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teamconductors · 2 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Lost Tracks of Time, Chapter 2

Summary: A glimpse from the time before the twins reunited. Ingo’s first missions as a pokemon rescuer were rocky ones, especially with his temporary teammate, Lian the Sliggoo.

Author’s Note: Thank you for the support of the first chapter! I was very surprised and flattered and honored. I cannot emphasize it enough, THANK YOU! I wasn't sure if I'd delve deeper into this world, but now I'm glad I am.

My apologies for making the second chapter with mostly only Ingo, but I wanted to show why he was having issues finding a partner for his team and just generally how he was before finding Emmet. Spoiler: he was a sadder boy.

As usual, thanks to @furiouskettle for the designs for Ingo and Emmet and inspiration for this AU.

(Shippers DNI)

Long before Ingo and Emmet found each other, Guildmaster Irida and her assistant Chatot spent a solid afternoon catching Ingo up to speed with the concept of mystery dungeons and guilds. Irida thankfully possessed patience that only a mother or shopkeeper usually had.

“…And with that, we will give you one explorer’s starter kit,” said Irida. She relaxed in her chair and took a deep breath, exhausted. “Chatot?”

Chatot just finished reworking Irida’s schedule and was drafting his formal complaint letter to Lady Sneasler about her unannounced visit and the strange Sneasel she literally dropped off at their feet. Hearing Irida’s request, he stopped writing and promptly grabbed a prepared box for Ingo and placed it in front of the Sneasel, stepping away as though Ingo would scratch him if too close.

Ingo opened the box. He grabbed the first thing he saw: a badge with decorative wings and a pink gem in the center.

“That’s your guild badge,” Irida said. “It represents your status as a Pearl Guild member. It also allows you to rescue clients. Wear it with pride.”

Next, Ingo picked up an over-the-shoulder bag, which he promptly opened and found a blank map. “That is your official satchel and map,” Chatot said. “It’s blank now, but when you enter a mystery dungeon, it will keep track of the layout of the immediate area. Then when you get to a new area, the map erases itself and begins filling itself out for the new area! Isn’t that useful~?”

“Mystery dungeons are vast, seemingly never-ending areas,” Irida explained. “You will find multitudes of items lying around. Feel free to pick them up and use them. It could be the difference between life and death.”

Ingo threw the bag over his shoulder, shortening the strap to better fit his small body. He looked into the box one more time and found a strange scarf. He rubbed the scarf between his claws, slightly wincing from the rough, repulsive texture.

“And that is a defense scarf!” Chatot said. “Dungeons are dangerous places, so make sure you equip items that will improve your chances of survival.”

“I thank you for the gift,” Ingo said. “But I do not think I will need it.”

“What? Why?” Chatot’s feathers ruffled up.

“My uniform is the only thing I need.” Ingo tipped his hat to Chatot and Irida. After awaking in a foreign body, the coat and cap brought a sense of familiarity and comfort.

“O-Okay… T-Tomorrow will be your first mission,” Irida said. “You don’t have a partner yet, so I will assign one for just the one day. Report next morning to Lian, and he will show you the ropes of being a pokemon explorer and rescuer.”

***

Lian the Sliggoo slept inside his shell on his haybed. Lian’s role in the guild involved not only tending to the various plants and inner workings of the guild but also acting as the mentor for brand new recruits.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what exactly the pokemon Irida assigned to him was like until it was too late.

“Good morning!” Ingo shouted outside Lian’s tent.

Lian shouted and jumped out of his shell. He scrambled in his bed until he got up and opened the tent entrance. He looked at the Sneasel with the strange cap and oversized black coat and immediately realized the sky was dark blue with a sliver of light peaking from the mountains. “You’re Ingo, right? It’s not even sunrise yet, what are ya doin’ up so early?”

“The earlier we complete safety checks, the better,” Ingo said. “It’s time to start our engines and get on track to a good day’s work.”

“I suppose ya have a point, and your enthusiasm is mighty fine,” Lian said while standing back up and adjusting his heal ribbon around his neck. “But there’s no need to get up this early. The shops are still closed, and the job board hasn’t been updated yet.”

“Nonsense! There is no such thing as being too early to prep for the day. Come, let’s go!”

“This is gonna be a long day, isn’t it…” Lian said under his breath.

***

“This is the job board!” Lian gestured with vigor to the bulletin boards behind him. “It’s lookin’ a little sparse right now because the boards get new requests in an hour, but we can still look at the ones here.” He turned around so that he and Ingo both faced the boards. “They’re organized by ranking, and the ranking is based on the dungeon. The deadlier the dungeon, the higher the rank. You’re a no star, so let’s pick a rank D job or two.”

Ingo and Lian scanned over the papers on the board. Ingo immediately noticed the nature of the jobs: pokemon lost and scared in unfamiliar territories, names and list of crimes of wanted outlaws, friends and siblings separated from each other…

“Here we go!” Lian grabbed two papers from the board. “One’s a rescue mission, one’s a bounty, and both are in Obsidian Field. This is perfect for a newbie!”

“Th-then the Obsidian Field is our destination! Let’s begin safety protocol and exit the station!”

“Sure thing, fella.”

***

On the outside, the Obsidian Field appeared as a prairie amongst hills with tall grass and long dirt roads and only the rare remains of dilapidated buildings acting as landmarks. Once inside, however, Ingo began to comprehend the ‘mystery’ part of the name ‘mystery dungeons’. Despite circling backwards multiple times (or at least it felt like it from his sense of direction), he and Lian found themselves in completely different areas. The pokemon here could only be described a small, but Ingo knew better than to underestimate them, especially since he was still new to being a pokemon.

“Do you know the feeling of déjà vu, Lian?” Ingo asked.

“Oh, yeah. That’s probably because of the changin’ dungeon layout. You’ll get used to it soon, Ingo,” Lian said.

“No, that’s not it. I… feel like I’ve been at this location before. The vague image in my mind does not exactly match this Obsidian Field, but… but… no, I lost my train of thought. Please forgive me.” Ingo frowned more. “Between traversing an unfamiliar track and my own mind simultaneously, I believe I am failing at both.”

“Well, you’re doin’ pretty great….” Lian said. He recalled Ingo collecting scattered items and identified sleeping pokemon that Lian himself failed to notice.

“I think my troubles originate from a decoupling within me.” Before Lian could ask what ‘decoupling’ meant, Ingo continued. “This Sneasel body is foreign to me. I remember having hands with fingers, not curved claws. I had no fur, let alone the ability to produce poison. I even remember being taller and not having my coat drag along the floor.” He tugged at his coat, observing the frayed ends. “Despite my difficulty with battling pokemon, however, I feel like I know the theory well. You observe your foe, deducing their tactics, and reading their moves before striking back. That is how you battle, but why I am I so confident about that when I thought I was a human?”

“A human? Uh, you know they haven’t existed for… I don’t even know how long, but they’ve been long gone. Are you okay…?” Lian gave his mentee a concerned glance.

“…Oh, what am I saying? As a conductor, I need to ensure that my guests are confident on my abilities to lead! Don’t worry, Lian. I may have troubles within myself, but I will ensure our safety and the best interests of our clients for the duration of our journey.” Ingo pointed at Lian and at the ground. “All aboard!”

Lian decided it was best to roll along with it.

***

“We arrived at our first destination!” Ingo said. “Now where do we find our client?”

“An excellent question!” Lian stood up straight (as much as he could since he wore a shell), finally able to stretch his rescuing skills. “They should be on this floor, so we’ll have to look around. Keep an eye out for a scared, lost Glig- HEY!” Lian watched as Ingo ran on ahead into the hallways of grass. “Weren’t you the one talking about not “decoupling” a second ago?!”

Lian ran as fast as possible for a Sliggoo with a shell made of metal. In a few short floors, the tall grass grew impossibly thick and made any chance of seeing the Sneasel from a distance near impossible. Lian even tried to walk through the grass but could barely budge the leaves. He pulled out his map to see if Ingo showed up on it but to no avail. He went back to travelling on foot. “Ingo! Ingo!”

A moment later, Lian found Ingo kneeled next to their client, Gligar. Ingo checked Gligar’s wounds, noting scratches and bites that broke through skin. Gligar could barely keep his eyes open.

“Ingo!” Lian said between huffs. He had to run across the entire dungeon floor to find Ingo. “You… “left the station early”… or something like that… But I’m glad you found him.” He took a deep breath and regained his poise. “So, we found our client! Now we can use our badges to teleport him back to the guild. He’ll be healed up back in our medical wing.”

“It would be faster to heal him ourselves, would it not?” Ingo asked.

“Well… We have a nurse at the guild, but if ya insist, go ahead.”

Ingo reached into his bag to grab an oran berry. He was prepared to feed it to Gligar himself, but Gligar lifted one of his claws and opened it. His arm struggled to stay up.

“Please stay seated,” Ingo said, slowly lowering Gligar’s arm. “We will help you depart shortly, but allow me to help you refuel.” And thus, he fed the berry to Gligar. He and Lian watched their client’s breathing grew steadier and stronger. “That’s better! We’re ready for line transfer.”

“Alrighty, fella, we’ll get you to the Pearl Guild right away!” Lian removed the badge from his ribbon and showed it to Gligar. Ingo watched the badge shine with magic, as did Gligar’s body.

“Th-thank you…” Gligar gave a wide smile to Ingo and Lian before a beam of light teleported away.

“And that’s it! We’ll go back to the guild to check up on him once we’re done here. Are ya ready, Ingo?” Lian noticed that his mentee was still kneeled on the ground. Looking at Ingo’s face… well, he couldn’t tell much. The Sneasel may have preferred telling and not showing his emotions, but even Lian could tell he was lost in thought. “Ingo?”

Ingo’s eyes widened, seemingly brought out of his trance, and he jumped back to standing position. “Forgive me for the delay. I thought… I thought I remembered something, but that possibility left the station. Time to reach our next stop!”

***

“This is the last floor of the Obsidian Field,” said Lian to Ingo, who was still leading the way. “Our target should be here. We’re looking for Machop that stole a sun ribbon.”

“Oh crap,” a third voice said. The duo turned to where the voice was and found Machop holding a sun ribbon around her arm.

“Oh. That was fast,” Lian said.

“Lian, all aboard!” Ingo moved faster than Lian could track, Quick Attacking Machop before she could start running. Lian liquifies himself, granting him boosted defense from Acid Armor. Machop Focused Energy right before Ingo Rock Smashed into her, sending the Machop onto her back. Lian prepared to spray Bubbles at Machop when he heard crackling and his body suddenly convulsed from electricity.

“Be aware of your surroundings!” Ingo said.

Lian regained control of his body and turned around. In the room were two Shinx, one of which having just used Thundershock. The other Shinx ran at Ingo, their body lighting up with electricity.

Ingo narrowly dodged the Shinx’s Spark and saw in the corner of his vision Machop running away from the fight. “Stop right there, thief!” Ingo began running to chase down Machop, but both Shinx Thundershocked him.

“We need to defeat these two first!” Lian said. He spat one Shinx with an Acid Spray. The Shinx pawed at their face to get it off. Ingo followed up with Quick Attack.

“Machop is taking an express route to the exit! Follow me, speeding ahead will help us avoid damage as well.” As he said that, the non-acidized Shinx jumped in front of him and tried to hit him with Spark. Ingo dodged and found himself jumping around the room to avoid both pokemon, with the first Shinx recovered from Lian’s acid attack.

“Ingo, go on ahead!” Lian shot Water Pulses at both Shinx. “They just wanna fight. I’ll take ‘em both!”

“That is greatly compromising your safety, Lian! You might faint.”

“Just go on and get!” The Shinx doubled up on Lian with two Sparks. He huffed after each breath, but his heal ribbon gave him just another bit of strength to stand his ground. “Sorry, Ingo… I believe in you!”

Ingo nodded to Lian. He ran after the thief, his arms straight behind him and coat flapping in the breeze he created.

Machop couldn’t shake the weird Sneasel from her. Whenever she turned and even tried to double back, Ingo would follow her undaunted and with the same unchanging glare. “What are you?!” she asked while looking at him. She turned forward and found Ingo in front of her and struck, knocking her to the ground. “Nice Quick Attack…” Then she spun on the ground, catching Ingo’s feet with her Low Kick and made him hit the ground with a critical hit.

Ingo groaned. He knew he was at his body’s limit. The exit from the dungeon, a one-way door out of the dungeon, was a few meters away from them both. Machop ran to the exit, not bothering to finish off Ingo when her escape was right there. She wouldn’t have to worry about the rescue team once she left.

Right before she stepped foot into the door, she noticed the sound of grass rustling and that Ingo stopped groaning. She realized her mistake too late as the sun ribbon was taken from her arm right as she teleported back outside of Obsidian Field.

Ingo looked over the sun ribbon in hand. He had just enough energy to unleash one last Quick Attack to grab the item. The metallic fibers glistened in the afternoon sun above them. Machop escaped, but he completed the mission. With the item retrieved, Ingo ran back to Lian and found him on the ground laying on his side. Ingo assumed the worst and confirmed it when he saw Lian’s battered face and shell. Lian had fainted.

“Lian!” Ingo held the Sliggoo’s head in his arms. “Please forgive my rashness. I failed as a conductor and let my passenger get harmed! I’m sorry.”

“Ingo… Ya can’t get rid of me that easy,” Lian said between breaths. ”… Sorry, I’m not the best battler… I usually just housekeep for the Guild… I don’t go on missions ever… I’m really sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing? You performed excellently!”

“C’mon, ya can’t lie to me… You’re not happy with me. Or you pity me or somethin’. I can see it all over your face.”

“…Oh.” Ingo frowned more than usual. “No no, that’s a misunderstanding. I… I know I’m not the most expressive person and I’m a bit stiff, but… I mean every word I say. Your knowledge and skills are invaluable. I got to assist Gligar, Kadabra, and now you. I’ll get you back to the guild so you can continue your duties.”

Lian gave Ingo a little laugh. “I-I’m glad to hear it…”

***

“We get paid?” Ingo asked as he looked at the 500 pokedollars and TM for Bulk Up he received from both a healed Gligar and a relieved Kadabra.

“Did you not realize?�� Lian asked. He fidgeted with the bandage slathered in medicine healing his shell. “How do you think the guild gets money?”

“I can’t say I considered it. I was mostly concerned with making sure everyone was safe.”

“Yeah, about that… Listen, I had fun today, and you definitely have potential as a pokemon rescuer. But… I think you need a partner who can keep up with you. We got lucky with our requests today, but having a partner and actually working together will make everything so much easier.”

“My apologies once again, Lian. I think I’m used to being in the singles train for battles.” Immediately after saying that, Ingo paused and tried to piece together what exactly he just said. After a moment, he decided to ponder on it later. “…Very well. I will attempt to find the best battling partner for my team.”

“Great! Also, I think Guildmaster Irida requires it for our guild anyway. Plenty of space for a lot of people to work together, y’know? But for now, I will return to my normal post. See ya later, Ingo!”

“Until next time, Lian.” Ingo gave the Sliggoo a salute, and Lian did the same motion.

As Lian walked away, he took a sigh of relief. He tried to make it quiet enough so that Ingo didn’t hear him.

***

“Is that everything, Ingo?” Emmet asked, snapping Ingo out of his thoughts.

After the morning announcements where Team Conductors introduced themselves to the guild, Ingo took it on himself to show Emmet the procedures and standards of being an exploration and rescuing team. But Emmet noticed Ingo drifting off at times, lost in thought.

“Y-Yes, that finishes the studying portion of training,” Ingo said. “Next step: on-the-job training!”

#PMD Lost Tracks of Time #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus spoilers #pokemon ingo #pokemon lian #submas #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd au #my word document kept buffering while i was editing and i was so scared i was gonna lose several hours worth of progress at many points

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cinnamonrusts · 3 years

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bed time with the sparda twins --

all the cuddles, fluff, and bedtime rituals with dante and vergil 💤

-- f!reader (kofi + gif not mine)

DANTE-

The ticking clock in the living room read 10:30pm. Dante yawned loudly which was followed by several loud lip smacks. You fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head rested on the back of the headrest with mouth open wide. The half demon smiles as his tired eyes observe you lovingly, even as a dribble of drool rolls down the side of your chin. How did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve someone like you? Your gentle and attractive features highlighted the warmth that your heart radiated.

However, waking you up unleashed the wrath that your gentle soul disguised. Dante put a hand on your thigh and gave you a light shake. You stirred slightly before drifting back to your deep slumber. Your name whispered from his lips while he gave your body another shake. Soon your eyes opened and Dante’s face came into focus. “Hey, sunshine,” he cooed, “Let’s go to bed.”

A tired smile stretched across your lips as his words filled you with love. With a stretch and a loud yawn, you took the hand that Dante lent out and the two of you climbed the stairs to the upper level.

Your bedtime routine was always the same, besides a couple of variances. Dante was the first into the bathroom, he removed all clothing besides his boxers and socks. He pasted both of your toothbrushes and set yours down on the counter where it waited for you. As he peed, he brushed his teeth and hummed the tune to Walking on Sunshine. When you joined him, you picked up the toothbrush and started to brush as Dante continued to hum happily. The two of you observed each other’s reflections in the mirror; a mixture of funny faces and giggles were exchanged.

In Dante’s room was a king sized bed that was directly in the middle of four maroon walls. The small room had one window on the right wall that allowed the pink glow of the neon sign to peak in through the blinds, this gave the bedroom a sort of warmth to it. On either side of the bed were nightstands that were decorated with personal items. Yours had a variety of skincare items, a clock, a teddy bear, and a photo of Dante, Nico, Nero, and yourself (Vergil was nice enough to take the picture). Dante’s was filled with several half empty water bottles, a scattered mess of papers, a photo of the two of you at a fair, and Ebony/Ivory. He kept them on top of his dresser to keep them accessible at all times, if anything were to happen -- keeping you safe was his priority and he felt better with them in close range.

Other things in the room included a closet which contained your clothing and a large dresser which held Dante’s. His dresser was on the wall that faced the foot of the king sized bed, on top was a medium sized CRT television that occasionally caught signal from the busted antenna on the top of the building.

As you finished getting ready for bed, Dante rushed into the bedroom to get the bed prepped. He pulled back the plump, black comforters, as well as taking your pillows and giving them a fluff. You stopped in the doorway of the room and leaned against the frame with a smile on your lips as you watched the Sparda man prep your bed. The floorboards squeaked as you shifted your weight which caught his attention - he stopped immediately then spun around with a smile. “Bed’s all ready,” he took a small step toward you, which you took one toward him. Dante then charged into your waist, his arms wrap tightly around your small frame. He lifts you up in the air with ease before resting your body over his right shoulder. Dante slides toward the bed and proceeds to drop you lightly onto the springy mattress.

The white haired male lowers himself down over you with hands on each side of your head. He’s quiet besides the same smile that he’s been wearing all night. “Hi,” you say quietly, “Hey,” he responds. Your skin can feel the warmth of his breath against it which causes goosebumps to rise. Soon his lips are pressed against yours. His kisses always start soft and sweet before growing hungrier with each touch. His white teeth are biting at your lower lip, his tongue is wrestles for dominance inside of your mouth. Dante’s palms that were supporting his weight are now roaming your body as he feels every curve while your fingers stroke his chin stubble. You can feel his boxers rise against your thigh but before anything can move any further, he stops.

Dante pulls away and cups your cheek with his rough palm. His thumb strokes your skin softly as his blue orbs take in your e/c eyes. He suggests that the two of you crawl under the covers and get comfortable. You agree and crawl to the side of the bed where you normally slept, Dante joining you on the other side while draping the blankets over your frames. His strong arm wraps around you and pulls you close to his bare chest. Your head rests on his warm skin and you can feel his heartbeat slow from the quickened pace that it was beating at. Dante turns on the television and flips through several channels of static before stopping on a late night re-run of a comedy movie. You can feel your eyes getting heavy with each blink.

Light snores vibrate in your throat as you fell asleep again on your partner. He can hear them over the sound of the movie and his eyes look down to the side at you. Your expression is peaceful, and the rise then fall of your body is slow and steady. Dante smiles again and thinks again about how lucky he is to be where he is right now. He was hoping for a blowjob, but this is okay too... That could always happen later.

When the two of you sleep, it is a battle for the bed. Despite being a king size, the two of you take up a considerable amount of space for the rather large mattress. Dante is a stomach sleeper and sleeps with his legs spread out wide. A part of his body always needs to be touching you, so that he knows that you’re always there beside him. He’s afraid of something happening to you while he’s asleep or when he wakes up in the morning, you’ll be gone. So, either his foot is touching your leg or his palm is on your breast.

You often sleep on your back with legs and arms spread out. The back of your hand or palm usually rests on the back of Dante’s head (or his face). Your leg that isn’t touching Dante’s often dangles off the side and falls asleep, which then wakes you up with the annoying tingling feeling that doesn’t go away until you shake it. The devil hunter likes sleeping with the tv on and enjoys the feeling of waking up in the dark to see an infomercial about cleaning products playing. While you like sleeping in the dark, the hue of the neon signs outside give you a relaxed feeling that you cannot explain.

Despite your differences in your sleeping conditions -- the two of you wait for the other to wake up in the mornings. Usually you’re the first to fall asleep and the first to wake up, but sometimes Dante beats you in the mornings. He doesn’t have difficulty falling asleep but does staying asleep, during the night his dreams often wake him and he has trouble shaking them off. So, if he wakes up early, he will wait for you. You wait for him as well. Whoever is first -- either of you will face the other and enjoy the peacefulness of quiet morning and the way that the sun shines into the room. Dante feels excited every time you wake up and your blinks are slow but the way that the sun shines off of your e/c irises fill him with a warmth that he doesn’t fully wrap his head around.

Dante doesn’t wake up as peaceful as you do. It’s often with eyelids opening quickly and glazed over eyes from either not enough or too much sleep. His morning breath is atrocious but comforting at the same time. It is a stench that you’ve grown to love - some may think it’s odd but love is an odd thing.

As he stretches, he rolls onto his side and pulls you close to him again as you managed to wiggle free during the night. His hand is on the small of your back as you prop yourself up on your elbows with your hands under your chin. Dante grins,

“Good morning, snore-ass,” he says with a yawn, “Good morning, shit breath,” you reply with a smile.

VERGIL-

It is late at night and you’re already in bed but are not accompanied by Vergil. You stir under the sheet that laid across your body, your legs search for the strong calves of your mate. But the bed is absent of the half demon man. You push yourself up from the bed and squint as you scan the dark room. The walls are a light shade of grey and two windows sit directly in front of you, the moonlight peaks from between two curtains and highlights an empty chair where Vergil normally sat with his book.

“He must be downstairs,” you speak as you drape a robe over your nude frame. The hallway is empty and dark when you exit your shared bedroom. Down the hall is the room of his brother, Dante, and sounds of his television blare from behind his closed door. He wouldn’t be in there, it’s too late in the night. You peer over the side of the balcony to the floor below and see Vergil sitting at his brother’s desk with book in hand.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up without the elder Sparda brother accompanying you. Things kept him awake at night and he was usually reluctant to reveal what they were, despite being in a relationship together for several years. He informed you about his mother, Eva, and that fateful day that separated his fate from the one of Dante’s - but that was about it.

Vergil hears your creaking as you walk down the steps and acknowledges your presence, “You should be sleeping,” he says with his book raised to eye level. “Waking up alone gets old, Vergil.” you slowly approach him and notice that he’s shirtless still from your love making that occurred earlier in the night. The moonlight shines in from a window and accents his muscular body in all the correct ways.

He is silent for a moment before he apologizes. You accept it and lightly wrap your arms around his neck from behind and your fingertips lightly run across his strong pectorals. “Did you have another dream?” you whisper next to his ear. He had been having issues with dreaming about his corruption and the loss of his mother, which leads up to losing you. Your hand raises to his ear and tickles his skin, but Vergil takes your digits in his palm and squeezes. “Let’s return to our bedroom,” he pushes back from the desk and stands.

The Sparda man feels guilty for leaving you again, especially after having sex because your cuddling was cut short when he got up and left. Vergil suddenly scoops you up from your feet, his strong arms pull your close to his body and he walks up the stairs. You look up to his face with a warmth lingering in your cheeks, you can see his handsome features even in the dark. His eyes are focused on what was in front of him and when he reached the landing, they fell onto you. He smiles slightly as he pushes the bedroom door open with his foot.

The room isn’t large but is perfect for the two of you to live comfortably in. On the wall to the right was a large dresser that held both of your clothing. Decorating the top of it was a photo of the two of you, Dante and Vergil, then a painting of you two hung on the wall about the furniture. In a vase was a wilted rose that Vergil had given to you on your first official date, it was frail and broken but most petal remained, it was sentimental nonetheless. The largest piece of furniture was an ornate bookshelf that held a collection of works that Vergil admired. You actually found it in an antique store and used the remaining money you had for the month to purchase it for him. When he received your gift, you could’ve sworn you saw tears well in his eyes but he quickly embraced you tightly and thanked you with a passionate kiss. There was no television in your room but there was a small radio that you listened to often when you would clean up while Vergil read his poems in the chair by the window. He enjoyed listening to you sing and hum to the music while he read, his eyes would occasionally raise from the literature to watch you.

You think that he is going to lay you on the bed but he takes you into the bathroom that is connected to the bedroom instead. Your normal bedtime routine involved you sitting on the toilet brushing your teeth while Vergil stood in front of the sink doing the same. He was very vigilant about his oral health, so he took twice as long as you to brush. You always gotta bump him out of the way with your hip, so that you could spit out the foam that was filling your cheeks to the brim. Vergil always set out two things of floss and two bottles of mouth wash. “His and hers!” you called it. Skincare masks were your favorite weekly routine because it meant that you could paint his face with black mud. He would scoff but let you have your fun, however, he was unhappy when you captured a photographic memory of it.

Vergil seats you down on the closed toilet lid and turns to dig in the lower cabinet. “What’re you doing?” you ask but he doesn’t answer. When he turns around, there is a bottle of body lotion in his hand. He pumps several globs of white cream into his palm before resting on his knees, he waddles toward you and takes the lower half of your leg in his empty hand. His rough palm with the lotion begins to spread the lotion on your soft skin. The other hand joins as they travel up and down your appendage, he begins giving you a massage. Vergil raises your calf to his face and presses his lips against it, giving you several loving kisses. He then presses his nose to your muscle and breathes you in. Kissing, feeling, and smelling your body creates an overwhelming sensation of love and gratitude to fill his body, he wants to show you how much he appreciates everything you have done for him.

You hum in pleasure as he massages but when he stops and kisses your leg, you lean over to run your fingers through his white hair. His blue orbs flicker up and meet yours, the silence remains as no words are needed to explain the intimacy between you both.

After he is done, he picks you up again and takes you to the bed.

When it is time to sleep, Your bed is a queen size which is just enough room for two people, which worked out well because Vergil holds you tight to his side. He is a side sleeper and mostly rests on his right half. You lay nestled into the bend of his body with your back side facing his front. Vergil’s left arm holds onto your waist and his ankles are linked onto yours. Vergil enjoys resting this way because when he feels horny, you can feel his member in his pants and he has easy access to your heat. Resting over your bodies was a light silver sheet which sometimes had a white quilt accompanying it, but Vergil enjoyed feeling cool at night. (being snuggled up to a half demon turned out to be warmer than you thought) and you were one to enjoy being snuggled up in a fluffy blanket. The two of you compromise and often rotate the coverings for your shared bed.

Being held tight to Vergil’s body is comforting which upsets you when he leaves you during the night. Once he left and did not return for several days which meant you laid alone at night wondering where he had gone off to. But he did return, then held you tight again to his body. He whispered promises that no matter what -- he would be there to hold you.

Just as Vergil wakes up during the night, he is the first to wake in the morning as well. It is his favorite time because he can watch you sleep in your most innocent nature. Normally your back faces him but in the morning he releases your body and you almost immediately roll onto your back. Vergil can see your eyes flicker side to side under your closed lids and ponders about what you dream about.

The whole building is quiet because it is way too early for Dante to be awake. So, Vergil takes advantage of it to also reflect on things while he watches you sleep. These things involve his goals which both include personal ones and those that involve you. He reflects on his past, present, and even future. Vergil thinks about what could become of your relationship and it fills him with joy and anxiety.

He never wakes you but simply remains patient for you to wake on your own (unless there are morning plans) When you do, he releases his crossed brows and a small smile forms on his lips. His hand raises and holds yours, “Good morning, darling,” he says, “Good morning, sweetheart,” you reply. Your stomach growls in between of your sweet words which prompt an unison chuckle, “Let me bring you breakfast,” he offers and pushes himself up.

#devil may cry #dmc #dante sparda x reader #dante x reader #dante sparda #vergil sparda x reader #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry imagine #dante imagine #vergil imagine

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

disrespect ~ oberyn martell;game of thrones

word count: 1799

request?: no

description: the prince of dorne doesn’t take too kindly to people disrespecting his paramour, especially not lannisters

pairing: oberyn martell x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

(Y/N) watched the buildings and the people of King’s Landing pass by as the carriage drew nearer to the palace. All eyes turned to watch them pass by, trying to sneak a peak at the latest guests for King Joffery’s wedding.

A warm hand on top of hers brought her back into the carriage, where the true royal guest everyone was excited to see smiled lovingly at her.

“You seem distracted my love,” he noted, bringing her hand to his lips.

“I was just watching the people of King’s Landing,” she responded. “They are...dirty looking.”

“The bastard king does not care for his people,” Oberyn responded. “If they are poor he has no use for them, so he lets them struggle and die as he pleases.”

(Y/N) winced. “These poor people.”

Oberyn squeezed her hand slightly. “The minute the wedding is over we will return home my love. Try not to despair for too long.”

(Y/N) chuckled humorlessly. “It is hard not to despair when I am dreading our arrival and introduction to the Lannisters. I have no doubts that they will make it known that I am unwelcome.”

“You have every right to be at this wedding. You are no less than I am.”

“I am a whore in royal clothing.”

“You are my wife. You are a royal lady, and you are much better than any Lannister could ever dream of being.”

(Y/N) smiled and leaned over to kiss her husband. He cupped her face with one hand, the other trailing up her skirt. Her legs opened instincitvely, allowing Oberyn’s hand to slip between them. Before they could go any further, the carriage came to a stop.

“We’re here, My Lord and Lady,” the coachman told them.

(Y/N) pouted as Oberyn took his hand away and fixed her skirt. He chuckled at her reaction. “We will finish this in private.”

They were approached by one of the King’s guards who then led them into the palace. King Joffery, his future wife, Margaery Tyrell, and his mother, Cersei Lannister, were all sat together in the throne room as Oberyn and (Y/N) entered.

“Your Grace,” the guard announced. “Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, and his wife, Lady (Y/N) Martell.”

Oberyn gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he plastered the best fake smile he could muster on his face. “Your Grace.”

“I believe my invitation reached the wrong brother,” Joffery said, giving the two of them a sour look. “I invited Doran Martell, the true heir to the Dornish throne.”

“Do not be rude to our guests,” Margaery mumbled to the King. “Welcome Prince Oberyn and Lady (Y/N). We are glad to have you as our guests.”

(Y/N) tried not to make eye contact with Cersei, but it was hard when the queen was glaring daggers into her. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was only married into the royal life, not born into it, and anyone who was less than royal was scum in the eyes of the Lannisters.

As if noticing her discomfort (or Cersei’s glaring), Oberyn wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s waist and held her tightly to him. "Do you mind showing us to our room? It has been a very long trip for the two of us.”

“Of course,” Margaery responded. She waved a hand for one of the guards to show the two of them out.

She’ll make a great queen, (Y/N) thought to herself.

The room that was provided for them was large and already lit by a fireplace. The bed was bigger than (Y/N) could ever imagine. She threw herself down onto the comfortable bedding, her aching muscles from the long journey feeling more relaxed than before.

“That went about as I expected,” she said. “I cannot wait until the wedding so we can go home.”

“It will come soon, my paramour,” Oberyn said, standing between her legs at the end of the bed. “Now that we are alone, shall we continue what we were doing earlier?”

(Y/N) smiled and quickly pulled her husband down on top of her, causing him to laugh as well as he pressed his lips against hers.

~~~~~~

The next day, when the sun was high in the sky and warming the land, Oberyn decided to take (Y/N) for a walk around the palace. It had been so many years since he had been in King’s Landing, back when his sister Elia was married to Rhaegar Targaryen, but he could still remember the beauty of the place as if it were yesterday.

(Y/N) loved to see the beauty in places. Before catching Oberyn’s attention, she was stuck in the filthy whore house that barley let her see the outside world. Oberyn had the utmost respect for women who were only able to sell their bodies as a means to get by, but he had no respect for the men who treated their prostitutes so poorly. Now that he had (Y/N), he intended to show her every beauty that the world had to offer.

“This place is beautiful,” (Y/N) breathed as they walked through a beautiful flower garden.

Oberyn smiled at her and paused for a moment to pick one of the flowers from the ground. “A beautiful flower for my beautiful flower.”

Blush creeped across (Y/N)’s face as he placed the flower gently into her hair. “You could get in trouble for that.”

“I could get in trouble for many things, but still I do as I wish.”

(Y/N) smiled brightly at her husband and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting nothing more than to just hold her forever.

“Ah, my apologies.”

The couple pulled apart to see a very familiar face entering the garden - that of Jaime Lannister, the King’s uncle and Cersei’s twin brother. Oberyn tightened his hold on (Y/N)’s waist as he regarded the Kingslayer.

“I was not aware anyone else was out here,” Jaime said as he approached the two lovers.

“We were just passing through,” Oberyn said. “I was showing my beautiful wife the sights of your lovely land.”

Jaime glanced at (Y/N) for a moment before smiling at the two of them. “You must be Prince Oberyn of Dorne. It is nice to finally meet you.”

Oberyn begrudgingly shook Jaime’s hand, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around (Y/N) still.

“I do not believe I have heard of you,” Jaime said to (Y/N). “You are Prince Oberyn’s wife? How long have you two been wed?”

“Over a year now,” Oberyn responded instead.

Jaime shot the man a look. “I believe I asked your wife that question.”

(Y/N) felt nervous in that moment, but managed to make her voice even enough to respond, “We have been wed over a year. We celebrated our anniversary just before we left for King’s Landing, actually.”

“What family are you from, if you do not mind me asking.”

The grip on her waist tightened. (Y/N)’s back straightened as she responded, “Before I married Oberyn, I was a Sand.”

Jaime’s head tilted, but he didn’t look as condescending as his sister. “That...that is the name of the bastard children in Dorne, is it not?”

(Y/N) nodded. She wanted to shy away behind Oberyn, but she knew the only way to beat a Lannister was to hold your pride no matter how much they tried to rip you down. “It is. I am unsure as to who my true parents are. I was delivered to the steps of a religious building and left to be raised by others. I was originally raised by the priest, but eventually they brought me elsewhere for the remainder of my childhood.”

The genuine look of sadness on Jaime’s face shocked both Oberyn and (Y/N). “I am so sorry, my lady. Were you raised by a kind person at least?”

“Well...kind of. I was....I was raised in by the owner of a brothel until I was old enough to work there myself. He gave me the option, luckily enough, but I was raised to think it was the only job I could ever possibly have.” She turned and smiled at Oberyn. “That is how I met my love.”

Oberyn smiled back at her and kissed her cheek. “I was taken by her the moment I saw her. I knew I had to make her mine.”

The memories of the day that (Y/N) first saw Oberyn flooded her mind. She thought he would just be another customer, but by the end of their session she realized he meant the sweet nothings he was whispering in her ear.

“Oh, I guess that is where I recognize you from.”

Oberyn’s head spun so quickly to glare at Jaime. “I am sorry, what did you say?”

The sly look on Jaime’s face was a direct mirror of Cersei’s, and (Y/N) felt her heart drop to her stomach as he spoke. “Your wife, she looked familiar. I could not quite place it, but now I realize it is because I just did not recognize her with her clothes on.”

Oberyn tried to advance on Jaime, but (Y/N) took hold of his arm and held him back. “Don’t, my love, he is not worth it.”

“Yes, Prince Oberyn, I am not worth it. Take it from your wife, she would know.”

Oberyn’s face turned blood red and (Y/N) had to physically pull him away before he could strangle Jaime. The Kingslayer was still calling profanities to try and rile Oberyn up.

(Y/N) took him back into the palace, cupping his face to make him look at her. “Oberyn, my love, calm down please.”

“Fucking Lannisters,” he hissed. “They think they can get away with everything! They think they can insult my wife like that.”

“Oberyn,” (Y/N) repeated, her voice softer this time. He looked at her and his face also softened. Oberyn loved the way she could always make him calm down so quickly. “It is nothing I have not heard before.”

“But coming from his mouth...” Oberyn said, his eyes darting to where they had left Jaime for just a moment.

“Means nothing,” (Y/N) finished. “He can try to degrade me all he wants, but at the end of the day I am still the whore that married a prince. I was chosen to be brought into this life, unlike them who were brought into it at birth, and I still have more class than that whole family combined.”

Oberyn smiled at his wife and kissed her passionately. “I love you more than anything.”

“And I love you more than the world, my love.”

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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savarii · 3 years

Text

II - Unknown God

this is an analysis that may contain spoilers

"The arrogation of mankind ends now." - Sustainer of Heavenly Principal, Unknown God

Hm yes, this sus looking lady that looks like Kiana from Honkai Impact. She stated herself as the Sustainer of Heavenly Principal, or better known as Unknown God by the traveler. This lady is responsible for whatever the hell happening in Genshin Impact.

She's the one that stopped our traveler and said "Outlanders, your journey ends here."

Her words could indicate a lot of things and one of it is that this might be indeed the twins last destination, or in simple word they should not travel further because there's probably no other world left for them to go, whatever thing that they're looking for is here in this world, not beyond.

Unknown God most likely think the twins as some sort of threat to her so called 'heavenly principle'. Because she also stated "The arrogation of mankind ends now" which subtly hinted that unknown god really is hiding some sort of truth by blaming it to mankind arrogation. If the twins manage to go beyond, the truth might be revealed and that's why Unknown God stopped them. The twins are the peak of that arrogation she mentioned, and she wants to stop their ambitious trespass to know what's beyond.

I think... I think there could be a misunderstanding between Unknown God and the twins. My pinpoint to this is :

1 ) Unknown God see the twins as mankind that chases to know what's beyond divinity

2 ) The twins... were only other world travelers that just wanna go to other world...

She could just let them go and none of this all would happen, but she decide to stop them and trap them here.

Unknown god did NOT (or cannot) destroy their power. She simply sealed/reduced their origin power temporarily, and that caused the twins unable move to next world. There're 2 possibilities upon her intention why she's doing this :

IF her intention is really just because of that misunderstanding, then this action is a huge mistake. The twins are definitely not for this world "law" or her principles if she trapped them here. Even though we may not know where the twins origin is, we know that they have external power. It may not be as powerful equal to Unknown God, but that's enough reason for them to revolt, but on top of everything she's literally separating the twins from each other? they only have each other and she's doing THIS? like- bro??? this is a war declaration that you'll definitely lose. Unknown God is sticking her own death flag here.

IF her intention is something else, she probably know what's going to happen upon her action. Then this is actually her small step of plan to bring her intention come true but didn't want to do the dirty work. She may meant her words for herself too, maybe she's also at her last stage of journey, and the twins arrival is here to finish her last mission in her journey. The world will change and this is by her last action.

for the sake of Genshin Impact, I think the first one is more possible for our game lore.

If it's the second one that's true,

we might as well relate this to Honkai Impact, like seriously there's no other explanation but this. :")

Let me tell you a bit about why it would relate to Honkai Impact. Their lore is huge just like Genhsin, and is not yet finished but here's a the brief explanation from what we know so far. Their lore is about futuristic advances, mechanical battles, world reset, and doom. Yes. you can guess for your own how it will be related. (world reset = different world = different alternates = different ending) Whatever possibility that can happen, it is... quite undeniable that we've seen familiar faces and story from these 2 games, so... they could relate somehow.. but okay let's just wait for MiHoYo to surprise us.

Anyways back to our main discussion, her action is very impacting on Teyvat's coming days, and we know for sure the twins are the reason why Teyvat is changing. However there're many hints that indicate Unknown God is gone ever since this action and the last cataclysm (500 years ago). Her whereabout is a big question, because there is so many changes to Teyvat yet she did not do anything? maybe she did something, but this time is totally different than all the times before.

Another thing to note is that we don't know if she's even still alive or not. Because so far in the game, there was no sign of her appearance or existence in present time. Most of the story only focused on The Archons and humanity. Which lead to a speculation that Lumine's mission is already progressing far as convincing living beings in Teyvat to throw back upon Unknown God, and divinity (Celestia).

In the end, we don't know for sure about Unknown God in present time. Our poor boi Aether only wanted to find his sis, but look at all this drama. Everyone is fighting over each other and drowning our boi here for their errands.

a/n : this is original from my head but you're very welcomed by my ask box if you would like to share something with me. ty for reading ^^

= Masterlist =

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin theory #genshin spoilers #unknown god #savariitheories

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Papa Bye-Bye!

Dad!Yahaba Shigeru

a/n: i know its a later update but i still made it, didn’t i?

Yahaba Shigeru:

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴀʏ"

papa shiggie can’t believe his baby boys are already starting school

word count: 1.2K

(twins)

son: yahaba ryujin

son: yahaba raijin

shigeru was pacing back and forth in your living room while you were helping the twin boys get ready for their first day of school. even after the long talk full of reassurance from you, he still can’t help but feel worried not only for the safety of his boys but for the fact that they were doing his biggest fear: growing up.

it is no secret to everyone you knew and who knew you that your husband was absolutely smitten by his twins and it seems he breathed and lived everyday just to see them. despite you knowing he loved you, you can’t help but think that he loved his children more and to be honest, you can’t exactly blame him.

yahaba raijin and yahaba ryujin are the light of your lives.

not even a year into your marriage, you were already expecting and the surprise of having not only one, but two, doubled the shock. after many years of being together-having started the relationship at your second year-you knew shigeru’s desire of having children, more specifically, a son. so you can imagine his happiness inside the ob’s clinic after learning of the gender of his twins and let’s just say, you weren’t shocked when your husband fainted.

his still-round brown eyes settled on the picture frame on your corner table and if he wasn’t already crying, he was about to start now. the picture was of the 4 of you in the hospital room when the boys were born and the exhaustion was evident in both of your eyes. but it was such a happy and special day. a day that made him a father.

and he cannot believe 6 years has passed.

‘shiggie, can you help me look for ryu’s socks?’

you called from the bedroom upstairs and when he didn’t reply, you told the boys to stay still and peaked your head out of the door.

‘shigeru! darling!’

finally, shigeru jolted out of his reminiscing and he ran up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the right.

‘what-what’s wrong?’

he worriedly asked, thinking something happened, but you giggled.

‘oh, darling. you’re stressing yourself out. come, we can dress the boys together’

‘papa! papa! lookie!’

raijin’s loud voice, which he inherited from his father, pointed to his doggie-print socks and wiggled his toes to emphasize his excitement. shigeru got even more sad as those were the same socks that were gifted to him for his birthday by his godfather. speaking of which, their birthday is coming up in a few months.

‘they’re really nice, aren’t they, rai? should we take a picture and send it to uncle kenta?’

the little boy nodded excitedly at his father’s offer and proceeded to pose while his other half was being comforted by you.

‘mama, don’t wanna go. wanna stay here with rai and mama and papa’

judging by the shake of his voice, a sob was threatening to come out and you frantically cupped his chubby cheeks.

‘ryu, it’s okay. mama is right down the hall and if you miss papa, we can call him! he doesn’t have work today’

but that didn’t make him feel better and instead made him cry out.

‘noo!!!’

he sobbed and you met the eyes of your husband, who was now finished taking his pictures, and you passed off the crying boy. shigeru gently cradled his son and ran his hands through his silvery-brown hair to help calm him.

‘oi, ryu, why are you crying, hm? is it because you’re going to school? yeah, i understand it but school is really cool, you know? you can make new friends there and you’d still have rai with you’

‘eung! i’ll be with ryu! always! pinky promise! rai loves ryu!’

your youngest son, raijin, was the more outspoken one while his older-by-8-minutes-brother, ryujin, was the more timid and emotional one. this is why he is always the first to cry and easily bawls his eyes out but to counter him was his brother with his bright and outspoken personality. thankfully, ryu listens to rai and he instantly fades into hiccups by the simplest reassurance and a hug.

so ryu stopped his tears, left with only teary e/c eyes, and he looks over to rai, who was hugging you, before nodding.

‘ryu love rai, too’

he mumbled out and shigeru had to close his eyes before taking a deep breath so as to not scare his sons by his squeals.

you saw your husband contain himself so you hurriedly ushered everyone out to be able to get to school on time. of course, ryu moved sluggishly, as if he was trying to stay in the house longer, while rai was running around to grab his shoes and backpack and grabbing both of their lunch boxes from the island.

‘here ya go, ryu! want me to tie bunnies on your shoes?’

the older brother nodded shyly so rai hurriedly sat on the floor and started tying the shoelaces of the bright blue shoes.

you and your husband were standing off to the side by the door with a fond smile and warm hearts. your eyes looked up to his and you sadly chuckled before rubbing his arm.

‘they’re growing up aren’t they?’

he whispers and you stopped then nodded.

‘yes, they are, darling’

your words confirmed it and he sniffled to try to keep the tears at bay. he reached down to grab your hand and squeezed it for comfort.

‘i’m so scared. maybe it’s the thought of them eventually not needing me anymore or something but i’m terrified’

he admitted and you understood his fears because duh, they were your sons too.

‘you know, you used to make fun of kyo for crying when he sent off naomi and naoki to school but look at you now’

you tried to make him laugh and it kinda worked since he did giggle. then it settled for a sad smile.

‘he told me it was a unique type of feeling. a new type of fear. not the childish ones like spiders, or the dark, or sharks. no, it isn’t a fear that anybody can have unless they have their own children. no amount of spiders or sharks can equal this because you don’t know fear unless you’ve watched your child grow each day. every passing day was taken for granted until reality decides to throw it at your face’

oh, dear.

it’s been quite a while since you’ve heard him talk so earnestly and you remembered him talking like that during his last volleyball practice and him passing his title for captain to little kunimi akira.

it all revolved around the same topic: growing up.

so as shigeru drove you all to the kindergarten, he kept taking glances to the rearview mirror to simply watch rai giggling and ryu not being able to help but also laugh due to the infectious noise. it is a sound that shigeru loved.

you were beckoning the boys to follow you inside of the gates after saying your goodbyes to your husband and their father but ryu stopped. rai was already ahead but he also sensed that his twin wasn’t beside him so he stopped as well and backtracked back to him. the adorable shy child turned around and with teary eyes, he waved. shigeru’s own tears gathered but finally fell when rai held on to his brother’s other hand and waved to him too. however, he had a large grin showing off the lost front tooth.

‘papa, bye-bye!’

rai shouted and ryu nodded too.

‘pa, bye’

he tearfully added but shigeru could hear it, having developed a sensor for the voice of his soft-spoken son.

no, this isn’t a sad goodbye.

rather, it’s a joyous one.

because as much as shigeru hated watching his boys grow up, he was happy and excited to be able to see the great people his boys would become.

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lonestarbabe · 3 years

Text

Eye of the Storm: Chapter 3: The Road You Take Alone

*Can be read as a stand alone (AO3)

Carlos tries not to let his mental health spiral out of control.

Carlos isn’t used to waking up to an empty bed, and he misses hitting a limb when he stretches his body too far onto the other side. Even though T.K. still technically lives with his dad, he’s been spending a good deal of time at Carlos’. Carlos has gotten used to having him around, so when he’s gone, it’s too quiet, and Carlos can hear his thoughts rage in the stiff air of his mind, forming hard peaks like beaten egg whites. His thoughts are becoming unruly. They’re angry and anxious. You’ll never be happy, they tell him. Something will always make you feel dissatisfied. Things always go wrong, and you never know when the awfulness will strike, so you have to be prepared for all the badness that will come. If you aren’t prepared, bad things will happen.

His head pounds as the thoughts crescendo. His bed is lumpy under his body and his sheets are oddly scratchy. Usually, his bed is a safe little oasis, and the worrying doesn’t start until his feet reach the floor, but his thoughts are bolder today; they have no regard for those blessed moments of aimless contemplation that he loves so much. There’s no time for you to be tranquil. The world is unhinged, and you’ve got to find a way to fix it, or at least your little part of it. I just want to relax. No time for that. You’ve got to start your day. Five more minutes. Start your day. Two more minutes. Start your day. One more minute. I won’t say it again: start your day.

There’s so much he has to do, he knows that, but his mental to-do list is disjointed like building blocks after a child has torn them and scattered them across the room during a tantrum. He needs to piece them back together, but it takes so much energy just to do that let alone tackle the items on the list. The world is an overwhelming place when you can’t even process your own thoughts. I need to get going or I’m going to waste the entire day. Listen to yourself. You’ve got to hurry up and get something done before you give up on trying. I can do this. Getting my shit together can’t be that hard, can it?

Order is not something that Carlos likes to do; it is something he has to do. It keeps me from losing my head. Nothing feels right when left to chance, so each morning, he shakes the question marks as well as he can. He plans and he prepares for the day ahead. He lists the things that are likely to go wrong, and he thinks of ways he’ll address them when they happen. He reminds himself that he can handle the obstacles because, at one time or another, he has prepared for them all. But there are too many variables, and you cannot alphabetize a list if you don’t know the first letters of the items on that list. You can make deductions and guesses, but you can’t know. It is fruitless to try to control the inevitable mystery that comes with being alive, but Carlos tries. If he thinks about a thought long enough, he can work it to death. Once it’s dead, he can feel okay. For a while.

He’s got his thoughts under control most of the time. He’s learned to work through them efficiently, shoving them out of the way each morning and each night before they can drag him too far down into the abyss of rumination. While he’s taught himself to work through them quickly, some days, thoughts are sticky. They are gum glued to the ground with superglue, waiting for an unsuspecting shoe. The thoughts cling to his mind, oozing over the information he actually needs, and he has to work just a little bit harder to scrape them off of the walls of his brain.

Thank god people couldn’t see thoughts because if they could, they’d see that Carlos’ thoughts are twisted remnants of what thoughts should be. They’re the warped pieces of metal left after a plane crash— they don’t have much function, but their sharp edges can cut you. He doesn’t want today to be one of those days that brings those destructive thoughts to the forefront of his brain, but Carlos feels darkness sneaking into his brain with about as much stealth as a cat with a giant bell weighing down her steps. Somedays, it slips in without a trace, but it doesn’t matter because no matter how it comes, it always gets in.

He wishes he didn’t have the day off work. The space in his schedule leaves too much room for intrusion. Distraction has always been the thing that keeps Carlos sane. Work, working out, going out with friends are some of the things that keep him on his toes and feeling level. Distraction can’t take away all the darkness, but it can hold it away until it finally crawls back into bed with Carlos one quiet morning.

He should have known that the darkness would come on like this. The darkness – that’s what he’s always called it, but he isn’t sure whether the name makes it sound worse or better than the clinical name. You wouldn’t expect it from him, the depression, but it’s a familiar foe. He’s usually the one that people use as a strong pillar, and he hates how weak the darkness makes him feel. His depression comes in waves, and it comes unexpectedly. Some things may trigger the depression, sure, but it can come when he’s feeling good, just as it can come when he’s already feeling bad. It usually doesn’t last long, but it waxes and wanes and hangs over him even when he can’t see it.

It’s time to get up, his brain persists, urging him to suck up the lowness in his core and get on with what he has to do. Stop lazing around and do something. You could get so much done today if you just did it. Why are you like this? What’s stopping you other than yourself? Do something. Anything.

He drags his feet over the side of the bed, and the ground comes against his heels too fast, and he has to balance himself to not tumble back into bed. Oh, but I’m tempted. I could give in to the urge, wrap myself in blankets, and close myself off to the world. As the urge to do nothing calls to Carlos, his need for order also beckons. He has a routine for a reason because that routine keeps him from spiraling. One missed part of his routine can turn into pacing his apartment for two hours replaying his whole morning in his head to catch any discrepancies.

Somehow, I’ve got to get through this day. Carlos has learned that when a day seems impossible, you have to take it one step at a time, but he’s never been a one step at a time kind of guy. He’s good at taking tiny, careful steps because they feel safe and require the precision he’s programmed himself to give, but those baby steps grate on him. They bring out the obsession and make him exert way too much energy for what should be easy. He becomes consumed by little details that shouldn’t matter until he can’t think anymore.

The perk of a small apartment is that it doesn’t take long to pull his body to the kitchen and drag his feet down the stairs. Carlos feels like a robot as he prepares breakfast. Prepares is a strong word for what he does, but on days like today, pulling a toaster pastry from a shiny aluminum packet counts as preparation. The treat should taste like cinnamon sugar, but it’s cardboard against his tongue. He finishes it, and then he eats its waiting twin because he knows that’s what he should do. He washes his breakfast down with instant coffee that looks and tastes like mud.

He doesn’t have to clean the dishes because he’ll use the mug for more coffee when he’s showered, but even though he ate neatly and didn’t make much of a mess, he wipes down the counters as he usually does to simulate a normal day. Because I need to act normal. You’ll never be normal. But I can try.

After he cleans up breakfast, fatigue pulls at his eyes. I could just go back to bed. I have nothing to else to do, so I might as well just give up. What else am I going to do with my time? Going back to bed won’t make him feel any less tired, though, so he decides to force himself into the shower. He stands under the hot stream, letting it purify his thoughts more than his body. He stands there until the hot turns cold, and he’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the change until his teeth begin chattering.

Carlos forces himself into new clothes, and he doesn’t know what to do next. He’s restless. You have so much to do. Your life is a mess. Start by trying to clean that up, and then, we’ll go from there. If you can’t get your act together, you’re hopeless. Cleaning— I can handle that.

Cleaning isn’t Carlos’ idea of fun, but it seems like the natural solution to messiness, and maybe if he can get his living space spruced up, he can sort out the clutter in his head. He’s diligent when he cleans. He doesn’t just scrub surfaces; he uses three different products to make sure every square inch is wiped off as well as humanly possible. It probably doesn’t make much of a difference, but putting so much effort into something keeps his brain from scrambling. He dusts every crevice, and he vacuums using all the attachments to make sure no corner goes untouched. He even wipes down the bottom of his table just because he can imagine how much dirtiness must be under there. Cleaning is just the right amount of mind-numbing to pass the time without making Carlos have to think too hard. Since he’s cleaning, Carlos decides, what the hell, he might as well do some laundry, knocking all the dirty details of life off his list. Getting stuff done normally feels good, but Carlos doesn’t feel much of anything.

The morning blurs into the afternoon, and Carlos only notices the difference when his mom calls just a little after one. Carlos dreads the conversation as much as he’s glad that it will give him something to do. Carlos loves his mom, but she doesn’t stop talking whenever she calls, and she usually comes to him to vent. He doesn’t think she realizes that she’s doing it, and mostly he doesn’t mind, but he’s already feeling drained. Even with tiredness pulling at his brain, he answers the phone because it’s his mother, and how can he not answer the phone? She won’t stop calling until he responds, anyway, so he might as well get it over with. “Get it over with,” what a way to talk about your mother. You can’t try to be just a little nicer? She gave birth to you. The least you can do is listen to her. How much energy could it possibly take? Suck it up and do your job as a son.

His mom’s worked up about Carlos’ brothers’ grades. She gets worked up about his brothers a lot, and it’s not so much that the twins do anything that wrong. Mostly, they’re her last babies, and Ana is having a hard time accepting that all her children have become adults. Carlos’ brothers have never been academic, and he knows no matter what Ana says to them, they’re not going to change. “There’s something wrong. They’re not as diligent as you were,” Ana complains. “I don’t know why they’re so easily distracted.” Carlos wants to tell her, Of course, they aren’t as diligent as I am. They’re not anxious nutcases who try to be angels to keep from causing any negative emotions in other people. They don’t have to be diligent because they’re allowed to be regular kids. They aren’t responsible for their mother’s emotional balance. “They’re smart kids, but they’d much rather make jokes than do their work.”

“That’s hard,” Carlos tries to sympathize, “but they’re hardly kids anymore. They’re in college. You can’t micromanage their grades. I know it’s a challenge for you, but sometimes, you need to let go a little bit. You’ll always be their mother. College isn’t going to change anything.”

Ana tuts, “They still live in my home. They’ll follow my rules. They shouldn’t disrespect their mother. I may not be educated, but that doesn’t mean I’m a fool. I know plenty. It would serve them to remember that. I’ve been on this earth over a half-century!” Carlos’ mom has always been insecure about her lack of higher education. She’d always been good in school, but going to college had not been in the cards for her, and now, she feels lesser with all her children having more education than her. She’s proud of them, Carlos knows— she’s always been so proud of her children— but he can tell that she thinks about all the things she might’ve done if she’d found a way to go to college. In most areas, Ana is confident, but in others, she’s full of insecurity. Maybe that’s how all people are. A bit of confidence and a world of insecurities.

Carlos is quick to reassure Ana, “No one thinks you’re a fool. We know how smart you are, but when you’re young, the wisdom of your mother isn’t that appealing. They’re probably just trying to find themselves. They’re testing their limits, and it won’t always turn out well for them, but they’ll learn. They’ll come back to you when they need your help.” Carlos doesn’t know that. He’s not a psychiatrist, but it sounds like the right thing to say. Ana probably won’t see it that way, though. She never sees things your way, and I don’t blame her. You’re crazy and unstable and act like you’ve got it all under control when you can’t even reassure your own mother properly. What good are you if you can’t accomplish the one thing you’ve been practicing for pretty much all of your life? Get it together Carlos.

Ana goes on, and Carlos knows the conversation has only just started, but he already wants to make an excuse about why he can’t talk any longer. But I can’t do that to her. “I’ve indulged all their interests. It wasn’t easy, but I made sure they could do all the sports they wanted. All I ask is that they keep their grades up, and I don’t like that they aren’t keeping their end of the bargain. I’ve made sacrifices, so many sacrifices.” Carlos always felt a pang of guilt for all the things his mother had sacrificed. They’d never had a lot of money, and Ana had given everything for her children so that they could have whatever opportunities they wanted.

All his life, Carlos has tried not to take too much. I need to be careful what I ask for. If I can’t get it myself, I shouldn’t have it at all. He’d gotten a job as soon as he could. He’s saved his money and paid for as many of his own expenses as possible. She’d never asked him to do it, but he knew how much she gave to her children, and he never wanted the burden of depriving his mother. He hated to see her not having the things she wanted because of her children, so he made a vow to pave his own way. Yet, she’s still given him so much that she will never make him give back. And you don’t deserve any of it. What have you done to deserve it other than being a bitter son who resents his saint of a mother?

He knows that way she makes him feel isn’t normal, and it probably isn’t healthy, but it’s too late to set boundaries, and he knows that she isn’t doing it on purpose. He feels selfish whenever the bitterness pops up. She loves you unconditionally. How can you be mad at that? What kind of a monster resents his mother who has only tried to give him the best? She’s not perfect, but no person is, so why hold her to some unachievable standard. There must be something wrong with you if you cannot accept her how she is. She’s not the problem— you are.

“I know, Mamá, but it’s normal for them to want to stray from the nest.” Ana would never be the kind of mother who took a back seat, even as her kids grew up and started families of their own. So much of her identity is centered around caring for her family, and the changing way she cares for them has made her feel like she’s lost her purpose. She’s one of the most self-sacrificing people that Carlos knows, and even when she’s given all that she could possibly give to her children, she wants to give more.

“You never did. You were always such a good boy.” At what cost? I tried so hard to be what you wanted that I forgot how to be myself. Until he had joined the police academy, Carlos had been unsure of what he wanted. What his mother wanted for him had become such a big part of his mindset that it drowned out what he wanted for himself. He became a chameleon to please her, to boost her confidence, and make her feel like a successful mother, and it was hard to learn to be himself again, which is why sometimes he feels better when he keeps a distance from Ana. He loves her, and he’ll always be close to her, but he also needs a life of his own, or he will go crazy.

“I’m a different person, so I needed different experiences. There’s nothing wrong with that. It just shows that we all have different abilities.” We all don’t feel like we have to change ourselves to be what other people want. “The twins are fine.” They’ve never been that into academics, and they are mostly still in school to continue with sports, so Carlos never expected them to get good grades. “They’re not failing, are they?”

“No, but they can do better.” Not while being happy, Carlos wants to argue. He doesn’t want his little brothers to go through the same turmoil that he has.

“You can’t force it.” Carlos knows better that the more you try to force something, the more out of control you become. Not that knowing that stops you from trying to force control. You can’t help it, can you Carlos? You keep trying to capture something that was never meant to be held. You’ll always come out a loser like that.

“I know that, Carlos, but maybe you should talk to them.” I should have known that this is where the conversation was headed. She always wants me to be the voice of reason, the cool older brother who gives them wisdom that they wouldn’t listen to if it comes from their mother.

Carlos tries to keep the agitation out of his voice. “And say what?” He shakes his head, but she obviously can’t see it. “They’re not going to listen to me either. They think I’m uptight.” Carlos’ family always jokes that he should relax a little, and he does relax. He can be spontaneous and flexible, but it’s harder to be that way in front of his family because they’ve come to rely on his rigidity, his ability to never bend under pressure. It’s all just a façade, but they don’t need to know that. They don’t need to know about the insanity in my head. They would look at me differently if they knew, and I can’t afford their perception of me to change. He’s afraid of what they would think if they knew the truth. What would his mom do if she knew that Carlos wasn’t okay all the time? She would probably blame herself, and Carlos couldn’t have that.

He imagines coming clean, sometimes. It is so lonely to handle the weight of his dysfunction on his own. He likes to fantasize about blurting everything wrong out in one go and not giving a damn what everyone thinks. It would be cathartic, and he wouldn’t feel like he has to hide so many parts of himself because that’s what he is doing. He’s hiding because it’s easy to hide than to own his imperfections. He doesn’t want anyone to see him as broken, especially when they sp desperately need him to be solid.

“They do not see you that way. They look up to you. You’re their big brother. They’ll listen to you. Just tell them to shape up. I’m worried about them.”

“That’s a bad idea. I don’t want to get in the middle of this.” As the oldest boy, Carlos usually takes his role as an older brother in stride, but he’s so exhausted, and he doesn’t think there’s anything he can say that will please everyone involved, least of all himself. He’s not up for handling this family drama, especially when he doesn’t really understand what the drama is. “I don’t think it will help for me to say anything,” Carlos adds so he sounds less defiant, but he’s got to hold his ground on this one thing or he’ll be sucked into a mindset that makes his obsessions and his worries worse.

He hears Ana sighing loudly on the other end of the phone, “Do you think one of your sisters can talk sense into them?”

“Mamá, I don’t think anyone is going to change their minds. They need to take the initiative for themselves.” But she won’t listen to me on that. She can be so stubborn sometimes, and I don’t know how to make her hear what I’m saying. You might as well give up talking because she’s never going to change.

To Carlos’ surprise, his mother laughs. “You sound so much like your father sometimes, Carlos. He always believed that you kids would sort yourselves out if we gave you the room to experiment.” He can hear her smiling over the phone. She always smiles when she talks about Carlos’ dad. “I was never able to be like that. I worry too much. You’re all my babies, you know. Even now that you’re old. I remember holding you in my arms. You were a big baby, but even a big baby is so tiny. I was afraid the world would break you.”

“I got stronger,” Carlos says,

“You were always a sensitive kid. I’m glad you grew out of it. The world is hard on sensitive kids. And foolish ones. Your brothers are foolish ones. They’ve got a lot of ambition. They’ve got good ideas, but they have no sense about how cruel the world can be. You’ve seen the bad. You saw your father’s flaws more than they did. He gave you kids your freedom, but he liked things a certain way.”

“We don’t have to talk about this.” It isn’t that Carlos minds talking about his dad, but he knows a conversation like this can cause his mother to spiral. She tries to hide her mental distress when it happens, but Carlos sees it. Like mother like son. He notices the way she becomes quiet and the way her eyes are red more than they aren’t.

“I want to,” she admits. “Your father could become… withdrawn.” Your freakshow comes from both sides then, huh? “He’d focus on one thing, and everything else would become background noise. You and Glo were old enough to see that.”

“I remember, but that’s not how I remember him. I remember him cooking us meals and running around with us at the park. I remember him reading us books and helping us imagine our futures. I remember hugs when we were scared and soup when we were sick. Everyone has bad days, but Papá’s were mostly good.” Some people are better at hiding bad days than others, but we all have them, especially in my family.

“I never told you kids how he died.” Carlos can barely stand to hear how choked his mother’s voice is. It sends a ripple of fear through him.

Carlos feels his heart skip a beat. He’s not sure why she’s bringing this up now, but nothing that she’s saying is a surprise. She’s never said the words. She’s refused to admit that their father didn’t die in his sleep, but the kids all know. There’s a quiet understanding between them that he’d drunk himself to death. Carlos had never really seen his dad his drunk. His dad had always kept his addiction secret, but there had been signs. Looking back, he always knew. Everyone around them knew, but they didn’t mutter the words. They kept what was behind closed doors behind closed doors, and that never helps anyone.

“We know,” Carlos says so his mother doesn’t have to say it. She’s been denying the true cause of death for over a decade, and Carlos is afraid of what will happen if she says the words out loud. It’s why no one in his family has ever brought it up. “Glo and I figured it out.”

“He wasn’t a bad man.” Carlos only ever saw the part of him that was good. Come on, you knew. You always knew. You pretended you didn’t, but it was clear as day that your dad had a problem, and you should have done something about it. You should put the pieces together sooner and tried to do something about it. Now, he’s not a good man or a bad man; he’s a dead man.

“I know. He was sick,” Carlos says. Just like me. Just like you. Just like all of us. “He did the best he could.”

“I wanted to protect you from it,” Ana says, and Carlos isn’t sure if she’s trying to justify the lies or is slipping back into the delusion. No, you wanted to protect yourself, he wants to shout, but he bites his tongue because he’s not going to fight with a woman who tried to give him everything in her power. Making her unhappy wasn’t going to make him happier.

“It’s okay, Mamá. You did the best you could. You don’t have to be sorry,” and just like that, he absolves her. He always absolves her, even if it means condemning himself. Isn’t that just what a decent son is supposed to do?

When his mother is done talking, Carlos hangs up the phone. He stops fighting the thoughts growing louder in his brain. He gives in to the urge he’s been resisting all day, and he goes back to bed. Because what’s the point of staying up any more. What else do I have to do? Sleeping will make the day go quicker, and right now, that’s what Carlos needs.

When Carlos wakes up, he doesn’t feel refreshed. He’s still thinking about the conversation he had with his mother, and he thinks that maybe he should call his brothers after all, but he doesn’t. Instead, he calls his oldest sister, Gloria, because as the oldest sibling, she knows very well how it feels to be given more responsibility than you are prepared to carry. “Did Mamá call you?” Carlos asks after a brief greeting.

Gloria laughs, “She called me first. It was unusual. You know you’re the favorite.” You’re only the favorite when something goes wrong and needs fixing.

“You know that’s no true.” If I am the favorite, it’s because there’s so much of me that I hide. She’s only seen the parts of Carlos Reyes that she needs to see. I’ve buried all the rest because doing so will make her happier. Carlos knows that if his mother knew that he’s not as level-headed as he pretends to be, she wouldn’t feel the same way about him. She wouldn’t turn to him for help, and she wouldn’t talk to him as openly. Telling the truth could destroy the relationship with his loved ones as he knows it, so he chooses to keep silent.

“You’re all she can talk about with her friends. She’s so proud.”

“She’s proud of us all,” Carlos assures his sister.

“That’s what favorite children always say,” Gloria teases.

“You can take a turn being the favorite, Glo. She wants me to talk to Gabe and Dave again. Their grades aren’t high enough for her liking.”

“You set the bar too high and now the poor kids are expected to be straight-A students.”

“Like you were any better.”

“Maybe not,” Gloria says, “But she knows they have trouble in school. David especially.”

“Meanwhile, Gabriel is the one who jokes through his studies.” Gabriel distracts David, who has a hard enough time focusing on his studies in the best of circumstances, so having the two boys together can do more harm than good.

“You didn’t call to talk about the twins, did you?” Gloria asks astutely.

“No,” Carlos admits. “I’m not interested in trying to get their grades up. As long as they're not failing and doing decently well, I don’t see a need to get involved.” He can be honest with Gloria because he knows that she feels the same way that he does.

“Why did you call then?” Her voice is gentle, and it reminds Carlos of when his mom used to sing him to sleep.

Carlos sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to check-in. I’m worried about Mamá.”

“She seems okay,” Gloria reassures him.

“She talked about the way Papá really died today, Glo.” There’s a long pause, and Carlos can hear his sister breathing over the phone, but she doesn’t say anything. “Glo? You still there,” he adds to try to get her to reply.

“She actually said the words?”

Carlos’ brain sinks a little. “Well, no. She didn’t say it explicitly, but she admitted that she never told us the truth about what happened.”

Gloria sounds indignant, “As if we didn’t know. The denial has never been for us.”

“I know that.” He crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

“Did you tell her that?” Gloria’s voice has raised just enough that Carlos knows this conversation has gone off course. He doesn’t know why he chose to do this to himself, on a bad day especially. He doesn’t have the energy, but since it’s too late to get out of the situation, he has to find it. When he needs to, he can always embezzle it from other parts of himself that need less upkeep. When he has bad days, sacrifices must be made.

Gloria sounds annoyed now. “Of course, you didn’t. You never tell her how you feel.”

“What does it matter to you?” It’s his life and his feelings. He can tell them to whoever he wants.

“Because you shouldn’t censor yourself anytime she has a mood. She’s not going to stop having them just because you cater to her and I know it’s a lot for you to manage. You’re not responsible for protecting someone else from themselves.” But that’s what Carlos has always done. He’s a protector by nature, and when he sees someone in trouble, he steps in.

“Be nice. She’s your mother.” Gloria’s frustration with her mother is obvious. It’s not that she’s not sympathetic, but she’s never experienced what Gloria has experienced. She doesn’t understand how hard it is to rise above your bad days.

“And I love her, but she needs professional help. Too much of her life is centered around being our mother. She can’t rely on us to fill in all her gaps. She needs a life of her own. I hate seeing her when she gets bad, and she’ll keep getting bad unless she decides to make a change.” If Ana knew that she was talking about her this way, it would devastate her, and just the thought of her overhearing this conversation makes Carlos want to end it, but he lets Gloria say her piece.

“Well, that’s never going to happen.” That’s the problem. He knows that she’s never going to seek help on her home, so it’s either he tries and fails to help her or he doesn’t try at all. Trying feels better than doing nothing.

“So what then? You have to be whatever makes Mamá happy?” Isn’t that what I’ve been? How can I be anyone else at this point? She needs me, and I can’t let her down. Carlos knows that they don’t have healthy boundaries, but that’s just how his family is.

“I don’t always choose what Mamá wants.” For as many concessions he makes with her, there are some that he is unwilling to let her cross for his own sanity. “She didn’t like the idea of me being gay.”

“She always accepted your sexuality.” That’s the simple way of putting it. His mom has never been anything but supportive. When he told her, she hugged him and said that she loved him no matter who he loved, but he had always had a feeling that her initial acceptance had been because it would make her a bad mother not to accept him, and being a good mother is the thing that she has always most wanted to be, often to the point of too closely resembling the stereotypical image of a mother.

“I know she always loved me just the same, but it took time for her to get used to it.” He doesn’t remember her saying bad things about gay people, but he had seen her smile fall just a fraction when he told her the truth.

“She’ll get used to other things, too. Your relationship with her can evolve if you let it. It might be better for everyone.”

“I can’t stop worrying about her.” The worry is lodged in his mind. It is one of his oldest friends, and no matter how far he goes, it is part of him. He’s spent so long concerned about his mother that not exhausting so much energy worrying would leave a hole in his life. As messed up as it is, he doesn’t know who he is without his fears. If he let them go, even just some of them, he thinks that things might get even worse. No one else seems to understand the way he needs to indulge the worry to feel safe.

“And I’m not asking you to, but you don’t have to deal with everything alone, hermanito.”

“Yeah maybe,” Carlos says because he’s too tired to argue with her about her. “I’ve got to go Glo,” he says as an escape from the conversation. “T.K. is calling.”

“Okay, Carlos, go talk to your man. I love you.” He’s lucky to have Glo. She’s always trying to look after him when he’s trying to look after everyone else.

“I love you too. Talk soon,” he says before hanging up and putting the phone beside him. The phone is silent now, and he misses the noise, but he is relieved that he doesn’t have to listen anymore just the same.

He lays back on his couch and flips the TV on. He turns to his favorite crime drama, the one that got him interested in law enforcement, but he doesn’t pay attention. He lets the scenes pass through his brain mindlessly without leaving a dent in his memory. He stays there for hours, only getting up when he’s hungry or needs to use the bathroom. He lets the hours blur until his mind is so numbed that he needs to do something just to remember there’s a world outside his apartment.

To find a connection to the outside world, Carlos has T.K. over in the evening because starting the next morning, T.K. has to work for two days, and Carlos doesn’t want to wait that long to see him even though he’s not in the mood to be around people.

When Carlos opens the door to his apartment, T.K. throws his arms around Carlos. He tilts his head up for a kiss. He smells sweet, and maybe time with his boyfriend is exactly what T.K. needs. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.” T.K.’s hold is firm and the weight of T.K. against his chest knocks out the breath that Carlos has been holding.

“Long day?” Carlos asks. T.K. opens his mouth, but he looks at Carlos’ face and closes it again; T.K. swallows hard, pushing the words on the tip of his tongue down to his stomach. He can tell that something is wrong with you. Get your act together. He doesn’t want to hear about all your issues. Keep that shit to yourself and don’t bother your boyfriend about it.

T.K. says, “You look tired.” Tired was too light of a word for the utter depletion Carlos felt in his bones. You’re so whiny. Could you shut up for just five seconds? You’re giving me a migraine.

He’s not going to like that answer because for some reason he wants to learn everything about you, even the worst parts of Carlos Reyes. “That doesn’t answer my question.” They could circle like this forever, redirecting each other’s words because neither wants to burden the other with what they both try and fail to hide.

Carlos doesn’t miss the way T.K.’s eyes are overcast, but he watches T.K. tug a smile onto his face as he pulls back whatever he might’ve said if he hadn’t noticed that something was off with Carlos. Carlos feels guilty. You’re the worst boyfriend. You can’t even support him when he needs you. I’m trying. Not hard enough. T.K. pecks Carlos’ lips. “I missed you, that’s all,” T.K. adds, and Carlos can’t help but worry that there’s more to it than that. He wonders if his perception is off. Maybe he’s making a lot out of nothing. He tends to do that. You sure do.

They order pizza and put on a movie when Carlos can’t find many words. T.K. picks at the pizza and Carlos doesn’t pay attention to the movie. Aren’t we a fun pair? By the time the credits roll on the screen, Carlos has no idea what just happened as T.K. gives his impromptu review of the movie. T.K.’s excitedly talking, and Carlos doesn’t process the words he is saying, but it feels good to hear T.K. being so full of life when Carlos feels so depleted.

“Yeah,” Carlos says distractedly to something that T.K. says. “That’s true.”

T.K. gives Carlos a confused look. He chuckles. “You’re not paying any attention to me, are you?” His voice is light, but it still makes Carlos feel like shit. Guilt spikes in Carlos’ bloodstream. I should be more attentive when we get to spend time together.

“I’m sorry, Ty.” How many times can you say “I’m sorry,” before it starts to lose its meaning? It’s always the same old story with you Carlos. Try something new for once. I’m so bored.

T.K. shakes his head, “Don’t be. You know I don’t mind talking to myself.” But you shouldn’t have to, Carlos wants to say. Your boyfriend should be more attentive.

“I should still listen.” That’s right you should, but you’re so selfish. You try to do things for other people, but it’s only because you’re greedy for their love.

“Really, it’s fine. I get it.” He doesn’t get anything. “Are you okay?” T.K. asks, and Carlos knows that he should be able to talk about it— the depression, especially. He remembers T.K. telling him once about everything being gray, so he knows T.K. gets how it feels. Carlos’ depression is different than T.K.’s, though. It’s fueled by pathological obsession and worry more than anything else. Still, he thinks T.K. might understand or try to understand more than most people would. He wouldn’t be one of those people who tries to understand and then doesn’t listen. Carlos has met many of those. They hear the word depression, and they start to assume. They think depression is laziness or intense sadness after the loss of a loved one. They think it is just a feeling. “I’m depressed,” they say when they are feeling sad, but they don’t consider what it must like to have depression. It’s not a passing mood Sometimes, they have a deeper understanding, but very few can understand the nuances, and even though T.K. may get how Carlos feels, Carlos doesn’t think he can talk about it. His throat feels like it may close whenever he starts to say the words, so he shuts up.

It’s a strange role-reversal when Carlos tells T.K., “I’m fine.”

T.K. raises his eyebrows, probably because he knows that people who say they are fine are usually lying. “We’re both hypocrites, aren’t we?”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“We both want honestly about how we are, but we both don’t want to give it.” That might be the closest thing T.K. has been to admitting he’s not fine. It might be the closest he ever will be. Carlos gets it. It’s hard to accept that you might not be okay, especially when other people need you to be okay. It seems simpler to pretend that you’re fine. The thought takes the air from Carlos’ lungs and not in the way that feels like a release.

“I’m not trying to push you to talk about anything, but you know that you can talk to me, right?”

“Of course,” Carlos lies, trying to force a smile.

“Do you need to talk now?” T.K. pushes him just a little further. Carlos shifts his body further from T.K. on the couch, and T.K. sags against the cushions. Maybe now he knows how he makes you feel all the time, the malicious part of Carlos thinks.

“No, I’m good.” He can hear the waver in his voice. I’m so tired, and I can’t shake the drowsiness no matter how hard I try.

“Carlos—” T.K. tries to say, but Carlos will have none of it. He doesn’t want his thoughts or his feelings to be dissected because they’re not something he can share with other people. They’re his alone, and he’s not going to burden anyone else with them if he doesn’t have to.

“Drop it, T.K.” Carlos’ voice is authoritative, and maybe that’s the wrong move because T.K. has never listened much to authority. But to Carlos’ shock, T.K. almost backs down. Almost.

T.K. bites the side of his cheek. “I’m just worried.”

“Well don’t be,” Carlos can’t help but say harshly, and he regrets the words the minute they leave his mouth.

He feels hopeless because he wants to make everything better, but there’s no easy fix for not being okay. There’s no way to wake up and immediately exterminate the termites that chew at the core parts of your mind. You have to swim through a boiling, sludgy roux as it begins to curdle and drag you down with its soiled weight. You have to pull back your skin to see what’s happening inside. You have to hope that something changes even when change is an upside-down mountain that you somehow have to climb.

Carlos isn’t sure he has the energy to climb, at least not right now.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” T.K. says, sounding sincere, but it irritates Carlos to hear the worry in his voice.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Carlos insists, taking on a calmer voice. Try worrying about yourself, he wants to tell T.K., I’m not the one slowly killing myself. No, you’re just worrying yourself to death.

“I’m not an expert, but that’s kind of being in a relationship, isn’t it? Worrying about the other person and wanting to make sure they’re okay.” T.K. puts his arms around Carlos and leans his head up to whisper in Carlos’ ear. “I’m here if you want to talk.” T.K.’s breath is hot in Carlos’ ear, and it warms Carlos to know that he isn’t alone, but it also doesn’t make a difference because there are some things that Carlos needs to keep to himself. He likes to think he’s saving T.K. from the pain of knowing what Carlos struggles with, but deep down, he knows that what keeps his lips pressed shut is the shame that comes with not being the strong, unwavering pillar of support that he wishes he could be. Carlos wants to be that person that doesn’t bend under pressure. He wants to be the effortless kind of okay because most of the time, he is okay, but he has to fight to be that way.

“It’s been a long week,” Carlos admits, but he doesn’t know how to explain the week wasn’t long because it was awful. It’s dragged for no other reason than there’s something off inside Carlos’ brain.

“Jenkins being an asshole again?”

“He’s always an asshole,” Carlos replies about his least-liked coworker. “But no, Jenkins hasn’t been worse than usual. It’s just been hectic,” Carlos explains because that sounds like the most normal reason for not being your normal self.

“How so?” Carlos doesn’t feel like talking, but he doesn’t want to reject the efforts that T.K. is making, so he figures he can just give a little and maybe that will create harmony between them.

“You know how you have a really busy shift and then when your mind stops being pulled in so many different directions, you get really tired, and then you don’t know what to do with your time?” T.K. nods, encouraging Carlos to go on. “It’s like that. I’m crashing after a long several shifts.”

“But you can handle it?”

“Yeah,” Carlos assures, kissing T.K.’s forehead and running a hand through his hair. “All I need is time to recover before my next shift. It helps to have you here.”

“Babe, I’ll be here whenever you need me to be.” But Carlos would never ask that of T.K. T.K. leans his head on Carlos’ shoulder. “I know how hard your job must be. You see some crazy things on patrol.” The funny thing is that it isn’t mostly the things he sees at work that get to Carlos. There will always be incidents that cut deeply, but for the most part, he’s good at compartmentalizing the bad things that happen on the job.

T.K. sits up and leans closer to Carlos, and he kisses the spot just above his collarbone. His lips are soft and warm from the coffee he’d just had, but Carlos can barely sense the warmth. “Is there something I can do to make it better?”

Carlos cannot tell T.K. how he is feeling because this mental tumult is the road he takes alone. It is a road of shame and self-doubt. It is a road of feeling unprepared for each new day. It is a treacherous road that’s just dirt, rocks, and inclines. Carlos wouldn’t want to bring anyone he loved with him down that road. Yet, he knew they would all go down it if he asked— if they knew it existed. They wouldn’t just go down it with him; they’d help him pave it. They’d help him put guardrails on the edges and streetlights in the dark corners. They’d form a community around the darkness. But Carlos isn’t ready to put his secret little road on the map, so all he can do is try to stay on his feet and continue on a lone journey down the road.

#text #my writing #elise writes #my fics #long works #8000 words #eye of the storm

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solarwriting · 4 years

Text

the world cup + return to hogwarts

— Cedric Diggory, (future) George Weasley

Summary: part one of (hopefully) a future series

Genre: fluff

Word Count: +2.7k

Warnings: fluff, embarrassment, swearing, mentions of death

Listen To: ♫ Mine — Taylor Swift

< prev. next. >

“Y/n M/n Granger! Get out of this bed right now!” hermione shouted, hitting her older sister with a pillow between each word she spoke.

“Okay, okay! ‘Mione! ’M up!” Y/n grabbed the pillow and threw it at the girl.

The pillow landed on the floor, not making it anywhere near her sister who sighed, “Good. Now, get up and get ready. We’re leaving soon.” Y/n sighed, assuring her sister she was getting up before he left with Ginny to wake up Harry and Ron.

It was a shock for the Granger family when they got a letter, sent by an owl no less, stating their eldest daughter was a witch that would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an even bigger shock when, just two years later they got an almost identical letter for their youngest. Y/n was sorted into Hufflepuff but wasn’t shocked when Hermione got sorted into Gryffindor. Y/n was happy when she saw her little sister making friends as soon as she got onto the train.

Y/n huffed as she trekked up the hill, walking between the twins while everyone else was up ahead slightly. “Arthur there you are!” She heard a voice shout from up ahead.

Arthur introduced Amos Diggory as his son, Cedric jumped from the tree. Hermione and Ginny smiled at each other and the twins, still on either side of Y/n elbowed the girl and raised their eyebrows at her suggestively, knowing she had a thing for the handsome Hufflepuff. Y/n muttered a small shut up to the boys before meeting eyes with a smirking Cedric. Y/n felt her face heat as they began walking towards a boot.

Y/n lagged behind and Cedric did the same. “How’s summer been?” She asked quietly.

Cedric’s arm brushed against her as they walked, “Boring, you’ve already heard the interesting things in all the letters. What about you? You’ve been staying with the Weasleys, right?”

Y/n looked at him and smiled, “It’s only been a week and there’s so much I could tell you. The twins go crazy with their pranks.”

Y/n was about to continue but before she could she was at the boot being instructed to grab it by Mr. Weasley. Y/n felt herself be pulled through the air and felt as if she was free falling. Her and Hermione both shrieked as they fell to the ground.

Y/n grunted as she fell to the ground, eyes closed tightly. She groaned as George landed on top of her. “Ugh, George.” She mumbled in vain, she opened her eyes and watched as Cedric floated down with ease, “G-get off of me, George.” y/n huffed using more effort as she shoved the ginger off of her.

Cedric watched in amusement as Fred spoke up, “He’s not George, I am!”

Y/n sat up, “Very funny, Fred, but I think after all this time I can tell you two apart.” She narrowed her eyes at him, as if challenging him to question her again before he backed off.

Cedric stifled a laugh offering his hand for her to grab. Y/n took it and was pulled up, he pulled her a little too hard and she fell into his chest, his arm going around in an almost hug. “That felt intentional.” She mumbled,suddenly glad no one was paying attention to them.

Arthur and Cedric’s father lead the group over the hill and the two found themselves in the rear of the group again. “It was.” Cedric siad with a smirk, y/n tried and failed to stop herself from smiling and bumped her shoulder against his.

She gasped as they got to the peak of the hill, as far as she could see were tents lining a clearing. People everywhere were in full celebration, partying for friends and family. The group wove through the tents until they stopped and bid the diggorys goodbye for now, continuing on a short distance towards their own tent.

“Oh shit, I forgot my bag by the portkey. i’ll be right back!” Y/n said turning to rush off.

“Wait, how will you find the tent?” Hermione asked.

Y/n was already walking away as she shouted her answer, “I'll figure it out!” She wove back through the tents making her way back to Cedric's tent.

“I’ll be right back, I promise!” Cedric said as he exited the tent. He crashed into y/n, he wasn’t looking before he began walking. “Hello, love.” He laughed as he caught her by the shoulders.

She wrapped her arms around him, glad to be able to finally hug him without fear of teasing from the twins, “Hello to you, too.” Cedric pulled away from the hug and led her away from the cluster of tents and to the bottom of the hill the portkey still laid on.

No longer caring about the prying eyes of strangers, Y/n pressed her lips to Cedric's softly. It was short and sweet and Cedric smiled as he leaned his forehead against her’s. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/n’s fingers threaded through his hair, “And I’ve missed you.” She tugged him closer and kissed him again, this time with more hunger than before. Cedric’s hands ran from her waist to her hips, squeezing slightly when she bit on his lip.

“I cannot wait to get you properly alone.” Cedric muttered between deep breaths, causing her stomach to do flips. She pulled away from him as he chased her lips for a moment before parting, chests heaving.

“They’re going to start missing us soon,” Y/n muttered, tugging her now slightly puffy lip in between her teeth.

Cedric sighed slightly frustrated, “I know.” He connected their lips in a bruising kiss. It felt as if the wind was knocked out of her.

“Bloody hell!” The two jumped apart at the shout that came from an all too familiar ginger. Y/n squeaked, pressing her finger to her bottom lip as she stared at her shoes.

“Get a room, you too!” George groaned.

“I think i’m scarred for life.” Ginny mumbled covering her face before looking back up at Y/n, “We were sent to find you so you wouldn’t get lost.”

“Yeah,” Fred started.

“But it looks like you were a bit busy,” George continued.

Cedric, similarly to Y/n avoided eye contact with the trio of gingers choosing to stare off to the left of him. Y/n sighed and looked up at them, her finger still holding onto her lip, “Okay, I’m coming just one second? Please?”

Fred nodded, crossing his arms, “We’ll allow it.”

“But we’re going to be right over here so don’t start snogging again.” George finished as they walked away, out of earshot but still close enough to see the couple.

“So much for not getting embarrassed by our family. Are you okay?” Cedric asked, pulling her hand away from her face.

“Yeah, it's just that you bit my lip when they scared us.” Y/n mumbled, squeezing Cedric’s hand in silent reassurance. “I should go before they keep embarrassing us.”

“See you later, love.” Cedric said before kissing her sweetly.

“We said no snogging!” A voice called.

Y/n laughed at the twins muttering another bye as she walked away, Her hand still linked with Cedric’s. She dropped it as soon as the distance grew too big and he turned to make his way back to his own tent.

“The game doesn’t start for hours. Why did you need me to go back?” Y/n wondered as the four made their way back.

“Why, want to go back to making out with your boyfriend?” Fred teased.

Y/n flushed, “I-No, I was just wondering.”

They spent a few hours in the tent before they met up with the diggorys once again. Cedric was looking very awkward as Fred whispered something to George, causing him to snicker. Y/n elbowed the boys, shooting them a glare before pushing past them to walk with Cedric.

They all made it to the top of the viewing area and cheered as the game started. At the railin, Y/n stood between Cedric and George, Fred on George's other side. The twins were jeering at the game when the opposing team scored. Y/n chuckled leaning into Cedric slightly. She dropped one of her hands from the railing she was holding onto so she could link her pinky with Cedric's.

She smiled at him slightly, face flushed from the wind and the small display of affection. They leaned into each other for the rest of the game, both ignoring their flaming faces. After the game, the pair found themselves behind the rest of the group. They held hands as they climbed down the stairs and once they got to the tents Cedric gave Y/n a reassuring squeeze and bid her goodbye.

Everyone was in the tent, the twins were circling the table Ron stood on, teasing him for his infatuation with Krum. The commotion outside, Mr. Weasley left to check out what was going on. He soon returned telling everyone to get back to the portkey and to stick together. Y/n grabbed onto Hermione and began running. “Harry!” Hermione kept shouting, she tugged Y/n back, “We have to go back for him!”

“Hermione we can’t! There’s to many people running around, if you let me get you somewhere safe, then I’ll go look for him, okay.” Hermione nodded sadly allowing Y/n to lead her to the edge of the campsite, near the hill where the portkey was. As so as Y/n let go of Hermione’s hand she grabbed onto Ron who was already at the hill and ran back towards the cluster of tents.

“Hermione!” Y/n shouted, she tried to rush after them but the twins grabbed onto her, holding her back.

“It’s going to be okay,” Fred reassured.”

“Yeah, Dad’s out there and she’s with Ron. They’ll find Harry and Dad and be right back okay?” George reassured, pulling her into a hug, “Let’s get to the portkey, yeah?”

A few days had passed and school had begun. After the usual sorting of the first years, Dumbledore announced quidditch would be cancelled and in place of it Hogwarts would be hosting the famed triwizard tournament. he introduced the ladies from Beauxbaton and the boys from Durmstrang. Dumbledore, to most students’ dismay, warned that only those of age would be able to submit their names into the goblet of fire because of the danger the tournament presents.

Y/n giggled when she saw the twins a few tables down shouting “that’s rubbish!” As other students joined in with their own protests. Dumblefore quieted and announced everyone only had a few days to submit their names, warning that this was not to be taken lightly, it was dangerous and if your name was to be pulled you had to participate alone.

After dinner, Y/n found herself with Cedric, “I’m upset because I worry! People have fucking died, Cedric. I need you to get that through your thick ass skull!” Y/n cried, her voice low. She was sitting sideways on one of the many couches that was in the Hufflepuff common room, facing Cedric.

He groaned, running his hand over his face. He noticed the few people still in the common room at, he checked the time, quarter to one in the morning. He chuckled slightly, ‘It’s kinda cute how she gets mad when she’s worried,’ he thought. He grabbed her hands softly, “I need you to get it through your thick ass skull that I’m not going to die. If I get picked, I’m going to win.” He was being smug, trying to lighten what had been a tense conversation on its way to becoming an argument.

Y/n felt her lip quiver, she hoped no one was watching her and Cedric (no one was, the common room had been empty for about forty five minutes). Cedric softened, any humor or anger dissolving from him. He pulled her arm, signaling her to move closer, “C’mere.” She moved and the two of them shuffled around for a moment until she was on his lap, her legs around his waist, his chin on her head, and her face buried into his neck. His arms were wrapped around her tightly.

“I’m okay, you’re okay, everyone’s okay. No one’s going to die.” He said softly. After a few minutes of holding Y/n, Cedric looked up and noticed the completely empty common room, “Hey,” He whispered, nudinging the tired girl who sat up from his shoulder and looked at him confused. “Let’s go to bed. We don’t need to worry about the tournament right now.” She nodded murmuring her tired agreement, slowly getting up and making her way to the staircases leading up to separating dormitories.

She pulled Cedric into a hug, "I'm sorry for getting upset. I worry about you, I love you, so I always will."

He smiled and pulled out of the hug, "I love you, too." He lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb, connecting their lips in a sweet yet tired kiss. She hesitantly pulled away and pressed her forehead to his.

She looked up at him through her lashes and sighed, “I guess if you don’t die. I guess putting your name in the cup wouldn’t be so bad, plus there’s only a small chance you get picked.” She explained sheepishly, drawing a laugh from Cedric who kissed her on the cheek before turning to go upstairs to bed.

Y/n sighed as she walked towards the great hall, a sixth year Gryffindor ran up to her, “The twins have cooked up something to try and put their names in.” He looked sympathetic when the girl swore and rushed to the great hall where everyone was cheering for Cedric who was looking a little embarrassed with the amount of attention he was getting, one of his mates slapping him on the back. The two exchanged small smiles before Y/n scanned the room to see the twins stand up from being lectured by her sister and link their arms.

“Ready, Fred?”

“Ready, George.”

“Bottoms up!” They said in unison, downing whatever potion they concocted everyone around them cheering as they jumped into the circle. Y/n stood next to Hermione as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what sort of punishment the age line had for them. They high fived and everyone cheered once again as they each dropped a slip of paper into the goblet.

“Yes!” they cheered slowly, dancing around the circle drinking up the attention around him. For just a moment it seemed it had work until the two boys were knocked out of the circle, their fiery red hair greying by the second. Y/n and Hermione exchanged a look that said, ‘what idiots.’

Hermione sighed and opened her book as Y/n stood in front of the boys who now had thick, grey beards. She crossed her arms and looked at them in a way that could rival their mother’s. The crowd let out teasing oohs as the boys froze from their fighting and looked up at her. One, whose she believed to be George (the beards made telling them apart worlds difficult) had a hold of Fred by the front of his robes, hand pulled back ready to punch.

George slowly dropped Fred, looking slightly scared. Y//n sighed deeply, walking between the boys who had separated and sat on the floor. After a moment of her not doing anything the twins relaxed, only for Y/n to grab them both by the ears. They let out whining protests as she drug them out of the great hall, hearing laughter from the other students as they passed Victor Krum and Karkaroff.

“Ow! Y/n, please!” Fred whined. Him and George were bent down, y/n’s firm grip on their ears keeping them from standing straight up. She dropped her hold on them and they straightened up, grumling as they rubbed their ears.

She punched both of them on their arms, hard enough to leave a bruise, they both hissed at the sharp pain, their ears forgotten about. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Fred opened his mouth to explain himself but was quickly cut off, “You know what? I don’t care. I just want you to go talk to Dumbledore right night now and get this,” She gestured to their greyed hair, “Fixed!” The twins muttered an apology before they turned away and entered the hallway leading to Dumbledore's office.

#cedric imagine #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagine #harry potter imagine #hermione granger #george wealsey x reader #fred weasley #Ginny Weasley #ron weasley #dracotok #hp tiktok #hufflepuff #Gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #harry potter and the goblet of fire #george weasley imagine

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rpgmgames · 5 years

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July’s Featured Game: Melon Journey 2

DEVELOPER(S): Froach Club ENGINE: RPG Maker 2003 GENRE: Story-exploration SUMMARY: Melon Journey 2 is a story-exploration game about revisiting a town full of adorable animals with eccentric personalities. Yet under its cute and nostalgic surface lies a dark tale of crime and corruption... Play as Honeydew, an employee of a huge melon factory, and travel to Hog Town where melons are illegal. While searching for a missing friend, you'll have to explore the town and its surrounding areas, and speak with suspicious characters in dangerous situations to uncover the truth.

Download the demo from the discord server here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! We're Froach Club! (Mario - @markeryjane, Karolina - @minipete, & Simon - @carpetbones) Our CEO is rude little roach who goes by the name of Froach. We've all been making games together and separately for a quite a while now and we're currently working on our magnum opus... To see our other games check out froachclub.itch.io & carpetbones.itch.io

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *Froach Club: Melon Journey 2 is a story of crime and political corruption in a town where melons are outlawed. It's a sequel to our (Mario & Karolina) very first game we ever made back in 2012. Back then we had no idea what we were doing and were pretty awful at using RPG Maker 2003, so we had the idea to do kind of a remaster of the game. We accidentally expanded it so much though that it became a huge, fully-formed sequel.

How long have you been working on your project? *FC: Almost 2 years now.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *FC: Columbo, The Big Sleep, Chulip, Hamtaro Ham Ham Heartbreak, Kino's Journey, Twin Peaks, and Shenmue!

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *FC: This is our first real large-scale project, spanning multiple years of development, so staying organized was a huge challenge. At first we would just work on whatever we felt like, jumping from one part of the game to another. But once Simon became more involved in the project, he taught us his amazing organization skills and we learned how to use to-do lists efficiently and and keep our files straight. And now that we have, things go much more smoothly.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *FC: We started with a really bare-bones story, and as we built up the world by adding more characters, side-quests, and subplots to the main storyline, the game’s scope began to grow. The world of Melon Journey 2 is now much more detailed and immersive than we originally imagined.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *FC: Back in 2012, when Melon Journey 1 came out, we were just a two person team (Mario and Karolina). We continued making games together for a few years until we started calling ourselves Froach Club and added our 3rd member, Simon. We worked together on u1f439 (https://carpetbones.itch.io/u1f439) and Fish Fly Fever (https://froachclub.itch.io/fish-fly-fever) and now Melon Journey 2!

What is the best part of developing a game? *Mario: Making the music, when a scene comes together and the music fits the tone perfectly it's really satisfying. Karolina: Coming up with crazy ideas in the beginning and thinking of all the possibilities! Simon: Creating any form of a dense or rich world for people to interact with or experience.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *FC: Back when we started out, we played a lot of RPG Maker games on rpgmaker.net and it was a big source of inspiration because it helped us feel like our ideas were doable without any previous knowledge of programming or game making. Yume Nikki in particular gave us a lot of ideas on how to make the most out of RPG Maker 2003, like hacking together menus out of pictures, and creating complex animations using multiple charsets.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Mario: Bailey is my self-insert character kinda. Karolina: Lily. She has really strict Russian parents (who are actually based on mine) and she has a hard time finding a place where she feels like she truly belongs. She goes through a lot but never truly stops caring about what she believes in. Simon: I actually am Ham Ghost Jr.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *FC: At some point the project kind of outgrew RPGMaker 2003 and we really regretted using it, but we've come to appreciate the limitations and they've helped to shape the game in some ways so we regret it less now, especially since discovering easyRPG which we're using to port the game!

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *FC: We like to joke about making Melon Journey 3D, but who knows, it might actually happen one day! We are leaving the ending of MJ2 a little bit open ended~

What do you most look forward to upon/after the release of a project? *Mario: Being able to start a new project. Usually by the end of one project the only thing motivating me is getting it out of the way so we can start on the next thing. Karolina: Seeing if people enjoy our game! I dream about people making fanart and silly deep lore videos. That would seriously make everything 100% worth it. Simon: I cannot wait to get started on a new (maybe even bigger) project!

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *FC: All three of us have an intense fear of something going horribly wrong on the day of the release. That's honestly the scariest part of making a game - saying that you're officially finished with it.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *FC: Try your best to get your game done and limit the scope! Even if it's not perfect or exactly like how you imagined it, the experience and growth you get from releasing a game is the most important thing.

Question from last month's featured dev @midnighttrain-project: What do you value most in a game? (story, gameplay, art,...) Is that an important aspect of your game? *Mario: I think the interplay of the elements of a game is more important than what the individual parts are like on their own. Like, a simple animation can be transformed by adding a really good sound effect to it, so it's hard to separate elements or say that I value one more than the other. Karolina: I value the story most in games. Even when the art or gameplay is great, if there are glaring plot holes I always spend too much time focusing on them and get pulled out of the experience. That's why we spent so much time making a super well thought-out world and characters for MJ2! Simon: I really enjoy gameplay over most parts of any game, especially if the gameplay is well designed and interesting.

We mods would like to thank Froach Club for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Melon Journey 2 if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpgmaker #rpg maker #game dev #indie games #pixel games #rpgm #melon journey #melon journey 2 #froach club #gotm #game of the month #gotm 2019 #2019

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Part 11

to the fucking NieLan arranged marriage AU I can’t stop thinking about, that should really have a title by now

The next time XiChen sees Nie MingJue, it has been exactly eleven days since their parting at YingChuan.

In those eleven days, XiChen had managed to successfully slice into the heart of YueYang, burn two of the Wen Sect supply columns on his retreat, and decimate the small group fleeing the slaughter at KuiZhou, who had made the mistake of veering too far east. He had lost two men, out of fifteen he had brought with him, and although in terms of war casualties, two deaths are considered an acceptable loss, they both weigh on him heavily.

It is hard to send or receive messages while on the move, so he does not bother. Word travels quickly across the rural countryside, and within two days of leaving the border of YueYang, he knows that the Jiang Sect, along with half a dozen smaller clans, is holding the line at ShuDong, preventing the Wen from moving any further southeast. It is a relief to hear, as he has gotten no word from WangJi in nearly a fortnight now.

XiChen knows that many of the elders do not understand WangJi’s insistence to join the Jiang Sect and fight along his betrothed, instead of taking Wei WuXian into the Lan Sect. Even uncle, who should know WangJi better than all the others, had attempted to change his mind.

None of them truly understand WangJi. They only see a dedicated, upright youth, who would rather suffer death than stray off the righteous path. It had never occurred to them that WangJi’s ardent devotion, once focused on a single human being, rather than three thousand rules incapable of returning the sentiment, could ever look like this. But XiChen had known, ever since those first letters began arriving at Cloud Recesses, the letters that were written to his brother, and not the Second Young Master Lan, not the Twin Jade of Lan, not the second most beautiful Young Master of the cultivation world. XiChen had known that if Wei WuXian could only see his brother as the others could not, if he could love his brother as he deserves to be loved, that WangJi would return that love a thousandfold.

The last piece of news that had reached XiChen, from three different sources, stated that the Wen have begun retreating from HeJian, and that the Nie Sect is moving back into YingChuan, lining up for a direct attack.

XiChen can only deduce that Nie MingJue means to cut them off from QiShan, to catch them in a wedge between himself and the Jin Sect.

It is a good plan, XiChen thinks, and a logical one to make. But he does not trust Jin GuangShan. If they had more time, and if the distance was not so great, XiChen would have exchanged the Jin Sect for the Jiang Sect in a heartbeat. It does not take a lot to hold the line at ShuDong, and the Jiang Sect, along with WangJi, are wasted so far from the bulk of the Wen forces. But in a war, one must work with what one is given, and he hopes MingJue realizes the same, all while keeping his temper in check. Working closely with Jin GuangShan could test anyone’s patience, and his husband does not have much on his best day.

By the time he reaches the hills above the YingChuan, the Nie Sect has already set up camp, spreading nearly two li across the countryside. XiChen picks out another twelve small clans, their banners whipping in the wind, and a few larger gold tents of the LanLing Jin, set further north. It is easy to distinguish the QingHe Nie from the others, even without the Sect colors on blatant display. A shallow row of trenches has been dug to the northwest. Beyond them, to the south, the tents are perfectly lined up, row after a row. Beyond the tents, XiChen sees the supply wagons, and even further south, long picket lines of horses.

In contrast, the other clans, including the small camp set up by the LanLing Jin, look like scattered toys of some inattentive child. The rest of the Lan Sect is still some days out, but XiChen hopes they follow the Nie Sect example.

It takes a long time to make his way through the camp. Logically, he knows that QingHe Nie is much larger than the small corner he had inhabited for the last couple of months, but the sheer amount of people who know him by sight are astounding. He is forced to stop multiple times and speak to people he has never met, answer dozens of questions, refuse multiple attempts to be steered to some cook fire or another for food or tea, all while collecting a larger and larger number of disciples along the way. He also knows, logically, that Nie SuShen and Nie YongZhi, as well as the other disciples who are now surrounding him, are all sixteen and seventeen years old, only a few years younger than himself. Still, to him they seem like children, and he wishes MingJue had opted to leave them all at QingHe Nie.

It is nearly dark by the time he bypasses the empty Sect Leader’s tent, and continues on to the larger meeting tent to the north. The men he had brought with him turn southeast, intending to make a small Lan Sect camp beyond the Nie Sect lines, in a place where the incoming Lan Sect forces should be easily spotted, once they cross the mountains. The disciples had informed him that Nie MingJue and the twelve clan leaders have been in the same meeting since the sun was at its noon peak. Being the unrepentant gossips that they are, no doubt due to A-Sang’s influence, they also inform him that MingJue had already broken two tables, and physically thrown one of the clan leaders out of the tent the day before. They giggle about it, because to children, it is amusing to see large men being propelled into dirt like sacks of rice. But XiChen’s worry, carefully subdued for the last eleven days, flares high.

The disciples abandon him shortly after, none of them brave enough to continue on any further. XiChen finds Nie ZongHui standing guard outside the tent, and the man seems relieved to see him, bowing deeply.

The tent is large, but stifling hot, with two dozen men crammed inside. The murmur of voices stops when he crosses the entrance, every set of eyes turning to XiChen. XiChen, however, can only see MingJue, standing perfectly still at the head of the table, a thousand emotions XiChen had never seen before flying rapidly across his face. He looks tired, and his shoulder plate still has specks of blood embedded in the silver. Whoever is in charge of scrubbing his armor clean has done a poor job. XiChen will have to speak with them.

XiChen bows to the clan leaders, and is forced to listen to a string of congratulations on a job well done, only some of them genuine, and most of them patronizing in nature. MingJue has not moved to approach him, so XiChen makes his way through the crowd of men, subtly implying that he is not here to join in their discussion, but to see his husband, hoping they will take the cue and finish up quickly.

When he reaches MingJue’s side, he positions himself a few steps back from his husband’s right shoulder, making it obvious that he is simply waiting for the others to leave. Although some of them are slow on the uptake, majority seem ready to be done. The little bit that XiChen can see from the map tells him that they are hoping the Jiang Sect can push the Wen from ShuDong, while the Nie and the Jin are slicing into the HeJian retreating forces. There is also another marker, northwest of YiLing, bearing the cloud pattern of Gusu Lan. The same strategy again, except this time, if they pushed hard enough, the Lan Sect could actually reach the Nightless City, effectively cutting the Wen forces in half.

It takes forever for the clan leaders to make their way out of the tent, but even as they trickle out, XiChen moves a little closer to the map. Unless some of the information marked on it is wrong, the Wen are nearing YangYuan in their retreat. It looks as if MingJue means to hit them before they reach GanQuan, which is strategically the best option, but it also means that some of them will fall back against QingHe. Two of the smaller sects should probably be sent back, and LaoLing Qin is likely to insist that they be one of them. QingHe cannot fall, under any circumstance. There is a gaping, undefended stretch between QingHe and LanLing, where the Wen could easily swing back northwest and catch the Nie Sect from behind. It is an uncertain world, when the Nie must trust the Qin to protect their back, but a war makes for strange bedfellows.

“XiChen.”

Startled, he looks up from the map to find that all the clan leaders are gone. MingJue is watching him carefully, and XiChen smiles.

“It looks like I am heading back to YiLing,” he says, turning his eyes back to the map, “I wish I had not brought all of the man back with me now. This does seem the next logical place of attack, and with the entire Lan Sect pushing hard, we could reach the walls of the Nightless City before--“

“You are going back to QingHe,” MingJue says.

MingJue is no longer looking at him, but unhooking the shoulder plates from his armor. Disbelief keeps XiChen silent for a few long seconds, before he can come up with appropriate words.

There is no reason for this. They had agreed before XiChen left, that any supply columns they encounter on their way in or out of YueYang should be burned. They had agreed that any small Wen force they come across must be eliminated. XiChen had done exactly what they had agreed on, no more and no less.

“I should be leading the Lan Sect into QiShan. This is no different than--“

“You are going back to QingHe,” MingJue says again, dropping the left shoulder plate, splattered with blood, onto the table.

He begins unhooking the right, and XiChen feels that he is missing something here, something large and not necessarily related to the war strategy.

His stomach drops.

“You do not trust me to do this,” he says, “You do not think I am capable of leading them into the Nightless City--“

The right shoulder plate goes flying across the tent, smashes into the tea set on the side table, shattering both the pottery and the table itself.

“Eleven days!” MingJue roars, “Not a single message! Not a whisper! Three runners sent, for only one of them to return! A thousand times I pictured you dead! Wounded! Cut off in YueYang by the Wens! Bleeding out somewhere where no one could reach you!”

XiChen had flinched back in shock, but now he takes a deep, shuddering breath, and tries to remain calm, “We have spoken of this before departure. The chances were high that any message sent could be intercepted--“

“Two dead men,” MingJue growls, his voice tight with restraint, his eyes flashing, “That is the news the only runner who returned brought. Two dead men from the Lan Sect, and no one-- no one could tell who they had been.”

XiChen feels his stomach twist in guilt. It had never even occurred to him that MingJue would think him dead.

“Lan GuoZhi and Lan GongHui,” XiChen says softly, “The rest of them are back, and safe. You cannot win a war without losses--“

“Do you think I care for winning the war if you are dead!?!!”

The words strike XiChen like a blow, knocking all the air out of his chest. Something warm fills the space immediately, spreading far and wide, heating his face, making his hands tremble. There are only a few coherent thoughts flashing through his head, but they are blindingly sharp, leaving no room for others.

A heavy silence has fallen between them, and in it, MingJue seems to gather himself with some difficulty. He turns away, pulling the breastplate off his chest, and dropping it on the ground. XiChen distractedly thinks that no one will find it there when it needs cleaning, and that it is no wonder his shoulder plates still have blood on them.

The warmth in his chest throbs painfully.

There is a low platform set at the very back of the tent, holding the Sect Leader chair. It is tradition, to bring one along, and XiChen is surprised MingJue had allowed it, such nonsense traditions usually the last of his concerns. He would easily wager that Nie MingJue had not sat in it once since it was placed in the tent, and even now, MingJue proves him right by sitting down on the edge of the platform.

He no longer looks angry. He looks more tired than XiChen had ever seen him be, elbows resting on his knees, his shoulders slumped. Soundlessly, XiChen crosses the tent and settles down next to him, wanting to offer some comfort, but incapable of coming up with any words that would suffice.

“I should not have shouted at you,” MingJue says, his voice hoarse, “Forgive me.”

XiChen hums in response, and shifts a little closer, pressing their shoulders together. MingJue leans against him sightly, and takes deep, measured breaths, matching them to XiChen’s. XiChen had wondered if he should offer to play for him, but now he thinks this is working just as well. The warmth in his chest is throbbing with his heartbeat, and his body feels light all over, as if everything in the world has somehow shifted into its rightful place.

“The rest of the Lan Sect should be across the mountains tomorrow,” MingJue says, “We must strike at the Wen before they reach GanQuan. That leaves-- four days to reach YiLing.”

“We will only need three,” XiChen says, “They can rest here until nightfall tomorrow.”

“Move only at night,” MingJue says, “Wen RuoHan will expect something. It is unlikely he will be prepared for another attack from southeast, but--“

“We have rattled him enough that he has probably strengthened his defenses everywhere,” XiChen says, and smiles sadly, “the only downside of the original plan.”

MingJue seems as if he might say something else, but no words come, and they sit in silence for another few minutes, listening to the bustle of the camp outside the tent.

Finally, MingJue shifts, and stands up. He extends his hand to XiChen, and XiChen takes it, warm palm sliding against his, sending a tingle through his fingers.

“You should rest,” MingJue says, releasing him, “There are reports waiting for my attention.”

“Would you like me to play for you? It may make the reports easier to bear.”

“Not tonight. You have only just arrived, and must leave again tomorrow. Rest, sleep. If you are still willing, tomorrow will do just as well.”

XiChen wants to ask if the reports can wait until the following day, but does not. He understands that a single message could make the difference between moving tomorrow, moving two days from now, or having to retreat.

“Have you eaten today?” he asks instead, and MingJue huffs a laugh.

“I have not.”

“Then I will have some food sent to you, and you must promise to eat.”

“I promise,” MingJue says.

XiChen leaves the tent knowing that something is left unfinished between them, something neither of them can address right now. But he hopes there will be time soon enough.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #nielan #lan xichen #ficlet #m #arranged marriage au pt. 11 #taking liberiteeeessssssss #with locationsss #yup

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norhimorovine · 4 years

Text

The Asking Voice

Today, Norhi sat in the brewing shed that stood in the berry grove. She was quietly checking the bottles of the current season’s mead, shaking and measuring and taking notes. Now, typically, she did not allow her younger siblings into this shed, because of the delicacy of some of the jars. They were rambunctious kits still. But today, she heard them fidgeting outside the open door, whispering to each other.

She put a jar down and listened intently, while making her notes. It seemed it was Dischaus who was doing most of the hissing. “Just go ask her!”

Norhi barely heard Lhissa’s response, voiced in an unusually timid tone. “But she’s busy. And… and… we’re not allowed in there.”

Dis’s snort was easily audible. “Don’t have to go in. Just stand in the door. Sis always makes time for us.”

Norhi wasn’t sure if Lhis responded, when Dis spoke again. “Just let me ask her then!”

Norhi closed up her book of notes and set it aside on it’s shelf, turning to step outside. She grinned at the twins, watching Lhissa flail and hide behind Dis. Norhi side and waved at them to follow her. She grabbed a few baskets from beside the shed and gave them each one. She led them further into the berry grove and towards a bush of late summer rolanberries. She started picking berries and asked, “Have you ever heard the tale of The Asking Voice?”

Dis shook his head. “No?”

Lhis also shook hers. “We haven’t.”

Norhi nodded. “I think you’ll like this one.”

One cold, snowy morning, towards the end of an ancient winter, a mountain tribe huntress had come of age. Her mother was proud of her. Her sisters rejoiced for her. And her matriarch had great expectations of her. For you see, it had been a century since the last time the two moons eclipsed one another, atop the sacred mountain peak. And their tribe had a very special rite for that very rare moment.

In this rite, the youngest huntress of age is expected to journey through the ever frozen snows, to the tip of the sacred mountain. And it is there, that she is expected to give an offering of living blood, to the two moons. And the living blood had to come from something captured by the huntress herself.

The young huntress was so very nervous about this rite. Receiving the blessings of the two moons was very important for their tribe. It would promise them another century of peace and health, good hunting and safe hearths. And it would prove her to be as capable a huntress as her mother, aunts, and sisters.

For moons preceding the eclipse, she went out into their hunting range, setting traps and working diligently. She practiced and learned, capturing animals alive and setting them free. With each one, she whispered to it, “I apologize for this harm. But I must learn. I must earn the moons’ favor for my tribe. Please forgive me.”

Her sisters thought it odd, that she showed such compassion to the animals that she released. They scoffed at each apology they overheard, telling her she was soft. She merely turned away from their scorn and said, “I apologize for this harm. But I will not disrespect their lives. I must continue to learn. Please forgive me.”

Her mother even complained when she released an elk, saying that its meat and furs could have served the tribe well. The huntress merely bowed her head before her mother. “I apologize for this harm. But I cannot over hunt the range. I still need to learn more. Please forgive me.”

Finally, a sennight before the rite, she was still trapping and releasing. The matriarch called the huntress into her tent. “My child, your anxiety will undo us all.”

The huntress bowed on her knees to her matriarch. “I apologize for this harm. But I cannot go to the peak without assuaging my conscience. I will keep learning so that I do this right. Please forgive me.”

And finally the time came. Her sisters dressed her in the warmest leathers, imbued with their tribe’s prayers. Her mother braided up her hair, singing a song that told the story of the two moons. And her matriarch came and painted her face with the ink of juniper berries, muttering blessings of safety and success over her. They all watched the huntress take up her traps and strike out on the trial.

The huntress found the signs of stags on her chosen path. She set up her trap and hid, waiting patiently. Finally the snare snapped up and captured a young buck, with a clean pair of two pronged antlers. The huntress dashed forward and grabbed the ropes, trying to calm the stag and subdue. “Please please! I apologize for this harm! My tribe depends on me and the moons will not wait! Please forgive me. Please!”

The buck pulled on the ropes and answered, “I cannot forgive you for that which you do not ask of me!”

The huntress blinked and then bowed before the stag. “Please come with me so that I might give of your living blood to the two moons, atop the sacred peak. I request this of you with the whole of my heart and soul.”

The young deer then bowed his head. “Take the ropes from me and I will come with you.”

The huntress agreed and removed the ropes. They set off together, marching up the steep switchbacks that curled around the sacred mountain. For all that it was the dark of night, the radiance of both moons lit up the mountain’s side so clearly that the pair could climb without trouble.

When they reached the top, the buck knelt down on the rock altar that had stood on the peak for time longer than the tribe remembered. The huntress took out her knife and looked up to watch the moons. When the eclipse began. She stepped forward and cut along the buck’s side, not deep enough to be more than simply painful. She took her knife and wiped the blood on the altar, before applying a poulticed bandage over the cut.

The huntress stepped back and bowed to the stag. “Thank you from the deepest reaches of my heart and soul. Your kindness will be honored by my tribe.”

Above them, the moons suddenly spoke out, “You would only honor us with a pittance of blood? Why do you not spill the life of the buck? Is he not beneath you?”

The huntress blinked up at the moons and then frowned. “Are you so bloodthirsty that only a life taken will give you satisfaction? You ask for living blood. So I bring you a stag, who comes of his own free will, and gives to you of his blood. Will not his ability to go back and speak to the other animals, of the mercy of the moons, mean more to our future, than his death? Why must my tribe use cruelty to seek your kindness? We honor your pact! Is that not enough?”

The moons stopped her before she could ask another question. “Little asking voice, enough. You pleaded for forgiveness with every creature you’ve met. You answered the stag’s wish for your direct request. And you questioned our cruelty, defending the lives and voices of those you represent here today. You are given our blessings tenfold over the century before. For you know kindness and mercy, amongst the cold severity of your mountain life. Return to your sisters, your mother, and your matriarch.”

The moons dropped a beautiful round moonstone into the huntress’s hands. And she smiled and bowed to them. She turned to start hiking home, only to be surprised to see the stag still waiting for her. He bowed his head and turned to the side. “I will carry you home. And you will be blessed among my kind. When it is time for my antlers to shed, I will bring them to you, to make a crest for you.”

The huntress smiled and slowly climbed up onto the buck’s back. “You humble me, young lord of the forest.”

The buck started down the path, only to laugh in response. “And you humble me, little huntress of the moon, little asking voice.”

Norhi smiled as she finished the story, watching her siblings. “You see, by asking questions, by asking forgiveness, and by seeking a better way, the huntress brought honor and the moons’ respect to her tribe. There is so little harm in asking questions of someone. Some questions may be painful. And there may be a better time to ask them. But the best way for someone to give you an answer, is to ask the question.”

Lhissa fidgeted in her seat and glared at her brother for a moment. She then reached to hug her sister, as she asked, “Rhirhi… I want to start going with you on your trips to the cities. I want to help sell Zuzu’s potions and your plants.”

Norhi hummed at this, surprised. “I thought you wanted to be a healer and to follow Dis into trouble.”

Lhissa blushed and looked at her twin. Dischaus was the one to fidget this time. He finally spoke up and said, “Lhis and I… we decided we don’t want to be adventurers. Wars are scary. And there’s plenty we can do here, to serve and protect. So… I’m still going to learn to be an archer. But I’m going to be a hunter! I’m going to go out with Uncle Nhie’a and with Mama. And I’m going to learn how to hunt animals for furs and meat. For us and for selling.”

Lhissa nodded. “And I’m going to learn to heal, so that I can help heal at your shop. Or heal Dis after a hunt. But… I want to sell too! I want to learn!”

Norhi mused for a moment. “Tell you what. I’ll talk to Mama and start setting things up so we can do that. But… I can’t take you on the road till you’re twelve. And only then, after you’ve shown me that you can handle the job. So, what we’ll do, is I’ll start teaching you. You can come work in the shop. Learn the potions, learn the prices, and I will teach you about the cities. And… maybe, when we’re in Kugane next moon, you can practice with me at the markets there.”

Lhissa cheered and hugged her sister again. “I’ll study hard and learn everything!”

#FFxivWrite2020 #FFxivWrite #Miqo'te Tales

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thatwitchrevan · 3 years

Text

Hey so I saw this botw ask meme and I wanted to do it since I’m not feeling great rn and I miss botw, and rather than have people send asks I just thought I’d go ahead and answer them all! So here they are!

🐉 - farosh, naydra, or dinraal?

I love them all so much but I think Naydra was probably my favorite just cause I felt connected to them through having to do the quest to uncorrupt them. That segment was awesome and harrowing to play and made me feel like a hero, and whenever I saw Naydra afterwards it made me really happy :) I love them all though.

❤️ - otp?

I have a few! I think my ULTIMATE otp for botw is Zelink because they’re the otp of the series and because they were just so sweet in this game. I feel like their love and friendship is so central to the entire game. However while playing I also fell deeply in love with Sidlink and afterwards got really into Revalink as well. They’re both just very sweet ships. And an honorable mention to Miphlink, because while I don’t really ship it romantically on Link’s side, the memories between them and Mipha’s feelings for Link are so sweet and I have many emotions.

🐴 - what is the name of your go-to horse?

Probably Minnie! As I remember I have three main horses: Minnie, Blue, and Dapple, and I tried to switch them out but I think I ended up riding Minnie most often because she was my first horse and I just adore her. I love them all a lot and they’re all good and beautiful horses, I just tended to go for Minnie!

📝 - is there anything you would change about the game?

A few things! Firstly, I want to pet the dogs! And maybe some of the other animals, but especially the dogs. I also really wish Link had hugged Zelda in one of the final cutscenes. I’d tweak weapon durability so it wasn’t so annoying. And I may also tweak the cooking/recipe system a little cause I found myself getting annoyed at that during the late game. I’d add more NPC dialogue with all NPCs but especially important ones like Sidon and Teba and Paya/Impa because once you complete their quests they only say the same things over and over and never update to reflect your progress or the world state.

Oh, and this is a big one: POST GAME PLAY! I wanna play in Hyrule after beating Ganon, WITH Zelda, with all the NPCs recognizing that I’ve beat Ganon, with no Corruption or corrupted Guardians, and with fewer/less aggressive monsters and no Blood Moons. I just. Wanna run around Hyrule with my girlfriend and do sidequests. Nintendo please.

🌎 - favourite & least favourite region?

My favorites are Akkala, Lanayru, Faron, and Necluda. I’m not the biggest fan of northern Hebra where it’s really really cold and snowy, but I do like the area around Rito Village a lot.

🍃 - how many korok seeds have you collected?

A lot but not nearly all of them. There’s so many korok puzzles I’ve just passed because I didn’t feel like it lmao.

💠 - do you prefer to travel via the sheikah slate, by horse, or by foot?

On foot, usually. I always wanna collect things and explore and talk to NPCs. Which means it takes me a long time to get places and I get sidetracked and lost a lot. When I do take horses I often keep stopping to fight enemies, gather stuff, and check stuff out. So if I need to get somewhere quick I just fast travel.

🗡 - favourite weapon set?

uhhhhhhh. I really like the Gerudo weapons?

🎼 - favourite soundtrack?

Zora’s domain and the Dragon themes. And Kakiriko Village. And the Field themes.

🏆 - what was your divine beast order?

Vah Ruta, Vah Naboris, Vah Rudania, and Vah Medoh. I think I genuinely did them hardest to easiest by mistake.

🍽 - favourite thing to cook?

I... cannot quite remember. I know I cooked whole birds a lot, especially in Goron where I could just drop em on the ground. I made a lot of rice balls and kebabs as well.

📱 - favourite rune?

Probably magnesis.

👕 - what armour set do you wear most often?

The Gerudo vai outfit...

🎨 - did you ever make use of the dye shop in hateno village? if yes, which garment(s) did you dye?

Yes I got a second Gerudo vai outfit and dyed it. I also dyed one of my Hebra coats red.

⚔ - which boss fight did you enjoy the most?

hmmm... I think my favorite Blight was Wind Blight. I also enjoyed some of the Talus fights. And Calamity Ganon was stressful but fun.

🔶 - what was your favourite shrine quest?

I enjoyed the fire ones!

🎥 - what is your favourite memory?

Any memory where Zelda is actually happy, even for a moment.

💭 - most memorable moment?

Picking up the final memory by Twin Peaks Stable right before going to the castle ;-;

✨ - which armour pieces/sets have you upgraded completely?

I don’t think I finished any.

🛡️ - shield surfing or paragliding?

Paragliding! I love shield surfing but paragliding is so much more versatile and forgiving.

🏠 - if you could live in any of the settlements, which one would it be? why?

Kakiriko or Hateno. They’re so homey and the people there are so nice, and the early game nostalgia is strong.

🖼️ - what do you have mounted on the walls in link’s house?

Spare elemental weapons, and a few bows and shields.

🔮 - did you opt for full life hearts or full stamina?

I don’t think I maxed out either but I tried to balance while slightly prioritizing hearts.

#personal #ask memes #griffin plays botw #griffin plays things

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thotfuss · 4 years

Text

It’s been one week since I saw Cats and I feel like I’ve absorbed it enough to make a post about it:

The first shot of the movie-scratch that, it wasn’t even the first shot-the opening credits shot was a very badly edited cat face in the moon. The entire theatre laughed nervously, there were at least 3 audible “what the fuck”s

It’s important for you to know that we went at 10:15 on a Thursday night, I wrongly assumed that my group of 5 would be the only ones in the theatre, but there was another group of asshole teenagers who sat in the back row with us. the sense of solidarity that was present by the end of the movie was tangible.

30 seconds into the movie, a cat scampered down a completely vertical wall. My friend audibly gagged. I still feel bad for making him see this movie.He told us afterwards that he hadn’t seen a single preview for it, and that he simply imagined what human cats would look like in his head and therefore was in no way prepared for the reality of the horny cgi nightmare we had subjected him to.

4/5 of us had seen the “rebel wilson unzips her skin after eating a human cockroach” scene but it was somehow more horrifying than the first time we had watched it unprepared. By this point all of us, including the group next to us, had cried at least once. I know this because the guy next to me said “we’ve all cried at least once, haven’t we.”

I spent most of the movie thinking that the judy dench cat was the james corden cat. This has no follow up point, I just thought it was important to note that the cgi was THAT bad.

at one point, the james corden cat is showered in...champagne? i think it was champagne. The editing was so horrific that it looked as if it was being poured directly down his throat. he later ate a lobster claw in a very offputting manner, prompting my sister to say, very loudly, “did he have to deepthroat it though?”

The proportions were deeply unsettling. Why was the milk bar human sized? WHY WAS THE MILK BAR HUMAN SIZED? why could the main cat wear a ring as a bracelet, but also hold human utensils?

at one point, a dog could be heard outside the door. there was a palpable fear in the theatre that we would be forced to see what a dog looks like in this awful, fucked up universe. We did not.

Ian Mckellen cat was introduced as he was lapping milk out of a bowl. It was at this point i slid out of my seat onto the floor. The girl a few seats down had her head in between her legs. My friend had his sweatshirt hood cinched entirely around his face. At the point that Ian Mckellen said, in a fucking AWFUL rendition of a cat, “meow meow,” none of us could stop laughing for several minutes.

We were all bonded by this experience at this point, so the pretense of whispering to our separate groups was abandoned. My friend at one point said something to the effect of “if pennywise was real, he would appear as Jennifer Hudson’s snot lip.” Someone had to leave the theatre at this point. she was not back for 10 minutes.

At the point that sexy taylor swift cat shook her cat boobs at the screen, my friend got up and took a lap around the theatre. it was at this point that we realized there was a family of four in the front row, who were not reacting WHATSOEVER to this movie. None of us know if they were genuinely there as fans, if they had been transported there against their will, if they were planted by the theatre to increase audience capacity. We will never know.

Idris Elba took his coat off, as we all knew would happen, but we were NOT prepared. His ass crack was unbelievably pronounced. It didn’t need to be. Sexy taylor swift cat showed up to drug everyone, sing about Idris Elba being a cool ginger cat (he wasn’t!!) and disappeared forever. she did all the work! he didn’t even sing his own song. We knew that we weren’t going to have to see his dick, but none of us could shake the feeling that we would be forced to see his dick.

There was a recurring theme of a wide shot of the cats singing, followed by a close-up, followed by a pan-out to show that they were in an entirely different location with no explanation. At one point, the cats showed up on a railroad track. The proportions, again, indicated that the cats were roughly the size of the human cockroaches present earlier in the movie.

There was a cat wearing pants, which brings up the point of the wardrobe. some cats wore pants, some wore a full outfit, some wore shoes, some wore a shirt, some wore a coat, some wore jewelry, some wore nothing at all. the implications of this artistic choice are something i simply cannot consider. The cat wearing pants did a tap dance number, and then spun up into the air like a spinning top. why can these cats do magic? if all the cats can do magic, why was it a part of the story that one cat had to try REALLY HARD to do magic at the end of the movie to save judy dench cat? horrible.

Rebel Wilson unzipped her cat skin again. this time, it was a major plot point. I think all of us were openly weeping at this point, which sounds like a joke, but i cannot express the raw emotion that this movie invoked in all of us.

Jennifer Hudson won the contest, after spending the movie moping around and legitimately crawling away like a baby at one point. Every time she showed up there was a general muttering of “girl, move on.” She was too snotty to even be sympathetic, it was just bad.

At this point, Jennifer Hudson was transported into the sky via air balloon, literally to DIE. That is not an exaggeration, she won the contest so she got to go be reborn as a new cat with a new life. this whole movie was about a suicide cult. A furry, horny, suicide cult.

Judy Dench finished up the movie by monologuing at the audience. we were all so viscerally uncomfortable that we just exchanged tearful, emotionally exhausted looks. The main cat and the other cat who looked like special agent dale cooper from twin peaks were standing behind judy dench cat at this time, and genuinely looked as if they were about to devour her. They licked their lips, they inched closer, they were SECONDS away from cannibalism. Part of me wished they would pull the trigger, if only because it would cut this monologue short.

This movie was the worst thing I have ever seen. I once watched all three human centipedes back to back on 0 hours of sleep and it did not inspire the visceral disgust that Cats did. It was indescribable. If the people next to us had asked us to run away with them and form a community in the woods, i would have. Wherever they are now, none of us can pretend that we didn’t spend an hour and a half in a dark theatre watching cats be HORRIBLY horny for each other at all times. Do we all regret it? probably. But we all just have to live with this now. forever.

#there's probably more but. i am still absorbing. i . god #oh god oh fuck.#mine #long post

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the-jade-cross · 3 years

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A Thousand Years - Chapter 7

“Kamber isn’t feeling well?” Calliope asked. “That’s strange. Do you think it has something to do with the pregnancy?” Carlisle shook his head, “I don’t think it’s anything physical…. But emotional.”

Zayne smiled. “Well that is more than enough reason to want to see us…. But why did she specifically ask for Calliope and me?”

The doctor vampire shrugged, “She didn’t say.” Zayne was about to speak again but Calliope interrupted him. “We’ll go see how she is. Where is Edward?” “He left last night for a business trip,” Carlisle replied. “He’ll be back in three days. The twins are out with Jasper and Emmett, hunting.” The two Vicasi kids nodded before heading upstairs to Kamber’s room. When they entered, they found her sitting on the edge of her bed, a piece of paper in her hand and staring off into space.

“Kam?” Zayne asked. “What happened?” Kamber looked up at their appearance and her face showed signs of relief. Calliope rushed over and sat down next to her sister, wrapping her in a hug, “Whatever it is, we’re here to help you.” Zayne walked over and grabbing a chair, sat down on it backwards so he was facing Kamber, “So what’s up?”

Kamber sighed, looking down at the paper in her hands, “Edward has been acting weird the past several weeks. At first, I thought he was just busy or worried about trying to find a job and I told him it wouldn’t matter if he got a job or not, but he said it wasn’t that. Then yesterday he came home and acted all different and more loving than usual…. And he disappeared again to leave for the trip.” “He still isn’t around when you wake up?” Zayne asked, frowning. “Maybe he’s going through something difficult and he doesn’t want to worry you about it.” Kamber nodded, “That’s what I thought…. Until I saw a text on his phone while he was in the shower.” The girl grabbed her phone and turned on a photo that she had taken and showed it to Zayne. The boy looked at it and saw it was a screenshot of a text.

Edward: I told you to not contact me like this anymore.

Bella: You think I would listen? When will you come by tomorrow?

Edward: Usual time

Bella: Man of few words huh?

Edward: Stop annoying me

Bella: ooh so scary!

Edward: I’m warning you

Bella: Fine, just hurry over here before I die of boredom

“Why in the world is he texting his ex?” Zayne asked, frowning.

“Maybe she is annoying him,” Calliope suggested.

Zayne shook his head. “The way that she is talking, it sounds like they are doing something together. She asked when he would come by…. So that means he has gone to her house.” Calliope frowned, “Kamber, what do you think?” The girl shook her head, “I don’t know what to think. That’s why I need your help.” The two Vicasi kids smiled, “What is it?” “I need you to follow Edward. I don’t want to doubt him, but I am beginning to,” Kamber replied. “He is staying at this address.” She held out the piece of paper to Zayne who took it and looked at the address, “Seattle. Okay, when do we leave?” “In an hour,” Kamber replied. “Alice reserved you two tickets for a direct flight there. I got you a hotel room across the street from the hotel Edward is staying at.”

Calliope smiled and tapped her ear, “Good thing I have overly enhanced hearing. We may not even need to leave our room! And with Zayne’s sixth sense, we won’t get caught. What about mom and dad?” Kamber smiled, “I asked Jacob Black and Antigone to cover for you. They’re going to make up a story that you two went with Seth and Leah to Alaska to visit Edward’s cousins up there. Leah and Seth know about it and they are going up there to hunt.” “What about Edward’s cousins?” Zayne asked. “Just making sure there is no hitch.” “Rosalie called them.” Kamber replied. “The only ones who know the truth about the plan are Edward’s cousins, Rose, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, me, you two, Antigone, Jacob, Seth and Leah.” “That’s quite a few people,” Zayne pointed out, but Calliope interrupted him.

“But they’re all reliable. Don’t worry sis, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Kamber smiled, “I was going to ask Alice or Rose to go but Edward can read their minds. He cannot read yours.” “Got it covered,” Zayne told her, patting her shoulder. “Leave it to us.”

***********

Edward groaned. He had barely checked into his hotel room when Bella had called and told him that she was in the room across the hall from him. He had five minutes to get ready before they went out for a stroll.

Edward grabbed his jacket and pulling it on, stepped out of his room. He saw that Bella had already left her room and was walking toward the elevator. Edward followed but kept rolling his eyes and internally groaning. He completely ignored Bella as she waved her hips seductively as she walked.

When they reached the elevator, Bella opened the door and stepped in, revealing that it was empty. Edward stepped in and forced a smile onto his face.

He walked in and stood across the elevator from Bella. Edward watched as she punched the first floor.

The doors closed and they were left alone in silence.

“Good thing I chose the rooms on the top floor,” Bella smirked.

Edward frowned before looking at the panel to see that indeed they were on the 50th floor and were going all the way down.

Before he had time to register this, Bella had crossed across the elevator and had pressed her leg between his thighs and crashed her lips to his.

Edward wanted to resist but then he remembered their agreement. Groaning in his head, he grabbed the girl’s face with one hand and her thigh with the other, spinning around to pin her to the wall. Bella gasped and moaned as he pressed his weight against her and kissed her back, hard, darting his tongue into her mouth.

Little did he know, that a certain Vicasi girl was standing in her bedroom across the street from him with a shocked expression her face.

“Kamber isn’t going to like this,” Calliope whispered to Zayne.

The boy sighed, “There is no way we can avoid telling her. She knew something bad was happening. The least we can do is tell her the nicest way possible… that Edward is not loyal.”

***************

“Kam?” Alice whispered, peaking into her bedroom.

Viggo and Hunter were asleep in the room across the hall which had been renovated for them since they were now the size of five-year olds and moved in their sleep which meant that there was little room for them in the same bed as Kamber.

When Alice looked in, she was shocked to see Rosalie and Antigone in there, helping the girl pack!

“What is going on?” she asked, charging into the room but closing it so that the twins, who were napping, weren’t roused.

“I have to leave Alice,” Kamber replied, taking a pile of shirts from Rosalie and putting them in her backpack.

“But Kam…” Alice started but Rosalie interrupted her.

“Don’t tell me that you didn’t see this coming Alice. You can see the future,” Rose snapped. “You just didn’t tell us what you saw because you didn’t want to hurt Kamber.” Kamber lifted her eyes and Alice realized the girl had been crying… a lot!

“But why Kam?” Alice asked. “We should talk to Edward about it. He might have had a reason.” “For what?” Antigone snapped. “For kissing Bella in the elevator?” Alice froze. She had always tried to support her brother and remain loyal to him but now that she thought of it, Edward would have told them if something was going on or he was having a hard time…. And yet he went and did something like this without explaining it.

Alice sighed, “But where will you go?” Kamber took the books that Antigone handed to her and stuffed them into the little space left in her bag, “To visit my aunt and uncle in Austria.” “But that’s….” Alice started.

“A long way away,” Kamber finished. “Yeah I know. I was considering leaving one of the boys here with Edward but the last thing I want is for the two of them to be separated…. But I didn’t feel comfortable leaving both twins here. I don’t want them growing up without their mother and….”

The girl couldn’t finish for her voice caught in her throat and she had to swallow a sob. Alice walked across the room and drew the girl into a tight hug.

“I understand Kam. I only hope that one day you’ll be able to return home and we can fix this all up.” Kamber nodded, “One day… I hope.” Without another word, Kamber drew away from her and silently left the room. Rose and Antigone followed, carrying the two bags Kamber filled. When they met her in the living room, she was carrying Viggo on her hip and had Hunter’s hand in his. Both had backpacks on their backs and were looking rather puzzled.

The whole Cullen family, minus Edward, were in the living room as well as Kamber’s whole family.

“Are you sure about this honey?” Mrs. Vicasi asked, trying to fight tears.

Kamber nodded, “I need to do this.” One by one, her family members walked over and gave her a hug. She set Viggo down and allowed the twins to go and say farewell to their many aunts and uncles and grandparents. When Kamber reached Esme, the woman embraced her gently.

“I am glad that you met Edward when you did,” she whispered. “I believe you may have helped him.” Kamber smiled sadly and shook her head, “Not enough.” Finally Carlisle reached the girl and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Be careful. I know you are more than capable of protecting your family.” Kamber smiled before hugging the doctor vampire. Finally, the girl stepped back to look at her family. Viggo and Hunter walked over to her, both of them taking one of her hands.

The girl smiled at her family before she turned and headed out the door. Silently she threw her bag into the back of the truck that her dad had given her. She then lifted each of the twins and buckled them into their car seat before climbing into the front seat herself.

They were about halfway down the road when Kamber picked up her phone and dialed a number rather quickly before putting the phone to her ear.

“Calliope,” she whispered. “Update?”

There was a voice on the other end of the line before a smile lit up Kamber’s face, “Great. Let dad know…. No don’t call Alice, remember? Edward can hear her thoughts. Okay. Bye.” After hanging up, Kamber smiled but quickly put on a serious face before closing her eyes and concentrating. She entered her own mind and began to balance it out, that way her mind was no open to everyone…. No longer blocking her thoughts.

‘Why? Why Edward? Why did you do that?’

Then quickly, the girl reset the balance in her mind, so her mind was now blocked before she smiled into the rearview mirror at the twins who were smiling back.

Viggo turned to Hunter and quickly connected their minds.

‘Poor mother. She is so sad. I wonder why daddy isn’t coming home.’

Hunter smiled, ‘Same. I wonder why we’re going to Austria without daddy.’

Kamber smiled when she saw the twins looking at each other in the back seat. She knew what they were doing. She glanced down at her watch and saw she had two hours before the plane was to take off.

‘This is going to be interesting.’

***************

Edward was pressed against the wall of an alley way again. Bella was all over him, practically eating his face off. He sighed. This was the last day and then he could return home to Kamber and the twins and live a normal life. He would talk to Carlisle about moving, making an excuse about people suspecting Carlisle’s immortality.

Bella pressed into him and moaned, smirking when he was forced to smile at her. However, as Bella latched her lips to his neck, he froze. Did he just hear someone’s thoughts? He always stayed in tune with his parents and siblings’ thoughts…. But there was another pair of thoughts that caught his attention.

It was two people’s thoughts…. and they were talking to each other. Then it dawned on him. It was the twins! Maybe listening to the twins’ thoughts would help time fly by to when he wasn’t bombarded by Bella.

However, what the two boys were thinking of made Edward freeze.

Poor mother….

Why is daddy not home….

Mom was crying last night when Aunt Calliope and Uncle Zayne came home from Seattle….

Aunty Rose is really mad….

I think she’s mad at daddy….

Where is daddy….

Poor mother….

Why are we at the airport….

Mommy said we’re going to Austria….

Where is Austria….

Why isn’t daddy here?

Edward frowned, forgetting all about Bella and concentrating on his sons’ memories that kept coming in and out of his mind. Suddenly…. He caught a whiff of another thought close to the twins and he froze when he realized who’s it was….

Why did you choose Bella Edward?

I thought you loved me….

I promised I would always love you….

Maybe I wasn’t the right one for you….

But you were the right one for me….

I love you Edward….

Love you….

Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Edward seemed to snap and pushed Bella off of him, almost making her fall over.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, smirking, thinking that it was part of Edward’s playacting.

“Times up Bella,” Edward hissed. “You say a word and there will be a houseful of vampires after you.” Bella was barely able to open his mouth before Edward ran out of the alley at top speed and back to his car that was parked at the gas pump. He basically threw himself into the car and turned it on, flying out of the lot.

“Come on boys,” Kamber called to the twins.

Viggo and Hunter were staring around them in wonder as they walked through the airport. Kamber found a bench away from all the other people who were waiting to get on the plane and set her bags down. The twins walked over and plopped down on the bench next to her.

Kamber opened her phone and glanced at her texts. Antigone and Glynn had both texted her to check to see if she had gotten to the airport alright.

She glanced at the time and saw they had thirty minutes till the plane arrived.

“Come on,” she whispered nervously. “Please don’t be late.” Almost by magic, she sensed someone’s presence nearby and looking up, she saw a pair of amber eyes staring at her as the person rushed toward her. Kamber rose to her feet and glanced at the twins to see that they had spied the person too but were just smiling, probably talking to each other in their minds.

“Kamber,” Edward whispered hoarsely, coming to stop in front of her.

He was staring at her long and hard, expecting her to do anything…. Yell at him, slap him… anything. However, the girl just smiled up at him sweetly. Reaching up, she planted a warm kiss on his cheek.

“About time you got here,” she remarked in a teasing tone.

Edward furrowed his brow in confusion, “Listen Kam…. What happened with Bella…. I didn’t want to do it…. she… I mean she blackmailed me…. she said that if I didn’t…...” The girl cut him off when her laughter broke out and she had to clutch her stomach to stop from laughing. Edward stared at her wide eyed. What was going on with Kamber? After everything he had done to her, she was laughing. Was she drunk?

“You think I didn’t know that?” Kamber asked, finally calming down. “You think I didn’t know that Bella blocked you from getting a job and met you at the mechanic shop?”

Edward frowned, wondering how on earth she knew about that when a thought dawned on him, “But that is not even the half of it…” “Yeah I know,” Kamber replied, completely placid and calm. “She threatened to not let you get a job unless you spent time with her for a month but when you refused, she threatened to reveal her knowledge of your being a vampire. You agreed to a month of allowing her to fondle and kiss you if she agreed to keep quiet…. Then a few days ago she made a new offer to cut the deal short if you went on a three-day trip with her and pretended to return her advances….”

Edward felt his jaw drop and his eyes widened though his wife just smiled up him, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“How….” “You think I don’t know you Edward?” the girl asked, crossing her arms. “You don’t clear your history on the computer, and I saw what you were searching and all the emails you got with the refusals. In case you have forgotten, my dad is a lawyer, so I didn’t fail to notice that the refusal emails you got also had Bella’s email attached as well.” “Wait what?” Edward asked, freezing.

Kamber nodded, “Yeah, you kinda missed that part. Anyway, I paid a visit to the Swan’s and the chief told me that Bella was at the mechanics… and I knew you were there too. I called Calliope and asked her to investigate and find out what Bella was doing to you. Chief Swan admitted to going with Bella’s request of spreading a rumor about you to the employers and he promised to tell me whenever Bella left her house.” “But Bella lives alone,” Edward pointed out.

“Yeah well,” Kamber mused aloud. “Chief Swan isn’t stupid, and he knows about Bella’s habit of getting into mischief, so he tracks her phone. Whenever you left home, I would contact him and he would let me know where Bella had gone, then Calliope or Zayne would follow and…. Let’s just say my parents gave birth to a bunch of Sherlock Holmeses.”

Edward ran his fingers through his hair. His wife had known what had been happening the whole time!?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

Kamber smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her cheek on his chest, “I wanted you to tell me in your own time… but when you never said anything about it and tried to deal with this by yourself, I decided to take things into my own hands… a little more than I already had.” Edward frowned and glanced over Kamber’s head at the twins who were grinning cheekily at their father.

Fooled ya!

Don’t say that! Mommy said to not tease daddy

It’s funny though that he actually believed it!

Edward’s eyes widened at his sons’ thoughts before he gently pushed Kamber back to look at her grinning face.

“You mean…. Letting me hear your thoughts…. Alice, Emmett, Jasper and Rose’s thoughts about you leaving…. you pretending to go to Austria….” “It was all a set up stupid,” Kamber said, punching his chest playfully. “I had to get you home somehow and I thought that if you believed that I was leaving with the twins, then you come home and actually open up about what is going on in that brain of yours. It’s great that you can read minds but Edward, that doesn’t mean you cannot share your thoughts with others.” Edward let out a shaky breath and felt tears creep to his eyes. He should have known that Kamber was suspicious. After all, she is her father’s daughter!

He slumped, his hands falling to rest on Kamber’s shoulders before he lifted his head, tears rimming his golden eyes. Finally, he did what he had been wanting to do for three days. He drew the girl’s head up to him and crashed his lips to hers.

Yay!

Shut up!

Don’t tell me to shut up! You are just as happy!

Shut up.

I wonder when mommy is going to tell him about the surprise.

Like he isn’t surprised enough already.

You’ve got a point.

Edward smiled at his sons’ thoughts. They definitely got their sarcasm from their mother! However, what Viggo had said caught his attention. Gently he pulled away from the kiss and looked down into Kamber’s eyes.

“So… what is this surprise that our sons are thinking about?” he asked, smiling.

Kamber looked over at the twins to see that they were smiling sheepishly, not realizing that their father had been listening the whole time. Turning back to Edward, she reached down and taking his hand into hers, pressed it to her abdomen.

“I was going to wait until you got back from Seattle to try and reach you… but after I found about this little one, I didn’t want to wait.” Edward’s mouth dropped back open and the twins chuckled at this. They found it rather amusing to see their father’s surprised expression. Viggo scuttled off the bench and dragged his twin over to their parents before gripping his father’s leg and looking up at him.

“You better kiss her daddy, or I will,” the boy replied, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Edward and Kamber chuckled when Hunter quickly covered his brother’s mouth and clobbered him over the head for saying such a thing.

Edward looked down at Kamber who was smiling at him and he felt his heart relax. He bent down and pressed a warm, gentle kiss to her lips and Kamber smiled into it, both of them ignoring the gagging noises that Hunter was giving them and the fangirling squeals from Viggo that were partially muffled by Hunter’s hand that was still over Viggo’s mouth. Everything was going to be okay now. He hadn’t lost Kamber or the twins and he could figure out how to deal with Bella…. No scratch that…. They could figure out how to deal with her together.

Suddenly Edward pulled away, his eyes widened.

“What about Bella?” he asked, biting his lip.

Kamber smirked and patted her husband’s cheek, “You’re so cute when you’re clueless.”

Edward cocked his head in confusion while Kamber looked at the twins. She wasn’t sure she wanted them to hear this, so she stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear.

“She was trying to seduce you to make her crush jealous.”

“How can you be sure that was it?” Edward asked. “She might have had an ulterior motive.” “Oh she did,” Kamber replied, whispering into his ear again. “Cuz her crush is a girl.” Edward froze, Kamber’s mouth still close to his ear. “You mean….” “Yep,” Kamber whispered. “Bella is lesbian.”

#Edward Cullen x oc #Edward Cullen #twilight

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