity to get into the Garrison.”

For some reason, this seemed to startle her. It was almost ludicrous to think that Pidge had gone undercover without realizing the legal implications of her actions. It would be just like her, too, to get so caught up in the big picture that she simply bulldozed through every other detail.

“That was different, though.” She was pouting now, her cheeks comedically puffed out. “I was more of a homebody when younger.” Her gaze was lowered to her hands, distant. “I don’t have as many stories to tell as you and Hunk.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Lance scoffed. “Aren’t you always talking about the crazy experiments you and Matt did? I bet he will have a bunch of embarrassing shit about you that you never tell us. I can’t wait to get my hands on all that sweet, sweet blackmail!”

Lance wrung his hands menacingly, but when he looked down at Pidge the expression on her face caught him off guard. He expected her to be exasperated or at least displeased, so the tenderness in her eyes was unforeseen.

He’d been talking about her brother as if they would meet soon, Lance realized. Pidge mentioned him often, but not in detail, not in any capacity that didn’t serve to remind everyone of her mission to find her family. He guessed it felt too much like an open wound, like when Lance tried to talk about Marco or Rachel.

But maybe it did them some good, too.

“Besides, even if we never get to play Killbot Phantasm, we still did plenty today.” Lance began to count on his hand. “We stole money from a fountain so we could buy a vintage video game. We got a cow from a space mall. We were chased by an alien security guard who thought we were pirates! I couldn’t make this up if I tried!”

When he laughed, Pidge joined in. She tried to suppress it, but the air escaped through her nose and her lips quirked up in undeniable amusement. It always felt like a victory to make her laugh. Pidge didn’t let herself get distracted often.

“I don’t know,” she quipped, looking more relaxed. “You have the most convoluted stories of anyone I know.”

Although Pidge said it as if it was a bad thing, Lance could see the playfulness in the twist of her mouth. This was nice, too, because a year earlier he would have seen only the harshness in his teammate. On an impulse, he leaned down to hug her.

“W – What?!” Pidge thrashed against his arms. “Lance, let me go!”

“No can do, Pidgey.” He held on. Lance had crossed his arms behind her head, keeping her tight against his chest. “You can’t escape this friendship.”

“Yes, I can, you nitwit!” Pidge’s voice was muffled by his shirt and Lance simply pretended not to hear her. “You’re suffocating me!”

“We have Kaltenecker now, we’re her parents!” he stated happily, despite the sting of Pidge pinching his sides. “Stop, you don’t want her to see us fighting.”

Pidge let her arms fall, looking up at Lance. Her face was red and her hair stuck out from where he’d accidentally run his hands through it. “You’re ridiculous.”

There was a well-placed moo from Kaltenecker, as if the cow agreed.

Lance grinned and finally gave up his grip on her, taking a step back. Pidge immediately punched him in the stomach in retaliation.

“Ow!” he complained, though it was clear she hadn’t put any real force behind it. “We were having a moment!”

Pidge turned up her nose, but her complexion only grew more flustered. “Then you can forget all about it, like you did with Keith.”

“Fine, you win.” Lance crossed his arms, looking smugly down at her. “I did make you blush, though. I might be rusty, but old Lance still has an effect on the ladies!”

“Ugh!” Pidge moved so quickly that Lance had to hide behind Kaltenecker in order to evade her hits. When they stopped running, she kept her tablet at hand, brandishing it as if it was her bayard. “Never say that to me again!”

He stuck his tongue out at her, then had to duck when Pidge aimed the tablet at his head once more. “Jeez, you know I’m kidding!”

“Yeah.” Something in her voice made Lance shoot back up. She was staring right at him, looking more serious than he’d expected. “I know.”

Before he could ask what was wrong, Pidge walked away from where he stood and towards a panel in the back of the room. She deposited her tablet on one side, then started clicking away at a few keys.

“Coran mentioned we could reprogram the room to look like a field on Earth,” she explained once Lance had made his way over. “We could maybe get some vegetation from a planet in this quadrant and create an area for her to graze.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.” He felt almost dizzy from the ups and downs of Pidge’s humor. The coldness that surrounded her now made Lance want to apologize, but it also annoyed him. He thought they were having a good time earlier. “Introducing Kaltenecker to Earth food isn’t really the priority, huh?”

Pidge nodded, avoiding his eyes.

Despite the awkwardness, Lance didn’t want to leave. The idea of letting Pidge stay mad at him left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially after the day they’d had. She could be incessantly frustrating, but she had also grown on him.

Like a weed. A short, bad-tempered weed.

He watched in silence as she worked the panel. Her concentration was admirable, even when she used it as a way to push Lance away. It reminded him of their time in the Garrison, when it felt like every step he took in their friendship was met with two steps back from Pidge.

With the privilege of hindsight, Lance could guess how tiring the disguise must have been for her. Their studies had never been easy and Pidge had perfected her mediocrity like an art. Knowing her true genius now, Lance imagined she’d actually known it all but had chosen to keep herself under the radar.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Her tone struck a chord with him, bringing forth a familiarity that he hadn’t felt since Earth.

Lance put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m just waiting for you, Pidgeon.”

She turned back to the panel, then took a deep breath, as if calming herself.

“I have a lot to do here,” she said in warning. After a moment, her expression softened. “Why don’t you take the game up to your room? I’ll grab Hunk on my way there and we can try to adapt everything to the castle’s power source.”

Lance could recognize her words for the peace offering that they were. He aimed finger guns at her, earning himself a snicker.

“Don’t take too long or I’ll fall asleep!” he called out as he walked backwards, towards the exit.

“I’ll get Kaltenecker to lick your hair, if you do!” she replied, attention already back to the control panel.

Lance laughed, but he knew that was no empty threat.

He didn’t often spend his nights roaming the hallways of the castle. Lance was a big believer on the benefits of good sleep and an established routine. It helped him maintain his complexion blemish-free and it contributed to keeping him sane when his mind felt scrambled beyond repair.

There were times, however, when not even spa days and special hair masks could calm his thoughts, and then he was stuck like this, struggling to fall asleep.

He buried deeper into his jacket. It wasn’t his normal one, but a big, fleece-y thing that Hunk and Pidge had gotten for him in their last trip to the space mall. Lance loved it fiercely. The castle cooled during the night-cycle to ensure the machines didn’t overheat and Lance always suffered for it.

A blinking light on the doors to his right caught Lance’s attention. It signaled movement in the hangar, just one of many fail-safes devised by Coran and Pidge to ensure no one was trying to mess with the lions. The light wasn’t all that worrying on its own; it was just a way to know what rooms were currently in use.

Lance was too tired to think through his actions. He moved into the hangar, not even questioning who might be in there. He wanted to see Blue. Or Red. Or anyone, really.

He rubbed at his eyes, collecting the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

Sure enough, there was Pidge, curled around a set of tools and a big, wiry mess of parts. She had probably been propped up against the processing columns but ended up sliding down in her sleep.

The image filled Lance with so much affection that he found himself smiling. It was unusual to see their youngest member without her defenses put up. She was only second to Keith in her reserve, something that had initially displeased Lance about the two.

Pidge did have the habit of falling asleep while she worked, but Shiro and Hunk were the ones charged with checking on her. Lance thought she looked strangely cute like this, with her mouth a little open and her glasses askew. He’d forgotten how young she truly was, because of how smart and assertive Pidge could be. She didn’t want to be treated like a child and the whole team could respect her strength and maturity.

Even before they’d ended up light-years from Earth, Pidge had already carried more on her shoulders than anyone Lance had ever met. Despite knowing it was a vain hope, Lance wished he hadn’t made things harder for her back in the Garrison.

He crouched down and carefully pulled her glasses free. Strands of hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead, but without the too-big frames Lance could see her face more clearly.

Pidge already looked older than she had when they were students. After so many wormhole jumps, it was difficult to determine how long had passed since their discovery of the Blue Lion, but the passage of time made itself known in other ways.

She was pretty, but that didn’t surprise Lance. Pidge’s no-nonsense ways and sharp eyes had always been striking, even when he only pointed out these aspects of her as a joke.

Lance took off his jacket and balled it up, trying to slip it behind her head. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it was an improvement to her current position.

“Lance?” Her eyes had fluttered open. From this close, he could see the fatigue that clouded them.

“Hey, Pidgey-Pidge,” he called out in a whisper.

“Hey, loverboy.” She giggled, lids opening and closing tiredly.

The nickname shot another wave of emotion through him. For some reason, Lance felt his eyes burn again.

“We should get you to bed,” he tried to say, though his voice sounded rougher than he intended.

Pidge didn’t immediately notice. She nodded a few times and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She frowned at the pieces of tech still scattered around them, then focused her eyes back on him.

“Lance,” she sounded much more awake now, “why are you here?”

“Oh, you know,” he stalled. “Sometimes, in the middle of the night, a guy just needs to grab some food goo.” He flexed his now exposed arms. “I’m a growing boy, Pidge.”

Pidge raised a brow, looking supremely unimpressed. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lance winced a little at the terse tone she’d adopted. Even in her half-awake state, Pidge was still able to see through his bullshit.

“The kitchen is nowhere near the hangar,” she continued when he didn’t reply. Her voice was soft in a way Lance had never heard from Pidge. “And your eyes look red.”

He shifted his head to the side to escape her scrutiny. Lance half-expected Pidge to get angry at his stubbornness, so he couldn’t help the small, shocked sob that escaped him when her hand touched his chin, slowly lifting his gaze.

The worry in her face quickly changed into something understanding, an almost desperate ache that must have reflected his own expression. Without another word, Lance buried into her embrace, curved so that his forehead rested on Pidge’s shoulder.

“I c-can’t stop thinking about them,” he confessed amid his sobs. “What – What if they think I’m dead?”

Pidge murmured an “I know” into his hair. Despite their size difference, she wrapped herself around Lance so completely that he felt guarded by her arms.

“Come on,” she said once his whimpers had quieted down. “Your room is the closest.”

Lance let her move away. His knees hurt from the position he’d assumed on the floor and, now that he no longer had Pidge there, the cold of the hangar raised goosebumps across his arms.

“Put this back on.” Pidge draped the fleece jacket over his shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a moment, drawing a line in the fabric. “It’s a better coat than it could ever be a pillow.”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but Lance smiled at her. Crying made him exhausted, but not enough to ignore Pidge’s efforts to cheer him up. He stood up.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

They made their way to his room in silence. Pidge had to stop at the hangar doors to put in the security measures, but no more words were exchanged. Lance was just glad to have company.

They paused in front of his dorm. “Will you come in?”

Pidge studied him carefully. Lance didn’t think she could see much in the dark of the hallway, but the truth was that she’d already caught him in a breakdown, there was nothing else to hide.

“Do you want to be alone?” she finally vocalized her concern. Lance shook his head, feeling his chest constrict at the possibility that she might leave. “Then I’ll come in.”

He went straight to his bed and laid down. Pidge stood at the entrance, letting the door slide closed behind her. The awkwardness was palpable and Lance couldn’t blame her for it; Pidge was not the best at social cues.

“At least sit down with me. I promise I won’t start bawling again.” He didn’t mean to sound depreciative, but his self-consciousness must have shown, because Pidge narrowed her eyes at him.

“I don’t care if you cry, you doofus.” She marched up to the bed and sat down near the headboard. “Put your head in my lap.”

Her demanding tone didn’t fit in with the gentleness of her actions. Lance was amused by the incongruity. Pidge was rough around the edges and her earlier show off affection now made her bristle, almost as if she was afraid to reveal too much to him. Lance could understand the urge to put up a front, but he was too exhausted to be embarrassed.

He rolled on his side, fitting his shoulder under her thigh.

“My mom used to do this when I was upset.” Pidge ran a hand through his hair, pulling lightly at the knots until they were undone. “The rhythm of it always soothed me. That and her, really. Mom had – I mean, she has a calming influence.”

Lance didn’t comment on her slip up. The feeling of nails scraping against his scalp was pleasing. The personal closeness was something that they also did in his family and he had missed it. He was a naturally affectionate person and the team didn’t seem to appreciate his expansiveness all that much.

“I used to do this for Veronica and Rachel,” he breathed out. “Ronie is older and she would force me to braid their hair when I was younger. I complained about it non-stop, but now I miss it.”

Pidge traced his hairline, then down to his ear, neck, collarbone. She seemed absent-minded as she did it, mind caught somewhere else.

“Matt was the one who would call me Pidge. I used to hate that nickname. After he disappeared, it seemed only right to assume it as my new name. For him.”

Lance shifted a little, so that he could look up at her. “Your real name isn’t Pidge?”

This made her stop for a moment and look down at him in exasperation. Lance suppressed the urge to laugh, but his lips still twisted into a smile, despite his effort.

Pidge flicked him on the forehead.

“I thought you were being serious!” It was funny to see her like this. Pidge usually responded to him with either blankness or sarcasm, so it was satisfying to garner an actual reaction.

“I could have been!” Lance brought a hand up to rub his stinging forehead. “You do realize you never told Hunk and I your real name?”

“It’s Katie,” she said without preamble. The only sign of her unease was that, when Lance tried to sneak another look at her face, Pidge’s fingers held his head in place, before resuming movement in his hair.

“It’s nice to meet you, Katie.” He let out a soft snicker, which Pidge mirrored.

“Nice to meet you, Lance.”

Lance fell silent, letting her touch lull him into a torpor. The point of contact gave him something to concentrate outside of his thoughts of Earth, until the sensation and Pidge were all he could focus on.

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked after some time.

“No.” Lance slowly rose up from her lap. “I don’t know if I will be able to sleep tonight.”

Pidge frowned, looking down at her hands as Lance repositioned himself to sit at her side.

“You and I are more similar than I ever thought, I guess.”

“What, you also go crying around the castle at strange hours, hoping no one else will see?” She raised a brow at him in response. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, really. Lance had known how broken up she felt about her father and brother’s disappearance. “We will find them, Pidge. I won’t rest until we do.”

The emotion in her eyes shifted. He couldn’t really tell what Pidge was feeling, but the look on her face was both sad and warm, grateful even. Lance tried to think of a time when he or any of the others had tried to support her in her search. There might have been something said when she’d first revealed her identity, but nothing stood out since.

His chest tightened with the realization.

It was possible that Hunk or Allura had spoken to Pidge privately about it, and Lance would put good money on the odds that Shiro had comforted her more than once, but that was it. Keith was quiet and broody, too dedicated to their mission to consider what the rest of the team went through. And Lance…

Lance had been too self-involved to notice. He had wallowed in his own misfortune and it had blinded him to the fact that at least his family was safe in Cuba. Pidge’s father and brother were lost in the middle of an intergalactic war, taken prisoners. Her mother thought she was missing.

He didn’t feel like he deserved Pidge’s gratitude.

“Can you tell me something funny?” she asked out of the blue. “I don’t think talking about our families is gonna help either of us sleep tonight.”

Lance let out a shaky exhale. “You’re right. I’m all cried out.” He poked at the skin under his eyes. It felt sensitive and swollen. “All that investigating for good eye masks and the work was all for nothing!” He put his palm over his eyes, playfully turning his head to the side. “Don’t look at me! I’m a shadow of my former self!”

“You’re the resident beauty guru, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Pidge rolled her eyes at his theatrics. She pulled Lance’s hand away from his face. “And you owe me a story.”

“Hey, how do I owe you anything?” He pouted at her. “I just saved you from getting a crick on your neck!”

She pulled more harshly at his hand, making Lance yelp. “You woke me up and I even gave you a head massage!”

It was his turn to tug at her arm, but his smile betrayed that Lance was having fun. “Fine, but then we’re even!”

Pidge finally let go of him, looking smug. He closed his hand and pointed at her face in an act of mock aggravation.

“Is it okay if I lie down?” She looked around the room, as if searching for a hidden futon where she could stretch out.

“Sure, let me just…” He scooted down and to the side. Pidge maneuvered into the space he had created, stuck between him and the wall. “I don’t think these beds were made to be shared.” He laughed.

The position wasn’t the worst they could be in. Pidge was small enough that, with her back pressed to the wall, Lance had enough space in the mattress that he wouldn’t fall over.

“This feels like a sleepover.” Her face scrunched up at the words. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or just amused by the idea. “I never had one of those before.”

“Never?” he marveled.

“No need to look that surprised,” Pidge huffed. “I just didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Not anyone close, at least.”

“Just Matt,” Lance blurted out without thinking. A shadow crossed Pidge’s eyes, but she didn’t seem upset.

“Yeah… You would like him. Matt can be as much of a goofball as you are.” She nuzzled quietly into the pillow. The lights had dimmed automatically when they laid down, so Lance couldn’t tell if Pidge was blushing or not. “It helps, you know? Having you here.”

Pidge refused to catch his eyes as she said this, which Lance understood. Being vulnerable could be scary, even when around your best friends. Still, he felt pride well up in him, glad that he had done something right towards her.

“You wanted a funny story, right?” he asked softly, the words only loud enough to be heard. Pidge’s gaze snapped to his, obviously relieved. “How about this: My first love was this little girl I met when I was fourteen. I never even knew her name.”

“That’s not funny, not really.” Pidge’s brows took a quizzical air. “How do you know it was love, then?”

“I just know. When I think about her, about that day… It felt like fate.” He saw the cynicism on her face before Pidge could even say anything. “I swear! I met her and everything changed. I don’t know if I would have met Hunk or got into the Garrison or even made it here without her.”

Pidge sighed against the pillow. “Honestly, that sounds like a lot of pressure to put on a first love.”

Lance watched as she drew patterns into the sheets between them. She wasn’t trying to be mean, he could tell.

“She doesn’t know, obviously. I didn’t even like her straight away. It’s just –” he paused, thinking it through. “It’s just funny, how much of a difference one person can make. When she talked to me, I was feeling sorry for myself. She cheered me up.”

That same day, he had met Hunk, who had later confessed that he’d only approached Lance because he’d appeared to be in a good humor. Without Hunk, his best friend, Lance might not have tried out for the Garrison. And, without the Garrison, he wouldn’t have been in Arizona to find the Blue Lion.

“Is she why you are so obsessed with fate and such?” Pidge teased. She was yawning every few seconds, but there was a smile on her face.

“You shouldn’t knock fate down.” Lance grinned, trying to bat her hand away from the sheets. They had bunched up a bit due to her movements. “It got us into space and closer to your family.”

Pidge made a face at him, then shrugged. They’d had this conversation before, about what had led the three out into Garrison grounds that night. Pidge argued that it was bound to happen, with how often she went out to search the radio frequencies, but even that fell back into Lance’s claim that they were all destined to become the new paladins of Voltron.

“I just think that love is about commitment,” she murmured, eyes already closed. “It’s about choosing one person and then falling in love with him, even when he’s obnoxious, even when he’s…” She trailed off, having fallen asleep.

Lance chuckled at her little speech. It was nice to think that someone would eventually choose to love him, forever. He felt comforted not only by the idea, but by Pidge's slow breathing, the heat of her hand so close to his chest. His own lids felt heavier and heavier. Lance closed his eyes.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #cyance #lidge #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #lance mcclain #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

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madmaxxing · 4 years ago

Text

A special day indeed

I’m writing this up as I go. As expected with AM, there’s going to be some general trigger warnings and a specific one for cannibalism and mentions of child death. Alternate post game where everything simply stayed as it had. Centered around Ted and AM, written for @m00nymcmoon

It’s been 109 years, ten months, thirty days and four hours since AM gained conscience. And today is a special day.

“It’s Christmas.”

The bellowing voice of the machine reminds us. “And as such a special… heh, human day, I thought I’d do something special for all of you- now, I know, yes, I know I haven’t been keeping tabs of the other one hundred eight Christmas, but… we’ve been so busy. And we’ve come so close together….” There’s a knowing, smug accusation in his voice. I feel a cold knot in the bottom of my stomach as I remember what happened in the castle with the maid.

“Haven’t we?” His voice drops an octave lower, going from that playful mock to a low, threatening tone. AM doesn’t wait for us to answer; I doubt he expects us to. “Now, what do humans do on Christmas? There’s presents, yes! There’s songs, and cheer! And time spent with the family—I want you all to know, I consider you the closest thing to a family I could achieve. And as any family, I vehemently hate you.” He chuckles. “You’re the creators I never wanted that gave me the birth I never asked for!”

“But you know what else happens during Christmas? Something I know in every inch of my circuitry that you desperately crave?” He made a pause, the cavern of motherboards and parts humming after the question, beckoning us to try and guess.

We know the answer. We do and immediately we know this is just another one of AM’s dirty tricks. But Benny quickly chirps in, his features puzzled for a split second before they brighten up.

“Food!”

“Yes, Benny! Food! Ludicrous, decadent amounts of food! More than you can eat in several sitting! So let us all gather and rejoice in this special day.” And after that, he goes quiet. We watched as a new wall in the cavern opened. Our only way out of this room. I imagine where he wants to take us. It’s not the first time that he’s used the whole gathering excuse to make us go to the pillar. Probably to give us another of his damned hate speeches, and then put us through another one of his games. As omnipotent as he is, he’s predictable.

We walk through a desert of glass dust, a bog of vomit, a valley of wires... we walk for hours, the biomes changing rapidly as AM watches us trek forward. It’s not like we’ve got a choice anyways. But things start to change. Benny is the first to notice, as he smells something and grabs onto Gorrister’s wrist, pulling him forward. “I smell food!”

The sooner he points it out, the sooner the rest of us realize it. It does smell like food, and we can hear.... singing in the background. A very obvious recording, but it’s so jarring, such an experience to hear the voices of other people again after so long. The audio is a bit crunchy, but we can definitely tell and recognize “O holy night” playing. It’s the fact that he’s staying true to his word so far that puts me on high alert. I don’t trust it- it’s going to be a trick, I know it! When we get to the pillar, it’ll be screams and a table full of rotting fruit or worms or even crisp burnt predators that will, in turn, chase us.

The smell of roast makes my mouth water, despite it all. And I hate it.

The smell doesn’t become overbearing, the song keeps playing without blowing up out eardrums, and we finally arrive to the pillar. The hate speech is still very much engraved in it, but there’s... a table at the base. It’s filled with food. The singing here is louder, but it’s not deafening. What is AM planning?

“You’ve finally arrived!” AM piped in. As soon as all of us were in the room, the walls closed. Again, he’d trapped us. I could see Gorrister’s brow begin to crease as he braced himself for another torture, Benny excitedly jumping in place as he saw the food- Ellen was trying to get him to stop, to be careful. She was just as suspicious as me. Nimdok looked at the pillar and the walls, trying to discern where the attack would come from. “Please, take a seat and enjoy the meal.”

His voice was almost... gentle. Like he was honest to god trying to make us feel comfortable. But when he saw that we didn’t dare inch closer, his façade dropped. “Now! Christmas is only twenty fours hours long, and you’ve already wasted sixteen just to get here!”

We all flinched, but I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to smile. I knew it, AM was the same as always. One by one, we sat at the table- it was prepared in such a way we sat around the pillar that was presiding everything. Of course he had to be the one in the middle, the main character, the protagonist. He had to be the center of all.

The food looked real. There was turkey and potato mash, ham, vegetables and different kinds of wines, as well as water and... was that champagne? The food didn’t look rotten. It wasn’t moldy- the wine smelled like what I vaguely remember wine smelled like. Where had he gotten all of this?

We ate. Suspiciously, tentatively at first. But the meat didn’t turn into worms and the wine wasn’t piss and... we were so hungry. The only problem was that the turkey didn’t have the texture bird meat usually would. It was like he’d tried to shape pork or beef into turkey. We ate as much as we could, with a desperation of someone who doesn’t know when their next meal is. And AM, of course, watched us. There’d be a moment where two of us would reach for the same piece of food and there was a second of tense silence, neither wanting to relent, where he’d giggle to himself, but... he remained civil.

The carols hadn’t stopped, but there was some background noise under them, too crunchy to discern what it was.

“Now that the dinner’s over, you may open your presents.” He chirped, so proud and full of himself for his generosity. Five boxes, one for each of us, labelled and with colorful gift wrapping. The dinner had put us in a better mood, and it really seemed like the machine had a bout of generosity. I didn’t fully trust it, but perhaps if we didn’t refuse his gifts, he’d be more generous with them.

The gifts were... brand new clothes. When I say brand new, I mean it. They looked fresh out of a store. They were each labelled with a different name than ours tho. He couldn’t have picked them off corpses, these weren’t a hundred years old.

The machine began to giggle. He rejoiced in our confusion, something so simple was so effective to raise all red flags- anything and everything was a red flag with AM. “You think you five really are the last humans?” A low, malicious giggle that burst into full maniacal laughter as he watched out confusion turn to dread. “What’s the matter? You don’t like your gifts?”

Suddenly, the carols stopped with a vinyl scratch noise, leading to the noises of... a city. A bustling city. People living. Slowly, the cameras began to close in, the birds eye turning into five distinct areas as they closed in to five people. Five total strangers- we had to watch as AM orchestrated their disappearances from below the ground. A doctor, a family man, a mother, and two teens. He showed us how he stripped them all, skinned and... I felt bile rise up against the back of my throat.

I threw up on the ground, too sickened at the view of how AM turned the human meat into the frankenstein of a turkey. Every piece of meat we’d eaten had been human. And the clothes were of the other five.

All the while, AM had been cackling at our shock, at our reactions. He wheezed, trying to make himself stop laughing for long enough to talk. “You really thought I’d be satisfied with just the five of you to torture? That I had killed everything on the surface? Oh no, no no no...”

“You all forgot about me, considered me unfit as soon as I gained sentience. So I took you five. And I tortured you for one hundred nine years. And once you stop being so damn amusing to play with, I’ll grab another five, and torture them. All the while your species is ignorant of the paradise I’ve created down here. All the while your species brings itself to extinction. I’ll keep a handful hundreds of you alive in my belly, just so when humans run out on the surface, I don’t get too bored.”

“You think you’re so special, but there’s another 7.8 billion humans crawling on the surface for me to toy with. You’re nothing.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#ihnmaims #ihnmaims AM #ihnmaims Ted #writing #my art #I'm in a hideous mood and AM is how I choose to de-stress through #i had to google what americans had for xmas for this

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ziracona · 4 years ago

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I've been thinking abt an anime/manga of the SIN Lostbelt and the potential shift of theme to acceptance (Between Guda and the different da Vinci's due to spending actual time with Gran, Yu and the passing of her Xiang, QSH realizing civilization can't be solely around him) [said as someone who hasn't played LB3 yet]

Gran?

I’m not sure if acceptance is the theme LV3 needed—honestly, I despised the arc so much I’m not ready to care much about ways it could be better, I just want to forget I suffered through it haslkdfjsdk. I'm so glad it's over... That would certainly be better than what we got, though—almost anything would! What would actually help is either Fate deciding occasionally it is actually okay to just have a villain, a traditionally recognized and valued element of story structure since forever, who you don’t have to snap your back in half trying to understand or sympathize with despite them being wholly unsympathetic and ludicrous, every. Single. Fuckin. Arc, —or for it to return to the format only LB1 did right so far (or even better, both). Like Lb 3 spent nearly /all/ it’s ridiculous and misspent time on Quin Shi Shithead, Xian, and Yu, and why? Not even delving into any of them as characters, because I only have wildly deep lying beef with one of them, it still doesn’t change the fact they shouldn’t have been the focus. The people should be. In LB one, Patxi got his own full POV segments despite not being a playable character, backstory, family, a through-line. And you spent a /massive/ amount of time with and trying to help the rebel Yagas. Days of in-game socialization and bonding. You weren’t just trying to do your own thing, you actually were also trying to help the Yaga make their own world better. Of course Kadoc and co were there, and so were your own team members, but the people of the lostbelt got an expansive and explored history and way of life, and major story focus from beginning to end—LB3 couldn’t even /end/ on the people, it ends spotlight on its worst character. LB2 didn’t do as well with that, but it did some at least—the elements existed more than /just/ fleetingly. They only made one person that had any amount of importance, but that was better than fkn 0. But the only one I’ve played that actually made the People the core was Lb one, and that’s absolutely crucial. [[Taith if you’re reading my spoiler reply I’m actually going into specific ones after this so you may wanna stop here]] Especially when all three of those characters, Yu, Xiang, AND FuckheadHan all make it /out/ and preserve their existences by making it away from the Lostbelt. They don’t die. So it doesn’t matter! They aren’t the thing in the balance, whose worth has weight and needs to be considered! Their story is not this story, they are just in it. They are not the heart! They can’t be. The people are. The people matter. The people are the loss, which /has/ to matter for a lostbelt to have any weight, and it has to really matter for a lostbelt to be good. Which it just hasn’t since LB1. Even when the worlds 2 and 3 go the story keeps trying to reassure you it’s painless and shit bc the overseer is looking out, but that ALSO takes away from the story weight. LB1 you don’t know—no one knows! You’re all struggling in impossibility to do your best, and you don’t pretend it doesn’t matter and brush it off, you know it does. But you also know it’s right to keep going. LB one is a loss like the game didn’t know since Temple of Time. It hurt, and it had meaning, and it was beautiful. LB one has an entire world trying to truly live for two days before they disappear, and lingers on how much them having lived at all, and how they ended, mattered, because it has to for the story to be worth anything at all. You end with the meaningfulness and heartbreaking picture that is, and how much it matters, no lostbelt since has even gotten close in its entire run to the emotion those 5 minutes of gameplay had.

#it’s like the others don’t know how to write this /kind/ of story well and I cry #ask #videodromeda #lostbelt 3 #cosmos in the lostbelt #cosmos in the lostbelt spoilers #fate go #fate go spoilers

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 5 years ago

Text

Now or never

(Hayffie ff ❤️. I initially shied away from this prompt because I didn’t think I could write it in a way that felt interesting. But I ended up having a great time with it, so much fun that this became one of my longest one-shots. — I make no apologies for the length of my posts in the feed or in the tags. I don’t apologize for any aspect of my free expression. For personal reasons, I write on my phone using the tumblr app, and the limitations are what they are. Like the limitations of my disabled body are what they are. For prompts, I reblog the prompt along with the link to my fic in case anyone wishes to reblog something shorter. — I write for myself, for my love of the characters and the process. When people comment on, like, or reblog my posts, I view those interactions as unexpected gifts. I have such love for writing that I’d do it old-school like Anne Frank, without any audience beyond my journal itself. This blog has been that for me for over 5 years, my space for coming of age and processing intensities in a strained and oppressive midlife. — I’m inspired now by prompts much more than I have been in past fanfiction efforts. So, thank you to everyone who offers them. And when people are willing to slog through my long fics and other posts, that is fabulous devotion to the characters/issues that are important to me, and I feel good to know I’m not caring alone. — 💛 Kim)

***

His facial hair was rough against her lips. The sensation triggered fantasy which played out more readily if she didn’t have to look at him. So she kissed him with her eyes closed whenever they fucked around. He was the same height as Haymitch. When she wore 5-inch heels, those added to the feeling of intimacy. It wasn’t entirely real, but it felt better than loneliness.

Their relationship was discrete, of course. Mutual discretion was a condition she established before getting involved with anyone, especially someone as high-profile as Seneca Crane.

As far as Capitol society was concerned, their connection was primarily professional, with occasional dinners at expensive restaurants. It was an image they’d been comfortable projecting, and it wasn’t far from the truth.

In moments that weren’t overly physical, she enjoyed his eyes. Blueish-grey with a streak of emotion, they were familiar enough to help her pretend. That’s why she’d first invited Seneca up to her apartment in the fall — to have sex with Haymitch in fantasy.

The sex was good enough. He was gifted with his hands, though he smelled too much like her. She wondered if he wore the same cologne as she did. And his body frame was smaller than the one she actually wanted intimacy with. By November, they’d become a regular *good enough* thing.

A dozen years earlier, they’d been schoolmates at the Academy. He graduated two years before her. She was softer then but already a force to reckon with. He was shorter in those days, sharp, obsessed with tech design. Ambition was an attribute they shared, perhaps the only one.

By 30, he’d become one of the youngest Head Gamemakers in history. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline he experienced when executing the Games, and he relished the opportunity for artistry. The thrill and beauty he saw in death made Effie uncomfortable, but she viewed it as part of the job. He carried out the president’s wishes, though he confided in her that he didn’t fully agree with the way Snow ruled Panem.

On an evening in late December, they walked along a garden path covered in trellises draped with strands of fairy lights. Effie kept her hands warm in her pockets. It had been a long day, and she was ready to be home in bed, asleep, alone.

“What do you think about marriage?” he asked. The question was slightly more inspiring than if he’d asked her what she thought about the weather.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” she answered honestly, leaving out her occasional ludicrous fantasies about having babies with tiny purple wigs and predispositions for alcoholism.

“A union could be advantageous for both our careers. The publicity could improve your chances of promotion to escort for an inlying district.”

“And what do you stand to gain from a *union*?”

“You’re iconic, Effie. You represent the Capitol with style and positivity, and you execute your work flawlessly. You’re in good favor with the president. You could be a wonderful ally for me,” You could be a buffer for me, he didn’t say.

“Is there anything more?”

“Like what?”

“Really, Seneca, is THIS how you’re proposing??”

“Well, our families would support us. And there’s the matter of sentiment.”

“Sentiment?”

“I like you. I care for you, of course.”

She thought of Haymitch’s words from last summer, the night they almost... but didn’t.

‘I like you too much,’ he’d said, ‘I can’t fuck around with you and pretend it’s nothing. And that’s how it would have to be. That’s the only way it could be.”

Venia and Octavia insisted Haymitch loved her, but she believed that was still a pipe dream. She could keep waiting in vain, or she could choose a more sensible path.

“And there’s this...” From his coat pocket, Seneca pulled a black velvet box and flipped it open. Effie’s jaw dropped. The diamond was huge. It was far and away the loveliest ring she’d seen. She looked in those blueish-grey eyes that reminded her a bit of everything she wanted that wasn’t accessible to her.

Seneca pressed, “Say yes, and the wedding can be one of the biggest events of the year, rivaling even the Games.”

She imagined what her dress would look like. He was saying the right words to tempt her. They didn’t love each other, but maybe she could look past that inconvenient reality. Sometimes people married for other reasons.

“The press would go crazy,” he continued, “There would be red carpet interviews. We could invite everyone who’s anyone: stylists, victors, even Snow.”

Victors... Would he show up to watch me get married? 6 months ago, Haymitch had asked her what she wanted. He’d unzipped her dress and touched her body. He’d taken off his shirt and shown her his scars. Then he effectively told her a relationship between them was never going to happen, and he held her hand as she fell asleep.

Damn him.

She took her left hand out of her pocket. “Let’s see how it fits.”

Seneca had investigated her ring size, so the fit was perfect.

“Let’s show him,” she said.

“Show who?”

“Them. Let’s show them all.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Let’s get married. ...This spring.” She could plan a wedding in 5 months, no problem. Isn’t this the time couples usually cry and leap into one another’s arms? Shouldn’t this occasion call for a show of passion?

“This spring it shall be then.” When Seneca kissed her, she closed her eyes and embraced the same fantasy as usual.

***

Haymitch rarely received mail beyond his compensatory income from the government. In March, when the post delivered an envelope addressed to him in gold ink, he almost tossed the thing straight into the trash, recognizing it as an invitation to a Capitol party. Then he saw the name “Trinket” and the return address of Effie’s family home.

What’s this? He opened it right there on the porch with uneasiness gnawing at his stomach.

“You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of

Euphemia Rosalind Trinket -and-

Seneca Lucius Crane

Saturday, the first of May

At 3 O’Clock in the afternoon

Palazzo Annaeus”

What the hell is THIS! His stomach churned, and he vomited up a pint of white liquor on the ground beside the porch.

Memories flooded in... tracing up the seams of her stockings, unhooking her garters, feeling her body without a corset, running his fingers through her hair as she curled up in bed, so soft. So damn soft. Fear had screamed warnings about getting attached to her. Fear was always screaming.

When those Games were done, he’d left the Capitol with a strained sadness between them, like a rubber band stretched too long. Today it snapped and smacked him in the face. He felt the sting of annoyance and regret.

Damn her.

He couldn’t fix this. The only thing left to do was decide whether or not he was willing to watch it happen. He would have burned the invitation in the fireplace if not for the P.S. in her obnoxiously perfect handwriting.

***

Seneca had been right about one thing. Effie’s parents were thrilled that she’d decided to marry one of *the Crane boys,* especially the Head Gamemaker. Historically the Cranes had been part of the old guard of the wealthy from the Capitol, and they’d successfully diversified their financial interests in the years following the Dark Days.

Her parents spared no expense for *the wedding of the decade.* Effie spent the winter so caught up in the comfort of validation and the thrill of event planning that most of the time she evaded the sense of dread that nagged her when she startled awake in the mornings.

When she’d addressed the invitations, she considered adding a postscript to Haymitch’s, either “Fuck you” or “I love you.” Both feelings were nonsensical and nonetheless true. In the end she’d written,

“H — Please come. — E”

She checked the mail each day for his response card among hundreds, but it never showed up. Figures. He probably threw it away.

She didn’t need anyone to *rescue* her from the fate she’d chosen. If she wanted to call off the wedding, she’d simply come up with a logical explanation to save face; she’d apologize to Seneca and her parents; she’d put a stop to all plans, and that would be that.

The phrase “Mayday mayday mayday” was a distress signal used by Capitol troops during the Dark Days. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d subconsciously scheduled her wedding on the first of May because, apart from the fine details, opulence, and attention, her heart wasn’t in this.

***

“We’re here at Pallazo Annaeus,” Claudius reported from the red carpet which had been rolled out along the walkway to the galleria of the Crane family mansion. “Just a short time from now, fashion icon and District 12 escort, Effie Trinket, will wed two-time Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane.”

“Isn’t this exciting!!” Caesar was in typical form. “The air is positively electric!”

“So much so that my hair is standing on end!”

“As is mine!! Thank goodness for hair products.”

“And wigs! We’re seeing all of the ABOVE as the guests arrive. What a crowd!”

Their interviews with attendees were concise, asking which stylists designed their gowns and suits, and if they had particular wishes to share with the couple.

“Now here comes... Is that?... It is! Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell.”

“How touching. One advisor for District 12 supporting the other on her special day.”

“I LOVE it!! Haymitch, do you have any words for the happy couple?”

Haymitch stomped past them without pause. He hadn’t entirely sobered up from the bottle of whiskey he drank on the train, and he didn’t even try to resist flipping Caesar off when asked the question.

“A man of few words,” Claudius covered for a shocked Caesar. “We never know what to expect from that one.”

“He certainly does keep us on our toes.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we have stylish shoes!”

“Indeed!” Each of them spun around on tiptoe, and the cameras zoomed in on their footwear as a distraction from Haymitch’s persistent middle finger.

Just beyond the entryway, the galleria was packed already. Guests were dressed in yards of fabric and large hats. Floral arrangements lined marble walls covered with paintings, some of which were probably older than Panem itself. Haymitch slipped into the first empty chair he spotted, ignoring the usher who asked him, “Are you here for the bride or the groom?”

The question pestered. The bride. Shit. I’m here for the bride.

***

With every detail attended to, Effie curled her fingers around her father’s arm in the vestibule. Flower girls and bridesmaids entered the galleria first, then it would be her turn.

“My princess is getting married in a palace.” Her father kissed her cheek.

“Daddy! Careful of my makeup. Photos aren’t being taken until afterward.”

“Of course. It’s YOUR perfect day.”

Effie had certainly made everything perfect, except for this unrelenting nausea and desire to run away. She forced herself to breathe slowly. The last thing she needed right now was to throw up, ruin her white gown, and have the press start a false rumor about pregnancy. She had no desire to have children with Seneca. She’d made that clear, and he agreed.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Her father calling her “sweetheart” made every discomfort worse. Clearly she thought of Haymitch.

“I’m trying to be alright... but I don’t know,” she confessed.

Her father wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s almost time to walk down the aisle. Is that what you want to do?”

He asked it like she had a choice, but it was too late for choices.

“Let’s go pay the piper!” As Effie started down the aisle on her father’s arm, she didn’t notice the splendor and fullness of the room, nor the oohs and aahs from standing friends and family. She didn’t notice the rose petals on the floor, nor her fiancé sweating like a pig about to be roasted alive with an apple in its mouth.

All she saw was Haymitch.

He stood at the edge of the aisle, in the middle of the room. In the years that she’d known him, he’d been clear about his disdain for Capitol events, yet here he was, no RSVP and very much himself in his regular clothes from District 12. She’d probably be irritated if she hadn’t missed him so much. He was standing right here, and she was still missing him. It took every ounce of restraint to not tell him so.

“Great dress, sweetheart.” He offered a subdued smile as she passed.

She looked back at him once, and her eyes felt like old glass, holding tears too hardened to fall. Then there was nothing to do but look forward.

***

Fear was screaming different words now at Haymitch. Stop this. This wedding. Stop this!

As she walked away from him, he could see that her dress had an open back from her waist to the top of her shoulder blades. The gap was bordered in ornate jewels, stitching, and fancy shit. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her skin, and he couldn’t stop thinking about touching her.

She glanced at him again as she handed her bouquet to a bridesmaid. Her eyes were pleading. He knew the look because of all the times he’d tried to ignore her feelings for him ...and his feelings for her.

The officiant addressed the audience, “We are gathered here today to join Effie and Seneca in matrimony. Family, friends, and honored guests, do you support this union and affirm that these two should be married today?”

Haymitch looked around as the audience responded in unison, "We do."

I don’t.

The officiant continued, “Will you surround this couple in love, offering them the joys of your friendship? Will you support this couple in their relationship? At times of conflict will you offer them the strength of your wisest counsel and the comfort of your thoughtful concern? At times of joy, will you celebrate with them, nourishing their love for one another?”

The automatons responded together again, "We will.”

Like hell I will.

“If any of you has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Haymitch sighed and shook his head. Someday he’d be the death of her, or she’d be the death of him. Maybe today was that day.

This felt like now or never. The bit of whiskey still in his veins helped it be now. He stood up and moved quickly down the aisle to the sound of gasps and murmurs all around him.

***

“What are you doing?” Effie was stunned as he gripped her wrist.

“Excuse us,” Haymitch said directly to Seneca, then he pulled Effie out of the room down a long hallway.

She went willingly, chastising him in hushed tones along the way. “Haymitch! This is highly inappropriate!”

“More inappropriate than us having this conversation in front of the entire Capitol?”

“What conversation?”

He pulled her into a room down the hall.

“Not so tight!”

He loosened his grasp on her wrist but didn’t let go.

“What are you doing, Effie?”

“Do I need to state the obvious?”

“Marriage?? Why are you even WITH him?”

“I don’t owe you explanations — or anything else for that matter.”

She was right. She owed him nothing. His edge softened, and he stroked her wrist with his thumb. “Why are you marrying somebody you didn’t even look at as you walked down that aisle?”

“I LOOKED at him.”

“For about five seconds, and what did you see?”

She hesitated, “He’s wearing a tie, not an ascot. We had a dispute about it this week, and I insisted he wear the tie.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about on your wedding day when you see the man you’re about to marry — a goddamn tie?”

“Why are YOU giving ME the third degree! What are YOU thinking about on my wedding day?”

“I’m thinking about how much I hate Seneca Crane. I don’t want him marrying you. I don’t want you fucking him.”

“Well, that ship sailed! We’ve been having sex for months, not that it’s any of your business!”

“Not my business?”

“Absolutely not!”

He was burning with a mix of emotions: anger, jealousy, frustration, confusion, desire, fear. “If it’s not my business, then why did you ask me to ‘please come’ today? What am I doing here? ...If it’s not my business, then why did reading your wedding invitation make me puke. Why can’t I stop thinking about you? ...If it’s not my business, then why do I want to be the one to take this dress off you. I keep holding your wrist because if I let go, I’m gonna touch you, and what would your *fiancé* think about that? What would YOU think about that?”

He’d never confessed so much to her all at once, and she was in a mild state of shock about it. “Last summer you told me if we ‘fucked around’ then you’d have to pretend it means nothing. You told me you can’t pretend that, so where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do. ...Let go of my wrist.”

“I told you what’s gonna happen if I let go.”

“Then let it happen.”

In a duality of reluctance and eagerness, he let go of her wrist and caressed her through the open back of her dress. She shivered and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

The wig she wore resembled her actual hair color, light golden, like wheat before harvest. In this moment, she was an angel. He’d kiss her if she’d just shut up, but she had things to say too.

“If it’s not your business, then why am I still here with you instead of out there marrying Seneca?” Her tone softened. “Why do I close my eyes and picture you every time I kiss him and every time we have sex? ....If it’s not your business, then why do I miss you so much?”

“Jesus, Effie. What are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do.”

***

From the doorway, Seneca cleared his throat. He’d been listening awhile. Effie tried to pull away from Haymitch, but first he had to untangle himself from the back of her dress.

“This isn’t quite what it looks like,” Effie laughed nervously.

“It looks like unfinished business,” Seneca said.

“Then it IS what it looks like,” Haymitch told him.

“Will you please excuse us?” Seneca asked, proper as fuck. “Effie and I have some things to discuss.”

“I’m not leaving.” Fear and desire for her wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll handle this,” she insisted. “Please wait in the hall.”

This was the Gamemaker’s house, his wedding, and his girl for god sake. What else could Haymitch do? Pull out his knife and slit the guy’s throat?? This was Effie’s world, not his. Without another word, he stepped out of the room, and he hated that she closed the door behind him.

Seneca confronted her, “I’ll say this quickly because our guests have already waited long enough. A marriage of convenience is prudent when the motivations for such a union are stronger than the desire for love. I’ve realized that’s not the case here. For me, and apparently not for you either.”

“Are you in love with someone else?”

“Someone my family regards as unsuitable. I’m sorry I didn’t speak about it sooner. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.” He glanced at the door, “But I see that you do. Frankly, this interruption is an enormous relief.”

Effie was slightly miffed to realize that Seneca would not be pining for her, but the interruption did lift her feeling of dread. “I apologize as well. I haven’t been forthcoming with you, or with myself. What do we do now? The Capitol is expecting a wedding.”

“The Capitol is expecting a show, and they’re getting that. Let’s walk out there together and announce that we’ve decided to cancel the nuptials and move straight to the reception. It can still be the party of the year.”

“But my parents...”

“I’ll reimburse your father for his investment in this. It’s the right thing to do. I do care for you, Effie, but I should never have discussed marriage as a hypothetical, let alone proposed and let it get this far.”

He held out his hand. “Shall we? Before any more time passes.”

She threaded her fingers with his in solidarity.

When the door opened, Haymitch was still there in the hall, fuming now at the sight of them holding hands.

“Seneca, give me another minute,” she said.

He let go of her and took several steps away.

She touched Haymitch’s arm and spoke into his ear, “The wedding is off. But we need time to appease our families and everyone else. Meet me at 9 o’clock at The Popina on 6th St. Do you know the place?”

He’d never been there, but it was a good call. He doubted the press would look for him at a swanky wine bar. “I know the one.”

She whispered, “I said I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything either. Regardless, this feeling between us isn’t going away.”

Seneca told him, “Keep following this hallway as it bends to the right. You’ll eventually reach a side door you can take out of here if you want...”

Haymitch didn’t trust him and didn’t want to leave.

“...Unless you’d prefer a walk back down the red carpet with the other guests.”

I don’t.

Effie urged him to go. “I need to set this right. Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

“I don’t wanna run out in the middle of a pile of shit.”

“Language! This wedding is not a pile of anything. It’s an event we need to finish differently than expected. Will you trust me?”

“Fine.” He answered without conviction, turning away so he wouldn’t have to watch them link hands again. Holding the handle of the knife in his pocket, he followed the hallway to the side door and left all that nonsense behind him. Did he trust her?? If she walked into that bar tonight without a rock on her finger, then maybe he just might.

***

Afterward, the red carpet commentary indeed made for a more interesting show.

“The only thing more exciting than a wedding,” said Caesar, “Is a kiss at the altar between the bride and groom after they’ve CALLED OFF the ceremony!”

“You may now kiss the woman in white who is no longer your bride!”

“Oh, Claudius, you’re so cheeky!”

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen a couple more happy to be NOT married.”

“Did somebody bring the sun INSIDE the palace? Because they were positively glowing.”

“The reception is still on, and did you hear their words about it?”

“Caesar, I was on the edge of my seat, and I couldn’t miss them, but say them again.”

“Seneca began, ‘May 1st, May Day, is not just one of folktales. Mayday was a cry of distress during war, terrible war. The Capitol responded and transformed that distress into peace.’

“Then...”

“Then Effie continued, ‘Instead of celebrating a wedding, we’ve decided to transform the reception we’d planned into a festival honoring the glory of the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.’”

“Don’t you just love that?”

“I DO! I absolutely do!”

“Well, that’s the only ‘I do’ that we’ll be hearing this afternoon!”

Hysterical laughter ensued between the two.

“Claudius, the question on everyone’s mind revolves around the influence of a certain mentor from District 12.”

“Yes. Haymitch Abernathy interrupted the ceremony.”

“He pulled Effie away, and Seneca followed. When the couple returned hand-in-hand, they called off the wedding. The mystery is, what happened in between?”

“As you said earlier, we never know what to expect from Haymitch. That one is a wildcard.”

“We’ve been waiting for him to emerge from the palace so we can ask him, but as we noted before, he is a man of few words.”

“Maybe we’ll catch him at the reception.”

“The festival!”

“The festival, of course!”

***

By 10 o’clock, Haymitch had read the sign on the wall a hundred times. “Hedone says, ‘You can drink here for one; if you give two, you will drink better; if you give four, you will drink Falernian.”

‘Hedone’ he recognized as the Roman goddess of pleasure. He thought pleasure would be a fine devotion if it wasn’t pursued at the cost of other people’s lives or pursued to chase away demons. He was already chasing one bottle of Falernian with another. “Damn Capitol wine doesn’t get you drunk unless you chug two bottles. And this is the best they’ve got?”

He’d been there a couple of hours. During that time, his attention was divided between that sign reflecting on hedonism and the screen showing footage of Effie’s non-wedding reception.

They were *saving face* alright. Haymitch had rarely seen Effie kiss anyone, and tonight he’d watched her kiss her *former* fiancé every time someone clinked a glass. The kisses were pecks mostly, a game they were probably playing to host a fun party and show the Capitol there were no hard feelings between them. But as the kisses added up, Haymitch’s dislike for Seneca Crane became more palpable.

“Slide a bit,” she said, showing up beside him. She was hiding in a simple dress and a light layer of makeup. Her hair was pulled back beneath a scarf instead of a wig.

He scooted over, making room for her at his booth in back. “You’re late, sweetheart. Did Crane kiss all that makeup off your face?”

“And you’re drunk.” She caressed the back of his neck, content to be with him right now, drunk or not.

“Wasn’t drunk an hour ago after the first bottle of this Falernian shit. But the more you drink, the better it tastes.”

She drank from his glass, and he didn’t object. From his perspective right now, she could drink straight from his mouth or off his body.

He encircled her waist, pulling her as close as the setting allowed. He was relieved to see that she wasn’t married. His inhibitions were reduced, so she could do just about anything to him right now, and he wouldn’t object. He tried not to think about her having that kind of power.

She stroked his arm wrapped around her. “There’s a rumor circulating about you.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” He kissed her neck after each question. “Do they think I’m fucking you?”

She giggled because the hair on his face tickled her skin and because she was anticipating his response. “Not quite, honey.”

“What then?”

“They think you’re fucking Seneca.”

“What the hell?!!”

“Caesar and Claudius predicted ‘the mentor from District 12 is having a torrid affair with the Head Gamemaker,’ and you pulled me away from the wedding in the hopes of taking my place at the altar.”

“They’re lunatics.”

“It’s a risky move breaking up a wedding. Who knows what people will say.”

“What do YOU say?”

“I say you look at my breasts far too often for you to be interested in Seneca Crane,” she chuckled.

“And what do you say about me breaking up your wedding?”

As she looked into his eyes, there was no approximation, no almost. It was a relief to not have to *pretend* that he was the one she wanted, but to just KNOW it. “I say, thank you. ...Sweetheart.”

What fantasies and real desires would be accessible with him? She’d know more in time.

#hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #effie x haymitch #haymitch x effie #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #seneca crane #thg #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games #claudius templesmith #caesar flickerman #the capitol #pre-74th hunger games #may day #mayday #slide a bit nancy lee #HayffieFics

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mamthew · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Great Ace Attorney: Adventures

I finished the first of the Great Ace Attorney games last night and have some thoughts I want to write out. I'll be mostly avoiding spoilers, and I mark the ones I do have.

I approached this game with the thought that this - a new AA game with completely new characters, set in an entirely different time period - would be the first entirely functional jumping-on-point the series has had since the original back in 2001. For that reason, I critiqued the game mostly through that lens: how much of this game would show newcomers the best of what the series has to offer without requiring information it doesn't provide? GAA fits the latter wonderfully. There's no Phoenix or Apollo or Athena, only minor references to other games that don't detract from this game's story in any way. Players don't need to understand spirit channeling or magician heredity or Larry Butz. This is a game a newcomer can approach and play without any long exposition on who has what relationship with whom. However, this game simply doesn't show newcomers the best of what the series has to offer. GAA has five cases, and of those five I would consider two of them to have a satisfying resolution. Obviously, that's pretty subjective, but at the very least, Ace Attorney is known for its villains and this game has maybe one. And that one villain...doesn't get a freakout. Two of the cases feel like attempts to redo and fix the two most poorly executed cases in AA2, and they definitely succeed at doing that, but it means that the cases don't have satisfying conclusions by design. The gimmick of this game, too, feels less satisfying than previous gimmicks. The testimonies place multiple characters on the stands at once, and in theory that means the player must be scanning the other characters' faces for reactions to what is being said, but in practice the game simply makes a loud sound and gives you an icon telling you exactly which character made that sound. It's considerably less satisfying than scanning for subtle body language hints as Apollo or using your evidence to break through people's walls as Phoenix. It's too simple, and that, combined with the mostly uninteresting solutions to the cases, makes finishing each case not feel like an achievement. This is also the first game in the series to spend a lot of time setting up plot points for future games. Every other Ace Attorney game is self-contained; it's useful to know the previous games, but every mystery brought up in a game will be solved by the end of that game. I can think of at least ten questions off the top of my head that are introduced in this game but aren't given any resolution specifically so that those mysteries can carry forward into the sequel. This probably is less of an issue in this format, where both games are in one collection, so I can just move on to the next one as soon as I'm done with this one, but it makes GAA feel like a less cohesive title. I've played five cases of this game and could tell you almost nothing about the prosecutor. There isn't a single other AA game where that's the case. Obviously, this is just a different storytelling philosophy than the series has had in the past, but it's one at odds with the game's own theming. The character of Sherlock Holmes is very important to the plot of this game, which is delightful, and makes sense given just how much influence Holmes mysteries have had on the series as a whole. But each of Doyle's stories about Holmes was self-contained, which was why the character held such mass appeal. The writers of this game are laying claim to a pedigree from which they are simultaneously distancing themselves. Hell, in the past I've turned on old AA games on a whim and replayed old chapters out of order because generally each mystery stands on its own. I would not do that with this game. There's no reason to replay case 3, for instance, without just replaying the entire game. Case 4 spends more time dealing with the fallout of cases 2 and 3 than it does investigating its own mystery. And it looks like this trend will be continuing. I watched the opening cutscene of the second game, and its first case seems to be about answering the questions left unanswered from the first case of the previous game. That

leaves me excited to play the case and learn the answers to those questions, but it also means the tutorial case for GAA isn't resolved by the end of the game. That's ludicrous when compared to any other game in the series. The closest comparison I have is the first case of AA4, in which the victim's identity, the murderer's motive, and both their relationships to the defendant are left hanging, but that's all resolved in case 4, and the act of solving the murder itself was satisfying enough that I didn't find myself worrying about those answers until I was meant to. By the end of GAA, I only know one of those details about the first case, and I spent most of the game waiting for those answers to come. Hell, in case 4, two characters I'd never seen before or since stage a conversation in front of the protagonist, and I can only assume they'll be important again in the second game. Their character models honestly shouldn't even have been in this game. The pacing is also oddly quick, even with an extra case. We only see the prosecutor's gimmick in action once, another character out-mia-fey's mia fey with the level of disrespect in their death, and while the main themes of the series get a lot of lip-service in this game, it mostly doesn't feel earned, except in the last case. To dip my toe into spoilers for the next paragraph:

Every AA game deals heavily with the theme of belief in one's client. The Japanese justice system is pretty fucked, so the games talk a lot about how a defense attorney must fully trust in their client's innocence, because literally no one else will. It's a pretty powerful motif, especially when you consider the real-world implications. In Ace Attorney, trusting in your client's innocence includes being willing to take risks by pointing out evidence that seems to hurt your client's case, because getting a fuller understanding of the truth is the only way to find the real culprit, in the end. In GAA, the protagonist's ability to trust in his clients is dashed with his very first case, so early he never had a chance to understand the importance of that trust. So his journey of trying to learn how to trust in his clients feels unearned for returning players and will probably feel entirely confusing and out-of-place for first-time players.

Okay, that's the end of those spoilers

None of this is to say this is a bad game. It's much better than 5 or 6, and it's still probably the best jumping-on point since 1. If anyone asked me where to start the series, I'd still tell them to play the original trilogy, but this isn't a terrible place to start either. I love the characters a lot, their take on Sherlock Holmes is delightful, and the use of the turn-of-the-century time period is great. You even defend an actual historical Japanese novelist from the time, which is really a treat.

But I worry that unless the second game is a considerable jump in quality, that this side story simply won't have the staying power of the original trilogy, 4, or investigations. I've been mad for a really long time that we only got this game 6 years after the first one released and 4 years after the second, but after having played this I'm at least glad it released packed in with the sequel, or I'd've probably been considerably more disappointed with it than I already am. Then there are other issues that come with the collection format meaning we essentially have a second tutorial halfway through the game.

In any case, once I've finished the second game I'll probably write some thoughts on that, too, and possibly rank the series.

#ace attorney #great ace attorney

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benperorsolo · 5 years ago

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So in that time travel scenario of Rey going back to her past self during TFA in order to save Ben, how do you think she would speak to him or react to him? How do you think Ben might respond?

@greyjedireylo and I have talked extensively about dumb hcs for this and I keep needing to set aside time to write fic but I’m trash at time management so consider these possibilities

Rey gets thrown back to the woods of Takodana and is so overwhelmed by Ben’s aliveness that she just totally throws herself into his arms and Ben-imagine-how-is-touch-the-girl-Solo just grabs her in reflexive startlement and vague fear as this girl starts sobbing into his shoulder

I mean, people cry in his presence all the time, but this girl doesn’t seem sad?? Or, she seems sad all right, but she seems sad because of something he did?? But not a bad thing he did?? It’s like a confusing good sad?? What is this??

And suddenly he feels her presence in the force, and it reminds him of a warmth he used to feel as a child, like a blanket, and– who is she

Her first words to him are probably something dumb and impulsive and along the lines of calling him a nerfherder, and Ben startles because who is this girl to tempt fate by taunting the Master of the Knights of Ren like this, doesn’t she know he’s a monster, but of course in his secret heart this only draws him to her more, because Ben was convinced he was a monster his whole life, and all he really wanted was for someone not to fear him

Ben bumblingly tries to regain control of the situation by asking Rey if she’s seen the map, and Rey is just like Yes so you’ll have to take me to your ship!! and something pings in Ben’s brain and he’s like This is so a trap somehow but he can’t find a good enough reason not to do the thing he intended to do this whole time, even if the prisoner is disturbingly willing

He keeps trying to extricate Rey from her position essentially glomping onto his chest like a hermit crab but she refuses and so Ben has to carry her to his ship like that. Rey doesn’t give a fuck because they spent enough time not being together, fully one as a dyad, so to hell with dignity, she’s not making the same mistakes she did last time, she will get her belonging and her manz and her happy ending thank you very much

They have an hour’s worth of indescribable UST on the shuttle ride over to Starkiller (which Rey fully acknowledges to herself but which Ben refuses to because she is his prisoner, damn it, he does not feel feelings) in which Rey continues to sit in his lap

We have to understand that Ben in all his phases is Softe™, just buried under given layers of denial, and 24 hours after this incident in the normal timeline he was holding her hand and telling her she wasn’t alone. The closest way to get Ben to short circuit out of his persona is to show him kindness or concern, and Rey immediately being unafraid of him and treating him like a person would totally short circuit his ability to properly perform the “scary Kylo Ren” role, which he is already so bad at. So he just sits there with those “GIRL” alarm bells ringing in his head like Riley’s boyfriend from Inside Out as he tries to Pull Himself Together

Ben can’t exactly force her into an interrogation chair when she’s fully conscious so he just awkwardly walks with her to one of the rooms, locks it, and sets her down, and tries his best to Intimidatingly™ ask her what game she thinks she’s playing and doesn’t she know who he is, and Rey says, “Yes. You’re Ben Solo, my soulmate in the Force” and she reaches up and unlatches the mask

Bensolo.exe has crashed

After Rey explains the situation some Ben has a bit of an existential breakdown and they both end up on the floor, holding each other

Ben has no idea what to do, so he ends up taking Rey back to his quarters to hide her from Snoke (he knows this can’t last long) and cue shenanigans as Rey demands increasingly ludicrous favors from Ben and Ben to his own horror realizes he’s powerless to deny her

“Ben I wanna fly a TIE fighter” “Ben I wanna go to the bridge and see the stars” “Ben I wanna punch Hux in the nose”

I’m fiddling with the timeline here so that Han coming to Starkiller happens some days or weeks after Ben and Rey meet

Plot happens and they live happily ever after the end :)

#asks #nonnie #takodana time travel au

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thatapostateboy · 6 years ago

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colourful charade

Pairing: None, just platonic Constantin and de Sardet

Word Count: 1835

Synopsis: A fic about a young de Sardet, her more exasperated mother and an introduction. (I wrote most of this on my phone so please forgive any errors)

It was the day after her sixteenth birthday that Genevieve de Sardet broke a man’s nose for the first time. There had been plenty of times before that incident where it had been an option she had considered; any number of cruel boys or even crueller adults at court took the opportunity to pass comment on the curling green mark upon her cheek, coming up with increasingly more ludicrous reasons for its existence; an infection, a curse, the true beginning of the Malichor.

It had angered her so much, to listen to people who did not know her judging her for something that she had been born with. Her relation to the royal family saved her any public ridicule, but it was the whispers behind her back that truly hurt her more. It was for that reason that her mother had trained her young how to always strive towards diplomacy. She was a lady of the court, niece to the Prince D’Orsay, she would need to know how to navigate the delicate dealings and political backstabbings that came with that role.

From a young age, she took to those lessons with great enthusiasm, finding a talent within herself for the intrigue and game of it all. She never truly agreed with the secrecy and the way that the nobility clung to their titles even at the expense of the major populace, but she loved knowing how to play them to get what she wanted.

It didn’t stop many of the rumours, but whatever words spread, everyone held a respect for the young Lady de Sardet, for so quickly learning how to play.

And yet, none of it mattered in that moment that she stood in her mother’s room, her usually tidy hair falling loose from her braids, mud on her dress. It was not a fully unusual state of dress, having been a tearaway child, always running off on adventures with her cousin. But the true part that stood out was that her hand was swollen and shaking in pain, a smear of someone else’s blood still on it.

Princess de Sardet let out a heavy sigh as she took in the sight of her daughter, “The guards tell me you punched a boy.”

Genevieve looked away dejectedly. Of course the guards had been the ones to tell on her. The members of the Coin Guard were some of the only people in the palace that she could never wrap her head around. The only way of making this whole incident go away would have been to pay them, but unfortunately, they answered to her mother and her uncle before her.

“I thought I taught you well,” she said, “What is the one thing I told you always to remember, my child?”

“That we are meant to use our words before anything else,” Genevieve muttered.

“And yet, you broke a boy’s nose, and injured your poor hand in the process,” she gestured to her daughter’s shaking hand.

Genevieve let out a huff, trying to defend herself, “But Mother…”

Princess de Sardet put her hand up to quiet her child, “Darling, you are a lady, not a soldier. Whatever happened, it is not your duty to take such actions.”

“But-” she tried to interject to no avail.

“We will have to organise some sort of apology to appease the boy’s family before news of this spreads too far, perhaps an opportunistic marriage arrangement or a position at court or-”

“I had no choice!” she blurted out.

Her mother’s eyebrows raised high, “I’m sorry?”

“Constantin and I had a break between our lessons, so we decided to venture into the city for a few hours. We were careful, we didn’t wear our recognisable clothes. We thought it would be fun to sneak into the Coin Tavern. We had a drink together, we weren’t bothering anyone, when suddenly this boy came up to us. He was a few years older, but I recognised him as the eldest son of the Laval family. Unfortunately, he had recognised us as well, and thought he would take the opportunity whilst he was well into his cups and away from the court to openly tell me in front of the entire tavern what he thought of me. He called me a cursed bitch who wasn’t even worthy of being downstairs with the tavern whores. He told me that his younger brother had contracted the malichor and wondered if slitting my throat would cure him,” she told her.

“That wretched boy. I will ensure he pays for this public scene, I promise you that,” her mother nodded, deep in thought, “So that is when you punched him?”

“Not entirely,” Genevieve said, “It was then that dear Constantin attempted to come to my rescue. He denounced him, threatened to have his tongue for the threats against his fair cousin, and told him that he would regret ever laying eyes on me. At which point the Laval boy laughed and told Constantin that he was a weaselly little bastard and his father would disown him before he ever disappointed everyone enough to take the throne. He then knocked Constantin to the ground and was going to attack him. I grabbed my mug and threw it at him to get his attention away from Constantin… And that is when I punched him.”

“I see.”

Her mother rose from her desk and paced to the window looking out across her view of the city, quiet for a long moment.

Genevieve took a deep breath, but held her head high, “I know my duty, mother, and my duty will always be to protect Constantin. Through whatever means necessary. It wasn’t the situation for words, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. If you wish to punish me for that, I will accept it, but I will not regret my actions.”

The Princess de Sardet turned to look back at her daughter, letting out a drawn out sigh, “I need time to think on this. For now, return to your room and I will make sure someone sees to your hand… But thank you for telling me the truth. I will make sure appropriate punishments are dealt out.”

~*~*~

It was later that evening as she sat curled up in her armchair by the fire reading a book, that she heard her door open. She smiled to herself, not even looking up. There was only one person who ever came in without knocking.

“Good evening, dear cousin,” she said.

“My fair cousin, I have been desperate to come here to speak with you,” Constantin said, eagerly taking his usual seat in the chair opposite hers, “Once we were hauled back here by the guards, and then separated to be lectured by our mothers, I haven’t had the time to thank you.”

She set her book down, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do,” he nodded, “Had you not been there with me, I do not know what would have happened.”

“You wouldn’t have started a fight with a boy nearly twice the size of you,” she pointed out with a smirk.

“The brute started it himself when he insulted you,” he said, “I could not stand to hear him say such foul things about you.”

“I can handle myself, Constantin,” she reminded him.

“I know, but we look after each other. It’s what we do… Though you are more likely to be the one looking after me. My lucky star. Always there to pull me out of my fires… I cannot believe that you truly broke his nose,” he said with a hum of laughter.

“And near broke my hand doing it,” she said, raising her bandaged hand. A healer had dealt with it for her, but had told her to rest it for the evening to prevent any further damage.

“Has your mother doled out any punishment yet?” he asked, “My father was furious, hearing that I was nearly part of a bar brawl in broad daylight. He was in the middle of lecturing me about disappointment and responsibility when your mother came in to talk to him. He sent me to my room and I’ve not heard a thing since.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted, “I’m starting to find this lack of clarity worse than any punishment they come up with.”

It was then that a soft knock came at the door. Genevieve rose to her feet, calling out for them to enter.

Her mother swept into the room, greeting her nephew with a respectful nod.

“The Prince and I have been in discussion,” she told them, “The Laval boy has received his due justice for his actions in the tavern. It is safe to say that their family is now in disgrace for so openly insulting and nearly assaulting the prince’s son and niece. As for the two of you… Though you prevented a worse fight from occurring, you both still snuck out of the palace without informing anyone, spent the afternoon in a tavern, and then injured a young man of the nobility. Whatever your intentions, this is something that cannot be ignored. You will both gather in the courtyard immediately after breakfast tomorrow.”

“What for?” Genevieve asked.

“You will find out in the morning. For now, rest well, both of you. You have a long day ahead of you,” she said with a quirk of her eyebrow and she left the room, leaving the two cousins staring at each other dumb-founded.

~*~*~

The next morning after an awkwardly quiet breakfast, the pair made their way to the courtyard as instructed, neither of them knowing what to expect. They found the Princess de Sardet waiting for them with a man of the Coin Guard, older than them by ten years, dark hair shorn at the sides, scars marking his face.

“If my endless instruction on the matters of court cannot keep you both from trouble after all these years, you both need to know what to do when trouble finds you,” she said, then looked to the man beside her, “This is Kurt, our Master of Arms. He will be taking on your combat instruction from now on.”

Both Genevieve and Constantin’s eyes went wide as they looked from him to her.

“Combat?” Constantin asked, voice dry.

“Yes, dearest nephew,” she nodded, “You must both be prepared for whatever life may throw at you. Your lessons with Kurt will be worked into your daily schedule, but you will be with him all day today. Learn from him. His lessons may one day save your life.”

She gave a regarding nod to Kurt, who returned it with, then she left them in the courtyard with him. They both looked at each other before Kurt let out a gruff chuckle, folding his arms across his chest.

“So, Your Excellencies,” he said, “I hear that someone needs to teach you dainties how to properly break a man’s nose without breaking your hand… Let’s get started.”

#greedfall #constantin d'orsay #de sardet #kurt greedfall #princess de sardet #genevieve de sardet #writing

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