#r lutece

[theartofzan]

Artober Day 29: R. Lutece You'll find that handy in a pinch. The difference between life and death. I will NEVER be over the Lutece twins from Bioshock Infinite! So today we have Rosalind with a shield infusion to help you get through the day. Only two days of Artober left!! Can you believe it?

Buy Me A Coffee

[brinaarcadia]

Gentleman: We have company.

Lady: We do indeed.

Booker: Why are you following me?

Lady: We were already here.

Gentleman: Why are YOU following US?

Booker: I--

Lady: Aperitif?

Gentleman: You'll find that happy in a pinch.

Lady: The difference between life and death.

[Booker takes the shield upgrade.]

Booker: Ooh…what was that?

Lady: Hmm. Surprising.

Gentleman: Surprising that it worked?

Lady: Surprising that it didn't kill him.

Gentleman: But a magnetic-propulsive field around one's body can come in handy.

Lady: If it doesn't kill you.

Gentleman: A fair point.

[aaauwiaiauuakaa]

smiles at you lovingly ,, ∞

" Y esa vivencia es la referencia que con otros me une y me diferencia " el hijo de Hernández by el Cuarteto de Nos

I LOVE THEM !(1>!**+ :3

[lootzest]

Robert hopping out of his box and into hers 😭😭

i am asexual and it shows

[monsieur-neuvillette]

[ After being the one to have to go fetch more ingredients instead of Sakura or Dolly, Carimella was making her way through the city of Fontaine. She was unsure where the market was, frantically searching the roads when she bumped into someone with a squeak, her ears flopping down behind her. ]

"E-eep! S-sorry! I-i didn't look where I was going-!"

[ The girl was skittish, not used to having many social interactions with more popular figures. ]

"R-really sorry-!"

~ @cafe-luteces-baker

[Neuvillette seemed to have a small streak of people running into him recently, remaining straight up and turning his gaze to the woman in front of him with a curious look, giving a small note to her nervousness]

“Ah, hello there. It is no issue.”

[He fixed his pin, turning to completely face her, his hands going to rest on his cane]

“May I ask why you are in such a hurry?”

[whispers-through-the-walls]

RIP R. Lutece I feel like you would've loved Cole Porter's songs

[lovestruck-lou]

Hey there! I'm Lou. (They/Them pronouns preferred, any are OK) Thanks for stopping by!

Typical DNIs apply. I'm not about discourse or drama so don't bring any of that up. I'm a grown ass adult who's just here to have fun and vibe ✌️

Main blog is @wimawile, so all interactions will come from there.

F/O List under the cut!

CURRENT:

💕💕💕Iknik Blackstone Varrick (Legend of Korra)

Alyx Vance (Half-life 2)

Murdoc Niccals (Gorillaz)

Papyrus (Undertale)

Dormant F/Os:

(I still love these characters a lot but may not post about them much)

Bayonetta (From 1&2, fuck 3)

Gayle (Animal Crossing)

Lopez (Animal Crossing)

Elliott (Stardew Valley)

Felix (FE3H)

Rosalind Lutece (Bioshock Infinite)

Brigitte (Overwatch)

Skoodge (Invader Zim)

Kazuichi Soda (SDR2, DR3)

Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls)

Happy Mask Salesman (LOZ: Majora's Mask)

Black Bomber (Super Bomberman R)

All romantic. Still kind of short, but will add to this as I think of more.

I love all the characters on this list but due to hyperfixations I'm more fixated on current ones!!

Also, I don't care if you share any of them! I'd love to meet others who share their love of a character with me.

[fuchsiamae]

the logic loop that I'm getting hung up on: rosalind needs comstock to get funding for the tear device, but comstock (ostensibly) uses the tears in his prophecies to form his cult of personality and get that funding

the most obvious answer is that comstock lies to begin with

or maybe that he's just some guy with big ideas when first getting columbia funded, and it's not until she gets the tears going with that funding that he goes full prophet

time to break out my clown shoes again

I'm back on my "trying to parse fine detail from the timeline of a game that wasn't meat to be examined" bullshit

it's fucking bioshock infinite this time so this is a fool's errand from the start (which I suppose is thematically appropriate)

[pcrfidia]

madame r. lutece

[mythuzalasheir3]

Severance Bioshock Infinite AU with Helly R as Booker DeWitt and Columbia is the Kier Eagan Cult

Mark S is Elizabeth and Reghabi is the Luteces ftr the lore is insaneeee

[maximuswolf]

Most Dynamic Duos In Gaming

Most Dynamic Duos In Gaming We can talk about Mario and Luigi and Sonic and Tails, but bonus points for newer additions to the canon. I’m pretty partial to Brok and Sindri and the Lutece twins myself Submitted June 24, 2024 at 11:27PM by _NorthSouth https://ift.tt/CU0bHTF via /r/gaming

[brinaarcadia]

Madame Lutece -- I have read all of your books on the sciences. Mama says, “It's not a fit occupation for a lady,” but I think she's jealous of our cleverness. Is it true that only you are allowed to visit the girl in the tower? If the Lamb is lonely, too, I should like to meet her, as we would have much in common. -- Warmest regards, Constance

[aaauwiaiauuakaa]

hehe :3

Hehehehe :3

[lootzest]

Hello! Just wanted to say I'm extremely happy to have found your blog. I've loved these two since 2013 and believed their fandom to be completely inexistent by now.

I look fowards to seeing what you post about them, have a nice day ❤️

Thank you to anonymous for this, I am so glad to be carrying the torch for this quiet quiet fandom. Accidentally haven't actually written about the babes all year - have grand plans for that to change.

R. Lutece are currently on the beach, enjoying an ice cream. They're sitting under a huge parasol because they burn easily (and can hold hands secretly under it.)

[lootzest]

R. Lutece has never done anything wrong in her life.

TENENBAUM IN MY LUTECES BRAINROT?? GOOD.

[fuchsiamae]

Lutecest 16 because :)

this is shaping up to become part of a longer oneshot (because I have feelings about the ultimatum ok) but: 16, ‘not wanting to let go’ hugs

.

They are watching from the hilltop, standing side by side to look down at the river below, silent spectators to the last scene of the drama they set in motion. The girl, plural, lowers her father to the water, with gentler hands than a man like him deserves. She holds him as he submerges. Holds him down. He will not struggle; he allows the water to close over his head.

Lutece is still and silent. Both pairs of eyes fix on the action, but barely see. They don’t care for this subplot’s resolution. They look out because they cannot bear to look at one another, for what will likely be the last time.

No Comstock. No Columbia. No contraption.

They cannot be torn apart if they will never be together.

He will reach for her hand, though fearing that she might again jerk away. She will take it. Her fingers lace with his as she squeezes tight, and he squeezes back, as if their two hands might bind them through whatever is to come.

The man in the water, no doubt reaching the edge of consciousness, will begin to thrash, his body’s instinct fighting for one last gasp of life. His daughter holds firm, immersing her selves to the elbows, to the shoulders, one bending to put her full weight on the struggling form. She’s come eight times over to witness the end; the slight-framed girl could not overpower him alone, but with her own aid, she will fulfil her grim duty. One of her is weeping. Only one.

The thrashing slows. Stills.

Lutece, the ghost, is not breathing. Even their hearts cease to beat.

Solemnly, the girl releases her burden, bequeathing it to the river bottom. She rises. Stands, gazing down at what she’s done. Eight figures in the shallow water, her heads bowed.

Seven.

Six.

Lutece’s joined hands grip so hard they tremble.

Five.

Four.

Three.

They say nothing. They’ve said it all—and now will never say it.

Two.

In unison, their index fingers tap a quick rhythm, more familiar than a pulse: RL in Morse code. Their first message to each other, and their last. As it ends, the final girl vanishes.

She was never here. Never will be. There is only the water, its surface unbroken, shrouding the dead man below.

And the observer, Lutece.

Innumerable moments pass in silence. Nothing moves but wind rippling the grass. They feel it on their faces, smell the murky scent of river. Hear, in the far distance, a congregation singing. “Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, Lord, by and by…”

Cautiously, their bodies resume the ghost of function. Hearts remember to beat. Breath returns—his with an exhale of relief, hers with a shuddering gasp, as if she herself has been underwater.

“Still here?”

“Shh.” As if she thinks reality is a monster in a fairytale, and they might escape its notice by staying silent. Her grip on his hand would be painful if he weren’t matching it. They cling to one another as though this anchorage is all that keeps them from blowing away on the wind.

Without letting go, he guides their linked hands to the small of her back, bringing their bodies together. Her hand won’t release until his arm moors her firmly against him; with a final squeeze, it ventures across his back to find his waist, as his freed hand finds hers. Neither head turns, but with arms round each other, their twinned bodies almost conjoin. He’ll feel her tuck herself into his shoulder, and he has no defense to that. He turns to embrace her fully, pulling her into a fervent hug, as her arms encircle him to do the same.

The two halves of R. Lutece will not be parted, now or ever.

They cling so fiercely it’d drive the air from mortal lungs—which for them is no matter. The tight, desperate, trembling breaths that threaten to spill over into sobs will be air enough. Each buries their face in the other’s neck, smothering themselves in one another. Her tears on his skin will make his eyes well up in turn. Their bodies crush together with full intent to merge, as though, like a cut deck of cards, they might seamlessly fold into one whole.

It might be years before either speaks. They find his voice first, though choked and soft. “A hypothesis—?”

“Later, for God’s sake.” Two pairs of lips will find one another. They kiss as if to save themselves from drowning.

In a decade or so—or mere minutes, it’s become so hard to tell, though they’d happily spend a decade in that kiss—he’ll try to speak again. Forehead to forehead, nose to matching nose, he murmurs, “You still don’t forgive me, do you.”

“I said I never would.”

“I deserve as much.” His smile sends tears spilling down his cheeks. “Tell me every day forever what a wretched fool I am. Only promise you’ll be with me, to say it to my face.”