#it just seemed appropriate to end it there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natalievoncatte · 1 day

Text

It began with a sneeze.

Lena’s entire body tensed, pain wracking her sinuses, and she tried to tamp it down and swallow it. There was a room full of investors, and she paused mid-presentation. She held up a protesting hand, signaling that she needed no help, and waved off her assistants. Finally the feeling subsided and she soldiered on, accidentally repeating part of the presentation. It didn’t matter, it was just a formality.

After, she was sitting alone in her office and she did sneeze this time, hard, into a silk handkerchief. A dull ache had settled into her bones and she felt droopy, tired. Still, she had work to do. Not the work she wanted to do. Not running the company, not strategizing. Not inventing or innovating. It was menial. It was assigned. She worked for her brother.

It was his pretty revenge, because Lena shot him two times in the chest. Then a bunch of very strange shit happened and Lena suddenly found herself in an entirely different world where Lex had never died, even though they both remembered it. A hellish nightmare world where Lillian was a philanthropist and Kara and all her friends worked more or less for Lex, keeping aliens in check.

Lena couldn’t go to her best friend for help, because her best friend had betrayed her. Lena almost wished she’d been erased when the multiverse collapsed, replaced by a copy of herself who’d never felt this agony.

There was a truth she would never admit, even to herself.

She’d feel better if Kara was here.

The days dragged on and so did her cold. Except, it wasn’t a cold. On the third day she woke to a high fever, feeling a little wobbly when she forced herself out of bed. Her sinuses burned and she had to breathe through her mouth. When she took her temperature, it was elevated, close to being dangerous. Every muscle and joint on her body ached and the sight of food made her retch involuntarily.

Lena had the goddamn flu.

She did something she’d never done: by a curt email, she informed her staff that she was ill and would not be in the office today. Instead, she rummaged through her closet, her breath catching on a familiar sweatshirt.

It was a Midvale High School Mathletes sweater. It was Kara’s, but Lena knew with a certainty that Kara had not been in Lena’s penthouse since It Happened. There was no way for this to get here but…

She stifled a sob. This world had its own Lena, one whose life she’d appropriated or merged with or God knows what, and that Lena Kara’s clothes in her home. Lena kept stumbling across them and it hurt more every time.

Had they been happy, before? Kara must have spent the night. They must have been close. Lena had been close with her Kara; they hung out and Kara had slept over a few times but they weren’t really on your-clothes-in-my-closet terms. Had that been what happened here? Did they share the bed? Were they…

Did they…

Lena put it on, felt it shelter her body. She put in two pairs of leggings and hoped her laptop would warm her. She curled with it on the couch, and got exactly nothing done. After three hours she closed the computer and flipped channels until she found the old friend of the seriously ill and the chronically unemployed: reruns.

Curling on one end of the couch, she laid her head to rest on the arm and her eyes slid closed.

It seemed that as soon as she did, she opened them again. Her head was throbbing. She tried to push herself up, but it was too great an effort and she flopped down again. Her throat was dry and sticky, and unable to breathe through her nose, air came in reedy wheezes. Swallowing only made it worse, and she felt a rising panic.

Something beyond sleep, thick and heavy, was dragging her down, even as she struggled.

A chill night breeze rolled over her, and she shivered explosively.

"Easy now. I've got you."

Powerful arms lifted her limp body and carried her. Gently, Lena was laid on her bed and a blanket thrown over her.

She opened her eyes. Kara sat her up, cradling her in one arm as she held a glass in another, so Lena could drink. She let the cool water wet her throat and did her best to breathe again. Gently, Kara lowered her back down to rest and folded a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. Lena sighed in relief.

“Get out. Don’t want you here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara whispered. “I can’t leave you alone like this. I’ll be right back.”

She was indeed right back, Supergirl walking into Lena’s budoir carrying a drug store bag full of medicine. She sat Lena up again and administered the foul tasting stuff over Lena’s protests, then shut off the lights.

Lena tried to roll on her side. It didn’t go well.

Kara knelt and slipped out of her boots. Then, she undid one side, then the other, and unclasped her cape from her shoulders. She then swept it over Lena and tucked it around her gently.

“Kara,” Lena muttered.

“Hush. It’s a blanket. It’ll keep you warm.”

Lena wasn’t sure what happened next, if she dreamed it or if it was real, but she felt the bed shift as Kara climbed aboard and laid down beside her.

Eventually, she woke up again. Kara was tucked against her back, one arm thrown protectively over Lena’s side, resting on her blanket cocoon. Kara snored lightly, lying on the bed so that her chin rested on the crown of Lena’s head.

Kara noticed she’d stirred and silently stood, offering Lena her next dose of syrupy, nasty medicine. She accepted it just as silently and laid back down to sleep.

The cycle continued. Day came. Kara didn’t leave her. She drew the curtains and laid on the bed beside Lena, never speaking, never making any demands.

Finally Lena was well enough to roll over and face her.

“Why are you here?”

“I heard Gillian’s Island coming from your living room and thought you must be in danger.”

Lena snorted in spite of herself.

Kara softened. Her big blue eyes, eyes that could launch a thousand ships, carried such a weight of sorrow that Lena felt a surge of pain and regret in her heart, wondering why in the hell they were feuding. No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just…

“I’m sorry.”

Lena tucked herself into the blankets. She wanted to roll over, to turn away, to stop this before she did something she would regret later.

“I keep finding your things in my place,” Kara murmured. “It makes me wonder if it was different here. If we were different. What if I’d made other choices. If I’d been honest with you. Bolder.”

“You weren’t,” said Lena. “You aren’t. That’s the way it is. That door was closed.”

“When I landed on your balcony, it was open.”

“A mistake I won’t repeat. Careless. Thank you for helping me, but I didn’t need it. I don’t need you.”

Kara closed her eyes and sighed.

“I hate doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re lying.”

Lena jerked back, as much as her aching body would allow, anyway.

“How do you know?”

It didn’t hit Lena that she hadn’t offered a denial, at least not until later.

“Easy,” Kara smiled. “I cheat. Skin conductivity and moisture levels. Heat bloom on your skin. Pulse. Pupil dilation. Breathing patterns.”

“I have the flu. That’s why.”

Kara frowned.

“You’re wearing my sweater.”

“It’s not yours. It’s hers. The lives we stole.”

Kara shook her head. “That’s not what he did. Your brother created this world to live out his fantasies and make me suffer. That’s why your things are at my place and mine at yours. It’s showing us the life we should have had,” a tear shone on Kara’s cheek, “had I not been a fuckup and a coward. If I’d trusted you.”

Lena choked back a small sob, and started to cough violently.

Without a word, Kara gathered her up and rested Lena’s head on her shoulder, walling her up in those beefy, protective arms of hers. Lena allowed it, curling her fingers against the twitching muscles of Kara’s back.

Lena wanted to pull away…

No. That was a lie, a miserable fucking lie. She didn’t want to pull back. She didn’t want to fight. She thought she had to, that she needed to.

“Don’t cry,” Kara said, tenderly brushing a tear from Lena’s cheek. “I know you’re furious with me. I know things are bad. I know your brother has power over us. It’ll get better. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

“You already hurt me.”

“I know,” Kara whimpered, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’ve never been more sorry about anything in my entire life. I wake up every day praying I can find some way to take it back."

"You can't."

Kara tensed.

"Maybe you don't have to," said Lena.

Kara's breath caught. She lowered Lena to the bed, and this time wrapped them in the blankets together. She was so warm.

"I've got you."

Blessedly, Lena slept.

Each time she woke, she felt better. Eventually, she was well enough for Kara to leave the bed. A few minutes later, Kara came back, and she brought breakfast. Her appetite back, Lena dug in, enjoying the tea Kara brought.

Kara took the tray and plates when she was done.

"You look a lot better."

Lena nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you."

Silence. There was a heavy pause, and then Kara sat down beside her on the bed.

"I wish I'd been brave before."

Lena looked at her, really looked at her, this enchanting vision looking at Lena like she hung all the stars in the sky, her eyes so full of longing that Lena felt she might fall into them forever.

"What would you do if you were brave?"

"This."

Warm fingers curled around Lena's chin. Kara leaned in, and Lena felt it happen even before their lips touched. When they did, it was electric. Lena felt the world spinning. Kara caught her and lowered her to the bed.

"I don't care about multiverses and cosmic entities and your evil brother. No matter what they throw at me, I will always find my way back to you. If you want me."

Lena pulled her down into another kiss, and that was her answer.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #kisscorp #first supercorp kiss #yet another love confession #yet another first kiss #apologycorp #make up sexcorp #supercorp hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #sickfic

189 notes · View notes

delicatebarness · 2 days

Text

i cant read your mind | chapter one

Summary: It has been six months since half the universe came back, six months since Steve left, six months since you lost Natasha, and three months since finding out the man you were sleeping with wanted to end it.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout.

Word Count: 1600

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I have watched TFATWS at least 6 times this week so I am prepared for this.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff

As Sam addressed the crowd at the Smithsonian, you listened to his every word by Rhodey’s side. You let yourself laugh at the appropriate moments and fought back tears as your friend paid tribute to another. Your heart ached as you watched him pass on the shield, the symbol that guided you to become the best agent you could and more.

“I can’t do this,” you murmured almost inaudibly as you slipped away from the crowd, retreating to the quiet street. You steadied your thoughts, taking a few deep breaths. Retrieving your phone from your purse, you hesitated before dialing a number. “Come on,” you urged as the ringing persisted.

Disappointment washes over you as you realize there’s no answer on the other end, you stand there for a moment. Staring at your call lost, feeling the loneliness creep in as you see that none of your calls have been picked up. Taking another deep breath, you put your phone back and start walking. Each step is a deliberate effort to move forward.

While navigating the streets of Washington, your thoughts are focused on the events at the Smithsonian. The passing of the shield symbolized the end of an era for you. An era that had taken over her entire adult life.

You enter your quiet apartment and sink onto the couch. The weight of the day, flight, and lack of food were starting to seem heavier, you couldn’t bring yourself to get changed out of the formal black dress you had been wearing since half four that morning. You retrieved your phone from your purse once again, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated whether to try calling again.

You knew it was getting late but you dialed the number again, heart pounding with anticipation. As the phone rang, you tried not getting your hopes up, but they were crushed when it went to voicemail.

Sighing deeply, you set your phone down as you got back up from the couch and made your way back out into the street. You were proud of yourself for not letting the tears spill down your cheeks.

The streets were quiet, and the soft glow of the streetlights offered a semblance of solace. With no destination in your mind, you wandered as the hunger gnawed at your stomach. Searching for a nearby restaurant for a late-night bite, you approached the diner you knew as Izzy.

Your heart lurched in your chest as you recognized the figure through the window, sitting opposite a woman, she seemed to be laughing at whatever it was he was telling her. Playing a game of Battleship and drinking. “Not like that’s going to affect him,” you thought as you took in the sight. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, the tears you previously held back now beginning to spill.

Once you were home and washed the day off of you, a hint of optimism rose from within you. Deciding to open yourself up to a new experience, you downloaded a popular dating app and uploaded all the photos of you in dresses that hugged your body just the way you loved. The way he once said should be for his eyes only. Swiping through profiles, it didn’t take long for you to come across someone who caught your eye, and match with them.

You exchanged messages for the rest of the night, at some point agreeing to meet for brunch the next morning.

Your date was waiting for you when you arrived at the cafe, a friendly smile lighting up his face. Exchanging greetings, he pulled out a chair for you and helped with your coat and bag. You thanked him, finding yourself relaxed in his company.

Settling into conversation, you shared stories, laughed, and began feeling a genuine connection. You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly feel this happy in three months, letting yourself let go of the weight that had been pressed into your chest for so long.

“Is that? Is that The Winter Soldier?” your date asked, his focus moving away from you and instead toward the entrance of the cafe. Turning your gaze over to where your date had been looking, it felt like time stopped as you looked into the eyes of a furrowing James Buchanan Barnes. His fist clenched under his leather gloves.

“Here we go,” you mumbled under your breath as you noticed him making his way over to you. With trembling hands, you reached for the glass of champagne that sat on the table in front of you. Tilting the glass back, you swallowed every last drop of it in an attempt to calm yourself down.

“I need to speak to you,” Bucky growled, his voice low and commanding as he towered over you. As much as you’ve wanted nothing more than to be around him for the last three months, you kept your gaze fixed on your date. “Now.”

“I’m on a date,” your tone even with a hint of defiance as you responded to the super soldier. You watched as the eyes of your date filled with fear and amazement.

“I can see that,” he replied dryly, sarcasm dripping in his tone as he gave your date a pointed look. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the tension between you and Bucky.

“Whatever you have to say, it can wait,” your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m here with someone else,” you added emphasis on ‘someone else’ as you sensed him tense up beside you.

Your date cleared his throat, shooting a hesitant glance between you and Bucky. He spoke up, his tone polite but uneasy. “Perhaps I should… give you two some privacy?” He began to stand from the table, making his way over to the restrooms. Bucky quickly sat in the seat he had previously occupied.

Your gaze was ablaze with a mixture of hurt and frustration as you finally made eye contact with Bucky. “What do you want?” your voice trembled slightly.

Bucky couldn’t suppress the sarcasm that came from his tone as he looked over toward the restrooms. “Well, he seems like a real charmer,” his tone full of irony.

You shot him a disapproving look, eyebrows knitting together in a silent warning. “Again, what do you want?” Bucky looked back at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his hips. Rolling your eyes, you defended the man you had known for less than 12 hours. “He’s a nice guy,”

Leaning back in his seat, Bucky folded his arms across his chest as he sent you a knowing look. “If you say so,” he remarked. If it wasn’t for the dry and snarky tone, you’d have thought he was backing down. “And, I’m sure he can handle a doll such as you,” he continued while sending you a wink.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me like you have done for the last three months?” you sighed, picking up your fork and using it to move food around your plate.

“I saw the pictures you used for your little dating profile,” he glared at you when he noticed a smirk now taking place over your lips.

You shrugged nonchalantly and replied with a calm tone. “Yeah, and?”

His jaw tightened at your response, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Thought they were only for me?” he pressed.

Your expression softened, remorse flickering over your features as you looked back at him. “Things change,” you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. “I waited five years for you to come back, five years of not even knowing if you were coming back,” your voice quivered with emotion.

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he straightened his posture. “I know-” he began to speak but you cut him off before he could finish.

“No, Bucky, you don’t” you shot back at him, your voice rising with each word. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it was like, not know where you went, or if you were alive or dead, or if you’d even come back,”

His jaw once again clenched, “I waited over 90 years for you to come into my life,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion and vulnerability.

Your eyes widened at his admission, you were both surprised and in disbelief, “But yet, you only waited three months before jumping into bed with someone else,” you accused, voice thick with bitterness. “How was your night of Battleship, by the way?”

His hands balled into fists on top of the table, his voice raised to match yours. “Firstly, I didn’t sleep with her,” he retorted. “And secondly, what the fuck is this?” he gestures toward your date as he started to make his way back out of the restroom.

“I’m sorry,” your date now interrupts your conversation with Bucky as she makes his way back over to you. “I didn’t know you two are exes,”

“He’s not my ex!”

“She’s not my ex!”

Alone in the dimly lit apartment, you allowed yourself to have a moment to rest, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The weight of your date pressing down on your shoulders. Surprisingly, he asked for a second date. Once Bucky had left, he offered to take you out again another time. You happily agreed.

As you began to drift into a state of relaxation, the sound of the television caught your attention. “... it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

“What the fuck?!”

---

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #fatws!bucky x agent!reader #fatws bucky #fatws #fatws au

106 notes · View notes

synthetickitsune · 13 hours

Note

omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻

thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk

DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader

He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.

The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…

“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.

“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”

He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.

“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.

The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”

“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”

Your smile is sad. He hates it.

“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.

“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”

“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”

You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.

“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”

You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too.

“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”

He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well.

“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”

“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”

“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup.

Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.

“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.

“You got it, Min.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svthub #seventeen x reader #dk scenarios #dk angst #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #svt reactions #svt scenarios #svt angst #drabble #angst #requested

29 notes · View notes

dontinterupt · 3 days

Text

having low empathy but being basically trained your entire life to speak and act in a way that makes people think that youre EXACTLY the person they need to talk to for comfort when theyre going through some shit is HORRIBLE.

i used to think it was great at the start because youll hear people praise you for it and say things such as 'oh youre like the only person i wanna talk to about this' and it makes you feel special and like you know a bunch of stuff that no one else will ever know because youre YOU.

but now ive really used up all my words, and im done being phoned at ungodly hours, and im done being treated like ive transformed into this unforgivable villain because im not acting in the way you expect this time, and im too tired, or god forbid i might have my own things going on.

when i dont have the right words or some sage advice or kind tone. when my face doesnt look right....or whatever else. its too hard. specially when its over and over and over again. i always end up going from someones 'favourite person ever' to someone 'insensitive' who 'doesnt care'. and 'oh you've changed.'

maybe i just dont want everyones bad news... 90% of most of my days if not more is someone coming up to me and barely making conversation and having meaningless small talk and then waiting for the time when its appropriate to say 'so about me-'

and im just expected to sit there every time and know what to say, but to be honest what are you even MEANT to say, theres only so many times i can say 'im sorry', and im no life expert so its not like i can give some great advice for every situation, i dont know what else im meant to say... ' i hope you feel better' 'im sorry' 'that sucks' LMAOOO.. and then most of those still seem uninterested to a lot of people. or if you say them 'too many times'

im out of words, theres nothing else to say.

so i sit and i stare at peoples texts and hear peoples words and constantly just think to myself in anger, 'wtf and i supposed to even say to that?' because thats how it feels every time.

#ramblings #peter #npd #actually npd #npd vent #actually narcissistic

20 notes · View notes

patchwork-crow-writes · 3 days

Text

The RalsAlmanac, Volume I

Okay, here it is! A series of essays that will attempt to definitively explain just who or what Ralsei is, referring to scenes from the game as evidence, as well as external sources where appropriate.

There will be some conjecture, as there's just so much we don't know about him, and what little we are given isn't exactly the most revealing. However, I've done my best to cleave as closely to the source material as I can, and I believe there's a strong case to be had here.

Hopefully you'll be able to see where my points come from, or at the very least you'll learn something you didn't know before. Either way, thanks for your consideration!

Volume I - Ralsei Is A Character In A Role-Playing Game.

Self-indulgent reference out of the way, lemme ask you a question.

Who is Ralsei?

It's a question that seems like it should be easy to answer. He's the Prince From The Dark, the third of the three Delta Warriors, he exists to serve the lightners, and is the most precious little cinnamon roll that ever lived. He enjoys baking and crochet, can hold a tune, is a decent interior-decorator, and holds his friends Kris and Susie in very high regard.

Thing is, that's about all you can really say about him without veering into speculation and headcanons, and they're more surface-level observations than anything else. What exactly does "Prince From The Dark" mean, for instance? Prince in what sense, exactly? Ceremonial, or with the actual power that royalty conveys? Where does he rank in comparison to, say, King or Queen, both actual rulers of actual kingdoms? The title of "prince" would suggest that he answers to them, but while they rule their own municipalities, Ralsei's title implies he rules over ALL dark worlds. You could go on asking these questions forever, but I think you see what I'm getting at.

A more productive avenue of questioning might be: What role does Ralsei play in the story of Deltarune? Perhaps more of his underlying character and motivation could be gleaned by looking at what he does for the story and the game. And this would be correct... sort of.

We tend to think of him as the squishy healer of the party, the Heart and moral centre of the Fun Gang. And he absolutely is that, but he's also quite a bit more. He plays all sorts of different roles and character archetypes in the first two chapters of the game, including but not limited to:

the old man whose purpose is to wax poetic about the ancient prophecy...

the know-it-all tutorial fairy who walks you through the basic game mechanics...

the straight-man DM trying to keep everything on the rails...

the young sheltered noble experiencing the outside world for the first time...

the demure love-interest to the main protagonist...

the Polyanna determined to see the good in everybody...

the mysterious waif who knows things he shouldn't...

...eye candy…?

...and so on and so forth.

And so what, I hear you cry. Characters in video games can have more than one personality trait, after all. And yes, this is true! But usually, the different aspects of a character's roles, how they interact with, reinforce or contradict each other, can tell us more about their inner world - what motivates them, what they actively like and dislike... in short, it grants them depth and allows us to engage with them as actual people, rather than just a series of game functions and character traits dressed up in a pretty bow.

But that's not what we see with Ralsei. In fact, far from showing us any real, deep aspect of his character, each new guise he dons and part he plays in the narrative further obfuscates him from us. We learn no new meaningful information from any of these exchanges... except for one thing, but we'll come to that in a moment.

This vexes us, because we WANT to know more about him, but all we end up getting is stock JRPG tropes dressed up in a warm, fluffy coat. There HAS to be something deeper, we reason - he's hiding things from us, so he must be a secret villain. Or his backstory is so tragic, so traumatising, that he cannot properly articulate it to us right now. Or maybe what we see really IS what we get - a simpering, airheaded fool whose only desires in life are to be cute, please his betters and do what he's told. Yet even this explanation seems... unsatisfying, especially since we KNOW he harbours some angst about himself and his sense of identity.

And speaking of which, that one thing we learn? Right at the end of Chapter 2's Acid Tunnel sequence, he utters a single sentence:

This is arguably one of the most significant lines of dialogue in the entire game up to this point. But what does it mean, exactly? I believe most people assume it means he doesn't have a clear sense of who he is outside of his ordained purpose, which is certainly valid, and definitely something I believed for a long time. And yet, this explanation does not deepen our understanding of his character in any meaningful way; looking back over all his interactions with the cast, it does not allow us to glean any further information about him.

And you can say that's because he himself doesn't know what he's like... but again, this doesn't actually change anything, and we just end up with a circular logic trap. We don't know anything because he doesn't tell us anything, and he doesn't tell us anything because he doesn't know anything, so how can we be expected to know anything, except that no-one seems to know anything about him… which is very frustrating to us Ralsei scholars, and gets us no closer to truly understanding him.

But look at what he says again. Really look at it. It’s a very strange way of saying “I don’t really know who I am”, isn’t it? After all, if that’s what he means, then why doesn’t he just say that? I’m certain you’ve realised by now, but it’s because that’s NOT what he’s saying at all. He literally has no clue what being “himself” is supposed to be, because he wasn’t even created with a sense of “Ralsei-ness” in the first place. Little wonder, then, that we can’t discern anything about his internal world, when there is nothing there to be discerned.

But before I elaborate any further, I want to talk about a couple of scenes in Deltarune that are just... puzzling. This is relevant, I promise. The first is during the dialogue with Rouxls Kaard before the rematch with K.Round. Ralsei says something interesting in the lead-up to the fight:

Note Susie’s baffled reaction to this. Then not long afterwards, he continues with:

Throwaway joke, right? We laugh because Susie's right - K. Round and its crown do look exactly the same to us, and so Ralsei's dramatic utterances are deflated and lose their impact. We laugh, beat the boss with Susie's help and forget all about it. But here's the thing - if K.Round looks the same to us, and it looks the same to Susie, and presumably by extension the rest of the in-game characters... when why exactly does Ralsei take the time to insist otherwise?

Is he... lying? Our most precious little boy, guilty of perjury? Say it ain't so! :O

The second scene is in chapter 2 - Queen has challenged us to a game of Punch-Out on her absurdly tall arcade machine, and we can talk to the characters before trying to interact with it. Talk to Ralsei, and if you answer "Gaming is my life" to his prompt, he says this:

Most people don't even come across this in their playthrough, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's new to you reading this. But again, note this strange discrepancy between what Ralsei reports is happening and what Susie says is actually happening. It becomes apparent to most people that Kris can affect the tone of their voice when saying what we tell them to, which affects how the response is taken by other characters and gives us a subtle clue about how they actually feel about certain characters or situations.

Are we to assume, then, that Ralsei isn't actually listening to how Kris says things, but only what they're saying? And if that's correct, then... what does that say about him?

Taken at face-value, within the context of the game, neither of these events really make much sense. It just looks like Ralsei is being overly-dramatic, or lying, or perhaps even insensitive to what their friend is trying to tell him, which doesn't quite track with his per-established shallow traits of kind, all-loving and moralistic. It's perplexing and seemingly out-of-character for him. So it might help to consider, in each of these scenarios, who exactly Ralsei is talking to.

Is it Kris and/or Susie? This would make the most sense, but it's actually not that likely, considering the aforementioned discrepencies between his descriptions and Susie's observations. So is it himself? Again, if he can see things the same as everyone else in-game, that wouldn't make much sense, because then he's just saying stuff that... isn't true? Or in the latter example's case, just completely ignoring what Kris is saying, which doesn't seem to entirely gel with what we know about him.

So, who does that leave? Well, the only other person - or should I say entity - who is present for both of those scenes is... us. The player of Deltarune. And that might seem even stranger than the previous options, until you realise what it is he's actually doing - providing flavour text, additional exposition informing us of details that we wouldn't - or shouldn't - be able to make out on a pixelated display with no voice-acting, attempting to give us a richer sense of these events in order to increase our sense of immersion in the game and world of Deltarune. In effect, he's playing the part of a character in a role playing game, doling out “flavour text” that contradicts another character’s experience of the same scenes, and he's doing it entirely for OUR benefit. Not Kris’s, not Susie's – ours.

He tells us that K.Round's crown is different, and that it is in pain from its forced control, to try and increase the stakes of the fight, and to give us a motivation that's not "here's the exact same boss again lul". He responds to Kris's words the way he does, not because he doesn't understand the nuances of their tone, but to try and amp us up for the upcoming challenge, and to validate our choice when we select the dialogue option "Gaming is my life". Because we cannot hear Kris's tone of voice - and Ralsei knows that. To him, Kris's tone literally doesn't matter, because he doesn't believe it matters to us in that exact moment.

And here’s the thing: if not for Susie’s asides immediately contradicting him, we’d likely take what he says here as what’s actually going on. To Ralsei, the reality he and his friends experience is not important – it’s the image of that reality that he’s trying to convey to the player. It’s like he knows he’s part of a game, meant just for us to experience and enjoy, as opposed to a real world filled with real people having real experiences.

And the reason I brought this up is to illustrate what I believe Ralsei to actually be - namely, that he a walking, talking, singing and dancing amalgam of stock JRPG characters and tropes that's trying very hard to present as an actual person, to the point of knowing absolutely nothing about who he even is outside of that. Put in even blunter terms, he's literally a fluffy goat-shaped vehicle to set the player on their journey through the game, to keep them playing and to keep them invested. People looking for deeper aspects of his character come up short and are disappointed because they're looking for something that does not currently exist.

And just so that I'm clear, I do not mean that Ralsei is "acting", or that he's "wearing a mask", because that would imply that there was actually something underneath his "facade" to begin with. No, this is who the Prince of the Dark is - a very convincing fascimile of a person, following his directive to ensure that the story of Deltarune is resolved, and that the game of Deltarune is played to completion. And once you realise that, a lot of things that Ralsei says and does that seemed strange before suddenly make a lot more sense.

As for the why... well, that'll have to wait for another time. But hopefully you can begin to see how my future essays in this series all tie in to this one, because I think you can only really understand those with the framework that this text provides. I hope that my reasoning made sense and wasn't too difficult to follow, but I'll be happy to provide additional information, clarification, or even just discussion on any aspect of this essay... even if we just wind up (respectfully) agreeing to disagree. Would love to hear what people thought about this!

Thanks for reading!

#Writing #essay #analysis #theory #Deltarune #Ralsei #character study #The RalsAlmanac #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune chapter 2 #essay collection

32 notes · View notes

fuckalicent · 10 months

Text

the praise rhaenyra gets for being a “feminist queen” or someone who “cares about women unlike *insert character they don’t like*” is so unbelievably ridiculous it makes me laugh. so many team black stans love to paint alicent as a misogynistic demon who hates her daughter and will then use rhaenyra as the antithesis of this as if that woman didn’t deliberately undermine baela and rhaena’s own very much legitimate claims to driftmark to further her own agenda. she passes them off as contenders all for the sake of her sweet illegitimate son, whom she knows genuinely has no claim, and thinks all is well after proposing a lousy betrothal (which she makes BEFORE consulting either girls).

#hotd #hotd critical #hotd commentary #hotd community #hotd fandom #rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra stans #anti team black #rhaenyra the cruel #team black stans #anti team black stans #i actually would have no problem with this if the writers weren’t so inconsistent and incompetent #to have her be complex and cruel from the beginning would make this character-appropriate and although i’d still hate her for it #it would make sense #but they seem to be allergic to writing female characters with flaws which just ends up working against them #they were hellbent on portraying her in one certain way (an innocent victim of the patriarchy who can do no wrong) and it just…#destroyed it all tbh

158 notes · View notes

fisheito · 5 months

Text

re: pokemans

o wait holdd on dfrifrij

WISHIWASHI YAKUMO 🤣😭😭

nah but for real may i offer u some creatures that are just. assigned. i do not imagine them as anything else anymore

(girafarig yakumo, rockruff garu, hisuian zoroark kuya)

#i didn't want to take the easy way out and give yakumo a snake based pokemon.... but i mean... if the vibe fit i wouldn't complain #unfortunately. the vibe did NOT fit.#seviper? no. arbok? nope. serperior?? do i see ANY part of yakumo that acts as smug as snivy looks? Naaaaaahhhhhhhh #WELL!!! UNTIL THERE IS A MORE FITTING SNAKE POKEMON. girafarig.#cue me scrolling down the entire pokedex staring at the tiny sprites trying to get a read on who would fit which clan member #i ended up collecting a lot of POSSIBILITIES but after a while i wasn't sure if they were more suited to BEING the character...#vs being OWNED by the character #for example. with blade. i just started putting all the little weirdos under his jurisdiction. WAILORD. LUVDISC. ALOLA EXEGGUTOR. CHARJABUG #ok maybe blade wouldn't be inkay but tell me he wouldn't absolutely love it and call it cute #i even found new pokemon . unknown to me. . but they seemed cool? so why not put em on the list #i gotta say i'm a lil upsetti that i couldn't find an appropriate vessel for aster. the closest i could get was meowth/persian #and that just feels. cheap. pardon the wording #drawing these guys catapulted me back in time to when i was 4 years old #p sure pokemon was one of the first things that got me to draw?#wow and here we r today #may just. draw more pokemans later. kimda wanna see altaria rei #pokemon crossover #yakumo #garu #kuya

51 notes · View notes

thedreadvampy · 5 months

Text

The thing is I am definitely not happy or chill in the Immediate Sense lately but I am, big picture, so fucking happy with the person I am.

It's like. My brain was made by and for consistent trauma and since that trauma stopped about 5-7 years ago, it is incredible what the amount of resilience and cleverness and flexibility and thoughtfulness I developed to survive can do when it's not being all spent on surviving. like I had a hundred ton weight on me so I had to get REALLY STRONG to stay in the same place and not get 100% crushed, and when that weight came off I found I can use the strength it used to take to stand up and I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

I was talking to my mum the other day and she said, "you've got the 'fuck it' energy at 30 that most women don't find until their fifties at least" and I'm like yeah man. Imagine how unstoppable I'll be in 20 years.

#red said #i don't know that i can express this clearly but it's the most encouraging thing in my life #my mum's always been proud of me but just lately she seems to actually really admire me #like she's genuinely impressed. she thinks I've surpassed her. i don't necessarily agree but it's a really nice quiet joy.#anyway like this sounds super up myself and it kind of is.#but also it's part of realising just how heavy the weight I've been carrying around with me for 25 years was #like not to be ridiculous but i have realised again this week. that it isn't that everyone's been raped that much and doesn't talk about it #i just have been raped an Unusually Consistent Amount. i have spoken to a lot of people who have had much more horrifying things happen.#I'm not sure I've talked to more than a couple of people who've had a similar level of total consistency of abuse from all angles #and the one is not heavier or harder to bear that the other. but. i think i spent most of my life listening to people's awful experiences #and going ok well nothing i went through looked that bad so it's microtrauma #obviously microtraumas build up but still.#then the older i get and the more i have these conversations the more I notice that stuff which to me is a microtrauma #is a lot of people's defining trauma. and they're reacting appropriately which means i am SO SEVERELY UNDERREACTING #told my friend the other day about a time someone who i still like and respect was having sex with me when i paralocated my hip #and then just kept getting really annoyed with me for not being ready to have sex again while i was literally crying with pain #until i caved and just tried to find the last painful position #and my friend was like pal what the fuck that's horrific #and i was like i mean no that's normal I've had sex with like maybe 3 or 4 people in my life who i haven't had similar stuff with #like i am genuinely thrown when i am allowed to say no to sex and have it be the end of the conversation. and not end up having sex #out of guilt or out of physical coercion or through physical rape. and i have had sex with probably like 40 people at this stage?#and I'm not sure it's as many as 4 i haven't had that experience with tbh #so like. I'm slowly coming to terms with the idea #that i may have actually been doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting.#like i developed a sense of self that can survive being constantly crushed and at this stage is fucking diamond.

30 notes · View notes

inkdemonapologist · 2 years

Text

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Minecraft has a "final boss" of sorts, a dragon you can fight in an area known appropriately as "The End," and when you return home after that fight, before the credits, a long poem scrolls across the screen -- framed as a conversation overheard by the player between two beings who believe the player is hearing their thoughts, and perceiving them as text on a screen.

The End poem, and the strange way it talks about dreaming, waking up, the player, and the world behind the screen, was what opened Joey's eyes to the nature of their world as something made of code, a universe they were only seeing the very surface of. I really like the idea that if he shared the poem with Sammy, maybe Sammy would hear it differently -- hearing the music that plays with the End Poem instead, perceiving its message in the way he can best understand it.

#minecraft au #joey drew #sammy lawrence #when in doubt just keep drawing #minecraft #finally watched the whole end poem and just been having a lot of thoughts about it....#seems appropriate for it to be something everyone feels deeply but experiences differently #corrupted world minecraft au

383 notes · View notes

whumpacabra · 6 months

Text

Day 22 Alt. - Broken

Torture, burns (graphic), fire, broken ribs, broken glass mention, implied noncon (fade to black)

[Directly follows Chihuahua]

“Please!” The scream tore from his throat before he could stop it, terror crackling like lightning in his skin. His ears didn’t process what he had said until Smith was holding a fistful of his hair, waving the red hot iron too close to his already burned throat.

“What was that, hm?” His voice was thick with amusement, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. Wolf shivered, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t beg. He wasn’t broken - not yet, not yet -

His world flashed white with agony, the branding iron pressed against his bloodied cheek and rolled down his face and neck, bubbling skin sloughing away as his blood sizzled, burning black on the glowing metal. Wolf came back to himself slowly, the pleas on his lips interspersed with choked sobs that only made the burns stretch and warp over broken flesh.

“Please, please - please stop. I can’t - I - I - please. It hurts, please, I’m going to die I can’t - I - I - I can’t - “

“Shush, shushhh.” The branding iron clattered, set back in the glowing mouth of the furnace. “Shut up and maybe I’ll be gentler on the other side.”

That was different. Different was new and new was bad. Smith was supposed to ask him - name, who hired you, who do you work with - but all that came was a hand grabbing his burned face.

Wolf screamed, tears blurring his vision at the contact, singed nerve endings glowing with blinding pain. He flailed, trying to pull away, dislocated arms useless to pry the hand from his jaw as another closed around his throat, nails digging into the tender, exposed flesh.

“Please! Let - don’t touch me, please, I can’t - stop! Just stop, please!” He was nauseous, brain muddied by the agony but still aware of how deeply unpleasant it would be to retch while Smith was still holding him. (Smith would make him clean it up however he saw fit -)

“You want this to stop, little wolf?” His keening whimper was the only reply he could make, words dead on his tongue as Smith dug his nails deeper into the fresh burns. “What would you do to make it stop?”

The rational part of Wolf’s mind snapped back into place, pain distilling terror to understanding. Smith wanted to hear him say ‘anything.’ And, to his disgust and shame, he was ready to say just that.

But his moment of hesitance was too long.

Smith threw him to the ground, Wolf’s broken ribs scraped across already bloodied glass shards. The ringing in his ears almost drowned out the sound of metal scraping against metal. A flush of sickly warmth told him the furnace had opened again, the iron glowing as gold as Smith’s false tooth.

“Slow on the uptake, hm?” Wolf curled tighter into a ball, ignoring the glass shards digging into his side and legs. His whines were dissolving into sobs. “Quit your cryin’ you little bitch or I’ll…I’ll give you something to cry about.”

The sound of the branding iron being set down shouldn’t have made Wolf weep in relief, but he did so anyway. In his petrified fear of the fire, he forgot there were worse tortured than bloodied skin and broken bones.

A hand wrapped around his ankle, dragging him away from the broken glass and blood to a (so far) unsullied stretch of concrete.

“Ready for something to cry about, bitch?” Smith’s whisper growled too close to his ear, the man’s weight straddling his back and a hand digging nails into his burned shoulder pinning him down. The clatter and rustle of a discarded belt was drowned by his frenetic heartbeat and panicked sobs.

At least it wasn’t the fire.

[Directly before Phantom Hands]

(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)

#whump #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #alternate prompt #broken #oc #whump writing #captivity #torture #fire #burns #branding iron #implied noncon #fade to black #freelancers #was half tempted to continue writing this scene <- zero experience writing smut let alone nsfwhump #but I think ending it here works just as well. I don’t really like reading nsfwhump it just seems appropriate given this story and charactr #anyways remember when I said I’d decide how dark I’d let this get? yeah we’re there.#we'll be whumping Harrison again in a few days. gotta give poor wolf a break.

21 notes · View notes