#orders a single large sprite and leaves

[pagesoflauren]

Meet Cute: It's a Beautiful Night...

feat. Hayden "Harvard Hottie"

Summary: You and your friend from college made a simple pact. Now it's time to fulfill it.

Warnings: swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: I thought up this scenario randomly this week and couldn't stop thinking about it and here we are. Thanks @eightcevanscentral for beta'ing

“I know what you’re doing and you need to stop,” a familiar voice cuts through the drunken fog settling over your mind. 

“Hmm?” Your voice sounds echoey, resonating in your skull as you hum in response. 

“You’re eating with your eyes,” your best friend laughs. “I know you have drunchies but we can always order more food. Just start with one meal and we’ll go from there.” 

You smile, grateful that she’s taking care of you; it was your dirty 30, your birthday weekend in Vegas. You’ve been planning for months and were both elated and sad that it was here–because it was ending soon. Everyone was supposed to get absolutely shitfaced but your best friend was generous enough to self-designate as the person who would wrangle everyone and make sure your group was safe. 

To be fair, she wasn’t alone. Your other friends drank considerably less than you did. They were all aware of their surroundings while you were ogling at the menu of a McDonald’s, thinking you could totally eat forty chicken nuggets, large fries, a soda, and a McFlurry. Probably an apple pie too. 

“I’m getting you the ten-piece nugget meal and a Sprite,” one of your other friends says. 

You give her a dopey nod and she ushers you between two other friends that guide you to an empty table. 

Tapping your fingers on the surface, you try to match the rhythm of the song playing on the speakers above you when another voice speaks next to you. A man’s voice. 

Sirens go off as your friends tell him to leave you alone, but you know that voice. 

Looking up, you squeal and jump into the man’s arms.

“Hayden!”

“Hey, you little firecracker.” 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long!”

You turn to your friends excitedly, explaining how the two of you were good friends in college. Stuck in the same dorm with a crowd of idiots, you did more than tolerate each other’s existence. 

Hayden delves into a story about a biology class you were both in and you remember a conversation between the two of you one late night while studying for midterms. 

“You dating anyone?” he had asked.

“Pfft, no,” you scoffed. “Boys are dumb.”

“But I’m smart, right?” He threw you a wink. 

Your mind buffers for a moment, heart fluttering at the flirtatious gesture but you quickly snub him. “Your intelligence is tolerable.”

“Hey,” he laughs, throwing an eraser at your head.

“Ow!” You responded before tackling him. In a flurry of giggles and struggles, you straddled him and pinned his wrists down. “I win,” you said, satisfaction coating your face.

He huffed. “Fine.” 

You crawled off of him, resuming your position seated on your mattress and leaning against your dorm wall.

“Don’t you think it’s like…weird?”

“What?” you chuckled.

“That we’re just a flesh suit filled with hormones and that’s how we figure out who we’re going to end up with for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, when you put it that way, yeah, it’s weird,” you began. “But you know there’s more to it.” 

There was more to that conversation than you can remember at the moment, but you vividly recall how it ended.

“I think I’ll be single for the rest of my life,” you resigned.

“Well, maybe not.” Hayden poked your leg to get your attention and you cocked an eyebrow at him. “What if…if we’re still single and thirty, we’ll get married?”

“Hayden, I just told you there’s more than hormones–”

“Yeah, yeah but you know,” he shrugged. “I tolerate you.”

You didn’t miss the teasing lilt in his voice. “And I tolerate you.” 

“Then it’s settled!” He offered his hand for you to shake. “Single and thirty, we get married, and you and I will tolerate each other for the rest of our lives.”

Your friend calls your name and you snap out of your reverie, looking at her.

“Huh?”

“You never told us about Hayden,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you. 

“Oh, well, after graduation we just fell out of the loop with each other. What are you doing here?”

“Bachelor party,” Hayden points with his thumb over his shoulder to three men gathering food at the counter.

They come over, settling on the table next to the one your friends picked. Hayden introduces you and you try your best to remember everyone’s names. 

Settling back into your seat, you wait for your food to arrive and Hayden offers you some french fries. You adjust the sash around your shoulder, wanting to save it for the next birthday celebration in your friend group.

“‘Dirty 30,’” Hayden points out.

You hum and nod, taking a sip of his drink as he offers it to you.

“You still single?” he asks quietly, but it catches everyone’s attention. 

Your face heats up and you smile bashfully, nodding. “You?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs and returns your smile. 

You could’ve guessed what he'd say next, but you’re surprised nonetheless. 

“Let’s get married, then.” 

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity @lovemarvelousfics @rainbowkisses31 @richonne4life @damnndeanndamnn @meetmeatyourworst @tinyplanet-explorer @vivien-1211 @unknownmystery22 @nerdygirl8203 @xoxabs88xox @mariaenchanted @gotnofucks @denisemarieangelina @myoxisbroken @kelbabyblue @pspice639 @maynay43 @just-another-wretched-egg @jennmurawski13 @avantgardium-leviosa @random-butterfly @rachelderivia @kenzieam @bluemusickid @asiaaisa77 @angrybirdcr @inactivewhore @velvetcardiganbucky  @madbaddic7ed @mysweetlittledesire @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @buckymydarlingangel @mayasreadingnook 

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic @fizzahocleirigh @marantha @justile

#Harvard Hottie #Harvard Hottie fanfic #hayden harvard hottie #chris evans fanfiction #pol!Meet Cute #ficsofpagesoflauren #chris evans fluff

[acertainmoshke]

Worldbuilding Wednesday: Other Beings’ Gender Systems

I covered the Halaran humans’ genders here. Sex and gender are not the same, but since I figured I didn’t have to explain human sexual biology at all, there will be the basics of differing sexual biologies here.

Orcs

Orcs initially had no concept of gender. Sexually, two orcs are necessary for reproduction in order to mix genetic material, but they don’t have sexual dimorphism of any kind. But when they came in contact with humans (note: there are still isolated orcs who are very different from the ones living in Halara), they noticed that these humans put themselves in categories and they wanted to be categorized, too.

So they came up with and named arbitrary categories for almost everything you could think of: the length of their tusks, the season of their first hair growth, the year of their first growl, their preference of dusk meal, the shape of their claws. Every orc fits into dozens of different categories.

For a while, they used these categories mostly as get-to-know-you lists in introductions. But over time, they came to have more meaning, determining style of jewelry or hair and little social actions that could mean one way or another. No one but orcs could even keep up with all the categories, but they can recognize whether an orc is fast or nimble by the way they greet a host.

Luckily, these genders don’t in any way affect how orcs dress or how one is supposed to refer to them. Halarans only have the one pronoun but people with gendered languages tend to default to he because they’re large and hairy. It makes no difference to the orcs.

Slimes

Slimes are exactly what they sound like, amorphous colorful blobs. Sometimes it’s fashionable to be a certain shape, like a cube, but they don’t have any concept of gender. They don’t even have a sex to dimorph. You could argue orcs have a single sex, but slimes have none. They grow as buds in a symbiotic relationship to elms. The trees they originally grew on have long been extinct, but they can grow healthily on elms and help those beings with healing as they do so. They also have no concept of childhood—they become conscious around the time their buds detach, and they are adults then, although they will still physically grow some. They can tell individual humans apart but not categories of humans, not recognizing the signals that tell us which gender someone is presenting as.

Sprites

Sprites have a trinary reproductive system, requiring the involvement of 3 biological parents. However, they live in romantic groups (though more modern sprites have crafted platonic versions) of many more than that. Often children don’t know for certain who two of their parents are and it doesn’t matter as they’re raised by the whole group. Their gender system is based on that trinary, although they do have a concept of transness.

Elms

Elms, despite the name, are not literally trees. They’re much closer to literally trees than we are, but in the same way that dolphins are much closer to orcas than we are. In the same order perhaps but not sharing a taxonomic family. They are about 7-8 feet tall, much the same height as an orc. They come in various body shapes but have two arms and two legs like we do, only they have 14 fingers and 4 toes. Their skin can be a number of colors but is a rougher texture than human skin, ranging from sandpaper to actual bark. Their eyes are slitted like a goat’s and their hair is essentially long strings of leaves.

Their reproduction does look more like trees than animals but they found a workaround. Traditionally, one tree would make seeds and a tree of another sex would take some of its pollen secretion to pollinate the seeds, which act much like eggs after that. Any elm of any sex could do either of these, but for it to work the two involved had to be of different sexes. Some keep pollinators like bees to do it for them so they don’t need to rely on finding a partner.

Now, gender. Traditionally, it was binary based on the sex of the elm and matches were made between elms of opposed sexes. But long before their first close contact with Halarans, they decided that was too restrictive and now there are a number of gender options, including finding it perfectly normal to borrow presentation from another species. In fact, elms are probably the non-human being who most took to human culture as they all began to live closer together.

Dragons

Dragons do have a binary gender system roughly translatable to man and woman, but based off very different traits. I mean, they’re dragons. Traits most noticeable to us—scale color, wing shape and size, type of fire, number and shape of horns, etc—have absolutely nothing to do with their sex or gender. No one is quite sure how you’re supposed to tell them apart, so if you speak a language where you need to people will, in the abstract, generally just pick at random and, in the specific, wait for the dragon to give a hint. Although, if you’re in that situation you might have bigger problems to deal with.

Starfallen

The starfallen are essentially Fae. They can look like anything, including people, but there’s always a Wrongness about it. Who knows if they understand or care about gender? Do they even reproduce or are they immortal beings born of nightmares? If you run into one you’re probably about to die horribly or give up what’s most precious to you, so no one has ever bothered to ask. They certainly don’t fit into Halaran society, and they still instill terror in a way the other beings don’t.

A note on romance

It is far from the norm for a human to marry any other species—in Halara because marriages are generally arranged and in most other places because other beings are still stigmatized as monsters. The main exception to this are sprites, who look the most human other than being 2 feet tall with long ears and spindly fingers. Still, it is not unheard of for two young lovers who run off to be of differing species—usually humans with orcs or sprites, but there are known cases with elms and even dragons. There have been no known cases of romances with slimes.

Taglist: @blind-the-winds

#No known cases…yet? 👀 #moshke writes #writeblr #legends of halara

[hxroic-wxlls]

Marisa goes to McDonalds

“Yo, heading out to Miccie D’s! Anyone want anything?”

“Milkshake!”

“I’ll take one, too.”

“Double Quarter pounder, with a large side of fries and sprite!”

“Chicken nuggets with a sprite, large fries, and a vanilla cone!”

“Alright, got it written down! Be back in an hour!”

And with that, she flew off to McDonald’s.

...

Arriving at the entrance, the magician would pull out her mini purse, checking to see if she still had enough for all the orders... one, two, three...yep!

It looks like there was only one person in line, now. That was good! Now, once this old lady finished ordering, she could get on with her business!

“I’ll take uh...uh... Ummm...”

...

...

*30 minutes later*

“...Sh-she’s just been going ‘umm’ the entire time...” Staring at the line behind her, it would seem that everyone else was just as fed up with this old hag’s nonsense. Even the girl at the register seemed to have lost her smile, a bored expression replacing it as the old lady in the front of the line continued to ponder what to order.

...

*30 more minutes later*

Impatiently tapping her foot she finally had enough.

She’d walk over to tap the old lady on the shoulder. trying to convince to either make her order or leave.

“Hey, can you get a move on already?? It’s been an hour, and you haven’t even ordered a single-”

Marisa was promptly hit over the head by the old hag’s purse. 

*H-holy crap, that hurt! What does she carry in that thing? Bricks??* She would think to herself, gently rubbing the top of her head.

Before the witch could cast aside her morals and literally kick this old hag to the curb, the old lady revealed her ID... A queen??

“You interrupt my order again and I’ll have you in prison for all eternity, you little brat!”

“Tch...yes, ma'am...” She’d say, with as much spite as she could.

*8 hours later*

“Would killing this old piece of trash really be considered a crime?” It seems like the witch had reached the end of her patience, hands twitching with the violent urge to grab her Hakkero and turn this old bat to ashes.

Luckily, it seemed like a miracle occurred at last! Tossing her hands up in the air, as the old queen shouted that this place had ‘nothing worth eating’ she’d leave the the building, to drive away in her limousine. If this was the work of Sanae, in some way, she was going to give her the BIGGEST hug when she saw her, next time.

As soon as the lady was out of hearing distance, everyone in the building shouted ‘HOORAY!!* in celebration! It seems like everyone else was just as fed up with that hag’s nonsense as she was.

After FINALLY getting to make her order, the magician groggily flew back to the apartment. She had bags for her bags under her eyes, after the long and annoying experience. Jeez, it was like...three in the morning, now?

She opens the door. “I’m baaaaaack... Sorry for the long wait...” 

Once she took a good look inside, she could see that her friends were already eating a large pizza.

“You took too long, slow poke... We got Pizza Hut.”

“Zzzzzzz...”

“... I-I’m going to bed. I give up...”

She would promptly head back to her room, collapsing onto her bed.”

The angel promptly took his order from the bag to enjoy his nuggets and ice cream.

#{an ordinary magician: ic} #{Little maiden: ic} #{another one who came before: ic} #{blue blur: ic} #{skyworld warrior: ic} #{ drabble } #{crack} #bonus: How would your muse feel about having to wait 9 hours in a Mcdonald's line with this old lady?

[immortal-cataclysm]

yoiuve ehard o f angle cooke. get read yfor, frie sprite ckooie

FRIE SPRITE CKOOIE AO TRUE

#he has become a fry #orders a single large sprite and leaves #best post #wafflebot hangar #ask #fave

[littlefreya]

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:  

 Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.  🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls. 

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear. 

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’. 

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes. 

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare. 

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options. 

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake. 

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert. 

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.  

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup. 

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned. 

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity. 

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth. 

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?” 

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.” 

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake. 

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean. 

“Please stop…” 

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.  

“Then…?” 

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped. 

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date. 

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up. 

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf. 

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?” 

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!” 

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration. 

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction

[drownerbrains]

The Sorceresses go to McDonald's

what will they order??

Yennefer: she's craving those mcnuggies. 10 piece nuggets with hot mustard and an apple pie. she mixes together dr pepper and root beer for her drink. does Not order fries but does eat them; she's a serial fry stealer

Fringilla: double cheeseburger and medium fries. the McD's Standard. but! always with a large, bitingly crisp sprite. secretly loves shamrock shakes and always gets one when they're available. will NOT share her fries

Triss: also a mcnuggies girl. she gets a 6 piece tho, with honey for dipping. and actually orders her own fries! a large even though she would get a medium if she was alone, she knows how yen is. orange fanta to drink

Sabrina: deluxe crispy chicken, small fries, and a strawberry shake. dips her fries in her shake both to deter fry theft (yen thinks shake dipping is gross) and bc it's delicious. she won't demand a manager if the ice cream machine is broken but she will get huffy about it

Tissaia: big mac. large fries. large black coffee. the only one who can prevent fry theft with a single Look. (buuut if she does the drive-thru? yen gets the bagglers. shh)

Francesca: quarter pounder w cheese and a chocolate shake. doesn't like mcdonald's fries (she prefers wendy's). will just leave if the ice cream machine is broken. (you know what's never broken? the frosty machine. she's just saying!)

Ciri (listen she may not be sorceress but she's magic and yen's daughter so she's here): happy meal, burger version, and an oreo mcflurry. has her own fries And steals some extra. ice cream machine broken? she will simply steal even more fries

#the witcher netflix #this post was originally motivated by spite--adult women are allowed to have something besides a salad at fucking mcdonald's ok? #but ended up being super fun #also if you wish philippa was here then please add her order! #i haven't read the books and we were shown so little of her in s2 i don't feel like i know anything about her really! #i have played w3 and she wasn't there much either though she did seem v cool #excited to see more of her in later seasons

[sersi]

Your gifs are always so beautiful! And the quality is top notch as usual. I still don't understand if Sersi knew Ikaris was saying goodbye to her in that moment and that he was going to kill himself, or if he was just leaving her again? Her reaction seems so calm, she still loves him apparently yet she doesn't try to say something to stop him. He sure did horrible things, but Eternals were ready to forgive Sprite or, at least, they were sympathetic to her. Chloe was talking how no one is truly bad there and that she is partly team Ikaris... I don't know, but I don't get this scene. Only Sprite seemed upset, the rest didn't really care. I guess I just wanted more family feelings from them, even to Ikaris, they were together for so long after all.

Hi anon! My take on that scene (and to an extent the entirety of Ikaris and Sersi's interactions in the modern day) is actually quite specific and (I think) quite different than your own. To me, that scene is the final resolution of a century long break-up and, for Sersi, the moment she finally gets closure.

The lack of closure produced by Ikaris leaving Sersi without explanation or warning is a recurring force in the movie. The first real introduction to their relationship--Sersi’s conversation with Dane after the Deviant attack--gives the audience the basics: how long they were together, the fact that Ikaris left her, and, crucially, Sersi's declaration that "I moved on."

In a lot of ways, Sersi has moved on--she has made a life for herself, is in a new relationship, and seems open to the notion of being in love with Dane. Yet, she is clearly still haunted by this unanswered question of why Ikaris left. These emotions are likely brought even closer to the forefront by her first one on one interaction with Ikaris in the present (the scene in her apartment post-Deviant attack), where Ikaris apologizes for (but does not explain) that abandonment.

In the forest--after they've spent one, if not two (they had to get from London to South Dakota somehow and given that they are driving a car to Ajak's house, I suspect that Ikaris may not be capable of carrying two people and flying at the same time 😅) flights together and have gotten comfortable with each other again--Sersi directly asks Ikaris why he left. And once again, Sersi doesn't get her answer. (Before getting snatched up by that Deviant, Ikaris seemed potentially ready to give her more of an answer, but I don't think he was ready to fully tell her the truth).

And then, after the attack and Gilgamesh’s death, their focus is largely consumed by finding the remaining Eternals and (for Sersi) finding a way to stop or delay the emergence. Their next one on one scene is consumed by this: Ikaris tells Sersi that he’s in love with her (present tense!!!) but also, for the first time, makes the sheer depth of the ideological gulf between them clear. And then obviously the emergence starts, Ikaris reveals that he knew all along, and declares that he is willing to kill every single one of them in order to protect it.

That heel turn on the Domo gives Sersi most of the answers she’s been waiting a century for: Ikaris reveals that he has known since they left Babylon, that he never wanted her to know the truth of their mission, and, in his most emotionally revealing dialogue, the pain that knowledge of the emergence and his decision to keep it a secret from her caused him. (“I wanted you to leave this world in peace.”, “Ajak told me everything when we left Babylon.”, “Do you think it was easy to live with the truth? To know that one day all this would end? To keep on lying to you?”). Yet, in this same moment, Ikaris gives Sersi new reasons to doubt the truths of their past relationship: in addition to his declaration (backed up by his attack on Makkari) that he is willing to kill his fellow Eternals to protect the emergence, he also admits to killing to Ajak and largely brushes aside Sersi’s repeated statements about Ajak’s love for him.

Afterwards, Sersi is nearly paralyzed by grief, betrayal, and doubt. While she overcomes this and, over the course of the beach battle, finally settles into who she has become, rather than who she once was, she is still carrying the emotional wounds of believing (due to both words and actions) that the man she spent thousands of years with is willing to kill her in defense of a system she finds archaic and violent.

It is only when Ikaris confronts Sersi on the emerging Tiamut--a moment in which Sersi clearly assumes she will die--and he cannot bring himself to kill her that all the puzzle pieces really settle into place. Ikaris and Sersi have known each other for seven thousand years (that they can remember) and, with everything that has transpired and been revealed over the past few days, I think, for the first time in thousands of years, they both fully understand who the other is. When Ikaris says “I’m sorry” and Sersi responds “I know”, it, to me, is, much more than Chloé slipping in a Star Wars callback. To me, it’s all that really needed to be or could be said in that moment. 

Sersi isn’t sorry. She did what she thought was right and it’s far too soon for the mixed emotions that come into play in her exchange with Kingo at the end. Ikaris is sorry, but I don’t really think it’s just for killing Ajak or lying to Sersi or Gil’s death or trying to kill Druig or trying to kill Sersi. I think he’s also sorry for his inability to stop Sersi. Ikaris spent thousands of years loving her and their mission to serve Arishem, and while his love for Sersi ultimately won out, I don’t think that’s something he’s at peace with at all.

In this moment, Ikaris and Sersi are in dramatically different emotional places--Ikaris is in turmoil and Sersi, for the first time in a very long time, is at peace. And with the benefit of thousands of years together and a week in which every Eternal was forced to recognize the ways in which they had changed, I think Sersi knows that, in that moment, there is nothing she can do to fix or change or stop Ikaris. She can’t absolve him of what he did (and I wouldn’t assume that she would want to do that either). She can’t undo what she just did. And while there is love there, I think they both understand that they can never be exactly what they once were. So, Sersi simply watches Ikaris leave her, for a second time, because there is no action she can take that will change anything. And after having already lost, grieved, and moved on from Ikaris once before without any understanding of why, whatever she feels in that moment is, I think, less visceral because of it.

Now, as for everyone else, I think their reactions to Ikaris’ trip into the sun are shaped by two main factors: one, their pre-existing relationships with/feelings about Ikaris and two, Ikaris’ actions over the past week. Except for Sprite and Sersi, most of the Eternals on that beach have a at least marginally antagonistic relationship with Ikaris before any of the events of the third act. Druig’s interactions with Ikaris, both in the Aztec flashback scene and in the commune in the modern day, are openly hostile. Phastos, as evidenced by Ikaris’ saying Phastos has called him worse during the Superman exchange and Phasto’s entire speech/exchange with Ikaris on the beach, has some pre-existing and likely longstanding issues with him as well. We don’t get any flashbacks that really let us pinpoint when this all started, but between “I’ve been wanting to clip your wings for a long time” and “You always did underestimate her”, I lean towards thinking these issues were bubbling under the surface well before the Eternals all split up. Thena is harder to pin down, but her 🤔 expression during the Ikersi wedding reaction shot has always made me feel like she was at least a tiny bit mixed on Ikaris by that time. (Also the fact that Gil does not let Ikaris breathe for a SECOND in their modern-day interactions and, regardless of whether you read them as romantic or just besties, that is Thena’s partner). So, of the Eternals on that beach, the only one I don’t think had issues with Ikaris beforehand is Makkari.

And Makkari is definitely the biggest testament to the second thing shaping reactions to Ikaris’ death: all the shit he pulled over the last week. He admitted to killing Ajak, something that even Druig, who had plenty of issues with Ajak, is shown to be upset over. He was indirectly responsible for Gilgamesh’s death, something that Thena, while having reached her own moment of peace in the aftermath of killing Kro, would not have forgotten. And he attempted to kill Druig, which Makkari did not appreciate and tried to kill Ikaris over.

So, while I don’t think the Eternals were necessarily happy about what Ikaris did at the end, I do think that their emotions regarding his death were deeply complicated and that, with everything else that has happened, it was not really the predominate emotional force in that moment. They’ve just stopped the birth of a Celestial and saved the world, something they never thought they would or could do. They’ve lost, in the past week, multiple members of their team/family when no one had died in the previous seven thousand years. And they joined together, mentally, with each other and with Tiamut. There’s just so much to process and settle in that whatever they feel about Ikaris is, for the moment, not able to fully break through or take center stage. It would certainly have to at some point--this is someone they’ve known for thousands of years and someone that they’ve all had a range of experiences with--but I think it might take hours, if not days, for that to really happen. (And while I would love a full multi-week-long cut of Eternals, I get why that sort of “many hours later on the beach” or “everyone on the repaired Domo while we fly to North Dakota” moment is not going to make it into the script).

The Eternals shown to have the closest/most positive relationships with Ikaris are Sersi, Sprite, and Kingo. I’ve already talked about Sersi, but I would add that, alongside whatever grief she feels over Ikaris, there is also “I killed a Celestial”, so she too has a ton going on emotionally. Kingo, who was tremendously loyal to Ikaris and at least agreed with him on the subject of the emergence, isn’t there at all and when we next see him, it is weeks later, so probably past whatever initial grief he felt.

By the end, Sprite is the Eternal with the least complicated emotions regarding Ikaris. She loves him, she agreed with him about the emergence (albeit for reasons more tied to her frustration and dissatisfaction with her life on Earth than any sort of fundamental faith in Arishem and the Celestials), and, while not knowing of Ikaris and Sersi’s final exchange, likely shares the regret he expressed in that moment. So, while probably the least emotionally settled Eternal in that beach scene, her grief over Ikaris is, I think, much less complicated than everyone else’s and thus much more immediate and visible.

Families can be really complicated, and, in my opinion, the issue of forgiveness and the treatment of Sprite vs. Ikaris is wrapped up in that. Sprite was not necessarily beloved by all of her fellow Eternals, but, unlike Ikaris, it may be easier for the Eternals to have sympathy for her because of the increasingly obvious cruelty of how Arishem made her and because the scope of what she did was much smaller. She tried to kill Sersi, but one, didn’t succeed, and two, it was made clear that Sersi forgave her pretty much immediately after she appeared on that beach. (Obviously, Ikaris never showed up on that beach, so it can’t really be said how different the Eternals reaction would have been to him. I don’t really think it would have been positive simply because of the scope and recency of everything that’s he done. But I also think that you would have seen a much wider and more visible range of reactions from the Eternals had he returned).

So, I guess after far more words than you probably ever expected anon, I recognize your desire for more of an obvious or straightforward sense of family in the immediately post-emergence/beach scene parts of the movie and understand how, given Chloé’s comments on Ikaris, the reaction to Ikaris’ death could be unsatisfying. However, as I’ve tried to explain above, it works for me because the relationships and factors at play in those final parts of the movie leave the surviving Eternals with very complicated emotions regarding Ikaris. This is an experience that I think a lot of Eternals fans can relate to, but one where I think there is a crucial difference between us and the Eternals as characters. As viewers, we are purview to a lot of information the surviving Eternals don’t have. We get to see Ikaris after he kills Ajak. We get to rewatch the movie and start to notice all those moments where Ikaris is clearly tormented by what he has done and what he has committed to do. We get to see Ikaris realize that he simply cannot bring himself to kill Sersi. And, most crucially, for us, this is fiction--the emergence is a thought experiment, albeit a somewhat emotional one for anyone attached to MCU characters who live on Earth. So, while I get why Chloé finds her allegiances shifting day to day and why she hopes that viewers will find it to be a similarly complex situation, I don’t think that the Eternals, as characters, can be expected to share that same complexity of thought, especially in the immediate aftermath.

#elysia's inbox #sersi #ikaris #eternals #mcu meta #sorry for the novel but i have MANY thoughts about pretty much everything involving sersi 😭 #and yes this is very much a textbook media is deeply subjective post #because a LOT of my readings of this whole arc and the eternals family relationships and the beach scene #are shaped by my own experiences with death and extremely complicated family members

[oumakokichi]

What are the differences between the original and localization?

Hmm, that’s a very simple question with a pretty lengthy answer! I did answer some similar questions in the past, but that was a long time ago, much closer to when the localization was first released. There are probably a lot of people whose main experience with the game has only been with the localization, and who don’t really know or remember those differences anymore.

For that reason, I’m going to go into kind of a “masterlist” of things that were changed in the localization in this post. This will be very long, but I really want to explain the whole story behind the localization and its differences from the original to people who might only be hearing about this for the first time. I’m going to cover full spoilers for the game obviously, so be careful when reading!

Also, please feel free to share this post around, as I think it contains a lot of information that might be interesting to people who’ve only experienced the localization!

Before I really get into it though, I want to stipulate that the differences I’m covering in this post are mostly going to be things that I believe could’ve been handled or translated better, not every single line that was changed verbatim in the game. This is because a localization’s purpose is incredibly different from a literal translation.

Where a literal translation seeks to keep as much of the original authorial intent as possible and has the leeway to explain various Japanese terms and cultural specifics to the readers in footnotes or a glossary, a localization is usually much more targeted towards a specific target audience, usually one more unfamiliar with Japanese culture or terminology. As a result, some things in a localization are occasionally changed to make them more understandable to a western audience.

So, for example, I’m not going to fault the localization for changing Monosuke’s extremely heavy Kansai accent in Japanese to a New York accent in the English dub. It’s much easier for western players to immediately grasp that, “hey, this guy has a very specific regional accent that the other characters don’t,” and it works really well as a rough equivalent. Similarly, localization changes like changing a line here or there about the sport of sumo to be about the Jets and the Patriots also helps get the point across to players quickly and easily without having to explain an unfamiliar sport to western players in-depth before they can get the joke.

That being said… there were some liberties taken with ndrv3’s translation which I don’t believe fulfill the point of a localization, and which changed certain deliveries or even perceptions about the characters in a way that I just don’t agree with.

Let me explain first how the localization team actually worked, to people who might be unfamiliar with the process. Ndrv3 had four separate translators working on the localization. When NISA first announced that the game was being localized, these four translators introduced themselves on reddit in an AMA, where they also mentioned that they were by and large dividing up the 16 main characters between themselves, with each translator specifically assigned to four characters.

Having more translators working on a game might sound like a good idea in theory, but it’s often not. The more translators assigned to a game, the harder it is to provide a consistent translation. Translation is messy work: often there are multiple ways to translate the same sentence, or even the same word between two different languages. If a translation has multiple translators, that means they need to be communicating constantly with one another and referencing each other’s work all the time in order to avoid mistranslations: it’s difficult work, but not impossible.

However… this didn’t happen with ndrv3’s translation team. It’s pretty clear they did not reference each other’s work or communicate very well, and the translation suffers for it. I’m not just guessing here, either; it’s a fact that various parts of the game have lines completely ruined by not looking at the context, or words translated two different ways almost back-to-back. I’ll provide specific examples of this later.

Many of the translators also picked which characters they wanted to translate on the basis of which were their favorites—which, again, isn’t a bad thing in and of itself, but which does raise the risk of letting character bias influence your work. No work is inherently without bias; all translators have to look at their own biases and still attempt to translate fairly regardless. But because translators were assigned four characters each, this meant that while they might be really enthusiastic about translating for one character in particular, they were less enthusiastic for others. These biases do reflect in the work, and I will provide further examples as I make my list.

This system of delegation also leaves more questions than it answers. It becomes impossible to tell who translated certain parts of the game, particularly in areas where the narrator is unclear. For example, did Saihara’s translator translate Ouma’s motive video, as Saihara is the one watching it in chapter 6? Or did Ouma’s translator do it, since it’s his motive video? Who translated the parts we see at the beginning of certain chapters, where characters from the outside world make occasional comments? It’s really unclear, and I’m not even sure if the translators divvied up these parts amongst themselves or if only one person was supposed to handle them.

To put it simply, there were quite a lot of complications and worrying factors about the way the translation was divided by the team, and the communication (or lack thereof) between said translators. It’s impossible to really discuss the main problems that ndrv3’s localization has without making it clear why those problems happened, and I hope I’ve explained it well here.

With that out of the way, I’m finally going to cover the biggest differences between the original game and the localization, and why many of these changes were such a problem.

1.)    Gonta’s Entire Character

To this day, I still feel like this is probably the most egregious change of the entire localization. Gonta does not talk like a caveman in Japanese. He does not even have a particularly limited vocabularly. He talks like a fairly normal, very polite high school boy, and the only stipulation is that he’s not very familiar with electronics or technology due to his backstory of “growing up in the woods away from humans.”

Gonta does refer to himself in the third-person in Japanese, but I need to stress this: this is a perfectly normal thing to do in Japanese. Many people do it all the time, and it has no bearing on a person’s intelligence or ability to speak. In fact, both Tenko and Angie also refer to themselves in the third-person in the Japanese version of the game, yet mysteriously use first-person pronouns in the localization.

I wouldn’t be so opposed to this change if it weren’t for the fact that Gonta’s entire character arc revolves around being so much smarter than people (even himself!) give him credit for. He constantly downplays his own abilities and contributions to the group despite being fairly knowledgeable, not only about entomology but also about nature and astronomy. He has a fairly good understanding of spatial reasoning and is one of the first people to guess how Toujou’s trick with the rope and tire worked in chapter 2.

Chapter 4 of ndrv3 is so incredibly painful because it makes it clear that while Gonta was, absolutely, manipulated by Ouma into picking up the flashback light, he nonetheless made the decision to kill Miu of his own accord. He was even willing to try and kill everyone else by misleading them in the trial, because he thought it was more merciful than letting them see the outside world for themselves. These were choices that he made, confirmed when we see Gonta’s AI at the end of the trial speak for himself and acknowledge that yes, he really did think the outside world was worth killing people over.

Gonta is supposed to be somewhat naïve and trusting, not stupid. He believes himself to be an idiot, and other characters often talk down to him or don’t take him seriously, but at the end of the day he’s a human being just like the rest of them, and far, far smarter and more capable of making his own decisions than anyone thought him capable of.

Translating all of his speech to “caveman” or “Tarzan speech” really downplays his ability to make decisions for himself, and I think it’s a big part of why I’ve seen considerably more western fans insist that he didn’t know what he was doing than Japanese fans. I love Gonta quite a lot, but I can’t get over the localization essentially changing his character to make him seem more stupid, instead of translating what was actually there in order to more accurately reflect his character.

2.)    Added Some Slurs, Removed Others

It’s time to address the elephant in the room for people who don’t know: Momota is considerably homophobic and transphobic in the original Japanese version of the game. In chapter 2, he uses the word “okama” to refer to Korekiyo in an extremely derogatory fashion. This word has a history of both homophobic and transphobic sentiment in Japan, as it’s often used against flamboyant gay men and trans women, who are sadly and unfortunately conflated as being “the same thing” most of the time. To put it simply, the word has the equivalent of the weight of the t-slur and the f-slur in English rolled into one.

This isn’t the only instance of Momota being homophobic, sadly. In the salmon mode version of the game, should you choose the “let’s undress” option in the gym while with Momota, he has yet another line where he says, “You don’t swing that way, do you!?” to Saihara, using his most terrified and disgusted-looking sprite. This suggests to me that, yes, the homophobia was a deliberate choice in the Japanese version of the game, as Momota consistently reacts this way to even the idea of another guy showing romantic interest in him.

The English version more or less kept the salmon mode comment, but removed the use of the slur in chapter 2 entirely. Which I have… mixed feelings about. On the one hand, I am an LGBT person myself. I don’t want to read slurs if I can help it. On the other hand, I really don’t think the slur was removed out of consideration to the LGBT community so much as Momota’s translator really wanted to downplay any lines that could make his character come across in a more negative light.

This is backed up by the fact that both Miu and Ouma’s translators added slurs to the game that weren’t present in the original Japanese. Where Miu only ever refers to Gonta as “baka” (idiot) or occasionally, “ahou” (a slightly ruder word that still more or less equates to “moron”), her translator decided to add multiple instances of her using the r-slur to refer to Gonta specifically, and on one occasion, even the word “Mongoloid,” a deeply offensive and outdated term. Ouma’s translator similarly took lines where he was already speaking harshly of Miu and added multiple instances of words like “bitch” or “whore.”

To me, this suggests that the translators were completely free to choose how harsh or how likable they wanted their characters to come across. Momota’s translator omitting just the slur could maybe pass for a nice gesture, so people don’t have to read it and be uncomfortable—except, that’s not the only thing that was omitted. Instances of Momota being blatantly misogynistic or rude were also toned down to the point of covering up most of his flaws entirely. His use of “memeshii” against Hoshi (a word which means “cowardly” in Japanese with specifically feminine connotations, like the word “sissy” in English) is simply changed to “weak,” and when he calls Saihara’s trauma “kudaranai” (literally “worthless” or “bullshit”), this is changed to “trivial” in the localization.

Momota’s translator even went so far as to omit a line entirely from the chapter 2 trial, which I touched on in an earlier post. In the original version of the game, Ouma asks Momota dumbfounded if he’s really stupid enough to trust Maki without any proof and if he plans on risking everyone else’s lives in the trial if he turns out to be wrong. And Momota replies saying yes, absolutely, he’s totally willing to bet everyone’s lives on nothing more than a hunch because he thinks he’s going to be right no matter what.

This is a character flaw. It’s a huge, running theme with Momota’s character, and it’s brought up again in chapter 4 deliberately when Momota really does almost kill everyone in the trial because he refuses to believe that Ouma isn’t the culprit. But the localization simply omits it, leaving Momota to seem considerably less hard-headed and reckless in the English version of the game. If anyone wants proof that this line exists, it is still very much there in the Japanese dialogue, but it has no translation whatsoever. This goes beyond “translation decisions I don’t agree with”; omitting an entire line for a character simply because you want other people to like them more is just bad translation, period.

3.)    Angie’s Religion

In the original Japanese version of the game, neither Angie’s god nor her religion have any specific names. She refers to her god simply as “god” in the general sense, and clearly changes aspects of their persona and appearance based on who she’s trying to convince to join her cult. Everything about her is pretty clearly fictionalized, from her island to the religious practices her cult does.

Kodaka’s writing with regard to Angie is already a huge mess. It feeds into a lot of harmful stereotypes about “crazy, exotic brown women” and “bloodthirsty savages,” but at the very least it never correlated with a specific religion or location in the original version of the game.

This all changed when Angie’s translator, for whatever reason, decided to make Angie be Polynesian specifically and appropriate from the real religion of real indigenous peoples native to Polynesia. That’s right: Atua is a real god that has very real significance to tons of indigenous peoples.

In my opinion, this decision was incredibly disrespectful. It spreads incredible misinformation about a god that is still very much a part of tons of real-life people’s religion, and associates it with cults? Blood rituals? Human sacrifices? It’s a terrible localization decision that wasn’t necessary whatsoever and to be quite frank, it’s racist and insensitive.

As I said, the original game never exactly had the peak of “good writing decisions” when it came to Angie; there are still harmful stereotypes with her character, and she deserved to be written so much better. But associating her with a real group of indigenous people and equating a real god to some fictional deity that’s mostly treated as either a scary cult-ish boogeyman or the punchline to a joke is just… bad.

4.)    Ouma’s Motive Video

Some of the decisions taken with Ouma’s translation are… interesting, to say the least. In many ways, he feels like a completely different character between the two versions of the game. This is due not only to the translation, but also the voice direction and casting.

A lot of his lines are tweaked or changed entirely to make his character seem much louder, less serious, and less sincere than the original version of the game. Obviously, Ouma lies, a lot. That’s sort of the whole point of is character. But what I mean is that even lines in the original version of the game, where it was clear he was being truthful via softer delivery, trailing off the end of his sentences, and seeming overall hesitant about whether to divulge certain information or not are literally changed in the localization to him pretty much yelling at the top of his lungs, complete with tons of exclamation points on lines that originally ended with a question mark or ellipses.

Tonally, he just feels very different as a character. The “sowwy” speak, lines like “oopsie poopsie, I’m such a ditz!”—all of these things are taken to such ridiculous extremes that it feels a little hard to take him seriously. Even in the post-trial for chapter 4 when Ouma starts playing the villain after Gonta’s death, a moment which should have been completely serious and intense, the mood is kind of completely killed when the line is changed from him calling everyone a bunch of idiots to him calling everyone…. “stupidheads.” These changes don’t really seem thematically appropriate to me, but overall, they’re not damning.

What is damning, however, is the fact that Ouma’s motive video is completely mistranslated and provides a very poor picture of what his motivations and ideals were like. I still remember being shocked when I played the localization for the first time and discovered that they completely omitted a line stating that Ouma and DICE have a very specific taboo against murder.

Literally, this is one of the very first lines in the entire video. The Japanese version of the game makes it explicitly clear that DICE were forbidden to kill people, and that abiding by this rule was extremely important to them. By contrast, the localization simply makes a nod about him doing “petty nonviolent crimes and pranks,” without ever once mentioning anything at all about rules or taboos.

This feels especially egregious in the localization considering Saihara later uses Ouma’s motive video as evidence in the chapter 6 trial and states there that Ouma and DICE “had a rule against killing people,” despite the game… never actually telling you that. It not only skews the perception of Ouma’s character at a crucial moment, it also just straight-up lies to localization players and expects them to make leaps in logic without actually providing the facts. So it winds up sort of feeling like Saihara is just pulling these assumptions out of his ass more than anything else.

I actually still have my original translation of Ouma’s motive video here, if anyone would like to compare. Again, translation is a tricky line of work, and obviously not all translators are going to agree with one another. But I consider omitting lines entirely to be one of the worst things you can do in a translation, particularly in a mystery game where people are expected to solve said mysteries based on the information and facts provided to them.

5.)    Inconsistencies and Lack of Context

As I mentioned earlier, there are many instances of lines being completely mistranslated, or translated two different ways by multiple translators, or addressed to the wrong character. This is, as I stated, due to the way the translation work was divided by four separate people who appear to have not communicated with each other or cross-referenced each other’s work.

One of the clearest examples of this that I can think of off the top of my head is in chapter 3, where Ouma mentions “doing a little research” on the Caged Child ritual, and Maki in the very next line repeats him by saying… “study?”

On their own, removed from any context, these would both potentially be correct translations. However, it’s very clear that the translators just didn’t care to look at the context, or communicate with each other and share their work. The fact that characters aren’t even quoting each other properly in lines that are back-to-back is a pretty big oversight, and something that should have been accounted for knowing that four separate people were going to be translating various different characters.

This lack of context causes other, even more hilarious and blatantly wrong mistranslations. At the start of the chapter 3 trial, there is a line where Momota mentions that he couldn’t perform a thorough investigation on his own “because Monokuma disrupted him.” In the original, Ouma responds and tells Momota that he’s just using Monokuma as an excuse to cover for his own flaws. However, what we actually got in the localization was… this.

I don’t even have words for how badly this line was butchered (though I could make several hilarious jokes about Monokuma “over-compensating”). Presumably, this happened because Ouma’s translator saw Ouma’s line without any of the lines before it or the context of what Momota was saying, had no clue who Ouma was actually supposed to be talking to, and just ad-libbed it however they could, even though it literally makes no sense and doesn’t even fit into the conversation.

There are other similar instances of this, too. For example, did you know that the scene after Saihara faints in chapter 2, just before he wakes up in Gonta’s lab, is actually supposed to have Ouma talking to him? The narrator is unnamed, but there are several lines just before Saihara wakes up where Ouma tells him “come on, you can’t die on me yet!” and keeps prodding him and poking him to wake up. This is never explicitly told to you from the text… but it becomes pretty obvious when you look at the context and see that a huge CG of Ouma looking over Saihara as he starts to wake up is the very next part of the scene.

In the localization, however, Saihara’s translator pretty clearly had no idea what was happening or who was supposed to be talking to him, because they translated those lines as Saihara talking to himself, even though the manner of speech and phrasing is clearly supposed to be Ouma instead.

I could go on and on listing other examples: Tsumugi makes a joke in the original about Miu being able to dish out dirty jokes but not being very good at hearing them herself, but it’s changed in the localization to Tsumugi saying “I’m not so good with that kind of stuff,” and a line where Momota protests against Maki choking Ouma because she’ll kill him if she keeps going is instead changed to him saying “you’ll get killed if you don’t stop!” In my opinion, the fact that this is a consistent problem throughout the whole game shows that the translators weren’t really communicating or working together at any point, and that it wasn’t simply a one-time mistake here or there.

6.)    Edited CGs and Plot Points

I have made an entirely separate post about this in the past, but at this point I don’t think anyone actually knows anymore: the localization actually edited in-game CGs and made some of them completely different from the Japanese version of the game. I’m not accusing them of “censorship” or anything like that, I mean quite literally that they altered and edited specific CGs to try and fix certain problems with them and only ended up making them worse in the process.

In chapter 5, Momota gets shot in the arm by Maki’s crossbow when trying to defend Ouma, and Ouma gets shot in the back shortly afterward when attempting to make a run for the Exisals. These injuries are relevant to how they died, but they’re not actually very visible in the CGs of Ouma and Momota shown later in the chapter 5 trial.

There are a whole bunch of inconsistencies with the CGs in chapter 5 in general: Momota gives Ouma his jacket to lie on under the press, but is magically still wearing it when he emerges from the Exisal himself at the end of the trial (I like to think he snuck back into the dorms Solid Snake style to get a new one from his room before joining the trial), the cap to the antidote is still on the bottle when Ouma pretends to drink it in front of Maki and Momota, etc. None of these things really deter from the plot though, and so I would say they’re fairly unimportant.

However, for some reason, NISA decided that “fixing” at least some of the CGs in the chapter 5 trial was necessary. They did this by adding bloodstains to Momota’s arm while he’s under the press, to better show his injury from the crossbow…. and in doing so, for some completely inexplicable reason, they changed the entire position of his arm. Here’s what I mean for comparison:

This is how Momota’s arm looked in the original CG from chapter 5, shown when the camcorder is provided as evidence that it’s “Ouma” under the press.

And this is how the localization edited it to look. I can understand and even sympathize with adding the bloodstains, but… changing the entire arm itself? Moving it to be sticking out from under the press? To put it nicely, this change doesn’t make any sense and actually makes it harder to understand Ouma and Momota’s plan.

The whole trick behind their plan was that nothing was supposed to stick out from under the press, other than Momota’s jacket. They waited until the instant when the press completely covered every part of Momota’s body, arms and all, and then performed the switch to mislead people. But the edited version of the CG in the localization just has Momota’s arm sticking completely out, hanging over the side, meaning it would’ve been impossible for the press to hide every part of it and the whole switch feels… well, stupid and impossibly easy to see through in the localized version.

Again, this shows a total disregard for presenting the facts as they actually appear and actually makes things more difficult for English players of the game, because they’re not being given accurate information. I really don’t understand why these changes were necessary, or why the bloodstains couldn’t have just been added without moving Momota’s entire arm.

7.)    In Conclusion

This has gotten extremely long (nearly 10 pages), so I want to wrap things up. I want to specify that my intention with this masterlist isn’t to insult or badmouth the translators who worked on this game. I’m sure they worked very hard, and I have no idea what time or budget constraints they were facing as they did so.

Being a translator is not easy, and typically translators are not very well-paid or recognized for their work. I have the utmost respect for other translators, and I know perfectly well just how difficult and taxing it can be.

I am making this list because these are simply changes which were very different from the original version of the game, and which I believe could have been handled better. Personally, I disagree with many of the choices the localization made, but that does not mean that they didn’t do a fantastic job in other places. I absolutely love whichever translator was responsible for coming up with catchphrases and nicknames throughout the game: little localization decisions like “cospox,” “flashback light,” “Insect Meet n’ Greet,” and “cosplaycat criminal” were all strokes of genius that I highly admire.

I only want to stress that the Japanese version of the game is very different. Making changes to the way a character is presented or portrayed means influencing how people are going to react to said character. Skewing the information and facts presented in trials in the game means changing people’s experience of the game, and giving them less facts to go off of. Equating fictional gods to real-life ones can cause real harm and influence perception of real indigenous peoples. These are all facts that need to be accounted for before deciding whether a certain change is necessary or not, in my opinion.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! Again, feel free to share this post around if you’d like, since this is probably the most comprehensively I’ve ever covered this topic.

#danganronpa #new danganronpa v3 #dangan ronpa #ndrv3 spoilers // #ask #anonymous #this isn't meta but it's IS a comprehensive masterlist of translation comparisons #so i think it's okay to post in the tag #okay to reblog

[cathoderaysunshinebeaver]

Heretic/Hexen

I love Doom. I’ve never made an attempt to list my favorite video games in a numerical order, but if I did, Doom would likely be one of the highest, if not #1. I’m also a big fan of the “dark fantasy” aesthetic, so discovering the Heretic/Hexen series was a treat, to say the least.

Released in 1994, Heretic was built using the Doom engine by Raven Software, with John Romero himself having helped the team set up their computers and teaching them the basics of how he would make maps for the game. With this in mind, you’d be forgiven for saying what a lot of reviewers said at the time: this game looks like a Doom reskin with a fantasy theme.

This sentiment mostly applies to the first game, Heretic. But in a sea of other “Doom clones” released at the time, it is definitely one of the more competent ones. You play as Corvus, one of the few surviving elves in a world overtaken by the evil Serpent Riders, who have decided to exterminate all the elves because their magical powers make them resistant to the mind control spells the Serpent Riders use to conquer and subjugate realm after realm on their quest for world domination. Unsurprisingly, Corvus is out for revenge, and the end goal of the game is to hunt down and kill the first of the three Serpent Riders, D’Sparil.

The gameplay in Heretic is more similar to Doom than in the later games, but it does the Doom formula well. Most weapons have a distinct counterpart in the game it is based on: the Elven Wand is your pistol, the Dragon Claw is your chaingun, the Ethereal Crossbow is your shotgun, and so on. They are satisfying to use (save the wand, arguably), and look deliciously fantasy-eque, with beautiful spritework. The levels are split into a familiar structure, featuring three episodes with nine levels each (and two more episodes released as an expansion pack). The enemies are varied, with pretty animations and distinct sounds, and play into the Doom experience very well in that the combinations and locations of enemies in each area lends itself to very different strategies (although “run really fast and blast everyone with the crossbow” rarely fails on most difficulties). The two expansion episodes are considerably more challenging, and will require more quick thinking and ammo, sorry, mana conservation. Definitely a fun romp.

The sequel, Hexen, is where the series starts finding it’s own unique twist on the genre, and is the by many regarded as the “classic” that really put the franchise on the map. Again, you’re playing as a vindictive hero on a quest to liberate their realm from the Serpent Riders. This time it’s Korax, the second out of the three. However, now you’ve got to pick a class. This is the first big difference you’ll notice when starting the game. Corvus is MIA from his last adventure, and instead your choice of protagonist is between Baratus the Fighter, Parias the Cleric, and Daedolon the mage. While the game isn’t an RPG, these characters all have different stats when it comes to running speed and base HP. More importantly, they each have access to their own unique set of weapons. Mana is shared between the weapons, which are now split into green, blue and dual mana types, but they all behave very differently. For example, the fighter’s weapons are mostly of the melee variety and consume mana rapidly only for special attack modes, as they can still be swung without mana. The mage on the other hand uses his bare hands to cast a lot of his spells, but they do not burn through mana nearly as quickly. Unsurprisingly, the cleric is a hybrid, and uses both a spiked club and a mix of magical weapons. An “ultimate” weapon is also available to each class, which must be assembled from parts and consumes both blue and green mana, but has really devastating attacks (the cleric’s “Wraithverge” summons ghosts that scream like banshees and tear every nearby enemy to shreds; it’s just as metal as it sounds)!

Beyond the class differences, the level structure is the other major difference between Heretic and Hexen. Instead of a linear series of levels, each episode is now defined by a hub level with many branching areas that can usually be visited in any order. You need to find key items and activate switches in each one to open the way to the next world, and many areas within each sub-level are also locked until you find the right key/switch in a completely different area. As would be expected, this new spin on the level progression comes with both pros and cons. Few players today will be able to complete the game without ever looking at a walkthrough, and based on some comments I’ve read, this is one of those games that many people in the 90s would only dream of beating on their own. That said, there are very few instances where pulling a switch won’t at the very least give you a short message indicating it’s purpose (i.e. “A door has opened in the Wastelands”), and even then those with enough patience will rarely feel completely lost if they’re willing to backtrack systematically through every area over and over, taking note of every single locked door and unreachable area. I doubt it’s something the majority of gamers enjoy doing, but if you’re the type who would rather give up before accepting a hint, I’m happy to report that this game IS beatable even with your play style.

On the other hand, this structure also adds a lot to the feeling of being on a dangerous, epic quest. Metroidvania fans know that there are few things as satisfying as picking up a key and thinking “hey, I recognize this symbol! Now I can finally see what’s behind that door in the swamp!”. Uncovering the world bit by bit in this fashion really lends an air of mystery to the land of Cronos (where Hexen is set), and truly gives you that classic feeling of “pride and accomplishment” when you’re finally able to descend into that forbidding temple that’s been looming on the horizon for so long. And for those of you who are worried you won’t get to blast enough monsters to get your fill, this game still has you covered.

The enemies in Hexen are just as threatening as those in Heretic, and they look even better this time (seriously, if you enjoyed the visual aspect of Heretic, Hexen steps it up tenfold with truly gorgeous sprites, textures, animations and even some environmental visual effects, like thick mist and dead leaves blowing in the wind). You’ve got a fantastic cast of evil wizards, zombies, dog-like orcs, Minotaurs and more types of dragons and dragon hybrids than you could shake a Mace of Contrition at. A good amount of the baddies are initially very similar to those in Heretic, but their attacks are more distinct, varied and dangerous, and there are a whole lot more of these guys this time around. If you have the enemy counter turned on in your automap it won’t be uncommon to see the numbers exceed 400, and some of the weaker enemies will even respawn after a while. Don’t worry though, it’s not frequent enough to be stressful, but instead it really helps the backtracking from getting too tedious. Key hunting is a lot more intense when you never know if an Ettin is waiting around the corner to cave your skull in! However, if you’ve seen any other reviews of this game, you’ve heard a lot of grief expressed in regards to the Minotaurs (and their big brothers, the Maulotaurs). They aren’t the strongest foe in the game, but their shields, their surprise lighting bolts and their sheer numbers can definitely be a pain in the gluteus maximus. On the plus side, it makes killing them all the more satisfying, and you’ll find yourself experimenting quite a bit with your weapons and items to figure out the safest and quickest way to end their existence.

That’s right, I forgot to mention the items. The third and last major difference between Doom and these games is your inventory. The items are largely the same in all the games in the series, and using them can be a bit of a hassle unless you’re willing to fiddle around with your control settings to find a setup you prefer (I would usually bind the item selection keys to the scroll wheel and use them with the right mouse button). Visually, the inventory is similar to that seen in Duke Nukem 3D, and just like in that game, you’ll likely find yourself using some items a lot more frequently than others. Health and mana refills are a major aid, and beyond that you have things such as invisibility, invincibility, flechettes (despite what the name says, they’re more like grenades or mines, depending on your class), and a magical book that gives your weapons a much more powerful firing mode for a short time (although this item is mysteriously absent in Hexen). A special mention also goes to the Morph Ovum/Porkelator/Seal of the Ovinomancer, which transforms an enemy into a chicken/pig/sheep, respectively. A lot of fun to use, and and immense help against some stronger enemies if you’re low on health and/or mana.

If you didn’t find yourself using these items all too much in Heretic or Hexen, the following game might just give you a reason to. Hexen II is the third game in the series, and the final chapter in the Serpent Riders saga. This time you’re in the realm of Thyrion, and the last Serpent Rider, Eidolon, is the one who must be slain to free the land from his curse. In terms of gameplay, Hexen II is a lot more similar to Hexen than Hexen was to Heretic. You’ve got the same type of hub level structure, and you’ll again pick a class at the start, although now your choice has expanded, consisting of the Crusader, Paladin, Necromancer and Assassin, as well as the Demoness in the expansion (yes, all these games have expansion packs and they’re all worth playing in that they’re more of the same, but expanded, duh, and more polished).

The major difference this time around is one you can probably tell immediately from the screenshot: yes, Hexen II goes 3D (and in an exception to the common rule at the time, it is NOT titled “Hexen 3D” despite technically being the third installment). Specifically, the game uses a modified Quake engine. As mentioned, the core gameplay remains largely the same as in Hexen, but the level designers definitely did not waste that extra dimension. The levels are less expansive here, but a lot more complex and full of hidden passages, surprising loops and a whole lot of verticality. Scurring across a courtyard with archers raining arrows down on you from balconies is just as tense as it is satisfying later on to reach the same balcony and return the favor to any ghoul unlucky enough to find themselves below. Overall, the layout and progression in each area feels like it’s been given a lot more consideration and has endured more testing. Most of the time, the key hunting in each area feels more self-contained, and when it isn’t you rarely feel like you have no idea where to go. This is because every lock has been designed to feel more like a puzzle. In practice, your goal is still to find an item and bring it somewhere, but the locks and keys themselves are much more distinct, which helps you remember what to do and where to go. Instead of levers and typical keys, you find yourself looking for artefacts such as potion ingredients that will let you turn metal into wood, pieces of a broken mechanism or symbolic relics that must be placed in the hands of a statue to go in line with a prophecy. There are also more direct instructions in the form of book entries and inscribed stone tablets, which are very helpful in those cases where the puzzle might require a bit more than just item hunting, such as pulling switches in a certain order or lining objects up to create a pattern. It’s still unlikely that you’ll breeze through the whole game without getting confused, but you’ll rarely be at a complete loss; you’ll usually know what you’re looking for or what you’re trying to activate, even if you may need a walkthrough to find a specific hidden passage or to figure out exactly what a contraption does.

Overall, Hexen II feels like a refined Hexen, with more care put into making every area feel very distinct. It is absolutely not any less challenging though. The areas might be smaller in terms of actual units of measurement, and there are definitely fewer enemies on the screen at all times, but this is compensated for in spades. The third dimension adds a thick layer of complexity to every level, and the enemies hit HARD. If you got into a rhythm in Hexen of circle strafing, dodging and picking off targets in an order of perceived priority, you’ll have to learn to dance to a different tune here. Some enemies will close in on you incredibly quickly, and many of them have the ability to turn you into minced meat in a matter of seconds. Now more than ever is when you’ll want to shoot with a steady aim, use your items wisely, keep all the possible paths of retreat in your mental map, and scour every nook and cranny for health and mana to stand a chance against some of the stronger mooks. Hexen II as a whole is a lot more fast paced and tense and also has a more dramatic views and set pieces along with some extra bits of storytelling scattered around the world for those interested.

So, what are my thoughts on the Heretic/Hexen series as a whole? In short, it’s a treat. Combining classic fantasy tropes with the hectic action of Doom (and Quake) was an idea that was bound to happen sooner or later, and in this case, it worked out really well. There are of course other examples of this iconic clash of genres (check out Amid Evil for a totally kick-ass recent example!), but from what I know, the Serpent Riders saga is the one with the most lasting appeal. All the games strike a great balance between frantic, gory FPS action and the slower paced mystery and brooding sense of evil that only dark castles and dungeons can provide, with each game leaning a bit more toward one direction or the other. At a core gameplay level, there is nothing absolutely groundbreaking about Heretic/Hexen, but every element is done well and with care, and the presentation oozes of 20th century gothic fantasy charm, both the visuals and music. If the first paragraph of this review made you go “oh, those are both things I like!” then definitely check these games out. Same goes for anyone who is simply curious about the history of Id software and the impact Doom and Quake had on the gaming landscape. My only warning to you before playing these games is this: keep in mind that these games are from the 90s. There’s a reason many people have memories of booting these games up, getting completely stuck and then never playing them again. That said, as long as you have an internet connection (how else would you be reading this?) and an average amount of patience, there’s a whole lot of fun to be had here. All the games mentioned above are available on Steam (and GoG as well, I believe), and play excellently with modern source ports: gzdoom for Heretic and Hexen, and Hammer of Thyrion for Hexen II are my recommendations.

Finally, there is another game in the franchise. Heretic II returns to the story of Corvus (from the first game) and continues the story beyond the Serpent Riders arc, but due to some licensing issues it is not available on neither Steam nor GoG. Technically you could still buy a physical copy of the game, and I’ve seen mentions of at least one fan endeavor to make the game more accessible on modern computers, but I have yet to check it out. Maybe in the future. For now, I hope you enjoyed this dive into one of the slightly less famous, but still very popular classic 90s “Doom clones”!

#doom #id software #heretic #hexen #raven software #hexen ii #quake #90s #gaming #boomer shooter

[loveofafangirl]

A Chance Encounter

[Steve Rogers Masterlist]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Background: Following the events of Endgame, Steve Rogers returned to the future and gives up the mantle of Captain America. Steve moves to a secluded area in the mountains of Upstate New York, near enough the Avengers facility to lend an ear to his friends, but far enough that he had peace, or what passed for peace for him these days. He spends most of his time outside trying to keep his mind active and away from the haunting memories of his past.

Synopsis: One day, while out for a run, Steve runs further than he realizes and makes the unexpected acquaintance of a local school teacher. (Part 1)

Word Count: <1,300

Author’s Note: This only my second attempt at Steve or Marvel. The first was “To Be Held”. That one was written in second person, this one is written in the third person. Since this is new to me, I am seeing what I like best. The reader in that story is the same as the original female character in this story. “To Be Held” is later chronologically. 

Please let me know if you like it and/or if you want to be tagged in any future Steve work I try. No beta. I like to live dangerously.

The thinning leaves on the trees were not more than a mosaic blur of warm colors. His feet pounded against the soft earth as he raced through the forest, kicking up loose bits of dirt. He focused solely on what was up ahead. With every step, he tried to solidify the wall he was building up, not to keep the world out but to protect him from himself.

He had thought returning to the future would save him from the visions that had kept him up at night in the past. He was plagued by the future he knew was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. They would win in the end, but so much would be lost along the way. The cost of it all was higher than he imagined. He had been willing to die; but, he didn't. They did. He convinced them to help, to try to save the world; and it cost them their lives. They knew the risk, and they followed all the same. Soldiers die, he would remind himself to no avail. However, as far as he was concerned, he let them die on his watch. He should have found another way.

Faster, and faster he ran, pushing further and harder when a smell or lingering image triggered a memory. Dodging low hanging branches and jumping fallen trees, the super-soldier continued weaving a path deeper into the forest and further away from the familiar terrain, hoping to find some relief.

The warm sunlight tickled her skin. She breathed deeply, soaking up the last bits of summer. It was an unseasonably warm day. One of the last warm days before the cool breath of fall would settle on the town, leaving a kiss of frost on the grass every morning. As much as she loved the sun, the promise of cozy sweaters and pumpkin spice was almost just as appealing.

A truck honked, pulling her attention. Quickly, she threw up her hand, waving to Mr. Simmons, the town’s postman, as she crossed the street to the quiet cafe. Ordering a large iced coffee and roasted vegetable panini, she decided it was too nice to spend her lunch period inside. There was an open bench in the small town park. As the weather grew colder, she would need to eat lunch inside, but while the days were warm, she would enjoy being outside.

Everything seemed brighter now. Of course, not everyone felt that way, but she did. There were clearly complications to work out with half the planet returning after half a decade away, but it was nice to see life again.

She had intended to move away—take a job in one of those big cities, work during the day, and have adventures in the evening. She had it planned out. Then, the world turned upside down. Her already small town became smaller. Their stable economy quickly fell. There simply weren’t enough people left to keep the lights on. She saw the despair on the faces of those around her; not only had they lost their loved ones, but their town was now in danger. Her adventure would have to wait; she was needed here. She knew the name of just about everyone around, and they knew hers. Family is forever, and they were hers.

Memories of the last five years and thoughts of unfulfilled adventures lingered in her view as she finished her lunch. It was the sound of the church bells ringing that pulled her back.

She hadn’t been keeping track of her time. She had let it slip away. Swiftly, she started gathering her things, rushing to clean up her area. She lived by the rule, "Always leave a place a little better than you found it". She told her students often that if everyone followed this simple principle, the world would be a brighter, cleaner place. Small actions of change were even more important than bold ones. You didn't need to be a superhero to make a difference; you could be an everyday hero instead. Of course, her students were more interested in the Avengers, but some of them took heed of her words, and that was enough.

Making sure she had left everything as it was, she wasn’t looking when she turned quickly on her heels, colliding with what felt like a brick wall. She bounced backward, dropping her school bag as papers and assorted colored pens scattered to the ground around them.

The man who seemed unfazed by the encounter stood firmly. He glanced around as if trying to figure out where he was. His fists clenched at his sides, and his face filled with uncertainty.

“I’m so sorry.” Her cheeks reddened as she stooped to gather her things. “It was my fault. I should have been looking where I was going. But I’m late, and now I’m even later.” The teacher retrieved her belongings in a sort of haphazard frenzy, her words spilling nervously from her lips. “Are you okay? I mean, I’m sure you are, because...well, look at you.” She took a quick glance up, noting the definition of his muscles under the form-fitting workout shirt. This image only caused the fire in her face to burn hotter. She looked away before her eyes settled on his face. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head in disbelief and hurried off down the street, too embarrassed to look back. She had never been the conversationalist, and five years of minimal practice hadn't help, but even she knew that was excruciating.

As if being awakened from a trance, Steve pushed back the memories and processed what had happened. It was unlike him to be so distracted. However, since returning from the past, he found himself increasingly preoccupied and inattentive. Two things he was not used to being.

His gaze lingered on where she once stood. He turned and raised his hand to offer his own apology, but it was too late. He only caught the last glimpse of the hem of her dress fluttering around the corner.

The charm of the town caught his attention. He had never been there before, and to be fair, he wasn’t sure how he got there now. It was like something out of a made-for-television movie. It was a picturesque small town, with antique architecture, clean streets, and people who still smiled and paused to talk with one another. As he scanned the scene, he didn't see a single person on their phone. The people there truly seemed grateful to just enjoy the day.

The large clock tower in the town square read just past noon. He had been running for almost 4 hours. Could it have really been that long?

A flapping paper ensnared under the bench caught his attention. He retrieved the curious object—a child's drawing. In the middle of the page was a figure with long brown hair, and surrounding her were little stick figures, all wearing what looked like capes. A board on the wall read, "Heroes are born from small acts of kindness." It was addressed "To my favorite teacher" and signed "Emma". He realized the woman from before must have dropped it.

For a moment, his thoughts were quiet. This simple, innocent message had reminded him of what had been saved. His lips curled slightly at the corners. The feeling was short-lived, as a group of people stopped across the street and began looking and pointing in his direction.

Steve sighed heavily; he wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't who they were looking for. He tucked the drawing in his pocket and pulled out his phone to track the best route home, as he began jogging back the way he came.

[Part Two]

Till the end of the line (permatag) @the-soot-sprite​​

#steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x original character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fan fiction #chris evans #captain america #captain america fan fiction #marvel fan fiction #fan fiction #steve rogers x teacher

[lailoken]

“The Green Sojourn

In many traditions, the procuring of magical plant material from the wild is a rite unto itself, which sometimes reaches its apotheosis in a plant pilgrimage. Rites of ritual harvesting are an essential component to Green Sorcery and the Arte of the Philtre. These mindful praxes are a necessity for harvesting from the wild, and are rendered here as The Protocols of the Green Sojourn.

The first of the Laws of the Green Sojourner is the Protocol of Purity, which demands cleanliness of body, mind, tools, and intent prior to stepping foot in the wild. Every foray into wilderness is Exile, and thereby the domain of Cain. This hallow'd act entails a magical separation from the common, profane world and an entry into Earth Self-hallow'd; it also speicifcally mirrors the perpetual stance of the sorcerer as opposer. Thus awareness of this state of separateness should be cultivated and held at one's centre.

Before sojourning, clarity of intent should be first be formulated. Let the Verdant Magician be well-educated and cunning of craft regarding the species being sought: let all brothers and sisters of Arte discern keenly the status of the plant: know if it be endangered or overharvested; an aggressive introduced species or a precious native one. Knowing the Land is essential. If unfamiliar with the environs, let the land first be scouted, noting impressions received from the Genii Loci , plant communities, and apparent human impact. The Magician's Design should be humbly spoken to the local sprites, followed by an honest read of the place: any work of Green Sorcery can be thwarted by offended Land Spirits. As much as one may desire to harvest from a vigorous patch of Nettles, the Arte will be profaned if ill omens go unheeded and the Tabu of the Wildwood is violated.

As much as the aforementioned considerations of Purity of Intent, cleansing of the Sorcerer's very corpus should commence prior to the Green Sojourn: the Protocol of Purity demands Immaculation , both of the body and the Tools of Arte. For the physium, let a ritual bath be undertaken, as well as a fast. Physically cleanse all regalia by fumigating with smouldering tree-resin or an incense compounded from the plants growing in the locale to be wandered. The Mind may be purified and attenuated by observing that most noble of virtues, Silence. Traditional herb-gathering methods prescribe certain taboos prior to gathering plants, such as avoidance of sexual activity or alcohol. Both of these prohibitions are of incalculable value, chiefly for the homeostasis of the Aethyric Body as a precondition for the Arte Magical, as well as a gesture of devotion and respect. In addition , supplication of one's Grand Famulus prior to The Work is well advised. Finally, the Protocol of Purity demands that the land , and thereby the plants taken from it, be pure. As a general rule, the further removed from the influence of mankind the better, but of course there are exceptions to this, as some Herbs prefer haunts close to the habitation of humans, or graveyards, or amid the ruinous settlements of men long dead. Avoid picking plants by heavily traffick'd roadsides; many Herbs will absorb some of the corrupt principles of these besmirched byways, shun as well ditches fouled by agricultural venoms. Paradoxically, it is plants virtuous in accumulating healthful minerals from the earth, such as Nettle, which also store poisons.

The second protocol, The Protocol of Presence, is a magical obligation of pure and total focus when gathering Herbs, in the Garden as in the Wild. When sojourning into Wasteland and Thicket , the Man of Arte must become as the Wild: elsewise one is an intruder. This requires consideration of the magical goal, namely the Herbs being sought, but also the locus in which they dwell: in this moment, the Sojourner enters Hallowed Ground, stepping into a mansion of many beings. The Sojourn can be interrupted or tainted by the presence of obnoxious and loud persons; avoid them at all costs.

Third is the Protocol of Hailing. Prior to harvesting the Herb, let the Green Sorcerer announce his intent in a respectful way to the individual. A greeting and prayer of request to the plant is largely a matter of the sorcerer's own choosing. There are numerous examples of this from varying magical traditions. From the ancient Graeco-Aegyptians we learn of a curious rite of herb-gathering . It begins with the purifying his body. He then sprinkles natron for purification and circumambulates the plant three times, fumigating the herb with pine resin. The wortcunner then burns the best Kyphi incense, prays, pours a libation of milk, and pulls up the plant while invoking the name “of the daimon to whom the herb is being dedicated and calling upon him to be more effective for the use for which it is being acquired.” The plant is then addressed with the solemn incantation:

You were once known by Kronos, you were conceived by Hera, you were maintained by Ammon, you were given birth by Isis, you were nour ished by Zeus the god of rain, you were given growth by Helios and the dew....As you have exalted Osiris , so exalt yourself and rise just as Helios rises each day. Your size is equal to the zenith of Helios, your roots come from the depths, but your powers are the heart of Hermes, your fibers are the bones of Mnevis, and your flowers are the eye of Horus, your seed is Pan's seed. I am washing you in resin as I also wash the gods even (as I do this) for my own health....I am Hermes, I am acquiring you with Good Fortune and with Good Daimon both at a propitious hour and on a propitious day that is effective for all things.

Following the incantation, the herbalist fills the hole vacated by the plant with seven seeds each of wheat and barley, mixed with honey, then with earth. In the Domain of English Wortcunning, Nigel Pennick reveals a simple, potent, and artful tree-hailing from praxes of East Anglian plant-wisdom, spoken prior to cutting an Aspen branch, which, as noted , can be adapted for any tree:

Karrinder!

Hail to thee, O Aspen tree.

Old lady, give me some of this wood,

And I will give thee some of mine,

When I grow into a tree.

Send your virtue into this branch,

That your strength will flow through it

For the good of all.

Ka!

There is much to be gain'd by tailoring each Hailing individually to suit the plant . Considerations of the character of the Genius, the nature of the magics for which the Herb is intended, and some form of gratitude are paramount.

The Fourth Protocol of the Green Sojourn is The Protocol of Appropriate Harvesting. A clean cut, made with a sharp knife, is far more respectful of the plant than simply tearing off a leaf or a branch. Indiscriminate ripping of parts creates jagged wounds, rendering an Ally susceptible to infections. To assure both hygiene and quality of plant material, clean the blade after each use with strong alcohol.

For cutting, the Tool of Our Arte is the working knife, sometimes called the Knife of the White Hilt, its handle inscribed with the sigils and talismans of the Green Sorcerer's famuli, having, in some traditions, a crescent blade. Better than any knife or sickle, however, is a good hand pruner, duly consecrated to The Work. Such tools are crafted by horticulturists with the health of the plant in mind, and fashioned to cause minimal damage, rather than subjecting an Herb or Tree to the clumsy cuts of a knife. Some traditional wortcunners recommend avoidance of iron blades for this purpose, as iron is thought to offend the plant.

This Tabu of old has some credence, especially as relates to smaller, dainty plants with delicate stems or blossoms such as Violet or Forget-Me-Not. For such worts, iron and steel are perhaps excessive in terms of their metallic potencies. However, the vast majority of horticultural hand-pruners are made with steel, so the possession of bronze, silver, or gold knives must needs arise by the sorcerer's own ingenium and the Good Favour of Tubalo-Cain. It should be remembered that stainless steel, in order to render it incorruptible, contains appreciable amounts of Nickel, Chromium, Vanadium, or Titanium.

Appropriate harvesting for trees is especially important. If taking bark in any significant quantity, attempt to locate a newly-fallen tree, perhaps felled by a recent storm. If such cannot be found, remove bark in small quantities from younger lateral branches. Girdling, that is to say, circumscribing the trunk with a cut, can kill a tree. Leaves from trees should be gather'd in early to late spring, as their Virtues change with the advent of Summer, and they begin producing Bitter Principles to ward off insects. When harvesting branches for wands, avoid cutting branches arising from the dominant trunk; instead, take branches from lateral leaders.

When all plant materials have been gather'd, let them be wrapp'd in silk and put into a bag specially encharmed for carrying freshly-gather'd Herbs. By no means allow the material gather'd to touch the ground, as its sorcerous Virtue escapes downward into the earth and renders the material unsuitable for use in our Arte.

The Fifth Protocol, that of Numbers, governs the amount of material taken. Never harvest an Herb if it is a single individual standing alone. Look for large, well-established populations, and gather variously-aged individuals. Leave the largest and most healthy plant; petitioning this individual directly for specific needs before proceeding to gather, being alert for ill signs.

In general, the following numbers apply to gathering plants in the Wild:

If harvesting an entire plant, a maximum of one tenth of the total individuals in one location.

If stem or root, one sixth of total individuals. When taking roots from perennials, strive for lateral root-branches and leave sufficient vertical and other lateral roots to ensure the plant's survival; cutting too close to a plant's crown can kill it.

If bark, harvest sparing material taken from divers, smaller branches or from trees downed by recent storms. Avoid taking bark from the main trunk of a tree.

If flowers or fruit, harvest from one fifth of total individuals present.

If seed, harvest from one-fifth of total individuals, scattering some of the seed harvested.”

—

Ars Philtron

by Daniel A. Schulke

#witchcraft #magic #traditional withcraft #sabbatic witchcraft #sabbatic tradition #cultus sabbati #sabbatic craft #grimoire #Ars Philtron #poison path #Daniel a. Schulke #herbalism #her Craft

[henryobsessed]

I Took You Home - The Apartment

Summary: Reba has stepped out of her comfort zone and taken a very inebriated Henry home to her apartment. Unfortunately or Fortunately he still thinks she’s Lucy. 

Word Count: 1743

Warning: Hand Job, Stimulation, dub consent, drunk actions.

A/N thank you for the excited responses to this idea.

A/N what would you do in this situation? 

Previous Chapter one

As Reba drove, she occasionally glanced over at the sleeping form that was taking up a large part of her little Civic. What was she doing? Reba was not a brash person in fact the majority of her life apart from one little blip 10yrs ago was well ordered and spent in complete independence of a partner. However, each time she looked over, saw his chest rise and fall, and the gentle murmuring coming from his lips....... "Shake out of it, Reba" she reprimanded herself, putting her focus back on the road.

Arriving at her apartment block she pulled into the underground parking. Her car now idling she looked at Henry again, what was she thinking she hasn't entertained a guy in 10yrs let alone a drunk one. But here they were, and she was not going to leave him to sleep this off in her car. Knowing her luck, he would vomit everywhere and be left with the stench for months reminding her of this idiotic decision. Bolstering her resolve, she got out of the car and headed around to the passenger side door. Please let him have sobered up just a little bit she thought as she opened the door.

Looking down at his handsome face she placed a hand on his shoulder and said " Henry, wake up were here" He mumbled something unintelligible and then tried to undo the seatbelt. After a few tries, it was obvious that his hand-eye coordination what not working. Reba chuckled softly at his childish attempts as he continued in frustration to push the button down. Leaning into the car she placed her hand over his, stilling the action. He leaned his head into her hair as he mumbled "Sorry Lucy" the action and the close proximity of his body to hers sent shivers down to her middle a strange sensation that both excited and terrified her.

Once he was released from the bounds of the seatbelt Reba took his arm and encouraged him out of the car. Standing he still swayed unsteadily on his feet, using her shoulder for support, she somehow kept him upright as they walked to the elevator. Her apartment was on the 28th floor and by the time they reached it Henry was looking green, she quickly opened her door as Henry stammered "I'm sorry Lucy I'm not feeling great" Thankfully she got him to the hallway half bath before he began heaving into the toilet. Feeling sorry for the tall man she gently rubbed circles along his lower back hoping it would help ease some of the misery he would be feeling. They stayed there for a minute before he seemed to have finished emptying what sounded to her like the entire content of his stomach.

Grabbing Henry a glass of water she held it to lips, looking him over glad everything had made it into the bowel she asked "do you think you can stand? "he looked at her and with the smallest of nods took her hand to stand. Reba once again acting as a stabilizing force helped him down the hallway into her small but comfortable living room. At first, she thought she would just help him to the couch but looking at it now in relation to his tall frame she knew he would be pretty sore in the morning if she did that. So instead she continued to the door off the living room that lead to her Bedroom. At this moment she bemoaned the choice that she had made to only rent a single bedroom apartment.

Walking the two of them to the empty side of her queen size bed she sat Henry down. Thinking that he could just sleep in his clothes she turned around to get a spare pillow from her cupboard. As she turned back, however, she found Henry fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He was mumbling again something about protecting his shirt, not wanting wrinkles. Reba at this stage started to chuckle again, how could anyone in this state of inebriation be thinking about wrinkles. The Cute look of concentration on his face and the small pout that was forming caused compassion to overtook her senses as she watched him repeatedly try to undo his buttons with no success. He shot her a pleading look, his blue eyes pulling at her heart.

Sighing she knelt in front of him and started to undo his shirt. His warm large hands reached out settling onto her waist. Reba was trying hard not to look up at him for fear of him kissing her again. So instead focused hard on each button, he leaned his head forward against hers    "thanks Lucy" he whispered, she groaned at that statement, dam when he wakes up in the morning, he'll be in for a shock.

Sliding the shirt off his shoulders she stared in shock. His shirt had been hiding a secret as she stared at the perfectly sculptured muscles. This guy can't be real, can he? She almost reached out to touch the 8 pack before catching herself. Shaking her head, she stood stepping out of his hold and turned to go find a coat hanger so he would not have wrinkles in the morning. Thinking she could help him lay down now she turned and almost dropped the hanger as Henry stood his jeans in a bundle on the floor and the only thing covering his body, a pair of boxers. Blushing she turned around trying to find somewhere to hang the shirt.

She heard the rustling of sheets and when she looked back, he was facing her side of the bed thankfully covered by her thick duvet. She made sure that he was tucked in, unable to resist she ran her fingers through his hair causing a deep purr to vibrate from his chest at the attention. Startled by his response and embarrassed by her actions she bent picking up his jeans to distract herself. Anyway, If he was precious about his shirt she should at least hang up his jeans as well.

Settling them on a hanger she went to leave the room thinking she would sleep on the couch. But a deep pleading voice halted her. "Don't leave Lucy, please. I don't want to sleep alone. I thought you forgave me" Sighing Reba fought with herself. Surely, he's too drunk to be able to do anything, also how often would she have a hunk of a man semi-naked in her bed. What would the harm?

Reba gave up the internal fight, he seemed so lonely what would it hurt for just one night. Switching off the light in the living room she walked to her side of the bed. Nerves jangled about her body as she changed into her comfortable PJ's and slipped under the covers. Shifting slightly, she Whispered "good night Henry" hearing only a mumble she settled herself to sleep. 

Reba's eyes flew open seconds after closing them as a hand sneaked over her waist and pulled her into a hard muscular body. Settling his face into her neck he whispered "There that's better. Night Lucy" Eyes wide not sure what to do she held her breath until Henry's breath evened out into a steady rhythm next to her ear. Repeating the now all too familiar mantra to herself what would it hurt, she relaxed her body allowing herself to enjoy the feel of warmth emanating from the sleeping man behind her. It took a little bit of time especially as the soft snores began but eventually, Reba fell asleep.

Moaning Reba awoke to a set of lips gentle but more insistently kissing her neck. The sensation tingling through her body and pooling in her middle. Trying to remember the night before she instinctively moved her hand over her body to feel the one behind her. Her hand landed on something hard and long causing a moan to vibrate from the kisser's mouth. She enjoyed the feelings generated by the kissing. Still, she was not willing to let this develop into anything more as he probably thought she was still Lucy.  The taught muscle in her hand started to twitch as she subconsciously began squeezing its hot length. This was only the second time she had felt one and if his moans were anything to go by he was enjoying her touch. Realising she was unwilling to stop what was happening she relaxed and leaving her hand where it was hoped that by controlling that action nothing else would occur.

As she relaxed in her sleep hazed mind she felt her bedmate start thrusting up into her hand, increasing the moaning into her neck. The length in her hand pulsated as she increased the tension around it with the hand. His hand that had until now been securely wrapped around her waist moved its way down and with delicate fingers found her sensitive heat. This caused Reba to respond in kind with a moan her own tension building and burning with unfamiliar sensations. The kisses, thrusting, and dexterity of fingers found a rhythm that increased its intensity until Reba felt before she heard the expanding and warmth within her hand followed by a groan, as his body rigidly curled into hers as he rode out his orgasm. The sensations left burning terribly between her legs as his body relaxed troubled her and left her feeling uncomfortably wanting more.

The room was filled with the sounds of hearts pounding and lungs gasping for air and nothing more until a gruff deep voice whispered "Thank you Lucy" before soft snores began again. Shit, Reba lifted the sleeping arm of her body and moved to the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror. "What are you doing??" a tear made its way down one cheek as she realized no matter what, she was going to be humiliated this morning. The only thing she could think to do was cook a good hangover breakfast that might make up for the fact that she had to face the stranger in her bed.  

Next Chapter Three

A/N what would you do in this situation? have you ever wondered how to control what was happening while being out of control? What will Henry do when he realizes this is not Lucy's apartment?

I have Tagged people who follow me and who I follow if you want to be removed or added please let me know :)

@keanureevesisbae @darkverrmin @viking-raider @littlefreya@madbaddic7ed @the-soot-sprite @thelastsock @lovetusilver20@crimsonrae @demivampirew @ladyreapermc@henrycavillobsessed @nitannichionne @runawayolives @heartfelt-pen @omgkatinka @star017 @llly113 @sad-ghost-of-garbage @ayamenimthiriel @starstruckkittyangel @lebguardians @summersong69 @notyouraveragemochii @imneonpanda @carriebee1 @ivyfatale @thereisa8ella @lucy930 @sarahmichelle5 @stuckupstucky @cleodoramer @kmuir1 @elliepower @xobriellaxo24 @xxxkatxo @supernovacocorocha @hennerslionhat @xo-mery-ox @waitedforlove743 @ladamari68 @coksy @wickedrum @harleyfranquinn @mysticalstrangerearthquake @justrae9903 @willkatfanfromasia @daddys-littlewhitegirl @cavilladdict @lebguardians @theblondetumbleweed @snowbellexx​ @radaofrivia @geralttheewitcher @acdd22 @thullyana​ @fanfictionaddiction99​ @beckythfc1882 @heyheyharry​ @sauve-et-libre @shy-violet-soul  @elliepower @msamericanrebel​ @minion-of-the-lord @xxxkatxo​ @oh-for-fic-sake​ @omgkatinka​ @pterodactylterrace​ @ruthoakenshield​ @inanna999​ @libbymouse​ @witcherfan​ @enchantedbyhiddles

#drunk!henry #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fic

[omgkalyppso]

It's 1 AM — happy belated birthday Owain! I wrote some owainigo / laslodin ? Intended as being able to be read as an S support for Laslow and Odin. Written to recognize Inigo as bisexual and polyamorous and Owain as a trans man. Vague about Owain's sexuality because he currently has his sights on Inigo only.

.

It had been a long time since Laslow had felt like dancing; even recently, he’d wondered if he’d ever want to again, when they’d fallen into Valla and all hope had seemed lost. Yet when Xander had ordered he and Peri enjoy themselves this eve, he’d had a week for his dancer’s garb to be refitted — the clothes he’d arrived in — now matching a soldier’s girth and shoulders. He was not the spritely lad of years past, and wondered whether he looked like a fool.

In the least, the steps were as familiar as breathing, and the melody of the drums was known to his heart, even if the tune wasn’t the same.

His mother — his birth mother, whom he’d only known for such a short time, so much of her dancing was made for battle: relief in victory, love in anticipation, heart in loss. She remembered music of happier times, but those dances hadn’t translated into his tiny feet, so used to the sound of war drums.

He found his dancing riled the spirits of some, who watched or tapped a foot, mimicking a step or two, and Laslow felt further from them than he ever had before.

They were going home. He was going home.

This crowd would only be a memory.

.

He wondered where he would find himself: would it really be the world left in relative peace where Grima lay sleeping? Or would his intent send him spiraling far and away to the land of memory, nightmares and blight? Would Owain even wish to leave Nohr? It suited Odin Dark so naturally. He seemed happier as a mage, and through magic, his own and discovered, Owain had even managed to mold his chest into a form that brought him joy and comfort.

Inigo wondered whether Owain would hold any apprehension in sharing this version of himself with old friends and family.

Some would say Owain had no understanding of shame or embarrassment, but they’d never read his stories aloud, or seen him as a young bashful man who knew little and less of how to present himself. Still, Owain had grown, had carved himself and the world around him in ways that had secured their victories as of late.

Inigo knew that it was his own insecurities over returning that truly alarmed him.

Meanwhile Severa knew what she wanted. She always had. Her heart might be large enough to reserve pieces for all who showed her kindness and some manner of discipline, but she could never stay away from Morgan and her parents. Her home was known and waiting.

.

The song ended and he shared a soft laugh with his liege, a man whose trust and generosity he was on the cusp of betraying.

.

Public celebrations were a favorite of Owain’s. He had learned to handle a crowd, and could often find a group or three to regale with tales of victory, honor and suspense. There were jeers at times, but less when the people were joyous and relieved. Perhaps not all understood the challenges that had weighed upon their liege lords and borders, or their fabric of reality, but they knew strife, and wanted to believe it could be felled by a hero — why shouldn’t he be that.

He’d been shouting over the music for so long, that he’d nearly missed Elise’s voice marveling excitedly, “Hey! Did you know about this? He told me his dancing was a secret.”

While the Xander hushed his sister and they chittered on in silence, Odin Dark also fumbled in his tale, glancing, for a moment, to where Laslow spun daggered discs on his wrists. Owain might have trailed off entirely, and taken the time to watch as much of the performance as possible, whether to jeer or jest or compliment, but Odin had an audience, people who would think him missing or worse in the weeks to come, and so he dove back into an embellishment of the beasts they had defeated. He could watch Inigo dance again. He was sure of it.

.

The tents were relatively empty when the witching hour came to pass. The masses had retreated to the castles and campgrounds, manor houses and taverns where guests and guards were making due. A flutist was speaking with Laslow, a dancer by his side, correcting his posture, of all things. Owain sat on the edge of a fountain, and watched until his friend noticed, as Laslow turned away, red in his cheeks and upon his neck. He stopped their performance swiftly, seemingly assuring the dancer that he would remember to practice. It put a pinch in Owain’s brow, mournful that he’d spurred his friend toward another broken promise.

“You were watching then?” asked Laslow, spinning a ribbing at his side through his hoops so that they would lay at his hip, jingling.

“Even those whose ears I captivated with tales from the saga of Odin Dark, could look nowhere else!” He chuckled as Laslow sat by his side, shifting slightly, as the costume left little protection against the cool damp stone of the fountain. “If only you’d told me, we might have coordinated our performance!”

“I’d make a poor archrival then,” Laslow teased. “If I weren’t stealing your audience.” He stretched, and Odin watched how the bulge of his belly and triceps marked Laslow for his latest manner of fighting — reserved, sturdy, and strong. “And still, not one enraptured lady to request an encore, nor a single suitor to waylay my evening with a flower or three.”

“Only me,” Odin said mournfully, shaking his head.

“Only you,” Laslow agreed, smirking, and he saw how tired Owain was then, and hoped it was his performance, regaling the public with magic and mystery, but he knew it was the war, the ever present ones they’d fought through. He wondered if he would ever feel so comfortable as to compliment his friend, the growing wrinkles at his eyes, the stubble of his beard, the mouthwatering line of muscle revealed by his boastful outfit. He licked his lips. “My vexatious tormentor. Are you headed to sleep?”

Owain saw that the question had two answers. The first was an affirmative, though he would go to his room and stare at the ceiling, perhaps retreat to the library and spend his last few hours in this realm reading more and more of foreign magic as their time grew short. The second was a negative, and perhaps he and Laslow could find somewhere that drink still flowed, and they could pretend to lose themselves in tankards while he made a show of failing to find them dates and he either made a friend of the barman or annoyed him until they were both ejected into the night. However, something inside him overflowed, and Owain found himself seeking to fight the beasts of trepidation and consideration — perhaps he had already won, and it was their blood that had filled him with their ferocious candor as he asked, “Do you know I’m in love with you?”

Laslow’s eyes blinked wide, lashes casting a flickering shadow across his cheekbones.

“Owa—Odin,” he objected. “You can’t—” He huffed, frustrated, taking to his feet. “We fight against each other with every step.” He hid his eyes in his hands and then slowly adjusted his head as he admitted aloud, “I fight against commitment with every breath.”

“When do we not fight towards a common goal — against the forces of darkness, together?” Owain asked with a small smile, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the insides of his spread knees. “My confession need not change anything between us, it certainly doesn’t mean to change anything about you. My affection has grown even as you’ve found joy and rejection with your strings of lovers. And I’ve found that I can love you — that I do,” he swallowed, “love you. I’m saying it too much now.”

“There is nothing consistent in our lives,” Inigo said, sad and distressed. He wrapped his right arm around himself, squeezing at a shoulder, too muscled to feel right going back into his old life, too scarred to hope that wherever they found themselves in two days time that there would be the peace and family he’d hoped for. “I have gone days feeling as though everything around me is temporary, and others believing that this is what is real and it is me who doesn’t belong. We nearly failed. We—”

He hesitated as Owain stood before him, reaching out carefully to take hold of either of his elbows.

“We didn’t,” Owain said, calm and sure.

Time passed. Neither man could say how much. Patiently, Owain did not force an embrace, but he did rest his temple against Inigo’s, rocking his face towards him as he whispered, “And you’ve had some consistencies in your life. And me in mine.”

He waited longer, breathing deeply while his friend calmed in his arms, and then Inigo was lifting his left hand up to Owain’s hip and the mage smiled, letting his hands creep around the small of Inigo’s back, locking them together. “If I declared that I would dedicate my life to you, very little would change … and I think that’s very telling.”

“I feel good, with you,” Inigo murmured, tucking his face into the curve of Owain’s neck, “but my trysts don’t last and you—” he bit his lips, and as they rolled back into place he felt them pout against Owain’s skin, almost a kiss, “you’re too important for me to risk in a bout of bad behavior.”

Owain snickered. “Are you asking me to make sure you don’t grow bored? I think no matter what awaits us after tomorrow, I can promise it will be interesting.” He tossed his head back, and smiled wider as Inigo admired him; it was a wonderfully new feeling. “Do you think Odin Dark would settle for less? That the tale of the Avengers of Righteous Justice would end here?”

“Avengers?” Inigo repeated, pulling away from the embrace.

“I don’t forget my friends,” Owain assured him, but Inigo continued.

“And, really, I rather hoped that my tale might end. In some manner of the word… I want to rest. I want to feel the relief that these people felt, that our parents felt when their journey was over. To find a stage to dance upon, perhaps a student to apprentice while I’m still young enough to perform.”

“Then we will find it,” Owain said with conviction, his hands on Inigo’s shoulders. “A place where Selena can be a tired old general, or an extension of nobility, where our friends are close, and our families closer still, and where I study all the magic that has ever beset us with worry — that of gods, and dragons, and travel between realms—”

“Is this why you sought to be a mage?” Inigo balked, holding the dips at Owain’s elbows.

“All to keep us safe,” Owain said cryptically, blue eyes flickering with withheld words. “I will work tirelessly to make that peaceful realm you dream of, friend.”

“I can’t expect you to vanquish evil on your own,” Inigo said, a measure of wonder on his face. A puff of air passed his lips, joy and shock and hope twisting his lips first in a frown and then in a smile. “Very well then. Together, this time. We’ll start this tale together, as we’ve always been.”

“Then—?” Owain prompted, hopeful.

“Of course,” Inigo assured him, pulling himself into Owain’s space again, this time to plant a kiss on his warm lips. “I’ve loved you too. You need only look to your side — if you truly wish to take me as I am … then you will always find me here.”

#owainigo #odin fire emblem #laslow fire emblem #owain fire emblem #inigo fire emblem #inigowain #fire emblem fates #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem #i might write smut to follow this up with at some point #i'd hope i did alright on their speech patterns #for friends who are reading my writing but not familiar with the games odin = owain and laslow = inigo and selena = severa #they're going by false names because of travelling through space and time #my writing #i made this #the fanfiction i mean

[perriewinklenerdie]

All the right moves (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note:  Hello, hello, hello! It's an idea that flew into my head and kinda refused to let go. It left me no choice, I had to get it out of my system, so here we are :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218528

Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h 

  Enjoy! <3

------------

Ethan loathed the politics with passion. Not all the people involved in it though, just most of them. They were twofaced and fake, which rubbed Ethan the wrong way. If someone was going to lie to his face with an artificial smile, he couldn’t stop himself from cutting their bullshit immediately and just asking them to tell him what they wanted.

Claire, on the other hand, was brilliant with people, and he knew it. She was his lifeline, his saving grace, and he knew that no matter what, he couldn’t deal with it all without her. He couldn’t deal with salesmen without her either, a random thought that he never thought he would have, but here they were.

The diagnostic team was summoned that morning along with the Board of Directors to discuss the new conditions that Edenbrook had to face. Naveen was twisting his fingers restlessly when Ethan opened the door for him and Claire to walk through, going so far as to pull out a chair for her before he sat down himself. Of course, everyone knew that Ethan was a gentleman, so his behavior wasn’t that surprising, but the fact that he trailed the resident like her shadow when they were together raised a few eyebrows over the past weeks.

“What did they say?” Claire asked, her voice filled with uncertainty, not only because of the situation, but also because of the setting she was in. Being the youngest in the room, she felt as though she maybe shouldn’t or couldn’t speak. No matter what others thought, Naveen smiled at her sadly, then pushed a stack of papers to the center of the table.

“Their first decision was to take away our funding. No amount of convincing could change their mind, Mass Kenmore seemed like a better option for them. Of course, I wasn’t about to give up without a fight.” He laughed at that, shaking his head and pointing to the second pile of files next to him. “Somehow, I managed to convince them to reconsider. Your input did a lot, that chance is all because of your dedication.” His eyes swept over every single face in the room, warmth and gratitude in them. “And they gave us a condition. Make it happen, and we get our funding back.”

“Sounds like a trap to me.” Ethan muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. Claire looked back at him, noticing how he tried and failed to look at the bright side of the things.

“They said that, in order to get the money back in our corner, we need to, ridiculous as it sounds, given the fact that they didn’t want to spend any money here in the first place, open a new place for the patients.” The Chief explained, his gestures conveying how ridiculous the condition sounded.

“First they don’t want to give us money, and now they want us to make a place so they can spent even more money here? Idiots.” June chipped in, mumbling the last insult under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, causing the room to laugh, the atmosphere loosening up almost immediately.

“Are there any conditions that the place has to meet?” Claire asked, drumming her fingers against her thigh gently. Ethan’s eyes strayed from the paper he was reading to the movement of her digits before he realized what he was doing. She noticed. Of course she noticed, smirking to herself when she traced a shape of a heart on her jeans and his cheeks reddened slightly, breathing in deeply. Their colleagues seemed oblivious to the teasing they were doing.

“They mentioned something about the amount of rooms and what had to be in them. It’s all in the papers in front of you, but what stuck in my mind was the very complex outline of how the waiting area is supposed to look like.” He reached for the paper, squinting his eyes so he could read what was written on it. “A fireplace, couches, blankets, cafeteria, a patio-“

“That’s ridiculous.” Ethan moved to stand up, only to be stopped by Claire’s hand, grabbing his arm and squeezing lightly. Their eyes met, a silent argument going on for a couple of seconds. Finally, he let out a huffed breath and sat back down, leaving Claire with a satisfied grin.

“So, what we should do now is… start looking for a house? Cause that’s what it is, right?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders slightly. It really was ludicrous, just like Ethan said, but in their current circumstance, they couldn’t do much.

“Essentially, yes. I’ve already looked into a couple of locations, and I think some of them have potential. But of course, we won’t know until we go there and see it for ourselves.” Naveen summed up everything with a bright smile, a glimmer of hope in his posture.

“We can start visiting those places after our shifts are over.” Baz chimed in, beating his hands against the table a couple of times, then standing up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have enough time to wait that long. If we’re going to find a place, get renovations done and move our patients there, we need to act now. I’ve already cleared Ethan’s, Claire’s and mine schedules, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

The meeting ended a few minutes later, and all the doctors left the room. Claire went back to the locker room to leave her white coat and grab her handbag. By the time she reached Naveen’s car, both men were already there, visibly arguing.

“I need my map, Ethan, and I won’t be able to look at it if it’s in the back seat.” Naveen grinned mischievously, leaning against the hood of his vehicle. Ethan’s face hardened, slowly realizing what the older man was trying to do.

“I can hold your map if you really need it, but may I remind you that you have a GPS?” he argued, trying his hardest to mess up whatever plan his mentor’s mind has created.

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” The Chief opened the door, threw his bag and coat into the front seat, then turned around to say something, when he noticed Claire approaching them. “Dr. Herondale! Just in time, we’re about to head over to the first location.”

Ethan’s eyes looked over her briefly, his eyes widening when he saw the outline of the heart she drew during the meeting, still on her thigh. He cleared his throat to distract from the rather obvious rush of blood to his cheeks, for the second time that day.

Naveen nudged his head towards the car, indicating for Ethan to get in, then opened the door for Claire with a megawatt smile. She thanked him quietly, sitting next to Ethan without a single word, but her eyes locked on him. Her eyebrow shot up at the sullen look on his face, unsure what that was all about. Mostly because they didn’t have time, but also because they had company, she decided not to dig. At least for now.

Twenty minutes later, they reached the first destination. A large house on the beach, made of wood, with large windows. There seemed to be a bit of a backyard, but other than that, it was a plain building. Claire didn’t see the potential in the place, but for the sake of being precise, they had to see it. She could see Ethan scowling at the sight before him, and the last thing they needed was for him to be angry, so she walked past him, pinching his arm briefly.

“Chin up, smile on, Ramsey. You’re going to scare the walls off.” She turned around and began walking backwards to wink at him. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched her disappear into the house. Naveen stood next to him, smirking at the influence the young woman had on his friend.

“How long?” he asked quietly, waiting for the attending to look at him. Ethan took a deep breath, debating whether he should let him know that he knows exactly what he was asking or not.

“Since Dolores died.” A deep sigh escaped Ethan’s lips, his eyes falling shut. Before that exact moment, he thought about it only one or two times. And every time, he realized that it’s been going on for so long, that he barely remembered what it was like to not have her in his head.

“And how long are you going to be a stubborn ass?” Naveen asked again, waiting for the other man’s eyes to snap open in shock.

“Did you just call me an ass?”

“No, I called you a stubborn ass. You already know when she entered that mind of yours. You also know that no matter how hard you try, you can’t cut her out. So, it seems to me like it’s time to give yourself a chance to be happy.” The Chief concluded, seeing the battle that was going on in the head of the younger doctor. Heavy burden and underlying weariness were painfully visible in his eyes and on his face.

“I know I can’t run forever. I’m not that strong, I am going to break at some point. But that could be going hand in hand with a scandal. If I can postpone it, protect her, even if only for one more day, I will.”

“Did you think that maybe she doesn’t want you to protect her like that?” Naveen pointed out, opening his mouth to say more but in that moment, Claire walked back outside, shaking her head to confirm what they all already knew. Without another moment of hesitation, they went back to the car and moved on. Ethan’s head was swimming with all the possibilities and ways to resolve the knot in his head. He could feel her eyes on him, warming up the side of his face, wanting nothing more than to reach out for her, to tell her everything that weight on his mind, but it was not the time nor the place for that conversation.

Another thirty minutes passed, and their car got stuck in a bit of a traffic, right before they were to reach the next location. Naveen caught Claire’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and a second later, music blasted from the speakers and the two of them started singing at the top of their lungs. She laughed, leaning into Ethan and pulling him to her, trying to make him sway in time with the music. He knew his scowl wouldn’t discourage her, but he tried anyway, noticing how she smirked and then threw her arm over his shoulder, bringing their faces close together. Her voice got softer and gentler, singing quietly. Looking into the rearview mirror, he caught Naveen’s gaze. His mentor winked at him, nudging his head towards Claire, hoping to encourage Ethan, but all he got was a glare.

“Why do I put up with both of you?” he muttered, loud enough for both of his companions to hear.

“Because you love us, and you can’t live without our brilliant humor?” the older doctor offered, eliciting a laugh from Claire and a scoff from Ethan.

After what seemed like forever, they stepped into the second location. Naveen walked ahead, leaving the pair behind. They walked in silence, looking around the rooms, trying to gather all the changes and renovations that would need to be done, realizing more and more that it was pointless. The building was old, walls were falling apart, floors were damaged beyond repair and window frames were barely hanging onto the walls.

Claire was examining the ceiling when Ethan tripped over some debris and stumbled into her, sending them both onto floor. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck to shield it from the impact, not having enough time to do anything else. He kept himself up on his arm to avoid falling on top of her, a sharp pain radiating from his elbow to his shoulder. Their faces were inches apart, both of them breathing heavily, but neither saying a word. It’s been a while since they were this close together, and while they knew there was nothing remotely emotional about their circumstance, the silent exchange between their eyes told a different story.

Ethan’s nose brushed against hers, his gaze falling to her lips and lingering there for a much longer moment than it should. When he looked at her again, he saw vulnerability and impossible softness in her eyes, something he knew for a fact that she could see in his too. The distance between their faces grew smaller and smaller, until their lips were mere inches apart. He could barely hear a thing that happened around him, his blood was rushing in his ears, tuning out everything else.

“Now that is a beautiful sight.” Naveen’s voice broke the connection between them, causing their heads to snap to the side, only now noticing the Chief, who must have been standing there for quite some time, watching the situation unfold. Ethan cleared his throat, shooting up to his feet, then offering his hand to Claire. She took it gratefully, letting him pick her up, both of them avoiding looking at each other or their friend. “Come on, you two. We have a few more places to see.”

Maybe they expected it to be the case, maybe they didn’t, but it turned out that every place they visited was worse than the one before. How that was even possible, they didn’t know, but somehow, each building was falling apart more than the previous one, slowly, gradually descending into the pits of despair. They were ready to throw the idea away altogether and just give up, when they pulled up to the last location.

It didn’t look like anything they were looking for. Stone walls, floors lined with stone panels, white windows and wooden door. Everything made up a warm feeling to the place, inviting to take a look inside. Claire smiled gently, being the first one to step forward, leaving the other two behind.

Rooms were big and in a surprisingly good state. Various tables and chairs were scattered among the building, some had couches and armchairs. She found a piano in the room at the very end of a house, sitting next to it. Having played it in the past had its perks, but ever since she went to med school, she didn’t have time or opportunities to practice, so all she had going for her was the kinesthetic memory of her body.

Her fingers brushed against the keys, the delicate memory filling the room. She closed her eyes, slowly remembering how the notes went, gaining confidence. As the music went on, she got lost in her head, drowning out her surrounding, reaching with her memory back to the time when her life was easier. She wouldn’t exchange the one she had now, even if she could, but it was nice to look back at her younger self.

Unknown to her, she had two pairs of eyes on her, both stunned into silence. Ethan was enchanted by the melody flowing from underneath her fingers, stepping closer to her like he couldn’t stop himself, until her was standing right behind her, mesmerized. The room soon fell silent, save it for their breaths. Claire’s shoulders moved up and down, her head turning to the side, revealing the smirk on her face.

“You couldn’t possibly be staring harder, Ethan.” She teased him, turning around fully. Ethan’s cheeks reddened slightly, his gaze avoiding her. Naveen clapped, smiling widely at her.

“That was beautiful. I didn’t know you could play the piano, Claire.” He applauded her, walking over to them both. She shrugged her shoulders, pressing a random key on the piano.

“My Dad wanted me to play an instrument, but him and my Mom never quite agreed what I should play.”

“What they were torn between?” this time it was Ethan that asked the question, finally finding his voice. Her lips curled into a fond smile.

“Piano and a violin.”

“Piano won I guess.” It was a valid assumption that Naveen made, but, to the surprise of both men, she shook her head, answering with humor in her voice.

“Bold of you both to assume that I didn’t learn both.” She observed how their eyes went wide and then they laughed, Naveen’s whole posture shaking. “My brother had it way easier.”

“He didn’t have to learn any instrument?” Ethan snickered, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the side of the piano.

“Oh no, he tried. But he is tone-deaf and ‘absolutely garbage’ as my Mom used to say, so they gave up.” she explained, applying her British accent to her Mom’s words.

Without another word, she stood up and moved to another room, still feeling Ethan’s eyes on her. For a man that insisted on them keeping the professional relationship, he spent and awful lot amount of time by her side, observing her, looking at her when he thought no one would notice. She does, every time, and sometimes she chooses to tease him about it, sometimes she lets him think he is sneaky in his actions.

While walking through the long hall, her eyes registered the change in the pattern of the wall. To her left, was a window, with one of the most beautiful stained glass designs she’s ever seen. The sun illuminated it softly, enriching the colors, creating rises and falls, curves, various tones to the pieces that came together in harmony.

“They bring out your freckles.” Ethan’s smooth voice filled the void in her mind, grabbing her attention. She tilted her head slightly, not looking away from the picture in front of her. “And your eyes. They sparkle more, though perhaps it has nothing to do with the light.”

“You must be diagnostician, Dr. Ramsey, for you are very perceptive.” She mused gently, turning to fully look at him. The darker parts of the glass casted intricate swirls onto his face, interlacing with the mimic lines that were already there. Her finger traced one of the paths, barely touching his skin, just enough to make him shiver. He couldn’t fight the smile that pulled on his lips, reflected clearly in his eyes. “There’s that smile I wanted to see.”

Never giving him enough time to say anything, she took a step back, glancing at him with a type of regret that he knew all too well. He felt it every second of every day for what felt like ages, the burden he himself chose to carry, and only he could relief himself of it. All it took was a simple ‘yes’.

More exploring of the building revealed that they may have found a perfect match. It was big enough to fit the requirements, and new enough to not require that much work to be transformed into a medical place. Just to be sure that they had everything they needed, Naveen decided to split up, leaving Ethan and Claire alone to examine the other part of the house while he inspected the rest and checked the details on the blueprints.

He walked slowly, observing how her eyes lit up when she found a new stained glass or a new fireplace. She skimmed her fingers over the stones on the wall, counting in her head how many rooms they were passing through. Ethan started thinking about to future purposes of the spaces around them, seeing in his mind how it would look once all the renovations were done.

“Ethan.” She muttered softly, standing in the doorway leading outside. He walked over to her side, looking down at her, and when she felt his gaze on her face, she nodded towards the view before them.

The same walls that made up the house lined out the patio, letting in just enough light of the afternoon sun to bathe them both in warmth. His fingers brushed against hers and then slowly laced with them, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her thumb caressed his palm, tracing soothing circles. She took a step forward, then another, pulling him along with her so they could see more.

The multiple plants lined the sides, a small, round garden filled with green bushes. Yet another fireplace with a few seats placed beside it was situated next to the door, an old string of lights hanging over their heads. Ethan reluctantly let her go, focusing on the technical side of the building while she watched the nature.

He did a round along the walls of the patio and then stopped by the table, standing next to the window. His eyes trained on Claire, watching how she muttered to herself about all the different kinds of bushes and flowers.

“I didn’t know you knew your way around plants.” She turned to look at him, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

“Good to know I can still surprise you.” teasing him, she strolled over to the table he was standing by. He placed his hands on the flat surface, leaning in her direction. “My Mom loves plants, so I picked up a lot of her knowledge when she was gardening in our backyard. She uses every winter evening to read the gardening magazines and she does sketches of her plans.”

“She seems very dedicated to the things she loves. Must be where you’re getting it from.” He mused, his eyes roaming her face with a ghost of a smile. She bit the corner of her lip cheekily, mirroring his stance, their faces close enough for him to notice the golden specks in her eyes.

“Aren’t you smooth.”

The air stood still, not moving even one strand of their hair, the absolute silence deafening. Electricity cracked between them, charging the atmosphere, and to Ethan it seemed as though keeping away from her even a second longer was simply impossible. Like two magnets, the pull was too strong to resist.

His hand grabbed the collar of her shirt, creasing the material, and pulled her to him gently, fitting his lips to hers. She hummed, letting the kiss linger, moving her lips once, twice. She wouldn’t be the one to lean away, he started it, he would have to be the one to end it.

It came later than she thought it would, his face still close, his grip still tight. Their gazes met, her irises so dark they were bordering on being black, just like his. He was afraid to step away, afraid to face the fact that she may realize how much she’s putting herself through for him and just stop trying. Her silence didn’t do anything to make him feel better either.

“Come back.” She whispered, reaching with her hand for him. Her fingers dipped into the gap between the buttons of his shirt, grasping the fabric and yanking him forward, slamming their lips back together.

It was his turn to moan, barely above a whimper, eyes falling back shut. With both hands, he gripped her hips, picking her up and sliding her over the smooth surface towards him. Her knees pressed into his thighs from both sides; she threw her arm over his shoulder, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, her nails scraping his scalp softly.

His embrace was everything at once, both strong and gentle, tight and loose, too much and not enough. Claire leaned backwards a bit with Ethan following suit, the kiss deepening with each move of their lips, with every heavy breath, every single pant and groan that escaped them.

He aimed his assault towards her neck, his stubble tickling her skin more with every move he made. She giggled, combing through his strands, endorphins rushing through her bloodstream. Her ankles crossed behind his back, pushing him a bit closer to her. She pulled him back to her, biting his lower lip and pulling on it, a deep growl reverberating in his chest.

“So… should I leave you two here or…?” Naveen’s voice sliced through the mist in their minds, both of them looking to the side to see their friend, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest and a wide smile. Ethan cleared his throat, taking a step away from Claire, doing anything he could to avoid looking at either of them. “How about that, I’ll go back to the car and give you a few minutes to talk it through. We need to head back soon.”

Once they were alone again, the tingling in his hands appeared again, pushing him to touch her again, to hug her again. Watching her he noticed how she chewed on her lower lip nervously, already feeling yet another rejection from him coming. It stung him to know that he did it enough times for her to expect it.

Something changed. Maybe it was Naveen, much more at ease than either of them when he caught them tangled on top of the table. Maybe it was her, and him not being able to resist her. Or maybe it was simply that he’s kept himself away from her enough times for him to get tired and just give in. No matter what kind of a combination of all those reasons settled into his mind, it caused him to walk back over to her and press his lips to her forehead.

“Come on, we need to go. We have a lot to talk about.” He murmured, catching her hand with his and lacing their fingers together. Her eyes widened slightly, unsure what was happening. He laughed breathlessly, helping her stand up.

Naveen sat behind the steering wheel in his car, combing through his brain to find anything to say to Ethan that would break that stubbornness of his. To him it seemed fairly simple, and he knew for a fact that other people around the couple knew it too. The only blind people in this were Claire and Ethan themselves.

Something flickered in his peripheral vision, making him look up, just in time to see the two of them walking towards the vehicle. Ethan’s face was like an open book, something that didn’t happen often. All the nervousness, anxiety, relief and hope he felt, all right there, spelled out on his features.

Claire was a different story. It was as though they swapped their mind sets and demeanors, most likely due to the severe stress that they’ve both been under. If Ethan was easy to read, she was impossible to decode. Nothing was certain, nothing was clear, but he couldn’t really blame her. From what he gathered, Ethan has pushed her away enough times for her to develop a coping mechanism.

Despite the mixed emotions emanating from them, their hands were intertwined tightly. The touched lingered when he opened the door for her, the faintest of smiles on his lips when he looked at her. She observed him, still hesitant when it came to his sudden surge of delicate affection. It just wasn’t like him to behave like that and she couldn’t shake away the feeling that he would backpedal, and she would end up getting hurt all over again.

As soon as he sat down next to her, he grabbed her hand again, tracing her knuckles with his thumb. He observed her, desperation slipping into his eyes. He was the one that wronged her, he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to talk to him, if she wanted him to leave her alone.

It was as though she could hear the noise in his head, the frightening thoughts that covered everything else. Naveen always knew that she was the one thing that could calm Ethan down, but for the first time in so long, he saw her doing it. Something so simple that it almost seemed impossible to work, and yet it did.

She leaned towards him, slowly and carefully, as though she was defusing a bomb, then rested her head on his shoulder. Both her hands grasped his, her eyes locked on their fingers. Any tension that was in his or her body dissipated soon after they fell into the comfortable science, and Naveen knew that, while they still had a long way to go, they would be alright.

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #open heart fanfiction #fic #fanfiction #choices #playchoices #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #choices fanfiction

[narniachronicles]

So I've been reading Weta’s book on art, creatures and weapons in “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” and “Prince Caspian” movies and this is what I have learnt:

(I apologise in advance for how long this is, I ended up taking over two pages of notes to write this)

Narnia

The Battle of Beruna was meant to be on a larger scale (there is a gorgeous concept art with fire, arrows in the air, cloudy sky and Aslan with Lu and Su bringing the sun with him, which the book describes the sun as being the promise of hope). Jadis was meant to have ice creeping on the surrounding ground, and be summoning a storm overhead (so it would have been very cloudy) representing her power returning and then Aslan was meant to show bringing the sun with him. Also, mermaids and naiads were intended to come out of the water and fight in an aquatic sequence as well. Basically it was meant to be a multi-layered fight, with water, low ground, human level and sky. I’m guessing they cut this early in production to save money.

A number of creatures were designed but excluded including pegasi, naiads, nymphs, sprites (little woodland creatures), toadstool people and evil dryads.

Peter's gifts, in particular his shield, don’t just bear Aslan but also engravings based on the rising sun and the Tree of Protection, it also bears small PP at the bottom. His armour was deliberately made, so he stood out and looked like a Knight, much of the engraving on his armour was of oak leaves (something you will also spot on his crown) symbolising courage, strength and kingship. His helmet also bears oak leaves but in a pattern made to resemble Cair Paravel (interestingly an alternate design featured the leaves with the lamppost in the middle). Additionally, Peter’s armour along with Edmund’s was deliberately made look run down and worn for Prince Caspian to represent its use whilst Peter was High King and the years that have passed since then.

Susan's gifts are interesting, because the concept of her quiver and horn being one single piece of Ivory was Andrew Adamson’s idea, which Weta then worked with. Much of the design on the quiver, bow and arrows are based on ash leaves (the shape of the tips of the arrows are shaped like ash leaves) as ash was a common wood to be used in the creation of bows. Another strong feature was that of daffodils (again, you can see these featured on Susan’s crown) which are meant to symbolise the coming of spring, you can see these across her quiver, and even the mouthpiece end of her down is shaped like a daffodil. Her armour from Prince Caspian was not designed by Weta but the costume designers, but Weta did design some amazing armour for her which was clearly an inspiration for the end result. However, they did make her vanguard (her arm brace) which was based on concept art from LWW, and again features ash leaves and daffodils in the ivory inlay.

Edmund's weapons are fascinating, both his shield and sword are inspired by the lamp-post which was a hint at how Jadis brought the post to Narnia (also ironically Ed is Duke of the Lantern Waste, I don't know if Weta knew that when designing his weaponry). The dark magenta is also meant to define him as different (the others gifts are bright crimson) showing his weapons were not a gift. His armour is intended to reflect Peter’s to an extent, but instead features birch leaves (again which can be seen on his crown) which represent renewal and redemption, and on his helmet they are patterned like Cair Paravel. In Prince Caspian, they had to significantly alter his armour due to Skandar growing, they took the idea of Edmund being a ranger, so his armour would be light and gained the additions of leather components, so he could be light on his feet.

Lucy's gifts are designed to be more ceremonial than for battle. Lucy’s Dagger is basically a smaller version of Rhindon (which I think we all knew), but is also intended to be a nod at the close relationship between Lu and Peter. The Cordial is decorated with Yarrow leaves, which is a plant known for it’s healing qualities and the flowers and meant to represent the fire flowers which make up the healing elixir within (also it is engraved with LP, much like Susan’s Quiver has SP on it.

Some bonus information, the key to Tumnus’ cave was in fact sketched by Adamson himself and Weta based the end piece on that, it bears leaves and the Tumnus family crest. The Centaur’s armour is largely inspired by their study of celestial bodies, so much of their armour and weapons has inlays of the sun and moon (the stars were also intended to be featured, but they took they were dropped). Reepicheep’s sword is actually a real object, the smaller sword Weta had produced at that point, and it features a tiny mouse on the hilt.

The Witch

The Witch appears to have the most concept art of all the characters, but in the end her costumes were designed by the costume department. However, you can see they took some inspiration from Weta’s work as one of the designs show the Witch wearing fur like a mane, intended to mimic Aslan’s mane - something you can see in the film on Jadis’ armour, where she appears to be wearing Aslan’s literal mane. A lot of her designs are crystal like (making it look like ice), this includes her wand which is intended to look like a weapon (specifically a sword or javelin), the end of her knife, her vial, the Turkish Delight case and the goblet. The Stone Knife was originally intended to be a curved blade, but at Adamson’s request they made it straight so as it was not confused with Ginnarbrik’s curved knife (on a personal note, I’ve studied obsidian weapons and this a good design choice because curved obsidian blades just are not a thing, you could ret con it as being exclusive to Jadis because of her magic, but still the straight blade works better for obsidian and gives it the appearance of something that may have been made and then gifted to the Witch). Also, speaking of the goblet and case, the designs were made intentionally ornate with jewels in order to tempt Edmund’s naïveté and greed.

The Witch’s army in general is made up of a lot of original creatures, due to Lewis not giving specifics on the creatures. A lot of the symbology on their armour and weapons is that of snowflakes, however this was not the case for all the creatures. The Dwarves for example had designs with the integration of hammer and tongs, as intended to symbolise how they are natural blacksmiths. The Satyrs had horn motifs on their armour and weapons (this is also the case for the Narnian Satyrs/Fauns as the hilts of their swords had bore horns).

Telmarines

The Telmarine’s designs generally are based on their marine heritage (which is interesting given Lewis insinuates they fear the sea). The Colour palettes resemble this with blues and greens, and many of the designs feature sea monsters, fish scales and most importantly the compass, which is the star sign (in particular on banners and shields) we see throughout Prince Caspian. Their armour was also inspired by this design, and included the bearded faceplates as a means to make the Telmarines more threatening and impersonal.

The castle and village were massive undertaking, but the interesting part is the area surround it was actually meant to be this barren area full of chopped trees intended to represent the deforestation taking place. However, this was changed in favour of the grassy fields we see Caspian ride through at the beginning of the film.

Miraz's armour and weapons and very complicated and over the top. The cross guard on Miraz's sword alone as an intricate depiction of Telmarine history. His armour bears no less than six engravings of Miraz himself, with Telmarine backgrounds, this is meant to reflect how egotistic he is and be a stark comparison to Peter’s silver armour, as well as Caspian’s armour/sword which are basically regular Telmarine equipment slightly altered. Miraz’s shield takes the Maritime inspiration by bearing fish scales, the compass in the middle and the surrounding edge is a depiction of Telmarine history, specifically the Telmarines evicting the Narnian’s and “civilising” the realm.

Also, Prunaprismia’s bow, which features briefly in the film is shaped like that of a seagull and originally was intended to bear a nameplate with her name on it, but Adamson asked for it not to be included.

I hope you enjoyed reading about this, I know I did. If you want to know more on what the book says etc. send me an ask and I’ll endeavour to answer it.

#narnia #tcon #chronicles of narnia #topic: behind the scenes #type: txt #I just spent over an hour writing this so... #the book is a beast #i mean most of it is art but there is just so much to take in #i have probably missed some important stuff

[generallypo]

“I heard your voice, so I came... Aoba-san.”

Hooo-boy, if that doesn’t get me emotional every single time. Call it my bias for eccentric bundles of sunshine and softness, or my crippling weakness for the secretly-handsome-and-devastatingly-earnest type, but you can’t change my mind: Clear is, hands down, DMMD’s best love interest. Character development-wise, thematically, romantically, he nails every trial thrown at him, gets his man,  and proceeds to break your heart in the tenderest, sincerest way possible. I am hopping with Huge Fan Energy, so this post is gonna be unapologetically long and self-indulgent and grossly enthusiastic. Yeeeee.

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Look, DMMD meta analysis has been done to death, I get it. This game is old. But I think it stands as testament to its excellent production that it’s still a game worth revisiting years later — especially during these times when social contact is so hard pressed to come by and we all rabidly devour digital media like a horde of screeching feral gremlins. (Have you seen Netflix’s stock value now? The exploding MMO server populations? Astonishing.) It’s pure, simple human nature to want to connect, to cling to members of our network out of biological imperative and our psychological dependency on each other. As cold and primitive at that sounds, social contact also fulfills us on a higher level: the community is always stronger than the individual; genuine trust begets a mutually supportive relationship of exchange and evolution. People learn from each other, and grow into stronger, wiser, better versions of themselves.

Yeah, I’m being deliberately obtuse about this. Of course I’m talking about Clear. Clear, who is a robot. Clear, who is nearly childlike in his insatiable curiosity regarding the human condition.

And it’s a classic literary tactic, using non-human entities to question the intangible constructs of a concept like ‘humanity’ — think Frankenstein, or Tokyo Ghoul, or Detroit: Become Human, among so, so many works in various media — all tackling that question from countless angles, all with varying measures of success. What does it mean to be human? To be good? Who are we, and where do we stand in the grand scheme of things? Is there even a scheme to follow? … Wait, what?

Jokes aside, there are so many ways that the whole approaching-human-yet-not-quite-there schtick can be abused into edgy, joyless existential griping. Nothing wrong with that if it’s what you’re looking for, except that we’re talking about a boys’ love game here. But DMMD neatly, sweetly side steps that particular wrinkle, giving us a wonderfully grounded character to work with as a result. 

Character Design — a see-through secret

Let’s start small: Clear’s design and premise. Unlike so many other lost, clueless robo-lambs across media, Clear does have a small guiding presence early on in his life. It takes the form of his grandfather, who teaches Clear about the world while also sheltering him from his origins. It means he learns enough to blend sufficiently into society; it also means that Clear has even more questions that sprout from his limited understanding of the world.

Told that he must never remove his mask lest he expose his identity as a non-human, Clear’s perpetual fear of rejection for what he is drives much of his eccentricity and challenges him throughout much of his route. As for the player, the mystery of what lies underneath his mask is a carrot that the writers get to dangle until the peak moment of emotional payoff. Even if it’s not hard to guess that there’s probably a hottie of legendary proportions stuck under there, there’s still significance in waiting for that good moment to happen. And when it does, it feels great.

His upbringing contextualizes and affirms his odd choice of fashion: deliberately generic, bashfully covered from the public eye, and colored nearly in pure white - the quintessential signal of a blank slate, of innocence. Contrasted with the rest of DMMD’s flashy, colorful crew, Clear is probably the most difficult to read on a superficial scale, not falling into the fiery, bare-chest sex appeal of a womanizer, or the techno-nerd rebel aesthetic that Noiz somehow rocks. Goofy weirdo? Possibly a serial killer? Honestly, both seem plausible at the start.

And that’s the funny thing, because as damn hard as he tries to physically cover himself up from society, Clear is irrepressibly true to his name: transparent to a fault. He’s a walking, talking contradiction, and it’s not hard to realize that this mysterious, masked stranger… is really just an open book. By far the most effusive and straightforward of the entire cast, his actions are wildly unconventional and sometimes wholly inexplicable. But given time to explain himself, he is always, always sincere in his intentions — and unlike the rest of the love interests, naturally inclined to offer bits of himself to Aoba. It doesn’t take the entire character arc to figure out his big, bad secret — our main character gets an inkling about halfway through his route — and what’s even better is that he embraces it, understanding that his abilities also allow him to protect what he cherishes: Aoba. 

So what if he doesn’t fit into an easily recognizable box of daydream boyfriend material? He’s contradictory, and contradiction is interesting. Dons a gas mask, but isn’t an edgelord. Blandly dressed, but ridiculously charming. Unreadable and modestly intimidating — until he opens his mouth. Even without the benefit of traversing his route, there’s already so much good stuff to work with, and sure as hell, you’re kept guessing all the way to the end.

Character Development — from reckless devotion into complaisant subservience, complaisant subservience into mutual understanding. And then, of course: free will, and true love. 

At its core, DMMD is about a dude with magic mind-melding powers and his merry band of attractive men with — surprise! — crippling emotional baggage. Each route follows the same pattern, simply remixing the individual character interactions and the pace of the program: Aoba finds himself isolated with the love interest, faces various communication issues varying on the scale of frustrating to downright dangerous, wanders into a sketchy section of Platinum Jail, bonds with the love interest over shared duress, breaks into the Oval Tower, faces mental assault by the big bad — and finally, finally, destroys those internal demons plaguing the love interest, releasing the couple onto the path of a real heart-to-heart conversation. And then, you know, the lovey-dovey stuff. 

Here’s the thing: as far as romantic progression goes, it’s really not a bad structure. There’s room to bump heads, but also to bond. The Scrap scene is a thematically cohesive and clever way to squeeze in the full breadth of character backstory while simultaneously advancing the plot. In this part, Aoba must become the hero to each of his love interests and save them from themselves. Having become privy to each other’s deepest thoughts and reaching a mutual understanding of each other, their feelings afterwards slide much more naturally into romantic territory. They break free of Oval Tower, make their way home, and have hot, emotionally fulfilling sex or otherwise some variation on the last few steps. The end. 

That is, except for Clear. 

Clear’s route is refreshing in that he needs none of these things — the climax of his emotional arc actually comes a little after the halfway point of his route. When Clear’s true origins are revealed, he comes entirely clean to Aoba, fighting against his fear of rejection but also trusting that Aoba will listen. It’s a quiet, vulnerable moment, rather than the action-packed tension we normally experience during a Scrap scene. 

That doesn’t mean it’s prematurely written in — it simply means that he reaches his potential faster than the other characters. Because of that, he’s free to pursue the next level of his route’s development much, much sooner in the timeline: he overcomes his fears of his appearance, he confesses his love to Aoba, he leaves the confines of a largely dubious master-servant relationship and allows himself to be Aoba’s equal. Clear’s sprite art mirrors his emotional transformation all the way through, exposing him to the literal bone — and Aoba’s affection for him doesn’t change a single bit. Beautiful.

The whammy of incredible moments doesn’t just stop there, though. I don’t exactly recall the order the routes DMMD is ideally meant to be played in, but I believe Clear’s is meant to be last. And if you do, I can guarantee that it becomes a hugely delightful gameplay experience — in order to achieve his good ending, you must do absolutely nothing with Scrap. It doesn’t just subvert our player expectations of proactively clicking and interacting with our love interests; it grabs the story by its thematic reins and yanks it all back to the forefront of our scene. 

In every route besides Clear’s, Scrap is a tool used to insert Aoba’s influence into and interfere with his target’s mind. Using his powers of destruction, Aoba is able to prune whatever maligned thoughts are harming his target; in any conventional situation, using Scrap is the right choice. 

But one of the central problems in Clear’s route is his conflict between the impulses of his conditioning and his desire to live freely as a human would. Breaking free of Toue’s programming is what initially made him unique; growing beyond the rules imposed by his grandfather is what makes him human. In the final conflict scene, Clear’s decision to destroy his key-lock is an action of true autonomy, made with perfect understanding of the consequences and a sincere, selflessly selfish desire to protect someone he loves. In order to receive his good end, you have to respect his decision. It doesn’t matter which option you pick — by using Scrap, Aoba turns his back on every positive choice he made with Clear and attempts to exert his authority over him. This is Aoba becoming Toue; this is Aoba trying to reinstate himself as ‘Master’ right as he approved Clear as his equal. That’s blatant hypocrisy, and it doesn’t matter if Aoba is trying to do it for Clear’s ‘own good’ — that’s not Aoba’s call to make. If you truly wish to respect Clear’s free will, you will stand by. This is the truth of the moment: Clear has no emotional blockages that Aoba needs to fix. Believe in him, just as he believed in you.

The path to his heart is, and always has been, clear. Scrap was never needed from the start.

While Aoba might be the main character, Clear is undeniably a hero in his own route just as much. Tirelessly earnest and always curious, he leaps headlong into the unknown and emerges with his newfound enlightenment. He’s unafraid of weathering trials, even to the point of accepting death, and returns anew from oblivion to a sweet, cathartic ending. That’s about as textbook hero’s journey as it gets — if that doesn’t make him unquestionably, certifiably, unconditionally human, then I will scream.

And only finally… there is the free end. The final CG is like a throwback to our first impression of him: indistinct, purposefully obscured from proper view. But this time, we know better — and so does Aoba. Looks were never what mattered in Clear’s route. If you were patient, and you were open-minded, and you listened… well, what we realize now is that Clear was doing the exact same thing for you, too.

From a carefree, aimless robot-man with only the gimmick of “eccentric ditz” to carry him forward, we get a supremely more interesting character by the end: a man who has graduated from the well-intentioned but claustrophobic conditioning of his childhood; a weapon who has defied the imperatives placed on him by his creator’s programming; a wanderer who has, through unconditional patience and empathy, discovered love, and striven to become a better person for it. Who was it that ever doubted Clear’s character? He’s the goddamn goodest boy that ever wanted to be a real boy. Of course Clear is human. And in fact, he does it better than every single one of the actually human love interests. You can’t change my mind.

The Romance — kindness is really fucking attractive, okay.

Like I’ve said earlier, I have my Big Fan Blinds stuck on pretty tight. I might be conjuring sparks from thin air. But I think every choice was a deliberate creative decision on the writers’ part, and they deserve all the kudos for it — I’m just the lucky player who gets to enjoy it. But aside from Noiz (who I also think is a perfect darling as well — I could go on and on about him), Clear’s route is a model example for consent and healthy relationships in VN storytelling. This is reciprocated on both sides: never does Aoba infringe on Clear’s boundaries, and neither does Clear. They’re sensitive to each other’s needs and concerns; they ask for permission and stop when it isn’t granted (and when it is, boy do they get frisky — I’m not complaining!) I don’t need to say much more, because I think that consent is both fantastic and yes, incredibly hot (the scene in DMMD is tons more sad, go play Re:connect!). Good writing shows off the massive erotic potential enthusiastic consent puts into intimacy, and Aoba’s and Clear’s relationship is honestly a dream playground. The point is, I think Aoba and Clear genuinely do find equal balance in their relationship by the end of his route (and certainly through Re:connect). If you follow through Re:connect’s storyline, there’s even more thematic richness that comes through in the form of Clear’s greatest asset: communication. The couple get to discuss the long-term implications of them being together; they both offer concerns, points, and assurances to the other, and it’s just a soft, honest moment not so unlike the worries of a real relationship. Hearing is kind of Clear’s motif sense, but it’s really great to see that Aoba also subtly picks it up, really flexes his own communication skills to better engage with Clear. 

Point is, Clear’s route spoke to me on a lot of little levels. Design-wise, he’s already got a ton going for him, and his story builds upon it rather than against it, enriching his development and grounding him a little more solidly in the DMMD universe (and in my heart). His route, aside from being emotionally ruinous, carries a pretty solid chunk of world-building (only beaten out by Mink’s and Ren’s, probably), and the romance feels organic, healthy, and realistic. He’s not the only one with an excellent route, but he’s my favorite. If you read through all of this, you’re a real trooper and I’m extremely impressed. Thanks for tuning in. Peace.

#dramatical murder #dmmd #aoba seragaki #clear #dmmd clear #long ass emotional screeching #lOL I FORGOT TO DRAW IN THE UMBRELLA HANDLE ahA #fixed