#but it’s like layered over the english so you can hear what they’re actually saying too

[atomicradiogirl]

finally found the russian dub of house and i went straight to season 8 episode 21 to see if they changed wilson’s love confession and they DID. instead of “i need you to tell me you love me” wilson instead says (a rough translation) “i need you to tell me i’m dear to you” but then later when house says “i’m not telling you i love you” he actually says the word love. INTERESTING.

#house md #russian dub goes crazy #not surprising #but it’s like layered over the english so you can hear what they’re actually saying too #hilson #still endgame in the russian dub lol #house md season 8 episode 21 #james wilson #gregory house

[milaswriting]

Plans [a short story]

⇢ P’s past and what a potential future could look like with the MC.

Happy birthday to my favourite witch/warlock.

I think P started off as being very underrated and as the story progressed and I wrote more about them in drabbles etc., they’re probably much more of a fan favourite.

They’re intelligent, emotional, kind, suave, and everything you’d want in a friend… and a lover, especially if you plan to/are romancing them.

Hope you enjoy this short story for their birthday, do tell me what you think — [and pat me on the back for writing 1.5k words of this in a few hours yesterday].

Whilst there are some that are afraid of it, P has always found the future intriguing. Whether it comes from the magic flowing within them, or the urge to know what happens next in their lifetime, the future has always been a personal interest. Right from the start. If it wasn’t, they wouldn’t have left their small town, travelled, and made a large city their new home.

They initially had a plan, but that changed drastically, more than they could’ve ever imagined. The aim was to study, be, I don’t know, a teacher, or an architect maybe because they know their way around sketches and a paintbrush — but the supernatural world had other ideas. Not that P’s bothered by that. If it didn’t, they wouldn’t have met the other three people that would play such a huge part in their life, become their best friends, and mutually, their pain in the ass at the best of times.

And, technically, if their academic and planned out route had worked, it’s the possibility that they wouldn’t have met you.

So, small victories. Or very large ones, actually.

The witch/warlock bundles into your home, phone clutched between their ear and shoulder as they carry the rest of the bags in. You can hear their footsteps, the rustling of the bags, and then their soft, melodic voice comes next. They’re not talking in English, that’s easy enough to tell, so it’s obvious who they’re talking to. The language changes from Dutch to French with ease before they’re silent for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll think it over,” P murmurs before saying goodbye and ending the call.

You jump up and slip onto the kitchen counter to take a seat. “I can’t tell whether that was a stressful conversation or not,” you say, watching as P flashes you a smile and drops their phone and bags on the table.

“Hello to you too,” they greet cheerily. “I was talking to my dad.”

“I figured.” You raise an arm and use your hand to beckon P. Family has always been a topic that you feel you have to tread carefully on when you talk to P, they had a complex childhood to say the least, which isn’t all that common for magical beings from Europe. But it always feels like you’re peeling back a layer from the guards that P doesn’t realise they have up when they mention their family.

They’re Dutch and Belgian. An only child, something the others joke about and say that it’s why they’re terrible when it comes to sharing. Originally brunette, that came from their dad and his side of the family, their mum's the blonde one — which P clearly envies even though you’ve encouraged them to stop dying their hair for a little while. They’re considering it, they truly are, especially if it puts a smile on your face. Also grew up with a pet dog that they adored, much to their parents’ dismay because a magical child and an animal has its tendencies to cause chaos.

“Is he hoping that you’ll meet him in the Netherlands next month?” you ask P. They nod. “What’s stopping you?”

P’s gaze is downwards, their head tilts a little as they move to stand in between your legs and rest their hands on your thighs. “Nothing really.”

“Yet you’re not snapping up the opportunity. Why?”

They shrug before smiling. “Believe or not, I like it here.”

You snort. “Don’t let the big city rub off on you.” You gently tap your fingertips over their knuckles. “You think your dad’s going to try and make you stay if you go over to the Netherlands for a few days.”

It’s easy to pick up on P’s conversations sometimes. The tone of their voice, their facial expression when something isn’t going right.

“Not think, I know,” P sighs.

“Understandable,” you murmur, a statement that P arches a brow. “He’s pissed you fell in love with someone human.”

“That’s not true.”

“Hm, it totally is,” you say back. “Not that I mind, tell him I think his kid is a catch,” you say playfully with a wink, enough for a chuckle to fall from P’s mouth. They bring your hand up to their mouth and place a kiss on it — that’s something you’re used to as well.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that,” they mumble before their expression turns serious. “If I go on this trip, will you come?”

Your eyebrow arches. “Me, a human, come and meet a bunch of magical beings in a small town?”

“You handle my magic just fine.” You do, that’s clear. Even now, with a wave of P’s hand the bags on the table float into the kitchen and the contents begin arranging themselves in the correct drawers and cupboards.

“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re different.”

“Oh?”

“I’m used to it all. I live with you. I love you.”

Their eyes sparkle at your last three words. That’s an expression you’ve taken notice of more than once. The three words always seem to calm P in a stressful situation, just having affection returned has the ability to do that to them. You remember months ago when the two of you were lying on the sofa, your head in their lap as their fingers delicately ran up and down your arm, tracing aimless patterns as they murmured all the ways they fell in love with you.

You were both unbelievably tired, jobs in the supernatural world tend to do that to the body. P’s eyes were closed, they were speaking softly, letting the words roll off their tongue before you both fell asleep right there.

You remember what they said with ease.

“I’m used to falling for someone really fast, and before it ended up not working out. I changed my approach after that, tried falling gradually instead of all at once… I’m not sure it worked when I started liking you though. It just… happened. I couldn’t stop it, didn’t want it to, admittedly. It’s the best I’ve felt and even though we’re together, live together and everything, I still feel like that.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face that day, woke up with a smile too and P had asked why you were so cheerful, almost forgetting that they had spilled their heart out to you at 2am.

You’re brought back to the present when you rest your hands on P’s cheeks. “If your dad tries forcing you to stay and live in the Netherlands, I’ll fall out with him big time — I’m not joking.”

P chuckles. “I don’t think you are. Does that mean you’re coming if I go?”

“I’ll think it over,” you tease before pushing their shoulders back so you can slip off the counter. “I’m on the night shift today.”

P groans as you walk past them to go to your bedroom, they follow behind. “Did you ever actually think you’d get a job in the supernatural world?”

You snort. “Of course not,” you chuckle as you take a jacket off the hanger and slip it on. “No regrets though… well, only when I need to work stupid hours but it’s worth it. Most of the time.”

“Do you want me to wait up for you?” P asks. Dumb question. Whether you say yes or no, you know they will. You smile at them.

“I’m sure I’ll come in and see you on the sofa.”

“You’re not wrong,” P says with a casual nod as they hand you your backpack. “Be careful.”

“I always am.” You grin at their protectiveness.

“And call if you need anything.”

“I always will.”

P tugs you into them, the two of you sway a little, their forehead pressed against yours. “Will you stop off at that café down the road in the morning and get those pastries we like?” they mumble against your lips.

You roll your eyes as you take a step back. “I’m going.”

P lets out a hearty laugh as you leave your bedroom and move towards the front door. “Have a good night.”

“Uh-huh, you too,” you say back playfully, keys in the front door and you hear their voice again as you’re about to twist the handle.

“Check the front pocket of your bag, by the way.” You turn behind you, an eyebrow arched as you expect to see P still standing there, but they’re not. You do as they instructed, rummage through the front pocket and pull out a piece of paper. You stare down at it and chuckle.

Another sketch to add to the collection P randomly likes to draw for you.

Only this isn’t a drawing that’s from today. It’s the memory you recalled earlier, the two of you asleep on the sofa after P poured their heart out to you; and below it is their neat handwriting.

‘I love you — don’t forget the pastries’.

#p martens #drabble

[becameundone]

( nakamoto yuta. cis man. he/him. bisexual. ) ⇝ hey, isn’t that tomo katsumura? i think that the twenty-eight year old from los angeles, usa works as a film actor (currently transitioning to stage work at the single carrot theatre), but outside of that people describe them as dancing cigarette smoke illuminated by flashing city lights; neon rays in red and blue; the glow of an old tv set in a dark room; bottles of fizz and bags of shimmer; the rattling chime of silver jewellery. i hear they are erratic & impulsive, but they are also known to be charming & energetic. consider giving them a visit at their home in the marionette and get to know why they’re called the burnt-out star.

TW: drugs & alcohol, car crashes, mental health issues (incl. suggestions of derealisation), stalking, parental death/suicide

FAIR WARNING BEFORE WE GET ANY FURTHER. This is a NOT a brief, snappy post (it's almost 3k words). Maybe I could have tried a little harder to write a more concise summary but I really have a lot to say about Tomo. He's my favourite OC! (Also, I feel like there's a lot in this backstory that it felt wrong to just gloss over, if I want anyone to believe I'm trying to be at all sensitive.)

BASICS.

Tomo's full name is actually Tomoaki Katsumura (勝村智秋) but he prefers to go by Tomo Katsumura (勝村智). Pretty much the only person allowed to call him Tomoaki is his grandma. He also doesn't really take well to nicknames unless they're approved by him. He just really feel like Tomo is his name 100%.

Also, he's besties with Min! They originally met in London before both separately winding up in Anchorage (coincidences, eh??) and becoming very close. There's more detail about this in Min's intro!

He speaks both English and Japanese fluently, and doesn't really consider one to be his native tongue over the other. He's been entirely bilingual his whole life and spent large chunks of his childhood living in Osaka, Japan with his grandmother. He has been known to use Osaka-ben (dialect) when speaking Japanese. For a variety of reasons, Tomo also attended middle school/junior high in Osaka.

For the most part, Tomo’s a friendly and energetic guy! When he’s at his best, he’s great company. He likes to stand out in a crowd, has a winning smile and enjoys attention but also knows when to step back and look out for other people.

He’s kind of an emotional wreck. He does his best not to show it on the surface and the whole…being a good actor thing probably helps with that but, beneath the top layers of Sparkly Glam Tomo, shit’s all scrambled up. He doesn’t really know what to make of himself. Acting and having friends present are the only things, he believes, keeping him grounded and together.

Yet he’s pretty good at pretending shit’s fine, he’s still weirdly positive for a guy who feels all messed up — maybe he gets away with it because he’s a good actor. He’s the kind of guy who can have a full-on breakdown in his room by himself and then just reappear & ask you if you wanna go for ice cream because, hey, he’s bored. Basically, OKAY, that’s done with, that already happened. It’s OVER.

He doesn’t like crying in front of people which is rough bc he’s emotional ALL the time. He’s a total crybaby when he’s drunk. If you drink with him, there WILL be a point at which you have to scoop him up off the floor because he’s found something over which to start weeping. OR he’ll end up calling you to panic about how he can’t find his way home, only for him to realise like 5 minutes later he’s phoning you from the steps outside his apartment building.

He doesn’t like dating because…well, he likes the IDEA of it but he’s the type to really fall for someone and BASICALLY? He’s scared of being dumped! He’s a bright & appealing personality with just enough edge to balance it out but he’s a bit of an emotional screwball and he feels like getting people interested is easier than keeping them interested, leading to mixed experiences with dating so he’s…kinda…settled for sleeping around a little instead. Oh well, whatever works! (does it actually work? shhhh it’s a secret…)

Tomo is a competent singer. This is because, growing up, his mother made him take singing lessons in the hopes that he might follow in her idol footsteps. He was not in the least bit interested but it was fun enough for him not to complain about it (not that it would’ve helped).

He’s not very good at watching himself in films. It depends on the film and he can do it but uhhhh let’s just say he once watched the one horror film he was in at the cinema (and didn’t like most of it bc he’s a wuss about that sort of thing) but he laughed during his own death scene. There were tears in his eyes. Real tears.

He’s very much involved in the party scene, whatever country he’s in. it’s not something he talks about much (privately, i mean, bc DUH he doesn’t say it publicly) but he doesn’t exactly avoid drugs in anyway. It's all pretty casual and he only really does it at parties but he has been known to do coke and ecstasy and other stimulants. Will NOT touch weed. Don't ask. He does smoke cigarettes though and he’s a little dependent on that.

I guess he got involved in that kinda thing deliberately because he wants to distance himself from the clean-cut, shiny heartthrob pretty boy image as much as possible. Eventually, it just became a natural way of de-stressing and dealing with the constant frustration of his career. The unfortunate consequence of that is that he’s now got a bit of a Bad Boy/Wild Child image and he’s not entirely sure he likes that either. (The shift in image also means that some journalists will talk about him as though he’s ‘gone off the rails’ and, yeah, he hates that as well.)

BACKSTORY & EARLY CAREER

Tomo was the centre of scandals from Day One; born to a young American actor and a Japanese pop idol, he was the catalyst for his parents' shotgun marriage. Their marriage would only last about a decade with the pair divorcing when Tomo was around ten years old and his mother winning primary custody.

His mother, Mitsuko Furuya, was born in Japan and debuted as an idol in her teens. She was successful enough for her company to drag her abroad, just to test the waters. It was here that she fell for Ken Katsumura. Her pregnancy ended her career for several years and she would not return to the spotlight until Tomo was a teenager. Her relationship with Tomo is strained and they can't see eye to eye. She tried to push Tomo to follow her footsteps as a pop idol from a young age but he was only interested in acting.

His father, Ken Katsumura, was an actor-turned-director. He was a troubled person and an absent husband who put his work first, and this led to Mitsuko filing for divorce some years into their marriage. That, and the final admission that their early infatuation hadn't been love and their marriage had been for convenience all along. He poured himself further into his work while his mental health continued to deteriorate, falling into depression and alcoholism, and eventually killed himself at the age of 36. Tomo was thirteen years old at the time.

Tomo moved about a lot growing up, specifically back and forth between LA and Osaka (where his mother's family lived). He also lived in Japan and attended school there between the ages of 10 and 13. His mother had taken the divorce as an opportunity to return home and revive her career, focusing now on becoming a TV personality. During this time, he lived with his grandmother in Osaka while his mother was busy in Tokyo. They moved back to the States following his father's death.

He started acting professionally when he was sixteen, mostly with a few smaller TV roles but he had good connections and was able to get a small but still substantial role in the film directed by a friend of his dad. His big break, however, came at age 18 when he landed a leaded a role in the main cast of high school drama.

It was exciting at first, being on TV and being famous, but he soon found hated both the show and his character so the whole thing got tired fast. One of his biggest issues with the tv show was that he didn’t like being sold as a product / character that wasn’t anything like him, being shown off as this squeaky clean teen heartthrob type and not being allowed to have his own emotions & tastes.

His contract prevented him from quitting when he liked (and the writers were ‘stubbornly’ unwilling to kill his character off; he thought it’d be fun to act out) and he was signed on for a third season of the show. Tomo decided he might as well take things into his own hands went out of his way to get himself fired. It was his first act of public rebellion and, by design, his first criminal offence. He was twenty years old when he staged his own arrest for DUI. Being a minor, he didn’t need to drink much to get in trouble and he wasn’t drunk at the time. In order to ensure hje was noticed, Tomo drove his car into a tree, The crash awarded him with a broken arm and a suspended license but, more importantly, it got him fired.

However, the solution to one problem was the direct cause of countless others. He continued to take what roles he could, swearing off television entirely, but the opportunities were slim. His DUI stunt had scared off any producers that might have offered him clean, inoffensive work off the back of his breakout role and that very same role meant he was overlooked by more serious directors; he was simultaneously too dirty and too clean. The media had gotten hold of his story too, twisting it into the sort of drama that assured the public would see him as just another child actor gone wrong.

LATER CAREER

Tomo was twenty-two when he finally moved back to Japan, aiming to become an actor there instead. It was his way of leaving Hollywood behind and recreating himself anew, aided of course by his existing acting credits and (although he was not proud of it) a few connections provided by his mother. And it worked. In less than a year, they'd made a star of him. He'd even go on to win awards including Japan Academy’s Newcomer of the Year and Blue Ribbon’s Best Newcomer. He'd become a heartthrob again, and for real this time, but the work he was being offered was serious and compelling. Somehow, his risk-taking had paid off.

He would continue like this for the next few years. His relationship with his mother would continue to worsen as his career outshined hers to the point that people stopped asking him about her in interviews. He dove headfirst into Tokyo's clubbing culture, getting drunk and doing drugs and sleeping around behind close doors, away from the prying eyes of gossip rags. It was a careful balancing act; any hint at all of how he behaved was enough to destroy a career in Japan beyond all hope of repair. There was a clear divide between the Public and the Private and it was started to break cracks in Tomo's mind. Who was he really? Was the Public Tomo just another role but one he was forced to play as long as he lived?

Then, the stalker made themselves known. It was subtle at first, no different from other boundary breaking fans of that ilk; phone calls from strange numbers and doorbells rung at night. Tomo moved to a new apartment and the problems went away. At first. Then, the letters came. He stopped reading them early on. But then a package came and curiosity took over. Photographs. Photographs of Tomo. At first they were fairly ordinary pictures of Tomo in his private time. Unsettling, sure, but his team told him to ignore it. Then there were new photographs. Photographs that could ruin his career if they fell into the wrong hands. A letter that chastised him for ignoring the writer, threatened him if he continued to be so 'cold and distant'. The letters before had been just as overfamiliar, as though addressing a friend or some unreliable lover, and with the same level of accuracy and detail. Another letter came a few days later; they were just kidding, they just wanted to spook him. They liked sharing secrets with him. Sometimes they wouldn't send a letter at all, just an envelope containing a single photograph. Snorting coke. Kissing boys. The kinds of things a heartthrob shouldn't be doing.

This pushed an already on edge Tomo to his limits; if a total stranger could know all this about him, was he a real person at all? Or was he just some exciting character to be consumed by the public? Was the private life he'd thought so hard to keep hidden just a plot twist waiting to be revealed? He grew paranoid. Agitated. Couldn't sleep. Got a little too high every time. Every wrong move could be used against him. The stalker could be anywhere and they could be anyone. Those around him noticed the change in Tomo's behaviour but, because it was easier not to rock the boat, they left it alone. The only person willing to express concern was the stalker. You're not sleeping enough, their letters would say, you're not eating properly. Only one person cared about him and he was afraid of them.

It all came to a head a months later. Late 2021. A movie premiere. Tomo was the star, stood next to the director himself, and basking in the light of camera flashes. A sign in the audience caught his eye. It was handwritten; the words written there were benign enough but the handwriting was familiar. Tomo had seen it again and again and again. His head spun. The audience were gone to him, the cameras were non existent. All he could see was that bright red cardboard sign. Before it was even his turn to speak, he leaned into the microphone and said in a low, clear voice, 'Get away from me. Leave me the fuck alone." When they tried to take the microphone from him and his manager stepped in, it quickly escalated into yelling and snapping. He thrust a finger in the stalker's direction, his voice thick with agitation as he demanded his manager look at the sign. Look at the big red sign. But, when Tomo looked to see where he was pointing, there was no sign in sight. He didn't notice the tears streaming down his cheeks until they started dripping from his chin.

The rumours were quick to start swirling; had Tomo Katsumura lost his mind? Then came the rumours that he was doing drugs, that people had seen him around clubs and the like. There was no evidence, of course, and these were only the whisperings of ordinary people so there was no danger of people knowing whether or not that was true but his reputation had taken a hit. His agency's reputation was damaged too, as their ability to take care of their talent's mental health was thrown into question. Tomo's team advised him to lay low for a while until it all blew over and everyone forgot about his strange behaviour over the last little while. It came like a slap to the face. Acting was the only thing that kept Tomo grounded. He needed it. But they gave him a clear ultimatum; take the hiatus or else we'll drop you. It was his manger who suggested he go back to America and rest a while.

He returned to Los Angeles with his tail between his legs but still he managed to swallow his pride and go back to his mother's place. He didn't have his own place to stay anymore so, although he dreaded the lectures he'd get for making a mess of his career, he sucked it up and went home. There was no lecture; what ensued instead was the worst argument they'd ever had. He tries to stay with his manager, who'd gone back to LA with him, for a while but he feels no safer in Hollywood than he did in Tokyo. His fame still haunts him like a spectre, sucking him dry. On an impulse, he leaves. He runs off to Anchorage, figuring it's far away enough from everything else that he might finally find peace for a while. The only person he tells is his manager, who returns to Japan, and they both swear to keep his location strictly secret.

CURRENT LIFE

For the most part, Tomo is living off his existing earnings. Royalties from existing work, from modelling and brand deals he'd been allowed to maintain during his hiatus. It's a boring way to live, especially for someone with so much energy and such a consuming need to keep busy, but it's better than living each day just moments from falling apart. You'd think living in a place like Anchorage would ensure he still felt unsafe and, honestly, it does! But it's different. He's not being targeted. Nobody's putting the spotlight on him. If he were to die here, he'd just be the same kind of dead nobody as everybody else.

Recently, he's started helping out at the Single Carrot Theatre. He doesn't work there officially but he likes to volunteer to help with backstage stuff, just as an excuse to hang around. He's not sure it's a good idea for him to return to acting just yet, doubts it's a good idea to put him into some character's headspace when he's not even sure he's really in his own, and theatre isn't the same as film but he wants to stay as close to the thing he loves most as he can. It's not unusual to find him hanging around there, even if he's just wasting time.

Otherwise, he's still very involved in Anchorage's nightlife. Naturally dazzling, it's easy for him to be life of any party. All things considered, Tomo's still a bit of an attention seeker.

#« ᴛ ᴏ ᴍ ᴏ » / 「 intro. 」 #anchorintro #i'll make a pinned post once i've written min's intro! it'll be shorter i promise ASDFG #some heavy topics in this one so please be aware of that #hopefully this all sounds sensible and makes sense!! i always worry way too much about my intros ASDFGHGF TT___TT

[undertale-data]

[Image Description: An Undertale chat box that has “WHY FANS LOVE UNDERTALE” at its center. Next to it are a line chart and an Egg from the Dating Hub on its left, and a CRIME measurer (also from the Dating Hub) on its right. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a pie chart titled, “LEVEL OF LOVE FOR UNDERTALE.” The textbox on the top right reads, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the least and 10 being the highest, how much do fans enjoy Undertale?” From the top going clockwise, 12 or 0% chose 5 and below; 23 or 1% chose 6; 98, or 4%, chose 7; 325, or 12%, chose 8; 529, or 20%, chose 9; and 1664, or 63%, chose 10. End I.D.]

It’s clear from all of the data analyzed so far that fans who took the time to answer our survey love Undertale. It is unlikely that they would have taken the time to answer so many questions if they had not, and even less likely that they would have come across our survey in the first place. Naturally, it comes as no surprise that 63% of our responders gave their love for Undertale a score of ten out of ten. 95% gave their love for Undertale a score of eight or higher, and only 12 responders responded with five or below, a number so small that their responses had to be lumped together to be visible on the pie chart. Of those, only 3 responders gave their love for Undertale a score of 1, and based on those responders’ other answers, it is likely that they were only intending to troll. We are very fortunate that the vast majority of responders took the survey seriously, enough so that responses like this are barely a blip in the data.

Now, for our final analysis post of the event, we will delve into the reasons that fans love Undertale so dearly.

(Essay and highlights under the cut.)

There have been countless essays on the impact that Undertale has had on people’s lives. I can hardly add more on the subject than what has already been said, but I hope this summary can provide a brief overview of what stood out among the over two thousand answers given in response to this survey. That said, due to the sheer volume of answers, I could not read every single one in depth—however, I did skim all of them, and some that stood out or were representative of several responses have been highlighted below. If you would like to see what every fan who consented to share their response had to say, you may view the full list of responses here. Note that these responses have not been edited in any way. This document may take a long time to load, as it is over 100 pages long.

(Warnings for mentions of suicidal thoughts in the following essay.)

Several responders loved the theme of choices mattering in Undertale. Whether people played the pacifist, merciless, or neutral routes, they enjoyed how the game reacted to their actions. For some, it even made them consider their own morality. One touching response explained the impact that the theme of mercy made on them. “I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.” Many fans left similar comments about how the themes of Undertale made them better people.

Undertale changed how its fans treat others, and it also changed how fans treat themselves. The theme of staying determined and the messages of hope in the game were a light to a very large portion of fans. I cannot list all of the fans who said that Undertale helped them out of a dark place, or that they would not be alive if not for Undertale. “DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.”

Undertale brought fans together in unexpected ways. Some said they met friends or significant others through the fandom. “I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale,” one fan said. A different fan who is non-native English speaking mentioned that the game and the fan community helped them to learn English.

It would be impossible to discuss Undertale without mentioning the fan community. Whether for good or bad, many responders mentioned the fandom in their responses. Overall the feelings towards the fandom seem positive, though many made references to “toxic” parts of the fandom without specifying which parts they consider toxic. Others rejected the idea of toxicity in fandom. One response said: “[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!”

One thing that makes the Undertale fandom unique is the way it embraces various AUs. Some fans are tired of AU content, but the majority of responses show a love for the creativity behind AUs. “Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.” The lack of a judgemental atmosphere seems present in the AU community, according to the responses we saw. There is an interesting balance between AU and canon (sometimes referred to as “classic”) content that another responder pointed out: “The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertale fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)”

Regardless of the many AUs the fandom has created over the years, the original game of Undertale still feels like home for many fans. They wished they could reclaim the feeling of playing the game again for the first time, but even though we can’t reset time in real life, there is still a special feeling for fans each time they play Undertale. One fan said, “Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.” This feeling is one that can be cherished time and time again. In the words of another responder: “It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it.” Others pointed out the strength of the found family trope in Undertale, which likely contributes to this feeling of “home” as well.

As mentioned briefly earlier, the music is part of what makes Undertale feel like home for fans. Even when responses focused on other aspects of the game, many would throw in a comment about the soundtrack at the end. One comment focused on the music said “IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.” Like with the game itself, the music has incredible replay value, an amazing feat considering most of the tracks use the same few motifs. “I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story,” another responder said. “They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.”

If the music sticks with fans in their hearts, then the game’s lore sticks with fans in their minds. Even six years after the release of Undertale, fans are still creating new theories and digging up new secrets. The way the game breaks the fourth wall in particular intrigued many fans and has stuck out through all these years. The awareness that the game shows for the RPG genre makes it memorable. The game plays with the player’s expectations and turns them on their heads, all while reminding the player that they’re in a game. There are few other games that do this on such a large scale, so it’s no surprise that fans cite this as one of their favorite things about Undertale.

Lastly, the LGBT+ representation in Undertale has been a huge draw for fans. Especially in 2015, the sheer volume of non-cishet characters was unprecedented, as one fan pointed out: “It's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. Hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. It's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.” The LGBT+ cast including Frisk, Chara, Napstablook, Monster Kid, Mettaton, Alphys, and Undyne each connected with fans in unique ways. It’s clear how important this is from responses such as: “There are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.” “It made me gay and trans so thanks for that.”

Once again I am overwhelmed with just how much there is to say about Undertale. One responder really understood when they compared Undertale to an iceberg, explaining that there are so many layers to the game that there is something for everyone: “everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans—from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers—is the mark of the coolest games!” I would have to agree with them.

It’s been six years, and despite everything, it’s still you. Thank you for reading, participating in this survey, and above all, staying determined.

Highlights:

DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.

I think the coolest thing was having the opportunity to watch the AU community grow from its bare roots. It's nearly insane how big and complex it's gotten, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.

i love how the lgbt rep is so naturalized... there are just gay people! and its nobodys business!

The music is my go to answer, but what I really really REALLY love is how the minor characters have so much personality to them when you talk to them. They aren't incredibly important to the overall story, but they're all so likeable and diverse that you just can't help but like them immediately!

I think it was the first videogame I have played that broke the fourth wall that much. Of course there has been other videogames that broke it but just for one or two tongue-in-cheek jokes. The guilt of killing mama goat was also something intense as well that I appreciated as an experience and that I didn't think a videogame could cause on someone.

I love how no character can be seen as completely bad! Everyone builds up Asgore as some horrible villain, but he turns out to be a 'fuzzy pushover' who's broken and just wants his family back by the time you meet him. Then you think Flowey's an irredeemable killer who engineered the suffering of the monsters across many timelines, and he is... but he also used to be the kind and beloved Prince Asriel Dreemurr, traumatized by his death and subsequent rebirth, projecting his best friend onto you.

The fact that choices matter in the game. Your first playthrough and getting the golden ending for the first time. I can never replicate those feelings again, wish I could erase my memories and replay the game from the start.

I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale.

(Toxic parts of the fandom aside) The community is possibly one of the kindest I've ever met. Cringe culture is completely dead, and I feel like I can be myself. I felt a very close connection to many of the characters, and I loved consuming content about them when I was in a rough patch in my life.

just everything, the whole game has just impacted my life so much. i know it sounds really lame, but when the game first came out, i would purposely put my hands in my pockets and sway slightly, like sans' idle animation. of course i dont do that anymore haha, but undertale still really impacts me to this day, and i wouldnt have it any other way :)

it made me gay and trans so thanks for that

I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.

The thing I love most about Undertale is no matter how many times I play or watch a playthrough it always makes me genuinely happy. It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it. Toriel still makes me feel all warm and cozy in her home, the Skelebros always make me laugh, and I still cry on the inside watching Frisk comforting Asriel. And on the flip side the No Mercy run still invokes the negative emotions in me as well. In short Undertale just feels like a second home to me and I always wish I could stay.

The reader inserts are my favorite way to decompress after a hard day

I think Undertale helped me discover my love for 8-bit games, and made me realize how IMPORTANT music is in video games.

the worldbuilding and character design are my favorite parts of the main game apart from the music! I’m also a huge fan of the random AU music- not for like underswap or underfell i like the stuff where someone makes a megalovania for a random au where gru from despicable me replaces sans as the character. i think its funny

Just... the vibe, honestly? Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.

there are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.

[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!

There's a scene where Frisk (the player) is going towards what is presumably going to be their death. They will fight Asgore and he will use their human soul to break the barrier and free his people. The music, despite the player's impending doom, is... triumphant. You are not the triumphant one here, and yet, the score invites you to experience the monsters' joy and happiness as they tell you the tale of their subjugation. The monsters are going to be free. This is their victory, but they don't hate you or want you to die. They're just... happy. That scene has always struck me very deeply. I feel it represents the best parts of Undertale.

I loved how well thought out the Geno route was. It really made me feel like I was doing something horrible, and the characters were very obviously reacting to dire circumstances.

I dunno? I like Undertale for it's characters, story, music, secrets and many more. I am not good with Headcanons but I also like the neutral endings and how different they can depending on who you spare and kill

I was very bad at english before, i thought i couldn't progress because i was very shy and not confident. But my sibling and i wanted to have the best experience with this game so we wanted to play it in english. It's this game and the fandom which helped me to make huge progress in english !

THE SOUNDTRACK. IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.

to avoid writing an essay i will say one word. Mettaton

It is like Toby specifically made the games to fit the iceberg meme and it's awesome, everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans - from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers is the mark of the coolest games!

I love almost everything about Undertale as a game on its own. The music, the art and especially the characters and how they interact. They made me feel at home. Undertale means a huge amount to me. (I even got a tattoo of the castle when you and MK walk together!) The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertake fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)

the mystery. toby fox refused to give answers to anything and i think thats very sexy of him.

I just feel guilty for liking it so much when I'm in my 30's. But I recently got diagnosed with ASD, so I guess it explains things a bit. Many ppl consider Papyrus to be neurodivergent, and some adult fans are too, so seeing that makes me feel a bit better.

i think about "Despite everything, it's still you" everyday of my life.

I like how it's just as funny as it can be serious. All routes are this way. I laughed as much as I cried when I played the Pacifist route and then once I opened the game again and Flowey was telling me to let them be happy, I immediately turned off the game. I somehow felt bad.

The Found Family Trope

The True Pacifist Ending is just...man. And the fanworks about saving everyone even when the game doesn't let you? MANNNNNN

I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story. They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.

there's honestly a LOT to love about this game, but i think one of my favorite things about it is just how many lgbt+ characters there are??? i can think of alphys, undyne, frisk, chara, mettaton, napstablook, monster kid, asgore, mad mew mew, the dress lion, the royal guards, and arguably even papyrus off of the top of my head, but im sure i'm forgetting a few from just undertale alone (there's even MORE in deltarune)!! it's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. it's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.

[Image description: A wordcloud in the shape of the capitalized word UNDERTALE. The text is white on a black background, and uses the font found in the game. Some of the most visible words are: Game, Love, Music, Life, AU, Store, Friend, and Feel, which represent the most common words in the essays people wrote about their love for the game. End of ID]

#undertale #analysis #results #undertale fandom census

[lifeofclonewars]

Fives and Echo in Clone Cadets

Okay, buckle in if you're gonna read this. I'm an English major and you can tell bc this started out as a quick rant with a few points in my head at midnight and turned into a full analytical essay on the Domino Twins throughout the entirety of Clone Cadets in one sitting plus some next-day editing. What can I say, I analyze everything I watch even when I'm not consciously doing so. Some pictures and links included.

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I get the whole “Fives and Echo weren't close until after Rishi” thing because of the poetic-ness of the narrative of brothers who aren't close going through trauma and coming out of it stronger and as best friends all that but listen to what I have to say.

We’ll start chronologically: with their final run-through before the finals. As you may know, I made a list (here) of who argues with whom during Clone Cadets. The other three constantly nag Echo about his habit of repeating things. Hevy and Cutup both call Echo, well, Echo but before he accepts it as a name and more as an insult. Cutup’s the first one to do it, literally almost right off the bat. Hevy does it to purposefully pick a fight after the practice test. DB responds to Echo's “stop calling me that” with “stop repeating every order.” 

Fives argues a bit with the rest of Domino when they're all arguing, but he only says one negative thing toward Echo. But there are so many things that make it different from the things aimed at Echo from the rest of the squad.

He tells him “Will you shut up with instructions? You're not in charge.” Domino’s nagging Echo about the repeating, Fives... doesn't quite do that. The narrative makes it look like Fives is also mad about the repeating orders, given both DB and Cutup have at this point. However, what Fives says doesn't make a direct reference to Echo’s habit, at least. He's definitely frustrated here (they all are, they’re failing again), but, at least to me, he's frustrated because Echo's focused more on getting them to follow exact orders instead of moving forward or working together. And yeah, he snaps a bit while reminding Echo he's not squad leader and not focusing on the right thing. But he never mentions the echoing, and, after this one moment, he never makes a negative comment toward Echo again during Clone Cadets. Also, important to note, Echo wasn’t repeating orders or anything when Fives snapped at him, just saying they’re not following orders again (which is different).

So, basically: everyone’s arguing about everything. Everyone argues with Echo about various things. Fives is the only one that doesn’t go and make a comment about Echo’s repeating during it, though.

That signifies something. Fives has got a better understanding or acceptance or trust in Echo than the rest of Domino. He doesn't mock him for what makes him him. He gets why Echo does it, maybe. Even if he doesn't, he knows it helps Echo and that Echo repeating orders is his way of trying to help his brothers. And this comes into play at a point farther along in the episode that we’ll get to soon. 

Next comes the, like, one moment we see the clones have some downtime. It’s when, once again, they start arguing. Despite DB being the one to tell Echo “stop repeating every order” during the run-through, we see them getting along here. We see them chatting with each other and 99 very briefly when Fives' gives his “you never even met a girl” line and Hevy comes barging in. Hevy insults 99, Echo tells the squad to follow orders, an argument starts, yada yada.

Then, Hevy gives his “care to repeat that, Echo?” line, which I mentioned earlier as Hevy doing it to purposefully pick a fight. When they start to fight, we hear the other members of Domino start cheering Hevy on. One says “Come on. Get him, Hevy!” The other says, “Smack that know-it-all.”

Here’s the thing, though. They show a shot of DB, Cutup, and Fives. Cutup can be seen pumping his fist but his accent isn’t heard. There are two voices speaking, but they’re layered on top of each other so it’s hard to tell who’s speaking and how many people are speaking if you aren’t paying attention. Together, this comes out to look like Fives and DB could be the ones talking, and Cutup’s not actually speaking. 

However, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, Cutup’s accent drops in and out all throughout Clone Cadets. Especially during impromptu moments. With this, it is also possible to conclude that he is speaking during the fight, just without a different accent, especially since he’s pumping his fist. 

That leaves Fives or Droidbait as the other person speaking. As you can see, both of them seem to be watching. Now, you could argue that Fives is the one who said something. You can argue the DB is the one who said something. Since they’re showing the fight when the lines overlap (the “Get him” one starting about a second earlier), there’s no conclusive evidence for either. For the point of this argument, you can’t argue that it proves Fives and Echo were close, you can’t argue that it proves they weren’t.

Following that comes Colt’s speech before the final. As I’ve noted multiple times, nobody in Domino is happy with Echo the first time he makes a comment.

Going back and watching it happen in time reveals a bit more, though. They’ve all got facial expressions kinda similar to it when it cuts back to them after Colt speaks. Echo says “thinks he means us, boys?” Hevy seems to be the only one truly angry about the comment. The other three seem to be more of “what are you talking about, you know we’re not that great.” Plus, you know, they’re all nervous about their final. Even more so with how they didn’t make it through the day before. (Here’s a link if you wanna see it for yourself. 0:45; it’s all quick reactions, but you can see what I mean)

(Hmm so maybe I was wrong about that screenshot before. Go figure. There’s a reason screenshots aren’t always completely reliable sources for shows, since none of what I just talked about is visible in a standstill moment. This is why I’ve rewatched Clone Cadets 48209832 times. I’m still picking up new things about Domino while doing it.)

When Echo says, “well bravo for Bravo Squad,” some other things happen. Firstly, Echo’s rolling his eyes. He’s either being flippant about Bravo or he’s being self-aware enough to know it’s a bad pun and that his brothers don’t like his comments. But Fives actually looks over, concerned, when he makes the comment.

That definitely counts for something. Especially since the other three don’t look very concerned about how Echo’s feeling with the comments. (Hevy’s definitely not looking over here.) But Fives seems to be wondering how anxious Echo’s feeling or something along those lines and how Echo’s expressing it. Especially since Echo doesn’t purposely pick fights like Hevy. He’s just making comments that happen to aggravate the Squad more than he’s usually trying to use as his way of showing he cares about his brothers and how well they perform.

After that comes their first run of the final. And with it comes a moment I love so much. Echo’s standing at one of the cover blocks when Fives runs up to him. Not only does this happen, but Echo smiles so much at seeing his brother do so.

He’s just! So happy that Fives is there. I love that. Anyway, Fives tells him, “you flank right, I’ll flank left.” Then comes Echo’s lil pun moment. Fives rolls his eyes, but he looks more fond but exasperated than truly annoyed. 

Right after that, Fives runs off again. Which means he took Echo’s comment about staying on the same side and went with it, even though that wasn’t his initial plan. He’s trusting in Echo’s combat planning there. After DB gets shot down, we can actually see this happen as they meet Hevy at another one of the blocks. They come from the same side, Fives, then Echo. So, it worked out successfully.

When Colt tells them they failed not too long after that, another thing happens! Fives and Echo share a look. They didn’t have to — Hevy was behind Fives and Cutup was in front of Echo. They could’ve shared a look with them. But they didn’t. It’s definitely an “oh crap” kind of look they share with each other. Something that’s usually shared with those your closer to in situations like that, ya know?

“But wait!” you might say. “These are mostly examples of Fives being a good brother than of them being close.” Well, that’s where Echo and Fives talking to Shaak Ti about transferring squads comes into play! Of course, since I’m going chronologically, it’s not the immediate next point on this, but it happens during this conversation.

The two of them talking to her is a pretty big deal, especially since constantly up to that point we see Echo not getting along with the squad. He definitely wouldn't do it with Hevy, who he fights with most. Cutup and Echo don't fight as much as Echo and Hevy but we don't see them actually talk to each other besides whenever they do the sim, right before the second final, and Rishi. And Rishi is Hevy and Cutup making fun of Echo a bit. (Main difference then is that they do understand each other better to some degree and it doesn't escalate like it once might've.) DB, I touched on some points earlier. 

But there’s a reason it’s Echo and Fives here, and it’s more than just Fives fighting with him less.

When they talk to Shaak Ti Fives trusts Echo to do the talking for them (he only speaks up twice with small comments then). While it’s a short conversation, most of the talking is done by Echo. The duo most likely had a conversation beforehand about what they were asking and why. While we don’t know who asked the other if they wanted to do it, they’re both there, and Fives trusted Echo and his memory and ability to repeat the points they wanted to make. It's the exact opposite of what the squad has been doing. Instead of mocking the repetition, he gives Echo a chance to do it without judgment and as a positive thing.

Echo also goes on to do some things that show it’s not just Fives being a good brother, it goes both ways with them. 

There are only two instances where we see Echo touch someone. One is when he fights with Hevy (and Hevy starts it). The other instance is with Fives, during this talk. The two of them had been standing at parade rest and Echo — who's whole thing as a cadet is following orders — breaks it to set a comforting hand on Fives' shoulder! 

He's the one to do it! Echo’s the one that takes the opportunity to comfort Fives and Fives doesn’t shy away from it. And not only did he recognize what Fives was feeling, but he also acted on it. They know each other well enough at this point to understand each other’s emotions and how to react to them accordingly.

And it's not like the other clones don't nudge and pat each other on the back and whatnot. Hevy pats 99 on the head (condescendingly smh Hevy you know better but whatever that's not the point).Both Fives and DB nudge Cutup for a comment he makes.

Echo just... doesn't do it during Clone Cadets. (I will point out he gives 99 a light excited punch on the shoulder during Arc Troopers — but that's after he's been with Torrent and trusts 99 even more than he did on Kamino for helping Hevy out) But he does voluntarily set a hand on Fives' shoulder. He’s comfortable enough with Fives to do it when we don’t see him do it with the rest of Domino or even 99.

Also, we all know Fives smacks some of his brothers, we've all seen that post by now. But he never does it with Echo. Instead, he lets Echo do what he's comfortable with. I just think that's important to note.

There’re also multiple times in this scene where they share looks while they’re speaking or when Shaak Ti says something. If you watch Arc Troopers or the first half of the Citadel Arc, even some parts of Rookies, Fives and Echo have a lot of nonverbal communication. This is just planting the seeds for that.

This scene can also be used for some “Fives and Echo aren’t that close” arguments, especially if you go with the “they are literal twins” hc. The whole “they wanted to stick together because they were twins, not necessarily because they got along better” argument. There are some other points here, like the fact that Fives did say something rude to Echo, or that Fives was talking to Cutup in their downtime and Echo with DB.

The thing is, with these things I've talked about, it shows that they were close on Kamino, regardless of that hc. I highly doubt LF and Filoni actually write them as twins (they probably would've mentioned it by now if they were). So while I personally like to take some of these things as them being twins, mostly they just show that either way, they were close. And the points Echo makes while asking Shaak Ti come into play as well.

Echo states, “Which is why Fives and I are looking out for each other,” when told that the clones, like the Jedi, have individuals and the group be one and the same. He makes it a clear point that they’re looking out for each other, that they’re trying to make the decision they think is best for the other. That’s! A big deal and sign that they’re close, if you ask me. 

Right at the end of the scene, Fives once again shows his trust in Echo. After hearing that they’ve been given another shot at the final, he looks skeptical. What does he do right after? Look at Echo. He didn’t need to, he could’ve stared at the wall, ground, given Shaak’s back a funny look. But he looks to his brother for comfort again. And we see Echo look back at him, doing so, right as it transitions to Cutup’s scene.

(“Wow this is really long, you must be obsessed with Domino Squad,” you might also say. That would be correct lol. We’re almost done, though.)

The next time we see either of them is when they think Hevy hasn’t shown up but then does. This is a nice little moment. Domino must’ve had a conversation or something because Cutup, DB, Fives, and Echo seem to be more at ease beside the whole missing Hevy thing. I should write that conversation someday. Echo even repeats what Fives said and nobody makes a comment about it.

Hevy eventually surprises everyone with his dramatic entrance and marches through their bench area to head to the simulation room. After that, the three of them turn and look at Echo, who shrugs. Not really a moment between Echo and Fives and more about the whole squad, but it’s there. Domino’s getting along better as a whole, matching more of what the dynamic between those two has been the entire time. 

And finally, the second final. Like how the practice test is slightly focused on Echo’s comments and the reactions to it, this one’s focused on Hevy being the natural leader he is. Also, just, Domino Working Together.

When they take cover in the little slit thingies, Fives and Echo take cover in the same one. Part of it was probably which one was closest. Part of it definitely was production trying to make it easier to fit more of them in the same frame there. But also, it says something about how they trust and understand each other on the battlefield. Partially from growing up training together, partially they've got the trust and understanding the whole squad is just finally starting to get within the rest of their dynamics. 

The only scene in this whole episode I don’t know who’s who is during the medal scene. If we base it on where Hevy stands, Echo and Cutup are the ones to talk. However, the second clone doesn’t have Cutup’s accent and it’s not one of those situations that Cutup tends to drop his accent. So I’m not really sure, other than that Domino is very clearly all proud of each other. I’m not really sure why I wrote this paragraph then… aNyWaY, that’s the episode!

TL;DR Throughout the episode, the Domino Twins show multiple signs of them being close to each other. I really think that the episode is supposed to show us that they're close from the beginning and Rishi just made them form an even stronger bond. Paraphrasing Shaak Ti, their journey is about them connecting to the rest of their squad throughout the episode, not necessarily about them also learning to connect with each other. They’ve got that down, after all.

#b talks #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #domino twins #domino squad #echo #fives #clone cadets #star wars meta #clone wars meta

[solliewriter]

Archery for Writers

In this post, I'll basically tell you the small stuff: e.g., what your archer will complain about to other archers, how different bows sound, what it's like shooting in the rain or snow, finding the goddamn arrows, etc. I’m also going into technical details and will discuss the legendary Robin Hood shot.

If you want a good basic primer, T.S. Strange on Instagram did a pretty good job https://www.instagram.com/p/COat-W1rQ7o/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

But, if you're ready for beyond the basics, I've got you covered.

To be clear, my knowledge of archery is primarily Western traditional archery. PLEASE research the history of the type of bow you choose as they’re all unique. There’s a reason why Mongolian bows are so different than English longbows.

I have primarily shot in thick, brushy forest (not parks, actual wilderness), so when you read, that I'm talking about that setting unless specified. My favored bow is a reflex/deflex, which is basically a recurve/longbow hybrid. I have also been doing archery for as long as I can remember, so yes I know how to shoot.

SOUNDS

Different bows make different sounds. Recurve bows are loud. They make this twangy sound when you use them, unless you put a silencer on the string. This silencer is usually a fluff-type thing that is woven around and through the string. The silencer doesn't make them perfectly silent. It's more of a muffler than a silencer.

Longbows are quieter, but they still make noise. It's short, grunt-like hum that usually only the archer and their immediate compatriots can hear.

For Your Character (FYC): a recurve archer and a longbow archer will very likely pester each other about noise.

SIGHT, pt1

You can shoot blind. Sorta. No, you can't put on a blindfold and still hit your target, but you can and will extrapolate what you see. As mentioned, I've done almost all of my shooting in the forest, in the mountains. Visibility is  less than perfect. You have to aim through hundreds of branches, and the likelihood of hitting a branch and sending your arrow flying into No Man's Land is very likely as a beginner and amateur. Shooting through the forest isn't like in Lord of the Rings or Hunger Games, unless that forest is a well maintained park with marked trails made by things other than deer and bear. (FYI, bear trails are perfect for humans.) Half the time, if you move an inch the wrong way, your arrow will be way off target. Missing by an inch means missing by several feet, which is really far in archery.

More than once, you see your target at one angle, but can't shoot it at another. I've experienced this frequently because my Viking sized dad will pick targets that I, his 5'2" daughter, am too short to see. I have to stand on tip toes to see his target, then lower myself into almost a crouch to shoot. I still hit the target.

FYC: Besides the obvious banter that comes from discussing height differences, there are a few other things to note. In the forest, it can be hard to find two good angles to shoot something. This can lead to frustration, complaining, attempts to get the other archer out of the way, and etc.

SIGHT, pt 2

I’m talking about recurve/longbows, so there are no actual sights to look through. 

This is where things are controversial. There’s a gap shooting and an instinctive shooting. Gap shooters guess the distance, then aim. Instinctive shooters just sorta ... wing it.

I’m not going to throw shade at either method. But here’s a key reason why one would use one style or another: gap shooting is largely ineffective in mountainous, forested terrain when you can’t really see much. So, if you have an archer from a prairie and an archer from the mountains, it’s likely they use different aiming styles.

Side note: Flu-flu shots are unique and fun shots that use big feathery arrows. You shoot nearly straight up in hopes of getting your arrow on top of the target rather than straight toward it. When doing this, you can either look at the target or look at your arrow angle, but you can't do both at the same time. You have to shoot blind. Flu-flu shots aren't good for killing creatures, but they are pure fun. This is a good example of using instinctive shooting rather than gap shooting. Also, flu-flu shots are prone to being highly effective by the wind, and it’s very easy to get them stuck in a tree for all eternity. There’s a shooting area my roving family calls “The Valley of Lost Flu-Flu’s.” It’s called this for very good reason.

SMELLS

Bows don't smell, unless you've just added beeswax to the string (strings fray, wax stops that). Arrows smell for about a day after you paint them and glue them.

Leather, however, smells and remains smelly forever. I personally like the smell (though I suppose I'm actually smelling the oil, not the leather). It's very hard to describe, partially because I have so many memories involved. Unfortunately, I have to leave this to you. Just note, leather from armguards, quivers, and pouches don't smell the same as couches and your typical urbanite materials. Find your hippie friend and ask them to make you a leather bracelet or something. That'll teach you the smell.

FYC: Your archer will have very strong memories associated with the smell of leather and beeswax. They will be warm fuzzy memories.

TOUCH, aka shooting in the cold weather

All right, it's cold, and your character is wearing a big coat. Big, puffy sleeves to fit all those layers beneath. No biggie, just nock the arrow, draw, and shoot ...

FWAP!

The string hits the character's coat sleeve. The arrow goes about ten feet before falling limp to the ground like a sad puppy.

To fix this, you need to tie a thick band around your character's sleeve. Easy peasy.

Now, your OC tries shooting again. Unfortunately, it’s been raining, so to their dismay, they've noticed that their turkey fletchings (standard in the western US states) have flattened and shrunk. It looks like there is barely any fletching at all. Fear not, the arrow will still fly. It'll just make aiming a bit harder, but not terribly worse. Those fletchings are just stabilizers.

Your OC goes home. When they take off their shooting glove/tab, they notice their fingers are yellow. Oh no! Don't worry, your OC is not sick, the dye has just come off the leather in the rain. It'll wash off, but it'll probably happen every time the leather gets wet for the next few months unless your OC makes a new glove/tab that isn't dyed.

LEFTIE VS RIGHTIE

It is extremely uncommon to find a left-handed archer. This is because even if someone’s right-handed doing their day-to-day things, it doesn’t mean they’re going to be right-handed for archery.

In archery, whether you shoot left or right handed is determined by your eye dominance. Most people are right-eyed dominant, so much so it’s very hard for a left-eye dominant archer (such as myself) to find new bows. And I mean really hard. Go anywhere and there’s a severe shortage of left-dominant archery gear simply because it’s that rare (hah I’m special- jk).

BOWS

There are manufactured bows (lame), and there are good bows. Yes, there’s a huge difference.

I’m not sure of the technical terms, but here’s my experience.

Manufactured bows, i.e., the cheap bows you find at a renaissance fair, are typically made from a type of plastic. Good traditional bows, from almost any country, are custom-made from wood that the bowyer (bow-maker) has shaped, treated, and glued.

Bows are a lot like musical instruments. Essentially, manufactured bows (or guitars, violins, etc.) are poor quality because they’re made of cheap materials which make the shooting quality less than superb (more on that later), and because they aren’t given the attention they need, which makes them of lesser quality because they’re just ... eh. Special treatment makes for a better bow.

Like musical instruments, there are a lot of different types. Most websites say there are only four (recurve, longbow, compound, and crossbow), but that’s not quite true. These acknowledge the four general shapes of a bow, but not the subtypes. For example, Mongolian bows are recurves, but tend to be shorter than Western recurves because Mongolian recurves are meant to be shot on horseback.

SHOOTING QUALITY 

So, what is it like shooting a good bow?

Again, I’m speaking from experience with recurves, longbows, and reflexes.

A good bow has good speed. It moves the arrow faster than slower. This is a relative scale because recurves shoot arrows faster than longbows, and reflex/deflex tend to shoot faster than longbows but slower than recurves.

WEIGHT

Is it possible for people to have pulled 100 pounds of weight in a bow back in the olden days, or are people just confused?

Yes, it’s possible.

My dad, who used to do archery once or twice a week, had a 100 pound bow that he shot fairly regularly. That was before his shoulder injuries and, y’know, age. 

Also note that he’s practically a Viking.

I pulled 50 pounds at 28 inches when I was doing it regularly, although now I probably have to go back to 45 pounds.

BASIC SHOOTING FORM

This is going to be heavily effected by your character’s culture, bow, and upbringing.

There’s the English, upright stance for shooting a longbow. The archer stands very straight, and their pull hand goes to anywhere between the lip and the ear.

There’s the forest stance, which is my own, and that’s slightly bent over to avoid string-slaps, finger to cheekbone. Also, I made up the forest stance, so don’t Google it.

Then there’s Walt Wilhem, who, due to physical disability, had to shoot from the hip and was still one of the best archers in the world. Watch the video of him and his brother:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=np8u69YfSA8

THE ROBIN HOOD SHOT

This is actually very attainable. I’ve done it six times. My dad has done it about 30 times. I have a friend who did it about 25 times.

In order for this situation to realistically happen (if you’re writing something unrealistic, you really shouldn’t bother reading all of this), the character needs to prep a few things.

1. Years of experience. At least six, and that’s assuming your archer shoots at least seven hours a week, without missing an hour.

 2. At six years the archer might get a few Robin Hood shots. Very likely, it’ll be at a shorter distance and the arrow they’re shooting will be cross-wise instead of straight down the shaft.

3. At ten years, it’s quite likely your Robin Hood has shot straight down the shaft a few times.

4. Your Robin Hood must seek to improve every week.

SOME QUICK TIPS

unless you’re Walt Wilhem, you always pull from your back, not your arm

you never fire an arrow

back quivers are quieter and more mobile than hip quivers (suck it hipsters)

it takes practice and long fingers, but it’s quite doable to hold both a bow and an arrow in one hand while shooting

there is a system for very fast nocking 

beginners have no clue what this system is and so take several minutes to nock their arrow.

contrast, it takes a second for an experienced archer.

someone who doesn’t take long to aim is often called a snap shooter, and this isn’t exactly complimentary.

This ought to take you far in your journey of writing an archer. I’ve been sitting on this post for about a year now, but still need to add to it. PLEASE google the following in case I don’t get to sharing the info.

arrow breakage

bow breaking

materials for arrows

types of wood for bows

types of wood for arrows

arrow spine weight

bow tuning

bow shelfs

different forms

holding a bow

stringing a bow

bow at rest

temperatures + bows

fletching types

aerodynamics 

quivers

moving around

how to find the goddamn arrows

#archery #writeblr #writing #archers #bow and arrow #wip #writing tip #writing advice #don't tell anyone it's been 2 years since I've shot my lovely bear bow #I need my bow again #I need to shoot

[ihatecoconut]

No Longer Me

Cross posted to AO3

Natalia Romanova is eight years old and ‘the best the Red Room has ever seen’ when she’s pulled out of one lesson by some handlers she’s never interacted with before. They say nothing but her name, take her away from the training rooms, still dressed in her ballet gear, and down the long twisting corridors to Dreykov’s office. She’s been in the Red Room long enough to know the punishments for showing fear, but still her heart speeds up as they open the doors, usher her in and point to a chair.

There’s a second chair across from his desk as well and there’s a small blonde girl sitting in it, maybe the same age as Natalia herself when she was first brought into the Red Room. She sits next to the girl- toddler, really- and sits up straight, keeping her posture; they only could have brought her in here as a punishment and she isn’t going to give them a reason to extend that. The blonde girl shifts a little in her seat as they wait and Natalia wonders if they’re going to make her kill her, she knows how she’d do it, the girl’s face is still small enough that she could be smothered by one hand over the mouth and nose, holding her down with the other hand.

Dreykov enters and she rises instinctively, feeling the other girl copy her just a beat too late. His mouth twists up a little at that and neither of them get praised as he sits at his desk. Natalia keeps her eyes on the floor obediently and yet she can still feel him looking over her body, over the way the leotard hugs the figure that has not developed yet.

“Natalia.” He says, she can hear the proud smile in his voice and lets herself relax slightly. This isn’t a punishment.

“Yes, sir.”

“This is Yelena Belova.”

She turns to look at the girl who is already looking back up at her, bright blue eyes and blonde hair and the remnants of baby fat still on her cheeks. Natalia imagines the way her cheeks would feel soft under her own hard hands.

“The two of you have been assigned to a mission.” Dreykov continues, leaning forwards until she looks up at him. “Exciting, hmm?” He has switched to English.

“Yes, sir.” She repeats, uncertain. This is a new situation and too often new situations have meant pain and punishment, no matter how proud he seems.

Dreykov gestures with one hand and she is given a manilla folder. A brief for the mission. She curls her fingers around it like it is the most precious thing in the world. Most Widows don’t get to leave the Red Room until they have completed their training at least once, if not twice, to be able to leave at eight years old is a privilege she hadn’t dared even imagine.

“Yelena is to be your sister,” He continues, eyes fixed on her face. She schools her expression, scared that he can read her thoughts, “you will read that in the brief, and the fact that you will be a part of an all-American family.”

She doesn’t dare open it in front of him, but her fingers itch to comb through the details.

“Your handlers here will make sure you actually look like sisters. Blonde hair.”

Her red hair is the one thing that she herself owns, the one thing that nobody else shares or can take away from her. It makes her stand out in the Red Room; it makes the handlers favour her. It makes her who she is. She can’t argue.

“You will meet your new parents shortly,” Dreykov adds, turning away, “the Iron Maiden and the Red Guardian, hm?”

Her heart freezes in her chest. None of the girls in the Red Room have ever met or seen the Red Guardian, but the Iron Maiden is a regular guest- whenever she comes to report to Dreykov, she stops by the training rooms and watches them. In a world where every adult would as soon kill her as praise her, the Iron Maiden is what Natalia is most scared of, she represents everything that Natalia doesn’t want to become. Hard, cold, attuned to everyone’s movements, paranoid and yet unquestioning, the perfect spy.

“Yes, sir.”

He raises his chin, surveying them both. “Remember, she’s your sister now.”

And that’s it, they’re dismissed. Yelena blinks up at her, still too young to properly understand what his tone means, and Natalia runs Dreykov’s parting words through her head as they are escorted out. Sisters. How do sisters act?

“Take her hand.” One of the handlers orders as they make their way back down the corridors to what could generously be described as a salon.

Natalia switches the hand that is holding the file and hold it out for Yelena to take. She does, with what would be a concerning amount of enthusiasm to anyone else. The handlers punish any physical contact for the first few years, even before they start training, starving them all of human contact, and then use that to reward them with hands on shoulders, on elbows. The warmth of the little girl’s hand sends shocks up Natalia’s arm, unexpected enough that she nearly yanks her hand back; they’re being watched, however, and so she forces herself to relax and keep walking.

 The Iron Maiden herself appears while Natalia’s hair is being bleached. She has been reading the file to distract herself from how there are hands near her throat, in vulnerable places, and reading parts aloud to Yelena, the bits that she will hopefully understand.

“Natasha.” Melina Vostokoff says, watching her.

Natalia- now Natasha, an American name- cannot rise to meet her as she feels obliged to do, so she just keeps her eyes down, respectfully.

Melina sighs, “Look at me.”

She brings her gaze up instantly, moving her head fast enough that one of those bleaching her hair yanks on it.

“Hello.” Melina crouches down in front of her, smiles warmly, but Natasha can see the utter lack of emotions in her eyes, the blankness created by the Red Room. “I’m your mother now.”

Yelena, who has not been given a new name, beams at this, hopping off her chair and coming over to hug Melina. Natasha watches the same reaction she herself had experienced not long ago, the desire to shake off the girl’s unexpected warmth, the touch that has not been earned by killing another girl.

“How long will this take?” Melina asks, rising and allowing Yelena to continue clinging onto her legs.

“Another hour, maybe.” The handlers continue to speak in Russian, even as their newly minted family practices their English.

“Alright. Send them to me when you have finished. We need to pick out clothing.”

She places Yelena on Natasha’s lap, ignoring the way that Natasha instinctively flinches away and leaves. Natasha takes note of her outfit as she does- jeans and a t-shirt- in the way they have been trained to. It’s one to fit in, not stand out, not the sort of mission outfit a Widow would normally wear. She looks down at her own ballet clothes- practical, the same grey as their normal uniforms, the same one that Yelena is wearing.

Jeans. She flexes her legs and wonders what they will look like when not wearing clothes designed to show them off.

Yelena snuggles deeper into her lap and she lets her, wrapping her arms around the girl and looking again at the file. The same line as before jumps out at her: Long-term mission. Minimum two years. Maximum six years. Six years away from the Red Room might just render her useless to them, would strip her of all the skills they had taught her and leave her a normal fourteen-year-old. She shut her eyes and hoped.

 There are locks of red left on the floor when they’re done with her hair from where they cut it first and she wants to pick on up, keep it in her fist and remind herself that she isn’t the all-American girl they’ve made her out to be, that even if six years do pass, she will still be the same little girl who killed other little girls to survive. Yelena beams when they are stood, side by side, in front of the mirror and compared. They do look like sisters, now, Dreykov was cruel and frightening but he knew how to use them.

Melina greets them in the hanger. She’s standing in the middle of several boxes, more have been loaded onto the small plane that will be taking them to Cuba to catch their final flight over to America, Ohio, but these ones are open, and Natasha can see clothes in them. Each one is labelled: Pastels, Darks, Denim etc.

She’s still holding Yelena’s hand when they approach and Melina smiles approvingly.

“Come, pick some clothes.” Her Russian accent has all but vanished in the time since they last saw her.

Natasha picks out clothes that fit the brief she has been given, mostly jeans with some bright t-shirts and outer layers. Yelena tries to take all of the clothes and in the end, Melina and Natasha end up picking most of her clothes out of the pastels box. Natasha can see that Melina has completely forgotten what it is like to be a child as young as Yelena, to have that innocence- she hasn’t been one of them for too long, hasn’t been constantly faced by the newer recruits, watching the handlers break their spirits slowly and then all at once until they too follow orders like a robot, fire rounds into the centre of the target.

Alexei joins them then, tall and smiling, a man who did not have his childhood stolen by a man that treats them as tools. His is brunet, but light enough that it is not unthinkable that he would have blonde daughters, briefly Natasha wonders how much thought was put into creating their fake little family. He produces documents for them all, passports, birth certificates, a marriage certificate for him and Melina- for Alex and Melissa Spier.

“Spider!” Alexei laughs when he tells them their new surname and Natasha and Melina both smile back, even if neither of them find it that funny. It’s Dreykov again, another reminder that no matter how far physically they are, they will never escape the Red Room.

He seems to notice their hesitation because he puts the documentation away again and opens his arms for a hug. Yelena runs to him immediately, allowing him to pick her up and calls him ‘Papa’ without any hesitation, he laughs at that, switches her to one arm and opens the other to Natasha. She walks forwards, she knows what is expected of her and allows him to wrap her up.

“Don’t tense so much.” Melina says, frowning slightly behind her and Natasha tries to forcibly relax her body. It doesn’t work.

“It is fine,” Alexei says, releasing her, “you will get used to it.”

And then it’s Melina’s turn. This was their last chance to be pulled off and she realises, as Melina leans in to kiss her new husband that she passed whatever test this was because they didn’t pull her off, didn’t find another girl who wasn’t yet afraid of contact.

Yelena laughs at the noise they make when they separate and for a moment, Natasha allows herself to believe that this could be real. And then a handler approaches with two syringes and Natasha breathes out. Even while the charade is up, the rules still apply. Every Widow sedated on entry and exit.

“Set a good example for your sister.” Melina murmurs to her and Natasha drops her shoulders, smiles calmly up at Yelena and doesn’t stop, even when they push the needle into her neck. She thinks Yelena might have screamed, but the drug starts working immediately.

 When she wakes, it’s in a car, late at night and Melina turns around to smile at her.

“Welcome to America.”

As if on cue, they pass a sign welcoming them to Ohio and Natasha allows herself to breathe. They made it, all the way, and without anyone calling them back, locking her back up. She has a sudden desire to throw the door open, roll out of the car and run and run and run.

“The child locks are on.” Melina tells her, still turned around, dark eyes watching her, unreadable. “And you still have a tracker.”

Of course, Dreykov’s best agents know what she thinks, how she thinks and of course they prepared for that. Hatred burns through her, even as she returns Melina’s calm smile.

 The house they’re staying in is already furnished, agents have been posing as moving companies over the past week to prepare it for them. Two bedroom, two bathroom, kitchen, dining room, living room, and a small storage room that they will be keeping anything that could blow their cover. Yelena is yawning when they arrive, already tired despite the long period of unconsciousness and Alexei carries her into the house, waving at the few neighbours that are still awake and peering out at them curiously. Natasha follows, keeping close to him and slips into the other bed in their shared room.

Yelena is young enough that she will forget all she ever knew of the Red Room, memories fading until they only come up in bad dreams that she cannot understand, and Natasha suddenly hates her for it, hates that she will be happy here in Ohio while all Natasha herself will ever be able to think of is the fact that the Red Room will take them back one day, without warning, without mercy. She watches the blonde girl, sleeping happily in the new bed and turns away. She can’t sleep, something’s wrong.

“Put your arm up.” Melina’s voice says from the doorway.

Natasha sits up, fast, irritated that she hadn’t noticed the movement.

“Put your arm over the headboard.” It’s an order and her body knows how to respond to those.

She lies back down and raises her hand, hooking the wrist over the edge of the headboard and a feeling a rightness comes over her in waves, along with the sleepiness that has been kept at the edges by her unhappiness. There’s no handcuff holding her arm there, but this is how she sleeps, how she has always slept for as long as she can remember.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Natasha.”

She pillows her head on her upper arm and shuts her eyes. “Goodnight, ma’am… mom.”

Melina sighs from the doorway, but she doesn’t sound annoyed, just tired. “We’ll get there.”

Sleep is already taking Natasha, the day’s travelling too much for her small body, but she hears the words and cannot help but wish that they could stay there.

#black widow #black widow 2021 #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanov #yelena boleva #melina vostokoff #alexei shostakov #writing #writer #write #writers #my writing #writblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #short story #short stories #short fiction #fiction #fanfiction

[shattersstar]

here r my jason headcanons abt his scars and general feelings about his appearance + how the reader deals with it

disclaimer: wrote these in my notes within half and hour and i’m tipsy but i hope u enjoy these thots

jason wasn’t overly aware of his appearance growing up, until he moved in with bruce. he was aware he was a bit rough around the edges, growing up as he did was direct influence of that, but it wasnt until he had to interact with high society he was made aware of how looks mattered. he didn’t get the same treatment as dick, maybe the novelty of bruce’s wards had worn off come the second robin, or maybe they all recognized a poorness in him that left his toothy grin a little smaller. he tried not to care but those things bite at the back of your mind and leave residual scars to trace in years to come.

and years later, he had come to hate his body. it was something mangled, mashed and stitched back together, barely holding itself together in the first few years after the pit. his autopsy scars stayed too, every injury from being robin, from his life on the streets healed into a nothing but those fucking scars stayed. they were a harsh reminder of how his life panned out and would follow him around till he died—again.

the distaste from the socialites he had nearly forgotten about seemed to burn through his veins each time he passed a mirror. as he grew and accumulated more wounds, ones that healed and others that didn’t, the more he stopped looking at himself. he wanted to feel the vanity others had thrusted upon him, wanted to relish in the sly glances he got as he aged into his (forever handsome) features, but all he felt was lies. They wouldn’t be as bold with their eyes if they knew about him, about what hid under the layers of clothes, what phantoms hung on his shoulders and the blood he washed away, that never truly left. He couldn’t find a rugged appreciation in the crooked bend of his nose of the scar that clung to his cheekbone, another slicing through his left brow bone.

he felt like he had grown into what he was always seen as, some rough kid from the streets of gotham. he didn’t hate looking mean, it had its advantages. he liked the surprised reactions he got from his apartment neighbours who assumed he was just some criminal kid trying to make his stake in the crime ridden city. but then he’d help them carry groceries, let them drop off their pets at his place when they went out of town for the weekend, helped esl kids with english homework when he had free time. part of him wished he didnt have to win over people to get him to accept and trust him but he understood nonetheless

that was until you showed up. you moved in across the hall and asked him the day you met to help you move the couch the movers put in the wrong spot. “if you’re busy its all good.” you added at the end with a shrug, likely due to his own stunned silence at your request. he agreed, pulling his key from the lock and spent the evening setting up your living room. you paid him in a beer your friend had given as a house warming gift and asked him about the floor. you were a bit nosy, a little gossipy but something about it felt sincere. just a genuine curiosity about the inner workings of the place he called home. actually—everything about you just felt sincere.

you were kind to him, treated him like a neighbour and not a cautionary tale and jesus that scared the shit outta him. you popped up in his life a few times after your first meeting, inviting him over when you made way too much food or asking him for a good grocery store nearby. it wasn’t until you knocked on his door, asking if he wanted to hang out—no conditions, no help or anything needed. “do you like movies?” you asked, swaying on the balls of your feet as jason stood in his doorway, it barely cracked open out of habit.

“as long as its not based on a book.” he replied, ignoring how dry his throat was.

“you’re a ‘book is better then an adaptation’ kinda guy huh?”

“because its true.”

“unless the book already sucks.” that made him chuckle.

“but yeah i like movies.”

“cool the things is—“

“u dont have a tv.”

“exactly, we can squish onto my bed or watch it at your place if you’re cool with that. can’t lie i am curious to see how you live.” you admitted, jokingly pushing yourself onto your tippy toes and pretending to peer over his shoulder.

“my place then.”

“tomorrow night?”

“tomorrow.”

it quickly became a weekly tradition, you’d bring popcorn and something you stressed baked and alternate between picking films. most were spent in his living room, but after a while you managed to get him back into your place. you did exactly what you said and squished into your bed, laptop balancing on your lap desk. jason was in his usual long sleeve and sweats. you were in a tshirt and pj shorts. it was summer and he knew you were going to ask. “you wanna go back to your place in change? its kinda warm and as much as i like you, i dunno how i’d feel about you overheating on me.”

despite your attempt at humor he muttered a quick, “i’m fine.”

you shrugged it off and jason should’ve known better. should’ve known you weren’t going to drop it, that wasnt how you worked. you were nosy and talkative and curious and pushy and caring and you hated the idea of a wall between you two. so when you slipped into his lap one day, some early 2000s romcom droning on behind you, he knew exactly what you were up too.

your knees dug into the side of his couch and your hands landed on his shoulders. “were friends right?” you asked, and something about how your nose bumped his felt anything but platonic.

“yeah.” he breathed, hyper aware of your thumb brushing against the collar of his shirt. one of his scars peaked through, and a jagged knife wound that left him half dead on a rooftop two years ago.

your thumb brushed it and his fingers clasped to your forearms in warning.

“this is why you’re always in sweaters right? what you’re trying to hide.” your eyes were fixed on it, still rubbing small circles against the skin around it. he didn’t say anything, you had were more observant than he gave you credit. “friends dont keep secrets jay.” you all but pouted at him, forehead resting against his.

“they’re...bad.” was all he could stress, eyes downcast to where your thighs met his.

“they’re apart of you which means they cant be bad. not to me.”

and it was like the hesitation in which people would approach him, the disgusted whispers about the newest wayne ward, the eyes that were fearful to meet his all vanished. all the left over pain and hate for his tired and broken body was put somewhere he couldnt reach even if just for this moment.

he still had a hard time looking in the mirror, wished his battered knuckles didn’t stand out so much when your fingers locked with his, wanted to kiss you without feeling the small scar from his  near constantly split lip, wanted to be able to wear the more revealing clothes you thought he’d look good in, and more. there were still things to want and wish and hate and push away. but there was also your voice now living in his mind whispering the words he hadn’t known he needed to hear since he was a kid.

#this honestly turned into a fic halfway through #but i’m still gonna call them headcanons bc y’know its messy #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing #me?? posting two works within a week??? unheard of #idk where this inspiration came from but i am thriving

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕓𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕡. 𝟠𝟛-𝟠𝟝❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ when you put bangtan in a resort that’s basically a water park

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

Episode 83

yoonmi was practically drowning in the big shirt over her rashguard, so you can see her tying it at her waist while the others introduce the episode

“today’s run bts’s theme is summer outing”

“oh god, i’m not good at sports”

jungkook and her met eyes and “i got you, mimi” “hopefully we’re on the same team”

she got grouped with namjoon, hoseok, and seokjin

while the other team celebrated, she laughed while hoseok and seokjin lifted her up with their arms forming a makeshift throne

“oppas, please, i’m not good with sports”

she cheered when hoseok was called out to do the warm up exercises

she was giggling the whole warm up “why are we doing dance basics?”

she stretched out on the side, pulling her legs up into a scorpion position one at a time before sitting by the side of the pool. seokjin lifted her from under her armpits and placed her in the pool where the water reached her chest, almost to her collar bones

she exchanged looks with her teammates

“we’re at a huge disadvantage” “you’re telling me? they have ggukoo oppa, and he’s a powerhouse! i’m a noodle”

the game starts, and it shows the chaotic mess of the members. then there’s a one shot of her lightly splashing around in the water with squeaky noises layered on it

taehyung laughs and calls a time out around half way into the game “hold on, we’re at second set, and yoonmi’s just been playing in the back the whole time” “but, oppa, i’m literally armpit deep in the water!”

everyone laughs and calls her over to stand near their net with the caption “makdungie with no competitive bone” around her

surprisingly, she was able to hit the ball to the back where yoongi couldn’t reach

buuut they lost the second round

“i told you guys i can’t play”

for the third set, she was in front once again and the ball was just constantly sailing over her head. eventually she pouts

“i’m short, this isn’t fair”

to which hoseok just laughs and pats her head

she cheers when jungkook hits the ball softer for her to hit

but then he hits it back way too hard and it goes far behind them

“oppa,” she gasped at a laughing jungkook “are you mad?”

she hit the last ball, and they won the third set. the other three cheered and pulled her into a group hug

there’s a clip of yoonmi struggling to get out of the pool so jungkook lifts her out

next cut she’s in protective gear looking nervously at the boat

“are we gonna fly off? i can’t really swim” “that’s why you have a life vest, princess”

her eyes widened when she saw how fast and rocky the little boat was moving

“oppas! is it hard to stay on?”

all she could hear was screaming. she looked at seokjin “i’m gonna die” “no you’re not” “yes i am”

then it was their turn to get on. jungkook lightly tapped the side of her helmet “you’ll be fine. just hold tight”

her eyes and mouth are squeezed shut while they’re going, and she screams when the boat jumps

“125x7” “oppas, it’s 875, let’s do this fast so we can get off fast”

namjoon laughed “terror made you smarter makdungie”

then the boat moves once again

they arrive on land and she just lies down on the wooden floor

“oh my god, i’m never doing that again”

jimin shook his head fondly and pulled her to the others where they had chicken

she was zoned out and the caption on her one-shot said “the most stressed she’s been in her 19 years of life”

Episode 84

she was a lot more lively in the next game

“i like slides, this will be fun”

they chose her to go last and she grinned

she sat on where they were standing and clapped her hands when she saw the other members going down

by the time it was her and jungkook’s turn, the two maknaes cheerfully went up the slide

“they’re the only one’s not scared” namjoon noted

seokjin gave a confused look “which is surprising for yoonmi, but she enjoys slides too much”

she and jungkook did little wiggly dances when the pd asked if they were ready making the other members laugh

they went down, and she made sure to curl herself into a ball the moment she was off the slide

she stayed in the air considerably long before unfolding her body

once they hit the water, she floated up and wiped her face while laughing. jungkook pulled her with him to the side where she wasn’t even fazed at the news of losing

“it was fun!”

when taehyung went and forgot to say the s in bts, she fell to the ground in laughter

for the bob jump, they asked her if she would be able to do it to which she said no and curled up next to yoongi who also wasn’t doing it

“have fun, oppas”

she watched in awe while jungkook went and audibly gasped when she saw how high he went

“yup, i could not have managed that”

yoongi pulled her back to a chair where he kept her on his lap, wrapping them both in a towel to keep them warm while they watched the others

she sneezed a few times before yoongi looked at the on site medic

then they were on the platform by the obstacle course

“as you can see, we’re only seven now, but only six of us will be participating since hobi is feeling seasick, and yoonmi developed a slight fever, so we aren’t letting her play in case it gets worse”

“i want to go on the obstacle course, though,” yet she was silenced by six pairs of eyes silently telling her no to which she sighed

she sat on the blue platform to watch, but the staff told her to go wash up and get dressed in something warm. she pouted but hugged the six boys before running off

Episode 85

she appeared a little worse for wear with her hood up over her head.

jimin stood up and opened his arms

“aigoo, aegi, come here”

she sulked towards him and settled in a hug

“you’re burning up,” he felt her forehead, “thankfully you didn’t get too sick in the middle of a game. go sit beside kookie”

she sat on the table, head in her arms, while the others got food.

jungkook eventually returned not just with food, but also with a bottle of water and some medicine for yoonmi

taehyung was constantly feeding her or putting food on her plate

she was practically half asleep while eating, so she barely followed along with what was happening

“no,” seokjin laughed, “it’s a little funny because even hobi has more energy than yoonmi right now, and hobi just woke up”

she watched them do the bottle cap challenge with a tired smile

eventually taehyung pulled her over into a back hug and waddled them both towards the other chairs

then they were seated for the manito. she was between jimin and jungkook, arms tucked into the torso portion of her hoodie while jungkook tied her sleeves together

the pds asked her if she was okay “i drank my medicine! i’m okay!”

she saw yoongi’s gift and burst into a fit of giggles. when she saw seokjin’s gift, she just laughed. she burst into laughter when she saw taehyung’s gift and fell off her chair, so jimin had to help her up by untying her sleeves, but he fell, too which lead to more laughter

then namjoon started to approach taehyung with his gift

she jumped in surprise when he handed a small box to her

“oh, me? is this bts goods again?”

she opened the box and pulled out a leather bound notebook and a case of colorful pens. the leather notebook had “M.Y.” engraved in gold on the corner

“woah”

namjoon smiled when he sat back down “i know you’re looking into bullet journalling, so i thought maybe i could help you get started”

she smiled and skipped over to him before kissing his cheek “thank you oppa”

then it was her turn to give a gift. she twirled a little before gently attacking yoongi in a hug and placing a small paper bag in his arms. yoongi let her sit on his lap while he opened it

“woah, princess, and this fit in the price range?” “yupp!”

inside was a necklace with a shield shaped charm that had a heart shaped hole in it. she helped yoongi put it on then pulled her own necklace from under her hoodie and connected them

“yours is the shield because you always protect me and the oppas. you can even hang it on your bed or clip it to your bags, i don’t mind”

the other members were cooing at her while yoongi patted her cheek and pressed a kiss to the top of her head

“wait,” seokjin began, “so three of us got bangtan goods while yoonmi and yoongi don’t? wahhh”

this made everyone laugh

yoonmi went back to her seat and excitedly opened the notebook namjoon gave her, pleased to see the pages were dotted

they all finished giving each other presents, and she was just smiling despite how tired and lightheaded she felt

“it’s actually pretty nice we got to get each other presents” “you got journalling stuff, mimi. i got v fans” “that’s taetae oppa watching over you and keeping you cool!”

she leaned against yoongi for their ending shot. after calling out the slogan and the camera panning away, you can hear her voice

“i’m gonna start on my bullet journal as soon as i’m better and i’ve printed my pictures and stickers!”

#yoonmi.btsrun #bts 8th member #bts female member #bts female addition #miya #yoonmi #kim yoonmi

[teaandatale]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @geekynerddemon who so lovingly wished for me to finish Layer on Layer. And though I haven’t been able to do so, I thought I would whet your appetite with a preview of Part 1 of my 2 Part Epilogue.

Please note this is a rough draft & subject to thorough revisions when I get the writing muse under control again.

Layer on Layer: Epilogue- PART ONE

“You see one painting, I see another, […] it’ll never strike anybody the same way and the great majority of people it’ll never strike in any deep way at all but—a really great painting is fluid enough to work its way into the mind and heart through all kinds of different angles, in ways that are unique and very particular. Yours, yours. I was painted for you.” ― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Despite the scorching heat radiating from the sudden summer outside, Steve had turned the AC off while the sun blazed in through the windows of the loft’s living room where he’d been painting. He had his music turned up and he was humming as he worked.

Peggy had given him the custom made easel, sturdy, adjustable, gorgeous, no doubt pricey, as a gift. He’d been painting so much that Peggy had deemed it necessary he have an easel at her place, a designated space to work since he spent so much time there anyway. She had claimed is a selfish gift after he voiced concern about her being too generous, assuring him she looked forward to watching him paint from the comfort of her couch. And she often did, taking breaks from her work by watching him mix colors and paint broad strokes.

The first thing he had painted at his new easel was for her, another detailed flower arrangement, just for her.

After unveiling the final product of Ana’s anniversary painting, which reportedly made Ana cry, happy tears Jarvis assured, she had given Steve a tremendous hug and after their double date dinner, they discussed art for a long time, their significant others at their sides sipping tea opting to discuss the dessert spread instead. He’d been so happy and warm to sit there among her friends, her make-shift family, accepting and open to him. How he could possibly love Peggy more he didn’t fully understand other than that he was learning he did it with every passing day.

Not long after that, Peggy started suggesting dates at more art museums and galleries. She watched him paint and encouraged him to do it more broadly. To show his work. To do more commissions. He wasn’t sure about all that, but he did start to paint more and more. He’d started even transferring images out of his therapy journal into oils. He’d done several, even brought one in to show his art therapy group. They encouraged him to make a series, to show his stories on canvas.

Steve swirls his paintbrush into his yellows, ochres melding with browns.

He’s deep in concentration getting her warm brown eyes just right, the right shade, the touch of a knowing glimmer in them. He remembers the first time they locked eyes, across her bedroom, just down the hall from where he stood right then.

He’s so deep in concentration, he doesn’t think twice at the sound of the front door opening and then when he hears footsteps approaching.

“Hey Peg, aren’t you late?” he asks distractedly without looking up.

“She sure is,” a voice that’s not Peggy’s startles him. He nearly drops his palette, tipping it over and paint gets on his bare chest.

He looks up and sees Angie.

“Sorry!” she cries out, and he notices she’s not looking at his face when he sets the palette down, trying to wipe at the pint on his skin. “Wow. This is a look. Go English!”

Steve blushes, grabbing his rag and using it as a make-shift cover for at least part of his bare torso.

“I thought you two were meeting at your hotel for drinks,” Steve said, reaching over to the couch for his shirt. Angie is still staring when he slips it on.

“We were but she was running late. And so when she didn’t show I thought I’d see if we got our wires crossed and see if she was here. Sorry for scaring you. I still had my key, and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sure Peggy just got caught up or stuck in traffic. You know how her work is.”

Angie nodded. “Yeah, she’s always going at a hundred miles a minute.” She stepped further into the room until she was right in front of the canvas. “You’re painting Peggy! You’ve been painting a perfect portrait of her half-naked looking like a Greek God. Unreal.”

Steve blushed further. “It’s hot in here but I prefer the breeze and the sunlight filtering in while painting so I turned the air conditioning off.”

“Oh don’t apologize, Steve. This has been the best surprise to walk into. I can’t imagine how Peg handles coming home to this every day.”

“We’re not living together.”

The yet goes without saying.

She giggled. “Yeah and when’s the last time you were at your place?”

“This morning,” he said defensively.

She just smirked and continue to devolve into giggles.

“You’re an amazing artist. That looks just like Peggy, down to that spark in her eye. I might need to hire you to paint me.”

He laughed. “Free of charge Angie. Friends and family plan.”

She grinned. “You’re as sweet as a button, you know that?”

“Can I get you something? Water?” he asked, already headed into the kitchen.

“Water’s good.”

They say down in the living room together chatting.

“How was your flight? Did you have press today?”

“Yup. Did a few of the morning shows. I have a late-night show appearance tomorrow afternoon that I’m pretty excited about. I can’t believe they’re having me on it!”

“We’ll have to record it. Peggy and I have been watching every episode by the way. But we’re a few behind because I have to wait and watch them with her. But you’re our favorite!”

“Aw, shucks. I cannot believe you got Peggy watching network TV.”

He laughed. “No I got her to use Netflix. You got her into network TV. She says you’re the most believable, though she always figures out the plot twists before I do. Are you giving her spoilers?”

“No way! And give away the impact of my performances before she sees them? That’s definitely all English. How’s she been? Super busy?”

“A little, but less so recently. She had a busy few weeks before her conference with the EU but she’s been keeping a regular schedule lately, coming home for dinner most nights.”

“Guess I just got unlucky with my timing,” Angie replied. “But I’m glad Peggy’s been taking some time for herself.”

Steve nodded. He’d seen Peggy in all sorts of ranges of stress in the last ten months. He’d been so glad that she’d been taking more personal time off, delegating, taking care of her well-being, seeking out his support when she needed it. Of course she was a busy woman. That was a given. But she always tried to make time. She always took the effort to stay present when they spent quality time together.

She’d gone out of her way to support his painting. They’d spent so many evenings out, sipping wine and swinging by the latest “hot” opening only for Peggy to proclaim that his work was much better, more moving, worthy of his own showing.

He still wasn’t all too sure about the whole artist career, but he loved how supportive she had been. How much she cared. How much she believe in him. It was nice to know if nothing else, he had a fan in Peggy.

“I’ve been trying to make sure she’s been taking care of herself better.”

“Good. I already know how good you are to her. She’s always happy to talk about you. I wouldn’t have believed it before actually meeting you.”

He shrugs off the compliment, after all he didn’t want the praise for just being there for someone he loved. Besides she deserved it and more.

“Maybe she’s got held up in a meeting. I’m sure she remembers our reservation,” Steve said after another fifteen minutes without hearing from her. “I’ll try to call her again.”

He didn’t catch her, but he did leave her a message reminding her of their reservation and that he and Angie would meet her there. Steve changed quickly in Peggy’s room and then the two of them hailed a cab. Angie filled him in on some L.A. gossip and some stories of her cast mates. He liked how bright and bubbly Angie was. He liked hearing stories of how she and Peggy became friends. How Peggy had always believed in Angie becoming an actress, and how the two always had each other’s backs. He liked knowing there were people apart from himself that cared so much for her.

They were early for their reservation, opting for the bar while they continued to swap stories. He checked his phone once they were seated but there were no messages. Angie convinced him to split an appetizer as she was starving and he hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“Must be some hell of a meeting English is stuck in for her to respond to my texts for like five hours.”

Steve hummed, checking his phone.

“Wait. What did you say? You haven’t heard from her in that long?”

#geekynerddemon #steggy #my fic #I’m sorry I couldn’t get you the whole thing #may has been kicking my ass #also doing this on tumblr mobile was not fun #happy birthday friend!!

[fukurodaze]

if i ever get lost

pairing/s: third year!haiba lev x gn!reader genre: fluff, romantic tension aka best and softest tension word count: 3.2k warnings: like, one curse word this was also requested by anon! “3rd year Lev w a reader who’s struggling to pass all their homeworks, projects and quizzes (bc they piled up their works ;;) while thinking of how should they study for college/uni entrance exams?”

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ and ellie @lcnelyinthesky​ for beta reading and helping me w this!! 

LISTEN TO: somebody loves you - jeremy zucker; glitter - benee

lowercase intended!

you throw your head back when you forget the term written on the flip side of the flash card haiba lev is holding. it’s a friday night, far past anyone’s bedtimes, but final exams for the first semester start on monday and you’re not sure where to start. haiba lev, being the person who has nothing better to do, agreed to come over and flip cards with random kanji, english, and biology terms on it.

lev might also be here because it’s an open secret that he’s liked you since first year, and you’ve never answered to his feelings, but you’re thinking friends for now - until you memorise all of this semester’s kanji, english vocabulary, and biology terms, that is.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of...”

lev gives you time to think, his wide eyes going between the answer on the card and your thinking face.

“shit, uh, the phospholipid bilayer is made up of two layers of phospholipids?”

“makes sense, but no.” lev answers, flipping the card to show you.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids...” you read aloud, trying to memorise what’s currently going out your mouth, in one ear, and out again through another ear.

“you know, your flash cards are pretty comprehensive.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that... a good thing?”

“i mean, yes and no,” he takes another sip of the tea your mom had insisted to bring to guests, “it’s harder to memorise, but it’s better for details. but-”

“but?” you watch as he takes another sip. 

“i think if you really don’t know where to go, just understand the basic concept of everything. for one - what is the function of the bilayer?”

“why do you sound smart?” you question, tilting your head jokingly.

“hey! i am smart! most times! with tests like these that have essay questions, you just gotta learn the basic concept of each term and connect them.” lev advices, recounting his former volleyball captain and nekoma high school alumni, kuroo tetsuro’s, words when lev himself was barely scraping past his first semester finals when he’d just transferred.

“easier said than done in two nights,” you slouch your head on your desk, “plus! it’s not just biology. or exams.”

if memorising all these terms in the span of two days sounds bad enough, you’re still crushed with the supplementary course work and projects due next week as well. 

you let out a deep groan. you’re so tired. it’s like biology information only comes up when you’re studying for english, biology only coming up for modern literature, and mathematics somehow being inserted into the little unknown kanji in modern literature. it’s all too much at once.

“it’s all too much at once, huh?” lev places his head on your desk, only a few inches away from your face. normally, you’d push him away, pull your head back up, or maybe even give him a light slap on a bad day, but today you welcome him. 

you nod, quiet. you haven’t been able to get a breather. it’s essay this, quiz that, lab report here, test there. your mind is blank.

now, lev sits back up on the extra chair from your dining room, “have you eaten dinner?”

“why are you asking... it’s like, midnight.”

“the question still stands.”

you sigh, “nope.”

lev hums. he takes a pen, then twirls it, like his fingers possessed polar magnets that somehow let the pens never fall from his hands. but it does eventually, and when it falls with a plastic click on your wooden desk, lev visibly takes a big breath and says, “do you want to get ramen?”

you exhale through your nose and smile. “are you asking me out, haiba?”

“is it inappropriate to ask you out now?”

damn this tall dork. come to think of it, he’s never actually asked you out despite the obvious ways he’d vouch for your attention in the past. you’re quite surprised, frankly, as he’s always been so loud in the ways he’s wanted to be with you but never really made it seem like anything was going to happen. 

but, hey, it’s late enough for you to put down your doubts about him away. after all, he’s been in your room for four hours, just helping you study. he wasn’t even studying himself - he just sat there, doing almost nothing. and for a guy like him, you wonder how he’s managed to keep there for so long.

“sure.”

lev’s eyes widen. “wait, really?”

“yeah,” you begin to set aside all your study materials, “we can go to a twenty-four hour place in the city, too.”

“alright! let me get you your coat!”

“my coat?” you raise an eyebrow when he hands you the coat you wear the most, feeling both flattered and slightly surprised that he recognises it straight away from your messy room. the boy comes to retreat his coat as well from one of the hangers in your room, and he even offers to get you your socks and boots.

“alright, alright, you don’t have to be that ready to go,” you joke. 

he makes sure there is no noise when you two walk out of your house, through the suburbs of tokyo and to the nearest train to the city. 

“aren’t you two a bit young to be here so late?” the shopkeeper, an old lady, mutters under her breath. you catch it through her croaky voice when you and lev enter the place together, but you pay no attention because all you care to focus on is the smell of broth and your empty stomach.

“for two, please,” lev says, undoubtedly hearing the woman’s remark, but answering with a smile. she smiles too, and so do you, and it makes you remember all the times he’s smiled and you’ve wanted to either punch him or hold his hand. 

today just happens to be one of those days where you want to hold his hand. you shake the thought off.

when you two are seated at the ramen bar, your head falls onto your palm, tilting back to face lev, his chin covered partly by his usual maroon scarf. you had whispered to him earlier on the train what you wanted to order, and lev quickly speaks to the waiter as your tired gaze rises from from the squiggly wooden patterns embedded in the polished wooden table to the boy that’s sitting right next to you. 

at first glance, you remember haiba lev’s face to be satisfying to look at. you remember when he had just transferred to your class in the first year, and you developed the annoying habit of looking forty-five degrees to the right every time you were bored in class, as you thought his face was much easier on the eyes than complex quadratic equations or japanese history. 

for a while you wondered if it was because he certainly looked different - not only was he practically a giant, but he had eurocentric features that stood out from the majority of the student body as well (it also didn’t help that he quite literally and figuratively filled any room he was in). though, maybe, after a while, when everyone got used to the sight of a new face, you kept your line of sight at a forty-five degree angle, just peering above his cheekbones. the same way you’re looking at him right now.

and really, the only word for it is handsome. dashing. good-looking. you’ve always known that, but now that you put it into words in your head, you notice the chiseled jaw, pointed nose and emerald green eyes feel a bit more-

“what you staring at?” his baritone voice cuts through your thoughts cleanly.

you don’t like where this conversation will go. “haiba, are you doing any college entrance exams?”

lev cocks his head to one side, thinking, before nodding, “i think i am. why?”

“how are you studying for them?”

lev clicks his tongue, and it brings you to surprise, “get your mind away from studying! we’re not here in the city at, like, one in the morning to talk about college entrance exams!”

you sigh, “okay, fine. but, still, answer my question?”

“i just do practice problems for twenty minutes every day,” lev shrugs, “okay, now, can we move away from studying?”

you hum lazily, watching as two bowls of ramen arrive at the bar. he had ordered what you told him you wanted to order, both bowls almost identical in smell, shape, size, and content. almost, because lev didn’t have any spring onions in his bowl.

“haiba,” you call, earning a quick call of your name in response, “do you not like spring onions?”

lev nods so obviously that he seems proud. his chopsticks mix the entire bowl together before picking up the half-boiled egg and eating the slice whole. when he swallows it down, he asks you, “you noticed.”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “why do you not like them? they’re like, essential.”

lev takes a slurp of his noodles, and then a spoonful of the broth, “i just never liked their texture - which is funny, since my entire family loves adding spring onions.”

now it’s your turn to slurp into your ramen, one bite turning into two, and two turning into the entire content of the bowl. lev seems to eat twice as fast, seemingly having a strategy to cooling down the hot noodles on his spoon while simultaneously folding a piece of pork charsiu in between the loops of each spoonful of noodles, making sure that the little wrap is bathed in a little bit of broth. you find yourself smiling at his act, almost like he has a system of his own when it came to eating ramen - well, he usually had a system of his own when doing just about anything.

the meal is quiet for the most part, with little mumbles of how your tea needs a refill and the ruffling sounds between sheets of tissue to wipe off the broth around your lips. it’s fulfilling, and the look on lev’s face says he’s happy too.

when you two make it out of the ramen bar, 1am feels the same as 9pm. somehow, you’re no longer the kind of sleepy you were when you were flipping through flashcards on your desk, and instead, you’re almost dreading to go home. you think it might also be the neon lights, but there’s some kind of electricity you’re not yet willing to let rest for the night.

luckily, lev doesn’t feel the need to rush. although his steps are big and his voice is loud, he takes his time when you two make the silent agreement to make the walk to the train station as long-winded as possible. his voice is lower, and softer, this time, and when he speaks to you about his friends from his old school, you convince yourself it’s the most interesting topic in the world - because it is. because it’s lev.

when he stops in his tracks, you stop too, watching him go into a small trinket shop you’ve always seen but never had the means to afford to go in. you reckon you might own something from this store, though.

“haiba, you like little trinkets?” your eyes scroll through the shelves of delicate and virtually useless items, eyes landing on a small lion cub made of clear resin with a small blob of gold floating in the middle of its clear body. you’re not usually drawn to any animal trinkets, as you’ve gotten used to decorative objects like bows or feathers or lace, but today you think about the lion cub. despite it looking severely overpriced, you take it in your hand anyway, not noticing lev’s figure coming right behind you.

“do you want that one?” you yelp in surprise when he says that, turning around to find yourself so close to him you could smell the dried raindrops on his padded coat.

“i’m pretty sure it’s overpriced. trinkets are usually overpriced anyways.”

“wait, let me check it,” you hand lev the trinket, “how much is your keychain?”

you furrow your eyebrows, “what?”

“you know, the keychain on the bag you bring to school.”

“oh,” you try to remember the time you had saved up for that keychain, “i think it was about three thousand yen? it’s overpriced. definitely.”

“well, this one’s only two thousand and five hundred. i’ll get it for you.”

“wha- lev!” you whine, “you’re going to make me feel bad- wait what’s wrong?” you see the boy freeze up in front of you, a big smile creeping onto his cheeky face.

he doesn’t reply for a bit, and you’re faced with raised cheekbones and a wide mouth. you try again, “was it something i did? or said?”

“you called me lev,” oh, you did. 

now his smile spreads from ear to ear, and it’s spreading to you. “you never call me lev.”

“huh, well.” you bite the inside of your mouth, “i guess now i do.”

it’s enough for you to let him spend over two thousand yen on a single trinket. you watch as he waits for the trinket to be wrapped neatly in pretty paper and put in a pink cardboard bag, its motif pretty enough to be its own product in the store. 

you stand by the doorframe of the store, mouth ready to open with the words ‘i’ll pay you back’. but it seems like lev had heard you from the future, and before you could do anything, he tells you, “don’t pay me back. this is my gift to you.”

“for exams?”

he grins. “you know, lev means lion in russian.”

the bell of the store rings as you two make your way out, this time really going back to the station. you answer with a ‘really?’ at his fun fact but you keep it to yourself that you’ve known ever since he first transferred and everyone had asked him about it. 

“yeah, and the thing’s a lion cub, so, it’s like you have me all the time!” 

you giggle, walking up the steps to the train platform. “you’re really something, lev.”

lev stretches his arms out, with long limbs you swear ghost your shoulder. you get that feeling again, in your hands, where you just can’t seem to understand why you want to take his hand in yours so bad, so you ask the boy if you can hold onto the bag with your trinket. lev passes it to you, and you hate how you would’ve liked for your thumb to graze over his thumb for longer. you hate it even more when he motions you onto the train, and in a blur, you take his arm, leading him to corner seats on the train. you feel your face heat up. 

ah, so that’s how it is.

now you’re conflicted. not that lev had ever made you feel uncomfortable - no, never - but you had never known how to return his obvious feelings. he would act on them, as always, and one day, as you fell asleep one day after final semester exams in the second year, leaning back into the plastic seat of a suburban tokyo metro rail (which lev thought was very dangerous), lev had muttered in the quietest and most subtle manner, ‘what do i do with my feelings?’

then, in a haze, with eyes barely open, you had moved your head from your seat to his shoulder, painting his cheeks red - dumbstruck. he thought you forgot about it the next morning, and you barely remember, so nothing happened afterwards. yet, when you think of him, you think of hues of orange peeling the sky into purple; of freshly washed school uniforms; of heads leaning on shoulders and fingers intertwined. you don’t know how to answer him.

with lev, there is chatter and laughter and blunt remarks that almost get him slapped in the face. still, there is a box, bigger than the bag your trinket is in, that contains words that you don’t think you or lev have ever said in pure daylight and wake. 

“hey, lev?”

you want to open that box.

“yeah?”

but you don’t know how to do it yet.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids.”

lev exclaims a series of ‘oooh!’s in delight. 

“was that correct?”

“um,” lev gulps, “i think so? i mean- i think so.”

but you will open it, sooner or later, and it rings in your head when you step off the train and walk into the neighbourhood. right now, nothing is different - the air is not heavier, his eyes do not sparkle like love interests do in the movies, and you do not look through a rose-coloured lens. monday is finals, and the weekend is studying. you tell yourself this.

lev stops at your doorstep, and you almost feel a sear in your chest at the thought of him leaving for the night. 

“so, good luck with next week, y/n.”

you nod, trinket bag in your hands, “you too, lev.”

you find that your arms are opening up, a small pout on your face as lev comes to wrap his arms around you, coats shuffling against each other as you hold each other at three in the morning. 

when you pull away from the hug, you start to ramble a bit, scrambling for new topics to bring up in hopes of just a few more seconds with him - that, and trying to stop yourself from your newfound want to cup this boy’s face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips. you wonder if he would be good at kissing, and you wonder how much you’ll regret having these thoughts tomorrow. 

but even conversation dies when you know it’s getting too cold, so you bid your sweet goodbyes and promise him not to overwork; he reminds you that it’s better to do short but frequent study sessions than fewer and highly intensive ones. you nod, your boots heavy on your doorstep, the hushed sound of keys in doors slowly becoming the only sound you hear as you assume lev’s left already.

until he calls your name.

your head spins fast towards the boy, watching as he makes long strides to stand at your doorway once again, scarf prodding the tip of his nose, so close to your face. he’s red.

“during exams, or tomorrow, or studying for entrance exams- if you ever get lost-” he pants, and unties his scarf from his neck.

“you’ll find me, okay?” the scarf comfortably hangs around your neck now, covering your mouth. he pats your head twice. it’s warm - literally. 

you barely get the chance to say anything before he darts out of your house with a quick goodbye. you’re left confused, flustered, and excited at once, and this time, you think you might have the words as to why. 

you like to imagine you taste sweetness, see eyes that sparkle, and feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“it might not be so bad,” you whisper, looking down at the pretty little bag containing one unnecessarily expensive item lev had bought you.

right; you have feelings for him too. 

then you make up your mind: you’ll tell him next friday. and if your finals stand between tonight and next friday, then, all the more motivation to get through them, right?

you make sure to set an alarm for seven in the morning, kanji textbooks lined up for tomorrow. 

#haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #lev x reader #haiba x reader #haiba lev imagine #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #lev scenarios #haiba scenarios #lev fluff #haiba lev #haiba lev x reader #lev haiba x reader #hq fluff #nekoma x reader #nekoma fluff

[tl-notes]

Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 11 Notes

This is ラジオ体操 radio taisou, lit. radio exercise(s). Basically it’s a short series of light stretches intended for general health. It used to be broadcast over the radio (and I guess still is), but is also on TV and internet these days too.

It’s generally popular as a morning thing to kind of get the blood flowing—some companies (apparently around 1/3rd) even have a few minutes in the morning set aside to have everyone do it. Some neighborhoods will hold outdoor public gatherings during summer break, as a morning routine thing for children while school is out. It’s also a kinda stereotypical old-person thing to do.

There are two “sets,” known as radio taisou dai ichi, and radio taisou dai ni (basically “the first” and “the second”), and each has a standing version and sit-down version for improved accessibility.

“Pound (shoulders)” here is 肩たたき kata-tataki, a type of shoulder massage that involves lightly bopping the recipient’s shoulders with the bottom of your fists. It’s a stereotypical thing for kids to do for parents/grandparents (remember the shoulder massage tickets Kanna gave Kobayashi for Father’s Day in ep 8? same thing).

I honestly have no idea how effective it is.

小林さんは安く済ませようとして、色々物を買ってしまうタイプなんでしょうか？

For clarity here, the idea is less that Kobayashi tries to buy lots of stuff for cheap, but that she wants to solve whatever problem on the cheap, and ends up wasting a bunch of money on several cheapo purchases that don’t really help.

Another angle on it might be like:

“Could she be the type who tries fixing a problem cheaply, but ends up paying more for less?”

Just a bit of trivia, but in the manga Elma answers this question about computer chairs by saying “Yes, a good one costs as much as 1,000 cream buns.” 

That’s our Elma.

Takiya’s word for “logic” here is 理屈 rikutsu. Rikutsu does mean “logic,” but it has another use too: referring to something that relies excessively on “theory” vs. practical application/real experience, or a kind of “forced” logic. 

Basically here he’s saying this out of modesty, not like “the solution was only logical.” 

This “concerning” is 危うい ayaui, an adjective describing something that’s in a perilous situation, kind of like something you’d say “balanced on a razor’s edge” of. It’s typically for less immediately physical types of danger (which would use 危ない abunai instead).

In this case, while it’s true such situations are typically “concerning,” he’s not saying this because he’s concerned per se; he’s saying that situations like Tohru’s, where emotions run high (e.g. romantic relationships), are often fragile because of that strength of emotion.

For “a little hard,” Tohru says グサッと gusa-tto. (“Sharp” was 鋭い surudoi, which is basically one-for-one.)

Gusa-tto is one of those sound effect words mentioned in previous notes, used to describe a heavy stab or pierce (literally or figuratively). (If you’ve seen that anime/manga visual gag where someone says something and the words/speech bubble “stab” the other person, that’s a more light-hearted use of this.)

I mostly bring it up here because the “he’s sharp”→”what he said cut deep” was a good pairing of evocative phrasing that we didn’t really get in the English.

この程度でいいですか？　kono teido de ii desu ka? この程度でいいよ。　　　kono teido de ii yo.

Kobayashi’s answer here is repetition of the question, but changing the “question” marker for a declarative one. Like “Is this enough?” “This is enough.”

I bring it up here for two reasons. One is just because I mentioned the whole repetition thing in a previous episode’s notes, so as an example to help drive that home.

The other is that I have a bit of an issue with the choice of the word “perfect.” Kobayashi is generally a lowkey person (with some exceptions), prone more to understatement than overstatement, so a relatively strong word like perfect is a little out of character for this scene, I would say—especially given the Japanese.

The use of the particle で de in these two lines is also worth noting. In this context (where you’re talking about whether something is what you want), de ii and ga ii have two distinct meanings. With de, it’s “good enough.” With ga, it’s not just enough, it’s actively what you want. If you’ve seen romance shows where one person has low self-esteem, you’ve likely heard a question like “boku de ii?” answered with ”kimi ga ii.”

If there’d been some sort of twist to the phrasing like that, “perfect” might have been a good choice, but as it is I’d have probably stuck with something like “Yeah, this is plenty.” (if maintaining that sentence structure anyway)

そういうもんですか？ そういうもんだよ。 分かりました。そうします。

Just one quick note for clarity on this exchange; the “that/this” they’re talking about is the “what Kobayashi wants” topic, not specifically this tail-chair thing or how fast the tail-vibrations are etc. You likely got that anyway, but I figured I’d mention just in case, since the Japanese wording felt more obvious about it.

Notably here Daddy Tohru says 知り合い shiriai, which is very explicitly a level or two removed from “friend.” (it’s often translated as “acquaintance”)

They might actually be friends and he just phrases it that way because tsundere, but either way I don’t know if I’d use “friends” here.

If you’ll recall from the Elma episode, “clairvoyance” there was 千里眼 senrigan. This is actually not that, but instead 未来視 mirai-shi, which is more or less literally “future sight.” It probably won’t really come up again(?), but just as a world-building thing I guess, know that this guy and Elma don’t actually have exactly the same power (at least in this instance).

The word for “lost control” here is 暴走した bousou shita, which does basically mean that.

I would, however, like to point out that he’s not necessarily saying Tohru lost control of herself. Bousou means that [whatever] is running wild, but that ranges from a runaway train, to someone going berserk, to someone acting rashly without consulting others.

My point in bringing it up is that “lost control” sounds like Tohru had little/no agency in the decision to storm the enemy’s home ground, which is not really the case and not necessarily implied in the Japanese.

When Kobayashi responds here, she says she, Kobayashi, will be the one getting looked after by Tohru, not the other way around. She flips it 180 degrees from how Dad here says it.

(Since, y’know, Tohru’s the maid and everything.)

Example alt text:

“Make sure you take good care of Tohru until your lifespan runs out.”

“Yessir, I’ll have her take good care of me.”

It’s supposed to give this very heavy and serious scene a bit of levity to end on.

(For the Japanese students: she says [面倒を]見てもらいます, meaning that Kobayashi is having Tohru do the “looking [after].” If she was the one doing the looking after, it would be something like 見させてもらいます instead.

When you stick もらう or いただく after a verb, it’s you having someone else do that verb, not you doing it, so to make it work for “you” being the verb-doer, you have to flip the verb to a passive form. It’s kind of like the difference between “please [verb]” and “please allow me to [verb]”.)

どうしてトールがうちに来てくれる気になったのか

Two small things about this line. First: the “came here” is うちにきてくれる uchi ni kite kureru. The two words I want to mention are uchi, which is like “my/our place” (like “wanna come to my place?”), and kureru, which is used as a helping verb to denote that a verb was done for someone else.

So basically the Japanese adds two extra layers of… emotion(?) to the “came here.” That is, “here” is specified as Kobayashi’s home (vs “here” being more vague and could just mean “this world”), and the “came” is conjugated in a way that expresses Kobayashi sees Tohru’s .

The second, more minor, is that it seems like the English took the 気になった ki ni natta and changed it from talking about Tohru to talking about Kobayashi.

Ki ni naru can mean to take an interest in something (“I’m curious”), or when attached to a verb, can mean “got the will/motivation to do [verb].” In this sentence, it’s attached to the verb phrase uchi ni kite kureru, so meaning more like “why you chose to come here.”

(That said you could easily leave the “curious to hear” part there in the English too though, since that still makes sense for her asking a question like this.)

(Basically the English reads like a translation of どうしてトールがここに来たのか気になった instead of the line in question.)

So like as an example alt:

“I’m curious what moved you to come live with me.”

Which still doesn’t fully grasp that kureru, since that’s a hard thing to just “slip in” in English, but does hit a few other relevant notes and should still be okay length-wise (cursed subtitle restrictions!).

The phrase for “[move] to the big city” here is 上京 joukyou. It combines the characters for “up” and “capital” (of a state/country) and is used as a verb for moving to the capital—these days, specifically Tokyo.

(It used to mean moving to Kyoto, and I’m told it annoys some old-school Kyoto-ites if you use it to say moving from Kyoto to Tokyo, lol.)

#maidragon #Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon #translation notes #anime

[malewifegradyruewen]

An Untitled Original Work, Part 8

y'all are either gonna love me or hate me-

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Gina was pissed, to say the least. Stupid, oblivious Leo, and stupid, oblivious her. What a pair.

Leo had always been oblivious, so she really couldn’t blame him, but it was her own mistakes that really set her off. Sure, they were her mistakes, but that didn’t make them sting less.

Put it out of your mind. That’s over now, and now we can… try again.

After they’d left, she and Sammie had decided that they should go to Gina’s, just to hang out. The only reason Gina had agreed was because she knew her dad had taken her youngest siblings to their grandma’s, and the oldest two of her younger siblings wouldn’t bother her. They might have even gone over to a friend’s house, leaving the Weathers residence vacant.

“So, what did you think? Salt & Pepper, it was good, right?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had formed.

“Yeah, it was pretty good! Leo was right, the mocha was pretty good.”

She knew Sammie didn’t mean any harm, but hearing Leo’s name brought a bitter taste to Gina’s mouth. She did her best to swallow it before asking, “Have you ever dyed your hair?”

So she was taking the easy way out of discussing what had happened at the café. There was nothing wrong with that, especially because Gina wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but they didn’t need to talk about it. Right now, she needed a distraction, something guaranteed.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Sammie admitted. “I never had the chance, I guess.”

“How would you feel about maybe, I dunno, doing that at my house?” Gina asked. “I’ve got a couple colours. I accidentally bought some for light hair, too, so that’s been sitting in my closet for a while now.”

Sammie hesitated. Gina could tell she wanted to, but still. It wasn’t something most people did on the fly. Changing your colour was one thing, but doing it for the first time was usually a bigger decision.

“You don’t have to,” Gina added. “Or we can do just like, a little bit. Streaks or ends or-” She gasped. “Under layer would look so good!”

With that, Sammie seemed won over. “Why not? What colours do you have?”

“For light hair, I think pink and blue. And then I have some that’s for darker hair, purple and green and red. And brown. I dunno. Probably pink or blue for you.”

“Pink, for sure.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Gina said as they pulled into her driveway. She quickly parked outside and hopped out of the car. “Do you want a soda or something? We’ve got some in the garage.”

She led Sammie into the garage and to an old, white fridge. Sammie pulled it open and Gina grabbed a Sprite. “Go on, you can take something.”

Sammie grabbed a Sprite of her own before closing the fridge. Gina then pulled open the door to the back hall, a tiny doorway that led into the kitchen. “Shoes on or off?” Sammie asked.

“Either one,” Gina said. “I keep mine in my room.” She then bolted upstairs. “My room’s up here.”

As Gina walked down the narrow hallway, she suddenly felt very… inadequate. Everything seemed too small, too dirty, too embarrassing. It never felt like this when Mally or Andre were over, because they’d been coming over since they were little. But somehow, Sammie seeing it for the first time as a high schooler, the most judgemental group of people on the planet, terrified Gina. What if this was it? Maybe Sammie would stop hanging out with her. Plus, there was the added terror of having your crush see your bedroom. That usually didn’t happen so early, did it?

Gina ran out of time to go over worst-case scenarios as she opened her bedroom door. Luckily, she’d cleaned up a bit before going to pick Sammie up, so it wasn’t too bad. Her bed was made, there were no dirty underwear on the floor, and the dresser was organised.

“Aww, your room is so cute!” Sammie said as Gina stepped out of the way to let her in. “The nail polish is so fun!” She pointed to the row that Gina had lined up in colour order. There were only maybe a dozen bottles, but they took up a decent amount of room on her dresser.

“Thanks,” Gina said as she internally sighed a sigh of relief. “Maybe we can paint our nails later, if we have time.”

“That would be fun,” Sammie agreed.

Gina could tell that there was something Sammie wasn’t saying, but she decided not to push. “Okay, here’s the hair dye,” she said as she opened her closet and grabbed a small plastic basket off the floor. “Here’s the pink.”

She tossed the box to Sammie, who caught it with ease. “Should we do this in the bathroom, and do you have some old towels?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” She reached into her closet again and grabbed two stained towels. “I know they look gross but they’re clean, I promise. I just washed them.”

“That’s okay,” Sammie said as she took one of the towels from Gina. “Here, you put the basket away. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right next door, first door on the right,” Gina said, sliding the basket back and closing her small closet. She followed Sammie into the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s first?” asked Sammie as she opened the box.

“You should wash your hair. I can do that in the sink, and then I have some clips in the sink so we only dye the bottom layer.”

“Alright, I’m doing this!” Sammie said as she placed one of the towels around her neck like a cape.

“We’re doing this! Here, I’m gonna go grab a chair so you can sit by the sink,” Gina said. She ran back downstairs to the garage, grabbed an old folding chair, and brought it back up. When she got back to the bathroom, she found that Sammie had found a handful of hair clips in a drawer and had pulled the gloves out of the box.

“Here.” She set the chair down facing the wall. “Sit.”

Sammie sat as Gina grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower. She put them on the counter next to the sink and turned the water on. “Sit back so your hair’s actually in the sink.”

Gina could see Sammie hesitate. “Hey, it’s not too late to chicken out. I still haven’t been able to do Mally’s. You’re fine if you don’t wanna do it.”

“No, I wanna,” Sammie said. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be! This stuff is only semi-permanent anyways, so it won’t last for more than six weeks, if you wash it the same amount as usual.”

Gina could see Sammie take a deep breath before sitting back. “Let’s go!”

She placed Sammie’s hair in the sink and started washing it. “So, how do you like it here?”

“I like it. It’s different from where I lived before, but I like the people here. I think I found a good group, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gina said as she started adding shampoo. “Good crew. I’ve known Mally and Andre since elementary school. I think we’re all pretty likeable.”

“Yeah, and the other people in my classes are nice, too,” Sammie said. “Not that I’d hang out with most of them, but they’re nice.”

“Mhm,” Gina said absentmindedly as she rinsed the shampoo and started combing conditioner through Sammie’s hair.

“I can’t wait to just get to know more people, you know? Like I’ve been talking with some of my other classmates and I forgot how fun it is to talk to different people and get their perspectives on things.”

“Yeah,” Gina agreed. “Sit up, your hair is clean. I gotta dry it a bit.”

Sammie leaned forward in the chair as Gina pulled the towel that was sitting on her shoulders up to rub her hair dry. “I’m overall liking it here. I was nervous, but everyone has been really nice and no one’s really bullied me or anything.”

“Yeah, most of the people at our school are nice. It’s actually not too bad. I’ve heard South is way more toxic than our school.” Gina grabbed the clips and then pulled a comb out of one of the drawers. “Hold these,” she said, handing the clips to Sammie. She then ran the comb around Sammie’s head, grabbing the top section with one hand and a clip with the other. “Turn around, does that look good?”

“Yeah, that’s not too much,” Sammie said as she looked in the mirror.

“Okay, I’m gonna straighten out the part there then. Uh, you can continue what you were saying,” Gina said as Sammie turned back to face the wall.

“It’s just a decent environment, better than my old school. Even the worst people here are generally better than at my old school.”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “Okay, hair dye next. You ready?”

“Do it.”

“Okay,” Gina said as she slid on the gloves and opened the package of dye. She mixed it up and started scooping small handfuls onto Sammie’s hair. “Yeah, I’d say the worst person at our school is probably Logan, and she’s pretty bad, so the people at your school must have been terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Sammie said. “She’s in my English, and she seems pretty nice.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair. “She’s rude and a bully.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen that,” Sammie admitted. “She seems pretty… normal, I guess.”

“Don’t hang out with her, trust me. Mally and Andre can vouch for me. Just don’t.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

They sat in silence, Gina combing her fingers through Sammie’s hair to make sure it was fully covered. “Your hair looks good, now we wait,” she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them in the garbage next to the toilet. “Uh, do you wanna do nails while we wait?”

“Sure,” Sammie said. “I can do yours, if you go grab colours.”

Gina nodded before heading back to her room. That was… strange, right? How Sammie had talked about Logan? What was up with the two of them, anyways? Gina wasn’t sure, but hopefully it was just a misunderstanding on Sammie’s part. Logan was bad news, and the two of them hanging out was worse news.

She grabbed a couple colours; sparkly black and her favourite purple. She brought them back to the bathroom and sat down on the floor in front of Sammie. She’d been doing something on her phone while Gina was in her room, and Gina sat for a moment before she put her phone away. “Sorry, I had to respond to a couple messages.”

“That’s okay. Here, here’s my colours.” She put one hand up and Sammie opened the bottle of purple. She started applying the colour with an ease Gina had never been able to master.

“We should listen to music,” Gina said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She opened her Spotify and scrolled through her playlists until she found one that wouldn’t totally embarrass her.

“Oh, this is a bop,” she said as the first song came on.

“Oh, yeah!” Sammie said, grinning. She started singing along. “You would not believe your eyes…”

Gina joined in. “If ten million fireflies…”

“Lit up the world as I fell asleep,” they sang in unison. They sang the whole song, relishing each other’s company. By the time the song was over, the first coat on Gina’s nails was finished, and Sammie was on the second coat.

“That was good,” Sammie said, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” Gina laughed. “Ooh, this next one is good. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when…”

“So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” Sammie joined in. She finished the final coat of polish on Gina’s nails before the song ended.

“Alright, your nails are done, just let them dry and we can rinse my hair.”

“The bottom drawer on your left, there’s a hair dryer. We can dry my nails faster,” Gina said. She paused the music as Sammie plugged it in. She put her hands out in front of her as Sammie turned it on and aimed it at Gina’s nails.

They sat in relative silence, the only noise being the hair dryer. Not quite silence, but one sound enveloping the small room. After about five minutes, Sammie turned it off and said, “Try that.”

Gina tentatively touched her pinky nail. “Dry,” she said, standing up. “Now for your hair.”

She turned the sink back on as Sammie leaned back once more. Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair, turning the water in the sink bright pink. After a few minutes of rinsing, she said, “I think you’re good. Let’s blow it dry.”

Sammie handed her the dryer from where it had been sitting in her lap. Gina switched it on and started blow drying her friend’s hair. She pulled the clip out and ran her fingers through until she determined it was dry. Gina turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it. “Ready for the final reveal?”

Sammie nodded with a nervous smile. She stood up and turned around. “Oh my gosh I love it!” she cried. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you!”

Gina smiled. “It turned out nicely,” she said. “Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous too.”

“You were?” Sammie asked. “You did it so well! I can’t stop looking at it!”

“Ah, it was nothing. But my nails! You made it look so easy! I always get it all over my fingers and then have to wipe it off.”

“I did my nails a lot in middle school.”

“Makes sense.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gina added, “We should clean this up, and it’s getting late. I can drive you home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. A ride would be great.” Sammie grabbed the towel and the chair and asked, “Where do these go?”

“Uh, the towel can go on the hook behind the door there,” Gina pointed. “And the chair goes in the garage. Do you mind taking it down there while I finish cleaning up the garbage?”

Sammie nodded and took the chair downstairs. Gina grabbed the rest of the garbage, threw it away, and brought the nail polish and the rest of the hair dye back to her room. She set them on her dresser and ran downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said to Sammie as she entered the garage. She hopped in the driver’s seat as Sammie climbed in next to her.

“This was fun,” Sammie said Gina started backing out.

“Yeah, it was.” Gina realised this was the perfect time to admit something that had been pulling at her stomach all week. “Uh, Sammie, uh, I dunno how to say this. It’s only been, what, a week since you came, but I really-” She stopped herself and swallowed.

“I like you.”

The words hung there, suspended between them for what felt like an eternity. Gina couldn’t take her eyes off the road, wouldn't let herself. She was scared, but she couldn't take the words back.

Sammie gulped loudly enough for Gina to hear before saying, “I think I might like you.”

They didn’t live far apart, and that short ride had already brought them into Sammie’s driveway. Gina parked and neither girl said anything. She turned to face Sammie and saw Sammie staring at her.

Gina could see Sammie unbuckle her seatbelt, but nothing could have prepared her for Sammie to lean over and kiss her. It was so sudden, she hadn’t even registered what was happening until it was over. Sammie had opened the door and was climbing out of the car.

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door shut and ran into the house, and just like that, she was gone.

Gina sat there, absolutely shocked. Of all the things she had expected to happen that day, that was not one of them. But Sammie had disappeared inside. There was nothing for Gina to do except drive home and hold the secret tight. That experience, that moment, was going to stay in this car, and Gina couldn't do anything about it, so she didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she drove home and tried not to think about it. After all, what else could she do?

#jolie's shitty writing

[alisarb]

the nature of frenchie and kimiko’s relationship

in every frenchie-kimiko video about their relationship there’s always someone commenting how much they ship it and there’s always someone else pointing out that their relationship in the comics is like father and daughter

so, being the obsessive shipper that I am and weirdly overthinking everything about a tv show because i can’t enjoy things like normal people, i decided to write this post to defend why I think their relationship in the show (and even a bit in the comics) is anything BUT paternal, and why their relationship in tv vs. comics is so different

(please bear in mind this is my opinion and in no way i wanna force ships onto anyone, you’re free to interpret stories and ship characters however you want!!)

Okay, the first thing we learn about frenchie in the show is that he is a man of many skills: in his own words, a gunrunner by trade, but with a very particular niche. we also learn he used to be a hitman, probably, and then he talks about his victims like scars he has to carry forever. he’s the first character apart from hughie that expresses some kind of remorse in the show about killing someone up until that point in the show (and i know it’s only the second episode, but by then we’d already seen quite enough violence)

he’s a layered character from the beginning, going from what looks like a man who likes his pills way too much and who seems dangerous to someone who actually has more to offer. still, he has other personality traits that differentiate him from the rest: frenchie describes himself as a womanizer in a conversation with m.m, who he mocks for being in a loving relationship with his wife. he “goes to sleep every night next to someone different.” we’ve met cherie by then but we can assume they are not really in a relationship by this statement, more like a casual lovers situation

and then, like a joke from fate, he meets kimiko. and from the very beginning they form a connection like no other. one can argue that their earlier interactions are kinda sweet and tender and not romantic at all, but from what i see, they share the kind of intimacy that most tv couples wish they could convey without even touching. their chemistry is undeniable 

on top of that, as their relationship progresses, kimiko begins to return the affection. she goes from this killing machine that can’t stand to be touched to initiate contact with (and only) frenchie, because he’s her source of comfort and reassuring. at mesmer’s, kimiko looks at him because he’s the only person that she can trust and the first one to show her kindness in who knows how long

the rest of the group is understandably wary of kimiko, as she has proved to brutal and ruthless. frenchie is the only one who understands her, and that’s why he frees her that first time: to give her a choice 

in exchange, when they are at mesmer’s,he asks her to show them what he sees, and she complies. because she doesn’t trust the rest yet, but she trusts frenchie. and even with that first vision he doesn’t doubt for a second that she can’t be just a terrorist. so kimiko shares with them and relives her trauma: the murder of her parents, being removed from her home and sent to a camp with her brother, being forced to become a soldier, being injected with compound v and becoming a supe with a talent for mass murder just to be locked in a cage like an animal... 

the look they share after that revelation is anything but platonic and/or paternal:

LOOK AT MM AND BUTCHER. BUTCHER IS LIKE WTF AND M.M SHRUGGED LIKE “NOTHING TO BE DONE HE’S IN LOVE YOUR HONOR”

sorry about the excitement this scene makes me wanna squeal with delight

shortly after, kimiko is watching shark week again and frenchie comes up to her to talk about vought and how they’re hurting people like they hurt her, how she could help them stop it. at first kimiko keeps staring at the TV and looks defensive, but the moment he says: “it’s your choice, if you wanna go back and look for your brother i’ll take you to the airport” she looks at him, surprised. 

because he keeps giving her a choice, which is the core of their relatiionship

and, as another user pointed out in a post a while ago, if you watched the show with the captions on (as i did bc english is not my native language) as she holds his hand, you can hear and read that shark week talks about mating and how if a female shark returns the male’s feelings will make some sort of move. one could think that this was accidental but c’mon, this show doesn’t leave anything a coincidence 

it’s clear from the beginning that frenchie is completely smitten with her. in fact, we see small glimpses of him literally OBSESSING over her from the beginning: he meets with cherie to get the gas to sedate kimiko and we learn he hasn’t been with her in a while. i’m sure he was plenty busy with the whole vought + kimiko situation, but at that point they were all living separately and they returned to their places even if it was less frequently than usual (and cherie seemed to spend a lot of time in his place, if not even living there)

he cooks for her when she’s chained and then later on he teaches her HOW TO BAKE my heart 

I could keep listing every moment when Frenchie looks at Kimiko (because his eyes inevitably follow her at any scene) or how the rest of The Boys is so aware of what they are (”you’re dating a terrorist”/”your crazy ass girlfriend”), and (SPOILERS SEASON 2 STOP READING FOR A SECOND) in the s2 we see how Frenchie is dog tired, probably angry and frustrated, and his face automatically changes when Kimiko goes to show him the origami piece. He smiles sweetly because she makes him happy, and amidst all the chaos they are going through one of his main worries is still Kimiko and how to understand and communicate with her.

END OF SPOILRS SEASON 2 

One of the last moments is in the finale, when Kimiko is finally pulling herself back together after years of abuse and mistreatment by brushing her hair, wearing pretty clothes or painting her nails. Simple acts that make her feel like she’s a person. When she comes out of the bathroom, he looks at her with pure AWE. He even says “look at you, mon coeur”, because it’s like she’s the prettiest thing he’s seen. When the gas comes into the room he pushes her into the bathroom first thing. 

M.M’s face at the end when they’re surrounded and he sees Frenchie hitting his head against the wall because even though he’s been shot he only wants to go get Kimiko, I think it says everything. His face when he talks about Kimiko and how she made him a better person. The way he pulled the hair out of her face. 

I really love how everything is coming together this new season, so now I’d like to address the main issue of this post: the nature of their relationship and how it’s nothing like the comics. 

There’s a very basic reason to why I believe their relationship is romantic, and not only by the actors’ interactions in Instagram, or the way Amazon promotes their relationship, but because the comics are so different from the tv show. 

Every character’s background story is changed, and so are their motivations, personalities and, as far as we’ve seen, their storylines. In the show they’ve made it pretty clear that Kimiko and Frenchie share a connection that resembles that of a soulmate. 

And even in the comics, (spoiler) when they’re about to die, Frenchie turns around and tells her that he’s loved her since the beginning. I don’t think that’s very father-like. 

In conclusion, it’s likely that they’ll make us wait for a long time before we get more romantic interaction (especially since Kimiko is growing as a character and that might mean she might need to grow on her own, which I think is great), but it’s been clear since the beginning that they are meant to be. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL 

#kimiko #frenchie x kimiko #frenchie #kimiko x frenchie #the boys #prime video #the boys prime video #they are so precious and i love them so much #they deserve everything #never thought i'd be so in deep with a straight couple again #but oh boy here we are

[minghaocouture]

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader Genre: Collage AU, Fluff, the tiniest angst Warning: Minor self esteem issues (from reader), Language WC: 2.9K

A/N: @woozisnoots​​ my sweetie baby! This is your Holiday gift from me!! I wub yoooou and i hope you like this <333 The song mentioned in the fic is Tell me you love me by Bolbbalgan4 and i actually just kept listening to it on repeat while writing this lol, it’s such a cute song, and all the italic words are song lyrics (the english translations)! Also yes i shamelessly name dropped our friend group in this, don’t judge me

“You don’t accept my hi as usual I know you’re popular and handsome  but you’ve always given the cold shoulder Only to me.” 

The lyrics flowed easily from your lips and into the microphone, eyes closed as you felt the vibes of the chorus and attempted to put the right layers of emotion into the song as you did so. The instrumental paused just as the chorus ended you heard the familiar sound of your partner through the headphones.

“Can you run that one more time. Hold that last note a bit longer, and make the staccato in the first beginning a bit sharper.” On the other side of the glass sat Lee Jihoon, and the brains behind the operation despite this being a partnered project. At the beginning of this, you never would have thought that the two of you would have been working together so well. Not with how the project began. 

You gave him an affirmation of your understanding and he began from the end of the pre-chorus, letting the melody and his test vocals fill your ears just before you began again.

When you had first been assigned partners, you were less than enthused. Sure, you had a major crush on Jihoon, his passion for music inspired you and you always loved watching him in class when he would perform. But, he was notoriously a rather critical partner. During the last partnered project in class a close friend of yours, Binu, had been assigned to work with him. She ended up confessing that she didn’t really get too much of a say on anything and that Jihoon did the project mostly by himself. Needless to say, she was much happier with this project being partnered with your mutual friend Mar. 

The recording session wrapped up nicely and you began packing your things as you realized how late it was in the evening and your friends would start to get concerned if they didn’t hear back from you. So you pulled your phone from your bag and quickly messaged your group chat to let them know the situation. As you went to place your bag over your shoulder you heard the familiar sound of a stomach growling.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room and watched Jihoon sigh and sit back down at the recording booth, his laptop still open but he didn’t look like he had any intention of leaving to get sustenance. Much to your own surprise you decided to speak up.

“Hey, I was planning on grabbing some dinner. Did...you wanna come too? We’ve been here for a while and we could probably use some food.” You suggested, an inviting smile plastered itself onto your face. You hoped it didn’t seem fake, after all you had invited Jihoon to eat before and he had always denied the offer. 

Much like all previous times, you saw his rather small head shake in denial.

“Nah, I’ve got some stuff to finish up here. I’ll probably grab something before heading back to my dorms...or maybe I’ll ask Mingyu to pick me up some dinner.” You’d heard about Mingyu before, his roommate who he says he tolerates but you can tell that he does really care about the guy from how he talks about it. 

Most people say that Jihoon is hard to read and closed off, but you know they’re wrong. He just...emotes differently, he has his own ways of showing affection and you can see it in his eyes and the little things he does and says. Being around him like this has honestly only made your crush worse. 

“Well, alright, but you better eat something and go home tonight. I don’t wanna come back here tomorrow and see you in this same outfit cause you haven’t gone home.” Which...had happened on more than one occasion during this project.

He shrugged, not turning back to face you.

“I brought extra clothes this time.”

***

“Seriously? I can’t believe he said no again! Ugh, I hate him and you deserve better than to pine after that short stack!” Rolling your eyes as you listened to Krys ranting once again. 

Since Jihoon refuted your invitation you decided to invite out your best friends. The 5 of you heading to a nearby fried chicken place, crowding into the booth that your friend group had basically claimed (when it was available at least) 

“It’s fine Krys, he’s just really into his work. He’s probably going to be in the studio editing until all hours of the morning.” You explained before shoving some of the complimentary salad into your mouth as you took a break from the chicken itself. “I might even take him some food before I head back to the dorms.”

“Nu-uh! I’m not letting you! That boy doesn’t even talk to you outside of class, he doesn’t deserve your time or your energy!” Krys exclaimed.

“I mean, he kinda does. Talk to her, I mean he waved at her last week.” Maya brought up in between her unsuccessful attempts at stealing the rest of the table’s pickled radish. “We were walking to the lounge and she saw him and waved at him, and he finally waved back.”

“Oh what, after ignoring her for a whole semester? Real nice of him. My best friend deserves better!” She declared, aggressively taking another bite of her chicken before continuing. “If I weren’t already dating the best man in the whole world, I would just date you myself.”

This brought the rest of the table another fit of laughter. It was never a dull moment in your friend group and you were always grateful that you had them in your life. 

“This just in, Krys won’t leave big dick Wonwoo so her best friend can have a good relationship.” Mar joked, cackling at the thought. The laughter seemed to get worse when she realized that Wonwoo himself had just walked up to the table to set down a drink refill for Binu. The male’s face was flushed red, obviously having heard the conversation. Which prompted another round of joyful laughter from the group.

It was a good night, but your mind still drifted back to Jihoon, who was most likely still sitting alone in the studio, hungry yet still hard at work. As the conversation drifted away from you finally, you got Wonwoo’s attention and ordered a small meal for take out with a plan to deliver the food before returning home. Even if Krys would give you shit for it.

***

“Jihoon, it’s me” You knocked on the studio door as you entered, assuming you wouldn’t be interrupting anything since you saw the light on but heard now sounds from inside. Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly, you got no response as you entered. Simply making your way in despite any acknowledgement.

The more surprising thing was what you found once you entered. There, still sitting in the rolly chair with his head firmly planted on the desk in front of his work laptop was Lee Jihoon. Fast asleep, small snores leaving his frame as he dreamed. It would honestly be pretty cute if it weren’t for the fact that you knew this was probably happening because of how much he overworked himself. 

You let out a small sigh, placing the bag on the small coffee table in the room (you didn’t want to set it on the desk with all the equipment) and grabbed his jacket that he had tossed onto the nearby sofa before draping it over his shoulders. You couldn’t really do much more for him without lifting the male up and transferring him to the couch, and you were pretty sure he would wake up if you even attempted that. 

“Night Jihoon.” With that final goodbye you exited the room and returned back to your dorm to get some homework done for a few of your other classes.

It was about 2:30 the next morning when your phone vibrated, indicating a message. Sparing a glance to the device you read the familiar name ‘Lee Jihoon’ as the sender. The message was no more than a simple “Thank you.” but that was good enough for you.

***

As you expected, even being the harmony vocals for the song Jihoon’s talent far outshined your main vocals. You weren’t upset or anything, but you were definitely starting to regret letting him talk you into the main vocal position for this project. You didn’t even really have any commentary to or feedback to give him. His voice fit the song perfectly and you could feel the emotion in his words as he sang. 

When he exited the booth and took a seat on the sofa to take a break you spoke up.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be the one leading the song?” You questioned, head tilted to the side a bit as you watched him gulp down a bottle of water. Your words took him off guard and he fixed you with a rather confused look, so you continued. “I mean, you have such a great voice and I really think you capture the emotion in the song better than I do. So like…”

“What are you talking about?” He cut off your ramblings before you could continue, his eyes staring intently into your own. “You have an amazing voice, I’m literally blown away anytime you step into the booth. It’s part of the reason I was glad we got partnered for this project.”

It was almost as if your brain had short circuited, you didn’t know what to say. He had never spoken about your singing like that before, much less admit that he was...glad you were his partner. A part of you worried that he was lying just to spare your feelings, but the logical part knew that Jihoon wasn’t someone who would waste the energy to do that. 

“Let me put it this way,” he began again. “If I didn’t think you were doing a good job, if i thought your vocals would get us points docked off, then I wouldn’t have let you sing the Main. Got it?” His gaze seemed to pierce right to your very soul and you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue back and decided to just take his word for it. So you simply nodded a response.

It seemed that Jihoon wasn’t done surprising you tonight, as a smile so tender made its way onto his face. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, you could feel the heat rushing to your face and you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud throbbing of your heart as he watched you. 

The moment was soon broken by the loud blaring of a familiar pop song, Jihoon’s face dropping at the sound. He quickly grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and put it up to his ear. You decided to be polite and at least try not to listen in, pulling out your own phone and messaging the group chat to see what was up.

“What do you want, Mingyu?” He began, definitely sounding more irritated than before he had taken the call. You couldn’t hear the voice on the other end but from the gumbling that left Jihoon’s lips you wouldn’t have been surprised if his roommate was pushing his buttons for whatever reason.

“No. I’m not and you need to stop asking. I’m working right now.” He paused for a moment, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as if that would make you unable to hear him. “Yes, she’s here too, so stop asking. Mingy-” He groaned as the male on the other end seemed to cut him off, you weren’t too sure with what but now you could vaguely hear the loud voice of his roommate on the line and couldn’t help laughing softly. The sound causing Jihoon’s eyes to flicker over to you, causing your heart to skip a beat as you quickly tried to make it seem like you were just laughing at something on your phone. 

“Shut it. We’ll talk when I get home...yes i’m coming back tonight!” With an irritated sigh, Jihoon ended the call. You weren’t sure he gave Mingyu any time to give a farewell but if you were being honest the conversation had been pretty amusing. 

Setting his phone down on the couch, Jihoon let out a sigh and ran a hand through his thick black locks. A silence falling over the two of you as you typed away on your phone, trying not to make eye contact again. You were so engrossed with your act you didn’t even hear when Jihoon stood from the couch and made his way over to the chair you were currently occupying. 

“Before we call it, could you re-record from the bridge to the end. When I was editing it last night there was some feedback so I wanted to get a better recording.”

“Oh, um yeah sure!” You weren’t sure why he hadn’t mentioned that before, and you didn’t recall hearing any feedback from your vocals when he was recording. But still, you took him at his word and entered the small recording booth once again. 

“I’ll start from just before the bridge.” He said over the speakers once your headphones were pulled snuggly over your ears. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before nodding and signaling him to start.

“I really like you a lot But do you think we can’t be together? I feel small in my school uniform skirt Looking big on me, Yeah The tall, pretty girls are all around you.  Oh whoa~”

Getting through the bridge you poured your emotions into it. Thinking about your feelings for Jihoon and the longing for him to feel the same for you. Honestly, through this whole process the song the two of you had written was so...cathartic for you. Expressing things you never verbalized, how despite your attempts Jihoon never really spoke to you outside of class but he always seemed so kind when you were working. Or how, because of his looks and his talent he seemed to be surrounded by girls who thought he was wonderful. 

“If you like me, or you love me Just say yes, yes, yes And then I’m your girlfriend And your my boyfriend Tell me you like me.”

The last few chords streamed through your headphones and a silence fell over the room. Just as you were about to take the headphones off you heard a voice come through, the familiar voice of your partner and crush.

“I like you...a lot.” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, almost positive that you had misheard him. Eyes quickly landing on him, watching him through the glass. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but through the tint you could see the soft pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears as his eyes stared down at the desk.

“Don’t say anything. I just...wanted to let you know. The reason I didn’t want to sing the main vocals is because I was worried you would be able to tell.” He continued, eyes still not lifting from the table to meet your gaze. “All of the lyrics I added were about you. I just...changed the pronouns.” 

It was unbelievable to think that Lee Jihoon could possibly love you back. He was too...wonderful, and the fact that the both of you had used this song to express those feelings was almost unreal. 

Thinking back on it, on all the interactions you had attempted to have with him outside of class. You realized that he wasn’t ignoring you, his eyes had always met your own but he was just uncertain.  He had lacked the confidence to speak to you despite your obvious interest in him. It made your pinning seem silly now. 

You still honored his wishes and said nothing, simply taking the headphones off and draping them onto the music stand before exiting the booth. Stopping right next to the object of your affections.

“Jihoon, look at me? Please?” Hesitantly, his gaze turned to you and he looked flustered, more flustered than you had ever seen him. “I like you too, a whole lot.” 

Your words had his eyes lighting up, a look of disbelief crossing his face as you continued.

“Could I...would it be alright if I kiss you?” Before today, you had only ever imagined kissing Jihoon. What it would be like had been nothing more than a small fantasy that you thought about, but seeing him nod looking away still flustered, it almost seemed to good to be anything more than a dream. 

Hesitantly, you reached out a hand to caress his cheek, your heart speeding up as he lifted a hand to press over your own. When your lips met, it was like the stars had aligned. 

It wasn’t a perfect kiss, it was shy and soft but the emotion you felt simply from his lips pressing back against your own was enough to cause your heart to soar. It was like two puzzle pieces finding one another how well his lips felt against your own. You decided in that moment that he would get to hear everyday how much you absolutely loved him, he would never need to ask or hesitate again. Cause that’s what kind of love you wanted to give him, and all you needed to do was say it. 

#caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kdiner #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt scenario #woozi x reader #woozi imagine #woozi scenario #jihoon x reader #jihoon imagine #jihoon scenario

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 18

Chapter 18 is finally here! Damn this was one hard chapter for me...enjoy!

Chapter 18: Heroes

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Gris sighed as she watched her various clones run off to different directions, slumping against an empty can of cat food.

It’s been two hours since Marinette became Banshee.

There was no sign of Ladybird and with Queen Bee out of commission, Gris wondered if they were even able to take this Victim down. 

While Master Fu assured her that things will work out, Gris couldn’t help but feel-

“Mice have been deployed. How are things on your side?” Gris said into her comms, waiting for her partners' updates. She let out a deep breath, watching it merge with the fog. 

She can’t let herself lose hope...not yet.

“It’s difficult to ensure that no one will get swept up by my plan.” Ryuuko spoke. “Because I have thought of one.”

“There aren’t any civilians in the streets in our area at the moment. Carapace and I just confirmed that.” Chat managed to answer. “So if you have a plan, go ahead and try what you have in mind.”

“On it.” Ryuuko said, the girl looking at the fog covering all of Paris. “Wind Dragon!” 

She watched herself turn into the wind, flying up until she bursted through the layer of fog. Returning half of her body into her original state, Ryuuko summoned her katana, only to find out it had turned into an epee. 

It reminded her of the one she often carried in her civilian form, a fencing sword that had been passed on from her grandfather to her mother, and then to her. The only difference between the two were the colors. While the family heirloom was red in color, the one in her hands is black.

Only the handle and button were two other colors. The tip was now white while the handle was decorated in gold and white.

Realizing she was distracted by her epee’s elegance, Ryuuko meditated for a while before her eyes shot open.

Letting out a battle cry, Ryuuko let out an attack, the slash not making a single effect at the dense fog beneath her.

Returning to her wind form, Ryuuko decided to move on to Plan B. 

Stretching out her hands, she focused her strength and summoned gusts of winds, the streams of wind circling around all of Paris.

“Ryuuko! What are you doing?” She heard Chat yell at her through the comms. “If you continue to do that, you’ll-”

“Do not worry Chat. I’ll make sure to not exert myself.” Ryuuko promised. With an ‘alright, be safe’ and a click, Ryuuko went back to work.

—

Wally didn’t know how long he was sitting on the cold ground, still trying to process what the hell happened to him.

“-y! Wally! Can you hear me?” Wally managed to recognize Barry’s concern, pulling his hands out of his hair and instead wrapped them around himself. 

He was still shaking. 

He can’t give them a reason to barge in...even if he -and possibly the Miraculous Team- were in dire need of help. “Wally.” He heard him say again. 

Tiredly, Wally chose to finally answer him. 

“I’m alright.” Wally tried to assure. He hated how he was able to hear his own scattered heartbeat despite talking through the comms. 

“Wally. We know-” 

“No, you don’t know what’s going on here.” Wally growled, trembling as he attempted to get up, only for his legs to give in.

“Wally, we do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“A miraculous wielder going out of control is not something to be trifled with.” He heard Diana say in the background along with what seemed to be chairs slightly scraping the floor. 

“Do...do you have me on speaker?” Wally asked, his anger slipping out. 

“Wally. It’s all over international news.” He heard Barry say, Wally feeling his heart stop and anger dissipate. 

Was it always on the news? He was pretty sure Amira-

“She’s the one who was in charge of blocking the media.” Wally muttered, getting up from his spot on the ground. “Amira was doing damage control all this time and-“ Wally let out a groan and a huff. “Barry, I need to go.”

“Wally. Don’t you-“

“Amira is in trouble and you guys aren’t allowed to help because some people decided it was a good idea to force her to join the Justice league…” Silence came from the other end of the comms. “But even if you guys aren’t allowed in Paris, I know of a few who are.”

“Wally, please-”

“I know what I’m doing. They’re the only ones who can help Amira right now.” With that, Wally turned off the comms and took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Amira.”

—

Barbara dropped the cup of coffee in her hand, the chair she was in toppling over when she quickly got up. She listened as fine china got crushed with each hesitant step she took towards Tim.

“Amira...Amira got what?”

“Babs, listen. Amira-” Tim started, only to be grabbed and made to face Barbara.

“Isn’t that bad? To be akumatized? At least that’s what B’s reports say-what exactly-” 

“What happened to Amira is none of your business.” Dick replied for Tim, Selina following right behind him. Judging from their getup and the duffel bags slung on their arms, they were heading somewhere...but she knew where. 

Paris. 

“Let me go with you.” Barbara demanded, setting Tim down. “Please, Richard. Let me help you. Let me help Amira. She’s-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Selina cut off.

“Please!” Barbara begged. “Amira is my friend, we need to-”

“We,” Dick said, gesturing to himself and Selina, “will be the only ones who will be going. You and Tim are to remain-”

“No.” Barbara said, taking in a deep breath. “I’m going with you.”

“Barbara. You and Amira didn’t exactly end on good terms. If you go and she sees that you’re-”

“So that’s why you don’t want me to go.” Barbara stated, curling her hands. “You think I might agitate her more and cause her to cause more damage if she sees me.” She took his silence as a yes. “Then at least...at least let me help you through the comms. After all, you’re going to need as many eyes as you can in this mission.”

Richard looked over his shoulder, Selina’s huff and smirk being enough to let him know her opinion. 

“Alright. But you are to listen to all my instructions to a ‘t,’ understood?” Dick commanded, Barbara wanting to grin at her small victory.

“Yes!”

Tim watched as the trio walked to the zeta beam, Selina graciously setting the coordinates to the one in Paris.  

Within a few seconds, they were on their way to rescuing Amira. 

--

Carapace hit the back of his head against the brick wall as he leaned back to take a rest. 

“Where the hell can she be?” He asked himself, wondering where Banshee hid Lila. 

He had already checked all the possible places she would have hidden her, but didn’t find the missing girls. 

The school was empty. 

The bakery was empty. 

The park was empty. 

The zoo also held no clues. 

All of the museums had no sign of Lila being there nor Banshee. 

Not even Grévin Museum, Marinette’s favorite place to go during her free time.

He had looked at every possible place Marinette had gone or visited in Paris and he hadn’t found Lila, not even a single clue that could lead to finding her. 

Carapace went to reach his comm to update the team about his dilemma, only to find his hand simply hovering over it. 

“Why exactly did you choose me, Ladybird?” Nino asked her one night, Ladybird looking at him in curiosity. “Why me when there are so many other people who are more well equipped for this?”

He watched as Ladybird hummed, her eyes seeing something he could not.

“Not every person who I saw as a candidate was as loyal and protective as you were. Half tried to stand their ground, only to give up. Some quickly backed down when they realized the possible consequences if they kept trying to defend their beliefs or friends. But you,” Ladybird smiled at him. “You stood your ground while doubt circled around you. You remained undeterred and firm when others criticized your choices. That’s why I picked you.”

“Because you had the courage to protect what was important to you.” Carapace reminded himself, frowning at himself.

He couldn’t just give up...he had to keep looking.

Surging with new confidence, Carapace decided to update the others. “Still got nothing on Lila or Banshee. I’m going to start checking other locations, but if anyone else has any ideas on what other places-”

“What places have you checked? Perhaps we can help.” A new voice said within their comms, startling the team. For Chat, it sounded oddly familiar.

“Chat, what’s going on?” Ryuuko asked, Chat realizing that she asked him through her miraculous’ comm.

Who was this? And...English? Chat thought as he went back to answer the newcomer.

“Identify yourself.” Cat Noir demanded, wondering how this person got into their system.

“Who we are doesn’t matter. We came to help you.” Another voice joined, Chat wondering how many had hacked into their system.

“How do we know you aren’t on Hawkmoth’s side? How can we trust you if you-”

“Marinette is my friend. I can’t just sit by and do nothing while I know there is something I can do.” The second voice said, Gris being able to hear the frustration in her voice.

“Chat, it seems like they actually want to help us.” Chat heard Gris tell him through her miraculous. 

“That isn’t enough to convince me that you’re on our side.” Chat told the newcomers.

“We know how her powers work.” Another voice joined in, this time, male. He sounded as if he was around their age. Perhaps a year or two older than them.

“So do we.”

“We also have an idea of the item where the akuma is hidden.” Another male voice said, caused Chat’s mind to come to a halt. Why did it sound familiar? “Adding on to the akuma power, those are the two main facts we have to help bring Marinette back.”

Carapace waited with baited breath as he awaited for Chat’s response, wondering what exactly was going through his mind. 

“Seems like you’re on our side. But even if you don’t want to drop your names, at least give us some code names we can refer to each of you.” Ryuuko heard Chat say, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

So they’re allies.

“Alright. I’m Corvus.” The familiar male voice replied.

“Osprey.” The first female voice said.

“Oriole.” The other male responded.

“Felis.” 

“Alright then.” Chat replied, quickly changing over to the miraculous comms. “Team, we have new allies. We’ll be using our translators while using the regular comms to ensure our communications go smoothly and prevent confusion.”

“How exactly do we-”

“Don’t worry. I’ll explain it right now.”

--

“Do you think we got through to them?” Wally asked, watching Barbara not lift her eyes for a second from the monitors in front of her.

Her hands moved quickly across the keyboard, not leaving a single room for error as she hooked up a program to hack into the Parisian street cameras and home security cameras. 

Wally had hesitantly agreed to letting Barbara use Amira’s computer to hack into the team’s comms and then this.  

Hope Amira didn’t mind. 

“I hope we did.” Dick confessed. “Also, why Oriole?” 

“Well, you started with Corvus and then Barbara said Osprey so I said Oriole to keep with the bird theme.” Wally replies, hearing Selina’s chuckle through the comm. “Of course, I should’ve known-”

“Corvus.” Dick heard Chat say, Wally annoyed that he was interrupted..

“Still here.”

“Welcome to the team...now, let’s review what each of us know about the situation while Carapace and Gris continue to search for Banshee.”

“Alright.”

—

It was cold. 

It was dark. 

She hated it...and that’s saying something from a Gothamite who’s used to the dark. 

Amira lifted her eyelids, watching as she climbed stairs she never once climbed. After all, she always used to just zip to the top. She tried to stop herself, but could barely control her own body. 

“Banshee.” A voice whispered to her. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hawkmoth.” She acknowledged, stopping mid flight.

“How are things going?” 

“Wonderfully.” She answered back...but she knew it wasn’t her... “Lila is getting what she deserves just as we speak. That harlot will pay for-“

“As wonderful as that sounds, there is still one part of the deal that is yet to be completed.”

“Don’t worry. I’m working on it. Just be pa-” She heard herself snarl when she felt a ring pang through her head, causing her to fold over. 

She clutched her head between her forearms, wanting the pain to go away as it intensified with each passing second. 

“Were you just about to say patient? Must I remind you who the one in charge here is?” 

Banshee let out a whimper as she felt her body stiffen. “I suggest you hurry up and keep your end of the deal. After all, I kept mine.”

Banshee growled as Hawkmoth released his control over her, allowing her to relax. But just as she had been let go, she could feel something whirl within her. It was frustrated, annoyed, pissed...hurt.

In that split second, Amira could actually see what was in front of her. 

She was able to feel the vile power running within her. 

Looking down at the pitch black dress on her, Amira let out a horrified gasp, feeling all the memories surge up into her mind at once. She didn’t register the tears that ran down her face nor her raspy breaths as she brought her black laced hands closer to face.

She could feel the rapid rises and falls of her chest as she slowly observed how vile the black felt on her. How disgusted she was in herself.

She finally let out a scream, wrapping her arms around her, not thinking about anything else but the consequences of having shown her emotions earlier that day.

How naive she was to believe she could handle being a vigilante…

How wrong she was…

No wonder…

No wonder her father said those things to her...because he saw...

He saw how flawed she was…

How immature she had grown to be...

How stupid she was to think she was in the right all these years when in reality...he was the one who was right…

Who is right...

She really wasn’t prepared…

Not prepared at all…

She was no hero, not even a vigilante…

She was a damn failure from the very start...

--

“-also check places where- what the hell is going on?” Corvus whispered into the comms as he stopped himself from jumping onto the next building. As much as he feared the shaking ground, there was something else that he feared.

The fog beneath him was starting to thicken even more, spots that were lights were now dimmer, almost invisible. He couldn’t move any further with all of this!

“Everyone! It seems like-” Ryuuko was about to speak, only to be cut off by a shriek in the comms.

“Oriole!” Osprey yelled, Gris hearing screams and things being thrashed around heard in the background through Oriole’s side. “Oriole! What’s going on!”

“Osprey! What’s-” Dick could feel his panic rising.

“Oriole -he just - he just collapsed and started screaming, calling for...Mimi. He won’t stop-” She was cut off by some static, the team wondering what the hell was going on. 

‘Mimi? Must be some dear to him.’ Gris thought to herself, but she couldn’t help but notice how quiet the Birds and Cat Team got, wondering why they weren’t worrying over their teammate.

That made her wonder...

Why were they willing to help them to try and help Marinette so badly? What exactly is their relationship with her? Because as far as Gris knew, Marinette didn’t have many friends. 

But then again, even with the friends she did have, Marinette wasn’t exactly open with them either. Yes, they’ve known her for roughly four months, but even then, they didn’t know much about their beloved friend.

“It’s Banshee.” Gris heard Ryuuko said shakily. “She’s enhancing her strength by using her own powers against herself!”

“We have to stop her!” 

“But how?”

“Leave that to us.” Ryuuko heard Felis say. 

“Is Oriole-” Chat started, only to get cut off.

“He’s alright. But he also confirmed one of our theories that would help us to counter Banshee’s power.” Chat heard Felis say.

“Counter? How exactly-”

“Don’t worry about the how. Worry about the when.” Chat heard Corvus say.

“When? Don’t tell me you plan on going right now?”

“Of course not. If my team heads now, then we won't be able to know where Rossi is hidden.” Chat listened as a glass clinked together on Corvus’ side. “We’ll wait for Carapace, Gris or Oriole to locate the girl first. When we know she’s safe, that’s when my team will strike.

We need to make sure that Rossi is safe or else our entire plan will fail.”

--

Lila clawed at her throat, trying to scrape away the itchiness within her. To try and get rid of the dry lumps that were growing by the minute. 

She couldn’t breath. It hurt. It burned.

Her eyes continued to sting, Lila feeling the tears continuing to pool beneath her. They hurt even with the low amount of light around her.

The only thing that had managed to ground her a bit was the cold ground her body was so desperately against. 

A cold embrace that gave her a break from the endless insults thrown her way for the past...hours? Days?

Lila froze when she heard a sound in the distance, curling into herself. She covered her face with her arms, trying her best to not let out a single whimper. 

She bit her tongue as she heard the sound get closer to her, daring herself to sit upwards.

She listened as the sound began to become clearer...listening as footsteps drew near to her.

Lila didn’t dare to lift her head to see whether it really was someone coming or not. She wasn’t going to risk to keep seeing the illusions, the hallucinations she’s been hearing all this time.

After all, compared to all that she had been going through, this was a nice change of pace.

She listened as the footsteps grew louder, each step echoing throughout the dim place she was in.

She listened and listened, each passing second causing her heartbeat to quicken. 

Then they stopped. 

Stopping right in front of her.

They placed a hand on her shoulder.

So it wasn’t just another nightmare. This was real.

Slowly lifting her head, Lila had wished this was just another nightmare because the minute she saw that needle in the man’s hand, she felt her heart stop.

Letting out a piercing scream, Lila tried to get away from the person in front of her, but her legs gave in.

Lila screamed and tried to claw herself away from the person who pulled her closer to them, but all that she managed to grasp was the gravel that dug into her palms, blood seeping from the wounds.

She continued to scream even as she was then pinned down beneath the man, feeling something stab her arm.

As soon as the needle pierced her skin, Lila felt a wave of relief. A peace so needed, Lila relished in the ecstasy, feeling herself drift to sleep.

--

Bruce looked at the girl beneath him and then at the syringe in his hand. 

To think that Amira was the one who caused all this. And to think that worked perfectly against Banshee’s powers…

He had to report back. Taking out a phone, Bruce quickly typed into it and then tucked it away. 

He looked at the girl who was now peacefully sleeping on the ground, knowing that he had to leave soon despite wanting to take the girl to a safer location.

Squeaks started to become audible, Bruce taking that as his cue to leave. 

--

“Gris! We have a possible clue to where Rossi might be!” Carapace heard Osprey exclaim.

“Where?” And how? She wanted to ask. 

Carapace and her had tried every possible way to track Lila, Carapace having checked different surveillance cameras while Gris deployed all of her clones to search for her, only for their efforts to be in vain. 

How did they easily find her within an hour?

“She’s in the catacombs.” Gris sucked in a breath. The catacombs? As in-

“Are you sure that’s where she’s at?” Gris managed to calm herself, sending a signal to the closest clone to check it out. Why the catacombs of all places?

“Yes. Some home security cameras managed to capture when Banshee took Lila there through one of the many entrances scattered throughout Paris.” 

“I’m on my way!” Gris reported, switching perspectives from her original form and the one closest to the catacombs.

She ran down the dusty steps, running past the narrow tunnel that felt like it could come crumbling down at any moment. But when got to the end of that tunnel, Gris froze. 

Is this why?

Is this why Banshee kept Lila down here?

Gris stood face to face with a wall of human skulls and bones, arranged in symmetrical patterns. Skull, bone, bone, bone, skull. Each skull was placed equally away from each other, the bones in between neatly arranged to be pointed in the same direction. 

The musty air and debris free floor kept Gris from moving forward, but she knew she couldn’t just stand there. She had to find Lila and now.

Taking a step forward, Gris let out a wail as she mustered the courage to take the other. 

But the stare of the eight foot wall of skulls looking back at her…

Prying her eyes from it, Gris ran past the wall, turning corners only to face another structure with the soulless remains of those before her.

Columns, archs, pillars and even crosses appeared before her, causing Gris to feel goosebumps emerge on her skin.

If that wasn’t enough, every corner that Gris took, she just couldn’t seem to get out of the loop she placed herself in. She even tried to stop and recollect herself only to realize that each fork in the path looked the same. Each corner and pillar she passed looked just like the one before.

Was…

Was she lost?

“-is! Gris! What’s going on? You haven’t talked to us in the past half hour. Gris!” She finally heard Chat saying, Gris coming to a halt.

Half an hour? She had been running around this maze...for half an hour? 

Dropping her transformation, Sabrina slumped to the ground and brought her knees to her chest, letting out a shuddering breath out. 

“Sabrina.” Mullo coaxed. “Are you alright?”

“Gris. Are you still there?”

“I...I can’t…” Sabrina sniffled out, digging her head further into her knees. She held back a wail, biting her tongue in hopes to shift her attention from her thoughts. But it failed. “I can’t…” A hiccup escaped her as she hovered her hand over her comms.

“Gris...where are you?” She heard Carapace ask her a second before she turned off her comm, not wanting to hear anyone at the moment. “I don’t know about you, but I asked Ladybird why she chose me.” Sabrina jumped when her burner phone talked, Sabrina taking it out to see the message flashing across the screen.

Chat said Ladybird had planned on giving it to her the next time they met, but Chat saw it just to give it to her now.  

A phone especially created by civilian Ladybird just for those that were part of the team. 

Team...like if she even belonged in it.

“Sabrina, we have to keep-”

“What’s the point Mullo?” Sabrina wiped off her tears, letting out another sniffle. “I’m useless. Worthless. I should’ve been able to track down Lila’s location, but I couldn’t. Osprey, on the other hand, was able to locate her in less than an hour! Don’t you see Mullo? I’m supposed to be the brains of the team like Osprey, but I messed up! I messed up even more when I got lost, mocking Osprey’s hard work of finding Lila’s location. What’s the point of continuing if I’m just going to keep holding everyone ba-”

“Snap out of it!” Mullo yelled, Sabrina feeling paws rest against her hand. “This isn’t like you Sabrina! Not one bit!” Sabrina pursed her lips, throwing her head back into her knees. “Sabrina! Don’t you remember why Ladybird chose you? You, the girl that no one sees?”

“Well, thank you for the-ow!” Sabrina yelped, retracting her hand from Mullo’s mouth. “Why did you bite-”

“Ladybird didn’t choose the quitter sitting in front of me! She chose the girl who’s ambition to make friends through kindness caught not only her attention, but heart as well. The girl who’s info gathering and intelligence flourished and allowed her to achieve the goal she wanted. A selfless girl disguised as a selfish, ambitious one.” Mullo nuzzled against Sabrina’s cheek. “Ladybird needs you to help the team and keep them moving, we need you to make this fight a victory and as for Marinette,” Mullo looked straight into Sabrina’s eyes, “Marinette needs you -her friend- to save her.”

Sabrina watched as Mullo smiled at her. “So then Sabrina...what’s your decision? Will you continue to mope around here or continue to fight alongside your friends to save a friend? Which will it be?”

Sabrina looked down at the mouse miraculous around her neck, placing the pendant in the palm of her hand. The silver locket was opened with ease, displaying Sabrina and her father on the left side while a picture of her, Chloe and Marinette were on the other.

“Isn’t it obvious, Mullo?” Sabrina got up shakily. “Mullo, get squeaky!”

--

“-not picking up.”  Osprey heard Chat say through the comms, wanting to say something to comfort them, but what can she say?

She didn’t know them, neither as the vigilantes they were now nor their civilian forms. What can she say to comfort them in a time like this? When a friend is the force they’re up against?

“Sorry everyone. Had to replenish for a bit. But I found Lila! The target has been secured! Quickly transporting to the designated destination.”

Felis heard an audible sigh of relief echoing within the comms, letting herself smile at this tiny victory. After all, this was just one step towards the big one.

“Phase one has been completed. You know what this means.” Corvus relayed.

“Ryuuko, you’re up.” Chat cleared up.

“On it.”

--

It was cold. Colder than usual.

Heavy fog was sitting all around her, but Banshee didn’t care.

Banshee looked at her hands, finding them covered in tears. Frowning at them, she shook them off before continuing her ascendance up the stairs, smiling at the fact that she was able to make Lila feel the same pain as she did. 

But her victory was short lived. 

The high whistling of wind snapped her attention, her eyes narrowing when she watched the fog starting to gather near the UNESCO World Heritage Centre, watching as the accumulated fog swirled in circles. 

She snarled when a large hole in the cloudy sky appeared, allowing that morning’s sunlight to pierce through, dispersing the fog into nothing.

The city of Paris is now clear of her terror. 

Now there, hovering in the air, was a single hero.

A hero...a ray of hope.

Banshee gritted her teeth together, feeling her annoyance starting to spike. 

“Banshee. It seems as if they’re onto you. But this is it. Takes this chance to engage them and  take their-”

“Banshee!” A voice called out, a voice that sounded...familiar…

Banshee remained still while her eyes darted around to see who dared to face her. As she scanned the area, she found them. Standing a flight above her was a man cladded in black, the only color on him was the blue domino mask across his face. Escrima sticks were prying from behind him.

“Who are you?” Banshee asked, not moving a step. 

“Who I am shouldn’t matter. What should matter is the fight that is about to happen!” 

Banshee scowled as the man charged at her, Banshee managing to dodge all of his attacks. But she wondered, why didn’t she want to touch him? Why did she hesitate to place a hand on him?

In that self monologue, she must’ve gotten distracted, feeling a hand connect with her stomach, causing her to stumble, her side hitting the railing beside them. She felt bile daring to rise to the surface.

“Mi!” The man yelled, grabbing Banshee by her wrist, his hand over-

“You let your guard down!” Banshee grinned, clasping her hand over his wrist, causing the man to let go of her and slump. She watched as the man cowered away from her, murmuring incoherent sentences. 

“Corvus!” A voice yelled, a woman now appearing, wearing a skin-tight unitard, Banshee feeling something in her head begin to ring. She watched as the woman took out a needle with what seemed to be clear blue substance. She began to inject it into the man, something clicking inside Banshee.

“Dad. What’s that?” Amira asked her father, watching as he packed away some vials into his utility belt. It was another day of keeping Gotham safe, Amira already planning on bringing some homework to keep her company while she awaited for her father’s return.

“Antidotes that work against Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin.” She heard her father say, watching as he double checked his equipment. 

“Have...have you ever been...hit by it?” Amira dared to ask, already knowing the answer to that. 

“I have...it’s one of the worst feelings in the world.” Bruce said, placing his belt back into its case.

Amira watched as her father ran a hand over the case before turning his attention back to Amira. “Why don’t the two of us go see if Alfred needs any help in the kitchen? How does that sound?”

“He’ll probably kick us out. Remember what happened last time?” Amira referred to the last time her father tried to help Alfred make pasta. She watched as her father let out a laugh, a laugh that made her follow along and laugh as well.

Banshee was snapped from her thoughts when she felt something mere inches away from her face. 

She tried to avoid the incoming fist coming at her but noticed a whip constricting her movements. So instead of taking a step back, she took a step to the side, connecting her heel with the back of Corvus’ head and twirled her way towards the woman.

Making it seem as if she was about to use her leg again to attack, Banshee let out a laugh when the woman prepared to block her kick only for the two to connect foreheads. With the slight release of hold, Banshee freed herself and held the woman’s hand between her hands, grinning as the woman looked at her with tears pooling in her eyes.

“Mi!” Banshee clicked her tongue as she watched Corvus come for her again, the two exchanging blows, Banshee dodging all of the blows her way but not being able to land one herself. “Mi! You have to stop this! Fight it back!” Corvus yelled, Banshee noticing that he was by the woman’s side, administering the same needle she had seen just moments ago.

“My name’s Banshee. I’m not this Mi you speak of.”

“Mi, try to remember! Remember!” Corvus yelled, this time taking out his escrima sticks, Banshee taking a step back when she saw the tips of them spark. “Mi, I don’t-”

“I’m not Mi! I’m Banshee!” Banshee yelled, charging once more, feeling her mind muddle even more.

She kept fighting, exchanging blows with Corvus and avoiding the woman. She often got close to landing a blow on either of them before someone in the distance would interfere.

Glaring at the hero in the distance, Banshee knew she wasn’t going to be able to win this fight unless she thought of something...and fast!

When Corvus once more charged towards her, she tried to grab him again, only to be grabbed by her wrist and pinned down.

Banshee squirmed as the woman approached Corvus, Banshee glaring at her as she did. 

“Felis. Give the signal.” Corvus told Felis, Banshee remaining still as she watched Felis talk with someone else on the other end of their comms. “Banshee. No...Mi. Just wait a little longer. We’ll get you out of this-”

“Fools, the lot of you.” Banshee said, grinning. “You two were so worried about being touched by me that you forgot one thing.”

Corvus let those words sink in as he watched Banshee look down to her hands that were-

“Don’t do it!” Corvus yelled, watching as Banshee clasped her hands together, letting out a shriek so deafening, it caused both Corvus and Felis to collapse, their screams scattering into the wind. 

--

Just when things were turning for the better, it went back to square one.

Seconds after Corvus and Felis had managed to take down Banshee and gave orders to commence the next phase, Chat watched as fog started to pour down from the top of the Eiffel Tower followed by a piercing screech. 

“Corvus, what the hell is going on?” He demanded, but got nothing on his end. “Corvus! Give me a-“

“He’s down!” Osprey replied, Chat hearing rustling in the background. He could also hear clicking and glass clink against one another. 

“What’s going-”

“Banshee used her power against herself, meaning she revitalized her control on those she’s touched. In other words-“

“She managed to escape our hold.” Chat gritted his teeth. 

Just when they were so close! “We need to hurry and-“

“Don’t you dare go after her right now.” Osprey threatened. 

“You can’t-“

“If I remember correctly, Lila wasn’t the only one affect by Banshee’s power. Wasn’t there someone else?”

Chat froze. 

How did he forget about Chloé? And not only once, but twice! “Guessing by your silence, there is. I’ll be going to your location to drop off an antidote that’s been confirmed to work against Banshee’s power.”

“Antidote? Confirmed?” Chat whispered. 

“Remember how we told you that Oriole was touched and had relapsed? Well, back where we come from, we face a villain with similar powers, but without the magic. When Oriole told us how Banshee’s power worked, we wondered if the antidote we made would work in this case. Corvus managed to prove our theory correct. They do indeed work the same way.”

Chat remained stunned, soaking in the new information.

They weren’t Parisians? They fought against people who were just as powerful as Banshee...but without magic? “Oh! Carapace is right here! I’ll just send Carapace your wa-”

“No. He’ll be giving the straight to both Lila and the other victim.” Chat found himself saying, crouching towards the floor. 

He couldn’t face Chloe right now...he just couldn’t.

“Sure?” He heard Carapace asking him.

“Yea.”

“With that settled, I’m going to be moving to Plan B. Meet you at the rendezvous!” 

With that last order from Osprey, Chat got back up and let a single tear fall down his face.

He’s supposed to be the one in command and yet here he was, just sitting at the sidelines, doing nothing. 

“Just what kind of leader am I?”

--

“Amira.” A voice whispered to her, Amira wondering who was calling her. “Amira.” There it was again, and as much as Amira wanted to know who it was, she couldn’t open her eyes to see who it was. She couldn’t move a single muscle, not being able to respond to the voice that kept calling her. A voice that begged her to wake up.

A voice that she’s never heard before but for some reason, she felt as if she’s heard it once before...many, many years ago.

--

Banshee felt heavy, exhausted, watching another tear drip off of the tip of her nose and join the pool of tears by her hands.

She never registered the yells and shouts of Ryuuko attempting to get rid of the new fog surrounding the Eiffel Tower.

“Amira.” A voice called out, causing Banshee to look up, noticing the lack of a neon purple mask around her face.

Was it not Hawkmoth who called out to her? “Amira.”

There it was again. “Amira.”

“Who’s talking?” Banshee yelled out, getting up to see no one in front of her nor behind her. She walked up the stairs, hearing the metal creak beneath her feet.

“Amira, did you forget me already?” The voice called out, Banshee turning to see who spoke to her.

“Ja...son?” Amira could feel herself losing herself when she saw him in front of her. “Jason...what are you doing here, in Paris?”

“Amira...why are you doing this?” Jason asked her, stepping closer to her, causing Amira to step back. 

“Sta-stay back! I might hurt you!”

“You say that and yet there’s already so many you’ve already hurt before me.” Jason told her, causing her to freeze. “Or am I wrong?” 

Amira felt her voice stuck in her throat. “N-No! I didn’t-”

“Are you really going to deny hurting Selina? Dick? Are you?”

“N-no! I-I! It wasn’t me! It was Hawkmoth! He-”

“He may have given you the power, but in the end, it was your decision on whether or not to use it. And you decided to use it against not only your family, but on friends as well...like Chloe...and Wally.”

Amira hung her head, feeling the tears spilling without her permission. “I didn’t-”

“Stop making excuses, Amira! Open your damn eyes!” Jason yelled at her, shaking her shoulders. “Are you even Amira? The Bat’s daughter, my sister?” Jason asked. “What happened to the Amira I knew? Where did she go?”

“I-I!” Amira tried to find the words, but none came out. “Jason, listen, I- Jason?” She called out when she saw no one in front of her. All she saw was her akumatized bracelet on the floor in front of her.

“-chance Banshee! Use this to get Chat Noir’s mira-”

Had she been hallucinating this entire time? Didn’t matter, she had something far more important to think about.

“NO!” Amira yelled, disgusted by the neon purple mask hovering against her face. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to help-”

She collapsed to the floor once again, her head on the verge of exploding.

“Banshee! I am the one who gave you your powers so you are to do-”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Banshee screamed as her head began to ache, a ringing that wouldn’t dare stop. 

“How dare you defile me! I’m the one who gave you power, I’m the one who is allowing you to-“

“You...gave me...nothing.” Amira snarled between waves of pain. “All you’ve done is manipulate me. Nothing more, nothing less. You took advantage of my anger and rage, took it and made it into a weapon. 

A weapon you had planned to use against Ladybird and Chat Noir. Using me to gain some measly-“

“Oh dear child. That’s where you’re wrong.” The neon purple mask hovering over Banshee’s face flowed even brighter, allowing Banshee to see in front of her. “Ladybird and Chat Noir’s miraculouses are more than just magical pieces of jewelry. 

When placed together, they grant a single wish. As for what wish, you will know it once I get-”

“Get your hands on? As, in on the miraculouses?” Amira chuckled. “Well, guess what? I won’t let you.” Amira declared, getting up. “I won’t let you hurt my friends anymore for your own goal, I won’t let you get your hands on those miraculouses! I won’t let you win, Hawkmoth! I wo-!”

Amira screamed as she fell to the floor once again, resisting the urge to clutch her head to soothe the pain.

“Foolish girl! You don’t-”

“It’s you who is the fool!” Amira reminded, sitting up, almost falling back down as her arm almost gave in. She watched as the neon purple light around her face flickered. “You may think you are the one in charge, but you aren’t. I am!” Amira yelled, grasping the neon light mask hovering above her face, causing the mask to shatter to tiny pieces of glass and for her to writhe in pain.

She continued to kick around as her heart was being wrung, silent screaming escaping her as she gasped for air. 

She watched as she continued to flail, wondering if anyone would get to her in time.

She wonder if this is how-

“Amira!” She heard someone yell, but she couldn’t turn to see who it was. Didn’t matter as Wally’s face soon made it to her vision, Amira feeling her chest hurt even more when she saw how red his eyes were. “Amira, don’t worry! We’ll-”

“Smash it.” Amira found herself saying, looking over to where Wally had barely missed stepping on the akumatized bracelet. 

“What?”

“Step...on..it…” Amira said again. “Then take my earrings.” A wince. “Tikki will help from there.” She managed to say in two breaths.

“But what-”

“Hurry!” Amira wheezed out, hating how her vision kept swinging between pitch blackness and her tunneled vision. 

At least she was able to hear Wally crush her bracelet and Tikki’s voice before finally succumbing to the darkness.

“Amira!”

--

“Don’t be bemused! It’s just the news! 

After seven grueling hours, our heroes have finally done it!” The news channel showed off the Eiffel Tower, free of fog and a swarm of ladybugs gathering at the top. “They’ve placed evil back into its place!” Then, the ladybugs dispersed, many Parisians watching how little there was this time around compared to other fights. ”They’ve once more proven to be a team to be reckoned with. 

Thank you. Thank you for keeping us safe, Miracle Team. You guys are truly Paris’ pride and joy...our heroes!”

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#maribat #amira wayne